Ringing On

One by one, members of Trinity University's Handbell Ensemble sound off in their small rehearsal room on the aft end of Parker Chapel, with soft chimes and low-rippling clangs. On cresting high Cs, the group rehearses "Bound for South Australia," a spirited sea shanty that combines bell-ringing with percussion and singing.

Like any good crew, each member of the ensemble, called a ringer, is indispensable. Miss a note, miss a beat, and the whole performance sinks.

For 50 years, Trinity ringers have breathed life into an art form typically associated with holidays and church choirs by pushing the potential of the instrument itself. In rehearsal, you'll hear bells ringing a full seven octaves, and you'll also see dramatic experimentation in sound design to produce new tones.

The bells have origin stories from across the world. Many were manufactured in foundries in the U.S., though some came from an old Dutch foundry that's been out of commission for 50 years. Ranging in weight from mere ounces to 15-plus pounds, the bells reflect light in brilliant brass and silver tones, gleaming in the careful hands of Trinity's ringers.

They ring a distinct tone, a warm vibration that echoes across Trinity's campus, sounding from a place of curiosity and creativity, a sense of connection between disciplines, demographics, and generations of Tigers.

"If you feel lonely, ever, find a bell ensemble," says Trinity University Handbell Director Stephanie Berryman. "This is a connection that doesn't end with the semester, because ringers ring for life."

Tight Circle

Berryman tells every ringer that the Handbell Ensemble is not a cult, but it comes close. "Ringers need each other. This is a collaborative instrument, and it attracts collaborative-natured people," she says.

These instruments are accessible because historically they've been a "bridge between serious music and, well… juggling," Berryman says. Yet, the true appeal of the bells is in their versatility. The group can switch from rhythmic seafaring tunes to Bach in the blink of an eye, from Christmas carols to experimental music, and … Bach again.

Ringers can get addicted. Hope Paschall '26, an English, Spanish, and Communication triple major, has played handbells since she was five. To Paschall, the chiming of Trinity's handbells creates a ring with an almost gravitational pull of its own, impossible for any member to escape.

Rehearsals start with seemingly unrelated warmups like juggling or tossing small bouncy balls, and occasionally yoga, Paschall notes.

This type of curiosity is a pre-req, not an oddity. "We're all weird in some way, shape, or form, and that is what draws us to handbells. We are a group of very eclectic people," Paschall says.

That type of belonging is contagious for ringers. "We're all friends here," says ringer Portia Berryman '27, the director's daughter. "And we rope our friends into joining, or we pester them until they join."

Growth has been tangible for the group. "We have 18 students this semester. We had eight last semester, but I didn't let them shrink their music down," Berryman says. "And I think that motivated them to go recruit a lot of people because now, that (rehearsal) room is really, really full."

What Else Do You Need?

The very first Trinity ringer didn't want to spend time in chapel at all.

Meet Clifford Whittle '79, a music major from Chattanooga, Tennessee. "The bells are quite special to me because I started the bell choir," he says, laughing. He attended a private military school in Tennessee with a bell choir of its own.

"My mother was livid that, with all the good schools in Tennessee, I was going 1,100 miles away to school," he says. "I was all set to go to Samford, but when they told me chapel was mandatory, I told [her], 'I ain't going!'"

Whittle ended up spending most of his time in Trinity's chapel anyway, making music with the chapel and chamber choirs. He was also determined for Trinity to start a handbell ensemble of its own, and pleaded the case to former Trinity Choir Director Claude Zetty and Chaplain Raymond Judd '56.

An initial donation from Whittle's father provided the first three octaves of bells, and the group struck luck on one of their first performances, suiting up and playing at a ladies' party hosted by Trinity Trustee Margarite B. Parker in her house in Olmos Park.

"She told us, 'This is just beautiful. Is there anything else that you need?'" Whittle remembers.

"We would really love to have five octaves of bells," Whittle replied. Next, Whittle recalls, Parker called Judd and said, "Get them those bells, and I'll write the check."

Innovation Across Generations

The Handbell Ensemble spent its early years playing mostly classical and religious music while experimenting with original works by innovative composers like Donald Allured.

The ensemble found a powerful, steadying hand in beloved director Diane Persellin. She was hired in 1982 and took generations of ringers to new heights.

Under Persellin, the ensemble became well-regarded for its warm, treasured Christmas concerts, a tradition she started in 1994. Her students were her pride and joy, and she became known for setting high expectations for her Tigers in a supportive environment.

