Connections & Reflections no. 23: a series of short notes, essays, and musical offerings from us to you, our supporters. Dana Cattani, member of our alto section since 2017, writes to you and shares the video below.
Many thanks to all who have contributed. We welcome contributions and ideas from our readers.
No Emotion That Voices Cannot Render
My 88-year-old father died in September. He had a stroke, and for more than a week he was unconscious and under hospice care. It was clear that he was unlikely to regain consciousness.
As I anxiously awaited updates from my family in California, I felt an overwhelming need for music. I hummed, I played the piano, and I told my smart speaker to find The Navy Hymn, so I could sing along to one of my father’s favorites. My paternal grandfather had served in the Navy during World War II, and my father followed in his footsteps in the 1950s. Whenever we heard this hymn at a memorial or national event, my father would always recall hearing it during the funeral of John F. Kennedy. From the time I was a small child, I associated this music with moments of great honor, sorrow, and reverence.
In times of grief, I want to sing. In times of joy, I want to sing. In times of illness and despair, I want to sing. In times of gratitude and hope, I want to sing. I know of no human emotion that voices cannot render in song.
Three years ago, I joined the Bloomington Chamber Singers in hopes of learning challenging repertoire and broadening the range of music I could access in my head. From Bach to Duruflé to Rachmaninov to Poulenc to Gjeilo, I have been challenged and enlightened by the musical reach of this group.
It enriches my life.
Musical Offering
Here is a version of “Eternal Father” (The Navy Hymn):
