Pacific Mozart Ensemble

by Kim Keeton

What does January mean to you? Making New Year's resolutions. Getting back to that exercise routine to burn off all those holiday calories. Trying to remember where you were at work before the break. Wondering how early you need to leave to beat the weekend traffic to Tahoe. Longing for just a few more hours of daylight in the evenings. How about this one: going to a fabulous bash where you can hear great music from a wide range of genres, bid on amazing experiences and items in a silent auction, feast on sumptuous hors d'oeuvres and wines, and help out one of your favorite musical organizations. Sounds like a fun January to me!

PME is getting ready for our annual fundraiser, which will be held on Saturday, January 27. This year's theme is "Cities and Seasons: a Musical Journey." What began years ago as an afternoon parlor concert in our director's living room has grown into a major event including a concert and silent auction, to be held at the Town and Gown Club in Berkeley.

Boy, do we have a journey for you! We'll take you on a musical tour of the world, with stops in the mid-west, Paris, Wales, Istanbul, and a long layover in one of our favorite spots, New York. Of all the events we do, I like this one the most, because we get the opportunity to sing all the genres we love. You'll hear musical theatre, covers of rock songs, classical pieces, spirituals, barbershop, and soul, just to name a few.

Of all the genres, my personal favorite is musical theatre - musical comedy, in particular. I work in a serious high-tech research job in Silicon Valley, so the opportunity to act silly and make people laugh really appeals to me. Whether it's a little smirk or a side-splitting, laugh-until-you-cry moment, it's incredibly rewarding to watch the audience reaction and know you've somehow injected a little levity.

Our soloists are out in force this year - some familiar, and some new to the PME family. I heard all of the auditions, and I can pretty much promise that they will knock your socks off, as will our ensembles, both small and large.

What's a whirlwind trip without souvenirs, you ask? Our silent auction isn't to be missed! Last year's event raised nearly a tenth of PME's overall budget, and we hope that this year will be just as successful - maybe even more so. This year's offerings include some of the hottest items of the past (Chez Panisse dinners, Rosenblum wines, spectacular dinners prepared in your home, private concerts, massages) and some one-of-a-kind surprises.

To keep your energy up on your harmonious travels, the PME culinary team is cooking up delights from places far and wide, along with lovely wines and bubbly. We haven't earned the nickname "singer-eaters" without reason! You're in for a real treat.

So put on your travelin' shoes and bring your checkbook for an amazing musical journey through time and place!

What excites you...
by Kim Keeton

...about singing, that is? I love making people laugh. One of my friends loves an opportunity to play his guitar. Several of my friends love telling stories - especially ones that tug at a listener's heartstrings. That's one of the things I love most about PME's annual fundraiser - it gives us the opportunity to perform the music that excites us the most.

I like all the pieces we'll perform at the fundraiser, but there's one that I'm especially excited about: "Rhapsody of New York." This piece, which is a four-voice rendition of Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue" with words about New York, is an utter showstopper. I first heard my fellow PMEers sing it during one of my first few years in PME, and I remember thinking that I wanted more than anything to be a part of it. When our director, Lynne, announced that the fundraiser theme would be "Cities and Seasons," I knew it was the perfect opportunity to learn it.

I didn't know much about "Rhapsody in Blue" until I picked up a children's book about it one night in the symphony gift shop. The story opens when George's brother Ira discovers a newspaper announcement for an upcoming concert called "An Experiment in Modern Music," at which George's new jazz concerto is to be featured. Only he hasn't written it yet! After George's disbelief subsides, he has to get down to business and compose the piece in a matter of weeks. Talk about writer's block! Homesick for New York while rehearsing a musical in Boston, he realizes that American music is much like its people, a great melting pot of sounds, rhythms, and harmonies. So he decides to capture this musical kaleidoscope, including snippets of jazz, Klezmer, blues, and other popular styles of 1920s New York.

The lyrics for this rendition carry on in that same fine tradition, and to me they completely evoke the feeling of being in New York. You hear the blare of the traffic, the roar of the subway, and the people bustling through the streets. You see the rich people strutting by with their noses in the air. You watch the taxicabs zig and zag as they drive to their destination. And you even hear the music coming from the Broadway theatres and the jazz clubs.

