UPPER SCHOOL
ADVENT ARTS EVENING

Stars

Friday, December 6, 2024
7:00 p.m.  Hickory Auditorium



Where are we?
How large is our cosmic context and how tiny are we in it?
Anyone out there?
 
The ancients used to think of the earth as the steady given and the moving heavenly bodies as the ever-circling points of light. Many societies sought meaning and guidance from stars and plotted their lives and plans accordingly. Biblical references to stars abound: God’s dwarfing invitation to childless Abraham to try to count the stars as indicators of the number of his coming descendants; David hearing divine “speech” from both daylit and night-darkened skies; Persian magi pursuing an unusual star westward in search of a royal prophecy fulfilled; Revelation stars plunging from the heavens at the Last Day; the “morningstar” rising in our hearts.
 
On this Advent night, we will consider stars in many ways: musically, poetically, visually. They will speak to us of both our smallness and our importance. They will position us in time and space, while also ceaselessly moving themselves. Fittingly for Advent, they will glimmer out of the dark reaches of space, points of hope amidst uncertainty. God’s quiet, nightly “fiery messengers.”
 
May some strains of the “music of the spheres” land on your listening heart tonight. And may the Creator of the morning stars assure you personally and cosmically that “All is well.”
We have seen his star in the east and have come to worship him…



Concert Program

Thaxted
Gustav Holst
Honors Ensemble 

This is a hymn tune by Gustav Holst and is the middle section of Jupiter from The Planets. Taking almost three years to compose, The Planets is a seven-movement orchestral suite with each movement composed to characterize each planet in our Solar System. This particular theme was said to represent nobility and generosity and has been adapted to texts including “O God, Beyond All Praising.”

Once in Royal David’s City
C F Alexander, H Gauntlett;
arranged by US Ensemble Honors Ensemble
This English carol from the mid-nineteenth century was included in the Anglican Christmas Eve service of Lessons and Carols from 1919 onward. It remains the traditional processional opening the rest of the evening. Students from the Honors Ensemble did the arranging for our version.

Whoever Welcomes
Malcolm Guite
Elisabeth  Brissett, Reader

‘Welcome’, the word is always on your lips,
Each welcome warms another one inside,
An interleaving of relationships,
An open door where arms are open wide.
First welcome to the child and through the child
A welcome to the Saviour of the world
And through the Saviour’s welcome all are called
Home to the Father’s heart. Each call is curled
And nested in another, as you were
Nested and nestled in your mother’s womb,
As Mary carried One who carried her,
And we are wrapped in you, deep in the tomb,
Where you turn our rejection into welcome,
And death itself becomes our welcome home.
 
Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence
Traditional Hymn “Picardy”  arr Duane Funderburk
String Quartet

Zoe Levesque - violin
Annie Brooks - viola
Stella Gustafson - cello
Sophie Wayner - piano

Bright Morning Stars
Kentucky Folk Song; arr. Jay Althouse
Vocation
Soloists: Zoe Levesque, Kelly Johnson, Rylan Frazier
An Appalachian family struggles with a wayward-now-repentant father and a mother’s death. But there remains a fierce hope: “Bright morning stars are rising…. Day is breaking in my soul.”

To Bless the Space Between Us
John O’Donohue
Carrie Meadors, Reader

When the rhythm of the heart becomes hectic,
Time takes on the strain until it breaks;
Then all the unattended stress falls in
On the mind like an endless, increasing weight.
The light in the mind becomes dim.
Things you could take in your stride before
Now become laborsome events of will.
Weariness invades your spirit.
Gravity begins falling inside you,
Dragging down every bone.
The tide you never valued has gone out.
And you are marooned on unsure ground.
Something within you has closed down;
And you cannot push yourself back to life.
You have been forced to enter empty time.
The desire that drove you has relinquished.
There is nothing else to do now but rest
And patiently learn to receive the self
You have forsaken in the race of days.
At first your thinking will darken
And sadness take over like the listless weather.
The flow of unwept tears will frighten you.
You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.
Take refuge in you senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.
Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.
Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.
Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
Be excessively gentle with yourself.
Stay clear of those vexed in spirit.
Learn to linger around someone of ease
Who feels they have all the time in the world.
Gradually, you will return to yourself,
Having learned a new respect for your heart
And the joy that dwells far within slow time.
Largo from Winter
Antonio Vivaldi arr. Morris
Honors Ensemble

Soon to celebrate its 300th birthday, Vivaldi’s Four Seasons is by far one of his most famous works. The second movement, Largo, contains an appendix in the score and reads “to rest contentedly by the hearth, while those outside are drenched by pouring rain.”

