Kalamazoo 2025: A Very Busy Saturday

Saturday was BUSY. Attendance at the show was high and boy howdy, the aisles were crowded with people who'd come to time travel with us. Luckily I had had so much help and was prepared to go when the doors opened at 9:00.

Ready to Go!

The sign I had made last summer worked fine at an indoor show, too.

Remnants from the things I have sewn always sell first - there are sewists who make it a point to shop my booth first so they can get them because I sell out quickly. The first lady to get to me took over half of them leaving only a small group for the next person.

Toques! Made by my friend, Frannie (I taught both of her kids when we lived in Illinois), she has a new job and won't be able to make any more for me, at least not for the foreseeable future. That's too bad - her toques are really high quality both in the wool she uses and in her knitting. I get compliments all the time on them.

18th century working class ladies almost always had a needle and thread on their person. Pin pillows hung on a ribbon from their apron strings ensured that those were always available.

The blackened beeswax ornaments. There is always someone, both adult and child, who thinks they are cookies to eat!

The sleeve buttons proved very popular. It was a last minute decision to make and bring them, and I am pleased with how well they were received. Even now at home I've already gotten a request for a pair that I will pack up and send tomorrow.

The biggest seller of all - maple cakes! And they sold out before noon on Sunday. I did get two for me - one I'd accidentally touched as I was serving someone, so I set it aside, and the other I dropped and it bounced across the table. Otherwise, I would not have had a single maple cake.

The People

Leslie and me just before the show opened on Saturday.

My friend Marge came over to bring me a donut and stopped and laughed when she saw me.

We'd inadvertently twinned! Of course we had to take a photo of that. 

Jamie Oxendine of the Lumbee Nation in North Carolina. Isn't he impressive? That's hand beading and stitching all over his clothing and he is wearing wampum garters (also handmade.)

Next up is my long-time friend, Brandon.

He started his own 18th century trading company, Eagle Talon Traders, when he was only 18 and it is still in business and highly successful and respected thirty years later! If I need wool, Brandon is who I call. 

This lady got a lot of attention as she walked around. She wasn't a participant, but there are lots of people who are just there to see the show who come dressed in period clothing. (Which is awesome and very welcomed by the show.) 

She was actually there on behalf of the Howell Opera House, a historic building in Howell, Michigan and was using her clothing to generate interest in preserving it. 

Her headdress represents the chandeliers, the petticoat the grand curtains, etc. What a clever idea! And while not exactly the purpose of the event, in a way, it was - she was trying to preserve a part of our past just as everyone else was! Pretty cool in my book!

(There are always a few unusual outfits at living history events. I liked hers MUCH better than the two teenage boys who were walking around in outfits that were smeared with fake blood. Who knows what they were representing.)

This lady loved Frannie's toques and this choice fit her very well.

Leslie doing an interview with the local news.

Once again, since Gretchen was on staff, we had to stay after the 5:00 closing. Everyone, vendors included had to leave the building, and then the place needed to be walked to ensure no stragglers were left. Security then came in to take over and we could leave. 

Gretchen and I stopped at Wendy's and grabbed dinner, then went back to our rooms in the hotel.

I called and talked to Craig and then had crashed into bed by 8:00. Sunday's wake up call was better than Saturday's but  Gretchen and I needed to be back at the Expo Center by 7:15 AM. Plus, we had to pack up and check out of our rooms the next morning. Having said that, Sunday is never as busy as Saturday, and I knew it would not be as hectic as this day had been.

Exhausted, yes,  but grateful for a good day!

Feast Saturday: Short & Sweet

Ever heard the phrase, "bright eyed and bushy tailed" to describe someone who's just gotten up and is ready to start their day?

That would not be me this morning. I am worn out and really don't want to move. But, that's for good reasons. Yesterday was a very successful and extremely busy day.

My period clothing sold very well. And despite the unexpected heat (mid 80s!), I even sold a cloak! (The weather at an event can influence what sells, and so I did not think I'd sell any cloaks or toques. And I did not sell a single toque.)

My new tent configuration significantly cut down the walking I'd done in the past, and that was a real boon. While I did still need to help customers, I could sit far more than I usually do at events, and that was helpful.

