dippy music

Now that it's fall, by month if not by temperature, church has picked up again. I stopped going to church in high school, but I heard rumors of this fabulous new choir director last year and started showing up in the spring. He's even better than the rumors - he's super musical, boundlessly energetic, and good at explaining what he wants. You'd think this would be a given in a choir director, but not the case. So I joined up, and we did a bunch of really challenging music. The choir is small, but fierce. Church is about a 5-minute walk from home, and I loved having the regular singing opportunity and all that sightreading practice.

Then this summer we sent him to a Unitarian music conference, and I'm afraid now all we're going to sing is, in the words of someone else, "dippy Unitarian music." It's all happy and positive and life-affirming and whatever. It's also very, very pretty and reasonably easy.

But I want old music! Difficult music! Obscure composers of the Spanish Renaissance! Timeless beauty!

Ah well. Maybe he's easing the congregation into the fall before he whaps them with some Sibelius. In the meantime, you can find me in church two Sundays a month singing about truth and respect and whatnot.