Recently, I attended a spring choir concert at a nearby school. It was lovely. The students were well-prepared, they were wearing dresses and tuxedos, their voices blended well, and cut-offs were great. As a teacher I would give them an A for their performance. But as an audience member I felt something that I have not felt for a long time.

Bored.

The songs were fine. Most were modern compositions (nothing composed prior to the mid 1900’s I believe) and a few were very interestingly composed, though most were not. I am ashamed to say it, but for the first time ever I found myself reaching for my phone, responding to emails in my head and examining the building around me for most of each piece. These are all things that I instruct my students not to do during performances. “Stay present!”, I say. “Performing is a relationship, it takes both the performer and the audience to create an artistic experience.” And there I was, hypocritically drifting off the entire time.

Shortly after I this I became a little fixated on trying to figure out why I had this experience and have spent some time of the past few weeks trying to come to a conclusion. As a choir director one of my first thoughts was, “How to do I keep this from happening to people who listen to our choirs?” Maybe it was just me. A failure on my part to live up to my own standards. That is always an easy go-to. I decided to go with that.

But something kept gnawing at me: I don’t have this problem with the choirs at Saint Constantine. Any of them. Why?

Our choirs are fabulous but our performances are rarely perfect. We have two days a week to practice, and we take students at every performance and ability level. We spend lots of time focusing on text and communication with the audience over precision of musical execution. Those two aspects alone can slightly preclude a group from reaching maximum performance capability. But our groups still move me in a way that this group didn’t even come close to with all their well-tuned and well-timed harmonies.

You are warmly invited to join us for A Concert of Hope and Light, our End-of-Year Concert and Art Exhibition, highlighting the beauty and artistic accomplishments of our students across the 3rd grade-College music and visual art programs.
On Friday, May 8, 2026, at 7:00pm, you will see our talented students take the stage at Grace Presbyterian Church (10221 Ella Lee Ln, Houston, TX) for an evening featuring twelve choral and instrumental ensembles. This special performance showcases the dedication, artistry, and collaborative spirit that define our classical education in the fine arts.

The next instinct was again for me to say, it’s just me, but this time referring to the fact that I have a particular relationship with our students, our families, and our school. Of course, their performances would move me emotionally in a different way, we already have a relationship. Right? This is partially why we love and value our loved ones voices regardless of their ability because their voices mean so much more to us. Our mothers’ and fathers’, sisters’ and brothers’ voices literally touch us from before we are born.

But here is the kicker: I am not the only one who feels this way. Our teachers and parents are not the only ones who feel this way. At each concert we have guests who experience our concerts for the first time who have little to know emotional connection to our school and they say the same thing: that there is a feeling they get and they have never experienced before at a concert or another school. Then I realized what it was. It wasn’t just me.

It’s just them.

It’s our students. It is who they are that comes through the music. As my own voice teacher has said to me in the past,

“The voice does not hide things. It can’t.”

All that we are comes out through our voices. All the fear, the sadness, the joy, the excitement. The tension we hold in our muscles is literally felt and heard in our sound. Likewise, so are freedom and the sense of security. Even more, every story, every experience and every conversation that forms us, is heard and felt.

And our students are being well-formed.

We have amazing faculty, both music teachers and non-music teachers who enjoy and support the cultivation of a musical community and an artistic life. A beautiful life. But primarily we have a community and culture which supports learning and living a Good Life. What you are hearing when you come to our concerts is suffering, triumph, diligence, play, contemplation, joy, and relationship. You hear each and every student's character. Through the study of Greek and Latin, Math, Science, Art, Physical Education, Reading, Writing, Discussion, Gardening and Play under the tutelage of some of the most interesting, thoughtful, and intentional teachers, staff, and families, our students are being formed into people the world wants to listen to and hear from.

That is why our concerts are so different. That is why we are so unique. That is why their voices are so special. It is me. It is you. And it really is them.