With the heat, the busyness, and all, I only took a few photos. Frank and Lisa spent the day at the Fort, popping in and out to give me breaks or to sit down themselves. (Lisa's riding habit is wool and she was quite hot.)

I did get a photo with Audrey, the opera singer. I helped her with her clothes on Thursday and Friday's School Days, and in the process, we have become friends. (I did finally tell her that I, too, had sung opera. It was a nice connection.) 

Hot, tired, and happy and heading home.

I may be too tired to write tomorrow, so don't worry if you don't see a blog entry Monday morning. But I'll be back on Tuesday for sure.

Stay 'tooned!

Cole and The Innkeeper's Wife Opera

Writing the previous post about The Inkeeper's Wife sparked one of my favorite music memories. Actually, it's two memories sort of combined into one. They involve Cole and The Innkeeper's Wife.

During the opera, Joseph and Mary (whose role I sang) come to the inn and are told there is no room for them. They are allowed to sit and rest a bit (singing throughout, naturally; this is opera, after all!) and the innkeeper's children serve them some food along with the rest of the crowded inn's guests.

During rehearsal, we did  not use real food; we used fake apples, grapes, etc. I had no idea that, during performances, real food would be used. Not that I'd really eat - I had a big solo to sing after being served, and eating and singing do NOT go together. (Plus, that solo contained a high B flat, and I really sweated that one, both in rehearsal and during the performances!)

The high B flat that terrified me so.

Cole was probably six or seven, and he played the innkeeper's youngest son. As such, he was to come onstage and offer food to Joseph and Mary. Things went just fine in rehearsal, and I had no thought that  the performances would go any differently. 

But they did. Oh, did they ever! And all because of the switch from fake to real food.

The opera was underway, and Joseph and I had made our journey to the inn after wending our way through the audience singing all the while. (As I said, it WAS opera and you sing constantly!) We made our way up the stairs and into the inn, were invited to sit and rest (again, all through song) and it was time for Cole to come out and offer Joseph and Mary some refreshments.

Out he trotted, but he was moving more quickly than he had in rehearsals. He stopped in front of me and held out the tray of food. And then to my surprise, he broke character.

"Mom!!" he hissed in a very loud stage whisper. "The food is real tonight! Look!! We're all eating it backstage!" And again he held out the tray towards Joseph and me.

Oh. My. Oh. Dear.

Did the audience hear what he'd said over the music? I didn't hear any laughter, so maybe they hadn't. I indicated (as the script called for) that I didn't care for anything to eat, and he trotted offstage.

Whew!!

I sang that solo, hitting the high B flat, sang the quartet that followed that, and then Joseph and I moved offstage.

The Innkeeper's Wife's angry rant at her daughter (sung by my daughter, Jessica).

Needless to say, I spoke with Cole that night about the importance of staying in character and not talking to me while onstage. I though that would fix the problem.

Well, it fixed the talking problem, but there was still the FOOD problem. The next evening's performance Cole came out on cue to offer Joseph and Mary their food. It was real food again...

... a three foot long loaf of French bread!! Sort of like a big light saber in the hands of a little guy!

Cole carried it out and offered it to me. I didn't know what to do - break off a hunk? The sight of a little boy carrying out a long loaf of bread (obviously someone backstage handling props had forgotten to break it into chunks and put it into a basket) made me want to giggle and lose character myself! Stifling those, and trying to focus on the words I needed to sing, I waved Cole (and the light saber bread) off.

Well, I again made it through my solo with the high B flat and the quartet that followed, and we ended the opera on a high note. (No pun intended.) There is nothing like the glow you feel after a couple of successful performances when you have accomplished something you weren't sure you could actually pull off. (Did I mention that I get terrible stage fright?) And doing it with two of your children makes it even better.

But, adding to the glow are the memories - I will never forget Cole's antics onstage as he delighted in discovering that the food at the inn was real.

The Singers with Whom I Sang

 Since we are heading out to Utah to watch family perform in a musical, I thought it would be fun to share some of my musical background. I have a Minor in Music from the University of Illinois and have sung in many operas and musicals myself.

This is a throwback post from about ten years ago.

-----

 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 worship for years. At that time, there was a core group of strong musicians who attended every Sunday, 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.

Dr. 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.

Dr. 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 our son 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 again, 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.

