Looking back on my days in the boy choir, especially those years spent as a soprano (ages 10 through 12), mostly consisted of gigs that were pretty pedestrian. We sang lots of funerals, weddings, graduations, and of course, every Sunday, all the holy days, and especially Christmas and Easter. I really enjoyed the Easter season where, for the six Sundays of Lent, we would sing relatively little – no big anthems or heavy duty musical works of any kind. Instead there was a fair amount of Gregorian Chant, but even by the time I joined the choir, a lot of the traditional Latin chants were no longer sung as part of the “new” vernacular Mass established by Vatican Two. But because Jim had a love for chant, we sang more of it in our services, especially over the four days that encompassed the culmination of the Lenten season – Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday. But with the Holy Saturday Service, known as the Easter Vigil, the music transitioned back from simple hymns and unison chants, to full blown polyphony, with lots of organ, bells, brass and, of course, great hymns with spectacular descants.

But even the services during the Easter season were not the highlights of my career with the choir, especially as a boy soprano. There were relatively few solos for us to sing in the Mass, but it was quite a different matter when a conductor or artistic director from another organization would contact Jim looking for a boy soloist, or a group of boys for a performance of an opera or other large musical presentation. These opportunities were relatively rare as the typical boy soprano is at the top of his game – i.e., the voice is at its absolute best for only a few short years, and especially just before puberty and the transition that every boy loathes, the time during which the voice is changing, and transitions from that of a boy, to that of a man. Once that change occurred, the solo opportunities all but ended, as groups could now rely on older well trained men. The “special” status we enjoyed as boy sopranos, thus with puberty, came to an often abrupt and somewhat cruel end.

However, at the age of twelve, I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities and, as a kid who could read musical notation fluently, I was attractive to directors looking for boys that could sing in large choral and orchestral works that incorporated a boy soprano part. So it transpired that one day, the conductor of the most prominent contemporary classical music ensemble in Boston, contacted Jim and asked to audition his best boys for the role of the boy soprano in the Boston premier of a new work by the eminent composer George Crumb. The work was his now renowned “Ancient Voices of Children”, a work that now is firmly established in the repertoire as one of the composer’s best compositions. I was one of three boys who auditioned and won the role of the boy soprano. I am sure that I did not have the best voice, for there was another kid that clearly had the most beautiful, flexible and pure voice, but his ability to read was not as good and, for this particular work, learning the notes quickly needed to be a priority. I sang the role with great success in the concert, with members of the Boston Symphony playing the instrumental parts, and with the wonderful Boston based soprano Jan Curtis, and the whole under the direction of the ensemble’s music director, Masetro Richard Pittman.

We performed in the Busch Reisinger Museum on the campus of Harvard University, to a packed house. I can remember being very nervous but, it helped that my first solo was sung from backstage, so I could focus on Jim, who was with me every step of the way. But the big moment was when I had to joint Ms. Curtis on stage for the second part of the work, where we both had to sing these crazy and difficult melodies directly into the soundboard of a grand piano. The effect was unlike anything that I had ever heard before and I remember being transported by the echoes of our voices coming back to us from the sounding board of the piano, which with the damper pedal was depressed by the pianist, created this haunting echo that resonated throughout the museum. My parents were there and they were very pleased and proud of me, although, I think that they found the music very strange indeed. And the critics were also impressed, although I did not get quick the level of praise that was given to the boy who sang the American premier and recorded the piece for Columbia Records. But it was my crowning accomplishment as a young musician, nonetheless. As a professional musician, I have often noted that I have been trying to replicate this first success ever since the that concert back in 1973. But if ignorance is bliss, I am glad that I didn’t know then much about how tough an assignment that was, as I realize it to be now.