logo
A chamber concert aims to break conventions and forge connections

A chamber concert aims to break conventions and forge connections

Boston Globe2 days ago

'Just like Mozart,' quipped Danielle Buonaiuto, a soprano. 'The ink was still wet.'
The moment, a joyous convergence of friends and colleagues, in a way represented the point of the performance they were preparing to put on. As ChamberQUEER's name might hint, all its organizers are LGBTQ+. So are many of the composers of the music they will perform. Making them visible is part of the point, but 'it doesn't stop there,' said Buonaiuto. It's also about a certain spirit that comes from 'existing outside normative structures.'
Get Starting Point
A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday.
Enter Email
Sign Up
By breaking a few longheld classical performance conventions, the group wants to make concert experiences a little less rigid, a little more oddball – or one might say queer.
Advertisement
'We take the methodology of making a concert, the how and the where and the what are we going to do when we get there, and mess with it,' Buonaiuto said.
The BaroQUEER program, at Hibernian Hall in Roxbury on Friday and again in New York City next week, will be performed on period instruments, tuned a half step or so lower than standard modern tuning. The program features Corelli, Handel, and Dowland – but also the 20th-century minimalist provocateur Julius Eastman, the Pulitzer Prize-winning Caroline Shaw, and the aforementioned Glenn-Copeland; an octogenarian transgender Black man and folk singer-turned-synth pioneer, whose 1986 self-released album 'Keyboard Fantasies' found a new audience of millions over 30 years after its creation.
Advertisement
'The overarching theme of the program is: what does historically informed mean? Who are these ancestors we're talking about and how do we relate to them?' said cellist Jules Biber.
Biber, who grew up in Brookline and later moed to New York,
once ran
a chamber series in the back room of Branded Saloon, a Prospect Heights bar and restaurant that proudly advertises to 'Queers, Queens, Allies & EVERYone in-betwixt' on its Instagram biography. ChamberQUEER started out much the same way; with 'low stakes, chill vibes,' she said.
Brian Mummert, cofounder of ChamberQUEER, and Reginald Mobley, at left, rehearsing for the BaroQUEER concert on May 30. (Barry Chin/Globe Staff.)
Barry Chin/Globe Staff
That also applies to the concert rehearsal experience, Biber added. Because the group is project-based, artistic direction and decision-making power doesn't just belong to one person. Rehearsals aren't 'us telling you, 'This is what's happening now, and this is what we're doing.''
Tuesday afternoon rehearsal, at Union Combined Parish on Columbus Avenue, began with the whole group doing Pauline Oliveros's 'Tuning Meditation,' a participatory guided improv exercise in group singing and listening that also happens to be the first piece on the concert program. The audience will be encouraged to sing. That sort of participation, Buonaiuto said, is a 'cheerful, insistent welcome;' they want it to 'joyfully remind each other, we are connected.'
Advertisement
'For H+H folks, this is probably a different process than you're used to,' said Mobley to the circle of 16 musicians, some of whom were new to working with ChamberQUEER.
Earlier at the cafe, Mobley had praised ChamberQUEER's staunch refusal to adhere to the top-down hierarchical model of musical leadership. Since his career went international, he said, he'd noticed Americans in particular 'tend to fall into line, into that very staid structure,' he said. When he's been in a leadership role himself, he's encouraged input from other musicians, and he sometimes finds they just 'sit and wait to be told.'
Mobley feels ChamberQUEER's process might help musicians 'be more open in thinking and making decisions. Being curious and giving yourself permission to just say, 'Hey, what if we tried this?'' He's long wanted to incorporate that approach into his work as a programming consultant for H+H, and when the organization requested a queer-themed program, he saw the chance.
Many of the modern composers on the program were or are openly queer; the Baroque composers are more complicated. Scholars have uncovered various indications that Corelli, Handel and Lully may have had homosexual relationships, but the goal isn't to apply modern terminology to historical concepts of sexuality or identity, Biber said. 'it's not about outing people.'
People tend to 'think of past figures as being two-dimensional, black and white,' like illustrations in an old book, Mobley said. But 'part of being historically informed is understanding history more fully,' Buonaiuto added. 'It's about understanding them as full people who …lived at a time in history.'
'I want us to be able to connect ourselves to that. That's time travel,' Mobley said. 'Handel and Corelli felt pain, felt joy, felt fear. It's emotions that connect us. That's a strong line that connects everyone.'
Advertisement
BAROQUEER: Historically Informed
Hibernian Hall. May 30. 7:30 p.m.
; www.chamberqueer.org
A.Z. Madonna can be reached at

