Magical Strings and Boulding Family News – December 2011 Did you ever wonder how we came up with the name Magical Strings?  It just came to me one day when riding a ferry, shortly after meeting Pam, who was a dulcimer student in the class that I was teaching at the Market School.  I also had begun building small harps and providing them for the students in my harp classes.  It was definitely time to change the name of my business, Dulcimer Workshop.  I wanted the new name to reflect the magic of the music Pam and I were making together on harp and hammered dulcimer. We started performing together almost immediately upon meeting, playing for children in schools and at Seattle Children’s Hospital as well as other venues around town.  As I stood on the bow of the ferry, returning from a solo gig on Bainbridge Island, the wind was singing in my ears and I heard it: Magical Strings! That was more than thirty three years ago.  It takes time to reflect on a third of a century, not to mention the three years it has been since we posted a newsletter on our website.   2011 has been a ‘magical year’ with the highlight being Brittany’s marriage to Prescott Breeden.  It was a glorious event taking place amongst tall firs beside the Hood Canal and overlooking the Olympic Mountains on August 28, which turned out to be the most perfect day of the summer.  All of our five children and six grandchildren along with Philip’s three brothers, Pam’s three sisters, ours and Prescott’s extended family, dear friends and representatives of Brittany’s musical life gathered for a most joyous occasion to be remembered for all time.  Here is a slideshow from the wedding.           At a picnic on Magic Hill the day before, we watched the children play croquet in the pasture,build fairy houses in the woods and swing on the hammock while enjoying a feast created by Brittany’s brothers. It was a full weekend of family and festivities, a year in the making. We took a breather before jumping into our busy fall schedule of building instruments and teaching, Philip at our School of Magical Strings both in our studio in Olalla and on Capital Hill at the Bright Water School where Pam teaches lyre.       We are thrilled now to have Brittany and Prescott happily living in the Northwest, having been on the East Coast for a number of years.  They found a lovely house near Lake Washington which they share with their puppy Wotan, a very large and loving Leonberger. Prescott is growing his business as a top notch dog trainer and animal behavior specialist, while  Brittany  performs frequently with the Seattle Symphony.  She is also Concertmaster of the Auburn Symphony, with whom she will be performing, as soloist, the Shostakovich Violin Concerto on April 28 and 29 in 2012.  She has recently joined the Finisterra Trio, who will be offering some Piazzolla for us at the Seattle Yuletide show on Saturday, December 17th.  Brittany is also Concertmaster for the 5th Avenue Theater production of Rogers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella.  This month when she is not at the 5th Ave, you can find her in the pit at McCaw Hall with PNB’s production of the Nutcracker among other performances-- sixty shows in six weeks! We are lucky to get her for Seattle’s Yuletide at Town Hall. What a treat it has been all year for us to come into Seattle from time to time, meet her for dinner and then see her on stage at Benaroya Hall playing with the Seattle Symphony!   In late October we flew to Rhode Island to visit Marshall on his birthday. He and his twin brother Morgan, both fiery red-heads, were born on Halloween 36 years ago (though they claim to be forever 27) and have been since birth an endless source of creative mischief and merriment. Both are self-employed as builders and designers—Morgan in Philadelphia with his wife Lara (a doctor of osteopathic medicine)—and are much loved by their employees, spreading joy to everyone they meet. Marshall’s wife Abigail is a wonderful 4/5 grade teacher at a school in Barrington, and recently added another master’s degree in mathematics to her own education in the midst of a busy family life on a farm. We went trick-or-treating with eight year old Margaret and five year old Bridget, and in the bitter cold watched them play soccer early one morning.     Geoffrey, our eldest, who also lives in Rhode Island, teaches electron microscopy and manages the bio-imaging facility at Brown University. He has always claimed to combine art with science, and proved it this time with a beautiful gallery showing of his electron microscope photography at Johnson and Wales University's Culinary Arts Museum, where his wife Erin is the collections manager.  He calls his images 'nanoscapes' and they are truly awe-inspiring. These microscopic ‘landscapes’ were created from everyday food items one would find in a kitchen! Here are more.     This season both of their daughters are performing in a production of Nutcracker in Providence, so we’ll miss having them with us at Yuletide. Kailey, 11, has dreamed of having her own harp and received, as a birthday present, a harp that Philip built for her. Before returning home after the summer wedding, she had her first official harp lesson and a second lesson during our visit this fall.  