We spent the 2021 pandemic learning all twenty choruses of Handel’s Messiah with individual study, guided practice videos made by our director, and weekly Zoom meetings to check in with each other and socialize. We started live rehearsals for Messiah right after our March concert in 2022. Thanks to all that practicing we did at home during our 2021 “virtual season”, the Messiah came together quickly resulting in a very successful performance on June 12, 2022 with soloists and orchestra of period instruments.
We are all grieving and still in shock over the sudden loss of our dear Louise. Her niece, Maya, been especially appreciative of the Kent Singers. Maya sent us this email:
Please let the Kent Singers know what a special place they hold in her heart — and mine as well! She loved pouring over the information to create programs for your performances. She admired Knox’s notes — not just the details about the pieces you performed, but the historical details and his interpretations as well. Magical.
She also found comfort and pleasure in singing with such a dedicated group. She told me about her routines in preparing for the different pieces — researching online, getting together with other singers, and I found several boxes of Throat Coat Tea in her kitchen. She would describe in detail the rehearsals, how the groups engaged with one another and Knox’s natural ability to draw out the talents of each singer and group. The pandemic interrupted your time together in-person, which she missed dearly.
The consistency and care of community, the sharing of musical passions, and the camaraderie — all ingredients to a full life she lived up here. Living in the Kent area and being part of the Kent Singers was heaven on earth for her (and for me when I visited) — one member wrote, “I want to surround her with love and wish her godspeed. Maybe she’s on her way to the land where music really lives.”
You all were that place and that comfort for her.
Tributes published in our Messiah concert program:
Louise was a lady—educated, elegant and under-stated—with a zany sense of humor that revealed an exuberant, youthful soul. She was adventurous and liked to travel and try new things. She loved to cook and appreciated good food; she loved plants and worked tirelessly in her luxuriant gardens. She loved dogs, knew all about their training and upbringing, and always had a faithful canine companion at home. She loved spending time with her family. Her spotless little house was sparingly furnished with treasures that showcased her good taste.
And Louise loved music. In spring 2020, when Covid put an end to Kent Singers rehearsals, we sat on my porch and practiced the “Songs of the British Isles” program a cappella, song by song, with her singing alto to my soprano. When the Kent Singers finally performed the concert two years later, this past March, Louise had already left us.
Louise was generous, sharing perennials from her garden and stylish clothes from her wardrobe. She was organized, thoughtful, cultured, charming, witty, insightful, and a delight to be with. She exited this life as many of us would want to: quickly and quietly, without fanfare, leaving us all in shock yet grateful to have known her and to have walked beside her for a little while.
— Mellisa Merkling, Kent Singer
I am one of the altos and one of the many now broken-hearted over the loss of Louise. She was a dear friend and it is difficult to sing without her by my side. I remember first meeting her and admiring those curls of hers! We used to practice music for a concert at my house, since I had a piano, and we wanted our singing to be as close to perfect as possible. We would let each other know if a note was off, or if I was too loud! A true friend. We shared a love of dogs as well as our music, although her love of sweets surpassed mine! She was so intelligent and could discuss any subject with insight. She is greatly missed!
— Lori McDonald, Kent Singer
I first met Louise over 30 years ago when she was a puppy raiser for Guiding Eyes for the Blind. She later was employed by Guiding Eyes, as was I, and our friendship continued. When I think of Louise, I think of a woman who always loved dogs, especially German Shepherds. It was rare to see Louise without a dog by her side, whether during her tenure at Guiding Eyes or in the years to follow. How many times I bumped into her as we were each out for a walk with our dogs!
— Susan White, Kent Singer
Louise was such a beautiful and gentle soul. She welcomed me into the Kent Singers and we became friends over her love of animals and her great care of her dogs. Animals know when they are safe and loved and hers certainly did.
— Trish Grinnell, Kent Singer
The alto section is not the same without Louise’s calm and regal presence, lovely voice, and enthusiasm. Her interests and friendships were wide-ranging: she enjoyed discussing everything from ethics to car problems, always reading an interesting book. She looked for what was admirable, or unusual, in others. She had a sly sense of humor, too, and loved finding what was quirky in the behavior of those around her. She was so fond of the whole gamut of the Kent Singers. There were many things I meant to do with Louise! She is still very present in our thoughts.
— Ann Quackenbos, Kent Singer
As an alto I have a lot of alternatives for whom to sit next to. But Louise could be counted on to be professional, good-humored, and on point at every rehearsal. Because I wasn’t the only alto to notice this, she was often surrounded by others, but I always got as close as I could. Louise was a singer’s singer and an alto’s alto. Even though our alto section is our largest section, it is just too small since Louise left us.
— Robin Gustafson, Kent Singer
The Kent Singers is just not the same without Louise’s steady hand. She was the driving force behind the group’s return to its former glory. And behind is the right word: Louise always worked her magic from behind the scenes, with no fanfare, on tasks as varied as creating flawless concert programs to maintaining accurate historical concert data… and everything in between.