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

Kid's Moana Performance On Delayed Flight Goes Viral
Kid's Moana Performance On Delayed Flight Goes Viral

Buzz Feed

timean hour ago

  • Buzz Feed

Kid's Moana Performance On Delayed Flight Goes Viral

A sweet moment on a plane turned into a "nightmare" for some passengers, and it was all caught on camera. A video that has now generated nearly 30 million views, captured by TikTok user @druziroaming, shows a young girl providing some in-flight entertainment as she sang the Oscar-nominated/Grammy Award-winning song "How Far I'll Go" from Disney's Moana. The girl is seen passionately giving the performance of her life for nearly two minutes. She sang into the aircraft's phone as it played over the intercom for everyone to hear. A flight attendant stood close by to ensure it went smoothly. "When your Delta flight is delayed 2 hours and you circle Orlando for another 2," @druziroaming captioned his video. "Butt then a little girl sings Moana on the crew mic and suddenly everything feels okay." You can hear some people humming and singing along, while others turn around to smile at the young karaoke star. Now, when it comes to flight delays, it's normal for passengers to get annoyed and disgruntled, especially if it lasts for two or more hours. So, I think it's adorable that she wanted to help ease the tension by providing some joy through music. I also love seeing kids show so much confidence at such a young age. But not everyone shared my view. The video received over 120K comments, and lets just say the responses varied: How do you think you would've responded? Also, do you think you would have been able to perform in front of a packed plane? Let me know in the comments!

How a Times column about loquats became required high school reading
How a Times column about loquats became required high school reading

Los Angeles Times

timean hour ago

  • Los Angeles Times

How a Times column about loquats became required high school reading

This month saw your humble columnist notch two huge literary achievements, the kind ink-stained wretches dream about. I was a Pulitzer Prize finalist in the commentary category for my coverage last year about the political evolution of Latinos, making me just the third-ever Latino to achieve that distinction. Maybe even more impressive, however, was that portions of a column I wrote a few years ago became mandatory reading for hundreds of thousands of high schoolers across the country. The occasion was the AP English Language and Composition exam, that annual ritual for smarty-pants high schoolers that allows those who get a great score to earn college credit. The exact column, you may ask? Not the subject of my Pulitzer finalist nod, or my arcane stuff, or my street-level coverage of Southern California life. Or even my rants against In-N-Out, which is overrated. Nope, the subject was… loquats. The small, tart fruit currently ripening on trees all across Southern California, which forever puzzle newcomers and delight longtimers and squirrels. In 2021, I wrote a columna arguing that loquats, not citrus or avocados, are our 'fruit MVPs' because they're so ubiquitous and beloved by many of SoCal's immigrant groups, including Latinos, Asians, Armenians and more. The piece also ridiculed an East Coast reporter who alleged that no one eats loquats in Southern California. I'm very proud of it, but if I were to use one of my columnas to test college-bound high school seniors on their mastery of analysis and rhetoric, I wouldn't have used that one. Someone tell that to CollegeBoard, the nonprofit that administers the Advanced Placement exams along with the SATs. I found out about my columna's inclusion last week after the second round of AP English tests concluded. Friends of mine texted me that their children who took it were bragging to friends about how they knew the 'loquat guy.' Students across the country took to TikTok to shout me out. Some called it their favorite reading prompt. Others ridiculed my columna's description of a loquat tree heavy with fruit as 'glow[ing] like a traffic cone' or my stance that people who say no one eats loquats is an affront to Southern California's 'culinary soul.' Still others wondered what loquats were in the first place, how did they taste and where could they buy some. In response, I created a TikTok account and filmed a short video of me silently staring at the camera while eating a loquat from my 4-year-old tree, which gave fruit for the first time this spring. 'Hello I'm Gustavo Arellano the Loquat King,' a caption read. 'What loquat questions can I answer?' 180,000 views later, I'm a TikTok loquat star. But what exactly the AP test asked students about my piece remains a mystery. A friend's kid told me test takers were required to read a passage from my piece in the multiple-choice section and then answer questions about 'word choice, claims, examples used, figurative language' and the like. (I'm granting anonymity to the kid because CollegeBoard's exam policy states that anyone who shares any content from exams that haven't been publicly released will have their test scores 'canceled, no retest will be permitted, and you may be banned from future testing.' Gosh, can't you just give them detention?) A CollegeBoard spokesperson declined to share the test questions about loquats with me because students are still taking it. They also asked I 'not disclose any information about them' because CollegeBoard sometimes uses the same questions in future tests 'and when information about them is shared, we have to discontinue their use.' Too late! I'm flattered, CollegeBoard. I'm not even angry that you didn't bother to at least give me a head's up. But I guess it's par for the course: Although I did take AP English at Anaheim High with Ms. Sinatra, I skipped out on the test because I figured it was for dorks and goody two-shoes and I didn't think I was either. Oh, how wrong I was. I'll stuff my sorrows by eating a bunch of loquats this weekend, because no one else eats them. Gustavo Arellano, metro columnistKevinisha Walker, multiplatform editorAndrew Campa, Sunday writerKarim Doumar, head of newsletters How can we make this newsletter more useful? Send comments to essentialcalifornia@ Check our top stories, topics and the latest articles on

