There's a trifecta of conditions for a musician's dream concert: a sold-out concert, a packed house, and a unique venue to bring the music to life. On Friday, May 16th, my friend Patrick and I got to bring our dream to life, and I'd like to share the experience with you.

The Music

Every year, Patrick Jones and I create an art song recital bound by a single theme. In 2023, our program Songs of the People explored the folk song roots of the art song genre. Last year, our recital Triumph Like a Girl showcased music composed by women like Pauline Viardot, Florence Price, and Rene Orth, or lyrics written by women, including Sierra DeMulder and Ada Limon.

This year, our music took a bloody turn with Murder, She Wrote, a collection of art songs, folk songs, and opera arias exploring our fascination with murder. Popular media like true crime podcasts and Dateline murder mystery documentaries are a contemporary phenomenon. Still, their stories follow a centuries-old narrative tradition centered around one horrifying question: "Who could do such a thing?" We wanted our program to shock the audience not only with the content - our opening song tells the story of a serial killer named False Lamkin who graphically murders a mother and her baby - but also with a mirror: we are the people who cannot get enough of this gory storytelling. What are the ethical conundrums of taking delight in the bloody demise of innocent people? Even the music itself knowingly winks at the audience; False Lamkin kills his victims to the tune of an innocent folk song that sounds reminiscent of British hymnody.

Patrick and I believed in the power of this program; we both love horror stories (I'd rather not admit how many times I've seen Midsommar or reread Edgar Allan Poe's short stories). But would our venues agree to host a springtime recital about murder? We started cold calling, and we struck gold.

The local music store agreed to host our concert.

The Episcopal cathedral agreed to host our concert (with a raised eyebrow).

And then, finally, a historic cemetery with Antebellum gravestones invited us to perform our show in the graveyard chapel.

We couldn't believe our luck. It was an immediate yes from us.

The Trifecta Realized

The day before our program, we received an email from our hosts saying that our concert had sold out. Now, I have played to packed houses before and performed for larger audiences than we would have at Elmwood Cemetery. But never before had I played a sold-out show.

It turns out that 50 people were wild enough to pay money to hear a 45-minute set about murder in a graveyard chapel on a Friday afternoon. One of my clients pulled her child - my student - out of school early to attend this show! Who could do such a thing, indeed.

Patrick and I came to the venue energized, knowing that our music was in high demand. We found out later that the cemetery was turning audience members away. However, one crucial matter remained: would these people show up?

Sure enough, the audience arrived. Our hosts had to set out one extra chair to accomdate everyone, so we achieved overflow capacity. Not bad for a Friday afternoon concert on a day when it was threatening to storm.

I looked beyond the amassing audience through the windows into the manicured cemetery, where strong winds whipped through the trees, and gray tombstones were set against the blackening sky. In an instant, I realized the demands of this moment: to play this set of music to the best of my ability and then a little more.

Patrick Jones and I perform to a full house; in the background, an audience of the dead listen in.

Patrick and I were introduced, and we went to the front of the chapel to begin our concert. From the first bar to the final chord, the audience, venue, music, and musicians created magic over those 45 minutes. We heard gasps at the horror of our stories. People whooped after a beloved aria. After one aria where Patrick's character desperately confesses to his crime, a profound silence overcame the chapel for nearly a minute as the spirits of the graveyard held space for the living. After our program, the audience gave us a rousing ovation, and we graciously took our bows.

The Gift of Gratitude

I try not to be overly critical of my performances, and I tend to blow my mistakes entirely out of proportion. There is no such thing as a perfect concert; in 45 minutes of live music, the musicians will make mistakes.

However, I could genuinely say that our performance at this cemetery concert was an honest A+ graveyard smash.

Our performance resulted from proper prior preparation, meeting the luck of the moment: a full house, a killer venue, and dedicated musicians. Our show was a concert experience I'll cherish for a long time.

We perform this show one last time on Sunday, June 8th, 3:00 PM at St. Mary's Episcopal Cathedral. It'd be…criminal if you weren't there.