Sep 1, 2019 4 min read

By John Santa

Editor

jsanta@observer-reporter.com

Few people have imparted great truths upon me like Chris Wollard and Chuck Ragan.

Granted, they weren’t speaking, or singing in their case, directly to me. I’ve never even had the pleasure of meeting the frontmen of Florida-bred punk band Hot Water Music, but their message got through all the same.

Pick a song from any of their albums, really, but “Forever and Counting,” “No Division” or “A Flight and a Crash” can directly transport me back to the exact time and place where the songs sung by those two men helped me better contemplate or understand a situation in which I was currently embroiled.

For better or worse, I owe those two men, and their bandmates, a great deal of gratitude for helping to shape the husband, father, son, brother and friend I am today.

This rabid music fan connected with Hot Water Music through their records and live performances maybe more than any other artists I’ve listened to over the years. The draw is inexplicable, but for most people, embracing a musician’s work like that clearly provides a visceral connection that can last a lifetime.

And if this edition of South Hills Living is any indication, I’m not alone in finding that connection.

The musicians highlighted in this magazine have devoted much of their lives to creating and consuming musical works of art on a level that is, frankly, staggering.

Take the story in this edition by staff writer Brad Hundt about the South Hills area churches which provide outlets for classical music fans to experience their favorite sonic masterpieces live and in color.

To commemorate the 250th anniversary of Johann Sebastian Bach’s death in 2000, Washington native Paul Jacobs staged an 18-hour marathon performance of each of the composer’s works at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Upper St. Clair.

In the 19 years since, Jacobs has won a Grammy and become one of the nation’s foremost experts in classical music. He has never forgotten his South Hills roots and for the past 10 years has staged a concert series at Westminster Presbyterian Church.

There are other South Hills area churches that host classical music series including St. Bernard Church in Mt. Lebanon and Our Lady of Grace Church in Scott Township. The 254-year-old Old St. Luke’s in Scott Township also hosts chamber music shows where concertgoers can hear songs that were popular when the likes of Haydn and Mozart were still alive.

The Rev. John Skirtich has a similar passion for music, as showcased in a story by staff writer Eleanor Bailey.

Skirtich, administrator of the South Hills Catholics Parish Grouping 218, is a member of the band The Soul Searchers, which plays shows in venues all around the Pittsburgh area.

Although they play secular rock ‘n’ roll songs, Skirtich finds joy in living his faith and spreading the messages of the Catholic religion to listeners through the effervescent performances The Soul Searchers put on.

If the kind of passion for music and life described in Eleanor’s story isn’t infectious, I don’t know what is.

Alas, I would be remiss if I didn’t write a little bit about staff writer Harry Funk in a column about the love of music.

Harry plays music, listens to music and is a living, breathing encyclopedia of knowledge regarding all sorts of sonic endeavors. In this issue, Harry writes about taking a drumming lesson from Subhas Das at Mt. Lebanon High School. The pictures from Harry’s lesson alone are worth the price of admission for this story, never mind the way he describes his zeal in learning to play another musical instrument.

Harry’s cover story for this edition also highlights the music of Tom Breiding, a talented singer-songwriter whose compositions beautifully describe the reality of the joy and pain felt by those living in America’s heartland.

Much like Skirtich, the tales of Breiding’s devotion to bringing about change through music are compelling and inspiring.

So, please enjoy this edition of South Hills Living. My wish for readers of this magazine is that they will be compelled to reconnect with some music that has brought them joy. I know I will.