A mysterious illness washed over a traveling French youth choir during a performance at St. Paul’s Parish in Cambridge on July 22. The young performers, ages 8 to 14, experienced seizurelike symptoms en masse and were whisked away to a local hospital. A hazmat team combed the sacred interior for noxious gas (some people reported a strange odor), but nothing was found. The children were released from medical care with a clean bill of health, and left town as swiftly as they had arrived. The ultimate cause of their collective affliction remains a mystery.
The strange episode, which sounds like it was ripped from the pages of a gothic horror novel, fascinated me. All the more so for the story’s unresolved conclusion. What happened to these children?
Local outlets pounced on the story with coverage at Cambridge Day, The Harvard Crimson, The Boston Globe and more. In short order, national news media such as USA Today and ABC News picked it up.
Reports from these reputable news providers remained dutifully within the bounds of available facts. That is to say, they pointed to the itch but refused to scratch it. For juicy, untethered speculation about what caused the French choir’s mass illness you had to trawl the comment threads and message boards.
I’ve done the yeoman’s work of rounding up a few of the most popular conspiracy theories offered by Internet yahoos to explain the Chœur d’Enfants d’Île-de-France episode.
Cause No. 1: Mass hysteria. Online medicos dressed up this amateur diagnosis in more formal language, calling it “mass psychogenic illness,” describing a situation in which symptoms spread throughout a population where there is no infectious agent causing the contagion. Real cases of mass hysteria are rare, though history buffs pointed to the strange behavior of the women implicated in the Salem witch trials as a local historical precedent.
Cause No. 2: Satan. From the psychological to the supernatural. If it walks like a scene from a horror movie and talks like a scene from a horror movie, then maybe Satan is to blame? If “The Exorcist” has taught us anything, it’s that Satan targets the most innocent and cherubic among us, which would place a bunch of choir kiddos in the crosshairs. And let it not go without mention that Ozzy Osbourne, who shares with Satan the nickname “Prince of Darkness,” died on that same Tuesday. Coincidence?
Cause No. 3: Adverse reaction to sundry poisons. Were the incense fumes too powerful? Yet the audience suffered no ill effects. Did the choir kiddos gobble up or vape some of our newly legalized cannabis products? It’s not clear where or how French-speaking 8- to 14-year-olds would acquire such contraband. Would they hang around the entrance of a pot shop, look for a ripe sucker to “shoulder tap,” slip them a few euros and wait around the corner for the goods? Or maybe waltz right up to the counter with a “Pardon, monsieur. Mon grand-père m’a envoyé chercher ses ‘edibles,’ s’il vous plaît”?
Cause No. 4: exhaustion. This is the most likely theory. I’ve been unable to find the complete itinerary of the choir’s U.S. tour, but I can confirm the following dates:
July 19: First Presbyterian Church of Moorestown, New Jersey
July 20: St. Mary’s Parish of Shrewsbury
July 22: St. Paul’s Parish of Cambridge
July 24: St. John’s Catholic Church of Bangor, Maine
The one-day turnaround from New Jersey to Massachusetts would be rough for a full-grown adult, never mind a choir kiddo shaking off jet lag. Sure, “seizurelike symptoms” are not how most people manifest exhaustion, but kids are weird and French kids are weirder.
I’d also like to imagine that there was an added “work stoppage” component. The French being the French, no matter what age, they’re not going to give up les vacances without a fight. At some free moment on July 22, away from the prying eyes of their slave-driving chaperones, the choir kiddos gathered to hatch a plan pour une petite révolution at the Cambridge performance.
Whatever the explanation, the Chœur d’Enfants d’Île-de-France was back on the road the next day. They made their July 24 date in Bangor. No further seizures reported. But with performers this young, you’re always left to wonder whether they’re as committed to Sparkle Motion as the adults …
Hit this
Sunday: Time & Place, Broken Daisies, The Only Humans (The Jungle, Somerville)
Time & Place calls themselves “Leftist Americana.” I call them folk punk. Six of one, half dozen of the other. The Boston band released a self-titled LP in June full of banjo-, fiddle-, mandolin- and guitar-charged tunes with titles such as “Manifesto,” “On The Breadlines” and “There’s No War Like Class War.” Music has always been a propaedeutic to revolution. Will the Resistance take hold on Sunday? You’ll have to show up to find out. Alt-rockers Broken Daisies and The Only Humans fight the good fight in support.
