Meat Textiles: A Fabric Story

I have been spending a lot of time in the sewing room, trying to replace all the merchandise I sold at Indy Blooms, Midwest Model Mayhem, and via internet sales. I found some really nice and colorful new fabrics last week.

Isn't fabric this pretty? (I'm tempted to keep it for myself.) I made a Traditional pouch

and an Extra Long Traditional from it. (XLT) 

I was actually searching for a flamingo fabric a customer had requested when I found these brightly colored fabrics. I made a Traditional to sell

and an XLT for the customer. This flamingo fabric reminds me of a summer evening.

Finally, I made two XLTs from this fabric.

XLTs fit Contantina, the Cleveland Bay, Shagya Arabian, and other of Breyer's longer models.

I often get asked as to where I get my fabrics. The answer? Everywhere and anywhere. I even search state by state for mom and pop/locally owned fabric stores which is how I found those fabrics above. Most of the time I don't find anything new, sometimes I do, and other times, I am utterly taken aback as to what can be found in a fabric shop.

Here's a quick story about the latter.

One place I get recommendations on where to find fabric is from friends. One of my fellow musicians from my opera days, Charis Bean Duke, is just as an accomplished sewist as she is a professional musician. 

Charis buys a lot of her fabric from abroad and shares those links with me.  The British shop fabric godmother web site, though, turned out to be an eyebrow raiser.

It looked totally normal, but when doing a search for horsey fabrics, I discovered that they carried fabrics that were very realistic meat prints. There was a disclaimer that said:

It needed that disclaimer because onsite photos of those cabbage leaves, veggies, and especially the sides of raw beef absolutely, 100% looked real. And yet, it was all fabric. A little taken aback, I wondered who would want to buy fabric like that? Maybe film and theater companies would want foods for filming and performances that would not spoil? Those meat textiles were realistic enough for that!

Those textile food pictures made me feel a little sick, but they also made me smile. Why? In an opera that Charis wrote and I performed in, we were using fake food in it, although ours was plastic, not fabric. And that fake food led to a near disaster between Music City Son Cole and me during the performances. The irony and the connection back to our opera days made me smile.

One last mini fabric story, just for fun. Charis also does needlework and gifted me with this embroidered picture she made and framed for me (barn wood!) several years ago. 

Anyone else think that Marabella might have been the model for the horse?

Back to the sewing room to enjoy my fabrics with pretty horses and ponies on them and no meat textiles in sight!

O Dear, Dear Piano Student

My dear friend and former piano teacher to all six of my kids, Charis Bean Duke, occasionally writes about the humorous happenings of a piano teacher through her "O Dear, Dear Piano Student" musings. They always make me smile and sometimes I even laugh out loud.

Today's, though, made me cry.

O Dear, Dear Piano Student,

You came to your lesson between chemo treatments, with half your beautiful hair now gone, and asked if you could play Phantom of the Opera because it makes you happy. 

Yes. We will play Phantom every day, every week, until your hair grows back. 

Sincerely,
Your humbled piano teacher

Counting my blessings.

50 Shades?

My dear friend, Charis Bean Duke, has written an insightful blog post about the things we put in our minds. With her permission, I share that entry here. Thanks, Charis!

--

In elementary school there were several posters on the cafeteria walls that announced "You Are What You Eat."  My friends and I found this hysterically funny.  Someone would eat a Twinkie and say, "Look, my arm's a Twinkie now!"  A boy named Johnny was the only kid who liked and ate the kale the school was so determined to serve us.  Everyone watched him carefully to find the first hints of green skin.  Now that I am older I appreciate what those posters were trying to teach us, that it matters very much what we put into our bodies.  But I think it matters even more what we put into our minds.  We are, indeed, what we read, watch, and listen to.

That's why I don't really care for chick flicks or chick lit.  I don't spend much time perusing books with characters named "Daphne Flowers" or "Ridge Stone."  Daphne, of course, is illustrated on the cover; her long "raven hair" tousled, her "violet eyes" brimming, her bodice overtly askew.  I always wish I could say to Daphne, "My dear, you should really go to college, pursue a career, and stop identifying yourself as some man's appendage.  Oh, and borrow my t-shirt."  I don't want to agree with Daphne, sympathize with her silly plight, or view the world through her lens.  I don't want to become Daphne. Therefore, I don't let her in.

So when trailers for Fifty Shades of Grey start popping up everywhere, I feel such discouragement.  Why are many women interested in this mindless pablum?  (And yes, this movie is targeted to women.  If any man sees this movie it will be because the woman in his life dragged him there.)  What aspect of Fifty Shades of Grey do they want to become?  Submissive?  Abused?  Depraved?  Consumed by the pursuit of sexual gratification? 

