5-19 to Manchester, CT

In the morning, Mr. Taylor was present to express a final congratulations and talk shop with one of our fellow organists, Adam Bergstresser.  The surrounding choir members responded by turning the other way and carrying on some other topic of conversation, desperately trying to avoid the scenario in which they are stuck trying to listen in on an incomprehensible dialogue, occasionally nodding their heads in affirmation but sheepishly avoiding eye contact.  It is a phenomenon well known to tourists who assume the populace of their European destination has converted completely to English, as well as golfers who, after a hot afternoon on the course and several Arnold Palmers, accidentally walk past the barbecue buffet and enter in on a physics convention.  One can only redirect the conversation back to the weather so many times; for the record, it has been ideal and sunny thus far, but also cool.  The forecast for the remainder of the week does not look as inviting, but will nonetheless give us something to talk about should our organists convene and say things like "pedal-coupled cornet faburden-flöte three-and-three-quarters."
Our next destination was the South Methodist Church in Manchester, CT, lying approximately 90 miles northeast of our prior location, just outside of Hartford.  At the first rest stop, the choir could be seen in its natural habitat: drinking Starbucks and creating a circle on the grass for a lively game of hackysack. For lunch we went to the Buckland Hills Mall, allowing us to stock up on forgotten items and release any shopping enthusiasm from mid-semester suppression. Meaghan purchased a watch for Mark for his birthday; when I asked what kind it was, she replied, "the one on his wrist."  For the rest of us, the highlight was probably the fro-yo store near the mall's entrance; I was particularly fond of the caramel-filled chocolate turtles that resided briefly in the swirl of nutella-flavored dairy product.
Located off of a main road, our arrival was heralded by the GPS ("Your destination is on the right"), at which point we gathered our things and began our unloading routine.  The church appeared much older than one would assume from its 1925 construction; the former wooden structure was lost in a fire, and the current stone sanctuary was built in the English style with an east-west transept.  It is in the historic center of town, not far from a street of shops that had difficulty when the mall we visited yesterday first opened.  Also nearby are numerous homes built by the Cheney family, wealthy philanthropists who owned the railroad that ran through town in addition to numerous other businesses. A couple of the houses are owned by the church and served community and rehabilitation functions, while others formerly belonged to kin and houseservants of the Cheneys.  It is said that they treated their employees well, and the church certainly benefited from their generosity.

Organist Chris Walton greeted us, introducing us to his wife Tanya (also a prodigious organist) and Earl, the music director.  In addition to his work in the music ministry, Earl taught middle-school chorus and eventually became a principle; currently he mentors masters students at the University of Hartford in administrative and educational leadership. After a focused rehearsal we enjoyed a lasagna dinner, spreading out among the tables in order to get to know our hosts.  All pieces were well-received; our program was shifted slightly, perhaps to help with pacing, but also to end on a more positive note. The joyous Festival Sanctus replaced the arrangement of the exciting but mysterious In the Hall of the Mountain King that concluded last night's program.  Interest was also high: the church's bell choir sat in one of the side balconies next to the built-in handbell tables, and one audience member thanked Kathy for her enlightening explanations of ringing technique and handbell construction.