training days

This week has been busy, to say the least. I spent the last three days training with the Park Street Church Freedom Trail tour guide team to prepare to meet the tourists today. Training was actually rather haphazard--our team leader spent the school year in France and is slowly adapting back to speaking English all the time and remembering how the trail worked last year.

Part of the training involved meeting with members of the ministerial staff to discuss how we should answer theological questions and what the church's official stance is on some sensitive issues. It's great to know that the ministers are so supportive of us, and they were constantly reminding us that not only is this a service job, it is community outreach and an opportunity for evangelism, with the right circumstances. I'm still rather nervous to begin, but I think I can handle it.

Also as part of our training, the team walked the Freedom Trail together. Well, most of it. We got the official, costumed guided tour from the visitor's center to Faniuel Hall, and then went on our own to Old North Church (we skipped the sites across the river because we were tired and hungry). The guide was entertaining, but we got to hear firsthand how little they actually say about the history of Park Street Church and the inaccuracies in the speech. It will be good to explain to visitors what it means to be a Congregational church and that the sails of Old Ironsides were not sewn in the church, but in the building previously on the spot, as well as just giving a more full picture of the broad history of the church and the many organizations it began.

The best part of the tour we took was visiting Old North Church. Our team leader was asking questions of one of the guides there, and when she told him who we were, he told us that our status as guides meant we got to have a "special tour." He immediately grabbed a key on a huge ring and led us to through a door in the entryway and up several flights of stairs. Our destination: the steeple. The first level up was a storage room, but then we entered a more attic-esque area of old wooden steps and dust. In all, we went up at least six full sets of twisty, wooden stairs, and numerous short turnings to move upward through the ever-narrowing space. Crys is afraid of heights, so she didn't make it all the way up, but the view from the top was amazing. I can see why this steeple was chosen to give the lantern signal over the river--you can see for miles, and in the days before skyscrapers, it would have been seen for miles as well. We didn't get to stay long, but I made sure to look down on the roof of David and Josiah's apartment below. If only I had brought my camera... (the plan had been to walk the trail on Thurs, but after looking at the weather Esther decided on Wed morning that we should do it that day instead) Old North was also a good stop just to hear how other sites do their tours. Their script is very short, so that gave us a sense of relief about how much we would have to memorize. And really, most of the time we will be answering questions rather than doing scripted tours, which should give us opportunity to remember all the different aspects of the history that might be forgotten in a single recitation.

I also got to poke around in the archive to set up the displays in the welcome center and sanctuary. The archive is rather small, since most of the materials are actually housed at the Congregational Library, around the corner. The archive is located in the basement of 3 Park Street, which used to be a commercial building. The basement has two bank vaults, one of which has been converted into the archive. I can't even describe how exciting it is to see a bank vault door on an archive. It's not locked (the door to the basement is instead), but that's beside the point.

This afternoon, after my shift at the library, I'll be headed back to church for the umpteenth time this week to finally start meeting the tourists. I'm still nervous, but also excited. I think this is going to be a good summer job for me.

-Kim

Beauty of the Ordinary

On my last full day in South Dakota, I woke up in Sioux Falls. On Tuesday I drove down to hang out with a few friends, had a good time, and ended up sleeping at Audrey's place rather than drive back to Brookings in the the middle of the night. Audrey and her family had to get up early and go to work, but she assured me that I could sleep as long as I wanted, so when I got up the house was empty and silent. (Well, not quite, since Adam was still asleep on the basement floor and Audrey's dad was in the shop in the garage, but the point here is the mood.)

I was ready to head out before 9:00am (to get back to Brookings for a shower and a lunch date with Katie), which in the city would be rush hour, but in the country is still a peaceful time.

When I stepped out the front door onto the front porch of the house, I was blindsided by the beauty of a misty country morning. The sky was solid cloud, so the light coming through felt more like early morning than mid-morning. There were no car sounds from the nearby roads, and the house is too far out of town for any of the Sioux Falls background bustle to reach the ears. Instead, all I could hear was the wind in the trees, the leaves dancing, the long grass swaying, morning birds chirping quietly. Such stillness that a small breeze could compose such a symphony.

My breath caught in my throat at the beauty of the moment and my feet froze on the porch, unable to move forward. It was an effort even to walk to the car, though I went slowly. My first instinct, which I had to ignore, was to make tea or cocoa and sit on the porch just to absorb the sound, smell and sight of the South Dakota countryside and store it up for the long months of city life ahead.

A moment like this is impossible in a city, even one so green and open as Boston. The noise never stops. And the sky is so much smaller.

