When Enough Is Truly Enough (Paul Becker, Mussorgsky, Wagner, Donnie McClurkin, Mozart, Bach, Löwe)

It is autumn in the Southern Hemisphere... living composer Paul Becker took me to my favorite season and all its poignancy on a day when I was feeling it ... it is always spring and autumn when certain things happen ... a time of transition between the solidity of summer and winter ... and both exquisitely beautiful... but autumn, as the year reaches harvest and shows its last, grand display of living color ... exquisite, as this piece is ...

One last effort ... nine hours over two days ... gently but firmly letting people that came back in the winter know that I cannot go in circles with them ... but mostly listening ... one last tale ...

My favorite Pimen from Mussorgsky's opera Boris Godunov is Maxim Mikhailov ... his singing takes me back right back to Old Russia, in which an humble old monk is the only person who decides to dare to record what actually happened to Prince Dmitri, son of Ivan the Terrible, and who did the crime ... and after writing it down, will later be the only man who dares to confront the killer, in a way that recalls how the prophet Nathan confronted King David in Scripture, and thus give him time and space to repent -- AND IT WORKS, although too late to save Russia from its historical Time of Troubles.

Pimen is underrated ... he succeeds where many others fail in turning the tide at least for the wicked man he chooses to reach, and, I wish I could be more like Pimen this week, not stuck in the role of being, in essence, Commendatore's daughter in the sense that I just cannot let go without making the effort to turn people from circling the pit... one last effort, one last tale ... I mostly listened, and I heard all that I needed to hear ... it is not the first time the hopes of a warm winter have died in a cold spring. I absolutely cannot go on the merry-go-round again, and I choose that I will not. For so I am commanded...

Follow Me, and let the dead bury their dead.

And, as was more gently echoed a spring ago ...

There is no bridge, Frau Mathews. There is no bridge.

My second-favorite Commendatore, living Austrian bass Franz-Josef Selig, has also done a version of King Marke's lament ...

... and that comes back to mind because in Tristan und Isolde, Marke laments twice, the first time when catching Tristan and Isolde in the act of adultery, but the second time after forgiving them because Brangäne confesses about the potions that caused the trouble ... the second time, because neither Tristan or Isolde can escape the consequences of their act even though forgiven by the one person on earth who could destroy them. King Marke, noble and loving as he is, cannot do anything about that, just as Commendatore cannot change Don Giovanni's trajectory. Pimen does get Boris Godunov to see his sin and ask God for forgiveness -- but that still comes too late to save Russia from 300 years of problems.

But Pimen goes back to the monastery, and lives out his few remaining days in peace there, presumably. Commendatore goes right back home to dine on the food of heaven. King Marke survives to reign alone in Cornwall, and pick another wife or successor if he wishes, because ...

Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled.

What do you do when you've done all you can? You learn how to stand in who you are called to be. I know this clearly in 2025, and Donnie McClurkin helps a lot, too...

I finished the ninth hour, accepted the end, and went back outside ... that day I went to Alta Plaza Park and sat in the sunshine, and mourned, and prayed, and wrote in my journal to literally close the book on it.

The following day, it was my privilege to teach the Beatitudes -- the very Scripture I had drawn upon for strength -- to my own students, with a new level of understanding. While there it also occurred to me: I am to turn more to those people who are in the way that I called, for all that is for me is in the way, and in turning more to them I must turn away from those who continue to refuse to commit themselves to this process.

So be it. I mourn, but I am being comforted.

It was a birthday weekend for two of my students ... enjoyed those days with them ... received some flowers from my church for my service ... this was nice ... it is a blessing to have joys to choose and focus on. Later in the week, I learned that a colleague is, like me, a hidden great musician, with contacts around the world and especially Germany, and she and I made music like we were meant to have met... and we were, having been called in the same way, and together at this time!

Still later in the week, I met an analog to Gentle Giant Nurse ... call him Gentle Genius Businessman ... he was giving a presentation and just explained everything going on in the entire region down to collective bargaining agreements and how to save money even with his company because there were the top 10 things people forget to do before making a call and getting a big bill ... he took questions and was rolling with the brilliance of the people there to the point of being able to break down how best to use the services in any 24-hour period, accounting for double shifts and emergency situations. I shared with him that of all the presenters we have ever had on this subject, he was the most transparent, knowledgeable, and thorough, and that he had represented his company well. He got an ovation ... and this gentle genius made it a point to come shake my hand and thank me again before he left.

Stories of success ... for Pimen succeeds, like Gurnemanz the holy knight does in Parsifal ... when the right messenger meets an open heart, then miracles can happen ... redemption, restoration ... one can look at both Boris Godunov and Parsifal in that way.

