By Dr. Tim Seelig –
Just when you think you’ve checked something big off your bucket list, the universe tosses in a few more. My current earworm is that old song, “There’s a hole in my bucket, dear Liza.” I don’t know who Liza is and the lyrics are not supposed to be, “There’s a hole in my bucket list.” But my bucket appears to be a sieve.
The thing that was checked off the list happened the weekend of November 23, 2025, in New York City. It was one thrill after another. This was not a casual jaunt to the Big Apple. It was a weekend that a small band of us had been quietly, and sometimes loudly, preparing for over two years. OK, make that 25.
In 2023, I innocently sent a short text to my friend Gary Rifkin, asking whether he thought there might be interest in commemorating the 25th anniversary of a huge work we had commissioned in 2000. He texted back, “Sure.” With that deceptively simple reply, off we went. There were six of us, five of whom had been on the original commissioning committee all those years ago. A reunion was baked right into the dream. They were Gary, Kim Wisdom, Colleen Darraugh, Peter Anderson, Dan England, and this feller named Tim. One of the biggest tasks was raising tens of thousands of dollars to make sure people who couldn’t afford the trip had a source for some scholarship help as well as hiring some of the most talented people on earth to play, sing, narrate.
The anticipation? Epic. The result? Epicer! [sic] But what unfolded that weekend far exceeded even our wildest imaginings. We gathered to honor the 25th anniversary of the world premiere of Sing for the Cure, the choral symphony about breast cancer. Its subtitle, “A Proclamation of Hope,” has carried thousands of singers and audience members through some of the most difficult seasons of their lives. Since its birth in 2000, it has been performed around the globe, including in San Francisco last month.
If you would like to know more about bucket lists or Sing for the Cure, please check out these articles in my column in the San Francisco Bay Times: https://bit.ly/48kNXXH and https://bit.ly/4opWQ6Y
For nearly two years we’d been assembling singers for this moment. Finally, on Friday, November 21, 190 people walked into a rehearsal room at Fordham University Lincoln Center. Many had been friends for much more than 25 years. Others were meeting for the first time. Emotions were palpable. The singers flipped open their scores, used tablets, or sang from memory. Regardless, we were literally on the same page as we sang the first notes—joining voices and hearts.
We opened with lyrics from the final movement: “We are one voice. We will not be silent ’til the ribbons that we wear wave like banners in the air.” At the world premiere, those ribbons had been half pink for breast cancer awareness and half red for AIDS awareness, providing a reminder of how layered our shared history is. We were reminded that we were not just singing about breast cancer, or cancer, but the cancer present in our country. It added poignance to every note we sang.
The rehearsals filled the entire weekend as piece by piece snapped into place and the singers became a choir. Before we knew it, we were standing on the stage of the breathtakingly beautiful David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center. It has undergone a $500 million renovation. The chairs are fabulous! On stage were a massive chorus, a full orchestra, soloists, and narrators. Speaking of narrators, ours was Dallas actor Denise Lee and her daughter, Traci, now performing on Broadway. They knocked it way out of the park. The final ingredient was the icing on the musical cake: an electric audience that filled the hall. It was more than a concert; it was the culmination of decades of work and love from thousands of people. It was a homecoming, a celebration of art, memory, and survival.
Every single singer who traveled, literally from all corners of the world, had their own deeply personal reason for coming. Many had lost loved ones to breast cancer or other cancers. Many were breast cancer survivors themselves. Pamela Tomlinson’s lyrics are so exquisitely crafted and the ten composers set them so perfectly that, in many cases, your only job is to open your mouth and let the magic happen.
Because it was New York City, the weekend wasn’t only about Sing for the Cure. For Bobby Jo and me, it became a deeply personal experience wrapped in all the magic NYC insists on offering its guests. Between rehearsals we did what one does in New York: squeezed in shows, ate lots of amazing food, soaked in the city, and had tea with Stephen Schwartz.
Yes. That Stephen Schwartz.
I dropped that in as if it were a normal Monday activity. Not so much.
Stephen has been a friend for over 13 years since the first piece he wrote for the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus: Testimony. Over the years, SFGMC commissioned multiple works from him, and he has remained a cherished collaborator. I let him know we were in town, and he said, “Come over to my apartment. I’ll make you a cup of tea.” Of course, we accepted the invitation. We’d just seen his latest musical, The Queen of Versailles, starring another friend, Kristin Chenoweth. We loved it. Sitting in Stephen’s apartment, we chatted about music, legacy, the future, and, yes, three potential new projects. Hopefully you will get to see the projects come to fruition over the next couple of years. Of course, I’ll write about them.
Then we talked about Bobby’s music, how more of the world might experience it, and what’s next for him. Ending the weekend visiting with one of the giants of our field felt both surreal and the natural culmination of many years working together and nurturing a friendship. Stephen was instrumental in helping me through the death of my daughter. I will always be grateful to him for that. His words are with me today. He is one of the most generous people with his time and talent I have ever known. Did we get a selfie with our tea? Heavens no. How tacky would that be?
This article could go on and on, and, believe me, the weekend provided enough stories to fill a book. I’ll leave that to another time. This proclamation of hope happened at a time we needed it most.
The concert is currently streaming online and will remain available on YouTube through December 26, 2025: https://bit.ly/4iuJV23
Dr. Tim Seelig is the Conductor Laureate of the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus. http://www.timseelig.com/
TLC: Tears, Laughs and Conversation
Published on December 4, 2025
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