It was my former student, Joey Fala, who first texted me this morning about the death of Edith Ho. “I just saw Edith Ho passed away.” He apparently had received the news from Walden Moore, (whom I met when I visited Joey at Yale) who wrote:

So very sorry to hear of the passing of Edith Ho, organist at United Church, New Haven in the mid 1970’s, followed by a long and distinguished tenure at Boston’s Church of the Advent. Her strong and uncompromising standards of music were grounded in a sure faith in its important role in the liturgy of the church. Whenever I would see her, she was unfailingly and genuinely interested in the work that I was doing in New Haven, and she continued to be interested in the work of the next generation. May she now rest well, having served her Lord to the fullest.

Tributes are pouring in from all over the country for Edith Ho, the long-time director of music and organist at the Church of Advent in Boston. In case you are not a Facebook user, here are some of them which were posted to Facebook today.

(Dana Marsh) Deeply saddened at the news that Edith Ho passed away early this morning. It wouldn’t be possible to articulate in words what a true friend she was to me over the past 25-30 years. Equally difficult would be explaining with due credit what a shining star she was musically in the field of church music – and that, in greatest humility. I’ll never forget hearing my first LP of her choir at the Advent when I was 22 years old or so. It blew me away. This was at a moment when the E(arly) M(usic) ensembles that are household names today hadn’t yet reached broad recognition. Many are the choir directors that have simply tried to emulate what they’ve heard from such recordings. Edith achieved everything she did through her own meticulous originality and effort of the very highest integrity. She was light years ahead of many when it came to bringing early repertories back to recognition – well before it was in fashion. She was the real thing. I regularly sent her recordings of my own work back in the 90s for comment. I was thrilled that she even wanted multiple copies of one of them to give to friends as gifts! She supported me so loyally in my early career. Without her generosity, I would have never been able to enter the D.Phil. program at Oxford. There are so many serendipitous ways that she pushed me forward and lifted me up. Without these influences, I would be living a different life.The heavenly order of music will be that much more coherent and astoundingly vivid with her crowning its ranks. Requiescat in pace, dear Edith!

======= An aside. If you read carefully the donor lists in our major productions at the Lutheran Church of Honolulu, you will read the name Edith Ho as listed in every single one: Bach St. Matthew Passion, Bach St. John Passion, and Bach Mass in B Minor. Edith’s gifts to our program at LCH were substantial: $500, $1,000 each time.

(Paul Flight) This is a huge moment for me also. I was very likely singing on that LP which she shared with you. I joined the Advent choir in the mid 1980’s and I still remember vividly both the great musicians in the choir and Edith’s meticulous demands of us. Her choir from the 1908’s remains one of the most stellar ensembles I have ever been a part of. I will miss her! Somehow you think people will just keep on going and going, but alas it isn’t so.

(Katelyn Emerson) Edith Ho passed away this morning, aged 89, concluding a life well-lived but too short. Ripples are being felt through the world of sacred music and beyond, as her impact on church music broadly and church music at Boston’s the Church of the Advent specifically, cannot be overstated. I knew Edith as the Advent’s Organist & Choirmaster Emerita, ever aware of her presence in the back row listening to every piece of music with rapt attention and even, occasionally, critical reflection. One wouldn’t think it ideal to have a former director of music at every service, but it always seemed to me that Edith took to this role with grace and a brilliant (although arguably unintended) sense of humor, always rushing to be the first one at the organ bench after each service to share her joy at the day’s music and , most often, praise for how it was done. Over lunches around the corner at the infamous King & I and even an unforgettable teatime at her home in Newton, I had the incredible privilege of learning from her and hearing some extraordinary stories. Her generosity was shown through sharing her time and her resources, even, upon remembering that I would not receive one upon concluding my studies in Germany, bequeathing her masters hood to me so I “would have something to wear to Lessons & Carols,” an honor that I found completely overwhelming – and still do.Above all, Edith seemed to most treasure discussing her admiration of the work of Mark Dwyer, her worthy successor in Boston, and Ross Wood, the Associate with whom she worked before retirement, both dear friends of whom she could never speak highly or often enough. Some much of what I knew her life to be was revolved around her influence and legacy at this incredible church on Boston’s Beacon Hill, yet she was and remains a woman much greater than even this great city. Requiescat in pace, dear Edith. You are already missed, and the music you made and inspired lives on.