Gabriel’s Annunciation
Jan Richardson
Zoe Levesque, Reader

For a moment
I hesitated
on the threshold.
For the space
of a breath
I paused,
unwilling to disturb
her last ordinary moment,
knowing that the next step
would cleave her life:
that this day
would slice her story
in two,
dividing all the days before
from all the ones
to come.
The artists would later
depict the scene:
Mary dazzled
by the archangel,
her head bowed
in humble assent,
awed by the messenger
who condescended
to leave paradise
to bestow such an honor
upon a woman, and mortal.
Yet I tell you
it was I who was dazzled,
I who found myself agape
when I came upon her—
reading, at the loom, in the kitchen,
I cannot now recall;
only that the woman before me—
blessed and full of grace
long before I called her so—
shimmered with how completely
she inhabited herself,
inhabited the space around her,
inhabited the moment
that hung between us.
I wanted to save her
from what I had been sent
to say.
Yet when the time came,
when I had stammered
the invitation
(history would not record
the sweat on my brow,
the pounding of my heart;
would not note
that I said
Do not be afraid
to myself as much as
to her)
it was she
who saved me—
her first deliverance—
her Let it be
not just declaration
to the Divine
but a word of solace,
of soothing,
of benediction
for the angel
in the doorway
who would hesitate
one last time—
just for the space
of a breath
torn from his chest—
before wrenching himself away
from her radiant consent,
her beautiful and
awful yes.

Ave Maria
Franz Biebl
Vocation
Soloists: Henry Waldruff, Jonathan Olson, Rylan Frazier

Franz Biebl’s setting of the Magnificat-based “Ave Maria” reaches back to medieval chant and the a capella choristers of Gothic cathedrals. But it was actually composed in 1964!  Some of the unusual harmonies and chord progressions hint to its modernity. Can beauty ache? It certainly does in this motet.

After Annunciation
Madeleine L’Engle
Henri Lepage, Reader

This is the irrational season
When love blooms bright and wild.
Had Mary been filled with reason,
There’d have been no room for the child.

Grandmothers of Christmas: Tamar
Original monologue
Melissa Petroski, Reader

Matthew begins his gospel with a selected genealogy of Jesus, the famous “begats.” Though this was a not-uncommon way to introduce an important person, what is surprising is Matthew’s inclusion of four important women from Jewish history, Tamar, Hagar, Ruth and Bathsheba, the “Four Grandmothers of Christmas.” Even beyond the fact that they were women in a largely patriarchal social history, their stories signal loud and clear Matthew’s intent to describe what exactly God was up to in the coming of Immanuel, God with Us, Jesus. Listen to these four monologues for hints of just what kind of a kingdom Jesus would inaugurate.
_________________________
My name is Tamar.  Great great…grandmother of Jesus.  I am a Caananite who was given in marriage to a Jew.  That’s the first rule that was broken; wait till you hear the rest of them! A Hebrew and a Canaanite: their god forbids marriage with us.  But, there I was, married to a wicked, hateful man who gets struck down, killed by his own god!  Then, according to the Levirate law, their law, I was made to marry his brother.  And he was selfish and greedy and well, …wicked too, so he was also struck down.  This law is supposed to provide for women so they aren’t abandoned, homeless and penniless when their husbands are struck… I mean, die…but my father-in-law, Judah, wouldn’t give me to his third son!  Did he think that son would die too?  Like I was some kind of “black widow?” But looking at my track record, who could blame him?  But really, was I supposed to wait for that third son to grow up?  I’d be too old by the time he was ready, and what was I to do in the meantime? So their father, Judah, sent me back to my father’s house to remain a widow, a double widow.  Used and abandoned.  That conniving bast—…  
I could not, would not accept that fate! Over my dead body, — or the 2 dead bodies…  What would you do? Slink back and be a good girl? Never!  Plan and scheme. That’s what you do! Plan and scheme for what was legally mine!  They owe me an heir! It’s my right under their law! I refuse to be passive, to just shut up and go away.  Discarded. But I waited just to be sure. And wouldn’t you know it: Judah’s third son did grow up and he was not going to be my next husband! What a surprise! Mm hmm. But it was the passing of Judah’s wife that gave me the idea I considered my options and decided that the one who should fulfill their law and take responsibility toward me was Judah himself.  My father-in-law would become my husband. Shocked? Don’t be. It’s the law after all. And I'm taking the matter into my own hands. I know what I have to do.  I dress as a “worldly woman” , a prostitute, and I wait for him by the gate, knowing he was going to pass by. It worked. He solicited me.  He took the bait. I deceived him, yes, but he didn’t even recognize me back in the shadows. He’s such an aware guy….  
As payment for my “services”, Judah promised me a goat.  A goat? And he didn’t even have one with him! He promised to return with one. How convenient!  That swindler never intended to pay. But I knew what kind of con-man he is, so I took some things of real value from him to protect myself, three very-hard-to-mistake-who-they-belong-to items:  his signet ring, the cord from his neck, and his staff. Mm hmm. He never came back with the goat.  Just like I figured. Was he ashamed of “spending time“ with a girl from the “red district?”
You can guess how this story goes? Three months later I began “to show” and word spread.  That poisonous grapevine. They told Judah that I had been immoral.  Shame on me…Me! I force Judah to keep their law and what is the result? Condemnation, judgment and likely death: pregnant and condemned because I brought shame on Judah’s name Hah!
Then I play my ace card: I pull out my secret weapons: the ring, the cord, the staff. “Please identify. They belong to the father of my child…undeniable proof. 
Judah, will you own your own shame, your own sin?
Judah does.  He owns it.  And he repents. 
Through the actions of an outsider woman, Judah repented.
Jesus is called the Lion of Judah.
Jesus, my great-great…grandson.

