June 6, 2024, Feast of St Norbert, 26th anniversary of my ordination.
Now where was I? Or better yet, where am I? This has been the period of intense travel and work. After the retreat at St. Martin’s, I drove up to Auburn, WA and spent the weekend with an old friend, former Korean Buddhist monk, current acupuncturist and Chinese herbal medicine doctor, Ian Sok, and also got to hang out with good friend Lisa Benner who was in Washington on personal time. Then I drove down to Vancouver, WA, right across the river from Portland, OR, stayed at John and Mary Pennington’s house while they were on vacation, and while there spent several days in the recording studio. Then I drove all the way down to San Luis Obispo, dropped off the mighty Prius at Monastery of the Risen Christ in the wee small hours of the morning last Saturday and flew here to Minnesota, where I am currently giving a retreat for the community of St John’s Abbey in Collegeville.
To be more specific, currently I am holed up in my room here in the cloister, having tested positive for Covid yesterday. I was feeling poorly, sore throat, temperature, aches, etc. and decided to test. Br. Ken, the infirmarian, administered and pronounced me positive, even though I thought the lines were very faint. (We did it twice to confirm.) I had already given four out of eight conferences; alas the remaining four will be all on Zoom, while the brothers are in the Chapter House just 100 yards away down the cloister walk around the corner from my room. It was going so well! I was so well prepared for this retreat. I was also singing Psallitè antiphons with them before each session with they and I were both enjoying greatly, since this is the place that they were invented. That does not work so well over Zoom, though I am going to try to pull one off tomorrow for the last conference. They are being rather strict with me––or at least Br Ken is. I was slipping out wearing a mask when the monks were at prayer to get tea and some food, but he told me that they would prefer I not leave quarters. So, I am totally at the mercy of my brothers. I assume they will not let me starve (or go un-caffeinated). Fr. Abbot Doug himself has brought me soup the last two days. I’m sorry not to have the one-on-one time with the monks; I was enjoying the interactions at table and in the corridors, immensely, as well as celebrating liturgy with them, even more than I thought I would. Ah well…
Now to backtrack… The time giving the retreat at St Martin’s was really fine; the monks were very warm and welcoming, and they seemed to really appreciate the retreat conferences. Abbot Marian and I had a couple of nice visits, and he was trying to load me down with all kinds of goodies before I drove off, including a little ice chest. I have learned about Vietnamese people that it is better to just accept than to argue.
My time with Dr. Ian Sok up in Auburn was very good. We were young monks together. He had been sent over to America by his monastery in Korea to found a Zen center in Hayward, and he happened upon New Camaldoli, I think brought down there by a friend, and if I recall correctly we met because I was working in the bookstore. He walked in wearing his grey monastic habit––not really robes, more like pantaloons and a jacket, and we got to talking and became fast friends. We had a lot of interaction even up until my Santa Cruz years, but he went back to his monastery in Korea in 2005 for a three-year retreat at the end of which he, as they say in Buddhism, “gave back his vows” to his teacher, left the monastic life and moved to Seattle where he established himself as an acupuncturist and Chinese medicine practitioner. (He had gotten his master’s degree in that while in California.) We last spoke in 2008, I believe, just before he moved up north. I somehow still had his mobile number and when I found out how close I was going to be to Seattle I texted him and lo and behold we were back in touch. After a very few pleasantries I started receiving long text messages like this:
What do you think about Monophysitism, Dyophysitism of the Chalcedonian creed, or Miaphysitism of the Eastern Orthodox Church? I have been pondering deeply on this since my morning prayer until now. This issue is also very important among Buddhist scholars throughout the centuries and in many schools of Buddhist sects. Zen seems to lean more towards Miaphysitism, while Amita faith is closer to dyophysitism.
At the same time, how we look at new religions close to Monophysitism, for example, Universalist Unitarian, Quaker, Shakers, Jehovah's Witnesses, etc. I do respect whatever opinions you have on Monophysitism, Dyophysitism, and Miaphysitism. I just want to hear your own opinion on this subject. I also understand that this argument is ongoing among spiritual practitioners in centuries.
And the whole weekend was pretty much like that too. He had gotten his Master’s in Western
and Eastern philosophy in Seoul and is very interested in Christianity, and I would even say he is very devoted to Jesus, does his chanting the Amida Buddha every morning and then reads the Bible. He asks some of the most penetrating questions, cutting right through the trivia. It was so refreshing, consoling to talk about our real beliefs about Absolute Reality with each other and not have to worry about being too speculative or scandalizing someone with your doubts or shocking someone with a new way of expressing ancient fundamental truths. He treated me to several great meals, an afternoon in a spa and a lovely hike behind Mount Ranier.
