tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17256771354310751422024-02-06T23:39:08.808-08:00SSPX Jammers<i><b>Jam Session,</b> n. </i> A gathering of musical young parishioners of SSPX chapels <i>(q.v. <b>Jam-Sessioner</b>),</i> at which a pre-rehearsed polyphonic Mass is put together and performed, along with random acts of music between rehearsals and keeping impossible hours. Hikes, bonfires and other such delightful activities may also be included.Lucia Rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11660122555147748097noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-66151015291145602342009-10-06T16:06:00.001-07:002009-10-06T16:26:00.415-07:00The New-Year JamSo... here we go again.<br /><br />The place: Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God Academy, Syracuse, New York.<br /><br />The dates: from December thirtieth, MMIX, to January third, MMX. This will be the Jam that bridged two years -- as one year ends in music and the praise of God, in the same another begins.... may it always be so, whether we have a New-Year Jam every year or not.<br /><br />The music: Josquin desPrez' <span style="font-style: italic;">Missa Pange Lingua.</span> Claudio Monteverdi's <span style="font-style: italic;">Christe Redemptor Omnium</span> from the <span style="font-style: italic;">Christmas Vespers</span>. And Christmas carols galore. We'll select more specifically for the Masses as we draw closer to the actual dates but if you want to put in your suggestions please start making them now. My first vote goes for the <span style="font-style: italic;">Huron Carol</span> or possibly the wonderful <span style="font-style: italic;">Corde Natus ex Parentis</span>.<br /><br />Anybody?... :)<br /><br />Let there be music!Agnes Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08117370558367559716noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-15075764576590222952009-08-11T14:23:00.000-07:002009-08-17T12:38:20.478-07:00Jam Session 4.1<div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">The Decimal Jam was a blast! Ignacio and I met Bibi, Dom and Father Stanich at the church on Friday afternoon, and we headed off to the Budweiser brewery. We took the tour, looking at the insanely huge vats where they ferment the beer and admiring the complex machinery in the bottling plant, and finally sitting down to enjoy beer (those who were of age) and soda (those who weren't.) Then we went back to the church to rehearse and attend First Friday Holy Hour and Mass, at which we sang -- Palestrina's lovely </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-9BZMqZ1TiU"><em><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">O Bone Jesu</span></em></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"> at Offertory, and Byrd's celestial </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KBYLNbKoPP0"><em><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">Ave Verum</span></em></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"> at Communion, and I played an organ recessional/postlude. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">After Mass, a few members of the choir for the wedding rehearsed the <em>Missa Brevis</em>, but mid-rehearsal I was called up to rescue the somewhat confused wedding party by playing the music for them. I ran up and, despite the lack of scores, played well enough to get a decent estimate of tempos for all of them to walk down the aisle.<br /></span></div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"><br />When I came down again I found the choir had already dispersed and soon Father, Bibi, Dom, Billy and I headed off to dinner at Lombardo's Italian restaurant, tucked into a corner behind Union Station. We had a plentiful and hilarious meal, and when Father finally took us home we found the whole family up, despite its being nearly eleven! We settled in the library and Bibiana produced a pile of little presents for each member of the family, and even one that we had gotten for Father Stanich when I was with her in Austin - the little carved sign saying "You can take me out of Texas, but you can't take Texas out of me!" Mom laughed at it and said, "The first thing you have to do in Syracuse is lock yourself into your office and nail that to the door!"</span><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">The next morning we woke up to a delightful breakfast of ham, eggs, pancakes and coffee, after which we dressed for the wedding. We ended up a very sharp-looking crowd, and it seemed no time at all until we had to pile into the car for string rehearsal. The car was packed; Mom, Domenico, Bibiana, Ignacio, Rocio, Maria and I, plus music and instruments, had quite a time getting all of ourselves in. However, get in we did, and got to the church in plenty of time to run over <em>Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring</em> and Mozart's<em> Ave Verum</em>, which came out amazingly. The fact that we had a miniature string orchestra seemed to raise the level of our music several notches, choir and organists alike. At twenty to one we started the preludes; Bibiana and I played Massenet's <em>Meditation</em> from <em>Thais</em>, and then Dom joined us for Bach's <em>Concerto for Two Violins</em>. That still left a hole before the wedding party was ready, so Billy played something else - improvising, I believe - until we were given the "All Clear" signal and prepared for the real thing to begin.</span></div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"><br />We started with <em>Jesu Joy,</em> for the mothers' entrance - it's a really long piece for two mothers, but hey, they asked for it, and it came out beautiful. We used every instrument we had for that one - three violins, organ and recorder. Then I took the organ and played what were possibly the three hugest pieces anyone's ever chosen in a row: Dunstable's <em>Agincourt Hymn</em> for the three priests and the servers; the <em>Promenade</em> from <em>Pictures at an Exhibition</em>, for the bridesmaids; and then the <em>Great Gate of Kiev</em>, for Stephanie herself.