The piece is at once exhilarating and terrifying. It's amazingly challenging, both from a stamina perspective and a range perspective - three of the parts have ranges over 2 octaves! My partners in crime for this little adventure are my friends Kate, Angie and Lark. (Lark's husband, Roger, nicknamed our quartet "High Maintenance," because, frankly, we are.) We've been rehearsing for a few months now, through bad colds and sinus infections - if we can perform it under those circumstances, we think it'll be swell when we're all healthy. If we get all our tuning, transitions, and notes right, we feel utterly elated. If we get it wrong, well, we try again. Lynne came to coach us at our last rehearsal, where we tried singing it off-book for the first time. Oh my, there are so many words! It made such a world of difference to sing without the music, though - the transitions hung together better, because we could pay more attention to each other, and our tempos made so much more sense. I can't wait until the next rehearsal, so that we can practice all that we talked about!

I hope you'll be able to join us on the 27th, as we share with you the music that excites us - especially this "symphony, pounding, resounding, alive with the jive of ... New York."

Kim Keeton

Technorati : Gershwin, Pacific Mozart Ensemble, Rhapsody in Blue, Rhapsody of New York

by Emily Brockman

PME is having a party; a big, beautiful, happy, gala of a party. We have one every year about this time and we invite all of our favorite people to come celebrate with us.

That's how I see the annual fundraiser, as a big celebration of all that is best about PME. Because it's a grand musical event, a glorious and varied show where members get to perform their personal favorites, and it's a party, with wonderful wine and fabulous food.

When I first joined PME about 5 years ago, the fundraiser was an intimate affair that took place at the Grant's beautiful house on the hill. It was an elegant and gracious party managed to perfection by Gretchen Grant and Donna Warrington. There was wine and champagne and truly gorgeous food, exquisite savories, home made cheese straws, the tiniest lemon tarts I had ever seen, everything the best. In those years, I just offered to help where I could.

But soon thereafter, the fundraiser moved to a larger space so that we could have a stage to perform on, and Gretchen and Donna decided that life was too short and they needed some time for themselves (imagine) and gradually I have taken on the project of the food for the annual extravaganza that is the PME annual fundraiser.

I had always offered to help because I have been a professional cook for many years and, though I don't enjoy every aspect of catering, I do love contributing to a wonderful organization that has given me so much over the years.

But then I was on my own and I was worried about the responsibility, so I went to visit both Gretchen and Donna to receive their sage advice. Donna passed onto me (with obvious relief) her red folder stuffed with notes and recipes that she had gathered and tested over the years. This has proved invaluable, with marginalia indicating how best to bake and cut and serve for a crowd.

Gretchen wrote me a monograph full of the lessons she had learned over many years of managing an all-volunteer project, impressing upon me the differences between a volunteer effort and a professional one. With a project such as this one, it is an expression of our entire community, so part of my job is how to define tasks so that many people can be involved and to construct projects so that the people volunteering to do them will succeed and therefore be part of the overall success.

And lo and behold it has worked brilliantly. With much input from the rest of our formidable committee, I hammer out a menu of savories, sweets, fruits and cheeses. Then I sit down and plan the projects. I always try to plan things that can be made in advance and brought to be baked on site. And there are parts that I enjoy doing (making the filling for 200 tiny filo packets) and parts that I do not enjoy doing(rolling 200 tiny filo packets). I like to make the cookie dough, I hate baking the cookies. I don't much like making crostini but it's the best thing on which to eat pate so I put it on the list and contemplate whom best to ask to make them.

Sometimes things get sent home with people; last year Peggy and Josie baked the cookies and Polly made the pate. Sometimes people bring their own specialties, like Jeff and his Chocolate Delights or Annette's glorious toffee. And then there's "the work day". This is where I get people to come to my house and roll all those tiny filo packets so I don't have to, you know, many hands=light work and all that. And besides, it's tons of fun and really productive. I like to stay in the kitchen feeding off the happy energy in my house and getting ahead on the other projects that need doing. This year, while Jacquie, Corinne, and Lorna sat at my dining room table chatting and rolling, I was in the kitchen with Alexis making tortilla cups and prepping lemon curd ingredients. Love those work days.