It also so happens that the monk and the knight come together in my mind because my favorite bass also recorded Pimen! Although Kurt Möll's recording is not as evocative of the great Russian history that Maxim Mikhailov's is -- one cannot outdo Maxim Mikhailov on his own ground, of course -- what Herr Möll gets across is Pimen the hopeful, Pimen who will walk by faith and confront a murdering czar who will repent, if Mussgorsky's first version of his opera is the correct indication ... and after that, walk on into a blessed eternity, and so is unafraid of any of the future. His Pimen epitomizes a Scripture that has become more dear to me, namely I John 5:4b: "And this is the victory that overcomes the world: even our faith." Walking in victory is simply living by faith, and this is how Pimen does what no one else can ... and so does Gurnemanz. Herr Moll, himself known as a kind, gentle, and humble man, loved voicing such characters, and one can hear that in his version.

Bonus points for the extreme beauty of Herr Möll's voice, pointing up what is so often overlooked in Mussgorsky: he wrote beautiful melodies and vocal lines for bass, for Boris Godunov is the opera for bass voices (and thus, my favorite opera)!

I considered after hearing that again ... in reality, we count Pimen as successful because Boris repented, but Boris's repentance has to do with the fact that he knows he is about to die and that he must get a prayer through on behalf of his young son who is going to become czar very young, and for his daughter whom his son must protect. In reality, Boris repents because he chooses to, in the same way Don Giovanni does not repent because he does not choose to.

Before I knew well of Don Giovanni, and therefore of Herr Möll, I knew Boris Godunov, and therefore Jerome Hines and Martti Talvela. They taught me so much in the 2010s, from Boris's side, about the hard journey toward repentance, and leaving the world behind to get it -- which Boris has to do completely! But Mussorgsky hints that he makes it to redemption, and so do Mr. Hines and Mr. Talvela ... what completes the picture is Herr Möll as Pimen ... famous as Commendatore and Gurnemanz, and who must have thought through the harmony in those characters as faithful messengers in supporting but critical roles. The title characters in all those operas cannot reach their destinies unless the messengers are faithful!

Everyone tends to be the star in their own personal story, but we choose how we are going to relate to others and things in this world ... it is required of both messengers and stewards that they be found faithful. It is a whole new level in life to realize: all you are called to be is a faithful steward and messenger, with no control or right in the outcome of anyone else whose stewardship you are not charged with if you are just the messenger.

"And that, Frau Mathews, is what makes the life of an echo so easy, provided he sounds in the ear of one who desires to hear, understand, and act."

The Ghost of Musical Greatness Past materialized with a smile, just as the last note of Mussorgsky sounded, in full white beard that made him look like Pimen ... apparent age quite a bit older than he had been running since mid-2024.

"Well, I am a sedate octagenerian of 87 years now ... every so often, Frau Mathews, costuming and I decide to let it be what it is."

In his kindness, on his 87th birthday, he had brought me sweet gifts of gold and ruby ...

"Oh, you know with a gift of fruit you can take me anywhere ... danke sehr," I purred, and watched him glow with pleasure.

"Gern geschehen," he said. "Healthier than birthday cake, at least!"

"Alles Gute zum Geburtstag!" I said, and then grinned and broke out in Mozart, changing the words of Osmin's great aria to fit his birthday, just an octave higher!

"Alles Gute zum Geburtstag!
Alles Gute zum Geburtstag!
Alles Gute zu dir, zu dir!
Alles Gute zu dir, zu dir!"

He looked at me in overjoyed disbelief and then started laughing, but then stopped, his eyebrows climbing in anticipation as I made the descent that had troubled weaker basses for years and of which few women would even think of even an octave higher ... would I make that that low D, or not?

"You made it -- Frau Mathews, my dearest contralto profondo -- you nailed the D3!" he cried, and then fell out laughing again as I went for the close and even climbed on a chair like he had gotten up on the orchestra box -- and then started dancing at the end!

"Alles Gute zum Geburtstag! Alles Gute zum Geburtstag!"

Now he didn't have ribs to break, nor did he need to breathe, so if he really got tickled, it was going to be a long, long time before he could get done ...

"Now, I was thinking you would have it enough together by now to help me get down from here, but apparently ... ."

He laughed so hard he de-materialized -- the last thing I saw was the beard and wig from costuming falling right off before they too vanished, which passed the laughter back to me as he went. That night I dreamed of the Aurora Borealis come again to San Francisco, rippling across the sky in rich gold blushing to deep red, the visual equivalent of peal after peal of rolling, laughing thunder. I slept well ... 87th birthday mission accomplished, as the echo of joy back into the life of one who had brought me so much!