Varied also describes Louise’s many interests, and the diverse group of people who were lucky enough to call her friend. Whether it be Guiding Eyes, the Kent Library, the New Milford Hospital, or the Kent Singers, Louise left her imprint on Litchfield County, and we all mourn her loss.
— Norma Hart, Kent Singer
From the moment I began conducting The Kent Singers, I had the pleasure of working closely with Louise to prepare the concert programs—a job she handled patiently and professionally. Over the years, I got to know her better on a personal level, particularly in the months she provided a warm bed, delicious food, and rides to and from the train station, when I was commuting too far to get home on Wednesday nights. Most of all, she provided the most wonderful companionship on those nights and very early mornings, and we often talked much too late into the night.
Louise turned a challenging period of my life—with long commutes, stress over housing, and too much time apart from my (then) fiancé—into a special time that was abruptly cut short by the onset of the pandemic, when rehearsals and life in general ground to a halt. Louise and I had been discussing options for her to practice sight-reading, when I heard the sudden news of her passing. She was an inquisitive learner to the end and always looking to grow. I miss her dearly and often still expect to see her smiling face and attentive eyes in the alto section.
Louise left behind a CD she had put together of her favorite choral music, which we found in her Kent Singers folder. We have selected “He watching over Israel,” from Mendelssohn’s Elijah as a prologue to our concert in memory of and thanks for her legacy.
George Frideric Handel’s Messiah holds a singular place in the choral canon. It is a fixture of many choirs’ annual seasons–whether in full or in part–particularly in December. In New York City alone, there are often more than 20 performances of the piece in that single month. The Oratorio Society of New York has performed it annually since 1874, and the tradition of annual repetition goes all the way back to Handel himself. The 1743 premiere in Dublin was a tremendous success, and though Messiah initially met with a less enthusiastic reception in London, by 1750, Handel began leading yearly charitable performances at London’s Foundling Hospital. Reflecting on the work’s already monumental success by the end of the 18th century, music historian Charles Burney wrote that Messiah “fed the hungry, clothed the naked, fostered the orphan, and enriched the succeeding managers of Oratorios, more than any single musical production in this or any country.”
A Red, Red Rose and Highland Mary both come from American composer James Mulholland’s set of Four Robert Burns Ballads. Robert Burns is generally considered the national poet of Scotland. Though he wrote great poetry in the Scots language, he also wrote in a “light Scots dialect” that was accessible to broader English-speaking audiences and has influenced writers, musicians, and even political and social thought well beyond the borders of his homeland. “A Red, Red Rose” is one his best known poems, set here with equal parts urgency and tenderness.
27a. Evangelist Die Kriegsknechte aber, da sie Jesum gekreuziget hatten, nahmen seine Kleider und machten vier Teile, einem jeglichen Kriegesknechte sein Teil, dazu auch den Rock. Der Rock aber war ungenähet, von oben an gewürket durch und durch. Da sprachen sie untereinander:
27b. Chorus Lasset uns den nicht zerteilen, sondern darum losen, wes er sein soll.
27a. Evangelist The soldiers however, that had crucified Jesus, took his clothing and made four parts, one part for each soldier, the same also with his robe. The robe, however, had no seam, being woven from top to bottom. Then they said to each other:
27b. Chorus Let’s not divide this, rather let’s toss for it, to see whose it will be.
The St. John Passion is a work of both high drama and deep intimacy. The tenor Evangelist acts as narrator, carrying the bulk of the story in the words of Martin Luther’s translation of the Gospel According to St. John. The other principle dramatic roles are sung by two basses, relaying the words ascribed to Jesus and Pilate. Most of the other spoken text in the Passion narrative comes from crowds—soldiers, citizens, or a collection of high priests—and these words are given to the chorus, often with virtuosic writing to capture the fervor described in the narration. Dubbed turba choruses, from the Latin for crowd, these choruses could easily be characterized as turbulent, a word derived from the same root.
As the soldiers play dice in “Lasset uns den nicht zerteilen” (27b), Bach “plays” with his fugue, changing the order of the entrances of the voices and changing the intervals at which they enter in ways that are indescribably difficult to execute as a composer.
The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight.
I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes over me That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain, As the mist resembles the rain.
Come, come read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day.
Read from some humble poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start;
Then read from some treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice, The beauty of thy voice.
And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall be banished like restless feelings And silently, silently, silently, Silently steal away.
Concluding the first section of our program, The Day Is Done is a perfect illustration of the style for which Stephen Paulus was so beloved: homophonic, strophic settings in a warm harmonic language that is familiar yet identifiably Paulus’s own. The Longfellow poem describes an evening’s reminiscence with vivid similes and asks for poetry to fill the night with music and banish “the cares, that infest the day.”
