I want to write about how thankful I am for all the blessings in my life this year; for my family; for my my work at Harvard Westlake and at Neighborhood Church Pasadena; for Tonality, Street Symphony, NANM; for LAMC and the LA Phil; for studio gigs and creative projects; for doctors and physical therapy; for psychologists, behavior specialists and teachers; for coaches and mentors and besties and colleagues, for sports and beer and video games and trampolines and an abundance of food and music…
But honestly, I’ve been going through some stuff. I’ll be okay, but I’ve been overwhelmed lately. I’ve been worried. I’ve been in pain. And sometimes it’s hard to be generous when we’re in pain or in need. We hoard our time, our money, our food, our space. Or sometimes we act carelessly and with ingratitude when we give and give and give at the expense of taking care of our own complex needs. We give away our time and money when we most need it to tend our own homes and souls. We fill up time instead of taking time. We fill up space instead of making space or holding space. Pain, grief, and need take us off balance. And I have been feeling this.
But I AM grateful. And I pray I am kind and loving despite my pain. I hope I remember to look beyond my own circumstance to see (and help meet) the needs of others. I hope I say “you’re welcome” as often as I say “thank you.” And I pray I have the courage, the strength, and the presence of mind to take folks up on their offers of generosity so I can hear the words “you’re welcome” and know the depth of their meaning.
We need balance. And it takes both courage and community to be both grateful and generous.
And it’s complicated, so let’s give ourselves a break. Happy Thanksgiving.
Ben Bollinger, aka “Mr. B”, died on October 17. He founded the Citrus Singers and was chair of the Citrus College Music Department for decades. He also created the Candlelight Pavilion Dinner Theatre in Claremont, and helped numerous aspiring musical theater singers to realize their dreams.
I was a Citrus Singer for one year, and one year only: 1997-98. I had graduated from LACHSA, not knowing what do to with myself. My college auditions hadn’t been very successful. I had been accepted to Berklee College of Music in Boston, but decided not to go, wary of the cost and afraid to leave home. I didn’t know if I should study jazz or classical music. I had dabbled at composition – maybe I was a singer-songwriter or a film composer. I certainly hadn’t given any thought to pursuing conducting or teaching. I was pretty lost. I figured I’d stay home for a year, take care of some GEs, get a part-time job, then transfer to a conservatory or 4-year school or something.
When I first went to Citrus College and met Mr. B, I wasn’t impressed by him, and he wasn’t impressed by me. I think we were both kinda arrogant. I didn’t really know anything about the Citrus Singers. And while others might have been impressed, he didn’t really care that I came from LACHSA. There were tons of other students auditioning for Citrus Singers who were extremely excited — and extremely competitive. Mr. B said that first-years rarely make it into the top group.
Then I nailed the audition. I think I was 1 of 2 first-years to make it that year. I believe Mr. B was satisfied with me. And my eyes were opened to musical worlds I hadn’t even imagined. From then on, he was always kind to me. I looked up to him.
Manny Mota
At the beginning of the school year, Mr. B arranged for me to receive a scholarship from the Manny Mota Foundation so I could go on tour to Europe for free with the Citrus Singers. I had no idea who Manny Mota was. I couldn’t even believe traveling to Europe to sing was actually a possibility for me! I don’t know what kind of strings he had to pull; I don’t recall having to compete or fill out any paperwork. All I know is that Mr. B made it so that I never ever had to worry about money so long as I showed up and sang at every rehearsal and every performance.
Shoes just like these!