</span><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">The vows were spoken so softly I never heard a word; but when Father Soos came up to the pulpit to speak to the newlyweds I sat back on the organ bench and enjoyed the sermon. I wish I had taken notes, because I always love his sermons but I have a really bad memory for anything <em>spoken</em> - I'm better at remembering things I <em>read</em>. I do remember that he made a constant parallel between the vocations of the priest and the married couple, addressing himself at once to Ryan and Stephanie and to Father Sick, ordained this June, who came to be subdeacon for the Solemn Mass; it was a lovely sermon. At the end, as Stephanie offered her bouquet to Our Lady, we sang the <em>Magnificat</em>, and then I pulled out all the stops for the recessional, the Allegro of Bach's <em>Organ Concerto in A Minor</em>.</span></div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"><br />Afterward we gathered in the choir room to rehearse once more for the reception, as Stephanie had requested live music. We had some contra-dance tunes, and Bibi and I had our Handel and Beethoven, and of course, there was the Mandolin Concerto to play. Father Stanich was nervous; he had never played while he was our pastor, so of course he had to have it perfect! We finally piled into Father's car and drove off to St. Charles, where the reception was held. We arrived to discover Brandon and Ignacio enthroned in what they labeled "the Cynics' Corner", which became the end of the Musicians' Table.</span><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">When the bridal party arrived, we were settling ourselves into the opposite end of the room where the speakers were; and when dinner was served, Bibi and I kicked off the music with Beethoven's <em>Spring</em> sonata. From there, we played just about anything; Bibi and I took our chance to grab a bite when Domenico, Ignacio and Billy (violin, guitar and piano) started an improvisation on a two-chord progression provided by Dom, which turned out amazing! Later we moved everything to the middle of the room for Father's concerto, which was received politely enough, though, typical for weddings, there were children screaming in the background almost the whole time. The keyboard and mikes were still there when the dancing began and we stood by enjoying Ryan and Stephanie's waltz, (Delibes' <em>Valse Lente</em> from <em>Coppélia,</em>) and then the daddy-daughter dance and Ryan's dance with his mother, before everyone else crowded onto the floor. I was asked for every one - there weren't that many, but I danced with Dom, Billy and another friend or two before we ended up degenerating into the hilarious but insane Broom Dance. Of course, there were way too many girls, but the men kept up their end and we danced for about twenty minutes to a wild series of reels and polkas. After that, Ryan asked us why we weren't playing and Dom, taking the hint, took the keyboard to improvise on <em>Blue Moon </em>and <em>Summertime</em>. Then the violins, guitar and accordion emerged and we started jamming out - contra tunes and an improvised polka, finally degenerating into the Duck Dance and Chopsticks, and <em>Good Night Ladies</em> at the end! </span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">We came home at midnight</span><span style="font-size:85%;">, had hot milk and honey </span><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">and Dom and I sat down at the piano, where he showed me some basics of jazz, and an hour went by before we noticed it!<br /></span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />The next day after High-Mass we had breakfast with the newlyweds, and then we drove down to the Kokenges', where we spent a delightful afternoon which culminated, as usual, in a barbecue, Compline and music. Eight-year-old Agus even played a bit on his bagpipe for us, and we had the time of our lives! This was the night that we watched <span style="font-style: italic;">Hoodwinked</span>, and the Gattozzis, who had not seen it, died laughing.<br /><br />Monday we went to Grant's Farm, found it was closed, and spent a fun morning in the Visitor Center of Grant's house, though we didn't trouble to take the tour of the inside of the house -- it was too nice of a day to take an hour to walk through a house we could do in ten minutes! We walked home for lunch and then loaded all their things into the car and went off to Ted Drewes for ice cream. After that we dropped two of the girls at piano and, on a brilliant whim of Ignacio's, went over to MusicFolk to look at instruments and scores. We came out richer by a little book of mandolin pieces for Father Stanich, a sheet-music notebook for me, a bumper sticker that said "if you can read this, thank your piano teacher", and a book of Caribbean piano rhythms that Dom had discovered. By now it was time to drop Rocio off at piano and head for the airport, which we did. On the way I drafted a dedication for Father's little book and then we went through the check-in line, signed the book, and said our goodbyes -- "till Syracuse!"<br /></span>Agnes Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08117370558367559716noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-83083885288030152802009-08-07T10:49:00.000-07:002009-08-07T10:50:22.705-07:00Jam Session 4.1 (a special edition!)<p>Jam Session 4.1: Stephanie's Wedding is just around the bend! Tomorrow, actually! The Gattozzis are coming up to St. Louis, armed with bow and ... um, fiddle, and passing through Houston to take the same flight as Father Stanich; so I get to meet them all at the airport and drag them home with me for random acts of music and lots of de-Erausquin-style fun. Which is LOTS of fun!</p><p>The music for the wedding is going to be amazing! We are singing the Palestrina Missa Brevis, of beloved Jam I memory (why can't all the Jammers come help us sing it?); the Offertory hymn is O Sanctissima, and the Communion will be Mozart's Ave Verum with full string section - three violins, one masquerading as viola. But the best part of the whole thing, I think, will be blasting out Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition with every stop out on the organ: the Promenade was chosen for the bridesmaids' march, and the Great Gate of Kiev for the bride.