Now I have a freezer full of tart shells, b'steeya, and tortilla cups ready to be filled. My fridge has a huge bowl of lemon curd (I ran out last year) and all the ingredients for cookies and samosas which are yet to be made. The party is well in hand and I have that sort of happy anxiety when you have done all you can and you can only wait for the curtain to go up and the show to begin.

Check out more pics of the baking party here: PME Fund Raiser 07 Food Prep

Technorati : Fund Raiser, Pacfici Mozart Ensemble

Some Enchanted Evening
by Kate Berenson
(Slideshow)

This annual PME fundraiser holds a special place in my heart. What began as a showcase for some of our very talented soloists 13 years ago has morphed into a real production, complete with some staging and props and even acting. For me, it is a personal experience. As far back as I can remember I wanted to be reborn as Julie Andrews, so this show it is an opportunity to sing the material I love best and flounce around (in character, as opposed to my usual flouncing). And every year, it turns out that I am not the only one. My incredibly talented PME peers are all out there channeling their favorite Broadway star or creating their own. Give someone a feather boa and whoa, Nellie!

What's really cool is that all of this flouncing helps to support the group. The fundraiser is the largest addition to our bottom line every season, about 20% of our total operating budget.

For the last three years, I've had the honor of being the chair of the event. Now, anyone who has ever said "yes" to such a weighty responsibility has, at some point, wondered WHAT they were THINKING and OUCH, my arm really hurts from all that twisting and HONOR-SCHMONOR, this is much harder than my REAL job and they could NEVER afford to pay me for the time I'm putting in. They (those other committee chairs), do not, however, have the most astoundingly talented and enthusiastic and organized-times-pi of all committees to make all the ducks line up. I do. Let's start with Jacquie Hale, PME's executive director extraordinaire. She is privy to every little detail, the hiccups and the all-out meltdowns and calmly jumps in and fixes them. Next on the list is our amazing administrator, Penny Dedel, who just joined us this year and has already created systems that make everyone's job immeasurably easier. Plus she has a great sense of humor. I LOVE that. Darlis Wood, a paragon of patience, is chair of the auction committee. Her job is to chase down the many donations and write them up for the displays and for the all-important catalog (which was beautifully designed by our own Angie Doctor). We had over 70 great items this year, mostly donated by PME members (anyone interested in a tour of the Highland ER with Dr. Gene Hern? Personally, I think he's much cuter than McDreamy and Gene's's a real doctor….); there was some major bidding going on! There's Alexis Jensen who, apart from an incredible singing voice both in the show and during the intermission, brought brilliant catering, décor and other ideas to the table, literally. Mari Marjarmaa was the brains behind the Silent Auction checkout, and also did signage and talked her wonderful husband, Kurt, into bar-tending (again). And Emily Brockman is the creative wonder behind the fundraiser cuisine, once again developing a fabulous menu of items specific to our theme, organizing the folks to prepare them as well as the folks in the kitchen to plate those beautiful trays of goodies almost too pretty to eat. My dear friend and singing partner, Kim Keeton, was, as always, a spectacular program liaison. While we were hammering out the details of the party, she was writing intros for the program and working with Lynne Morrow and Dick Grant to present the best possible show. My heartfelt thanks to you all. A special nod to Susie Shoaf, whose spirit was ever-present and greatly appreciated, and to Corinne Springarn for her organizational wizardry and always gracious presence at the welcome table.

