From Artistic Director Nick Page
Dear Mystic Chorale Community,
We have sad news. Maury Eldridge, the Mystic Chorale’s longtime poet laureate, bass soloist, photographer, and sweetest man alive, has died. He was a constant outdoorsman, climbing the highest peaks, scuba diving, or camping in the woods with his grandchildren. He was last seen kayaking off the coast of Maine on Saturday. The details of his tragic drowning are unknown.
We at the Mystic Chorale send our deep love to his wife Dale and their loving family whom he cherished. May they feel the love around them. Cards may be sent to:
Dale Eldridge
223 Aspen Circle
Lincoln, MA 01773
I have sung duets with Maury and in quartets with Mark, Paul and Bob. He was to sing a solo in the upcoming Mystic concert on a song called “The Parting Glass.” We’ll be singing it with tears in our eyes.
The Mystic’s spring concert will be dedicated in his memory and a poem that he wrote for the concert will be recited. It is called “We Sing.” The beautiful poem below. Its words resonate with deep meaning at this sad time.
Below is a link to a collaboration he and I created using his spoken words, his beautiful nature photography, combined with the Mystic Chorale singing Pete Seeger’s “To Our Old Brown Earth.”
There will be a memorial in the fall.
With Love,
Nick Page
TO OUR OLD BROWN EARTH by Pete Seeger with photographs and poems by Maury Eldridge
We Sing by Maury Eldridge (written for the Mystic’s Spring Concert, 2022)
Dawn awakens.
Sunlight warms us.
Evening brings ecstasies of color.
Night offers humble truth,
The infinite brilliance of stars.
Out of the light,
A director weaves melodies we can hear,
Harmonies that lift us up,
Songs that cry out, “Arise!”
We breathe.
We breathe the salt air of the coasts,
The moist verdancy of forests.
We breathe the grasses of the prairie,
The delicate alpine fragrance of the mountains.
We all breathe inspiration.
We sing.
Our song fills the void with hope.
Our song heals.
In song, we find our way.
We become instruments of the light.
We become instruments of compassion.
We become instruments of peace.
Ancestors sing in our harmonies.
Hearts beat the rhythms of our voices joined.
The future rides on waves of song.
In the music, spirits arise.
Our song weaves connection:
Melodies of light,
Harmonies with the earth,
Rhythms of the waters,
Synchronous rhythms in our hearts.
We sing.
We join.
Together, we arise.
