Category: Uncategorized

Treasured fall traditions

Starting with Halloween (October 31)

I didn’t care much for Halloween when I was young. The candy was mostly disappointing. Halloween costumes and colors seemed trashy to me. I had no idea what was supposed to be fun or special or “holy” about a holiday that seemed to celebrate fear and deception.

But now, I understand Halloween as a celebration of the triumph of love over fear and life over death. I love the month of October because Halloween, All Saints’ Day, and Día de los Muertos have all developed a special place in my heart over the years.

The first time I fell in love with Halloween was at my friend Mandy’s house during my undergraduate days at CSU Long Beach. Mandy invited me to my first Halloween party and helped me carve my first pumpkin. Tons of friends were crammed in that small Long Beach apartment where we drank beer, watched and laughed at classic horror movies, and turned pumpkins into art.


All Saints’ Day  (November 1)

I love being an Episcopalian. And though I haven’t gone to my home church in a long time (which is quite common for musicians), All Saints’ Sunday at All Saints Church in Pasadena (pictured) will always hold a special place in my heart. The Sunday after Halloween is one of two Sundays when incense is used during the service — the other is Pentecost, which happens in the summer. At my first All Saints’ Sunday service in 2002, I sang my very first Duruflé Requiem under the direction of my mentor, James Walker. There are no words to describe the overwhelmingly exquisite beauty and power of singing the Duruflé’s work with orchestra in the context of an All Saints’ Sunday service. I had never experienced such solemnity, reverence, and beauty, all at once. I could feel the presence of all the saints, our ancestors compassed around us in that space with all those worshippers, the holy smells, the beautiful garments, the hymns and the sublime music. I’ve never been the same since.


Our ofrenda, honoring and remembering family

Día de los Muertos  (November 2)

I married into a family of Mexican heritage. The Robles family history is rich and beautiful, a lot like my own Stewart family history.  That’s one of the many reasons I fell in love with and married a Robles man. Grandpa Mark Robles was a professional guitarist and singer who worked at La Golondrina on Olvera Street, and had several film appearances. Grandpa and his wife, Emily, were devout Catholics and parents of nine children, including my father-in-law, Christopher Edward Robles.

To my knowledge, the Robles family didn’t really celebrate Día de los Muertos. But when the movie Coco came out a few years ago, it resonated deeply with me because of my own family connection to a great musician of Mexican heritage. So although the Day of the Dead isn’t a holiday I grew up with, creating an ofrenda each year enables me to honor the legacy of Grandpa Robles and remember all the loved ones who have passed from this life to the next. Seeing their pictures on the ofrenda during the month of October connects me to my past and reminds me of the love and strength these people continue to give me, even though they’ve passed on.


Composition

My compositions “Can You See” and  “Veni Sancte Spirius” have grown in popularity over the past few months, with planned performances by several choirs across the country. Click the button below to check out my colleague Dr. Marques Garrett teaching it to his students at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.


Conducting

I’m back in the saddle!
It’s been fun getting to conduct again, mostly for virtual choir projects where I have to “audiate” the choir (hear them in my head), because they aren’t actually singing with me synchronously.

But I was elated for the opportunity to conduct 3 songs with the group Tonality for the “Tune In Festival” produced by CAP UCLA. Check us out on Friday, October 30 at 9pm. I’m conducting my composition “Can You See,” along with “Sing About it” by Moira Smiley and “America the Beautiful” by Shawn Kirchner, with Shawn himself on piano.


Singing

I sing ALL THE TIME! on virtual choir videos, guide tracks, practice recordings, over Zoom calls, all over my house!… There’s so much singing to do, despite the fact we can’t do it together in person.


For Fun

Honestly, things have been really tough lately. COVID-19, the ongoing images of brutality against Black lives, and the upcoming election have caused my general anxiety to skyrocket.

And yet… the blessings continue. Gratitude returns. Hope is kindled again and again. So what’s giving me life right now?

  • Watching the World Series.
  • Listening to Billy Child’s new album, “Acceptance”.
  • Playing “Bioshock” on Xbox 1.
  • Chopping vegetables.
  • Bouncing on my trampoline.
  • Working on home improvement and seasonal decorating.
  • Completing French lessons every day on Duolingo.
  • Singing and editing virtual choir videos.
  • Playing “Just Dance” on Nintendo Switch with my daughters.
  • Watching Star Trek: Deep Space 9 on Netflix with my husband.
  • Connecting with friends and family on Facebook and Instagram.

View the original newsletter online

Just three

Balance.
Resonate.
Flow.

These three concepts have become a foundation for my philosophy of singing, conducting, and just being. I love how my music-making is an experience that vacillates between spirituality, intellectualism, and athleticism.

When I also remember that balance, resonance, and flow are all equally integral to my life and work, I find peace more easily accessible.


Composition

I’m working on finishing my set of Kwanzaa Songs in time for this year’s holiday season. UmojaKujichagulia, and Kuumba are done. Now to finish Ujima, Ujamaa, Nia, and Imani. It doesn’t come easy, but I’m getting there. You can read a little about Kwanzaa here

A list of my finished works can be found on my website:  ZanaidaRobles.com

Here’s the order form to purchase perusals and official scores.


Conducting

The Duruflé “Sanctus” project went quite well! I’m proud of what our Neighborhood Chorus accomplished for our Homecoming service on September 13.

Next up:  for the Harvard-Westlake Upper School choirs, I have to video record myself conducting music of Dunphy, Brahms, Naplan, and Robles (me)!