Abendlied
Josef Reinberger
Upper School Band

This transcription is from the original choral score:
Text from Luke 24:29:
Bleib’ bei uns, denn es will Abend werden,
Und der Tag hat sich geneiget, sich geneiget,
O bleib’ bei uns, denn es will Abend werden.
 
Translation by John Rutter (b. 1945):
Bide with us, for evening shadows darken,
And the day will soon be over, soon be over,
O bide with us, for evening shadows darken

First Coming
Madeleine L’Engle
Addy Anderson, Reader

He did not wait till the world was ready,
till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.
He did not wait for the perfect time.
He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine. He did not wait
‘til hearts were pure. In joy he came
to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
he came, and his Light would not go out.
He came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.
We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!

Theme from “New World Symphony”   
Antonin Dvorak
Honors Ensemble

Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,” for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.”

Grandmothers of Christmas: Rahab
Original monologue
Nathan Frank, Reader

The moon shines bright. Come, step into its light, and I will tell you of this word that I learned. But only you, and only because I know somehow to trust you, and because you seem to know their language. Yes, let’s step into the courtyard. There are usually men waiting here, but I knew sensed that you’d be coming, so I sent them away. My name? Of course! They call me Rahab. They call me a lot of other things, too. “Rahab the Harlot”, “Tramp,” “Sloppy Slut…” and there are other names, just as affectionate. People can be…cruel. But they are also certainly eager to buy what I’m selling/ Yet once they leave – satisfied – they turn around and say some of the nastiest things. Don’t get me wrong: I’m no saint. What I do… why I do it…well, what am I supposed to do? I left my uncle’s farm along the Jordan – my parents had died –  to work as a seamstress here in “the big city.” But there was no seamstress job! And the men who brokered the deal with my uncle seem not to exist here in Jericho. But I will not return to my uncle’s estate, disgraced and empty-handed. So, Yeah. Look, I don’t pretend to be holier than thou.  But I need to eat. Am I not allowed to eat?

