Holiday Celebrations

I went a whole week without mentioning Miss Fisher on this blog, but that drought is about to end.

While watching the entire series for a second time, Olivia and I were reminded that Phryne's birthday is December 21st--"Summer Solstice" since the show takes place in Australia. And since Melbourne is 18 hours ahead of Seattle, Saturday was the perfect day to celebrate.  We drank champagne, ate multiple kinds of cheese, and settled in for four episodes of Miss Fisher and the movie Cold Comfort Farm.

Good times.

Sunday we celebrated Hanukkah by making/eating piles of latkes at Olivia's parents' house, and then singing a bunch of old timey Christmas carols at at party at my parents' house. (Like, Renaissance/Medieval old timey).

WHO REQUESTED JINGLE BELLS?!?!

Speaking of Christmas, I found this strange ad for a menswear store in the Seattle Times from 1920:

Employing the time-honored marketing tool of obnoxious screaming men...

...and the puzzled women who love them.

Nothing like a desperate plea for underwear to put you in the Christmas spirit

So however you celebrate this season of holidays, may joy and blessings be with you.

Music for Work: Brahms and Beyoncé

When I'm away from my desk, working on some organizational task in the textile room or the conservation lab, I like to listen to music. If I'm in earlier than anyone else, or back in a corner by myself, sometimes I lip-sync along or even dance around if I feel inspired.

But I always listen with headphones or turn it down when someone comes into the room.  My taste is eclectic and wouldn't pass most tests of coolness. Basically, at work I am usually either listening to classical music (mostly choral pieces that I have sung or am about to sing), or dance-y pop music. It's Lady Gaga and Martin Lauridsen, 'Nsync and Nunc Dimittis .

AW YEAH NICO MUHLY

Lately, my faves have been Johannes Brahms and Beyoncé.

I've been listening to a lot of Brahms because last weekend my parents had a big Brahms Requiem "sing along" party. (You know, typical American Labor day fun.) They had a conductor, two soloists,  the orchestration played by a duo on the piano, and about 30 singers at their house. We rehearsed in the afternoon, took a break for dinner, and then ran the whole thing in the evening.  I had never sung the Brahms Requiem before and when I wasn't completely botching the notes, I was finding myself deeply moved by many of the passages.

Then, on Sunday, I picked up some items waiting for me at the library, including Beyoncé's latest album which comes with a DVD of music videos for every song on the album. Olivia and I put it on, thinking that we could talk and get other stuff done while watching, but instead sat totally transfixed and silent for almost the entire seventy minutes.

If you know me, you know I talk A LOT. Olivia also likes to talk. One reason we like watching trashy reality TV shows is that we can talk over them and never really miss anything important (because, let's be honest, nothing legitimately important is ever happening, ever). When we watch something like Sherlock it takes focus and a lot more silence, so we just have to make sure we are both in the mental space to do that. So it is a big deal for us to plan to talk over something and be rendered totally speechless.

Even when it wasn't a song I loved, the visuals and the performances were POWERFUL. And in "Flawless" when she samples Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's Ted Talk about feminism...

PREACH.

(You might be surprised to know that there are more Beyoncé gifs than Brahms ones on the internet)

Wait…I found one...

***Flawless

ANYWAY, two weeks ago it was all Brahms all the time and this last week I was listening almost exclusively to Beyoncé as I put away dresses. 

Knowing that I am in a choir, one of my coworkers once asked why I don't sing more at work. I hope the above information clarifies why. If I did sing it would either be an out-of-context vocal part from a choral arrangement or a rendition of "Partition" so cringe-worthy that people in nearby buildings would feel the shame. 

In conclusion:

This week I'm thinking John Rutter and Robyn. 

Things I'm Thankful For

Dispite the occasional outburst of rage directed at decade-old NYT articles, I'm a pretty happy person. In the spirit of the season, I thought I would do a post about things I am thankful for. But I quickly realized I would have to limit it, because there is too much to pack in. All my friends are awesome, my parents and extended family are cool, and I have a super-sweet job. Gushing about all that would be boring for everyone but me. So here is a short list of highly specific things that have been giving me the happy feels recently.


Museum Volunteers Who Love Things That I Love

Despite the title of this blog, I actually haven't been doing a lot of vacuuming lately. I do a lot of delegating. So, much like a pop star who has a team of people to make her look fabulous, I am a museum diva who has a team of people who help me get my work done.

