Freyda Epstein
Nov 30, 1956 - May 17, 2003

We were in Corinth…yes, that Corinth, the one in Greece with the columns…when son Peter came in from visiting an internet café to let us know that our old friend, partner in crime and frequent musical collaborator, Freyda Epstein, had been killed in a tragic auto accident.

I met Freyda when she first joined the group Trapezoid in the late 1970’s. We immediately recognized a shared sense of playfulness about our music and a decidedly bent bent in our humor. Her sensuous fiddle playing…able to leap classical, swing, Irish, old time and new age in a single bound…and her creamy alto voice seemed to know no horizon unworthy of exploration. I’ve run into a few musicians in my day and I’ve never known anyone who musically grew more, seemingly before my very eyes than Freyda. She became both student and teacher, expert in the Alexander method and learning about vocal technique from some of the world masters. She came to my rescue after one too many rock and roll parties left my poor vocal chords nearly unusable for a month. Her wacky sense of humor, her deep spirituality and her remarkable musical insight is something that will not soon leave us. There’s a part of me that is occupied by Freyda that my sheer defiance refuses to cede.

Grief can be an immobilizing force. And it can also be a cleansing tonic. Carl Sagan, once noted that if Jesus, when he ascended to heaven, was traveling at the speed of light he would still be in our solar system. Imagine all the music that has been created, every note sung or played since the first musician lifted her voice in song, traveling at the relatively glacial speed of sound. We’re all still here, resonant, aloud. It gives us pause to imagine how far…and how long…we each travel. It’s what death does, as well: reminds us that we are each part of that symphonic whole. Resurrection, reincarnation, recycling…whatever you hold as what comes next, the only thing we have control of is what comes now. Freyda reminds me love bravely, sing loud, push boundaries and that healing and learning are often confused for not being the same thing. ¡Vaya con Diós, mi amiga!

Listen to John's new song, At The Moment, dedicated to Freyda Epstein.