As I mentioned, Lisa was in town on vacation and we drove up to meet her in Seattle, the three of us going to Sunday Mass at St. Joseph’s Church, the Jesuit parish on Capitol Hill, a very tony beautiful neighborhood. It was a very well planned and executed liturgy in a wonderful space. (Ian was agog at the colors and images from all the stained-glass windows.) It included fine music, mostly in the popular style, led by a musician I had met before at the Composers’ Forum in St. Louis years ago, Laura Ash, with a fine ensemble. There were also liturgical dancers who led the procession in with streamers and a dove hung from a pole, and sign language for the deaf that was taught to everyone for the responsorial psalm, so it became a kind of dance from the pews too. This is the parish that Lisa had attended when she lived up there and she was very proud to share it with us, as she should be. Afterward we asked Ian what he thought of the whole thing, and he said he loved it. He felt like a little kid and he wanted to get up and dance too. Then Lisa led us to a fine Thai restaurant, and then a long leisurely stroll through the famous Volunteer Park (which abuts the cemetery where Bruce Lee and his son are buried). A really pleasant day with wonderful people. After that I drove down to Vancouver.
Not only did I have John and Mary’s place to myself for the first week (they were in Iceland with Mary’s elderly parents), I also had absolutely nothing to do for the first two days I was there, and that was pure bliss. I had gotten a month-long membership for LA Fitness on my way up (which I was also able to slip out and use every early morning from St Martin’s) and so I had a great couple of days getting myself ready for the studio and catching up on exercise and solitude and silence.
Friday, Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
At the recommendation of the monks, I got Dr. John Clark back in California to call in a prescription for Paxlovid. Good Br. Ken went and fetched it for me (along with a tin of salted mixed nuts, which I was craving) and I started it last night. It doesn’t cure Covid, but it is supposed to protect against more severe illness. Many people first report feeling worse after taking it, and I did have a weird night, not sure if that’s why. They warn about all kinds of possible side-effects but the only one I seem to have is a strange medicinal taste in my mouth. I have lost my sense of smell this time I realized this morning. We’re going to decide tomorrow whether I go to Maplewood and do the retreat via Zoom from the sisters’ place itself or stay here and do it via Zoom. Almost doesn’t matter, but it does feel a little awkward being here at St. John’s and not being here at the same time. And having to depend on someone to bring me food. They are pretty serious about me keeping quarantine. Don’t know for how long. I think I am on the mend.
So, the week in the studio in Portland was very good. I have to say after my two days getting everything ready and organized, I was like a little kid ready for the first day of school. It feels like so long since I have been able to spend quality time in the “magic kingdom.” Thinking back, in the Santa Cruz years I was almost always in the studio working on something and I think I did over a dozen albums on my own or collaboratively: John and I finished “Awakening” and then did “Compassionate and Wise,” I sang on and produced four CDs with the Collegeville Composers Group (Psallitè), I did “Lord Open My Lips” and “Awake at Last,” liturgical music for OCP, Gitanjali and I did “Hare Yeshu” and “The Ground We Share”, plus I did “My Soul’s Companion” and the guitar instrumental album “ecstasis.” Oh yeah, and somewhere in there I did a meditation collection with Laurence Freeman called “Wait My Soul in Silence.” But the month in Los Altos and that week in Portland both confirmed for me that at least the way I work I can’t work on an album and do something else at the same time. I need the leisure to dance around it, and really focus psychologically. That’s why I didn’t accomplish any recording of lasting value during the years as prior at the Hermitage.
I was working at Thelma’s (full name “Dead Aunt Thelma’s”) where I had worked several times before, one of my all-time favorite studios. I did all of “As One Unknown” there back in 1999, my first album for OCP. There is a new young manager named Gus, and he and I hit it off right away. He’s a graduate of Berklee School of Music in Boston, and we figured out that he crossed over with Devin’s years there, though they don’t know each other. We bonded over guitars (he’s the only person I know who owned a Collings, the exact model that I have, though he just sold his) and obsession with the production Steely Dan albums. I’m working on two things simultaneously. The most important one is a new Animas Ensemble album, my project with John Pennington. We haven’t done anything together since Compassionate and Wise in 2007 (?), though he did play a lot on my solo CD “My Soul’s Companion.” I’ve written most of the pieces for this one and had prepared all my reference guitar and vocals in Los Altos in April. John has a few pieces to add and is going to lay down his tracks and I will finish them remotely. We’ve been sending tracks and lead sheets back and forth across the ether for months.