(Ross Wood) Edith Ho was, in her preferred language, sui generis. It was my honor to serve as associate musician during the last six years of her remarkable career as organist-choirmaster at Church of the Advent, three decades marked by consistently outstanding musical achievement. Please permit me to offer these reminiscences in a spirit of gratitude and affection. Legendary for exacting standards long before my arrival in 2001, I approached my new position with three parts good oil of anticipation to one part sharp vinegar of trepidation. There were certainly Sundays when the proportions were reversed, but in Edith I immediately found a colleague as supportive as she was demanding. If Mass had gone to her liking she was instantly there to compliment, to thank, and to encourage. “Ross, how do you do that? You are inhuman!” was Edith’s highest praise. Whenever Edith wished things might have gone differently, she invariably expressed her feelings in a manner that illuminated the path toward the goal. I treasure my collection of handwritten notes that had a way of finding their way under my office door for discovery on Tuesday mornings. “Hymn tempi much better now, after all the initial excitement — many thanks.” “Your accompaniment of __ excellent, especially for your first time out. Have you started looking at Judith Weir’s ‘Ascending Into Heaven’ yet? She’ll be here when we perform it.” “Your downbeats could be more precise, so the choir knows when to sing and stays together across sides. I can show you if you like.”Concluding Franck’s Fantaisie in A as an appropriately festive prelude (thought I) one Christ the King Sunday, just before the doors opened for the hymn in procession Edith stage-whispered, exactly as Mrs. Danvers might to Rebecca at that high open window: “Do you *like* that piece?” Note to self: finally answer the question should we meet again. It was impossible not to admire the single-minded passion, devotion, and tenacity Edith lavished upon her music-making. A very colorful character who happened to see the world largely in black-and-white, I couldn’t help but envy her such a prodigious gift of certainty. Edith always knew exactly what she wanted and gave the pursuit of excellence her all. Her journey out of China at a dangerous time, her path all the way from Seventh-Day Adventist missionaries to Church of the Advent every seventh day make a compelling story of striving and achievement. While Edith had given up playing the organ by the time I knew her, recordings make clear she was a blazing performer back in the day, the product of Peabody and subsequent study in Germany with Helmut Walcha and Heinz Wunderlich. Also easily overlooked was Edith’s enormous personal generosity, demonstrated in untold acts of self-effacing kindness to those in need. Edith would have given the blouse off her back if asked. Edith also had a keen sense of humor not everyone was privileged to encounter. “Ross, why did you agree to accompany that diocesan choir festival? Massed choirs = mass graves.” Gazing wistfully up at the Crystal Cathedral, down at scriptures poured into the concrete sidewalks leading up to it, then turning to us, “Gentlemen, if you will write the check for the sidewalk inscription I have chosen my scripture: JESUS WEPT.”Finally, how to forget Edith’s shifting dietary choices that could have benefited from a software program to determine acceptable ingredients for a dinner party? A morning-after phone call of profuse thanks for a birthday supper ringing off with “Do your joints ache?” “No, Edith, thanks for asking; I take it yours must.” “Gazpacho. So delicious. But tomatoes and peppers are NIGHTSHADES, you know.” Quizzed about my food and drink preferences, her look when I pointed out gin was entirely vegetarian and that Jesus’ first miracle was to make more wine for a party. Pearls of great price. One of Edith’s last requests in hospice care was for her shoes; she wanted to go home. No doubt she felt she still had work to do. You are home, Edith. Your monument — the Advent Choir — lives on. You will continue to thrive in the hearts and minds of those who admired, respected, feared, and loved you, each in appropriate measure. We all learned from you and would be the poorer without your example. Well done, thou good and faithful servant. May angels lead you into Paradise two to a bar, may Lazarus take off an eighth, may Crecquillon and Manchicourt kneel in gratitude for your efforts to rescue them from obscurity, and may Saint Gregory grasp the concept of a square formata without delay. I just hope they’re ready for you up there.

