Celebrating the people, performances, and personal connections that have shaped the New England Philharmonic over five decades.
When I started as Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences at Simmons College (now Simmons University), I excitedly told my husband, Jeff Harman, a cellist, that the New England Philharmonic was an orchestra in residence and that my office would be managing that relationship. I began looking up information about their performances and quickly realized what a gem the NEP was.
Later that first semester, I met Richard Pittman, Jennifer Snodgrass, and John Kessen for lunch at the MFA. I will never forget laying eyes on Dick in his overcoat, wearing a furry hat with earflaps. He seemed the most genteel person, but with a very wry and bemused sense of humor. As we talked about music, the breadth of his knowledge was extraordinary. We all had a wonderful time at lunch, and I knew that the NEP would be a cultural organization to which I would remain dedicated, no matter what.
The first time I heard the NEP perform live was its 2012 performance of Benjamin Britten's War Requiem at the Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul in Providence, Rhode Island. This sprawling production featured the Providence Singers, Chorus pro Musica, and the Boston Children's Chorus, with soloists Sarah Pelletier, Frank Kelley, and Sumner Thompson. I was moved to tears many times by the sheer power of the sound, hearing it in such a sacred space. Once again, I was reminded how art can push us to think about critical issues like conflict, pacifism, and peacemaking.
Every year, I looked forward to the Family Concert and the instrument petting zoo that followed. Most years, my husband Jeff performed, and our grandchildren would attend. I loved watching the children in the audience, sitting in rapt attention—or not!—and seeming to delight in each choice.
One year, Dick invited me to serve as narrator for Umai’s Journey, composed by Richard Cornell. Dick had often said he liked my speaking voice, and he knew I could read music, but the invitation was still a surprise. Of course, I agreed—how could I not?
Not long afterward, my mother passed away, and I was so overwhelmed with sadness that I could not imagine how I was going to do it. How could I convey the wonder, adventure, and intrepid spirit at the heart of the story? When I told Dick that I really doubted I could continue, he quietly assured me that I could. So did Jeff and Jennifer.
Dick came to our home, sat at the piano, and walked through the entire piece with me. He coached, encouraged, corrected, and guided me through it. By the time we arrived at rehearsal with the full orchestra and chorus, I was prepared, though still a bit nervous. Standing by his side, listening to his guidance through each section and hearing the artistry the musicians brought to the work, was powerful and overwhelming—in the best possible way.
On the day of the performance, I was truly shaking in my boots. But once we were assembled on stage and Dick gave me my cue, I took a breath, and off we went. I remember seeing children sitting on the edges of their seats, some of them completely caught up in the story. Narrating Umai’s Journey remains one of my favorite things I have ever done. I still have my laminated sign from the green room with my name on it. It goes up in every workspace I have!
Looking back, I realize how much the NEP has meant to me, not just through its music, but through the friendships, generosity, and shared experiences that have made it such a special part of my life.