Theater Fans Manila : Dulaang UP's KUNG PAANO NANALO SA KARERA SI ROSANG TABA

 UNI REVIEW: Dulaang UP’s ‘Kung Paano Nanalo sa Karera si Rosang Taba’ (theaterfansmanila.com)

Theatrical Review: Tanghalang Ateneo's TARTUFFE by Moliere, translated by Ronaldo Tinio

I had an exciting moment as I checked in with security at Ateneo's Gate 3, where guards verify our names and ID's against the expected visitor list for the day. (They're super strict, and at one point they couldn't find my name! I was terrified that I wouldn't be allowed to enter, thankfully they double checked and found it after a few scary minutes. Then again, in these difficult times, one can only be grateful for the added security measure.)

"Reason for visit?"

"To watch the play."

"Which one?"

Yes there were TWO plays open to the public this weekend! And since I, like most Filipinos, am pinching pesos and counting every centavo, I decided to watch the one that seemed to be more relevant and worth the 2 hour commute up North: Tanghalang Ateneo's staging of Rolando Tinio's translation of Moliere's TARTUFFE. The ticket price was very student-and-teacher-friendly, as opposed to the other musical whose prices are truly only for the top 1%.

I was dying of curiosity to find out if a 359 year old French play written in the time of the Ancien Régime could speak to contemporary Filipinos.

Well no wonder Louis XIV had it suppressed (under pressure by the Catholic Church) when it was first staged in 1664! Another interesting tidbit is that Tartuffe, the bad guy, was originally meant to be a Jesuit, but the part was rewritten, the role transformed so he could be playing any religious hypocrite, of whatever religious denomination.

We all know a Tartuffe in our lives. Whether he is that uncle who is a leader of that bible study group, and yet keeps a mistress on the side... or perhaps the saintly aunt who hears daily mass yet mistreats her staff at home... Tartuffe is Hypocrite Extraordinaire who enchants the heads of a wealthy family to the point that he is able to steal their land and house. This SHOULD be awfully familiar to Filipinos today.

This wealthy family is also lampooned as objects of ridicule, with their maid being the crowd favorite as she was the only one who made sense amongst all the caricatures.

While Moliere, himself under royal patronage, was careful not to explicitly write anything against the King in the script, Ron Capinding's direction of the Tinio translation does not share this kid glove approach. Tinio himself played the titular role in 1980 at the CCP Little Theater.

(Image courtesy of the website of the National Artist's son! https://rolandotinio.tumblr.com/post/17153013988/front-page-of-the-playbill-of-teatro-pilipinos )

This is the underlying difference between silently reading the text and seeing it performed onstage. What seems to be innocent praise of a just and noble ruler on the page turns out to be something else entirely, when delivered with a certain tone, eyes glaring with a certain look.

The props and set were simply made: mere cardboard boxes, a few dabs of paint on wood and makeshift "mirrors" that sometimes reveal the hidden reality of characters within. The costumes used plastic wrap, cravats and capes and all! Which I thought was GENIUS, as it could also reference how "plastic" and "fake" hypocrites are. 

The true MVP of the production is the incredible live guitar playing of Christian John L. Mercader, whose skill was such that I was in danger of listening to his strumming instead of the beautiful Filipino rolling from the mouths of the "Arnean" cast, a few of whom were obviously raised with English as their mother tongue. But this made their valiant effort all the more heartwarming to witness. And I was reminded once again of the beauty of our language. In Tinio's translation, Filipino isn't the language of the streets. Nay, we hear the tongues of ancient poets to rival Shakespeare in their genius. Filipino in verse is practically music, and it was a rare treat indeed to be in the audience for a bravura performance by students! 

This is really a throwback to what live theater is all about. No mikes. No fancy set, no extra money spent on clothes. This is a play that can be toured around the country, performed anywhere. This is, I think, the backbone of theater in our country. We need more of this brand of live performance. Bravo to Tanghalang Ateneo! 

Is it a spoiler to say that there are two endings in the play? Watch it to find out both alternative endings! They run until April 1!

Concert Review: METAMORPHOSIS with Dr. Beverly Shangkuan-Cheng and the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra

 

Last night, history was made. Glass ceilings were shattered. Old myths perpetuated by a male-dominated profession proven rubbish.

Dr. Beverly Shangkuan-Cheng, a home grown musical prodigy turned choral conductor extraordinaire after earning degrees from UP, Yale and the University of Michigan, conducted a philharmonic orchestra for the first time and made them sound better than they ever have.