Anyway, that foreign word, the one that brought you to me! Listen: it came to me in a dream. Just last night, I dreamt I was cleaning up at the end of a “night shift,” when a gleam from my little statuette of Ashtoreth caught my eye. It wasn’t where I remember leaving it; but instead, there it was  on my nightstand. And…from the angle it was turned, it felt…alive. It almost seemed to…tremble. I got the strangest sensation that it was trying to…to tell me something. No, really! Goddess of the Moon, my little Ashtoreth, vibrating thereby my bed, then she seemed to look right at me --- or through me! Then I see her shed a tear!  Or I felt it? And then, … that word. I start to hear… feel?... it, too!  And right then, as if I were seeing into her tear, there’s a man, that legendary leader of your people. He opens an enormous body of water, leads a crowd of your  tribesmen, through water – but on dry land!  After that, people marching, in silence and then noise… city walls crumbling, a terrifying battle, blood and gore,… utter defeat for… for us, my Jericho. Yet I am spared! But I know I’m safe. This is a battle that I will outlive. But that’s not the end of Ashtoreth’s vision.  Don’t laugh! I’m trying to tell you honestly what I saw! A baby. After invasions and battle marches and walls and bloody death… peace. He’s a baby of peace. I’m at peace. For the first time. Just a baby, shimmering and watery in Ashtoreth’s tear, but so alive, so real! So powerfully… here. And bringing peace.

The vision ends. My little moon goddess is just standing there, still, dark, opaque, lit only by the moon now. But now I’m the one who is awake, trembling … bright? And I have a baby to carry, to love. No, I’ve never carried, never birthed a child, never been a mother myself. But now I’m pulsing with love for a baby to come – sometime in the future… And the word…. I’m fully awake now with the word “Immanuel” on my lips. A name? An event? An idea? Don’t know. And yet I do understand without understanding. Immanuel.   Hmmmm….. “God with us?” That’s what you say it means in your language? But….

Anyway, here’s what needs to happen. You can stay here tonight. You’ll be safe, I promise. Then I’ll help you slip out before anyone finds out who you are.  And when you and your people make your move, watch for this: my red sash hanging here in my window.  You’ll be able to see it from outside the walls. Watch for it! And come get me. I want to somehow be part of the story of that baby that’s coming – that peace baby, the Immanuel baby. You promise?

Unto Us is Born a Son
Traditional; arr David Willcocks
Vocation

This medieval carol from the 14th c (at least!) traces the descent of Christ into flesh and our world, recognized better by animals than we humans and even touching on the worst scene of the Birth narratives, the Slaughter of the Innocents. But even the most intentionally evil human machinations (Herod’s paranoid slaughter of children) and general cluelessness cannot derail God’s redemptive determination to “lead us up to glory.” Home.

Grandmothers of Christmas: Ruth
Original monologue
Abby Remein, Reader

O little town of Bethlehem,
how still we see thee lie!
Moab we have left behind. 
So much death. So much loss.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
a new harvest, yet to begin. 
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.  
For in the field, I gather
The wheat our stomachs to fill
While workers reap, Boaz keeps
His watch of wond’ring love
O harvesters, together
We eat till we’re full- even me!
while singing praises to their God, a king?
Maybe peace to foreigners like me.
How silently, how silently 
I lay before his feet.
My meek soul hopes with all its heart,
To find favor once he wakes. 
No ear hears of my troubles,
My loss, my fear within
Yet when he wakes, my darkness fades
Is my Guardian- Redeemer here?
Oh Boaz, my Guardian- Redeemer 
Praise the Lord, the women say!
Obed, my son,  has entered in
To Bethlehem this day!
We hear this newborn baby, 
the coos and cries he makes;
O come to us, sweet one, abide with us, 
My sweet child- a gift to us!

Sing We Now of Christmas
French traditional; arr Mark Hayes
Vocation
Accompanists: Dan Warren, piano; Lucy Foshay, flute; Reed Verbrugge, chimes

Grandmothers of Christmas: Bathsheba
Original monologue
Allie Bullivant, Reader

It got to the point where I couldn’t leave the house for the constant staring. The hungry eyes, roadside, bloodshot with poverty and judgment. Sometimes I’d hear what they were saying and sometimes I didn’t. It made no difference. I still felt sick to my stomach at being constantly accused. These were people who spent years simmering in their own bad decisions. The reek of bad wine or rotten fish, blood, unruly children scavenging between slouching doorways.

Yet they reserved the right to point a finger at me for one night, one night, when I was beautiful and naive and didn’t know a thing. My one foolish night for their dozens. For years I hated them. Hated their cruelty, their sheer volume outnumbering me in every alleyway and street corner.