As a teacher-scholar, Persellin brought her scholarship of learning and teaching into the classroom and community, authoring more than 100 publications on music while leading the Handbell Ensemble to national and international stages. Persellin helped the bells sound outside Trinity's campus, too: The group has dazzled from the Caribbean to Carnegie Hall; from cruise ships and cathedrals to recital rooms and Radio City Music Hall. Berryman, now in her fourth semester as director, recently jetted off to serve as a guest clinician in Singapore, continuing Persellin's tradition of helping the Trinity name echo across time zones and continents.

Before she passed away in December 2024, Persellin convinced Berryman to take up the mantle of director. As the group turns 50, Berryman says she remains inspired by Persellin's legacy and in awe of the handbell's timelessness.

"Diane was the force that elevated this program into a national name," Berryman says. "And she put Trinity in the position where we can now be one of the programs at the center of such a transitional point in the history of the instrument."

There's a wave of "amazing new music" being written, Berryman says, driven by "so many creative new ways of performing and techniques for performing. We're right in the thick of a really strong, evolving era of the instrument."

Curious Creativity

Trinity ringers do more than play music; they're invited to find new ways to play the handbells. "I'll ask the students, 'If you think there's a better way, show me what you want to do with this instrument,'" Berryman says.

For Paschall, that mindset turns a rehearsal space into a limitless laboratory. "This is a place for us to just start talking about 'what if'?" she says. "What if we drop rice around the bells? What happens if you put a bell in a glass in water? What about Mardi Gras beads? Wooden beads, plastic beads, what size of beads, how many beads? All the different ways that we can distort sound are really fun."

The group's most recent breakthrough has been a new ringing technique, "Twinkling," featured in industry magazine Overtones . Ringers use Mardi Gras beads to create a soft yet sustained percussive effect.

For discoveries like these, Trinity's ringers regularly draw on a diverse set of backgrounds in proposing new experimental ways to approach the bells.

"We've got (every major) from STEM to political science and education," Paschall says. "We have people who've gone on to Yale School of Music for organ performance, and we have people in there right now who have no idea how to read music."

That's the draw, Berryman says, of the breadth of a liberal arts environment like Trinity. "This rehearsal room, and this campus, are places where a mix of experiences helps us all learn from each other."

Full Circle

The Handbell Ensemble's spring 50th anniversary concert, titled I'm On a Boat , leans fully into the joy of creative mixture.

"We are playing something from the church tradition because we're playing 'I Saw Three Ships,' which is traditionally a Christmas carol," Berryman says. "But we're also playing 'Sail Away,' which was an old hit from back in the '90s. We're even playing movie score themes from Pirates of the Caribbean ."

Berryman says her students light up when the music is recognizable and contemporary and have fun exploring centuries-old pirate shanties, too.

"'Bound for South Australia,'" Portia Berryman adds, "is an absolute hoot."

Paschall says ringing is about collaboration and problem-solving, and bringing people together. But there's also something more important to her: "This really is about the joy. Here, you're not thinking about your worries, about stress. You are focused directly on what's in front of you. The joy of creating something to create it, and for no other purpose than to create it. That's incredible."

The echoing legacy of the Handbell Ensemble resonates with a simple, human need: Finding a close ring of people you can count on.

Whittle, who is back in Tennessee but has made the occasional trip to campus for a reunion concert or two, says he admires the determination of the generations of ringers who've followed the first echoes of his bells.

"I'm really impressed that handbell still exists at Trinity. There are lots of bells in churches gathering dust in cases and closets. People don't play them, so I'm so impressed that students today want to do it," Whittle says. "And I think that Trinity's leadership has a lot to do with it, because they inspire and motivate people. I think Diane really did that, and I've seen that from Stephanie, too."

Paschall says, "Ringing under both [Berryman and Persellin] has been one of the greatest joys of my Trinity career," and is thrilled to see Trinity preserve its traditions while finding new ways to sustain excitement about the ensemble across generations. "Mrs. Berryman has a great thumb on what's new, what's trendy, and what's fun," Paschall says. "She really wants to challenge us as well."

And as director, Berryman says the reward of that challenge is watching students realize that the group can only achieve true harmony when each individual locks in, usually for life. "We are all one instrument," she says of the crew she captains. "We count on you when you're here, and when you leave, we can't wait for you to come back and ring with us again as alumni."

Both Berryman and her students look forward to ringing with alumni at the spring concert, held April 21, which continues a tradition of drawing alumni back on stage to play "Eye of the Tiger" at the close of the performance.

Fifty years in, Trinity's handbells continue to ring.

Once you're part of that sound, it never fades.