In this metaphor: Great hair = A perfect padded hanger

I have volunteers who make padded hangers, dress mannequins, sew garment covers, and help vacuum the acres of clothes that we brought from the old storage space.

Besides the fact that they help me do what it would take 20 years to do alone, what I love about  my volunteers is that they are super into into. When I take people back into storage or pick out a rack for them to clean, I never tire of getting the grown-up approximation of this face:

Everyday is like a birthday when vintage clothing is involved

The vacuuming volunteers have a particularly infectious brand of enthusiasm. Initially I was worried I would have trouble recruiting people for this mostly tedious task. They have to carefully check the garment (every seam, every pocket, every crevice) for dust, lint, and signs of bug activity, make notes about the condition, and then vacuum out any particulate matter. But the schedule filled up right away and the people who do it are really dedicated. They like it because they get to see the garments up close.  Many of my volunteers have sewing experience or have a particular interest in historical dress. They will often call me over just to show me how a seam is finished or wax rhapsodic the construction of some pleating.


Evensong. Realness.

I am in a tiny church choir. We wear giant polyester blue robes and usually sing for a congregation of about 8. And it is the best.  Rehearsals usually involve irreverent religious jokes, sight-reading meltdowns, our director singing "Born Free" every time we have trouble with a downward fourth, and of course-- beautiful sacred music.

Last Sunday we sang a set of music by Nico Muhly and I am obsessed with it. You can hear a recording of it here. I don't really have a follow-up joke here. I just really love my choir.

The Deep, Cosmic, Pop-Culture Connection That I Share With My Roommate 

A few weeks ago, Olivia went out of town and left to my own devices. What started with a simple search for gifs to use on this blog, ended with me getting lost down a deep internet rabbit hole. You might not realize it, but searching for the perfect gif can be an arduous and confusing process. As one searches, one finds lots of things from unfamiliar shows and movies. And one thinks-- Who is this "Loki" character? What is this strange power enticing me to watch a movie that has fights and explosions in it?

By the time Olivia returned from the trip, I felt like I had to make an embarrassing confession. Barely able to look her in the eye, I started, "So...I somehow spent an entire evening watching TWO action movies on Netflix..."

"Wait. Stop," she said, "Does this in some way involve Tom Hiddleston? Because I feel like that is a thing we should be into."

And all was right with the world.

Freude Schöner Götterfunken!

This week I celebrated the anniversary of my return to Seattle. One year ago I arrived by train from New York and started my fantastic job at MOHAI. I still miss many things about NYC, but overall being in Seattle has been wonderful and I still feel blessed to be here doing what I'm doing.

In recognition of my happy, celebratory feelings, it was appropriate that on Friday I got to sing Beethoven's 9th symphony at Benaroya Hall. This summer I auditioned for the Seattle Choral Company, but had second thoughts about joining when the audition alone was way more intense than I expected (to give you an idea: I scored a zero on the French portion of the language exam). Instead, I decided to join their "festival chorus," a group of singers they call upon occasionally for larger choral works that require a bigger sound. This year, they needed extras for the choral finale of Beethoven's 9th. I've never sung it, but my German is ausgezeichnet compared to my French, and I already knew the basic tune. You probably do too.

I've listened to the full 9th Symphony before, but that was pretty much how I pictured it. Lots of fun German words, a big cheering crowd, and John Lennon on the harmonica. Well, I was in for a shock. Sure, the chorus gets several refrains of the "Ode to Joy" but there are a lot of other parts too, and for most of it the sopranos are at the top of our range, trying to belt out text and high As at the same time. Flip to about the 8:30 mark in the video below and you'll have an idea of how ridiculous it gets by the end:

The orchestra is sawing away as the choir tries to hastily screech out words like "umschlungen," "Sternenzelt," and "Götterfunken." I heard choir members joke that Beethoven must have hated singers, and after a few grueling rehearsals I was pretty convinced that his genius was best enjoyed as an audience member.

On the night of the concert, our director told us to "leave nothing on the table." The choral part comprises about 15 minutes of singing and it's over. Our rehearsals lasted for 2 hours and thirty minutes each, and so learning the piece felt like a marathon. But in performance it was more like a sprint, and so he was telling us to push toward the end and have nothing left after the last measure. It was stirring advice, and in performance the piece finally felt like the joyful thrill it was intended to be.

So happy anniversary Seattle! You fill me with Freude.