Arts & Entertainment
SPRING ARTS 2018 CLASSICAL: A new spin on Durufle’s ‘Requiem’
Gay Men’s Chorus director revoices famous work

The Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington has a busy spring. Although the chorus has always interspersed classical selections in with its contemporary, more LGBT-themed material, it has done more classical major works in recent years. (Washington Blade file photo by Michael Key)
Classical music is funny when it comes to LGBT stuff — on one hand, it’s no big deal. Nobody cares if the talent is there. Yet sometimes it’s taken to such an absurd degree that it feels disingenuous. Or the artists sometimes feel talking about their personal lives will cheapen their art or dilute its impact in an arena where it’s not supposed to matter.
All that to say — comb through the classical spring concerts coming up and there’s very few LGBT themes or personnel to point to. And yet many folks active in that world say our regional orchestras, opera companies and choirs are just as healthily outfitted with gays as the rest of the city. Maybe not quite as high in number as, say, the uber-queer D.C. theater community, but not off by much. It’s anecdotal so yeah, take it with a grain of salt, but that’s what you go by when there are no hard numbers available.
The gayest classical concert this season by far comes from an unlikely source — our Gay Men’s Chorus. While their musical chops have never been questioned — they’re enjoying a rich new era under the direction of Artistic Director Thea Kano — the fact that they do so much Broadway, camp, music-with-a-message, pop covers, you name it really, folks who love the classical canon around here tend to gravitate to local choirs (and there are many) that stick to the traditional repertoire.
It’s even a “thing” in the chorus. Kano, with a chuckle, refers to the “SMQs” (i.e. “serious music queens”) in the massive choir. Those SMQs, she says, were giddy with delight when she told them one of their 2018 concerts was a new tenor/bass arrangement of Maurice Durufle’s “Requiem.” The Chorus performs it this weekend (Saturday, March 3) at 8 p.m. at the Church of the Epiphany (1317 G St., N.W.). Tickets are $60. Full details at gmcw.org.
Kano, as big an ally as it gets, was in her third year of graduate school at UCLA in 2003 working on an advanced conducting degree when she first became aware of the famous “Requiem,” or “Mass for the dead.” She and her mentoring professor were considering ideas for what she might do her dissertation on and he suggested the “Requiem.”
“He said the Durufle ‘Requiem’ and I was like, ‘The who, the what?,’” Kano says. “He said, ’Shame on you,’ and sent me home with a bunch of CDs. I put the first one in and was just moved to tears. There’s something just glorious about it.”
It did become her dissertation piece and longtime chorus accompanist Teddy Guerrant suggested she adapt it for tenor-and-bass chorus.
“He actually kept bugging me about it over the years,” Kano says.
She had contacts with the Durufle Association (the composer, who was straight, died in 1986; the “Requiem” premiered in 1947) and went to Paris last summer to do the work of actually transcribing the nine-movement, about 40-minute piece, a process she says was, yes, tedious at times, but a process akin to working on a crossword puzzle that she came to love.
Composed for soprano-alto-tenor-bass (SATB) chorus with occasional divisi, Kano adapted it for tenor 1, tenor 2, baritone and bass (TTBB) a process that in many cases was as simple as taking the soprano and alto parts down an octave, although that wasn’t feasible in all places. It’s in the same key as the original; the same orchestral and organ accompaniments Durufle wrote are being used. Soprano Breanna Sinclaire (a trans Baltimore native who’s making a name for herself as an opera soloist) will perform the fifth movement, “Pie Jesu.”
“There are some passages where the sopranos (in the original) have the melody and they’re up in the rafters but now it’s been assigned to the baritones and it’s … kind of more smushed in there so we had to really bring the other sections’ volumes down and bring the other up to make sure it’s voiced so that what is prominent stands out to the ear of the audience,” Kano says. “The first few times I heard it live in the TTBB, I was like, ‘Wow, this sounds like Durufle but different.’ We’ve been working on it about seven or eight weeks and I think it’s just glorious. The audience is in for a real treat.”
Kano was delighted that about 140 of the chorus’s 300 (give or take) members signed on for the concert (they’re not required to). She was concerned some members who enjoy the more camp/pop stuff might not be up for such a major work from the classical canon, although the chorus has in previous years done adaptations of major works such as the Faure “Requiem” and “Carmina Burana.”
Because the “Requiem” was written in a style based on Gregorian plainchant (traditionally sung by male singers), the TTBB version required no great musicological backflips. And Kano says the majesty of the piece transcends its Christian text. If it seems an odd choice for the chorus, which specializes in more rah-rah-gay-type contemporary repertoire (although they’ve always done classical works as well), Kano says it’s its own statement of equality.