This reviewer has caught several Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra performances over the years, and it was only last night that the conductor proved equal to the task of commanding all those egos and talents, making a sold-out show that will go down in history, for more ways than one.

(Then again, when one remembers that most instruments strive to sound like human voices, and that there was a time composers didn't even indicate parts if they were meant for a voice or an instrument, the success of a choral director in handling an orchestra shouldn't come as a surprise.)

Concertgoers know that the performance itself is merely the tip of the iceberg when it comes to determining a conductor's skill. Most of the concert's success is determined in rehearsal, and this being the Philippines, the stressed conductors work with very limited hours indeed.

Having experienced Beverly's masterful rehearsal technique in a previous life, I can attest to how her exactness and efficiency in determining the most essential parts that need to be cleaned in practice did indeed come out gloriously on the night itself. This demonstrates her complete mastery of the scores, which one would think is a given, but few conductors achieve. Beverly knows what measures make or break a piece, and it came out during the show.

Take the 2nd movement of Beethoven's 7th, something so famous, audience members can hum along.

With Beverly's guidance, she coaxed new depths of expressivity, new lines and phrases that made me hear a classic as if for the first time.

The repertoire choice is bold and novel, the sight of which prompted this audience member to buy tickets via Ticketworld immediately upon reading that she showcased three Filipina composers!

Marie Jocelyn Maril's very academic PYAGSAWITAN "WEDDING AND HARVEST" opened the evening with additional traditional Filipino instruments like the kulintang and the dabakan joining the orchestra, merging East and West (which is exactly what Beverly personifies) in a piece that called for nontraditional ways of playing string instruments, treating them almost like percussive instruments at times, as well as blending the musical forces on hand in a glorious display of interlocking melodies and rhythms. It's always a brave move to include a "composition major" piece meant for the odd intellectual in the audience, and Beverly rightly began with this one as it certainly demanded all of our focus, though this always risks alienating the majority.

Lucrecia Kasilag's FESTIVAL was naturally a joyful, noisy affair with eruptions of "Uy!" shouted by the instrumentalists. Melodious and sparkling, it was too bad it was extremely short! Thankfully it was played twice, as the audience clapped so long in the end, they played it as an encore, too.

The hidden gem that reminded me of the joy of live concerts is Denise Santos' THE LIGHT OF EXTREME DARKNESS. She previously worked with Hans Zimmer's studio and the great maestro's influence could be heard in the haunting five note motif, playing over and over again with added layers building up to a sonorous intensity that, to quote my companion, "made my soul leave my body." THIS is why we go to concerts! THIS is what Spotify cannot even approximate. We discover new favorites, and I hope Denise Santos' work is included in more programs locally because THAT WAS SERIOUSLY ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL EXPERIENCES OF MY LIFE!! To think that it was meant to be "existential and philosophically musings throughout the pandemic."

Ralph Vaughan Williams' SERENADE TO MUSIC came next, with sixteen of the brightest stars in the classical vocal scene gracing the stage without microphones. This audience member was moved by the degree of trust Beverly placed in the singers, choosing them to be placed foremost, sacrificing her ability to cue them so they could be more clearly heard. Then again, when one realizes who's singing, one recognizes that the complete faith of the conductor in these particular singers is justified. Of these sixteen, soprano Bianca Lopez-Aguila and tenor Ervin Lumauag stood out last night for the power and beauty of their tones, being heard two storeys above the stage, as all vocalists alternated lines from Shakespeare's HOW SWEET THE MOONLIGHT. This marks the second time I have heard this text set to music, as Jocelyn Pook also wrote a song wonderfully interpreted by Andreas Scholl. Having only heard a solo interpretation, I was more deeply moved by the ensemble singing in unison at times, then making way to let their different vocal gifts shimmer through the air.

Surprisingly, the Beethoven was a mixed bag. The first movement seemed a bit weighty, as if there had been lack of rehearsal or sense of ensemble. But the second was glorious. Ah! The second movement! I have no words. The third and fourth movements were expertly led, with Beverly at times seeming to jump in that flaming red gown that made her every gesture a joy to behold.

Forget TAR and Cate Blanchett. What is the use of a fictional female conductor when we have the real thing with us?

The CCP should know that they have a gem already in Philippine shores. They have been auditioning several foreign composers these past months, and honestly I have to ask... why? When we have a glorious conductor like Beverly already here?!?!!?

Sometimes, the best man for the job is... a woman.