My husband was a king. I was meant to smile. To love the people despite their scowls and their rags. I didn’t. I despised them. But that was a long time ago. I laugh now when I think of my former rage. Poor, silly rage.
It was my silent weapon, my way of fighting back against a world that liked to tell me over and over again what I had done and who I was, without so much as speaking a word to me.
Now I’ve learned, not much, but a few things. People will always talk. Stories swell in the hearts of the bored and the wise and the powerful alike. But if a story is shallow, or false, it’ll fade. Slowly, but it’ll fade.
I’ve known this for myself. Fewer glances, fewer dead stares. A man opens a door for me and his toothy smile is generous. By old age, I can walk for sometime and greet a dozen people, a naturalness between us that suggests a mutual understanding of the follies of youth, for which we are all now carrying out a sentence one way or the other.

The real question is: what happens to a story if it is true?
Or a story based on who someone really is, not just in a moment of fleeting impulse or weakness? What happens to a story if it’s true?
I think instead of fading, it grows slowly, in the shadows, where you’d least expect. It waits in the cover of darkness where demons don’t think to look. It hides in rumors and faint hopes and stupid gossip at someone’s feast table long after the final course is served.
It seems as likely to me as anything that the truth could start as a seed, tiny, hunkered down. It would, wouldn’t it? But given enough time, it would take on mass, weight. And eventually, if the story is really, really true, Truth itself, arms, legs, a voice. Even a baby’s cry.

Good King Wenceslas
Traditional English carol
Honors Ensemble

"My liege," he said, "I cannot go on. The wind freezes my very blood. Pray you, let us return." "Seems it so much?" asked the King. "Was not His journey from Heaven a wearier and a colder way than this?" Otto answered not. "Follow me on still," said S. Wenceslaus. "Only tread in my footsteps, and you will proceed more easily." The servant knew that his master spoke not at random. He carefully looked for the footsteps of the King: he set his own feet in the print of his lord's feet.

Rise Up Shepherd and Follow
Traditional spiritual; arr Kirby Shaw
Vocation Women

 This American spiritual from the Deep South combines all of the Gospel Nativity stories into one: Shepherds, not wisemen, follow stars to the place where the baby is born (see “The First Noel” for another example of this kind of narrative amalgamation).

We Three Kings
J H Hopkins;
arr. Honors Ensemble

Composed by Episcopal rector John Henry Hopkins, Jr., the classic hymn tells the story of the Magi through the eyes of the kings themselves. This unique arrangement, in a Persian style, offers the beloved star melody in a style that pays homage to what is believed to be the homeland of the travelers.

The Journey of the Magi
T S Eliot
Chris Albert, Reader

A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.'
…
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

…and so we continued
And arriving at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you might say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

Follow that Wondrous Star
Mary Donnely, George L O Strid
Covenant Singers

A Christmas Flourish
Randall Standridge
Upper School Band

This arrangement welcomes the Advent and Christmas seasons by taking beloved classics and simply giving them a bit more shimmer. Primarily based on O Come, All Ye Faithful in a delightfully spirited way, it includes parts of We Three Kings; Ukrainian Bell Carol and I Saw Three Ships. “Lo! Star led chieftains, Magi, Christ adoring.”

The Virgin Mary Had a Baby Boy
Trinidadian Carol; arr Andre J Thomas
Vocation
Percussionists: Clive Euans, Kerrigan Poindexter, Chris Walicek, Allison Stevens, Jack Liebengood, and Caleb Byrne

Caribbean Trinidad is the source of this folk carol. Student musicians from our Drumline are providing authentic percussion accompaniment.

Christ Has No Body
St. Teresa of Avila
Jade Eccles, Reader

It’s Beginning to Look Like Christmas
Meredith Willson
arr. Michael Brown
Upper School Band

As we move from darkness to light, we embrace the joy, the season’s greetings, and festivity that comes in celebrating Christ’s birth.

Home Alone Suite
John Williams
Upper School Band

John Williams' combination of melodic talent, orchestration skills, thematic depth, versatility, collaborative spirit, cultural significance, and emotional resonance makes him a standout figure in the world of film music. He is truly one of the greatest composers to have ever lived with iconic scores including Jaws, Jurassic Park, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, E.T., Harry Potter, and Superman! We are blessed not only to experience his work while he is still alive, but to study and share his legendary Christmas music.