<br /><br />Not to be content with a really awesome Nuptial Mass, Stephanie asked for live music at the reception. So there will be jazz from Dom and classical music from all of us, including Fr. Stanich's rendition of the Vivaldi Mandolin Concerto in C. Good times, good times... I'll post how it all went afterwards!</p>Agnes Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08117370558367559716noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-38377128591197155422009-07-28T12:22:00.000-07:002009-07-29T19:47:39.560-07:00Two humorous "Poems By Tom"Here are a couple of humorous poems, I wrote on the spur of the moment when responding to some commentary on my poem " <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Wedding Day", </span>I'm posting it here because we thought the other Jammers might enjoy it.( if they ever look here, =\ )<br /><br />The First one is a "sequel" to the poem afore mentioned. Here it is I hope y'all like it! ( I suggest reading <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Wedding Day </span>before you read this you would more see the humor in it.) ( be merciful I only spent 2 minutes to write it =P . )<br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">( yet to be titled)<br />By<br />Tom<br /></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">OH how happy I used to be like a Bird upon the wind;<br />but now my will, to this Tyrant-witch, I bend.</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">OH how wretched am I; I serve her night, and day,<br />and my only reward for this, is a passing glances this way. </span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">And every time she looks at me it sends a shiver down my spine;<br />OH God this must be a punishment for all my wretched crimes</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">I serve her night, and day with my soul, and will to hers bent;<br />Oh how hard it is to bear such a wretched punishment.</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">OH why was I, to her bound for all eternity?!</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">I miss my freedom of bachelorhood, and its sweet serenity!<br /><br /></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span></span></span>and here is a poem I wrote to honor the Angelic beauty of our friend, Rocio. ( I am only kidding, I don't really think this about Rocio)<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span></span> ( </span>she is very pretty =) ( The only reason I wrote this about Rocio, was in respones to here comment on, <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">wedding Day</span> )<br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Ode To Rocio<br />By<br />Tom<br /></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">OH Rocio, oh Rocio</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Your dark, and deep eyes are like</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">The large and endless Sea-o </span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Your hair is like the mulch which people pay so much to buy;<br />And, oft I wish I could have some!! to replenish my garden's supply.</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">And I so miss your voice which I have little heard;<br />but I do remember it sounded like an aged and old buzzard.</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Ohhh and your gracefulness, it was like that of pink elephants on parade;<br />but no, perhaps it was closer to hippos, doing ballet!!</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">And your teeth were white like granny's, which she did soak almost every night;<br />so that every time I saw you, I was blinded by those pearls of yellow-white!<br /><br /></div></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><br /><br /></span></span>I am only kidding, I love you, Ro =P<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span></span><br /></div><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span></div></div></div>Thomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13359545903410284980noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-13764719993065282342009-07-27T05:56:00.000-07:002009-07-27T05:58:53.919-07:00The First Jam Wedding!(Or, well, the first wedding of two Jammers,) was on Saturday!<br /><br />God bless you, Conrad and Erin, and grant you all happiness in your married life!<br /><br />Dear Conrad and Erin,<br />Today you are wed;<br />May ten thousand blessings<br />Pour down on each head;<br />For one out of two<br />Is woven today,<br />As two violins<br />One sweet melody play.<br />Santiago protect you,<br />Your guardian divine;<br />May your children flourish<br />As grapes on the vine;<br />And may the sweet notes<br />Of your holy accord<br />Be one richly harmonized<br />Praise to Our Lord.<br />As Mary and Joseph<br />May both of you be<br />United forever<br /> In true charity;<br />One mind and one heart,<br />One true love alway,<br />Till death do you part,<br />As you vowed on this day.<br /> --July 25, 2009Agnes Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08117370558367559716noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-58604687813511574942009-07-23T15:27:00.000-07:002009-07-24T08:31:20.130-07:00Another, Poem By Tom, " mass for the dead"Today I went to a funeral, a Mrs. Mary Jane Smith, she was an old woman, she had 6 children,<br />11 ( I think ) grand children and 3 great-grand children. The High mass was at St. Judes' chapel, in Stafford TX. It was very Beautiful Sam. sang the mass, alone...... (by choice, lol thats Sam for you, but No one at St. Jude's can sing as good as he, anyways...) it was very beautiful And it was old Fr. Campbell, who was saying the mass, I wrote a poem on it here it is, hope you like it. sorry for any miss-spellings. I just wrote it like half-n-hour ago, tell me what you think.<br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">A mass for the Dead</span><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">By<br />Tom<br /><br /><br />To see<br />velvet garments in mournful black,<br />gently swaying back and forth;<br />like the swinging of the pendulum, that keeps time on us all,<br />draped over old Father Time himself.