San Francisco Sun, 9th March, 2014
This morning I'm thinking of San Francisco. Yes, I have a business trip there for which I'll be departing this afternoon. But that's all about airports, hotel rooms, client meetings and traffic jams.
The San Francisco that fills my thoughts today is the metaphorical one, a place of hope and sanctuary for those who long for a place where they belong, a place where they can connect with kindred spirits, where they can feel they've arrived at home at last.
I spent all day yesterday rehearsing and enjoying fellowship with my brothers in the Gateway Men's Chorus, and our fellow singers in Kansas City's Heartland Men's Chorus. We have joined forces to produce the Midwest premiere of Broadway composer Andrew Lippa's oratorio "I Am Harvey Milk." Originally commissioned by the San Francisco Gay Men's Chorus, it's a moving work that celebrates the life of slain San Francisco city supervisor Harvey Milk who was a pioneer for gay rights in this country.
I was in awe as man after man stood and shared which pieces of this oratorio spoke to him personally, and the reflections were rich and poignant. There's not space here to talk about all the stories, but each ultimately was a story of belonging, overcoming the pain of exile, and living authentically.
For me, and I think intentionally for Lippa as well, the anchor of the oratorio is the lush, prayerful and moving ode to the city of San Francisco. As one singer shared yesterday, for Harvey Milk and thousands of gay men beginning in the 1970s, San Francisco became a place where they could find community and belonging.
The piece opens serenely, with a chorus of gentle oohs and ahs rising out of the mist like the Golden Gate itself. Then comes the text, which is some of the most moving I have ever sung.
In last night's preview performance in Columbia, Mo., I saw people weeping in the audience. And this is because a longing for community is a universal experience that resonates in each of us, regardless of sexual orientation or any other characteristic. Each of us has broken places, old scars or fresh wounds. We all must find our sanctuary, our place, our people so that we can feel authentic and whole.
In our own region, St. Louis or Kansas City is San Francisco for young LGBT people who need a community in which they can not only find refuge and understanding but celebrate their identities, to be "made real." For others, such as those with non-traditional religious beliefs, their San Francisco may be a caring religious community that welcomes them in and says "you belong here."
Where is your San Francisco? And, perhaps more important, can you be San Francisco for someone else?
I close with Lippa's text from this extraordinary piece, spare and powerful.
San Francisco,
I am calling.
I am hoping you'll hold me secure in your arms.
San Francisco,
I have no one.
So I'm hoping you'll hold me,
And I'm hoping you'll help me.
San Francisco,
I am broken.
But you welcome the broken to come and to heal.
San Francisco,
Be my lover
Make me real.
I am lonely and tired and frightened
But you surround me.
Then I'm wanted and welcome and perfect
With you around me.
City by the Bay,
Let me hear you say
You love me.
—Andrew Lippa
This morning I'm thinking of San Francisco. Yes, I have a business trip there for which I'll be departing this afternoon. But that's all about airports, hotel rooms, client meetings and traffic jams.
The San Francisco that fills my thoughts today is the metaphorical one, a place of hope and sanctuary for those who long for a place where they belong, a place where they can connect with kindred spirits, where they can feel they've arrived at home at last.
I spent all day yesterday rehearsing and enjoying fellowship with my brothers in the Gateway Men's Chorus, and our fellow singers in Kansas City's Heartland Men's Chorus. We have joined forces to produce the Midwest premiere of Broadway composer Andrew Lippa's oratorio "I Am Harvey Milk." Originally commissioned by the San Francisco Gay Men's Chorus, it's a moving work that celebrates the life of slain San Francisco city supervisor Harvey Milk who was a pioneer for gay rights in this country.
I was in awe as man after man stood and shared which pieces of this oratorio spoke to him personally, and the reflections were rich and poignant. There's not space here to talk about all the stories, but each ultimately was a story of belonging, overcoming the pain of exile, and living authentically.
For me, and I think intentionally for Lippa as well, the anchor of the oratorio is the lush, prayerful and moving ode to the city of San Francisco. As one singer shared yesterday, for Harvey Milk and thousands of gay men beginning in the 1970s, San Francisco became a place where they could find community and belonging.
The piece opens serenely, with a chorus of gentle oohs and ahs rising out of the mist like the Golden Gate itself. Then comes the text, which is some of the most moving I have ever sung.
In last night's preview performance in Columbia, Mo., I saw people weeping in the audience. And this is because a longing for community is a universal experience that resonates in each of us, regardless of sexual orientation or any other characteristic. Each of us has broken places, old scars or fresh wounds. We all must find our sanctuary, our place, our people so that we can feel authentic and whole.
In our own region, St. Louis or Kansas City is San Francisco for young LGBT people who need a community in which they can not only find refuge and understanding but celebrate their identities, to be "made real." For others, such as those with non-traditional religious beliefs, their San Francisco may be a caring religious community that welcomes them in and says "you belong here."
Where is your San Francisco? And, perhaps more important, can you be San Francisco for someone else?
I close with Lippa's text from this extraordinary piece, spare and powerful.
San Francisco,
I am calling.
I am hoping you'll hold me secure in your arms.
San Francisco,
I have no one.
So I'm hoping you'll hold me,
And I'm hoping you'll help me.
San Francisco,
I am broken.
But you welcome the broken to come and to heal.
San Francisco,
Be my lover
Make me real.
I am lonely and tired and frightened
But you surround me.
Then I'm wanted and welcome and perfect
With you around me.
City by the Bay,
Let me hear you say
You love me.
—Andrew Lippa
