Oh musicians, will you ever learn?

Yesterday at the Divinity School, our Lilly Foundation-sponsored “Border Crossings” program held a conference on Music in American Religious Experience. The conference consumed the last half of my week with planning and running the technology for the event. We brought in two authors (Phil Bohlman and Edith Blumhofer) who wrote a book with the same name as the conference. We also had two separate panel discussions that included performances by the University’s Motet choir and a gospel rap artist named Brother Love.

I almost always cringe when I hear I’m doing tech. support for musicians. It’s rarely enjoyable. This event was no exception. Brother Love, the artist who had the most technical needs was actually the friendliest and the easiest to help. He was very patient as we tested his backup CD with the rest of the system. He was great. Then, in the midst of tearing down his speakers and equipment, came the choir. Like a swarm of ants, they quickly moved into the space, dislodged all that was there before, and remained oblivious to the event they were invading. Even though they sounded beautiful, they had the egos of musicians – which were only amplified by the mob factor.

Here’s another gripe (and I promise my last of the post): for a music conference, I should have had to work as hard as I did to get the presenters to use the microphones! Next time I’m going to rent wireless lapel systems for each of the keynoters and then individual table mics for each panelist. They should know better. Brother Love did. In his panel, he was putting the microphone within six inches of his mouth (GREAT!); on the other side of the table, the panelist had his yellow notepad rubbing against the stand and quickly decided that he needed the microphone further away from him in order to get less feedback. It was just hopeless.

The conference did have an unexpected obstacle. Halfway through Edith Blumhofer’s portion of the keynote, the fire alarm went off. I wouldn’t have thought it nearly as funny had Dan Sack not turned right around, look at me, raise his shoulders and then the entire room collectively realizing that we’d have to leave the building. With sub-freezing temperatures, many people thought to bring their coats, but some didn’t. It was a moment when the intellectual hierarchy at the UofC was flattened: people with PhDs forgot their coats while students were bundled to the brim. Luckily it wasn’t all a disaster: the building didn’t have a fire (somehow the explanation was, “a bird landed on a wire”) and someone had the quick-thinking reaction to have everyone gather in the neighboring Bond Chapel where the keynoters held a Question and Answer session.

One unexpected gift from the fire alarm was to get great pictures of Clark Gilpin, Cynthia Lindner, and Dan Sack. They are notoriously difficult subjects for me to get good, smiling, crisp pictures. While holding open the doors to Bond Chapel, both Gilpin and Cynthia were in a smiling mood. Inside, Dan was making the best out of that mishap and could still manage a smile.

For the second half of the conference, I revolved between my Practicum (Field Education class) and the conference, since I was still doing the tech support while my class was in session. Hopefully the rest of the conference went well. I’ll know soon once I finish editing the audio and video so the Divinity School can make it available in the Ministry Program’s podcast.

The day wasn’t over with the conference, however. Heidi came to Hyde Park and we went with several other members of my class to a surprise party for one of the 2nd-years: Vince Amlin. No fancy words man; congrats on 27! Click through to the gallery and notice at the end that Vince becomes a flasher with my extra Speedlite. Hilarious!

From Vince Amlin 2…