Perhaps my favorite memory from last night was witnessing a little boy happily waving his arms, imitating the female conductor onstage, moved by the beautiful sound of Beethoven.

Perhaps last night, a musical destiny has been forged. And perhaps, musical history.

Book Review: HAVEN by Emma Donoghue

Haven by Emma Donoghue
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

"Monkish life is one long war against the devil. And when dozens of men live together…well, where better for wolves to hide than in a great flock of sheep?"

What is it about Emma Donoghue that makes her novels so unforgettable?

Two novels by her were among the highlights of my pandemic reading, with HAVEN now being the third in a trinity, and THE PULL OF THE STARS (about "The Rebel Doctor" who fought to save lives in 1918's Spanish flu outbreak, a.k.a. the pandemic before this one) and THE WONDER (recently turned into a film starring Florence Pugh as the nurse who dared to respect human life above religiosity) making me fans of her writing.

Sparse and efficient, Donoghue's characters (usually drawn from real life) tend to fight the Ultimate Battle all from very confined spaces: a hospital room, a sickbed, and now, one island made famous by the Star Wars films as Luke Skywalker's hideout: Skellig Michael.

Fresh from a pandemic ourselves, we are intimate with our own dramas of the soul, and know that the size of the stage does not determine the scale of the war.

The first 80% of the book was all set up for the last 20%, which shall go down in my memory as among the most stressful reading experiences of my life! Donoghue skillfully sets us up for a good dose of real life horror. It starts benignly enough.

Three monks leave their monastery in 7th century Ireland because life had grown too soft, the monks too fat and worldly, the hours passing by too pleasantly for their taste. They set out for a brave new world, determined to build a new house of holy men in the most deserted island they could find like the saints of old, there to copy out holy writ that would outlast them.

Things go wrong. Little ones at first, but then a drop becomes a boulder and suddenly what seemed like a holy dream that must come from God Himself becomes a madman's scheme, borne out of "the devilish pride of a man fonder of his own judgement than God’s."

Donoghue fans will remember that this is a common theme in her previous works: the tension between Science and plain common sense, and blind fanaticism.

Towards the end, as Donoghue builds up to a conclusion I shall not soon forget, one of the monks cries out "I’m not your man, but Christ’s!" to stunning effect, I found myself applauding.

The last two chapters are so exciting, you'd better stop cooking or drop any pretense at exercising, and just sit down and enjoy the ride. If only the first 80% were similarly riveting!

The book has an added dimension of pleading for the cause of acceptance of more than the two usual genders, which is also another theme present in THE PULL OF THE STARS.

In 2023 when we still have fanatics everywhere, with various causes (political or medical), this book set in the medieval ages still describes a very contemporary problem; proof that time goes on, but human nature doesn't.

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Book Review: BETTER LIVING THROUGH CRITICISM by A.O. Scott

Better Living Through Criticism: How to Think About Art, Pleasure, Beauty, and Truth by A.O. Scott
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

"That everyone is a critic means, or should mean, that we are each of us capable of thinking against our own prejudices, of balancing skepticism with open-mindedness, of sharpening our dulled and glutted senses and battling the intellectual inertia that surrounds us. We need to put our remarkable minds to use and to pay our own experience the honor of taking it seriously."

I've been thinking a lot lately about my hobby, which is writing a few paragraphs about what I read, or what I've seen, and immortalizing them forever in my own small space in the internet. I used to think it was just an online scrapbook of sorts, mainly for an audience of one.

Lately I've come to realize that it could mean so much more, but also there comes the self-doubt... why do we put ANYTHING out on social media?

New York Times film critic A.O. Scott has written an entire book that pays tribute to his profession and those that came before him, and yet manages to also be a polemic against his naysayers, couched in what seems to be polite and philosophically neutral language. It was a bit of a shock for this reader to find that he would alternate in tone from serious, near-academic writing in some chapters, to a tongue-in-cheek interview in the next one. He would interview himself! LOL.

Still, for its imperfections, there is much wisdom to be gleaned from one who loves his craft passionately, and thinks of it in the most ideal way possible. We are all critics, Scott says. It's just that some folks spend more time and effort on making sure their critical thoughts reach more than just their family and friends.

Scott also describes the current art world and the role of a professional critic. In an era of professional hype creators and marketing campaigns, he writes that an objective voice is necessary in order to help the truly great become recognized, because if everyone is awesome, then no one is.

"How are you supposed to choose, in the face of this abundance? What will guide your choices? There are really only two options: marketers, whose job is to sell—that is, to spin, to hype, to lie—and critics, whose job is to tell the truth."

