HGC Foundation

            Last week, as I pondered what to say at this celebration, I looked back upon four years in the Harvard Glee Club and found myself at a loss for words. How could I possibly do justice to the friendships I’ve made, the music I’ve sung, the laughter and joy I’ve shared, with just a few short remarks? I searched in vain for some insight that could express everything I’d seen and sung and felt...and something stirred in my memory.

And so I put pen to paper and wrote a letter to myself. I sealed it in an envelope and addressed it, “Quentin Sedlacek – do not open until Spring 2008.” And so, last week, as I reflected on this anniversary and all the Glee Club has meant to me and to all of us, I remembered that letter. I turned around and looked at my bookshelf, and there it was – faithfully preserved for three years, and untouched. The moment had at last arrived. I picked up the envelope, opened it, and read – and I knew exactly what I wanted to say tonight: words written by an ordinary freshman, words that had nothing to do with being President of the Glee Club or with grand ceremonies and festive traditions. I wrote them nearly three years ago – but I can’t help but believe the same feelings have touched each of us during our time in HGC. They are the reason we crossed cities, states, and continents to attend this celebration – and so I’d like to share them with you now.

Dear Quentin,

For you, today, I am the past. I hope, however, that the feelings I express are still an important part of your present.

I sit here in my tails, trying to savor this moment of happiness. Brahms’ Ein Deutsches Requiem – the German Requiem, the Human Requiem – may be over, but it is very much a part of me now. Singing the second movement – the fugue! – thrilled me beyond all things. I could see an elderly couple at the very back of Sanders, bouncing back and forth in their seats to the rhythm of the basses’ incredible melody. I felt a thrill of joy, of sheer pleasure and excitement, welling up inside of me. Glee! That’s what it was – I felt so Gleeful! I know, now more than ever, that I belong on that stage, standing beside my greatest friends.

My friends – how can I explain what they mean to me? There’s not one of them I’ve known for more than a year, yet they’re as dear to me as my own family. We stood there, all of us, singing our hearts out to a packed theatre, a sold-out Sanders, and it was the best feeling in the world. Jim told us before the concert that the seventh movement of Brahms’s Requiem is one of the greatest endings to any piece of music ever written – and when we sang it tonight, I finally knew what he meant. “Selig sind die Toten, die in dem Herren sterben...blessed are the dead that die in the Lord.” It was a beautiful feeling – happiness and contentment washing over me there, onstage, as I finally understood what we were singing.

I hope you remember how tonight feels, both this night and the night you are now experiencing. Cherish that night, as I cherished this one. One year flew by so quickly; I’m sure three more passed just as fast, so remember how I – how you – felt.

Soon you’ll be moving on – not to bigger things, just different things. Remember the time you spend here, the joys you feel – remember the thrill that wells up inside you and catches in your throat as you sing proudly beside your friends and know what it is to be a part of the Harvard Glee Club. I hope you feel that joy and that pride today, tomorrow, and for the rest of your life, because every concert is something beautiful – and the Harvard Glee Club is something glorious.

Thank you.