<br />With every solemn genuflection<br />of his shaking frame,<br />there was a sort of tired plea<br />for mercy on the departed soul.<br /><br />While gently, and steadily,<br />like the moon hung tide,<br />did Sam's voice ebb and flow<br />with the solemn tones of the mass.<br /><br />Solemn and, quiet sat the black draped coffin,<br />silently listening to the mournful prayers<br />made by the priest's shaking voice;<br />and then to the steady reply,<br />in its gently chanted, solemn tones.<br /><br />So, silently stood I,<br />as the mournful asperges<br />wept its blessed tears over the quiet coffin.<br />While the thurifer silently breathed over it<br />his incensed breath, to give escort<br />to the soul, as she slowly walked down the aisle,<br />to be united, for all eternity,<br />with her heavenly Bridegroom.<br /><br />Then solemnly, did the coffin follow Christ,<br />to its resting place;<br />till he comes again.<br />Accompanying this was Sam's steady voice<br />that seemed to follow<br />the Coffin as it left the Church.<br /><br />Then all was silent;<br />except the Altar boy's small button,<br />brushing against the pole of Christ's cross;<br />Which did sound as an iron bell's pean,<br />mournfully ringing in the distance.<br /><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><br /><br /></span></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span></div><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span></div>Thomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13359545903410284980noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-63741036852910303492009-07-21T08:51:00.000-07:002009-07-23T23:23:55.089-07:00Jam-Session Fanfiction?Yep... it now exists! Because, as Bibi and I recalled the ghost stories of Friday night, sitting on the stump in front of the school building, we thought there should be a ghost story set in the Jam itself. So here, for fun, (with a picture for context), is<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_z2l1_cSbd6Q1aPhLAItNywihv4Jr8D1_PMTY1tm_zacJsrPFHb33EFDHXPKGkaHqA7ksoBQCw4CP1fLqolnqznkX73fXjo2XAOoVmwsqkq8JVQ1DZWtkMXF6Ogsb7314sYyTX8Ea8JP_/s1600-h/School"></a><br /><strong>The Demon of the Stump: </strong><em>a Jam-Session Story</em><br /><em></em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZPQQrX5elRtt8pMnqDJLoUlnyj8eRgBrXAmWitamWUjbJ6Os0ktqNv6E0IgFlLSzCrGlC8gW0O1PTC3oxioRXMKzwecpGICVlgC3TLd0JiFFiSwKoOqbd8vNM02P6UJiNitGoRlSf_w0/s1600-h/School"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360942067030589410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZPQQrX5elRtt8pMnqDJLoUlnyj8eRgBrXAmWitamWUjbJ6Os0ktqNv6E0IgFlLSzCrGlC8gW0O1PTC3oxioRXMKzwecpGICVlgC3TLd0JiFFiSwKoOqbd8vNM02P6UJiNitGoRlSf_w0/s320/School" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The summer night was cool and dark in the shadow of the distant mountains; but a street-lamp shed a golden glow over the long, low building that had once been a church and was now a school.<br /><br />In the silence, something stirred by the stump a few feet from the door. Two glowing red eyes shone evilly from a black, hideous face; two black bat wings unfolded to the night air, fouling the clean desert breeze as a great figure rose to tower menacingly over the little building.<br /><br />The Demon of the Stump growled to himself. For many years he had hidden there, waiting for his chance; but now, he would wait no longer.<br /><br />"Souls I will have, tonight," he hissed. "Oh, yes... These little fools who think they can win souls for the Enemy by their drumming and fiddling and four-part screeching! Oh, they will suffer for it..."<br /><br />He vanished back into the stump and waited, peering out. A fifteen-seater van pulled through the gates and a crowd of laughing girls jumped out, chattering about the opera they had just heard, preceded by a bespectacled young man who gave each one a hand to help her out and the priest who had driven them, at the sight of whom the Demon snorted in disgust.<br /><br />"The kind, the wise, the athletically gifted, the.... the idiot!" he muttered. "How did he come up with these jam things anyway? Sickeningly 'wholesome fun'... ugh."<br /><br />"One of you should come and take the key and lock the gate," the priest remarked.<br /><br />"I'll go," one of the girls spoke up - a tall, slim girl with a mass of bright golden-brown curls tumbling over her shoulders and merry brown eyes.<br /><br />"All right, Bibiana."<br /><br />"I'm coming too," said another, a smaller girl with straight brown hair and dark-brown eyes, clad in a frilly light-blue dress which made the Demon snort again.<br /><br />The girls poured into the building, and the Demon watched the two girls walk down toward the gates after the van. The priest passed them the key and they closed the gate, bidding him good night and turning back toward the building.<br /><br />The Demon glared at the two approaching figures.<br /><br />"Those two. The ones who wrote that song..." (adding a couple of demonic adjectives not to be repeated.) "Well, good... they will suffer for it!"<br /><br />He rose from the stump, reducing the lamp to sparking smithereens with one blow of his hellish fist; and the girls backed away in terror from the towering shadow with the glowing red eyes, clinging to each other, voiceless with fear.<br /><br />"You can run, but you can't hide," the Demon hissed with an evil chuckle.<br /><br />Both began to recite the Hail Mary, voices shaking. At the detested name, the Demon cowered. Seeing it, the two advanced on him, repeating the prayer in louder tones. He rose up with a roar of fury and pain that echoed from the very mountains. The voices faltered; but the two had reached the foot of the ten-foot Crucifix that stood at the corner of the building, and as he sprang on them he fell back as if burned.<br /><br />The younger girl set her back against the Crucifix and spoke in a voice that did not seem hers - clear and ringing as a bronze bell, with a power that was beyond her own, with words that were not her own.<br /><br />"<em>Vade retro, Satana! Scriptum est enim: "Dominum Deum tuum adorabis et illi soli servies.