The prairie may not seem as majestic as the mountains or the ocean or as picturesque as sheer cliff faces or giant glaciers to those who have never called it home, but it has a beauty I could never fully describe, and which my mother begins to capture in her amazing work. It is an unassuming beauty that seeps into the soul gradually and takes you over before you realize the scent of dirt has become a perfume. Am I biased because these open skies and seas of grass and grain have always been my home? Perhaps. But I will continue to proclaim their beauty.

As wonderful as my time in Boston has been, and no matter where I end up going from here, I think my heart will always belong to the ordinary beauty of the prairie.

-Kim

Grandma Elsie

Today we drive to Minot, ND to join the rest of the extended family in celebrating grandma Elsie's 90th birthday last month. As part of a group gift to her, we all made pages for a memory book. The photo below is one of the ones I included, and what follows is the text I added to the page.


Grandma,

You’ve always covered me with love. First it was a quilt with nursery characters to delight a young child. Then, when I graduated from high school, you made me a quilt sewn out of memories to take with me as I left home. Now you send me notes and scraps of news from the fabric of your life so I can have something in my mailbox and feel like I’m not so far from home after all. Thank you for your love and all the reminders of it.

Love,

Kim

John Williams

On Tuesday night I attended what was probably one of the best concerts of my life: Boston Pops in Symphony hall playing the music of John Williams, conducted by the man himself. I've been geeking out about it ever since a friend bought the tickets weeks ago. It was kind of expensive, even to sit in the upper balcony, but well worth the price. And the seats were actually very good. Last time I attended a concert in this hall, I was on the ground floor, off to the side and wasn't impressed by the acoustics. This time, though we were well above the stage, we were in the very center of the balcony, which gave us an incredible view, and provided a much more pleasant acoustic experience. While the last time I was there the music almost sounded far away, this time it flowed around us. I'm a fan of the balcony. Here's what our view was like:


(The lighting was colorful throughout the concert, and it changed for each piece to set the mood. The projection screen was only down before the concert and during intermission to advertise other Pops events this summer.)

I went to the concert with Adam, Vita and Kristen. Rather than risk being late, we walked to the hall early and made it to our seats a full half hour before the concert began. I passed the time reading the concert notes and taking random pictures of the hall and the musicians beginning to gather on the stage. As the time neared, an usher rather loudly reminded our section that photography was not allowed during the concert. But as she then disappeared, I took a chance and snapped a photo as John Williams began conducting the first piece. It's a bit crooked, but I love that my zoom could get this close of a picture at all. There he is, John Williams in all his conducting glory:


After snagging my one photo, I settled back to enjoy the performance. The opening piece was "Hooray for Hollywood," something I didn't recognize, but it set a good tone for the movie-themed concert. The second piece was March from The Adventures of Robin Hood (not a Williams piece, but good nonetheless), for which the lighting turned green to invoke Sherwood Forrest.

Next was Williams' own Suite from Jane Eyre. (I keep running into Jane. First, a facebook quiz told me that out of all the Classic female heroines I am Jane Eyre, then, at a friend's suggestion I began reading the Thursday Next series, the first of which is all about the novel, and now this. I think I'll have to reread that one this summer.) The music was touching, but I was astounded by and embarrassed for the audience when they began to applaud between movements. I got used to that happening at home occasionally, but I would have thought that Boston concert audiences would have been better trained. More embarrassing, however, was the fact that instead of catching on and not clapping after the second movement, more people joined in. I realize that the Pops concerts are supposed to be more informal--they have tables and serve food on the orchestra level, even--but it's a sign of courtesy and respect for the performers to not interrupt the piece and hold our wild applause until the end. Mr. Williams seemed to handle it well, but I still can't believe it happened.

Following was Flight to Neverland, from Hook. The playful piece restored my good mood, momentarily broken by the uncouth audience. Throughout this piece, and others, I found myself torn between watching the violins and watching the conductor. I always pay special attention to the violin section, watching their bows fly and their fingers dance up and down the neck of the violin at blinding speed and with breathtaking accuracy, feeling a connection with the masters of the instrument I love and merely play at in comparison. But Williams was the star of the night. he went through the full range of conducting movements, from tiny flicks of the baton to great surges in sound indicated by raising both arms to their fullest extent. But he never bothered with just keeping the beat. Instead, he focused on the swells, the changes, the cues, the abrupt stops and tempo changes, the flowing cantabile sections that defy strict rhythm. I wonder how it would feel to be under his direction. If I ever managed to get over my admiration and fear, would I feel the spark of connection the seemed to have with the orchestra? I get goosebumps just thinking about it!

