La Kid’s a soprano (she’s an alto in her other choruses; the director of the Society thinks she’s a soprano) with the Washington National Cathedral’s Cathedral Choral Society, and yesterday afternoon Les UDs attended their performance of Mozart’s Vesperae Solennes de  Confessore (It features the insanely beautiful and — for UD, anyway — unsingable Laudate Dominum.]  [Oh yeah?  Why unsingable, UD?]  [Well, take a look at the fucker.  You have to stay slow and sustained even as you're jumping octaves like mad, plus doing what are them things called melismas a mile a minute... And please note #37!  That ma - - - - net starts on a low E flat... which is, again, insanely beautiful... But for the singer... this singer... it's difficult.  Sarah Vaughan might do it justice...).

We got tickets at the last minute, and had to sit some distance from one another, with UD in what she called the Time Out Chair -- a single chair in a tight little corner at the very top of the balcony that seemed to say Sit here, away from the group, and think on your sins. 

Actually, she loved being there.  The view down was glorious, and every time the chorus concluded a phrase, the resonance flew heart-stoppingly all the way up to her. 

The other piece on the program was the world premiere of Dominick Argento's Evensong in memory of his wife.  Although certain elements seemed kitschy to UD - mainly staging ideas, like starting out in darkness, then having people light candles, then bringing all the lights up for the final Anthem   - UD cried at the end:  two neatly symmetical tears, one out of each eye.  She thinks it's because of some of the words Argento wrote:

[P]ray that an angel will stir up our hearts, will trouble our souls and move us to comfort the afflicted… [T]he gift of love comes at the cost of everything we are, and all that we will ever be.  Giving it is the greatest blessing within our power.

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UPDATE: Well. UD wasn’t the only one crying:

…This blessing on “those who work, or watch or weep” and those slipping past the bonds of life is the profound heart of Evensong, and it was exquisitely, disarmingly sung by Nelson James LePard Reed. Time seemed to stop in the cavernous space, where the light was fading in the intricate stained glass windows, as if on cue. The purity of the boy’s tone and the clarity of his diction (lovely rolled r’s included) communicated deeply.

Elizabeth Futral, the stellar soprano soloist who could be seen wiping away tears as she listened to the boy’s song, rose to considerable heights herself. ..

baltimore sun