At last a longer day out, and it was warmer than I expected ... a blessing I deeply appreciated. I resorted to the great peace and beauty of the Oak Woodlands of Golden Gate Park, in their golden-dappled spring. Now I so desired to climb up and over ...

... and then down to Alvord Lake, but I knew a gentler path was right for me, and took it.

In coming to place in which paths met ...

... I heard two bass voices on the crossing path ... one from the past, and one doubtless to be heard in future.

"Sir, how -- just, how?" the younger bass was asking. "How are you still not headlining on some huge stage somewhere, and then, how did you get to being able to sing like this?"

"To the first, young man, I have 'been there, done that,' as you young people say. I enjoyed those years, and I even more enjoy that they are over! As for the second part, young man, I was not the greatest bass of my time, but consistent preparation and readiness often outruns both talent and genius."

"But what if you can get all that together?"

"Make it happen and find out, young man. Two you were born with. The other two are a constant series of choices.

"Let me also add to that a third matter; in fully choosing what you are called to, you will find that you cannot choose anything else. There is only so much time in a day, in a week, a month, a year, and in a life. Keep that in mind. I do not say that you cannot have great recreation and enjoyment, but as you find more of that comes in the way of the work you are called to, you will have less elsewhere. A voice ready to sing on the operatic level cannot be spread around to a thousand different conversations. A mind ready to make a great interpretation must engage itself with history and literature deeply, and the heart must have strength to engage with understanding and empathy both with the music and the audience in order to bridge the gap, and this may require a level of emotional openness that many men would not be comfortable with.

"None of these things exist in the presence of the crowd, young man -- they require you to come away from the common life. To echo far greater wisdom than mine: the road is narrow, and few there be that find it."

"So, the Sunday School learning applies in this, too," the younger bass said.

"Young man, go as far as you wish in the universe, and across all time and space. You will never reach a place where the word of the One Who made it all is not strict and utter law. Yet once you realize that, life becomes simpler."

"What do you do when the friends you grew up with don't match -- you still love them, but they don't want anything in life?"

"Are they now your friends?"

There was a long pause.

"No. They can't be. They don't want anything in life that takes work. I need friends that want all that they may rightly get and use for good. That's what I need."

"Well, you may now count K.M. Altesrouge among your new friends of that type, young man."

"Oh, sir -- sir!"

"Now, as your new old friend, let me tell you not to be late for your next rehearsal -- your bus is right there."

"I'm going -- thank you so much, Herr Altesrouge! I'm going to make you proud!"

The younger bass went away rejoicing, and the elder bass kept going, thus coming onto the path by which he would meet me.

"Out here blessing the young people today, I see!" I said.

"Well, my dear Frau Mathews, you can't have all the fun."

I walked into his warm embrace, and we went on walking in great happiness.

"I do not have much to say to you, Frau Mathews," he said, "although I realize I had better have a solid plan because you can laugh me clear through the stratosphere!"

"I figured that would be the finest birthday present," I said.

"Oh, it was, Frau Mathews," he purred, "and I thank you. Of course there is little to be done on earth that compares with the joys on high, but to be loved well, and to be grateful, is among the eternal graces and joys that can be deeply enjoyed here, and my enjoyment was indeed very deep. I thank you, my dear lady -- ich danke dir, meine liebe Dame!"

He did not intend it at the moment, but I was seeing stars ... he had gotten all the way down into his double-deep range while his voice was still overlaid with the afterglow of his ecstasy of laughter ... this was a speaking-voice tour of the Knockout Zone in progress ... if we had not been walking, I would have fallen right out!

"You have had a momentous week, Frau Mathews, because you are the same person everywhere, and where love meets love there are always wonders not thought possible in an evil world. But where love is rejected, love must move on. That is the entire lesson of the week, for which I only have commentary."

He was indeed a kind man with a gentle soul, and did not feel the need to say "I told you so, last spring ... there is no bridge."

"There is learning you have to do, as a human being, that is deeper than my voice will ever reach. You had to be shown and hear from the Voice Who calls you on high, just as you did in 2022: 'It is enough, My daughter.' I knew when you heard Him, you would understand."

I just kept walking ... already touring the Knockout Zone, about to burst into tears ... I had no idea what might happen if those two realities met ... so I just kept walking.

"I see that you met another fine musician, called apart as you are -- and I did not know you could play the piano like THAT, Frau Mathews! That was a lot for a sedate octogenarian to take in -- and once you have practiced for the church concert you didn't even want to be in, oh my!"

