Sing For The Cure®

About Sing for the Cure®

Sing for the Cure Not that long ago a breast cancer diagnosis was considered a private matter and, often, a death sentence. However, that began to change on a massive scale in the 1970's when U.S. first lady Betty Ford underwent a radical mastectomy and spoke forthrightly about her experience. One of the people she inspired was Susan G. Komen, herself undergoing breast cancer treatment after years of being misinformed and treated by physicians who were not cancer experts. Susan began to dream of ways to raise awareness of and find a cure for breast cancer. Although Susan did not live to carry her dream forward, her sister Nancy G. Brinker founded Susan G. Komen for the Cure® to fulfill Susan's dreams.

Sing for the Cure®, an uplifting and positive musical experience, tells the stories of breast cancer survivors, their families and friends. This emotionally charged and powerful work was commissioned in 2000 by Susan G. Komen for the Cure® as a result of Nancy Brinker's belief that more would listen to the message if it was delivered through the powerful medium of music.

From its first performance by Turtle Creek Chorale and the Dallas Women's Chorus and renowned poet and activist Maya Angelou as narrator, Sing for the Cure® has moved and delighted thousands of people. It has brought the messages of comfort, faith, and the hope of victory. At the end of the journey through a myriad of emotions and experiences, the rousing finale brings the audience to its feet with renewed energy for the fight.

On March 14th, Vox performed this piece and took our audience on an incredible, exciting and moving journey. We are pleased that a potion of our tickets sales went to the Los Angeles Breast Cancer Alliance.

The Singer's Voice

Here are some thoughts about Sing for the Cure® from Vox singers and our partners for this concert, Voices of Hope Men's Chorus.

I'm singing in honor of Yvonne, who is currently battling widespread metastatic bone cancer after surviving breast cancer 12 years ago. She was a student of mine, and subsequently became a dear friend. If her original doctor had told her to have a CAT scan every year she wouldn't be in this situation now. (Based on the type of breast cancer she had, this should have been a standard recommendation, yet she was never told.) She's my ideal "fighter" - Earth-Mother strong, unflinchingly honest, and full of humor and spiritual insight. When I think of her as I sing, though, I start to cry, so I have to wait till the piece is done to let my feelings roll. We will not give up this fight - we will find a cure, and give voice to every sufferer and survivor!
To me, singing this piece means to have the understanding, acceptance, compassion, resilience, strength, and, hope when cancer touches us, either directly or indirectly - to make each day special for oneself and our loved ones - to treasure each moment and be grateful for life and its experiences - to carry this message to all that one day we will find a cure.
One concern is that the theme of this concert will feel to some like a "specialty"...somehow fitting for those who are dealing with breast cancer but not for "everyone". Who to invite? Is the topic too sensitive for some people (I know my partner doesn't want to attend due to the uncomfortable theme, no matter how I try to explain that it feels ultimately uplifting). I have three first cousins who had mastectomies this past year. Would they want to attend, or would they feel too "targeted"?

Is this concert suitable for young children? Too serious? Too scary? Too adult? Most likely!

On the other hand, I know how common this disease is, how common the experience is to many...and I sometimes feel I'm doomed to get this disease at some point sooner or later in my life. Of course we should work toward a cure. Of course we should honor the experience so many women and their families have had. Of course, there are so many similar topics that could be selected: HIV disease or Tuberculosis or other cancers could have a song cycle written for them. How about how many die from suicide or war or famine? Why this selection??

The melodies and the different musical styles make learning the music fun!! There are tricky technicalities to challenge the musician! Nice we don't have to memorize...takes off quite a bit of pressure! Nice to have men join us once again.

This is what was on my mind, though there's plenty more swimming in my brain - like I hope I can sing the piece without crying my eyes out. Thanks.
As I sing the pieces in this work, my dear friend Elena is much in my mind. Two years ago, Elena's lung cancer returned for the fourth time and was deemed inoperable. But, Elena opted for experimental treatment, kept living out loud and kept working - Elena without work would not be Elena! For a while the treatment appeared to have worked, but this fall the cancer was back. When I last saw her in September and she said she was thinking of taking disability, I knew things were not good. Ultimately, she didn't take disability - in fact, she was on the phone with her staff the day before her death making sure a new program was proceeding smoothly! Although her disease was lung cancer, I believe many of the thoughts and feelings explored in this piece are universal and could apply to anyone dealing with any life-threatening illness.