"Hey," these women cry, "Don't be so serious.  It's just a movie.  It's just entertainment."

Wrong.  There is no such thing as "just entertainment."  Don't fool yourself. Since the dawn of mankind entertainment has been a powerful tool to shape the thoughts and actions of people.  Early cultures staged ritualistic dramas to teach beliefs, morals, and appropriate behavior.  In ancient Greece playwrights used satire and farce to successfully foment social change.  In the late 18th century the French playwright Pierre Beaumarchais wrote a trilogy of Figaro plays that was openly critical of aristocratic privilege.  The most revolutionary of the three plays, "The Marriage of Figaro," dealt with the privilege of "droit du seigneur," the right of the royalty to get "first dibs" with a servant's bride before the wedding night.  The court censor banned it.  King Louis XVI declared it would never be performed.  Marie Antoinette defied the order and soon the play was performed all over Paris, with great effect.  The French saw revolt, heard revolt, read revolt, and surprise, surprise, had a revolution.

O my fellow sisters (and brothers, too!) of the planet Earth, what do you want to become?  I can think of so many wonderful things I'd like to be; how about Fifty Shades of Creative?  Fifty Shades of Compassionate?  Fifty Shades of Healthy, Beautiful, Understanding, Wise, Educated?  Let us make a solemn vow to be anything, anything but Fifty Shades of Stupid.

Hooray for Charis!

I was just looking at this issue of Hymns Today and was delighted to see a familiar name - look under the word "Mother's."

Charis!! She has a piece in this issue.

As I studied the magazine's cover, I realized that I know a second composer on that cover, Michael Hicks. He did his doctorate at the University of Illinois and is now a professor at Brigham Young University.

Makes me feel a bit wistful - one of these days I would love to get back into music myself.

Celebrating the Beauty in Life

I sang this piece, Selig sind de Toten (Blessed are the Dead) by Heinrich Schutz (1585 - 1672) when I sang with The Madrigal Singers in Champaign, Illinois. It has to be one of the most beautiful pieces of music I have ever sung.

You can listen to a rendition of it here.

It still gives me chills as I listen to it. Tears.

Charis writes today in her blog about the composer and how he endured terrible deprivation in his life, yet instead of sinking down and wallowing in the depths, continued to write uplifting, beautiful music which still brings joy to us 400 odd years later. Then she compares that to the tendency of today's authors, musicians, and others to write using ugly language and celebrate the evils of the world through their talents. "After all, everybody speaks like that," she has been told.

I'm with Charis and Schutz on this one. Yes, there are terrible things in our world, no argument about that. But I choose to keep my focus on the things around us that are lovely, good, and uplifting.

Thank you, Heinrich Schitz, and others like him as well as those today who use their gifts and talents to celebrate that which is good.

"I'm Just a Composer"

My dear friend and music mentor, Charis Bean Duke, writes in her blog this week about world problems and being a composer. Reflecting on a recent conversation she had with her youngest daughter about the problems in the world, she says,

"...but I'm a musician, a composer, the most useless of all professions at solving world crises."

Useless? Oh, no, I don't think so, Charis!

First, a little background information. Charis and I became friends when she and her husband, David, came to the University of Illinois to study music in the early 1990s. She saw something musical in me I did not see, and invited me to join her eight member group of musicians that sang madrigals, put on full-fledged operas, and sang at other churches in Champaign/Urbana on Sunday mornings. I was the only non-professional musician in the group, and although I did enjoy singing, I had never dreamed at doing so at such levels. It was quite a ride and really stretched me musically, but I achieved musical heights I never dreamed of.

(More on our group can be found here.)

Charis Bean Duke, composer

As a result of my experience with Charis's musical group, I even chose to do a minor in Music when I got my undergraduate degree from the University of Illinois; my Masters work in Aesthetics and Education was a direct result, too.

The timing of Charis's post lamenting what she as a composer can do to solve world issues is good - I am currently drafting a blog entry about the Reaction Art Museum my class just put on. In it, we explored how some of our world's greatest works of art have come about as a reaction to terrible tragedy, and how those works of art (including literature, music, visual arts, etc.) can work to teach future generations and help keep them from repeating mistakes of the past.

