Upcoming dates —
Dec. 16 at The Alvin Ailey CitiGroup Theater, NYC
Superstar dancer and choreographer Alexandra Light has created a beautiful, new dance work set to selections from my record In Our Softening. The work will be performed as part of the Winter Showcase for the Steps on Broadway Conservatory, taking place at the Alvin Ailey CitiGroup Theater. Tickets are $45.
Jan. 8 at Troy Savings Bank Music Hall, Troy, NY
The Lift Series (a series curated by myself and Sam Torres) returns with Doom Dogs, an improv supergroup with Reeves Gabrels (The Cure, David Bowie), Jonathan Kane (Swans), and Jair-Rohm Parker Wells (Embryo, Machine Gun). Tickets are $25.
Jan. 26 at Zankel Music Center, Skidmore College, Saratoga, NY
My next solo performance, on the brand new Surround Series. These shows are impeccably curated, intimate, and visually gorgeous. There will be multiple pianos :) Tickets are $22.
Feb. 15 at Little City Concerts, Falls Church, VA
Solo concert in partnership with OAR (Offender Aid and Restoration). Tickets are $25 with 50% of ticket sales going to this amazing organization. OAR is a community-based nonprofit organization that envisions a safe & thriving community where those impacted by the legal system enjoy equal civil & human rights.
Tender readers, it has been too long since I wrote. I have been swinging from one high to the next, interspersed with quiet moments of despair and heartache. My inbox is flooded with newsletters from introverts and poets (theirs are the wise words I gravitate towards when I’m looking for a mirror or a jolt), and I learn from them that it’s ok. It’s ok to just be. Just keep creating. Just keep loving.
Everywhere I look, I see the same emotional whiplash — folks finding care in their immediate community, rage at being abandoned by leaders, solace in a morning walk, disgust at condoned global atrocities, comfort in laughter with friends, fear of what comes next, nourishment in a simple bowl of soup.
A few mornings ago, I was reading David Whyte’s latest newsletter (one of my favorite poets and thinkers), and I found myself near tears. Here’s an excerpt, which is in turn an excerpt from his book Consolations II, on the word echo:
Echo tells us that whatever we give out to the world, will be returned to us, in ways we only half-recognize; what looks like self-repetition is actually a deepening and gradual revelation. In an echo, we are granted the ability to hear our own voice, in its truth and in its falsity. Echo also echoes with our intuitions around time: whatever we generate will come back to us in succeeding generations, everything sent away or lost will return, one way or another, in a beautiful, skewed, not quite symmetrical version of its own first issuance; echo is the sense and the deep unconscious relief that we will eventually, if we listen closely to far off things, be answered, and hope above hope, answered in the way we wish to be answered.
I am currently sitting in a home that is not my own, eating a can of lentil vegetable soup while I write. It’s been a while since I’ve eaten canned soup; it’s nourishing in its simplicity.
I’m at an artists’ residency for 10 days. I have a beautiful property all to myself and I’m here with no other expectation than to be an artist. What could be better? Truthfully, I almost didn’t come.
It’s been an intense past few months (years). I know we’re all feeling it. The last thing I wanted was to be away from home, from my husband and cats, and from my city and community. I want to snuggle in my bed. I want to walk down my alley to morning coffee with a friend.
But I’m glad I’m here. Today is my third full day and I find myself slowly finding a rhythm. I don’t know what will come from my time here, but I do know it’s a gift, and gifts are meant to be passed on.
We’ve likely read the same ad nauseam post-election think pieces, the same horror stories about our crumbling democracy, the same essays about our dystopian ruling class of billionaires. I have nothing to add. It’s scary.
What feels abundantly clear is that our communities are everything. If you’re reading this, that means you. You’ve listened to my music, come to a concert, bought a record, shared my work with a friend, or simply engaged with me on some basic level, which means you have kept me afloat — both financially and spiritually. I can’t say this clearly enough: thank you.
….echo is the sense and the deep unconscious relief that we will eventually, if we listen closely to far off things, be answered, and hope above hope, answered in the way we wish to be answered.
Recently, I have been settling into the deep, comforting relief that comes from knowing that what we put out into the world will come back to us in one form or another. This is a new feeling for me. I don’t know what the echo will look like. What it will sound like. How it will feel. I do know it will be transformed, maybe unrecognizable, and an echo nonetheless.
We just have to listen closely to far off things.
If there’s one thing I want to say to you, it’s that what you put out in the world matters. It will return to you.
xoxo
sophia
PS -
If you’re gift-buying this holiday season, wherever you’re located, I implore you to support your local, small businesses — the makers, the creators, the folks who are nourishing their communities. We’ve been seeing it in my town for a while: they’re hurting and disappearing. Support them now and year-round.
Individual musicians and artists are also small businesses. If you’re so inclined, I think vinyl makes a terrific gift. Explore bandcamp and discover your next favorite independent musician. Your purchase will rock their world, guaranteed. You can find my record here.
I loved this Sophia - that residency spot looks beautiful!