Hallelujah Amen
G F Handel; from Judas Maccabeus
Covenant Mass Choir
Accompanist: Miriam Bradley

“... a light shining in a dark place until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.”
 

Performers

List of 7 items.

  • Covenant Singers

    Hannah Berglund
    Izzy Boehnke
    Kayleigh Breslin
    Lizzy Brissett
    Cole Cook
    Liv Curtis
    Mae Ellis
    Angela Ferro
    Garrett Guarraia
    Stella Gustafson
    Bethany Holt
    Ellie Jenkins
    Graham Johnston
    Colette Kardell
    Henry Kelley
    Margaret Killian
    Kella Lemcke
    Ava Morris
    McKenna Nicolette
    Calliah Grace O’Brien
    Tiffany Ogden
    Campbell Reese
    Kiersten Ring
    Ella Shapowal
    Alyssa Tritel
    Mollie Wamhoff
    Lizzy Wilcox
    Benny Will

  • Directors

    Dan Warren - Instrumental Music
    Jerry King - Vocal Music
    Ethan Mitchell and Mark Noble - Technical
    Karen Proce and Ceejay Renner-Thomas- Visual Arts

  • Honors Ensemble

    Kaleb Estes, alto sax
    Peter Fast, French horn
    Lucy Foshay, flute
    Sadie Muck, violin
    Mitchel Powell, trumpet
    Michael Rupe, alto and baritone saxophones
    Allison Stevens, trombone
    Kinsley Verbrugge, bass clarinet
    Sophie Wayner, clarinet

  • Monologue Writers

    Allie Bullivant
    Nathan Frank
    Melissa Petroski
    Abby Remein

  • Readers

    Chris Albert
    Addy Anderson
    Elisabeth Brissett
    Allie Bullivant
    Jade Eccles
    Henri Lepage
    Zoe Levesque
    Carrie Meadors
    Melissa Petroski
    Abby Remein

  • Upper School Band

    Flute
    Lucy Foshay
    Evie Wayner

    Violin
    Sadie Muck

    Clarinet
    Daisy Holbrook
    Kinsley Verbrugge
    Evie Wayner

    Alto Saxophone
    Christian Chirichetti
    Kaleb Estes
    Lucas Johnson
    Joe Moore

    Tenor Saxophone
    Ed Flick

    Baritone Saxophone
    Michael Rupe

    Trumpet
    Dayne Honaker
    Mitchel Powell
    Marcus Saliba

    French Horn
    Peter Fast

    Trombone
    Luke Bewley
    Kade Metz
    Allison Stevens

    Baritone
    Jesse Gainey

    Cello
    Madison Long

    Tuba
    Emilia Jones

    Percussion
    Aidan Jordan
    McKinley Pattie
    Angel Rodriguez-Amaya
    Reed Verbrugge

  • Vocation

    Addy Anderson
    Orla Bradley
    Gabe Cullaty
    Owen Cullaty
    Elizabeth Burton
    Jade Eccles
    Rylan Frazier
    Maria Gran
    Harrison Hart
    Will Horner
    Kelly Johnson
    Henri Lepage
    Zoe Levesque
    Jay Lineweaver
    Phoenix Maton
    Jonathan Olson
    Rachael Patterson
    Adelaide Smith
    Henry Waldruff
    Maddie Walsh
    Ella Watson
    Savannah Wood

Special Thanks

Mr. Brad Baggett, Mrs. Nikki Shrader, Mr. Spencer Burton, and Mr. Colin Anderson for their substantial support of the Arts programs at Covenant.

Mr. Greg Porter and the Facilities team for their patient and cheerful practical service.
 
Mr. Jeff Kildea and Mrs. Lydia Warren for program and publicity.

Parent volunteers for providing the meals for our performers.

Faculty and parent volunteer singers for augmenting our final number.

Covenant Business Sponsors: Taylor Associates and Marcela Foshay, Nest Realty



Upcoming Arts Events

  • Live Nativity at the Birdwood Campus | Wednesday, December 11 | 5:00 p.m. and 5:30 p.m.
  • Caroling C'ville | Tuesday, December 17  | 8:30 a.m. - 3:30 p.m.
  • Christmas Chapel | Wednesday, December 18 | 10:00 a.m.
  • Into the Woods - US Production | March 6, 7, 8 | 7:00 p.m.