During one’s undergraduate studies, students often ask each other about their field of study. Once, after telling someone I was majoring in vocal music, they looked at me quizzically and replied, “that’s like getting a degree in croquet.” In my experience, classical music seems far from relevant to most contemporary Americans. Now, when I say I’m an opera singer, responses vary from “aren’t you supposed to be fat?” to the vague nod, insinuating I just told a rather far-fetched lie (“but if she was telling the truth, what would that really mean, anyway?”). For many people, when I say opera, the image drawn forth is one of horned-hatted divas singing in a foreign language, amidst lavish scenery, about asinine plot elements. The vision’s not only irrelevant, it’s boring.
That’s why my weekend’s project (http://
This weekend we spent hours examining and rehearsing Act 1, in preparation for a premiere of the full opera in February. So who will this effect? There’s no way of knowing. Schedules are so full these days, no performance is guaranteed to draw a giant crowd, especially a low budget new work with no grand marketing scheme. But one has to think: could this expression of art possibly influence the life of some veteran that happens into the audience? Is there any limit to how God can reach into our lives, open up the darkest places, and let his light shine in? Who knows where God is hiding, waiting to draw us deeper into his love—maybe even with opera (or croquet).
Contributed by Catherine Olson, NWYM recording clerk, Reedwood Friends with