Who Needs a Lobotomy When You Have High School Musicals!

Ah yes, we're less than 2 weeks away from the Ripley High School production of Annie, Get Your Gun, and let me say that rehearsals are going swimmingly! No, that's not true. Last night's rehearsal was horrendous! And, you know how these types of things are...it feels like it will never come together until it magically does the night before the 1st performance. Well, we might need a little more magic than normal. ;)

Last night was the 1st rehearsal with everyone--cast, crew, orchestra. From my vantage point behind the piano, I was most concerned about the marriage between music and drama. About 1/3 of the drama takes place with music in the background, and the director hasn't taken the time to explain to the actors that their words have to match how the music flows, otherwise everything gets off. Last night was the first time it's been blaringly obvious. Up to now, they've had me just "go with what the cast does," which essentially means "completely disregard how the music is written and make the notes fit how they're acting. That's a lot easier for a pianist to do than an entire orchestra. As a matter of fact, an orchestra just can't do that. So, there was a low level of chaos. Now, fortunately, we're finding this out this week...instead of next week. There is still time to hammer home the idea that they have to cue off of the band director, instead of the band director cuing off of them.

All in all, the director has generally disregarded the music aspect of the show, and it shows. If I agree to work with the musical next year, I'm afraid I might have to make a list of things that I'm gonna insist on going differently.

Well, I don't like the idea of using my blog as a soapbox for ranting, but honestly, this is definitely what's going on with me for the time being. :) I go to work, I eat, I go to musical rehearsal, and I sleep. Maybe in two weeks I'll have better topics to post about. ;)

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Do you know who Dietrich Bonhoeffer was? Until today, I had heard his name a few times; I had seen it here or there in passing, but I had never taken the time to find out his story. Well, I got to hear about it today.

As is my current Sunday morning ritual, I drive 45 minutes to Tupelo, MS, to attend church. I typically try to get "in the mood" for church, as it were; honestly, sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't. This morning, it worked. I was flipping through the radio channels, trying to find some good praise & worship music; unfortunately, in rural Mississippi, all you usually get is Southern Gospel quartet music. Anyway, I found my way to Mississippi's NPR station, which airs a show called "Speaking of Faith" at 9AM--today, the topic was Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

Okay, so who was he? He was a German theologian during Adolf Hitler's rise to power. Because of the widespread violence that defined WWII Europe, it's often noted that Bonhoeffer was a pacificist, as well as a critic of Hitler's regime and how it hijacked Christianity as somehow supporting the Nazi cause. Like most German critics of Nazism, Bonhoeffer found himself imprisoned, and he was hanged in 1945.

While imprisoned, Bonhoeffer did a lot of writing, much of it in the form of letters to friends and family. All his prison writings have been compiled into a collection aptly called, Letters and Papers from Prison. I looked around the Internet and found a few excerpts from the book. What's so neat about this collection is its candor and its approachability. After all, Bonhoeffer wasn't writing scholarly theses, he was writing notes to his closest companions. He doesn't gloss over the fact that he's a screwed-up human being, and what I especially liked is that his letters chronicle his pursuit for understanding. He writes about the topics he thinks about...not in order to present an "answer," but to foster a dialogue. I think that parallels so nicely to how each of you uses your blog; they're places of honesty and openness. You don't use them to preach. You use them to share.

There was one detail I forgot to mention about Dietrich Bonhoeffer: the specific reason he found himself put to death. He participated in several attempts to assassinate Adolf Hitler. It's an amazing irony, considering his strong opposition to violence. And, that's another reason I want to read more of Bonhoeffer's writings. He was clearly a conflicted man, a man who recognized that a Christian's life is one of struggle between the earthly realm and the spiritual realm. That recognization leaves him somewhat unable to define or understand himself. I don't know about you, but that's where I find myself, more often than not.

As an example, here's a poem written by Bonhoeffer, included in Letters and Papers from Prison:

"Who Am I"

Who am I? They often tell me
I would step from my cell'­s confinement
calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
like a squire from his country-house.
Who am I? They also tell me
I would talk to my warders
freely and friendly and clearly,
as though it were mine to command.
Who am I? They also tell me
I would bear the days of misfortune
equably, smilingly, proudly,
like one accustomed to win.

Am I then really all that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself,
restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
struggling for breath, as though hands were compressing my throat,
yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,
trembling with anger at despotisms and petty humiliation,
tossing in expectation of great events,
powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?

Who am I? This or the other?
Am I one person today, and tomorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
and before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me still like a beaten army,
fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?

Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, thou knowest, O God, I am thine.


That's perhaps the most relatable piece of writing I've ever read.