Today is Peter’s birthday—he would have been 56, which still sounds so young. Too young. It’s hard to believe it’s been nearly a year and a half since he died. It feels like it’s been at least twice that long. So much has changed, and keeps changing. That’s life’s only constant.

I had planned to make this a sort of retreat day, to spend the day in Peter’s studio, organizing, archiving, cleaning, weeding, and finally hanging the posters that have been propped on a ledge for the last decade, being with Peter’s spirit and tending to his workspace and his music. I’ve been doing some of this over the past year, but now I am doing it in earnest, partly so that I know what’s down there and where to find it when I need it (who knew that there were orchestra parts for “Smirnov’s Lament” from Peter’s short operetta, The Bear?). And partly because it feels important now to lighten up the space, to relieve it of its obsolete, stagnant items like dictionary-sized software manuals (remember those?) from the 2000s, broken headphones and printers, Zip drives, and the other random detritus that accumulates through the years, and make room for the future, for new possibilities for his music.

The hundreds of books, scores, and CDs that are neatly stored on their shelves will remain there, along with some sentimental items like awards, photos, drawings, childhood love notes from Grace, and a bobblehead of 49ers quarterback Jimmy Garoppolo, which serves as a reminder of just how quickly things can change.

On Peter’s bookshelf, he kept a “praise jar” with little folded up pieces of paper—printed out quotes and emails whenever someone wrote something supportive about his work. Though he didn’t often get the support and recognition he deserved in the “business of show,” as he called it—at least in the way that really matters, which is in the form of productions, performances, and opportunities—he could at least bolster himself when feeling down with thoughtful words of praise from those who did recognize his brilliance and took the time to say so. I think Mano wins the prize for the most slips of paper in there, but who’s counting? I like the idea of it, and I love that Peter did that for himself. I know I did my best to hold him up through the years—a devotion that was often joyful, spontaneous, and effortless, and at other times required great reserves of emotional energy, focus, and persistence—all born out of my deep, abiding love and admiration for him. I miss him so.

As you know, I am now transferring some of that immense love to keeping his music alive and furthering his artistic legacy through the Peter Foley Music Project. It’s been a perfect channel to redirect some of my grief and loneliness this year into something deeply meaningful—continuing not only to hold Peter up, but to hold him up higher, to strengthen his light through collective effort so more of the world can finally see it and be touched by its radiance.

To that end, I’m overjoyed to celebrate Peter’s birthday with you by announcing the launch of a beautiful new website for the Peter Foley Music Project.

The site is a sort of extension of the praise jar—an unabashed source of praise for Peter's work, which is something he would have been too modest and embarrassed to do so blatantly. But the rest of us can do it shamelessly for him!

I hope you'll enjoy exploring the new site and enjoy Peter’s gift to you—gorgeous music to listen to! (If you dig deeply, you can hear Peter singing on some of the recordings.) We are enormously grateful to Mark Badger, a fellow Yale Alley Cat alum and wonderful designer, for creating the site.

Dear ones, I’ve been so moved by the way you have stepped up these past 18 months, for me personally, for Grace, and to help get the Peter Foley Music Project off the ground. Holding us up with, “What do you need?” and “How can I help?” and your many messages of love and invitations for walks and get togethers. Thank you for your kindness, generosity, love, and support. The pain of Peter's absence is still acute at times and it means so much to stay connected and to know that we continue to be held by this vast and beautiful community.

There’s so much more I could write, but the studio is calling. Please keep Peter in your hearts today and send a little prayer or good wish to his soul, if you will. I know he would love to hear from you.

Love,
Kate

P.S. I’ll be sharing future news related to Peter’s music and the Peter Foley Music Project through our e-newsletter rather than here, so if you aren’t already receiving emails from PFMP, please sign up here. AND, IMPORTANTLY:

Please plan to join us for

Out of Myself: Songs of Peter Foley

June 5, 2023 @ 7:30 pm

Symphony Space, NYC

Come hear Broadway’s finest perform a dazzling range of Peter Foley’s songs from The Hidden Sky, The Names We Gave Him, Bloom, and more, in a one-night-only, all-Foley concert at Symphony Space in New York City. Tickets go on sale in March. Mark your calendar now and stay tuned for announcements about artists, tickets, and more. We look forward to seeing you there!