Why should we even care about art, when there are bigger problems? This was the question I think Scott failed to answer, taking it for granted that anyone picking up his book would already care so much about film and music and theatre and books.

I think we ought to care about art the way we should care about politics, about our transportation system, the systemic moral corruption everywhere. Art reminds us of the best that humans can be, even when it chooses to highlight the worst. And the fact that I'm reflecting so much about it is already a point in favor of Scott's book.

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Theatrical Review: GMG Productions' THE SOUND OF MUSIC by Rodgers and Hammerstein

Staging THE SOUND OF MUSIC (TSOM) seems like a good economic decision in a world reeling from pandemic financial (and personal) loss. Then again, it's a gamble of another kind as well. Firstly, will people go and see the show, when there's the amazing Julie Andrews 1965 film version readily available on YouTube? And supposing they ARE willing to shell out for the whole lovely experience of a night at the Samsung Performing Arts Center (which is so new, the art work, the ceilings, heck even the TOILETS seem to shine), then there is the price of fame to consider: There is an element of danger in performing something that most audience members will know by heart already. Can one even hope to meet great expectations?

And then there's the extra price of entry. Local theater fans always face a quandary when faced with an international touring act: is it worth shelling out extra money for? Previous shows have been judged harshly,  as these lines from a familiar refrain go: "Oh well the technical aspect, the props, the lighting, were great. The acting and singing? So-so. * Insert name of local musical theater talent * would have done so much better." 

This audience member is happy to sing ALLELUIA along with the nuns of Nonnburg, as last night's gala performance certainly blew all of our fears away! YES it IS worth the ticket price, as what TSOM has is that rare balance of musical, acting and technical excellence that rarely graces local stages!

TSOM rises and falls with its two female stars: Maria and the Mother Abbess. Jill-Christine Wiley as the lovely nun-to-be was a revelation! A petite machine so scary in her mastery of her instrument, she produces perfect sounds that seem like they were made in a studio recording! This was especially highlighted when she sang arguably the most vocally challenging song in the musical, The Lonely Goatherd (one of many delightful cases of the song in the musical NOT performed in the expected scene), taking it in a slower tempo that made audiences appreciate all the more the vocal polyphony on display, with a soaring descant that would make Julie Andrews proud!

I had seen an early preview video of Lauren Kidwell singing the immortal Climb Every Mountain, and actually came in scared that the artistic choice to embrace a more "pop" style would be the order of the evening. And so I was extremely grateful to witness the incredible soprano embrace the more classical / Golden Age performance practice style on performance night itself! For sure mine weren't the only eyes weeping happy tears, for Kidwell's powerful voice literally brought the curtain down and cut deep into all our hearts! It's unfair but unavoidable to compare everything to the movie version, but especially for this show ender song, it's better than in the movie!

Not all stars shine equally bright, and Trevor Martin's Captain Von Trapp (did you know that his first name was Georg?!) certainly paled beside his costars during the first act. Being a classically trained baritone, Martin's acting seemed to belong to the less nuanced/ more stylized acting school of opera, and seemed wooden and even inauthentic at times. My seatmates and I sent up prayers to the Heavens during intermission for the upcoming Edelweiss, and either God heard our prayers or Martin made vocal adjustments in the second act, because we're happy to report that his singing (accompanying himself on guitar) did justice to that crowd favorite. This audience member also suspects that Martin (like all classical singers), has a huge voice that does not lend itself well to artificial sound amplification (i.e. lapel mikes), and so the vibrato that was honed to be heard by audience three storeys up, without mikes, sounded "forced" when made to seem smaller. Oh, physics!

Another singer worth mentioning is the beautiful Karylle Tatlonghari. Being one of only two Filipino singer/actors in the production (the other being Markki Stroem as Rolf, who made National Socialism look awfully appealing LOL), it was a delight for us to discover that her Elsa had more songs than in the movie! It was my first time to hear her sing live, and I was struck by the beauty of her tones. Truly, Filipinos CAN sing! What we can have more of is the discipline of practicing technical aspects for thousands of hours, as the rest of the cast have done (which is only to be expected from a touring cast). And this is what this audience member hopes Karylle can improve on: spitting out her consonants more so that she would be more clearly understood in songs like How Can Love Survive, and being more consistent with what singers call "placement," so the dramatic shifts from high to low registers would sound a lot smoother. This is something that only practice can accomplish, and this reviewer looks forward to future performances of hers, as the timbre of her voice is truly lovely!

