I never liked my graduate school’s choir conductor. He chose boring music. He covered his pomposity with lousy jokes and grating attempts at hipness. I didn’t meet his expectations of Pathetic Blind Man. My dad didn’t like him either.

Towards the end of the fall semester, the conductor announced with great fervor that the choir would be performing a piece by Ralph Vaughan Williams titled Dona Nobis Pacem. I had studied Vaughan Williams’ Mass in G Minor as part of a music theory project, and played various percussion parts in his Folk Song Suite. I liked his music, but didn’t want to suffer through another semester of this conductor’s dreary leadership.

I continued my studies and percussion-playing, shrugging off pleas from the conductor and others to rejoin the choir. In early March, though, someone finally persuaded me to at least listen to the piece. So I wandered into the library with my guide dog, received a recording of the work, plopped down onto a comfy couch after persuading the dog to remain on the floor, plugged the earphones into the proper jack, and started listening.

I was blown away despite the scratchiness of the record: the bombardment of brass and percussion as the choir howled about how war infests every nook and cranny of life; a baritone soloist who, among other things, crooned about how he kissed the lips of someone recently killed in battle; the reemergence of percussion and brass as the choir described a funeral procession honoring two veterans; the double cannon in the choir as they sang about the dangers of peace efforts going awry; and the reemergence of brass and percussion during the final building up and quieting down as the choir sang various Bible verses extolling the value of bravery and community aimed at building peace and glorifying God instead of killing each other.

I listened to the recording. I listened to it again. I listened to those parts of the recording that most astounded me. And I walked out of that library in a daze.

I didn’t much care that it was too late to rejoin the choir, as I viewed myself more as a percussionist-composer than a singer. Several days later, though, I found out that the conductor was looking for four or five percussionists as part of the orchestra that would be backing the choir. But he flatly turned down my offer to be one of those percussionists, even though they were in short supply.

I don’t know why he turned me down. He certainly knew that my dad and I disliked him. He might have been annoyed that I chose not to sing in his choir. But back then, I was certain that the only reason he wouldn’t work with me was because of my blindness.

Ensemble conductors have legitimate concerns about incorporating someone in their ensemble who can’t see their beating patterns. But I had performed as a percussionist in numerous bands and orchestras throughout high school and college, and had learned to sense a conductor’s cues by listening for group breathing and rustling clothes; looking for patterns in the way they conducted; and relying on intuition. I had even learned to switch parts with other percussionists when I didn’t trust my judgment.

I also learned to give those conductors who chose not to work with me the benefit of the doubt so long as the percussionists they used followed their hand gestures.

Several weeks later, I heard a recording of the concert featuring the Vaughan Williams piece, and the percussionists sounded more like competing battles than as a unifying force at peace with the conductor’s hand gestures.

I couldn’t help but snicker.

Now forty years later, I am happy to be part of a choir performing this piece about granting peace under a truly wonderful conductor. I am confident that the percussionists will be in sync with the orchestra, and strongly encourage those who live near or in Columbia, Missouri to attend the concert.

When: Saturday, November 3, at 7 Pm

Where: Missouri United Methodist Church, 204 South 9th Street in Columbia.

For those who can’t attend, below is a link to the best performance I could find online, unfortunately interrupted by really annoying random commercials.

Please let me know if you find this piece as awesome as I do.