I'm also singing in honor of two other friends - both lived near Three Mile Island, both were not warned of the dangers of staying during the meltdown, both developed breast cancer a few years later, both had mastectomies and both are alive and kicking more than 15 years later.

I guess, too, the rehearsal process is forcing me to confront that this could apply to me one day. A few years ago after one of many biopsies, I was told that I had lobular carcinoma in situ. The doctor did a great job of reassuring me - "this type of cancer will never spread," "the risk of a more invasive type of cancer increases by about 25% but an annual mammogram will make sure you catch it early if it happens." In fact, the doctor did such a good job that I was shocked when the hospital sent a follow-up letter about a year later addressed to "Dear Cancer Survivor." Seeing that in black and white sent chills up my spine and prompted an incensed "What! I didn't have cancer!" to spring from my lips. When I went for my next mammogram, they asked if I'd ever had cancer to which I unthinkingly replied "No" - then "Oops, I mean yes!" They looked at me like I was a little addled. I take whatever preventive measures I can, but other than that I tend to forget about it. Sometimes denial can be a wonderful thing.
I sing with the Seattle Men's Chorus, and we performed Sing for The Cure the year before the Seattle Women's Chorus was formed. We recruited women from many choruses in the city (much like Iris is doing with Vox). Most of my choral experience was with a mixed chorus, so I welcomed the opportunity to perform in a mixed chorus again. Particularly poignant was the fact that we used 7 survivors as the narrators-- each took a portion of the narration, and the intensity of having the story told by women who had been through the ordeal and WON was powerful and moving. I feel each of the composers have captured perfectly the essence of emotional conflicts, the highs and lows of this frightening ordeal. We men left the performance with a clearer understanding of this disease, and through the power of music, and our newfound friends, the triumph of the human spirit prevailed.

I also attended graduate school with Iris, as a choral conducting major at Temple, and we became instant friends. I learned as much from her wonderful approach to music and her genuine caring for her singers, as I did from the professors. I was thrilled when she extended the invitation to sing with you, so this will also be an opportunity for me to catch up on her career in LA. I look forward to meeting and singing with you - your reputation extends up here to Seattle.
I was quite honored that Iris asked me to sing for her. I sang for and with her many years ago with the New Sounds of Hawthorne and the Jane Hardester Singers, and it is a pleasure to once again sing for her. She is truly one of the best directors I've had the privilege of singing for. The Sing for the Cure concert cycle is a beautiful, thoughtful, humorous, touching, and uplifting piece, and will be a wonderful concert. And I do have two sisters who have both gone through breast cancer treatment, so I'm well aware of the need for early detection of the disease.
The first song of the song cycle, "Who will speak?" is written in the voice of a laboratory scientist/technician who runs a test that results in a cancer diagnosis. The speaker does not have relationships with the people, only with their cells. The anger and frustration builds, clearly communicated by the lyrics and the powerfully dissonant music. The most meaningful line for me is "Don't be afraid to hear their voices!" Our roles are to support and listen because people with cancer can speak for themselves.

Some of the most moving doctor-patient relationships in my medical career were the ones with cancer survivors. When I had been the one to make the diagnosis, the women invariably felt that I had saved their lives, regardless of the stage at diagnosis or the grueling treatment that they endured after the diagnosis. Most cancer survivors speak eloquently of their journeys, by their words and the ways they live their lives. One of the most beautiful experiences was with a woman who had pain and bleeding but would not consent to the surgery that would have treated and fully diagnosed her painful condition. She told me she was working on her spiritual healing from traumatic childhood events and felt that the symptoms were important to her progress. When she was ultimately was found to have ovarian cancer, she thanked me for continuing our relationship despite her decision not to undergo the treatment that I recommended.

I have not dealt with cancer or chronic illness in my own life, but the song "Who will Curl my Daughter's Hair" choked me up every time I listened or sang it. The truth is that I was never any good at curling my daughters' hair- they did it for each other. My sadness comes from thinking about missing my children's joy in their parenting. When I had finally worked myself through the emotion and could sing the song without crying, I learned that a small group will be singing those lines. Hopefully I will hold it together and be able to sing when the whole chorus comes in.

There are recent reports that there is a slow gradual decrease for cancer diagnoses for all ages in the U.S. There is, for the first time, a decline in the incidence of breast cancer. Research shows that the breast cancer decline is related to the discontinuation of Hormone Replacement Therapy by many women. Maybe the general decline is due to the efforts at environmental clean-up that have occurred over the last three decades. These are reasons to be hopeful and continue our own efforts in our daily lives.