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Bridget Haines Astounds and Shares an Impactful Message in her Senior Recital

By: Phoebe Doscher

        Comments poured in to the livestream chat box minutes before 7 p.m. on Saturday, November 7 as members of the Sunderman Conservatory of Music and the Gettysburg community voiced their support for Bridget Haines ‘21, a music education major performing her senior recital in the Schmucker Recital Hall. Haines entered the stage with her viola in tow, flashing what looked like a huge smile beneath her mask, which she kept on throughout the performance. Over 100 online viewers tuned in—in addition to an in-person audience—and many continued to voice virtual support through the night with intermittent congratulatory interjections and even virtual applause. Haines rallied despite the unprecedented roadblocks of the fall semester, putting on an entertaining and thought-provoking performance that served as an extension of her identity and a vow to make a lasting impact on her future students.

        Anyone who knows Haines has observed her vibrant energy and passion. She beatboxes in an a cappella group, assists students with research at Musselman Library, and brings an unfalteringly positive spirit to the Conservatory, waving hello and chatting as she bounces from practice rooms to classrooms. When Haines entered the stage wearing a vibrant green blouse and flowy pants, with her hair collected in a ponytail, she exuded her usual energy with an extra layer of elegance. Once she moved to position the viola on her shoulder, energy radiated from the tip of the bow to the end of the scroll, and she assumed full command of the space with her infectious ardor. She began with a lively iteration of El príncipe sombrío y los recuerdos de su niñez, a 2011 composition by Sakari Dixon Vanderveer that tells the story of an imaginary prince. Haines enchanted with her ferocity and vigor; she stood center stage, feet planted apart in a commanding stance, and alternated her weight between legs, allowing her entire body to feel the pulse. She performed without a stand for this first piece, and focused solely on herself and the strings, achieving a resonant piano and emphatic forte. Haines fiddled delicately and purposefully, putting concerted effort into each note by pausing carefully between riffs. She showed impressive mastery of the instrument, and achieved both complex harmonies and plucking techniques, though her presence on the stage would have been enough to captivate an audience.

        Dr. Scott Crowne joined Haines for the second piece, Sanctum-Rhapsody for Viola and Piano, a meditative work with spiritual undertones from the Cathedral Pieces set composed in 1995 by esteemed African American composer and educator Adolphus Hailstork. The piano-viola duo worked in perfect balance to give off a pensive and ominous tone. Haines began with a smooth and pleasing solo introduction before Crowne entered with dissonant chords, offsetting her controlled melody. The song had a contemplative tone, and for a second, the improvised interactions between the piano and viola sounded like organized musical chaos, as if two classical pieces began playing simultaneously, the chords dissenting, advancing, and depressing all the while. Crowne and Haines met in quiet compliance for a soft unison section before switching back to their erratic dissonance. The piece was satisfying, yet puzzling to the ear, and Haines continued to enthrall with her impressive performative streak from the previous song. She looked completely enraptured in the music the entire performance, hitting notes that did not sound possible coming from a viola—no less a string instrument—with strong resonance and control, and played to the very last vibration.

        Three members of a string quartet arranged themselves in a socially distant half-circle on the stage for the third set, which featured movements from Florence Price’s 1951 Five Folk Songs in Counterpoint. Haines took the lead in raising her viola to prep the three Gettysburg sophomores—two playing violins and one on the violoncello—and remained in command of the quartet throughout the performance. At first, the songs sounded new, but they became increasingly familiar, giving rise to expectant foot taps and hums in search of the lyrics that have been stored in the depths of phonic memory. Haines and her “BEAN” quartet (named, cleverly, for the initials of their first names) put lively spins on folk songs such as “Clementine” and “Shortnin’ Bread,” both respecting the original tunes and providing a new layer of complexity. The quartet filled the room with advanced, satisfying harmonies, enveloping listeners with comfortable familiarity and impressive resound. They masterfully coordinated their dynamics and hit the very last stroke in perfect unity.

        Haines’s recital program included biographies of each composer, indicating that she crafted her repertoire to purposefully highlight Black composers, two of which are women. In her note about the final piece, Here’s One by William Grant Still, a spiritual sung by enslaved Black Americans to signify resistance and hope, Haines pointed to the relevancy of messages of resilience from Black voices in American history, spanning from the Jim Crow era of segregation to the recent Black Lives Matter movement. Here’s One was her most powerful piece in the set, both in meaning and ferocity. The viola solo had a cutting and pronounced melody with a Southern twang and deep-rooted spiritual repose. Haines harmonized with wonderful fervor and expertise; the song sounded as if made for the voice, but the viola achieved the full span of the range with completeness. Haines, in her program notes, noted the significance of this song as she enters a career in music education: “I end this program with this piece to demonstrate my dedication to make a positive active impact on the future from my position as a musician and educator,” she said. Indeed, Haines is destined to go far with her spirit, skill, and dedication to uplifting marginalized voices, as evidenced in her recital set.

In her senior recital, Haines managed to encapsulate her personality, sum up four years of studying viola performance by highlighting impressive musical technique, and make a broad claim about the importance of listening to and learning from works of Black composers and musicians. 

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