"Once upon a time," I said, "I was a good enough pianist to have maybe been allowed somewhere on the margins of a list that you might have needed an accompanist for, provided there was a traffic jam, an earthquake, and a storm keeping all the truly great pianists away."

"Frau Mathews, you forget what you said about Maxim Mikhailov. Not even I can out-sing him on his own ground. You once were more practiced in classical music, but you are mistress of your own ground: the space of blending Negro Spirituals, classical, jazz, and gospel with a bass-driven sound on the piano. You are the greatest Deeann D. Mathews there will ever be, bar none, with no exception -- and at last you have met a fellow musician who thinks of you only in terms of the two of you having mutual admiration and ability to bless each other. You and she are simply amazing together! I may have to materialize and come to this concert, Frau Mathews, and I hope that they will let this sedate octogenarian -- merely a classical singer, mind you -- somewhere near you and your new friend before the building is ordered cleared!"

I needed that laugh, and came back to the beauty of the world around me, thus!

"Now also let us speak of Gentle Genius Businessman for a few moments," he said. "It seems that this type of man keeps being called into your world!"

"If you were a tenor, and maybe a quarter of a meter -- eight inches -- shorter, and the same reduction in broadness, I would have wondered if you had not come out of costuming in the form of a businessman, because he affected my mind and heart the same way ... a master of his field, coming with the mind to bless us no matter what we decided about his company working with us -- so he blessed, giving us wisdom to solve problems we've had for 15 years that we didn't even know existed to be solved. There was so much humility, and love for his work, and openness to the experience ... he was beautiful, in the most noble way that a man can be."

"And you, being who you are, loved him deeply within the confines of the appropriateness of the moment, and told him what a fine representative he is of his own company -- had that man almost knocking folks down to get to you to say thank you a third time! It is a good thing he was not my size and could fit through some gaps!"

I laughed at this, but, he wasn't wrong!

"Love met love there, just like it was with Gentle Giant Nurse, in the appropriate context!" he said. "But I do caution you of this, Frau Mathews -- remember that these men in mortality do not return directly to Glory after enjoying a walk with you! Love meeting love is rare in this world -- and if this gentleman and his company are selected, you may find that, unlike Gentle Giant Nurse, Gentle Genius Businessman has the freedom to get to where you are!"

"No, he doesn't," I said. "I always do a ring check -- he is married."

"That defines a boundary, indeed," he said, "but that had no effect on you causing that man to feel like spring had come into the world and personally found him -- and within the boundary, he may have a colleague of like mind who he may bring into your circle who is ready -- and will you not seek to bless that colleague if he comes correct, just as you instinctively did him? I caution you as your sedate octogenarian walking partner who keeps finding himself singing Brahms' 'Versunken' long past any moment of my life in which that should be possible, for you are becoming so much of the freely given love and fellowship on high while still here that I am doing what any man in that situation who can sense and cherish that will: I am sometimes forgetting where I am! Have a care if you want to stay single and untroubled, Frau Mathews!"

I considered this.

"There are some things I am not willing to compromise," I said. "My authentic self is a deeply loving person. Men get to choose how they respond, and I get to choose what I will entertain. I already knew he had a ring before I made the compliment, but I would not have withheld it either way, because we want good men in evil times to be encouraged to stay the course."

"That is not a common frame of mind in a competitive, consumerist society. Rarely does anyone size a man up and figure him out just for the purpose of blessing him clear to the bottom of his heart. That is an act of great mind and great heart, combined. You are also beautiful, Frau Mathews, and the holy quietude that you are leaning into is a stunning adornment on you. I advise you not to turn you from your authentic self, but to inform you that you might be ready ... there are men that, after such an experience, might get just a little excited."

I laughed at this inside joke ... this master of understatement got just a little excited and got up on orchestra boxes ... so having someone like that get excited about a woman was going to be an experience for her and the world around her!

"Thanks for the heads up," I said, not remembering at the moment that Thursday walks and Friday flower arrangements in the boardroom and weekend musical torchings of Golden Gate Park, complete with a bewildered fan base trying to figure out who in the world had K.M. Altesrouge singing out of control -- not remembering for the moment that all that had been going on since October -- and therefore entirely missing the reason for the gentle chuckle that came next.

"Addendum, Frau Mathews: some such men are also very patient," he added, "so much so that you will have forgotten how you touched their interest off and therefore not know they are coming for your heart until they are close to or at their goal! Just be aware, as a deeply loving woman in the world!"