“Just the fact that we’re out as an LGBT chorus standing there and singing anything, you know, the stereotype of what the classical snobby choruses can do, just shows that we can raise our voices any way we feel is appropriate for our abilities. It puts us on the map that yes, we can sing anything and hopefully the audience will agree.”
Chorus member Tim Gillham, a tenor who joined the group in 2014, had previously sung the “Requiem” in the traditional voicing and said it’s been “truly a joy” to rediscover it in Kano’s version.
“Thea’s treatment brings an added depth and warmth to the work, which is especially appropriate for a ‘Requiem,’” he says.
“It’s been a total treat to have Thea work us through the music sections and share and feel her true passion for the music,” says Ed Oseroff, a bass who’s been with the Chorus since 2000. “I hope the audience will sit back, relax and let the emotion and power of the music take them away.”
As usual, it’s a busy spring for the Chorus. Its “Make America Gay Again” concert is Saturday, March 17; small ensembles’ “Extravaganza” is Saturday, April 14 at the Barns at Wolf Trap and “Transamerica,” a show about trans issues that will also feature Sinclaire, is June 2-3. Full details at gmcw.org.
The weekly drag show “Daddy Issues” was held at Kiki on Wednesday, Aug. 5. Performers included Evry Pleasure, Indiana Bones and Tiara Missou-Sidora.
(Washington Blade photos by Landon Shackelford)









Books
Something’s off about Dad. When is it time to step in?
‘When Memory Fades’ can help when families face dementia
‘When Memory Fades’
By Nathaniel Chin, MD
c.2026, St. Martin’s Essentials
$30/422 pages
Mom called you in a panic the other day.
She’d lost her keys and by the time you arrived to help, she’d found them. In the refrigerator.
These kinds of things keep happening, not often but often enough, and you don’t know quite what to worry about. But in the new book “When Memory Fades” by Nathaniel Chin, MD, you’ll learn about the journey ahead, for both of you.
You can’t remember why you walked into a room. You got lost last week, going to the bank. Popular wisdom says that things like that are normal as we age, but Chin says that’s not true – although the answer may not be a worst-case scenario, either. Yes, memory problems could just be signs of stress, dehydration, or lack of sleep – or is it time to see a doctor?
Chin says maybe, yes.
He was working his way through medical residency when his father, a geriatrician in Madison, Wisc., was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Chin, now a geriatrician, was blindsided, but that diagnosis also changed his life.
Here, he writes about the brain, and how Alzheimer’s and dementia are diagnosed, explaining that dementia has many faces and, depending on a doctor’s evaluation, memory problems might be slowed or improved. He shares his father’s illness with readers, but he also writes about his mother, a steadfast, steady caretaker.
Her story reminds reader-guardians to care for themselves, too.
Know how to talk the talk, so that you can have “a more productive” conversation with your doctor. Understand that there’s nothing “normal” about dementia or Alzheimer’s. Know the statistics – African Americans are affected with dementia twice as much as whites – and know how to lower your risks. Learn here what questions to ask, how to break the news to everyone, and any legal matters that will be important soon. And know how to tend to you.
Says Chin, “The best action you can take is to educate yourself… The more you understand, the better equipped you are to make sound judgments.”
Something’s off about Dad, just a lot of little things that don’t add up. When is it time to step in? “When Memory Fades” can help you decide.
Wise, wide-spread, comprehensive, and compassionately helpful, this is a book you can read and then take it to the doctor with your loved one. It’s a book that makes sense when nothing else does, and its biggest feature is that it smoothly transitions from easy-to-grasp science and charts, to gentle coaching for caregivers. Author Nathaniel Chin, MD writes with storytelling, humility, grace, and experience from both sides of the Alzheimer’s/dementia issue, and his words are reassuring but also urgent. Learn, but don’t wait, he says. Know how to safeguard yourself. See your doctor, and don’t fear testing. Watch for signs of depression. And never, ever stop asking for help.
Read those last seven words, and find “When Memory Fades” now. It’s a book to have on your shelf, whether you’re 45 or 95 because, as you’ll see, dementia happens and knowledge is key.
Books
New book chronicles gay man’s life in hippie commune
Vietnam War-era tale a serious, sexy, joyous memoir
‘Qtopia: A Memoir of Love, Land and Liberation’
2026, University of Wisconsin Press
By Juda Bennett
Duffel packed, the new high school graduate could not fall asleep. “On the night before my departure, I stared at the duffel bag as if it were a body bag. We lived close to Dover, where the dead from Vietnam were shipped.”