After the first intermission (yes, there were two), we were treated to the world premier of Williams' new Concerto for Viola and Orchestra. He told us he had written it specifically for the principal viola of the Boston Pops, Cathy Basrak. Williams took time before the piece to describe to us how he had arranged it, explaining the melodic style of the first movement and telling us to pay attention to the cadenza that would show the range and skill of the violist. The second movement was quick and lively, and featured an unusual duet between viola and timpani, written because the violist is married to the timpanist. Williams' jokingly called it the family argument. The last movement is contemplative, almost restorative, and features a duet between viola and harp. The soloist was incredible, and the piece moving. Any world premiere is a treasure, this one especially so because of whose it was. (Too bad David couldn't be there--he has rented himself a viola and is learning to play it and would have especially enjoyed the quality of the soloist) The only downside to this premiere was the audience. Even though Williams took the time to explain the movements and features of each, the crowd still applauded between them. I was embarrassed for them--the applause was so enthusiastic, they clearly didn't even know better and thought they were encouraging the orchestra. What has the world come to, that even in one of the cultural centers of America audiences could be so ignorant?

After wild applause and several bows, they launched into The Adventures of Mutt, from Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. The quality of the story may have worsened in the fourth movie, but the music was as good as ever. After that we had another intermission. During the break some of the brass stayed on stage, and I found myself wondering why they were playing pep band music. Then I had a "duh!" moment as I realized that the first piece after the break was going to be the Superman March, which my high school had used frequently for pep band when our team ran out onto the field/court. When they played the piece, the lighting changed to a very patriotic red, white and blue.

Next was Selections from Far and Away. I've never seen that movie, but based on the Irish style and quality of the music, I now think I would like to. One movement was very quick and the cellos got to play a tricky, fast pattern, something low strings rarely get to do.

Finally it was time to the Raiders March. As Mr. Williams turned to address the audience, a large projection screen came down above the orchestra. While they played the classic theme, scenes from the first three movies were shown on the screen, eliciting "ooh!"s and laughs and cheers from the audience. Before they played, Mr. Williams commented on Harrison Ford's athleticism, informing us that he did 80% of his own stunts in the first films and still did 60% of them in the most recent one. After the piece he joked that it "begs the question of the fifth Indiana Jones film." Hearing this theme, one of my favorites, accompanies by images of the films was definitely the highlight of the night thus far.

The last piece in the program was Excerpts from Lawrence of Arabia, which Williams contends is the greatest film of all time because of the impressive filming with the tools of the time. They showed clips of this one as well, which meant less to me, having never seen the movie. (It's on my list of films to see before I die, but I probably won't get to it for a while.) It was an incredible finish, and it elicited the expected standing ovation.

Luckily, it was not the end. After returning to the stage for a second bow, Mr. Williams told us they would play another piece "for an 800-year-old: Yoda." Inaccuracy of the statement aside, Yoda's theme was a great encore. The lighting turned green again and I couldn't stop grinning. I also couldn't help but lean forward in my seat, straining to capture every note in my mind.

When they finished, I saw several orchestra turning pages and knew there was more to come. Mr. Williams bowed once, waved his hands to quiet us down and launched into the Star Wars Main Theme. It was pure sci-fi and music geek euphoria. Based on which themes were represented and how long each was, I decided it must have been the arrangement from the credits of the first movie. There could not have been a better ending to the night. When it finished I was one of the first to leap up and begin the standing ovation. As the applause went on (we were all secretly hoping they would keep playing all night) Mr. Williams put his hands together and closed his eyes, miming sleep, and we knew it was the end.

I have been to a great many concerts in my life, but this was certainly one of the best, and a night to remember.

-Kim

summer jobs

It's official--I now have two part-time jobs for the summer. Not only will I be working part-time at the circulation desk at the Simmons library, I will also be a summer Freedom Trail guide at Park Street Church.

I know, talking to tourists all day may seem like a stretch for me, but I'll be telling them all about the history of this amazing 200-year-old church, which I find incredibly fascinating. And on rainy/slow days I can help straighten out the church archive. Plus, my theology background (which impressed my interviewer on Tuesday) has prepared me to discuss issues with people who come in and want to know what the church is about today, as well as in the past. I'm really looking forward to it.

The best part is that the schedule fits perfectly with the trip home I'm taking in June for grandma's 90th birthday party. The church doesn't open for tourists until mid-June, after I get back. We'll have a couple days of training, talking with all the ministerial staff so we know what we're talking about, and I've been told all the tour guides will walk the whole Freedom Trail together so that we can better understand the place of Park Street Church in the greater historical picture of Boston. This should also help all the guides form a community, which will be nice. I'm finally starting to connect with people at Park Street, but it's slow, and I need all the help I can get.

-Kim