Dear friends,
I've been heartbroken ever since learning about the death of Herman Whitfield III in Indianapolis last week.
Herman was in police custody when he died. The tragic outline of this story is all too familiar. I pray for the repose of Herman's soul and for his family in their grief.
Herman was larger than life. He pursued music with an intense passion. He was a neo-Romantic through and through. Herman radiated joy when he was involved in music. Herman took those around him on a voyage of exploration and discovery.
In 2005, I had the privilege of hearing Herman prepare and give a dedicatory piano recital at St. Thomas Lutheran Church in Bloomington, Indiana.
I wrote a review of it for the parish newsletter:
I've been heartbroken ever since learning about the death of Herman Whitfield III in Indianapolis last week.
Herman was in police custody when he died. The tragic outline of this story is all too familiar. I pray for the repose of Herman's soul and for his family in their grief.
Herman was larger than life. He pursued music with an intense passion. He was a neo-Romantic through and through. Herman radiated joy when he was involved in music. Herman took those around him on a voyage of exploration and discovery.
In 2005, I had the privilege of hearing Herman prepare and give a dedicatory piano recital at St. Thomas Lutheran Church in Bloomington, Indiana.
I wrote a review of it for the parish newsletter:
On Sunday, April 24, [2005,] ... a piano recital was given by Herman Whitfield III, a Junior at [Indiana University] and piano student of Andre Watts.
Those in attendance witnessed a remarkable display of virtuosity and sensitivity from the young musician. Herman’s varied program was over an hour and was performed entirely from memory.
The first half of the program was a series of miniatures and shorter works by Gabriel Fauré, Heitor Villa-Lobos, and William Grant Still that displayed the diverse colors and moods the instrument can create. After a short intermission, Herman returned to the keyboard to tackle a mammoth work: Franz Liszt’s Sonata in B minor. Herman connected the Sonata’s complex structure into a seamless arch that captivated his audience. Piano students in attendance remarked that among the handful of IU students who have ever attempted to perform the piece, Herman is the only undergraduate to do so.
After learning about Herman's death, I responded the only way I knew how: I wrote some music. I tried to make it Romantic and intense, just the way Herman would like it. We sang it on Sunday in St. Louis, and I hope Herman approved.
One more thing
After hearing the poet Malcolm Guite on the Call it Good podcast, I've been thinking a lot about what makes a good work of art.
Guite found a connection between poetry and the Incarnation in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream:
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.
In the Word made Flesh, God is given a habitation and a Name in Jesus.
This fleshing out of things into a habitation becomes, for Guite, a way of thinking about creativity and artistic creation.
“I think art always have characters of gift and grace; that it has to carry with it an invitation to see something and find something. It has to be not only generous but also generative. It has to create a place and a space that people can have access to.”
"A good work of art has to have both doors and windows. That is to say that it's got to have something that opens up sufficiently to invite you in, and then it's got to give you some new views and new perspectives.”
Good performers have that ability too, of course. They invite you in. Hermann Whitfield certainly did that in his playing.
That word "habitation" also brought to mind the beautiful anthem by William H. Harris, Bring us, O Lord God. Another piece of music that makes for a fitting valediction for Herman.
Bring us, O Lord God, at our last awakening
into the house and gate of heaven,
to enter into that gate and dwell in that house,
where there shall be no darkness nor dazzling,
but one equal light;
no noise nor silence, but one equal music;
no fears nor hopes, but one equal possession;
no ends nor beginnings, but one equal eternity;
in the habitations of thy glory and dominion,
world without end. Amen.
John Donne (1572-1631)
Later,
-David