It is 1971, and Charles was leaving home to join a hippie commune in rural Virginia. “I kept imagining bodies fitting into the bag and popping out in the middle of the night,” Juda Bennett writes in his memoir, “Qtopia: A Memoir of Love, Land and Liberation.” During Bennett’s high school years from 1968-1971 some 35,000 U.S. soldiers were killed in the Vietnam War, the vast majority processed at Dover Air Force Base.
Young Bennett was clueless about what lay ahead but he had a commune’s brochure in his pocket, certain his destiny was not in the military. “My father was a walking recruitment center, and my mother could have worked for the USO. Uncle Sam and the Andrews Sisters had nothing on them.” Inspired to find his way out of suburban Wilmington, Del., he boarded a Greyhound bus to Lexington, Va., and communes yet unknown. “Qtopia” is a serious, sexy and joyous memoir about a young man who knows he’s different in search of chosen family and, over coming decades, his own queer Utopia.
“We are leaving; you don’t need us,” was the popular refrain in the day from the Crosby, Stills & Nash song “Wooden Ships.” Communards like young Charles (going by the moniker C.B. with a full beard covering his handsome, androgynous features) were living it. How far this is from urban queer stories of the ‘70s. For this reason alone, it is marvelous reading about hot naked hippies farming together in the country, living and loving in secluded teepees when everything seemed possible. Novels like “Drop City” by T.C. Boyle (2003) and “Arcadia” (2012) by Lauren Groff set in hippie communes had no gay characters, only free-love for straights. When C.B.’s parents arrive to visit his back-to-the-land commune North Mountain bearing gifts like the orange powder Tang and Frosted Flakes, he “maintained” as the saying went. “It was a great time for visitors to see how hard we had worked—fields of sorghum swaying in the breeze, acres of vegetables in neat rows with beans, tomatoes and peppers hanging down….I was still thin as a matchstick, but I was a strong and muscular matchstick,” he tells the story of his development. By contrast, he had considered suicide before leaving home; this memoir fills in the pain, too.
There are times when C.B.’s voice as a teen communard with a secret is so authentic and rich, it is like reading fictional stories of American innocents on journeys of their own like J.D. Salinger’s character Holden Caulfield or Demon Copperhead from rural Virginia by Barbara Kingsolver. He tells us there was this guy Mark at North Mountain who had been pressuring him to sleep on the mattress next to his. C.B. was known as the only gay at North Mountain. One of the hippie women warned him Mark is “a square, the biggest downer.” Stepping out of the memoir, C.B. directly addresses the reader about the Mark issue, “I don’t want to write about Mark anymore because he’s not important to my story, and I didn’t even like him.” Got it. Hitchhiking with C.B. is like that, too.
“I got my best ride of the whole hike from a truck driver named TJ….If an eighteen wheeler…is willing to stop for you, it is because the driver wants something from you…I will forever remember this trucker as the most beautiful man I could have had sex with if I weren’t so innocent.”
North Mountain required the hippies work one week a month in Richmond to earn cash for the commune. For C.B., this translated into seven communards living in one small apartment on this cultish mission. It was in a Richmond park where he meets a stranger who would sexually abuse him over a month until C.B. ends it. Furious, the man threatens to shut down the commune if he does not obey. In a state of panic, C.B. attempts suicide by overdosing on every pill he can get his hands on. The memoir takes the reader through the author’s horror by deepening the shadows. What was the specific nature of the abuse? How did this stranger have credible power to threaten the commune? Entitled “What It’s Like to Die,” the chapter is a skillfully told, expressionistic turning point from an innocent’s hell to salvation at the intentional queer Lavender Hill commune in Central New York. C.B. desperately needed to “find my people.”
He’s a resilient young man after living in three communes by the time he hit San Francisco. His two gay neighbors on Ashbury Street—Crow and Moonsnake—pressure him to get a new “hippie name.” Walking home from Golden Gate Park he zeroes in on a passing streetcar, “North Judah.” Goodbye “Charles,” Judah will be his new hippie name. Crow and Moonsnake, approve: “If that’s what the Universe called out to you.” If you remember the Sixties…
“Too often,” Bennett writes, “we think of dropouts as withdrawing from life, but in truth, I think they are in a heightened state of seeking their rightful path and purpose. Nothing stays the same.” Juda Bennett remains a believer to this day, “Always putting my faith in my journey to Utopia”.
(Charles Francis is president of the Mattachine Society of Washington, D.C., and author of “Archive Activism: Memoir of a ‘Uniquely Nasty’ Journey.”)
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