A Historian’s Reflection on Music and Psychedelics

Wendy Kline

Nothing prepared me for this transcendental experience. By then, performing music in a church was part of my weekly routine. My mother was the junior choir director at St. Alban’s church, and I spent Wednesdays and Sundays singing under her direction. Saturday mornings were devoted to violin group lessons at St. Patrick’s. And four times per year, I performed in violin recitals at St. Patrick’s. A student was never allowed to perform a solo before it had been shaped and perfected, until it had undergone exposure and critical analysis in master classes and group lessons, leaving most of us in tears... continue reading.