
The Importance of Being a Fan
I was recently thanked by an opera singer via twitter for being so “enthusiastic”. My enthusiasm for opera is long and deep with roots in childhood and I spent much of my 20’s working as a stage manager, production coordinator, and/or cueing supertitles in Houston, Norfolk, San Antonio, Austin, and Los Angeles. But I’m not littering my twitter feed with opera enthusiasms just because I have enjoyed a particular performance. In our current cultural climate, those of us that

Why I Love Opera
Singing has always seemed to me the most perfect means of expression. It is so spontaneous. And after singing, I think the violin. Since I cannot sing, I paint. – Georgia O’Keefe Loving opera is something I inherited somewhat by accident from my father. He loved opera, though I’m pretty sure he only saw a few live performances during his lifetime. His love of opera was primarily based upon the Saturday broadcasts of the Metropolitan Opera in New York that he could hear o

Jesus and Spiritual Practice
An ounce of practice is worth more than tons of preaching. – Mahatma Gandhi Concert pianist Arthur Rubenstein was walking down the street in Manhattan when a tourist stopped him and asked, “do you know the way to Carnegie Hall?” And Rubenstein reportedly replied, “practice, practice, practice!” Do you know the way to develop a deeper relationship with the Divine? Same answer. Now Rubenstein was certainly thinking of the piano (or any other artistic pursuit), but what are t

Art and Blasphemy
“You can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.” – Anne Lamott I recently got to live-tweet the final dress rehearsal for San Francisco Opera’s new opera, the Gospel of Mary Magdalene by Mark Adamo. For the record, I like this new work in many ways and I am completely smitten by the performance of Sasha Cooke in the title role. I’m looking forward to seeing it again as part of our season tickets. But I

The Role of Your Life
Like most folks who work in the arts, I hate auditions. Spend a little bit of time with an actor, singer, or dancer and you’ll get a wagon-load of horror stories under the category “auditions”. It’s not much fun to be on the “other” side of the audition process either, sitting for hours watching terrified humans parade before you trying to show you their very best under lousy circumstances. The horror of it as a director/music director/producer is that you know almost inst

Singing Freedom
This past Sunday was in the midst of Memorial Day weekend and in between all the grilling, drinking, graduations, and festivities, I spent some time thinking about freedom. It is a regular part of the vocabulary when talking about sacrifices made by members of the American military to speak of the “fight for freedom”. And I am grateful for their service and faithfulness to our nation. Still, there are other ways to “fight” for freedom. In my sermon at Mira Vista United Chu

A Solidarity of Sound
On any given evening, the musicians of the San Francisco Symphony, like any first-tier orchestra, are capable of playing beautiful music. But there are times when the context of a concert affects the performance and turns a lovely evening of listening to good music into a cherished memory. Last Saturday evening at Temple Sherith Israel, the musicians of the San Francisco Symphony, after three weeks of being on strike, played in a way that I will never forget. As a gift to

The Hidden Cost of the SF Symphony Strike
On a personal note: I never intended to become an actual blogger who got comments from folks beyond my normal sphere of activity. I really appreciate all the wonderful discussion that continues to take place concerning my first “off -the-cuff” piece about the San Francisco Symphony strike. I am especially moved to hear from classical musicians around the world who are hopeful that their San Francisco colleagues can prevail in this situation. Still, my crackpot theory is t

From the Top
For the past few days, I have found myself increasingly depressed and angry over the general reaction to the strike by the musicians of the San Francisco Symphony. I have observed via social media and in person a variety of people refer to these top flight musicians as “whiners” because they make @$165,000 per year. Such comments are usually followed by, “I wish I made that much money.” Well, you might if you were at the TOP of your profession, although in virtually every

Thou little tiny child
When did “Christmas” arrive for you? Or did it? Was it last night during a candlelit “Silent Night” or when you first laid eyes on your grandchild this morning or . . . For me, “Christmas” arrived just after the evening service. After Silent Night, I walked outside into the parking lot to await any folks who wanted to stand with their candles and sing a few more carols. As a sort of “extend the joy” kind of thing. Well, it was cold and my coat was in the car. No gloves (