Bright spirited Lindsey at 6 is quite the soccer enthusiast, loves their family dog and everything about life.                         Dance is also a major focus for Brenin’s family.  Here in Seattle granddaughter Rowan (also 11 and only two months older than cousin Kailey) is winning Irish dance competitions along with studying ballet at Pacific Northwest Ballet School; she has performed in their productions of Sleeping Beauty, Mid Summer Night’s Dream, Cinderella and will be cupid in the upcoming Don Quixote. Her father Brenin is busy keeping up with all the dance schedules between daughter and wife Sara's Tara Academy of Irish Dance and his own full time work at Holy Names Academy in Seattle. He is our faithful cellist and juggler for Yuletide—he also happens to be our chief cook for the Magic Hill Summer Harp Camp (link to most recent page), creating legendary feasts that have become an important draw for returning students! Their family comes for the weekend to the delight of all, and Rowan will usually teach some Irish dance steps around the fire circle in the pasture at night.  Sara, along with her full time work in running a dance school, home-schools Rowan and their son Haydn, who is becoming quite the dancer and percussionist in his own right. On his third birthday last March, he received a little drum kit, and proceeded to amaze us all with quite a sophisticated percussion performance. This year he has been seen playing the harp and ukulele on stage at the Yuletide concerts.  It is always wonderful when Brenin, his family and Brittany and Prescott join us on Magic Hill for a family gathering.  How fortunate we are to have at least two of our five children residing nearby.       Magic Hill with its ancient firs and maples standing on the bluff overlooking the Puget Sound is peaceful and in its resting time of year as the Winter Solstice approaches. After a day's work in the shop Philip looks forward to taking our golden retriever, Sir Galahad, for a walk down to the beach. Galahad loves to run up and down the long sandy strand, grouse about in the trees and underbrush; and if he happens to spy seals or otters out in the water, he will leap in and swim after them. He is a creature of love. When we practice our harp and dulcimer in the living room, he likes to be close by waiting for the moment when he can start singing sweetly to the sounds of the accordion and concertina. The same beach below Magic Hill where we walk with Galahad everyday is where we collected many colorful stones for Brittany’s wedding.  The stones were beautifully displayed in baskets and offered to the guests after the ceremony to take to the waters edge and cast into the sea making a wish of happiness for the bridal couple, an old Celtic tradition.             Places where the land meets the sea hold a special significance for us.  After a busy schedule, we like to take Galahad to Cannon Beach for long walks on the vast expanse of sand midst the grandeur of Haystack rock. After Yuletide we will make our annual retreat to the warm sands of Maui for rejuvenation and tropical musical inspiration.               Last spring took us on our annual tour to the east coast, where we performed from New Hampshire to Maryland.  It was a more sobering experience this time, as there were to be no joyful visits with Philip’s mother, Elise Boulding or with sister Christie who lived in the Boston area.  Both passed away within three months of each other in June and September of 2010.  In the spring of that year we had sat by Elise’s bedside as she joyfully listened to our music and stories.  A tireless worker for world peace all her life, she always claimed that we gave peace to the world through our music. She never missed our annual concerts at the Peace Abbey in Sherborn; even within months of her passing, when she was rarely able to leave the facility at North Hill. She came and added brightness and joy with her great-granddaughters surrounding her!  It was a year of both joy and sorrow, yet filled with reflection upon the preciousness of life.   Upon returning home from our tour Pam returned to her lyre students at the Bright Water Waldorf School and prepared them for their end of the year performance.  For the past few years she has joined the troupe of Northwest eurythmists for performances of fairy tales which they take on tour to all the Waldorf schools around the region. Last spring she transformed herself into a Sacred White Cow from India for “The Boy with a Moon on his Forehead” Pam also manages to find time once a week to visit Rowan and Haydn, and take our little prince for walks to the park or the zoo. This Yuletide season, eurythmist and friend Bonnie Freundlich is choreographing a solo work to one of Philip’s earlier harp pieces called “The Stairs”, a lively and mirthful composition inspired by a game our boys used to play when they were young, which involved chasing each other up and down the stairs until, inevitably, one of them would get hurt (they weren’t always the perfect angels you see today…).         