Afro Mexican actors fighting racism celebrate their heritage through their plays
Afro Mexican actors fighting racism celebrate their heritage through their plays

Yahoo

time2 hours ago

  • Yahoo

Afro Mexican actors fighting racism celebrate their heritage through their plays

TICUMÁN, México (AP) — There was something about her body, but Mexican actress Eréndira Castorela couldn't quite put her finger on it. Some casting directors told her she was 'too tall' to play a Mexican woman. Others insinuated her features weren't sufficiently 'Indigenous.' 'It wasn't until later that I discovered what it means to recognize oneself as Afro,' said Castorela, who subsequently confirmed her African ancestry. 'We are a diverse community which, perhaps due to discrimination, doesn't identify as such.' Her life changed after she joined Mulato Teatro, a theater company that empowers actors of African descent who are eager to forge a career despite racism. However, like most Afro Mexican activists, Castorela believes that nationwide recognition is still a long way off. 'If we look around, we'll see curly hair, high cheekbones, full lips or dark skin,' the 33-year-old said. 'But there's a wound that prevents us from recognizing ourselves.' The Afro Mexican lineage Unlike the United States, where there have been concerted efforts to boost awareness of the Black history, acknowledging Black people in Mexico has received little support. 'The concept of mixed race denies the cultural diversity that defines us as Mexicans," said María Elisa Velázquez, a researcher at the National School of Anthropology and History. "We are not only Indigenous, but also European, African and Asian.' It is well known that the Mesoamerican lands conquered by the Spaniards in the 16th century were inhabited by Indigenous people, resulting in mixed-race marriages and births. Less noted is the fact that some mixed-race Mexicans are partly descended from enslaved Black people. According to Velázquez, the evolution of communities incorporating Black people depended on their geographic location. 'Much of the Afro-descendant population established relations and coexisted alongside different Indigenous groups, resulting in very heterogeneous communities,' she said. Official figures from 2024 estimate the Afro-descendant population in Mexico is 3.1 million, mainly residing in the states of Guerrero, Morelos, Colima and Quintana Roo. While most identify as African Mexican, nearly two-thirds also perceive themselves as Indigenous. Finding her true identity Castorela — born in Morelos, a state neighboring Mexico City — recalls looking through family photo albums after first wondering if she had African ancestry. The features of her relatives left no room for doubt. 'I also realized we had created a narrative that concealed our origins,' she said. 'There was always someone saying: 'But there was a blond person in the family,' or 'Grandma had finer features.'' Castorela may not have curly hair and her skin tone may not resemble that of other Afro women, but she said her body never lied. When she was a young actress taking ballet classes, she felt constrained and uncomfortable. It wasn't until she joined African dance classes that the choreography was ideal for her height, weight and soul. 'I feel much freer because there's openness and movement,' she said. 'Identifying as African Mexican has given me the mental and spiritual peace I needed to realize there is a place where I can reflect myself.' A struggling career The theater company where Castorela and two dozen other artists collaborate was founded in the early 2000s by another Afro woman who struggled to excel as a Black actress in Mexico. Born in Colombia, a South American country where around 10% of the population is Black, Marisol Castillo said she had no clue her physical features would hinder her career. But after falling in love with Mexican playwright Jaime Chabaud and moving to his hometown, everything changed. 