The Grammy Tour - a Nursery Ring Cycle

As I wrap up the Grammy Tour (part one; part two is next weekend when I go to Florida and meet little Whitney) I wanted to write down the songs I have been singing to Julie and Cambria this week. They're songs from Primary, and I sang them to my own babies when they were newly born. Funny how those same songs just popped out of my mouth as soon as I had a baby in my arms.

There are three of them, and I have usually sung them in this order (sort of like an opera ring cycle, although I certainly am not using my operatic voice to sing to the babies!)

The first song is simple but rich in meaning, and is a favorite world-wide among church members.

Sadly, copyrights prevent the Church from publishing the sheet music for the second song, but here are the lyrics.

God is Watching Over All

by Nellie Poorman

God has numbered in the sky, 

All the stars that shine on high,

Worlds so great and sparrows small,

God is watching over all.

And the third song in my nursery ring cycle is one of the first songs I learned when I joined the church.

Softly sung while rocking in a rocker, the nursery ring cycle is guaranteed to soothe fussy babies and give worn out mommies and daddies a break.

It also gives this grandmother a moment in time to cuddle her babies' babies and reflect back to when the nursery ring cycle was sung to her own little ones.

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.

Cole and The Innkeeper's Wife

Writing the previous post about The Inkeeper's Wife sparked one of my favorite music memories. Actually, it's two memories sort of combined into one. They involve Cole and The Innkeeper's Wife.

During the opera, Joseph and Mary (whose role I sang) come to the inn and are told there is no room for them. They are allowed to sit and rest a bit (singing throughout, naturally; this is opera, after all!) and the innkeeper's children serve them some food along with the rest of the crowded inn's guests.

During rehearsal, we did  not use real food; we used fake apples, grapes, etc. I had no idea that, during performances, real food would be used. Not that I'd really eat - I had a big solo to sing after being served, and eating and singing do NOT go together. (Plus, that solo contained a high B flat, and I really sweated that one, both in rehearsal and during the performances!)

Cole was probably six or seven, and he played the innkeeper's youngest son. As such, he was to come onstage and offer food to Joseph and Mary. Things went just fine in rehearsal, and I had no thought that  the performances would go any differently. 

But they did. Oh, did they ever! And all because of the switch from fake to real food.

The opera was underway, and Joseph and I had made our journey to the inn after wending our way through the audience singing all the while. (As I said, it WAS opera and you sing constantly!) We made our way up the stairs and into the inn, were invited to sit and rest (again, all through song) and it was time for Cole to come out and offer Joseph and Mary some refreshments.

Out he trotted, but he was moving more quickly than he had in rehearsals. He stopped in front of me and held out the tray of food. And then to my surprise, he broke character.

"Mom!!" he hissed in a very loud stage whisper. "The food is real tonight! Look!! We're all eating it backstage!" And again he held out the tray towards Joseph and me.

Oh. My. Oh. Dear.

Did the audience hear what he'd said over the music? I didn't hear any laughter, so maybe they hadn't. I indicated (as the script called for) that I didn't care for anything to eat, and he trotted offstage.

Whew!!

I sang that solo, hitting the high B flat, sang the quartet that followed that, and then Joseph and I moved offstage.

Needless to say, I spoke with Cole that night about the importance of staying in character and not talking to me while onstage. I though that would fix the problem.

Well, it fixed the talking problem, but there was still the FOOD problem. The next evening's performance Cole came out on cue to offer Joseph and Mary their food. It was real food again...

... a three foot long loaf of French bread!! Sort of like a big light saber in the hands of a little guy!

Cole carried it out and offered it to me. I didn't know what to do - break off a hunk? The sight of a little boy carrying out a long loaf of bread (obviously someone backstage handling props had forgotten to break it into chunks and put it into a basket) made me want to giggle and lose character myself! Stifling those, and trying to focus on the words I needed to sing, I waved Cole (and the light saber bread) off.

Well, I again made it through my solo with the high B flat and the quartet that followed, and we ended the opera on a high note. (No pun intended.) There is nothing like the glow you feel after a couple of successful performances when you have accomplished something you weren't sure you could actually pull off. (Did I mention that I get terrible stage fright?) And doing it with two of your children makes it even better.

But, adding to the glow are the memories - I will never forget Cole's antics onstage as he delighted in discovering that the food at the inn was real.

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. :)