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Susan Hellauer Leads NYRG on February 27th

Susan Hellauer

Susan Hellauer, founding member of the vocal quartet Anonymous 4, is a native of the beautiful Bronx, New York and well-known to NYRG members and Early Music fans everywhere. While earning a B.A. in music as a trumpet player from Queens College (City University of New York), an increasing fascination with medieval and Renaissance vocal music led her to convert to singing, and to pursue advanced degrees in musicology from Queens College and Columbia University.

 

NYRG Meets at

Advent Lutheran Church

2504 Broadway (at 93rd Street)
Basement Fellowship Hall, side Entrance, corner of Broadway and 93rd Street

Doors open at 6:40 PM - Enter through the side door of the church. 
Downbeat at 6:55 PM.
 
Bring your pencil and a music stand. Music stands will not be provided.
Elevator available in Church if absolutely necessary

www.adventnyc.org   

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Joan Kimball Led NYRG on January 23, 2020

Joan Kimball 1-23-2020

The 2020 schedule is Larry Lipnik, March 26, Valerie Horst, April 30; Priscilla Herreid, May 28; End of Season Bash, June 18. All meeting dates are Thursday evenings. Mark you calendar now.

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Per-meeting fee: $12 for members. Non-member fee: $20
 Please make your check payable to “New York Recorder Guild”.
If mailing your check, send to:
New York Recorder Guild, 145 W. 93rd St., Apt. 2, New York, NY 10025

Not a member yet? Join Us for an exciting and fun year of music-making.
Visit our Membership Page for more information

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Spring Workshop Season is Here

Westchester Recorder Guild, Princeton Recorder Society, Hudson-Mohawk Chapter ARS, Bergen County Chapter ARS and Amherst Early Music have workshops scheduled this spring.

For more information on these upcoming workshops,
visit our Workshops page for dates and registration information.

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Visit our Events page for photos of City Recorder and recent playing sessions and events.

Special New York Music Concerts and Events

(additional events and concert series are listed on our Events page)

GemsGOTHAM EARLY MUSIC SCENE (GEMS) is dedicated to the promotion and advancement of early music in New York City and serves professional and amateur performers and ensembles, church organizations, audiences and enthusiasts. Get on their mailing list and receive On the Scene which features current New York performances of early music. Call: 212-866-0468 or E-mail info@gemsny.org.

Consort Finder

The board and music director are pleased that you are attending New York Recorder Guild sessions to play with and meet other recorder players.  It is certainly a great place for this! You may also wish to enjoy playing recorders in a consort or smaller group setting, but it is often difficult to get the right players together for levels, geography, and temperaments.  

If you are interested in being matched with other players, contact our music director, Deborah Booth, at: deborah@flute-recorder-deborahbooth.com explaining your thoughts, wishes, level, location, and years of experience.  Coaching is also available if desired. Deborah will attempt to put you in touch with others who match your skills. NYRG has had success with this program in starting consorts meeting in Brooklyn and Manhattan.  

 

Subscribe to the New York Recorder Guild Mailing List and get the latest news on NYRG happenings as well as keeping up to date on the Metro New York Recorder scene. Contact: newyorkrecorders@gmail.com

Visit our Events page for photos of recent playing meetings as well as listings of playing sessions of other local ARS Chapters, concerts and other early music and recorder events..

Visit our Archives Page to keep up with all of the music played at our Monthly Meetings. Music listings of workshops and other events will be added as they occur.

Our Workshops page has all the information on Recorder and Early Music Workshops taking place in the area.

Recorders need repairs; looking for music downloads? Visit our Resources page for information on everything recorder-related.

Recorder Myths?? A Regular Series of Articles by Judith Wink

Little Deaths 

At the end of The Caine Mutiny, World War II is over and Captain Keith is taking his warship home.  The narrator looks into the captain’s future:

The stars and the sea and the ship were slipping from his life.
In a couple of years he would no longer be able to tell time
to the quarter hour by the angle of the Big Dipper in the heavens.
He would forget the exact number of degrees of offset that held the
Caine on course in a cross sea.

All the patterns fixed in his muscles, like the ability to find the speed indicator buttons in utter blackness, would fade. 

It was a little death toward which he was steaming.

For once Shakespeare got it wrong.  It isn’t just cowards who die a thousand deaths.  We all do.  Some of these deaths are untroublesome.  Captain Keith, for instance, is is his mid-twenties and never planned to command the Caine forever.  He will get a Ph.D. in English and become a professor.  Young adults like him die many little deaths as they leave school, leave their first jobs and their first apartments and (sometimes) their first husbands or wives.  These changes don’t even feel like deaths.  They’re more like the experience of the butterfly bursting out of its cocoon or the chambered nautilus building a bigger house for its growing body. 

For older adults, it’s different.  One of our friends, a man in his late sixties, broke his wrist playing basketball with a bunch of eighteen-year-olds.  The wrist healed but his confidence didn’t; he's not sure whether he wants to get back on the court.  I know several people who have sold their houses or their apartments and moved into assisted living.  Their new homes have lots of amenities and all the conveniences, but everyone in this situation knows what his next home will be.  “God’s waiting room” is the usual nickname for these places.  One inmate described his as “a Carnival Cruise on the River Styx.” 

The late Hungarian mathematician Paul Erdos used to say, when a colleague or a friend died, that the person had “left.”  He said someone had died only when the person stopped doing mathematics.  Musicians die in the Erdos sense.  I don’t know whether Pablo Casals ever retired, but a lot of less fortunate players, professionals and amateurs, are forced to do it by arthritis, failing eyesight, physical or mental breakdowns, nerve damage, increasingly lousy reviews or a growing conviction that there’s got to be a better way to make a living.  Amateurs sell or donate their instruments.  They give away their music.  Going through these collections can break your heart.  The pages are worn because the piece has been played many times.  It’s also been studied.  The owner’s notes are all over it, notes on phrasing, on articulation, on emphasis and dynamics and the relationship of the words to the music.  You can see the hours of thought that went into playing this piece.  It was a labor of love, a labor that the owner will never again be able to undertake. 

With luck, there will be compensations.  Years ago, the Westsider ran a column by Bessie Doegenes (I think that’s the spelling,) a longtime resident of the West 80’s whose essays were full of dry humor and gentle wisdom.  She was in the 80’s in another sense, so she had a lot to say about being old.  One column described her race from Central Park back to her bathroom, a race she won by a whisker.  Another talked about losses and gains. 

One of her friends, a good amateur artist, became too crippled by arthritis to manage a brush.  He took up photography, using his trained eye to create beauty in a new medium.  Another, who loved concerts, lost her hearing.  She started going to the ballet.  A third lost her sense of smell.  Forever lost to her were the scent of roses, of clean laundry, of roast chicken.  But there were a few people at her senior center who were isolated and lonely because of their dreadful body odor. Bessie’s friend, no longer troubled by what others found unendurable, hugged these outcasts and lunched with them. Here’s Bessie’s punchline: “That smart cookie Ralph Waldo Emerson got it right: ‘When the half-gods go, the gods arrive." In time all our half-gods will go. 

When that happens, may there be gods waiting for us.


Judith's previous articles are archived on her special page. Click Here

 

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