I was happily gazing around the audience, struck by how many members of the press brought their moms, or their sisters and brothers. I loved seeing all the happy families with the children in their Sunday best, yawning at the end for staying awake way past their bedtime for a treat to remember. Truly, TSOM is a FAMILY affair, and has a lot to offer even for the most jaded audience member. I was reminded of the universality of this musical, and count myself fortunate to have glimpsed its secret to immortality last night. One leaves TSOM with hearts lighter, with singing inside our souls. If that family could escape the most evil and efficient political party by climbing the mountains, then so can we climb the mountains in our own lives.

On a more personal note, I was struck anew by the sound of silence in my own life, when I was reminded why Captain Von Trapp forbade his children from singing at the start. It was borne out of mourning. And so I'm very thankful to the show for championing the cause of singing through war, through pain and shadow! And when we make music, we hope we make such tones as would make our dearly departed smile up in Heaven.

Thank you so much to the angels who gave me a ticket!

Book Review: WOMAN RUNNING IN THE MOUNTAINS by Yūko Tsushima

Woman Running in the Mountains by Yūko Tsushima
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

"It was not that she was running away. She just wanted to be tough and free to move."
Finished this book on a day I went for a fun run. I have to say, I enjoyed the run more than the novel. 😄 But I wanted to read a book written by Osamu Dazai's daughter.

The book brought me painfully inside the body and mind of a single mother in 1980's Japan, a time when less than 1 percent of children are born illegitimate. Facing hatred at every turn, including her own family, it details how she defiantly finds joy in independence, in coffee shops, in parks and forests and gardens, rebelling against those who thought she deserved only misery.

Running is difficult at my age and weight, but when I do run, it feels like flying.

The breeze at one's back, the air filling up one's lungs give a sense of wellbeing to be found nowhere else. It's as if each breath is inhaling life.

There's a special magic in running with a crowd, too. The camaraderie of crazy folks who wake up at 2 or 3 am on a Sunday, pounding away at the asphalt.

For one day, we know, our running days will be over. We know not when that day will come, but for now, let's run and embrace the freedom it offers.

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Theatrical Review: PETA's WALANG ARAY by Rody Vera

I am a teacher by trade, preserver of tradition. Conservative by nature, the purist in me had initial misgivings when I first heard about PETA’s comeback to live theater.

Is it still “Walang Sugat” if it doesn’t have “Bayan Ko” in the original melody? 

That’s the question that I’ve been pondering ever since I watched PETA’s gloriously upbeat WALANG ARAY, Rody Vera’s transformation of the classic Severino Reyes zarzuela into a “modern-day musical.” And it most certainly lived up to its advertising.

Modern? Yes it was. It’s so modern, this audience member in her mid-thirties is ashamed to admit that perhaps she wasn’t the target age group, as quite a few Tiktok references and current slang words flew past her head (and if the comparative silence of the older audience members in certain beats are any indicator). The show risked alienating those in the audience who do not live on Facebook or Twitter, and don’t know Sheesh! from shucks.

Then again, judging by the loud appreciative hoots and screams of laughter elicited from the student and yuppie crowd, perhaps this is only to be expected from the artistic decision to make something wholly new. 

Taking nothing from the original zarzuela except the plot and reworded versions of lyrics from the original songs, Vince Lim wrote all new songs that one could easily imagine blaring out from Kuya Grab’s speakers or that newly opened stall in a mall. Hip and fresh, it was an unforgettable experience hearing them sung live by the incredibly talented cast, harmonizing effortlessly on top of jaw-dropping dance choreography by no less than our leading man for the night (talk about multi-tasking!), Gio Gahol. His leading lady, Marynor Madamesila, was pitch perfect as well, making this audience member very happy. How can one critique perfection, when one encounters it very rarely in a live performance?

The effect on this viewer was to stun her into appreciative silence, marveling at the sheer effort, the hundreds of rehearsal hours it must have taken to get the ensemble to such a high level of artistic excellence. Think High School Musical but with the added edge of live performance, with no cuts, no re-shoots. Now let us set Troy and Gabriela… I mean, Tenyong and Julia… in Intramuros, spouting witticisms that seem to be fresh from social media influencers in every phrase. 

There’s simply no letting up all throughout the 2.5 hours of running time, and to be frank, it got exhausting at the end! It became a case of “too much of a good thing.” There were no allowances for the slightest dip in energy onstage, the speed of the lines’ delivery made sure of that. This audience member would have appreciated even a few moments of “thinking time,” to fully absorb and digest the glories of Ian Segarra’s skillful directing (more famously known for being the acting coach of GMA's hit teleserye "Maria Clara at Ibarra").