'Some want to force us to fit a mold, a white mold,' Castillo said. 'And when we differ, we're told: 'You're a bad actor, you're out of tune.' But we're just different.' Casting directors mostly offered Castillo roles as prostitute, exotic dancer, maid or slave. So she teamed up with Chabaud, and 'Mulato Teatro' was born. 'There was very little openness and awareness,' Chabaud said. 'So I started writing plays for her.' Tales of African and Mexican heritage The themes of Chabaud's plays are as diverse as the actors who bring his characters to life. 'African Erotic Tales of the Black Decameron' draws inspiration from oral traditions, fusing the worldview of African communities. 'Yanga" portrays a real-life 17th-century Black hero who is considered a liberator in the Mexican state of Veracruz. Among the topics inspiring Chabaud are not only African legends or characters, but stories closer to home. 'Where are you going, Mr. Opossum?' tells the tale of a 'Tlacuache,' an ancient creature from Mesoamerican mythology. In Chabaud's play, the Tlacuache steals fire from a goddess to save humanity from hunger and darkness. The creature has no divine powers, but his ability to play dead enables him to sneak past the Jaguar, a deity safeguarding the flames. 'Jaime always tells us that we should all worship Mr. Tlacuache instead of other deities,' said Aldo Martin, playing the leading role. Martin, 28, does not identify as Afro, but feels the company's work successfully portrays Mexico's diversity. 'Our ancestors are not only Indigenous, but a fusion, and these mixed heritages have resulted in a very distinct society, made of all colors, which shouldn't pigeonhole us into just being Afro,' Martin said. Diversity is welcomed at Mulato Teatro Castillo and Chabaud primarily encourage Afro-Mexican artists to work in their plays, but they also welcome amateur actors and LGBTQ+ performers. One of them is transgender actress Annya Atanasio Cadena, who began her career in plays addressing topics such as suicide, alcoholism and drug addiction in marginalized communities. 'In my (LGBTQ+) community, we know what it's like to fight against the world,' said Atanasio, who plays a trans woman in one of Chabaud's plays about gender violence. 'I'm very moved to have been given the chance to become part of this space, which also heals me,' she added. "We can show that we exist and we are more than just a story. We are bodies, desires, feelings, and the pain we carry.' Dreams of an unknown land There's a special play written and directed by Castillo: 'Dreaming of Africa.' Although she has not been able to trace the exact roots of her ancestry, her work and community make her feel closer to a long-lost home. 'When we, people from the same ethnicity meet, we call each other 'brother,'' Castillo said. 'After all, we came from the same ports.' She said she'll never forget a presentation of 'Dreaming of Africa,' when a girl from the audience approached her. 'She could barely speak, so we hugged,' Castillo said. 'Then she said: 'Thank you for telling me I'm pretty, for making me feel my worth'.' Castillo, too, learns something about herself as she acts, writes and directs. It's like peeling an onion, she said, taking layer by layer to reveal what's underneath. 'I grow with each play,' Castillo said. "I feel prouder of my roots, knowing that I can move away from stereotypes like playing a prostitute or a witch. That I, too, can be a queen.' ____ Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP's collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store