Deerfield

 June 6, 2025

Concert at Deerfield last night, more nearly a success than one expected. My voice was 70% clear. Appreciative audience. They seemed– the choristers too-- to appreciate my readings of Millay and Shakespeare in particular. One wasn’t sure they would. R said the poems were the highlight of the evening. I argued for master poems because the original suggestion was for spoken-word testimonials from us choristers concerning love, the thought of which made me cringe. We’d never dream of doing songs we’d written for ourselves (knowing they would be, largely, terrible) but poetry is apparently an amateur sport, wherein everyone has equal say. Sincerity counts in art only if technique has already been mastered. Fought hard, and in the test there was victory. Many people came to talk with me, including the mother of a former student –SW– who said she recognized my name immediately because I had changed her son’s life, and he mentioned me often. He mastered Chinese practically on his own, and now teaches in Taiwan. In the lobby of the Community Center at Deerfield is a huge vitrine housing exotic finches, at least one of which has tiny golden fuzzy babies with their heads sticking out of the nesting hole. 

Trump and Musk hissy-fitting like schoolgirls. Anything that weakens this presidency is good for the future.