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It
was the turbulent Sixties . . . the height of the Viet Nam War
. . . a time for youthful questioning of authority, of the military
draft, of one generation’s traditions by the other . . .
a decade for reassessing religious, political and social institutions
. . .
Mark
Haskett was just out of high school, accepted into college
on a track to enter the ministry. He’d also been given a
“1-A” draft classification, and his application for
a Conscientious Objector deferment (on the grounds that fighting
a senseless war shouldn’t be the only definition of “national
service”) had just been rejected by his local draft board.
Only a high number in the first year of the lottery kept him from
leaving the U.S. — whether on a transport to Viet Nam or
a bus to Canada.
After trading
divinity school for the study of philsophy, Mark was asked by
a classmate to sing at his upcoming wedding. Despite a repertoire
of then-popular standards like The Carpenters’ “We’ve
Only Just Begun,” Mark kept returning for inspiration to
a chapter he’d read in Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet,
entitled “On Marriage.” The decades-old treasury of
poetic homilies had made a literary comeback during the Sixties,
the book’s universal wisdom and practical spirituality lending
its voice to yet another generation searching for Truth without
the baggage of existing institutions.
The chapter
“On Marriage”— or counsel, as Gibran preferred
to call The Prophet’s thematic sections — had been
quoted at countless wedding ceremonies ever since the book was
published in 1926. But, so far as Mark could find, the words had
never been sung.
Drawing on
the music he’d grown up with — Bob Dylan; Peter, Paul
and Mary; The Beatles — Mark set “On Marriage”
to guitar chords during the course of one afternoon, also writing
a melody line and a harmony part for his own soon-to-be wife,
Nancy. Within weeks after performing the song it became a staple
at the weddings of other friends and acquaintances. People soon
asked Mark to adapt Gibran’s poetry to other life-cycle
events, from childbirths to funerals. Over the next several years
he set most of The Prophet’s other counsels to music as
well, structuring the free-form verse into stanzas and refrains,
rearranging the order of the lines, but always preserving Gibran’s
exact words and unmistakable prose. Drawing on a broader range
of musical styles and favorite musicians — from Joni Mitchell
and James Taylor to Dan Fogelberg and Frank Sinatra, from Jesus
Christ Superstar to Chicago — the songs began to take on
their own distinctive flavors.
However, with Mark’s first public performance of the collection
(as the Sunday-morning service at a local Unitarian Fellowship),
the guitar-accompanied songs still felt more like folk ballads
than the diverse, fully-orchestrated pieces Mark had always “heard”
playing in his imagination.
The music
sat on the proverbial shelf for almost a decade when Mark stumbled
onto former musical director for The Manhattan Transfer, Dave
Wallace, living in the same town. He soon teamed up with Dave
to explore some alternative stylings and a “bigger sound”
for the songs. A digital keyboard and a few new arrangements helped
add another dimension; and though Dave was unable to continue
working on the project (he died of cancer in 2007), his efforts
pointed toward the unlocked potential in Mark’s original
melodies.
That potential
also inspired Mark to resolve one of the remaining “difficulties”
with the music. While the melodies and arrangements were created
(and even copyrighted) by Mark, the words belonged to author Kahlil
Gibran — or rather, to Gibran’s estate, now controlled
by no less an institution that The Gibran National Committee headquartered
in the poet’s birth country, Lebanon. (Gibran emigrated
as a child along with most of his family, from Lebanon to the
United States, in 1895. A brief biography may be found elsewhere
on this website.) Mark’s initial efforts to obtain formal
permission to use Gibran’s words in a future recording were
unsuccessful. The book’s publisher, Alfred R. Knopf, could
not grant a license, and permission seemed stymied by the entanglements
of international copyright law — not to mention the difficulties
of negotiating with a committee in faraway country whose internal
strife made America’s “Sixties revolution” look
like a stroll in the park.
Meanwhile,
reinspired by his earlier insterest in theology, and by a dozen
years serving on the board of a local interfaith organization,
Mark founded his own non-profit group dedicated to building understanding
and cooperation between different religious (and secular) communities.
His new organization, InnerFaith Resources, sought to bridge the
gaps of mutual ignorance, as well as deepen appreciation for a
life of faith by sponsoring Spritual Issues Forums, Songs &
Stories gatherings, and events like their popular Inter-Religious
Thanksgiving Celebration.
Writing back
to the Gibran National Committee as Executive Director for his
organization, Mark received a more sympathetic hearing —
after all, it was also one of Gibran’s goals to help build
understanding between religious and ethnic communities. After
Mark offered to dedicate profits from any future CD to the ongoing
work of InnerFaith Resources, a contract was signed authorizing
his use of Gibran’s poetry.
Mark promptly
returned to the task of assembling a group of back-up musicians
who were not only talented, but were themselves inspired by The
Prophet.
Through the auspices of his local Arts Council — notably
director Grace Lieberman and board member Brenda Francis —
Mark connected with Lucky Lew, a studio owner and recording engineer
who was also an accomplished musician. Lucky promptly enlisted
several key players and the resulting group, eventually dubbed
“ProphetSong,” began to record in the summer of 2006.
Mark Little,
a twice Grammy-nominated keyboard artist, was especially helpful
in creating a more unique sound for each of the songs, building
on the previous work of Dave Wallace and on the character already
inherent in the music. Award-winning “gypsy violonist”
Kim Angelis, aware of Haskett’s project since meeting him
at one of her concerts, volunteered to contribute her passionate
playing on two of his songs. With Lucky providing both lead guitar
and bass, and his friend Dave Hawks laying down percussion tracks,
the music slowly took shape.
Back-up vocals
presented a special challenge. While Mark had overdubbed his own
harmony parts in early versions of the music, it was ultimately
decided that a completely different vocal accompaniment would
enhance the songs. Theatrical songstress Shelly Bort, who had
wanted to accompany Mark on his song “On Laws” for
years, added her bluesy vocals not only to that composition, but
to his exuberant “On Pleasure.” For the other ten
songs, an informal talent search turned up a promising vocal student
at the nearby University. With a range from mid-alto to crystaline
soprano, Katy Burrough’s voice was not only surprisingly
well-suited to complement Mark’s lead, her ear for the tight
harmonies and sometimes complex syncopation of the phrasing made
the combined voices sound as effortless as they are soaring.
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