Aug. 7: Lost Film, Ivy Boy, Wooll (Lilypad, Cambridge)
An indie rock triple stack converges at Lilypad on Thirsty Thursday. Lost Film will be rolling into town from Western Massachusetts. The band custom-printed matchboxes with the cover art of their latest single “Pilot Light.” Get it? A fun lark. Ivy Boy is a solo project by Beeef guitarist and vocalist Perry Eaton – a debut album is due out in the fall. And Wooll, a dreampop group out of Providence, should consider adding an extra “W” to the front of their name to break through to a higher level of symmetry with the moniker “Wwooll.”
Aug. 7-9: Somergloom (Deep Cuts/Crystal Ballroom, Medford/Somerville)
The wait is over. The ’Gloom begins. Three nights, two venues, 16 bands, one chance to celebrate the heavy music festival’s fifth anniversary. Did you get all of that? We’re spitting numerology over here. Sumac on Saturday night is the band that all the other bands sound most excited about catching. The band pops up on Google Search as a “supergroup.” I’ve also seen the epithet “powerhouse trio.” Fair enough. Membership includes Aaron Turner (Isis, Old Man Gloom, Mamiffer), Nick Yacyshyn (Baptists) and Brian Cook (Russian Circles, These Arms Are Snakes). In the world of postmetal and heavy sounds, this is a resume that will land you the job.
Live: Cameron Spann and Friends at Urban Park (Kendall Center)
Percussionist Cameron Spann led a flock of fellow Berklee students through their jazz paces on a rooftop garden in Kendall Square the day Ozzy Osbourne died.
Down below the city mourned. Every dive (and dive-adjacent) bar in town had the Wizard of Ozz flowing through the house mix. Flat Top Johnny’s favored the Black Sabbath era. The Jungle remembered the Prince of Darkness’ solo career with middle and late selections. All the while eyeliner-stained tears filled the streets with sadness.
Except in the breezy upper reaches of the rooftop garden. The sky was blue and the outlook sunny as four young musicians warmed up on the stage overlooking biotech office high-rises in various states of being and becoming. A combination of bass, keys, drums and saxophone proved the magic elixir to remind you that even as one candle gets snuffed out, yet more creative flames are enkindled.
Like Dr. Ian Malcom once said: “Life finds a way.”
Music found a way in Kendall Square, the rare neighborhood where the landscape still looks like the architect’s digital renderings years after construction has been completed. Full of copied and pasted trees. Bizarre urban design ornamentation straight out of SimCity. Empty office park cul-de-sacs used for nothing by nobody. It’s a place where the je ne sais quoi of spontaneous human interaction has trouble taking root.
Berklee College of Music to the rescue. The school is collaborating with local municipalities to produce the Berklee Summer in the City series, featuring more than 200 pop-up concerts by faculty and staff throughout the Boston area. From Kendall Center to the ICA, from Regattabar to Spectacle Island, from Club Passim to the Prudential Center there are signs of life in places where you might and might not expect them.
The audience at Urban Park perked up when it heard Spann rattle off the opening drum line of Bel Biv DeVoe’s classic “Poison.” What followed was an expansive progressive jazz interpretation of the Boston R&B group’s 1991 hit, which sizzled as an instrumental even if you didn’t get to hear smooth as silk lyrics such as “Never trust a big butt and a smile.”
An irreverent selection? In the staid and overpaid glassy offices of Kendall Square, a little irreverence is just what the doctor ordered. At least Spann wasn’t biting the heads off live bats.
Michael Gutierrez is an author, educator, activist and editor-in-chief at Hump Day News.
A stronger
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