And wow, what a show. We had some wonderful new faces up there: Polly Ikonen singing a bittersweet Sondheim (is there any other kind?) duet with Doug Boyd, new soprano Monica Williams blowing the walls down with Summertime, Cindy Lau and the Pips (doing actual choreography!) singing Midnight Train to Georgia (personally, I think Cindy's a shoo-in for American Idol), and some amazing small groups (Greg Lee's great New York Afternoon chart and a vocal rendition of Vivaldi's Spring) and an all-time favorite: Boy from New York City featuring Kathie Longinotti. Angie and Alexis delivered powerful performances of love and loss and Kim brought down the house with "Boy from …" Our Queen of Rock and Soul, Becca Burrington, sang beautifully in Occitan and for fun, Christina D'Allance sang Autumn Leaves in French which was completely charming. Peggy Rock took us to Paris in her solo, looking very much like Jackie O in her costume, this after doing a duet about Ohio with Gretchen Nicholson that was hysterical. Not to be outdone in the hysterical department, we had a version of Brush up your Shakespeare performed by Jim Hale and Larry Rose, complete with a soft shoe, (OK, that's a real stretch, but we forgave them) and last, but certainly not least, Istanbul (not Constantinople) featuring Gene Hern and Eric Freeman. The motorized kiddie cars were GREAT, not to mention the red fez hats. High Maintenance, the women's quartet that includes Angie, Lark Coryell, Kim and me, tackled Rhapsody of New York, a challenging, vocal marathon that requires expansive ranges up to three octaves, something like a dozen key changes and allows only five actual breaths in the entire seven minutes of singing. Doing this chart with only four voices is pretty much insane, but adrenaline is a wonderful thing.

We closed the show with Lusty Month of May from Camelot. I played/sang Guenevere. By the end of the song I was envisioning a much-younger Robert Goulet galloping up and whisking me off the stage and taking a much-younger me off to his castle in the Berkeley Hills. Instead, I went downstairs with my PME homies, had a glass of delicious Hafner Chardonnay and bid adieu to a lovely and supportive audience with arms full of silent auction goodies and, we hope, wonderful memories of another great PME fundraiser. It was some enchanted evening.

For more pictures check out the slideshow here: PME 2007 Fundraiser

Technorati : Fund Raiser, Pacific Mozart Ensemble, Town and Gown Club

I love the PME fundraiser. It's the one time each season when a whole bunch of us get to share our inner-divaness, sing our favorite songs, and discover and admire the talent among our fellow peemers. The Big Night features an entire show of new, old and sometimes unusual repertoire, an occasional costume, some fairly uncomplicated choralography and a bit of witty patter, ending with what we hope are wild applause.

It all begins with an Audition. No, the capital A is not a typo. Auditions are a big deal, even for seasoned performers. Imagine there's this Committee of your peers (five in this case, plus our music director, Lynne) sitting there, mostly smiling at you, listening earnestly, really wanting to like your song -- but they have this challenging job to do which is to put together, bit by bit, an amazing program. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The first and almost hardest part is picking the repertoire you're going to put up there for Scrutiny. (That S definitely needs to be a capital). The choices are entirely up to the auditionee, based on whatever the theme of the show is. This year, it's about love or the lack thereof, so the field is pretty wide open.

I search for months through my dog-eared collections of Gershwin and The Best of Broadway, rifle through my piano bench stuffed with photocopies of solos gone by, none of which seem to have all the pages, and finally go online to get some of the newer stuff. (This is deeply cool because you can get a lot of sheet music in different keys, on the spot, downloaded right into your computer). Then, I spread everything out on the dining room table and cull. I agonize. I whine. Maybe I am too old to sing this one anymore…can I get through this one without being reminded of that horrible ex-boyfriend in 1987…when will I get over my fixation with channeling Julie Andrews? (The answer to this last one is -- never!) I give up and call my singing partner, Kim Keeton, who is also PME's program committee liaison, and pick her brain. She is her usual paragon of patience and a fount of good ideas, and finally, the list is complete: a duet with Kim, a trio with Kim and Angie, a trio with Becca and Victor, a trio with Peggy and Kevin, and two solos. OK, then. That is until my dear friend, Lucia, over a couple of glasses of wine, plays me this duet called Therapy which her astoundingly talented daughter, Emily, has just performed. I KNOW I have to do it. There is no contest -- Kevin is the only choice for the guy-part so I gently (sort of) twist his arm and he says yes, if I insist. I do. That makes seven altogether. An embarrassment of riches. I am not embarrassed. What does this tell you about me?