I bought my first tan T-strap character shoes, and had them rubbered and braced. I took my first dance classes: 2 hours, twice per week. I was extremely uncoordinated, and I don’t think I ever mastered a single dance combination. (God bless John Vaughanfor trying to teach me). For about 12 weeks, I had choir rehearsal with either Mr. B or Michael Skidgel every single day for 2-4 hours Monday through Thursday, and for 6-8 hours over Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I learned my first works by Lauridsen, Vaughan Williams, Victoria, Kodály, Byrd, Dello Joio, Bruckner, Verdi, Gabrielli, Elgar, Rachmaninov…
We memorized EVERYTHING. And on top of the standard choral rep, we had to learn 2 hours worth of music for our “pop casuals.” I learned how to wrap microphone cords. I had my first ever costume fittings and learned how to wear fake eye lashes and makeup. I performed in dance tights and short dresses made of silver and blue sequins. I had a tin container to hold the costume pearls and corsage that went with the taylored red satin ball gown and matching red velvet jacket I wore for a seemingly endless number of off-campus Christmas casuals and endless on-campus performances of “Christmas Is” at the Haugh. I learned how to play handbells… and LOVED IT! I went to my first Country Club, and I think we sang at almost every country club in Southern California. These ultra-formal affairs helped pay for the group’s trip to Europe. And I gave starting pitches for every a cappella song we sang, in every performance. Yes, I was the “pitch bitch”. All of this was grueling, but it made me a stronger person. Now that I think about it, the pace was very similar to that which I endured as a doctoral student at USC. Now, it’s fascinating to recall that Mr. B was a college football player and that he also studied choral music with the great Charles Hirt at USC.
Back then I didn’t know anything about USC football or choral music or anything! I didn’t really know what it meant to be part of a legacy. And I didn’t really know what hard work was until I became a Citrus Singer. I always thought it was weird how Mr. B would reference Joe Paterno and Penn State football when talking about choral music – he loved him some Joe Paterno! Maybe that’s why today I see so many parallels between football and choir – I love me some football! I think we were Mr. B’s football team, and he was an elite coach. But he was old school. Honestly, he wasn’t nice with us. He was aggressive, passionate, and an expert in his field. Practice was grueling but effective and even beautiful. Mr. B’s voice was incredible: a rich bass-baritone, if I remember correctly. He often used the word “facilitate” when explaining how to achieve a sound he needed from us, and to this day, I love that word. Making music with Mr. B was a humbling experience. He had such reverence for the composers whose music he tried to teach us. He absolutely loved this music, and he truly shared that love with all of his students.
I am thankful that he came into my life, pushing me to be more and do more than I thought I could be or do. And I am so grateful for the priceless experiences he gave me in my early years as a choral musician.
The first 4-6 weeks of the school/church year are notoriously stressful for our family, as I’m sure it is for most families. But it seems like the start to this year has been exceedingly stressful. Not gonna lie: it’s been really tough. And the sudden passing of my beloved composition teacher Dr. Carolyn Bremer from CSULB weighs on me still.
It’s complicated. Seems like everything is more complicated. Don’t get me wrong. Like I said last month, new settings have added an element of hope to things. Working at Neighborhood Church is a dream come true. My kids are moving forward in their new school settings. My husband survived his work as a singer for the Jewish High Holy Day services (my fellow singers and Jewish friends all know what that’s like!). I have much for which to be thankful. I know there are many in our city whose daily struggles are far worse than mine; whose basic needs for food, shelter, and clothing are not met.
So as we head into October, I’ll be reminding myself of some important truths. For me, these truths include:
1. I can’t take care of anyone if I’m not taking care of myself (everday needs: practice, pray, drink water, do a chore, read, exercise).
2. Being kind is key.
3. Cutting corners is unacceptable.
4. Grief can be a long process (I grieve for my country, my lost loved ones, my lost relationships, my failures).
We had a great summer of stay-cationing with lots of videogaming and trampolining at home. We also went to the mall and visited Grandparents in Manhattan Beach.
My daughter Felicity turned 12 this month! She is my happy hope! I’m proud of Felicity for being accepted into the California School of Arts – San Gabriel Valley to study musical theater. Both she and her younger sister started at new schools last week.
I start back teaching at Harvard Westlake next week. Plus, this Sunday is my last Sunday as music director at Unitarian Universalist Church of Santa Monica. My first Sunday at Neighborhood Unitarian Universalist Church Pasadena is September 9.
The first 4-6 weeks of the school/church year are notoriously stressful for our family, as I’m sure it is for most families. This year is no exception, but new settings add an element of hope to things.
After several weeks of vacation mode, I feel rejuvenated. I’ve taken time this summer to sleep in, watch TV, take long walks with Vincent, compose music, ride waterslides with my girls, and sometimes just do absolutely nothing. And no matter what happens during the day, I can always come home and bounce my little trampoline until I feel better. Also, I bought an ocarina! I’m feeling inspired lately. Suddenly, I’m feeling the urge to go back to work. My school year begins in late August, but it’s time to start preparing now.