This audience member felt that there were a few songs that could have been removed totally from the final output, as they seemed to serve no purpose other than to highlight the talented ensemble’s triple threat powers. While some Gen Z folks might say “dasurv,” one can argue that a shorter, more taut show - shaved off these songs that do not propel the narrative - might make even more of an impact than the current show already did.

While purists might inwardly quake at the thought of touching a classic like "Walang Sugat," I can assure them that Rody Vera’s WALANG ARAY is an entirely different animal.

Sinful sacrilege, or respectful homage? I am reminded of a quote from Michael Dobson, the Director of the Shakespeare Institute. While he was speaking about Shakespeare adaptations, the same thing applies to Severino Reyes’ immortal beloved: “Tradition is not the worship of ashes; it is the cherishing of the flame.”

Thank you, PETA, for keeping this flame fiercely burning! And thank you to the generous soul who gave me a ticket to a night at the theatre not to be forgotten! 

Get your tickets to this must-see show now! There are 3 different pairs for the lead roles, and this audience member has heard that when one watches it with a different cast, it’s practically a different show! But of course, I’m partial to Gio and Mnor!

Book Review: MY FATHER'S HOUSE by Joseph O' Connor

My Father's House by Joseph O'Connor
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

"I have come to see that neutrality is the most extremist stance of all; without it, no tyranny can flourish."

When we were mere high school students, my sister and I read an amazing novel, THE STAR OF THE SEA, and although it has been decades I still remember the images, and above all, the magical lilt in the language of the author, Joseph O'Connor, and we swore that we would track down his other books. We read his REDEMPTION FALLS in college, and were similarly mesmerized.

Life and other favorite authors interfered, and so this is sadly only my third O'Connor (his latest), but what joy to discover that the decades have not touched the literary skill of the brother of Sinead O'Connor!

I read it without knowing anything other than it was the latest book by an old favorite, but to my surprise, the plot sounded familiar. It turns out I had seen half of a Gregory Peck / Christopher Plummer film (THE SCARLET AND THE BLACK) about the very same (and very real) heroic Irish priest, Monsignor Hugh O’Flaherty... the same protagonist in the novel!

"During the nine-month occupation of Rome, eighteen hundred Roman Jews were deported to the death camps. Fewer than twenty returned."

In World War II, Pope Pius XII sought to remain neutral. (How short this sentence, and yet there is so much to unpack! Morally speaking, to remain neutral in a time of great evil, when innocents were being slaughtered a stone's throw away from the seat of holiness, is a kind of evil in itself.)

Defying his vow of obedience, Father Hugh (together with other heroes) organized an escape route. Jews and Allied soldiers who could make it to the Vatican were smuggled out to safety, at great risk to their civilian protectors. They would meet for "choir practice," then plan how they would send aid or ferry prisoners from one city to another.

Told from several points of view, the polyphonic voices of characters of different countries and backgrounds are a testament to the superb ear of the author. And when he writes about music!!!

"Some consolation of the spirit, some release happens when human beings sing in a group, wherever and however that occurs. In a place of worship, on the terraces of a football stadium, in a cramped and draughty attic, bombers droning overhead. Nearly all music has beauty, but when it includes the marriage of baritone and soprano, of bass and alto, chorus and soloist, it becomes something more than merely the upliftingly beautiful. Harmony is an everyday, achievable miracle... Little wonder we refer to music as “a gift.”"

The taut action kept me reading til early morning on a school night. The beauty of the language made each page a pleasure to read. And the ending!!! As another reviewer put it, it could bring tears to an atheist's eyes.

"Hope, if it is ever encountered, is in the small things of the everyday, not an announcement from on high. In the aroma of cooking, a phrase from Vivaldi. A handclasp. A conversation...We can never know the miracle that is hiding in the everyday. Sometimes, it is a matter of looking."

What amazed this reader was how joyful and hopeful the book was, considering its dark subject matter. (I'd actually stopped reading World War II books because they were not good for my mental health, so it was a good thing I had NO idea what the book was about before I picked it up! Hurray for "read-on-sight" authors!)

"“Don’t you think you did a lot?” I asked. “Not enough,” he replied."

The ending haunts me, still. And it is always good to be reminded, that what is legal is not necessarily what is good.

After all, Jesus Himself was considered an outlaw, once.

This is only the first book in a trilogy! How joyfully we wait for the next two to come out!

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