Stacy Horn

Woohoo! Imperfect Harmony was reviewed in the Atlantic, alongside Jhumpa Lahiri. I seriously love this review. “In this one-of-a-kind celebration of singing with others, I’d call her pitch nearly perfect … The thrill of being caught up in rare and rigorous communion, not just with a composer’s creation but with other voices, is contagious.” Thank you!!

My dragonfly came back. I’m sure it’s the same one. Totally. He missed me.

I looked over and saw this, and I immediately thought: trouble. Usually a scene like this would be followed by Bleecker pouncing on Finney, me jumping up and shouting, “NO!” to Bleecker and “I’m sorry,” to Finney. Sorry for bringing this little terror into his life, for what should have been his peaceful twilight years.

Instead, Bleecker sat as close as possible to Finney, but not too close to make Finney jump off the couch to find another spot to sleep. You can almost see the longing in Bleecker’s eyes. He so wants to be right next to Finney.

Soon, Bleecker was peacefully asleep. No one was more surprised than Finney.

When I first started researching my book, I briefly thought I might parallel 19th century Grace Church choirmaster James Morris Helfenstein with John Maclay, the current choir director of the Choral Society of Grace Church. But Helfenstein was the choirmaster for the vested choir of men and boys, a church choir, and the Choral Society is a community choir. It’s just not the same thing in so many ways.

So I didn’t research him much. But I was at Grace Church the other week, to discuss the talk I’m going to give there on September 29th, when I saw this painting of Helfstein’s wife Lillian. There’s no date, but it has a 1940s noir vibe to it, doesn’t it? It’s also kinda sordid, a little bit Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard. Wait, what is that next to her under her hand? A dog or a fur … something? (Scroll down for more …)

The label on the painting reads: Lillian Spyr Helfstein, Mrs. James M. Helfstein, Painted by Elsie Whitmore Southwick, presented by her son, Gouverneur Morris Helfenstein.

I went back to my notes. Helfenstein took over as organist and choirmaster at Grace Church in 1894, when the Church decided they needed a musical overhaul. I felt a little bad for the existing musical director Samuel P. Warren, who’d been there for 26 years. He’d fought hard for the musical ways established under his direction, but that’s the way of the world, nothing lasts forever. Warren was out, and Helfenstein was in. Under Helfenstein’s reign a choir school was added, the music library was expanded, and music once again flourished at Grace Church.

Helfenstein was a law school graduate of Columbia, and he had a seat on the New York Stock Exchange, so he was giving up a possibly lucrative career. But it looks like there was a lot of family money. Ah, a little bit of Googling and I see he was descended from a Founding Father, Gouverneur Morris (so that’s where his son’s name comes from). Maybe he didn’t need to worry about making a living and could follow his passion, church music.

He and Lillian were married on June 8, 1915, when Lillian was 24 years old and James was 50! Here’s a picture of James. It’s also not dated so I don’t know how old he is here. And …

Here’s a picture of Lillian from a newspaper, a week after they were married. How sad, I just saw that Samuel P. Warren died in October that same year. James’s life continued to blossom and Samuel’s was completely and entirely over. (More below.)

Apparently in 1922, things between Helfenstein and Grace Church went south. In a May 1, 1922 letter to Rev. Charles L. Slattery (who had presided over James and Lillian’s wedding seven years earlier), Helfenstein writes, “From what you said at the conference and your subsequent and frequent notes it is evident that you are not satisfied with my management so I desire to place in your hand my resignation as Organist and Choirmaster of the Church.” It looks like part of the problem was Helfenstein thought the budget for music, which hadn’t been increased for many years, was inadequate. His salary is just fine he says, he is only “deeply interested in music and this School which I created …” William R. Stewart, who wrote a history of Grace Church, tried to intervene, siding with Helfenstein, but he was clearly not successful in mending the rift. Helfenstein had lasted 28 years, just a couple of years longer than Warren.

I found a few letters in the Grace Church Archives from Helfenstein’s son, Gouverneur Morris. In 1973 he donated some materials related to his father and the Church. There’s also some 1984 letters between him and Edyth McKitrick, the Church archivist at the time. Gouverneur thought a Dr. Bowie was responsible for his father’s departure, but Edyth points out to him that Bowie didn’t come to Grace Church until a year after his father left.

I would have loved to interview Gouverneur Morris Helfenstein, but it looks like he died on July 14, 2000. I wonder if he had children?

I found an informal history of the early days of the Grace Church School, written by some of the first choir boys. They had nothing but praise and affection for Helfenstein. James Morris Helfenstein died in February, 1953, and Lillian Helfenstein died in April, 1971.

I recently attended the book party for Emily Croy Barker’s new novel, The Thinking Woman’s Guide to Real Magic. It’s getting great reviews and I can’t wait to read it. From People Magazine:

“Centered on more adult concerns than the Harry Potter books, Barker’s debut is full of allusions to dark fairy tales and literary romances. If Hermione Granger had been an American who never received an invitation to Hogwarths, this might have been her story.”

For now I want to review the cake that was made for the party. Can you believe this is a cake?? It was made by Amy Kolz of Village Cakecraft. Unreal, right? This is a freaking work of art! Just gorgeous. Supernaturally photo-realistic. Scroll down for a picture of the book next to the cake. Mind-blowing.

After my post the other day about Alive Inside (about music bringing people back to life) I remembered a section in Oliver Sacks’s book Musicophilia. He’s describing a group of music therapy patients, people who were like the man in the video I posted yesterday. They are largely uncommunicative and leading what seems to be the saddest, quietest, most solitary existence. Until the therapist starts singing.

“One or two people, perhaps, start to sing along, others join then, and soon the entire group—many of them virtually speechless before—is singing together, as much as they are able to. ‘Together’ is a crucial term, for a sense of community takes hold, and these patients who seem incorrigibly isolated by their disease and dementia are able, at least for a while, to recognize and bond with others.”

It sounds like it’s as dramatic as the man in the video. Another reason to sing as long as you can.

Protesters in Union Square.