But Charis, despite having asked what she can do, does still see value in her work as a musician. She finished her blog by saying,

What can I do?  I know a teenage girl who is rebelling against her parents.  She's a pianist.  I'm a pianist.  She likes Chopin, Debussy, and Bach.  So do I.  We've played some duets together and she's asked me to show her some of my own music.  I'm just a composer, but perhaps a composer is the right person to reach this lost child.  I can't save the children on the Korean ferry.  Maybe I can save one girl from making decisions she will later regret.

More on her music can be found here. and at www.charisbeanduke.com.  I suggest playing the clip for Christmas Grace.

Reminiscing About Opera and Madrigals

A musician I used to sing and perform with passed away yesterday.

 Dr. Blaine Edlefsen.

Blaine was a professor of music at the University of Illinois and the principle oboist for the Champaign-Urbana Symphony. He could "circular breathe" while he played - breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth at the same time. (Try as I might, I never was able to do that, even without an oboe reed in my mouth.)

I met him at church where he led the music in Sacrament meeting for years. At that time, there was a core group of strong musicians in the ward, many of whom were working on their Doctorate of Musical Arts at the university.

Charis Duke, also an oboist and a composer, decided to form an octet of singers to do madrigals, opera, and sing at churches in the Champaign/Urbana area. To my surprise, I was invited to join the group.

I was thrilled to be asked to sing with them, but also very intimidated - I was the only non-professional musician in the group. The musicianship of the others and the level of music which we performed was at the highest level, and I had to work HARD to keep up. The result, though, was that my own musicianship grew by leaps and bounds. I kept up, but just barely.

Our octet consisted of:

 Charis Duke. She lives in Philadelphia and composes operas, chamber music, and other pieces. She is also an accomplished cellist, oboist, pianist, and organist. We've been friends now for about twenty-five years.

David Duke, Charis' husband who received a DMA in opera from the University of Illinois. He is a Heldentenor and has a rich, mellow voice. He was a finalist for the New York Metropolitan Opera's program for new talent. He sings in off-Broadway productions up and down the east coast.

Robert Nakea, a concert pianist who received his DMA from the University of Illinois. Robert is from Hawaii and a teddy bear of a man. The Osmond family hired Robert  to teach piano to their kids when he was a student at BYU, and Kyle was lucky enough to study with Robert, too. While his expertise is the piano, Robert also has a lovely bass and sang that role in our group.

Cindy Nakea, Robert's wife, and a lyric soprano/opera singer as well as my voice teacher. I was a stay-at-home mom at the time with no extra money for voice lessons, and Cindy needed a wardrobe as she and Robert were going on a concert tour of Italy and Europe for the summer. In exchange for voice lessons, I sewed her wardrobe for those performances.

Jill Peper, concert pianist. Jill's degree was from Penn State, but Randy was on faculty at the U of I in the College of Veterinary Medicine and that brought them to the area. Jill sang alto in our group - her musicianship was as top notch as the rest of them!

Our group sang together for about four years, and in that time we put on two operas and many concerts. The biggest musician-compliment I have ever gotten was when Charis wrote an opera for us to perform, and asked me to sing the role of Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ. She told me she had written the role for my voice, which is (or was; it's been a few years since I sang!) more on the coluratura side than lyric soprano. I'd never had a piece written specifically for me to perform, and I doubt I ever will, so that music is very special to me.

(Coloratura refers to a type of music - very high, full of trills and runs, or a very high soprano voice that is light and airy, and can quickly touch on the notes. Here is an example of a coloratura piece sung by the Queen of the Night in the opera The Magic Flute: 

When my voice was at its best, I had a high E-flat above C.)

The opera, The Innkeeper's Wife, had an aria for Mary to sing with a high B-flat. I sweated that note, but I hit it in all the rehearsals and in both performances. (Don't think I could now!) Blaine sang the role of Joseph, and in one scene we wended our way through the audience, singing a duet together as we made our way to Bethlehem and the stage. (Jessica and Cole also were in that opera with me - what a treat!)

Blaine sang with Jessica in Amahl and the Night Visitors - Jessie performed the role of Amahl and Blaine the role of the wise man who carries the treasure box and has his finger bitten by the parrot.

Good memories, of friends who taught me so much, and of a time when I had a golden opportunity to work with an incredibly talented group of musicians.

My Kind of Wreath!

My religious faith is very important to me; it and my family are the two things I value most in my life. And so, I love and anticipate  the holidays. Thanksgiving is a wonderful combination of being grateful for your blessings and family (plus food ::cough cough::) while Christmas is a celebration of the Savior's birth coupled with family visits (and more food.)

Certainly I value other things that are in my life, too. Education is a whopper. The welfare of children. Friends. Music.

