By Sarah Kelsick
Singing in a musical community like Rochester, NY, you have an abundance of opportunity to learn and perform a variety of music. You always try to find a personal connection to each piece to keep it fresh and enjoyable for both you and your audience. For what seemed to me the first time, in the final Concentus rehearsal for our concerts at the beginning of January, Tundra, by Gjeilo, finally came together, with our lovely soloist Rebecca Kolstad, our pianist Linda Boianova, and our chorus of women singing full out. And the experience sparked a connection in me.
Growing up in Texas, I was ignorant to missing actual seasons. In the years since I’ve moved away, every passing season has brought a new wonder to be discovered. I have always loved snow. I love to play in it and have always found it pretty. My second winter in Chicago, I found a new appreciation. It was a week before Christmas. The city had a huge dump of snow that day, but on my commute home from my downtown temp job, the snow had stopped and the winds had stilled. In hopes of seeing the adorable houses in my neighborhood decorated with Christmas, I decided to walk the mile to my apartment from the El stop instead of taking the bus. I began to notice the quiet. The peace.
It was as if the bright, loud colors of the busy city were hushed by a blanket. No more honking. No more cursing. Silence. Still. Solitude.
Every new corner rounded brought a new tranquil beauty that I could only compare to a peaceful end I’ve not yet had. My fingers flew to my camera, trying to capture every breath. Every delicacy. I walked into my apartment with frozen fingers and a dead camera seeking the warmth of my new husband as I attempted to share an experience meant only for me.
Concentus Women's Chorus 