Music continues to bless our lives as we work on arranging new music for Yuletide. We're looking forward to the great rolling tide of Yule coming upon us; and seeing many of our friends as we celebrate the light that shines in the darkness! ******** Ireland – September 2009 It was an amazing journey with our dear friends the Crowells from NJ, during which we composed two pieces, The Fairy Wind and Barbara’s Cottage (these appear on our CD Celtic Yuletide Live, 2010).  We followed the footsteps of the 17th century Irish harper Turlough O’Carolan and saw his harp on display at the manor home of the O’Conors.  Our trip culminated with a fantastic excursion out to the Skellig Michael monastic island, a return from our first visit 25 years earlier which inspired the CD Crossing to Skellig.  Below is a piece I wrote about that excursion, with my own personal reflections about the lost hermitage on the north peak of Skellig. Here are more photos from our trip.   Meditation on the Lost Hermitage When Pam and I recently traveled to Skellig Michael, she had a transforming experience, while I experienced what you might call an agonized disappointment.  Oh, not that the place didn’t live up to it’s image in my mind of spiritual majesty and unbridled beauty; but rather, that I did not live up to my own vow, after a thwarted attempt 25 years ago, to scale the south peak to the ‘lost hermitage’.  I have had dreams about this place ever since I learned about it, as if I had been that hermit long ago, longing to return to this very place that stands at the threshold between heaven and earth.  It wasn’t so much the new fence with a warning sign saying “Danger -- NO passage beyond this point!” that thwarted me, although it served as a lame excuse I suppose… but rather, I was genuinely afraid to attempt this perilous and difficult ascent, as I have heard it from various accounts.  My disappointment was only deepened when I heard from a fellow traveler afterward that a couple did ascend the peak together in that same journey out there—and described it as a ‘difficult climb, only suitable for those with rock-climbing skills…’ Well, I had those skills once upon a time back in my Colorado days, but nevertheless… It was interesting how, after our return home, Pam released me from my ‘obsession’, by naming it for what it was—an obsession.  (It also helped, oddly enough, when she told me, upon our descent from Skellig, that I may attempt the climb to the hermitage only after, and if, she dies before I do…).  So there it is.  Two days after our journey to Skellig, a sad and auspicious event took place; an American woman, probably the same age as me, fell from Skellig and died—after which all journeys to the island were put to a halt, for probably a year, for safety review.  Another person had fallen to their death last May.  It is, in fact, a dizzying climb to the summit, where an amazing 5th century enclave of beehive-shaped huts, oratories and passage-ways, built stone upon layered stone, awaits the striving pilgrim and casual tourist alike.  If one looks over the edge of this enclave, it inspires dizziness all over again; not to mention awe for the harsh existence of the monks who built this place, and lived and labored and prayed and sang here so many years ago. So here I am, back on Magic Hill, surrounded by beauty, reflecting on the experience—not only of  Skellig, but of Glendalough, where we visited for the first time at the beginning of this trip to Ireland.  There, the home of St. Kevin in the sixth century is another hermitage one can view from across the lake: a cave thirty feet up a solid rock cliff above the lake.  What is it about the idea of the hermitage that holds such intense interest for me?  In my youth, I often wanted to be alone, but it was a selfish desire that led to great depression for lack of understanding.  Then came my ‘spiritual conversion’, for lack of better words, which was aided by my mother who was well versed in various spiritual and religious traditions. She had even built her own hermitage on the mountain side above our family cabin in Colorado, and spent a year’s sabbatical there. I became intensely interested in the life of St. Francis, and the Desert Fathers before him who, as it turns out, inspired such hermetic traditions in Ireland.  What is the meaning of the hermitage? Obviously, it is a place of solitude; inaccessible, where no one can interrupt one’s meditation upon the divine—where one can thoroughly separate oneself from the throng of humanity, and seek the uniqueness of one’s human-ness in relation to all that is.  I came to realize that, for all these amazing places, the hermitage of today lies not on mountain peaks or in desert caves, but rather within the secret chamber of the heart.  No one may enter accept by permission, and this is only granted from one soul to another, in a most sublime covenant.  The challenge for us now is to find a place of quiet in today’s noisy world, wherein we may enter that inner hermitage at an appointed time, when we need to take refuge for reflection.  Whether on Skellig, or in our own room, it is not an easy place to attain—we confront many obstacles.  But once there, we find a vista over the world, and realize our place within the magnificent cathedral of humanity. ******** Philip Boulding Past Year's letters 2008 2005 2004  2003