</em>"<br /><br />Her companion gasped; and she looked at the Crucifix above her in time to see the right hand pull away from the wood and point at the Demon, who, with a scream that left Albuquerque shivering all the rest of the night, vanished in a flash of flame, leaving them in absolute darkness.<br /><br />The two fell to their knees, with a prayer of thanksgiving; and went in to explain to the girls, who were all shivering with terror, what that sound had been, and what had taken them so long.<br /><br />The next morning, as they all came out to wait for their ride to Mass, one of the girls exclaimed, "<em>Look at the Crucifix!</em>"<br /><br />The right arm of the Crucifix still pointed to where the Demon had stood; and where the stump had been was only a burned and blackened patch of ground.Agnes Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08117370558367559716noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-56715304438717398152009-07-15T18:31:00.000-07:002009-07-16T11:59:30.068-07:00A Poem by Tom.Here's a poem I thought I'd post tell me what y'all think.<br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">He pretended to be a poet true,</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">and write for the love of Mary Lou.</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">He said when he gazed into her eyes,</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">he saw the sun in summer, rise.</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">But really, he saw his own reflection</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">of his inner "self perfection"</span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">He wrote poems saying she was humble, and meek;</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">that she had a voice like angels sweet</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">But he meant that he was sweet, and kind,</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">and had an amazing, brilliant mind.</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">He boasted that he loved her true,</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">and " Hopelessly, hoped she loved him too"</span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">He wrote things he did deem were sweet,</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">but they had a stink like rotten meat;</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">they stunk with the smell of haughty, pride</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">And were only covered, with a patterned hide.</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">He said he loved sweet Mary Lou,</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">he said he loved her through, and through;</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">but really what he meant to say</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">is "I love my self in every way."</span><br /><br />-Tom </div>Thomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13359545903410284980noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-17576452688948025712009-07-14T09:31:00.000-07:002009-07-14T09:36:01.278-07:00Two Jam Poems.These are the two poems born, actually, in the pre-Jam visit to Austin; but they are Jammy, so here they are for the Jammers' reading pleasure. The first one (really, written second) was written as the plane flew away toward Albuquerque, based on the view as we headed to the airport.<br /><br /><strong><em>Austin Sunrise</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><em>The sky is violet-blue, and easterly,</em><br /><em>A glow of red and gold begins to rise -</em><br /><em>A flame to dazzle all unwary eyes;</em><br /><em>The day begins, the dark again must flee.</em><br /><em>The frightened shadows turn and race away,</em><br /><em>Not standing on their order of retreat,</em><br /><em>Fleeing the dreaded light on silent feet,</em><br /><em>While we with music greet the newborn day.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>The day is young, as we; with merry heart</em><br /><em>And soul, refreshed and rested, up we start,</em><br /><em>To fill its time with actions good. No wrong,</em><br /><em>God aiding us, will dim its golden light</em><br /><em>Till, as it deepens into dark of night,</em><br /><em>We end, as we began, with joyful song.</em><br /><br />and then, this one was written early one morning as I waited for Bibi to wake up (because, as we all know, she is very lazy -- (kidding, I love you Bibi!)<br /><p><strong><em>Song of the Jam-Pianists.</em></strong></p><em>Our hearts are strung with piano wire,</em><br /><em>And when our fingers touch the keys,</em><br /><em>Our being is engulfed in fire</em><br /><em>Of light and love and great desire</em><br /><em>For music's deepest mysteries;</em><br /><em>Yet we would have not only these,</em><br /><em>But long for glory that is higher.<br /></em><br /><em>And this desire for holy things</em><br /><em>Is source of sweetest melody,</em><br /><em>Sending it pulsing from the strings;</em><br /><em>And rising on undaunted wings,</em><br /><em>Sweet harmony with harmony</em><br /><em>Blends, as the waters of the sea,</em><br /><em>And sadly sobs or richly rings.</em><br /><br /><em>O music, heartbeat of our soul,</em><br /><em>That rends our hearts and fills our eyes</em><br /><em>With tears of pain or deepest dole,</em><br /><em>Or strengthens us to reach the goal,</em><br /><em>Or makes us laugh in glad surprise;</em><br /><em>True gift of God thou art, and prize</em><br /><em>To us, that makes our spirits whole!<br /></em><br /><em>Our music let us boldly raise</em><br /><em>To Him that gave us Song and Love,</em><br /><em>And as we lift our hymn of praise</em><br /><em>Through all our nights and all our days</em><br /><em>To Father, Son and holy Dove,</em><br /><em>We pray that we, at last, above</em><br /><em>The stars may sing more worthy lays.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>--June 25, 2009.</em>Agnes Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08117370558367559716noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-88210431402908803762009-05-16T13:35:00.000-07:002009-05-16T16:24:38.976-07:00Jam IV -- not too much time left!One month, one week, and three days left till the jammers congregate once more... this time in the beautiful church of Sts. Peter and Paul in Albuquerque, NM. Quite a change of air -- I wonder if the high altitude will affect our singing voices! (I doubt it...)