And, of course, horses.

Charis Bean Duke, a musician and composer friend from my opera-singing days, sent me a picture yesterday via Facebook accompanied by a note that said, "Lynn, you must have this!"

Oh, Charis, you know me so well!!

I followed the link to see if I could purchase one, and orders are closed. Drat. Okay, maybe I can make one? I've got access to the materials, but I am not sure what was used for the frame. 

My sister-in-love, Cindie, has a degree in horticulture and does beautiful floral arrangements. (The ones she did for Leslie and Rick's wedding were absolute stunners. (In the photo currently at the top of my blog, Craig is wearing a buttoniere she made.)

I already have an email out to Cindie to get her advice on the frame. Stay tuned - our door may be sporting a different sort of holiday wreath this year!

John Williams' Humor

Got this from Charis Bean Duke, my kids' piano teacher and with whom I sang with in Illinois (she composed the opera, The Inkeeper's Wife.) She is now a composer living in North Carolina and we share a love of Star Trek/Star Wars.

As she said, "Oh, John Williams, you sly one, you!"

I Can Still Hit It!

My kids remember when I used to sing. A LOT. I took voice lessons, sang in a Madrigals group with a talented group of musicians from the University of Illinois, and performed in several operas. Every week I had something musical going on; it was heavenly!  And the eight musicians I worked with were top notch - I learned so much from them, and loved being immersed in music. (I even did my minor at the University of Illinois in music, thinking I might get my Masters in Vocal Performance.)

My biggest musical thrill and honor came when Charis Duke composed the Christmas opera The Innkeeper's Wife for our group and wrote the role of Mary for my voice.  All my kids have musical talent (although most, like me, have let it lapse) and Jessica had a supporting role as the lead daughter in the family, while Cole performed as the youngest child in the Inkeeper's family. To actually have a role written for me by a professional musician... I still get excited just thinking about it.

But now, I rarely sing any more. My voice is woefully out of shape, and I am embarrassed at how it sounds. Even at Church, the only time I get the opportunity to sing, I hold back. At times I wish I had kept my voice in shape, but I simply don't have the time to do so.

Friday night, Sarah sat down at the piano and began playing Christmas hymns. One thing led to another, and I went upstairs, grabbed my file stuffed full of music I'd performed, and brought it down for her to play. Jesu Bambino, O Holy Night, and others I had sung so many years ago were dragged out, and she played while I made the first real effort to sing since we moved here.

For a while, I sounded really, really bad. I have little control now and my breathing is shaky. But after a few pieces, I sort of "found" my old voice; it was like everything slipped into place - I could control my breathing, there was strength to the sound, and the tone quality sounded more like it used to (and like music instead of screeching or keening!) I relaxed and simply sang along as Sarah played those beautiful, sacred Christmas songs.

Suddenly, I realized that the song I was singing was climbing the scale. Did I still have an F? (Yes!) Oh, my.. a G was coming. Could I hit it? (I did!) And then, there it was, a high B flat. I took a breath, continued singing the lyrics that led up to it, and...

I hit it! I can still hit a high B flat!!

Now, that just made my evening. And it got me thinking. Maybe I could do some singing again.

And then reality hit me - those hours and hours I used to spend practicing, driving with rehearsal tapes going so I could learn roles in the car, meeting my voice coach on campus for lessons, evening rehearsals... That isn't going to happen now.

Still, it's nice to dream, and it's even nicer to know that perhaps I haven't totally lost my voice. Friday night proved that.

Maybe someday. :)

An Old Friend Pops In

Charis Duke has known me for probably twenty five years or more.  We met when she and her husband, David, moved to Illinois to attend the University of Illinois. Charis taught my children piano lessons in our home, and she also invited me to sing with her in a Madrigals group that she founded and several opera productions (one in which she wrote a role for me - Mary, in The Inkeeper's Wife. I still remember sweating that high B flat I had to sing!)

I don't hear from her much as she is very busy, but today she surprised me with the following post on my Facebook page. Needless to say, it made my day.

Charis Bean Dukeposted toLynn Martin Isenbarger

20 hours ago

Shout out to Lynn Isenbarger, my old friend (old as in long-time acquaintance, not as in we are getting old!). I had the pleasure of eating ice cream with Jessie and her hubby and Lisa this summer, and I gotta tell you, you done good! Your children are something to be proud of. I know it wasn't easy and you had your share of trials and chaos, but look how great they are! And now that my own children are older, I understand how hard it can be to raise them well. So hats off to Lynn! And to the Borg too, I'm sure he helped a little ;)