I had the special chance tonight to accompany Brother Whipple to an organ concert in the St. Savior’s Church with three other kids (his car only seats five). His Russian friend Katyana played a work by Messiaen. It was so thought provoking. She is Jewish but played of Christ so tenderly and convincingly to a bunch of Mormons in a Franciscan monastery. Most of the small audience was made up of Franciscan monks and since Brother Whipple performs and practices there regularly he knows most of them by name. Frater Pietra (Brother Peter) took the five of us up on the roof afterwards to see the city at night. It had rained during the concert and the crisp fall air mingled with a dewy freshness as I drank in the sight of electric Jerusalem. The window of a nearby Greek apartment was open and the simple tune of a recorder floated over the roofs. If I’d had my violin I’m fairly confident that I would not have been able to resist jumping down to the roofs and spilling Hasidic improvisations into the night air! Alas: some other time.
We came home to the Whipples’ apartment and discussed music and olive wood over thick chocolate milk. Does life get better than this?