Maurice Duruflé (1902-1986) at the organ. (No, he wasn’t able to join us on the 13th!)

Singing

I’ve been rebuilding my vocal stamina since the summer hiatus ended. Teaching and rehearsing choir via Zoom means I do much more singing than conducting. It’s been fun getting re-acquainted with my larynx and remembering how to breathe!


For Fun

In honor of Halloween and to remind me not to take myself too seriously, I bought a giant plushy spider from the grocery store. It has adorable red eyes, and it’s hair can be styled in several different ways. At first my family made fun of it. But every now and then, I find it in a different room, placed in such a way as to make me laugh or scare me. It might be right outside my bedroom door, there to greet me when I wake up. It might be at the bottom of the stairs or waiting for me in a dark bathroom, there for me to find when I turn on the light. I can’t tell you the joy this $5 spider has brought into my life.

View the original newsletter online

Posts from recent travels

It’s been a big month! This is a quick feature, just to keep you posted about what’s been happening.  Stay tuned, however, as we’ll have more soon.  Be sure to check out the calendar for upcoming events!





The Best Christmas Tree

Christmas trees at the mall or in other public spaces are often massive.  I’m not gonna Google it, but I’m certain they come out of a warehouse, pre-decorated with giant, tastefully color-schemed ornaments distributed all over them with factory precision. These trees look depressing.  Does anybody care about them?  Is anybody’s heart in them? I admit, I’m ignorant of the stories that might live in these mall trees.  But what can be symbolized by these massive plastic mall trees that look decent from afar, but are oh so hollow and lifeless up close?

Then, there’s my Christmas tree at home.  Every year on the day after Thanksgiving, we put up the tree and decorate our house for Advent, Christmas, and (more recently) Kwanzaa. I wouldn’t say that it’s always “fun”. It takes hours and involves a lot of annoying things like moving furniture, hauling boxes out of the dirty garage, fixing lights that don’t work, replacing melted candles, vacuuming and dusting, trying to get my not-so-young daughters to get off their asses and help!  But it is VITAL that this ritual takes place.  The result is a Christmas tree that, to me, looks great both from afar AND up close. 

It truly takes hope, peace, love, and joy to decorate for the holidays! By painstakingly decorating, we literally infuse our tree and our home with all of the hope, peace, joy and love that we desperately need during the holiday season. We have put our hearts and souls into this ritual for as long as I can remember: it’s part of our heritage. The tree, the nativity scene, the Christmas village (which didn’t get assembled this year), the Advent wreath, the kinara, the outdoor decor, and almost every single ornament has a story. Even the management of these objects becomes part of the process, as things sometimes get broken or lose their meaning. Getting rid of these things is hard, but necessary.  It takes care and discernment to figure out what to keep, what to discard, and what to replace from year to year.

Like the mall trees, I wonder what aspects of our world and of our lives might be symbolized by our own ritual around the Christmas tree and other decor in our homes. This annual practice brings together so many aspects of what make our family and our lives unique. We need this ritual in our homes because it is our culture, even our legacy, embodying all of the things that make this season special.

An Experience at the Stanley King Counseling Institute (in Pictures)

When you arrive for the Stanley King Counseling Institute at the Brooks School in North Andover, MA in June, you have no idea where you’re going. There’s no signage and no one to greet you or direct you. It’s raining, and the campus is so vast that when you finally do find the library, you’re soaked.

Exploring

The next day, the sun comes out and you see so much natural beauty and such vastness of natural space that you gasp audibly. As the days go by, you take every chance you get to go for a walk. Maybe the goal is just to see if there’s any way to identify the boundary between where the campus ends and where something else begins. You never find the boundary.

⬅ One particular day, you find a pond with ducks in it. You experiment with the panorama setting on your phone camera. 

One night, the moon is so full, and the sky is as deeply blue as it ever has been, and the clouds are alive and glowing. It’s not possible to capture the splendor of this night in pictures.

Chapel

One day, you find the campus chapel. It’s an Episcopal chapel, it’s early morning, and no one is there. So you go on a self-guided tour and have your own fabulously customized private church service in the sanctuary, complete with singing, dancing, prayer, and a postlude.

And you have the best time, and you feel fully alive and grateful for every single blessing. You find some woods, so you pray and give thanks there, too.

Portsmouth

After some particularly lovely and brutally exhausting sessions at the institute, you go on an excursion to Portsmouth with your new friends and colleagues.

There, you drink the local IPA and buy lobster pants which you promptly put on when you get back to your room.

Boston

There’s a talent show, some tearful goodbyes, and promises to keep in touch. Then once you’re shuttled away from the campus, you wisely arrange to spend an extra night in Boston so you can catch your breath before the long flight home. 

And you have absolutely no regrets. Never having been there before, you decide you adore this city, but you can’t bring yourself to spend $22.00 on a hot buttered lobster roll.

So it’s off to the bar at Ned Devine’s for a couple of spicy pineapple margaritas and a steak and cheese sandwich that doesn’t disappoint.

Three lessons learned about deep listening

  1. We can’t listen deeply if we don’t check our own agenda at the door.
     
  2. There is SO MUCH never-ending work to be done, in order to listen and understand who we are and how much we need each other. And this work is the hardest, most vulnerable work we can possibly do.
     
  3. When we get it right, the world and all its people become so precious. Our faith, hope, and love deepen. And our gratitude is overwhelming.