Finding rehearsal time outside of our regular Monday nights becomes the next challenge. This requires coordinating multiple schedules including those of our accompanist, Kymry, who is a masterful pianist and really in demand right now. This requires patience. Oh, that. Somehow, we find a few spare half hours that works for everyone and astoundingly, very few of the songs need more than one session.

Meanwhile, the audition schedule is filling up. A week before the first night of auditions, there are over 50(!) songs on the list. Kim tells the group that the Committee can only use maybe 23 of them. Wow.

At this point in the game, I am always equal parts determined and resigned. I know that even if I knock every one of my tunes out of the park, which is pretty unlikely, there's no way most of them are going to get in. Still, I've got to give it everything I have and not think about what happens after. Be in the moment. Savor the experience. Yeah, right.

PME holds open auditions so we can cheer for our peemer-buddies. I've always thought this was a goofy idea, but on the first night of auditions I'm grateful. When I arrive, there are a few folks in the audience and the Committee is assembled in front, with their pencils poised and their ears attuned. (I've been on this Committee several times, and you couldn't ask for a nicer group of people to vet you. Still, I know what they are going to have to do. And it will involve me. And my songs. Sigh).

I show up right before Starting Here, Starting Now, which features Peggy, Kevin and I. I love singing with these two terrific musicians and I love the song, too. It goes well. We smile at each other. One down. Therapy is next. Right before we start, Kevin tells me that he has worked out some "moves" to go with the song. It will be a surprise, he says. You'll love them, he says. This worries me. Kevin can be a wild man. He has obviously taken temporary leave of his senses. He has forgotten that our greatest fear is that we will would look at each other at some point and get completely hysterical (Therapy is really funny). He throws me a curve -- and that's putting it mildly -- at the very end. It's unbelievably silly. The audience laughs and somehow we keep it together. Whew. This is good sign.

I sit down. My heart is beating hard, but not uncontrollably, also a good sign.

Kevin sings a solo next. Talk about a study in contrasts. It knocks me out. It's so beautiful that I actually stop thinking about ME and just enjoy listening. Then he sings a duet with Victor, also breathtakingly lovely. I want to kiss them both afterward, it's that good.

There is supposed to be a break after, but the Committee asks if I would like to do the next song (I have three more that evening, all in a row). I'm feeling so Zen after hearing those boys sing that I decide to go for it -- But Not for Me, one of my two solos. It is the first Gershwin song I ever learned, lovingly taught to me by my dad, a formidable jazz pianist who was, at the time, in the throes of a break-up with one of his girlfriends. Dad was really good at being maudlin, but he was always so charming about it that no one minded. He's been gone now for more than 20 years, but I'm so calm I can almost feel his presence in the room. I look at the audience and see Victor mouthing the words. It turns out it's one of his favorites. Too bad he's not on the committee, but at least I know that someone likes it.

After the break, Kim and I do a duet from "Jekyll and Hyde." I look at her for dramatic affect at the end of the piece and forget the last note. Splat. She tries not to wince. Lynne says something about it needing to be higher. I want to die, after which I mysteriously self-combust, a mysterious reminder of an audition gone sideways. No such luck, there's one more. It can only go up from here, right? I am praying silently.

How apt -- it's What I Did for Love from "A Chorus Line." I close my eyes for a half second and think about the character. Kymry is waiting for my high sign. They're all waiting. And the light goes on. The character is in the midst of Auditions. Oh duh. And she's singing about love and believing in yourself and putting it out there for the world to see. I feel like a Kodak commercial. I plant my feet, take a deep breath and away I go. "Kiss today goodbye and point me toward tomorrow….we did what we had to do…won't forget…can't regret…what I did for love…" Amen to that.

Kate Berenson
January, 2008

Technorati : Chorus Line, Gershwin, PME

Here's a little taste of the 2008 Fund Raiser. First, Kate and Kevin give us some much needed Therapy, then Lynne knocks Porgy and Bess out of the park.
Here's the pics from the event: PME 2008 Fundraiser Pics.

Enjoy.

Therapy:

My Man is Gone:

Technorati : Broadway, Gershwin, Jonathan Larson, My Man is Gone Now, Porgy and Bess, Therapy