Whatever your tradition, I hope that your Holy Week and Easter have been as meaningful and joyful as ours. As I am a pastoral musician, it's been a busy two weeks, but such blessings!

Two weeks ago, on Passion Sunday, the St. Timothy's choir sang Charles Wood's beautiful St. Mark Passion. The area was under a high-wind advisory, and when we came to the part where the choir sings the tumultuous, "And they laid their hands on Him, and took him; and the disciples all forsook Him, and fled," the high winds caused a blink in power followed by a minute or so of no power at all. The organ, the wind chest of which is filled using an electric motor, sort of wound down into groans, and the choir kept going, God bless them! It reminded me of the organ 'symphony' in Dubois' Seven Last Words of Christ during the rending of the veil of the Temple and the graves opening...Did I say that I am extraordinarily blessed by the singers whom I direct, everywhere I direct? My St. T choir regulars are a group of most willing and good-humored singers--not a big ego among them, just joyful music-making--and we had the "three young guys" (classically-trained singers, the brother and two friends of our [also classically-trained and fabulous] soprano soloist) with us, which is always a treat.

On Palm Sunday, Schola Vox Clara sang for the Extraordinary Form Mass at the cathedral, which included the palm procession and all the hymns (Latin and English) sung a cappella (in the Extraordinary Form the organ is silent from Ash Wednesday to the Easter Vigil). This is 'my' other group of wonderful singers, who come together from several area parishes to support the EF and to help renew traditional music within the Catholic Church.

Back to St. T's on Maundy Thursday, with John Stainer's God so loved the world and the Procession to the Altar of Repose through the sweetly-scented garden full of blooming azaleas, singing Pange lingua. I think it must have been such a setting when Our Lord prayed in the garden for His Father's will to be done--such a contrast between the spring blooming and the stark reality of what the Father asked. "Jesus, with the Law complying, keeps the feast its rites demand; then, more precious food supplying, gives Himself with His own hand."

Good Friday the schola sang Palestrina's Improperia (Popule meus) at Sacred Heart, Dunn (our home parish), during the Good Friday Liturgy, which also included the chanting of the Passion according to St. John in Latin, the Adoration of the Cross, and a Cristo Muerte procession through the streets of town. Then we dashed up I-40 to St. Timothy's, where the St. Timothy's choir sang the St. John Passion of William Byrd (in English) and Goss' haunting O Saviour of the World. (My brain kept superimposing the Latin on the English and I think I'm going to have to write it up that way for next year.)

The most meaningful part of the liturgies of the Triduum, for my husband and me, is the Exsultet, sung in the candle-lit darkness of the Vigil on Easter Eve. Father Z has the most beautiful translation and a podcast of it here. I've been the cantor who sang this many times, so it was a great joy to be able to listen to Fr. Parkerson chant it and simply enjoy that great hymn of praise, and enjoy our first Easter as a united Catholic family.

This morning, it was back to St. Timothy's for the Easter Celebration. We had strings and brass in addition to our organ, and the music was, as usual, grand and glorious. We sang the Oldroyd "Mass of the Quiet Hour" (the one labeled "Third Communion Service" in The Hymnal 1940) with the orchestration I did several years ago, and the wonderful Macfarlane Christ our Passover. (Yes, I know it's a barnburner, but if we can't proclaim the Resurrection and our redemption with trumpets and strings on Easter, when can we? And only one 19th/20th c. American/Victorian piece at a time is not an embarasse de richesses, IMNSHO.) The main anthem of the morning was Jane Marshall's My Eternal King, which I think is a new all-time favorite and must-do for the choir (it was new to them this year). There is a lovely free mp3 of it here, and a simple commmentary on how Ms. Marshall came to compose it here. Ms. Marshall has a splendid compositional gift which she places at Our Lord's service with great humility.

(And I managed to stitch for a good hour or more on Angel of the Morning en route to Sacred Heart on Friday--somehow very appropriate!)

Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

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2 March AD 2009
As of 17 February, I had finished all the stitching and was awaiting my son's decision about what charms to use:

2 March AD 2009
While rooting through the garage looking for my portable(albeit it HEAVY) sewing machine, I found these two completed cross-stitched pillows:

Why "Chanting Needle"? Pourquoi 'L'Aiguille qui Chante'?

I do chant (Gregorian, that is)...and sing, and whistle, and flute...and I love embroidery, particularly counted cross-stitch and liturgical embroidery.

One of my "eventually" dreams (as in, during my septuagenarian days, maybe!) is to do cross stitch design work published online, so when I was casting about for a name for my personal website, I wanted to pick one that could eventually become a company name and that says something unique about me. Now I've discovered the world of blogs, and a good blog title is a good thing in the meantime.

Who am I? I am both a musician (conductor, singer, flutist, editor/arranger/composer, teacher) and experienced stitcher (liturgical embroidery with real metals, silks, and raised work; linen stitching including cross stitch, specialty stitches, and hardanger; needlepoint; crochet--the tiny stuff :-); and knitting); I've also picked up tailoring for myself again after a 10-year hiatus. Most of the stitching I learned from my dear Mum, now in Heaven with my Dad; the music is apparently my gift and was encouraged by my Dad, a fine natural tenor and natural polyglot (and the best read-aloud person I've ever met, because of his love of voices and sounds and humor). My family tells me that I started singing myself to sleep at about two years old, in whole, accurate verses of hymns and crooner songs and opera, and I still break into song for no reason at all except it suits my mood. :-)

In real life (i.e., non-stitching time :-), I'm wife (DH is a chemistry professor and sometimes stitcher as well as amateur gourmet chef who does the lion's share of the cooking at home) and mother of eleven-year-old DS (who wants to grow up to be a professional golfer :-). I've been a music and fine arts professor, a middle/high choral/orchestral teacher and department chair, and most recently, the full-time chief operating officer at a start-up classical middle/high school (my duties ran the gamut from principal and headmaster's designate to music and literature teacher and chair of Fine Arts and Humanities, plus admissions director, plus business manager--about 70-hour work-weeks--too much!). And all throughout my life I've been a chief pastoral musician, working mainly for Episcopal churches but also for some wonderful churches of other denominations (I was a cradle Episcopalian).

This past summer, the Holy Spirit finally completed a work 30+ years in the making: I converted to Catholicism, as did my son, joining my husband in the One, Holy, Catholic, Apostolic Church. DS and I were confirmed in the Church on the First Sunday of Advent, the new church year--a wonderful start to a new year.

So I am now the lead teacher in our homeschool, Holy Paraclete Academy, where I also offer a 7th-8th grade course in Christian epic, allegory, and fantasy to other homeschoolers; have a private music studio, A Joyful Spirit Studio, where I teach flute, voice, and piano; continue as Choirmaster at an Anglo-Catholic parish (traditional music from Gregorian chant to contemporary liturgical composers) and volunteer singer for the Vigil Mass (OF) and whatever EF Masses I can attend at our family church, Sacred Heart in Dunn; and direct Schola Vox Clara, which sings for the monthly EF Mass at the cathedral in Raleigh.

But "Why Chanting Needle"?

I originally wanted to use my love of French and call the website "L'Aiguille qui Chante" (The Singing Needle, or literally in English, "The needle that sings") but I knew that would be confusing, so I decided on "Chanting Needle" as both a reference to the French phrase and my training in and love of Gregorian chant, and "needle" is obvious :-)

Funny aside: after not getting to practice speaking French since moving south from northern Vermont many years ago, it turns out that our parish priest is fluent, so now he tries to get me back to at least some semblance of conversation!

I hope you enjoy my blog and website at chantingneedle.com.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum./The Peace of the Lord be always with you.