<br /><br />The menu this time seems to consist of Vittoria and perhaps Byrd for the Mass; and Vivaldi, Mozart and even some Beethoven for the real jamming. What fun!!!Agnes Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08117370558367559716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-32997811061839258652008-12-14T20:41:00.000-08:002008-12-14T20:42:40.731-08:00Music for Jam IIIByrd: Mass for 4 voices<br />Byrd: Ave Verum Corpus<br />Assorted Christmas carolsLucia Rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11660122555147748097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-48682197548548796622008-09-29T13:33:00.000-07:002008-09-29T13:39:55.021-07:00Another poem by Inés...this one is the theme of Jam Session III, the St. Stephen's Jam! If you can't guess the tune you must be very uncultured in the way of carols or slightly dense... :)<br /><br />Here we go to Texas, o,<br />For session number three,<br />To sing with all our dear friends<br />Some more polyphony;<br />Send a note! Pass the word!<br />"Guys, we're gonna sing some Byrd!"<br /><em>And God bless us and send us<br />A merry, merry jam,<br />And God send us a merry, merry jam.</em><br /><br />God bless our Father Stanich dear<br />Upon his festal day;<br />We'll drink his health with pleasure,<br />And cheer him "Hip, hooray!"<br />Loud and louder we'll cheer<br />Our Croatian Father dear<br /><em>And God bless us...</em><br /><br />Although the city's shaken by<br />A recent hurricane,<br />With merriment and music<br />We'll shake it up again,<br />All in Christ to restore<br />We will sing and sing some more<br /><em>And God bless us...</em><br /><br />And to the Holy Innocents<br />On Sunday we will pray,<br />That they may keep us stainless<br />And innocent as they;<br />In their praise we will cry<br />"Glory be to God on high,"<br /><em>And God bless us...</em>Agnes Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08117370558367559716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-19151392925455395342008-09-26T16:00:00.000-07:002008-09-26T16:05:06.861-07:00A Poem by Ines: Group Therapy<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-AYc3oGmYDu1eFmAVLZNZVkYnrnmHJ2xiG74w5WeXSBMKd3ptB8DNigLR8-u9qWMNztYpLz2Eom4iNcgJ_BeCSmRfMrRVdPSWUKGD54PtP2ohbM6tOR1TMU1gtiWS0Y_agdjEcNgP9emz/s1600-h/Group+therapy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250469478619432770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-AYc3oGmYDu1eFmAVLZNZVkYnrnmHJ2xiG74w5WeXSBMKd3ptB8DNigLR8-u9qWMNztYpLz2Eom4iNcgJ_BeCSmRfMrRVdPSWUKGD54PtP2ohbM6tOR1TMU1gtiWS0Y_agdjEcNgP9emz/s320/Group+therapy.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Well, my dears, I present THE THERAPY GROUP THEME SONG. No, it does not have music yet. Dom, Bibi, anybody?....<br /><br />Come sit in our circle and tell us your name,<br />We'll greet you with cheerful delight,<br />And tell us your troubles, whatever they be,<br />For surely we'll set them all right!<br />What is it you suffer? Addiction to gum?<br />Or does ADOS trouble you?<br />Or are you the type that's been drinking for twen-<br />Ty-one years -- and is just twenty-two?<br />Come sit in our circle and tell us your name<br />And your problem, whatever it be;<br />Be certain of this..."WEEEE CAN HEEEEEEEELP YOU WITH THAAAAAAT..."<br />At Jam Session Group Therapy!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a id="myphotolink" href="http://www.new.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=31612587&id=3003295&op=1&view=all&subj=29012026555&aid=-1&oid=29012026555"></a><a id="myphotolink" href="http://www.new.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=31612587&id=3003295&op=1&view=all&subj=29012026555&aid=-1&oid=29012026555"></a>Lucia Rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11660122555147748097noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-25462516027194553992008-08-30T14:38:00.000-07:002008-08-30T14:50:23.901-07:00Some pictures!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMbwjIND6snHt4-ySkIUjrS9Bas31sOeUkWe_W7XWIdRGH3EqmjWjh_GESYV6s8w0QsAH7TRaNqvlVl0SM0Y6kohF_SOdG9lqOcJ4zUSwZjWnkfjCblUFszTQKV23YbQo2rCm7HrjJxR14/s1600-h/HighFeast.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240428548480000402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMbwjIND6snHt4-ySkIUjrS9Bas31sOeUkWe_W7XWIdRGH3EqmjWjh_GESYV6s8w0QsAH7TRaNqvlVl0SM0Y6kohF_SOdG9lqOcJ4zUSwZjWnkfjCblUFszTQKV23YbQo2rCm7HrjJxR14/s320/HighFeast.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8RcKgBeLspolDJC6n3KEXnebGqtKZSsimJfzJEJfTIqWONKfydOhXdetqOobyrpqPLs3VFDVMisxB8IIvzpZ_afGrqd5BSN7Ns6ve5JFINCgC5e_mgXt6zCLvM0lq9vfFLEnmTr9u5tui/s1600-h/Jamgroup.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240428548141495442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8RcKgBeLspolDJC6n3KEXnebGqtKZSsimJfzJEJfTIqWONKfydOhXdetqOobyrpqPLs3VFDVMisxB8IIvzpZ_afGrqd5BSN7Ns6ve5JFINCgC5e_mgXt6zCLvM0lq9vfFLEnmTr9u5tui/s320/Jamgroup.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDU7RSOeec0mINt6kZbv_rQsautVIABrt1rXIqLUvLmWRgIMT3V1r7uRpUJywtlqukMPJJOIRWDP8L1qL3LcDtBygd7lk2quGxreRFjO7RvS3XU0ITHNdq5ZGtS7FDtkIxJuBA2YcgSVn/s1600-h/JamLadies.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240428551578791298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDU7RSOeec0mINt6kZbv_rQsautVIABrt1rXIqLUvLmWRgIMT3V1r7uRpUJywtlqukMPJJOIRWDP8L1qL3LcDtBygd7lk2quGxreRFjO7RvS3XU0ITHNdq5ZGtS7FDtkIxJuBA2YcgSVn/s320/JamLadies.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Sorry, I don't know whom the credits are due to on these, since I saved quite a few from Facebook! You'll have to tell which are whose in the comments. Well, except the table one is a copy of one by Fr. Young.</div>Lucia Rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11660122555147748097noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-68675156610218203322008-08-27T16:59:00.000-07:002008-08-27T17:07:39.542-07:00Another Poem!Ah, these Jams are so inspirational, aren't they? This one began in the car on the way back from Mexico, Sunday evening, but I had to stop when it grew too dark to write; so I only finished it today, when I remembered.