"In closing, understand that as soon as you literally closed the book on those rejecting love, all that happened this week followed directly. It does not ever happen otherwise, Frau Mathews. You cannot look in two directions at the same time."

"That came to me on Sunday," I said. "If I turn more fully to what is mine, obviously I will be turning away from what is not."

"And more is yours than you know, Frau Mathews. Eye hath not seen or ear heard, even in this realm -- last week you could not have foreseen any of this week's connections, and last year you could not see this year!

"Walk, abide, adorn, appear, appropriate, associate, affirm -- we have had those lessons, and now we add attend. Attend to that which is given you, Frau Mathews, and in doing so you will also absent yourself from what is not. You will find that enough is truly enough!

"Side note, Frau Mathews -- call it an extra credit assignment. Be advised: you are about to have years of thinking adjusted."

"Oh, we need to find a seat!" I said, and we were just around the corner from the usually quiet Horseshoe Courts ...

... which we had discovered in the previous spring. I knew there were benches tucked in there not visible from the entrance, and thus we found one in the sunshine and had the entire place to ourselves.

"The acoustics in here are quite good," he purred, and hinted that he would sing one more time before the day was out. "But for the extra credit assignment: are you ready?"

"Ich bin bereit," I said, and he smiled.

"You have firmly grasped that Commendatore is not responsible for his message not being heeded by Don Giovanni. You are overlooking that the message in the end is for the one who who receives it."

I thought about this, and then had the realization that rocked my world.

"Leporello, who is freed to seek a better master," I said. "He is completely saved, by grace, even though he under his old master participated in some of the evil ... but he now will be under the leadership of a good master."

"So although the drama of the world looks at the so-called great men and judges only them important, all the while, the one despised and overlooked and mistreated is chosen when he realizes his own need for mercy -- doesn't that sound like another of the Beatitudes?"

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven," I said.

"There it is, Frau Mathews -- hidden in plain sight, like you and the fabulous musician you are now working with, hidden until the proper time to be revealed and attended to.

"For another example: who is saved in Tristan und Isolde?

"King Marke and Lady Brangäne," I said, "Marke through love and compassion because he does not order Tristan and Isolde killed before knowing all of the facts, and Brangäne because she confessed and told the truth."

"I leave to your vibrant imagination to determine what other happy endings you might imagine to Wagner's tale, this year."

"Whoa -- wait a minute --!"

He laughed uproariously.

"That will hold you for a week or two!" he said at last. "And far beyond imagining all that, Frau Mathews -- think of the blessing that will bloom all around you as you attend more and more to what is yours! Thus far a week -- what will next week hold?"

I considered this.

"I might consider being just a little excited ... ."

He nearly rolled off the bench, laughing!

"Have no fear -- I will wait on you and be more than just a little excited until you catch up!"

But after we both enjoyed that laugh, he put his arms around me tenderly.

"I have said to you what I have observed before in your temperament: that there are times in which you have been in so much grief that all the excitement and joy you are experiencing is acting just as a counterbalance, and it takes all the faith and hope you have to keep going. I realize you are in one of those times in your life, and you need not perform excitement for me or anyone. Just keep going, and attend to the things that are yours. That is enough."

I rested in his embrace.

"I heard in the park this week that you sang 'Die Uhr' by Loewe for your own birthday, and there was not a dry eye on the Music Concourse," I said. "I would love if you would sing it for me, a woman who had to go to Alta Plaza Park and have the Master's hand just wind up my heart again so I could keep going."

"Gladly, Frau Mathews. Rest from all grief and pain a little while, with me."

So often I had taken rest and refuge in his voice ... and this was no exception... I so appreciated this story of a life ... all its joys, all its pains, all its wishing that things would be different but then realizing that the Master knows best ... all the beats of the heart-clock (for "Die Uhr" means "The Clock," and in the course of the song we realize it is the character's heart) through all of life's circumstances, all the moments of such grief that the heart would almost stop, but the Master tenderly winds it up again when it is bought to him ... and at last, at the end when the clock must stop, to return a report of faithful living to the very end... a simple life, and the richest of all ... Löwe loved writing those kinds of songs, and the singer clearly loved singing them just as much ...

Love meets love meets love again ... so that song, to my ears and heart, in that beautiful place where we sat ... down centuries, and now all the way to Web 3 ... the choice to express love could travel so far ... but would not stay anywhere it was not lovingly received and returned. "For many are called, but few are chosen" ... the thought bowed my heart down because I had been graced to hear, and to respond, and thus be fitted to be the means by which others, also graced, would also hear, and respond. That overfilled my heart ... indeed I mourned, and also was comforted. It was, indeed, enough.