The second thing I am working on is my long-awaited Christmas album (not sure who is waiting for it but me!), for which I had also laid down my guitar tracks as well. I started a version of that album back in 2012 but was never able to get back to it. We tried again in 2016 to do oboe and ‘cello tracks but that was a disaster. The first day I worked with a wonderful ‘cellist named Marilyn from Brazil. John thankfully arranged for all these studio musicians through his connections as executive producer now for OCP, and he has high standards and exquisite taste. I found that I had to adjust my mentality though. I was so relaxed walking in the studio that first day after two days on my own humming to myself and exercising and working at my own pace and feeling ever so leisurely. John had told me I had Marilyn from 1 to 3, but I was thinking that if we go over time a little, I didn’t mind paying a little more for her and the studio as long as we finally get quality tracks. And she was a great player, so expressive and easy to work with. However, at 3:00 she was on her way out the door and on to the next thing! And Gus had an engagement and had to leave by 3:30, so I was somewhat deflated on my first big day back in the studio.
Not to worry… the next day I was for many relaxed hours with the masterful Rick Modlin on piano. He was just making these songs come alive. I realize that we have been playing together since 1999, 25 years! And I am honored that for all he is in demand he really seems to like making music with me too. I told him recently that I think of him as much a part of the Animas Ensemble as John and me. I feel the same way about the ‘cellist Joe Hebert who I hope to work with back in CA in July. I thought about all three of them, especially John, as I was writing these pieces and recording my parts, and what a thrill to hear them bring the songs to life. Then Friday that week I had Marilyn again and a fine oboe player named Alan. That day we did work on the Christmas music. That was also a bit of a thrill, especially after the disastrous sessions in 2016. I had re-recorded my guitar parts, making them as clean and in-time as possible, and checked my arrangements––but it’s all in your head until you hear it on the actual instruments and not just on my tinny little computer playing it back to me. That is one of the marvels of being a composer: you have some sounds in your imagination, you make little dots and squiggly lines on a piece of paper, you put that piece of paper in front of somebody else––and they make sounds that sound even better than what you heard in your head. And I do love love love that combination: oboe, ‘cello and guitar with the addition of percussion, kind of medieval with a bit of an Mideastern flair. Anyway, I was thrilled with how that turned out, and I have got the “sound” for the Christmas album now and hope that I might actually finish it one day!
John and Mary go home Saturday night, and John and I had an intense workday in his home studio on Monday (Memorial Day), finally going through all the pieces face-to-face instead of over email. And then we were in the studio together on Tuesday. The first thing we did was actually with Rick again on a piece called “We Are Waiting for Peace to Break Out.” It’s a poem I have been carrying around for maybe 15 years or so from a collection called “Poets Against the War” edited by the late Sam Hamill (who by the way did my favorite translation of the Tao te Ching for Shambala). The inspiration for this piece was actually the rather controversial spoken word piece “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” by Gil Scot Heron, which, to my surprise, none of them had ever heard of, not Rick not John, not even Gus! I turned the first lines of the poems into a refrain, and then divided the rest of the poem up into four verses that I started speaking right off of the sung refrain. But I wanted the whole thing to be improvised as well, John and Rick’s part. It might have been a little frustrating for both of them at first because no one knew when to come in or out or when to go back to the refrain, but they soon caught the spirit of it and the more we did it the more we listened to each other. I told John, “All the music we do is important, but this piece feels really important” as Benjamin Netanyahu and Hamas face off while the innocent civilians continue to die in Rafah, as Vladmir Putin continues his assault on Ukraine, and as Donald Trump and his allies all but overtly threaten violence if things don’t go their way. Meanwhile, “We are waiting for peace to break out. We are waiting for flowers to bloom. We are waiting for the moon to come / from behind the black clouds of war.” It turned out great. I was remembering, I think it was “Instant Karma,” John Lennon had the idea, went in the studio one night and had 45s on the street the next morning. Never have a felt so strongly that I wanted a piece of music I had written to get out there.
I’ll post this much a get back to the rest later. Time for Covid nap. Unfortunately, my temperature is back up to 99. Looks like I’ll be confined to quarters for a little while more… Oh well, I was raised in the hermit tradition, and it’s a lovely quiet comfortable room.