<br /><br /><strong>Sunset Thoughts</strong><br /><br />The sun is sinking in the west;<br />The evening is ablaze<br />As we head home along the road,<br />This third of four fun days;<br /><br />Days full of song and laughter gay,<br />Of hymn and harmony,<br />Of jokes and plays and merriment<br />With friends we love to see;<br /><br />The Masses and the merry meals<br />With friends and Fathers dear,<br />The glory of the harmony<br />Of youthful voices clear!<br /><br />All, all too soon, we all must part,<br />And bid a sad goodbye,<br />But we will not forget these days,<br />And thus we will not sigh;<br /><br />But for the Jams to come we'll wait -<br />Oh, we'll be happy then,<br />With song and wine - which, said the wise,<br />Do gladden hearts of men!Agnes Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08117370558367559716noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-84203006516132937902008-08-25T20:49:00.000-07:002008-08-25T21:01:24.741-07:00Greetings all!<div>I hope that all the travelers made it home safely (and without notice from pesty policemen).</div><div>I had a wonderful time on this second Jam Session. Moreover, I can speak from a little more experience now in my home parish.<br /></div><div>I want to thank Father Stanich for having made this an important and successful event. Music (sacred and common) is still another part to the restoration of all things in Christ. Catholic Culture is so rich with its music, philosophy, theology or simple customs of the people, we ought to thank God for such a wonderful gift and be quick to share it with our fellow moderns who are so in need of real culture in their lives. Three cheers for Father Stanich's contribution in this regard!</div><div><br /></div><div>In Christ the King.</div><div><br /></div>ConradGriegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08084800094956023460noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-4793379690790741662008-04-05T20:53:00.000-07:002008-04-05T20:55:33.280-07:00Music for the Next JamDear Singers,<br />Greetings from Texas. I hope that all of you had a blessed Easter.<br />I now have chosen the music for the Jam Session in St. Louis for the weekend of August 24th. I would like to do:<br />Tomas Luis de Victoria's Mass: Magna Mysterium, <br />J. Handel's polyphonic piece: Ascendit Deus <br />Kodaly's polyphonic piece: Ave Maria <br />Josquin Des Prez' polyphonic piece: Ave Maria...Virgo Serena (for this one it will be a limited number of singers)<br />I will send the music to all of you in a couple weeks, since I will be on retreat this coming week. If you have any questions, you can contact me.<br />Sincerely yours in Christ,<br /> Fr. Stephen StanichLucia Rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11660122555147748097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-29815923027749007032008-03-29T15:00:00.000-07:002008-03-30T14:40:57.915-07:00L'Antimodérniste<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">Dear jam-sessioners, and dear Father,</span>
<br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">In one of our many emails Bibiana made a really beautiful and interesting point, quoted below:</span>
<br />
<br /><em><blockquote><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><em>I have a theory: I think music and art in general, especially the fine arts, are the "soft underbelly" of the modernist monster we are fighting...the modernists have not been able to compete with the art of the Catholic past, so this is where We (the new generation of artists and musicians) can conquer the beast! </em></span></span></blockquote></em><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">Inspired, I wrote the following war-song for us. Bibiana, dubbing it the <em>Antimodérniste,</em> has promised music!! So we have a new jam-sessioners' anthem.... "Coming this August... only in St. Louis!" (in movie-preview tone). :)</span>
<br /></em><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"></span>
<br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪</span>
<br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Christ set up His Church on a Rock firm and strong,</span>
<br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">And Hell's gates will never against it prevail;</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">The Ship of St. Peter sails bravely along,</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Though tossed by the breakers and bent by the gale.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">The modernist monster, a sea-serpent sly,</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Attempts to engulf her in waves of deceit;</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">But we her brave sailors stand watchfully by;</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">With Christ at the helm, every foe we'll defeat!</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Our foemen with vigor and lies do assault,</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">To banish the glory we held for so long;</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">But we can defeat them, we'll never default;</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">We'll beat them with beauty and smash them with song.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">They drag down to earth those who strain for the skies</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">And turn to grey shadows the bright and the clear;</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Their weapons are foulness and malice and lies;</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Then fight them with that which they know not, and fear.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">They fear what they know not -- the true and the fair;</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Let those be our weapons, our beauty and truth,</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">With sword and with word, and with war-song and prayer,</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">The modernist monster will flee from our youth!</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">With art and with music, with grace on our side,</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">We'll battle our foes till they flee from the plain;</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">And then we'll pour out Palestrina with pride,</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">And Vittoria we'll sing-- and <em>vittoria </em>we'll gain</span>!</div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪</span></div>