(Emily Lau) May you Rest In Peace, Edith Ho, the only person/colleague who could converse in Cantonese with me in Boston. A dear, warm, encouraging elder in my early career. Edith is a lifelong artist and never stopped chasing perfection and integration. Thank you for blazing the trail so that other yellow and brown women like myself have a place to be in this artistic world.

(Richard Sparks) Sorry to hear this—what a loss . . . but what a legacy as well.

(Stephen Ng) This was taken on Mother’s Day 2018, and I cannot believe that was the last time I saw her. Edith was the first person who hired me as a professional singer when I arrived the US in 1995. Singing under her at the Church of the Advent Choir in Boston was a privilege and honor. She was so kind to have taken me despite “I really need to work on my intonation and blend”. (She said that during my audition.) She was demanding, fast paced, and always to the point. I have learned SO MUCH from her and the choir on how to be a musician (for example, I was so afraid of transposing since I have perfect pitch). She offered me so many opportunities — cantoring, participated in the recordings and such throughout the years. (She even invited me back to Boston a number of times from Florida after I left.) It is simply hard to imagine her being gone. I trust she is in a better place now, and I am forever grateful to her kindness, care, and devotion to music and liturgy. RIP, Ms. Ho! I wouldn’t be who I am today without you! Thank you for all you have done!

(Rob Dobson) My years of singing with Edith at Church of the Advent are among my fondest memories. She was posting her almost daily Latin quotations until very recently. Her steely dedication to doing Renaissance masses in their proper liturgical context made Advent a rare place for many Boston early music singers. In that sense she was a true pillar of the world-renowned Boston early music community. We owe her a great debt. Her travails as an Asian woman in her field make her achievements all the more admirable.

(J Michael Compton) Hello, Katherine, I found your email address from an old email Edith sent me.  I was so shocked and saddened to learn of her death.  A friend showed me your insanity blog. The photo was taken in October, 1993. Like your husband, I was a countertenor.  When I auditioned for Edith, she said she liked my voice but she said she already had one countertenor, and she thought having two would make the alto section too brilliant sounding.  So I never sang in the Advent choir, but she was a mentor and friend to me all these years!

(James David Christie) I just received a very sad call this morning that EDITH HO, the beloved former organist-choirmaster at Church of the Advent, Boston, died early this morning around 6:30 am. Edith had been in declining health for several years and spent the last week of her life in hospice. She was an extraordinary musician and an equally extraordinary, loving human being and cherished friend. I was privileged to be able to visit her regularly during Covid, which was incredibly hard on her as she never left her Newton home except for medical visits. She missed mostly attending mass at the Advent, not being able to hear Mark at the organ and his excellent Advent Choir, and not being able to see all the people she loved and adored. Edith is now with her beloved husband, Paul. About a year ago she told me the next happiest day of her life would be the day she took her last breath and would begin her new life. Edith was a woman of great faith and believed that God and love were were all anyone needed to survive on this earth. Edith was only filled with kindness and love – anyone who knew her can attest to this.When she was able, Edith loved making her daily posts of scripture, prayers or canticles in Latin on Facebook – this is most appropriate post for her today: In paradisum deducant te Angeli;in tuo adventu suscipiant te martyres,et perducant te in civitatem sanctam Jerusalem.Chorus angelorum te suscipiat, et cum Lazaro quondam paupere æternam habeas requiem. May the angels lead you into paradise; may the martyrs receive you at your arrival and lead you to the holy city Jerusalem. May choirs of angels receive you and with Lazarus, who was once poor, may you have eternal rest.