<br />Agnes Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08117370558367559716noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-70915934080167700012008-03-08T19:11:00.001-08:002008-03-08T19:15:20.093-08:00Hymn to Mary, Queen of Angels<span style="font-size:85%;">Here is a prayer to Our Lady. Enjoy!</span><br /><br />O Queen of Angels - hear our prayer!<br />We come to kneel before thy throne,<br />The sinful sons of Eve, who dare<br />To claim thee, Mary, for our own.<br />O Mary, Mistress of the world -<br />Splendid as armies in array<br />With swords aloft and flags unfurled -<br />We kneel before thy feet today.<br /><br />Worn with the long and cruel fight,<br />Wounded in many hard-fought fields,<br />Victorious seldom, strength grown slight,<br />With splintered swords and shattered shields,<br />We weary warriors kneel, and cry,<br />With banners trailing in the dust,<br />"O Mother, aid us or we die;<br />Without thy help, then fall we must…"<br /><br />Seven swords pierced thy heart, the swords<br />Of sorrow, pain and misery,<br />But if thou draw them, all the lords<br />Of hell cannot but break and flee.<br />O Maiden fair, unstained, serene,<br />Hear then thy sons who cry to thee;<br />Take up the fallen sword, O Queen,<br />And lead us on to victory.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"> --Inés de Erausquin</span>Agnes Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08117370558367559716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-41224553803601028992008-01-30T18:06:00.000-08:002008-01-30T18:07:25.283-08:00Hurrah!<em>Here is Fr. Stanich's letter about the next jam!!!</em><br />Dear Singers,<br />Father Steven Soos has graciously accepted to host the next "Jam Session" in the beautiful city of St.Louis during the weekend of August 22-25th. Fatherbeing a Hungarian will surely try to outdo a Croatianbut that will be hard to do!<br />I will send out my proposal to all of you in the nearfuture to let you know what I would like to do nexttime.<br />Wishing you a holy Lent, I am<br />Sincerely yours in Christ,<br />Fr. Stephen StanichLucia Rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11660122555147748097noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-42231262013336692802008-01-15T17:52:00.000-08:002008-01-15T17:57:33.194-08:00O Brother!!!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVHbvaFD6_wyf5EnyhgmMoU8WRLzv3b_490yqYsBpJsk2o5hAR4g0okxxBwfJbdGcm1pfQ1AbTxlTrzeH6U0leo_qDkgaEVTRJGcggXOpktLSvWsFvDKJpGShqGcU6NfwI6oDN0RSDLt4/s1600-h/Digital+Camera+1+159.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155886691304507570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVHbvaFD6_wyf5EnyhgmMoU8WRLzv3b_490yqYsBpJsk2o5hAR4g0okxxBwfJbdGcm1pfQ1AbTxlTrzeH6U0leo_qDkgaEVTRJGcggXOpktLSvWsFvDKJpGShqGcU6NfwI6oDN0RSDLt4/s320/Digital+Camera+1+159.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;">Brother Gregory's Hilarious Interpretation of Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver. LOL!</span></div>TZorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04767918245392575299noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-76282621134616392642008-01-14T12:24:00.000-08:002008-01-14T12:26:33.977-08:00Hi Palestrina FriendsHey all<br />I have some pictures from the jam session weekend...how do I post them on here? I confess I have never "blogged" before....so I need all the help I can get from you experts!<br />Thanks Lucia for setting this up!<br />Best wishes and greetings to everyone,<br />BibiBibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01719781800839822152noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-12293453285062986752008-01-09T13:38:00.000-08:002008-01-09T14:11:37.905-08:00Hey Y'all !<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV_dXNWiNOQwBDuL1DrQtadlsEZY8CUH4dWluBAjZiVwqu_3AqJM9MRYW0Nl2ez__jR3BbneBbjRVnaPTmmeR_cFTFUNfvn9PwfHWtxUIg95F7rZqzU49pgRRLzgSTMwuRRNQ9VZ4EROk/s1600-h/Digital+Camera+1+161.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153596236785158306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV_dXNWiNOQwBDuL1DrQtadlsEZY8CUH4dWluBAjZiVwqu_3AqJM9MRYW0Nl2ez__jR3BbneBbjRVnaPTmmeR_cFTFUNfvn9PwfHWtxUIg95F7rZqzU49pgRRLzgSTMwuRRNQ9VZ4EROk/s320/Digital+Camera+1+161.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I had a great time and it was really nice to meet all of you. Hopefully, we can do this again. Oh, and my e-mail address has changed to <a href="mailto:aggiedaughter@hotmail.com">aggiedaughter@hotmail.com</a>. </div>TZorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04767918245392575299noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-6771796401753187332008-01-08T19:22:00.000-08:002008-01-08T19:26:50.231-08:00As Promised - A Jam-Session DittyDo re mi fa sol la ti,<br />Merry will our sessions be,<br />Arias, jazz, concertos too,<br />Keep us all from feeling blue,<br />(Though a blues chord here and there<br />Is a thing we love to share!)<br />Dorian, major, Lydian, minor,<br />Modes and keys get fine and finer,<br />Rounds, polyphony and chant,<br />Sight-sing, sight-play, and if you can't,<br />Ask the key and shut your eyes<br />And improv, improv, improvise!<br />When at last it's time to go,<br />End the jam with Figaro!<br />Tomorrow night - it's morning?! - then,<br /><em>Tonight,</em> we'll do it all again!Agnes Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08117370558367559716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1725677135431075142.post-4463287527059446572008-01-08T18:57:00.000-08:002008-01-08T18:59:05.972-08:00Hello!Welcome to the Jam Session blog! Here's to our webmistress, Lucia, for making it! I'll probably post some jam poetry as well, when I write it.Agnes Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08117370558367559716noreply@blogger.com0