Bach Together Again

There's something about the St Matthew Passion, and I'm not the only one who has felt this, but the final act leaves you feeling...calm...complete...really down here right now and ok.  Actually, I can't ever remember feeling this before.

Before the final rehearsal, I was confident;  I had worked hard  and I had it licked, oh yes, all by myself (sometimes with JC or another singer, the odd group rehearsal...).     I knew the words, the music, the musicality came to me, I learned all the solos, oh yes, I was good all by myself.

Then we got together to sing as a choir and a few more things came in to play...the unexpected things, and some of which had to be Overcome.

My immediate singing neighbours
The strange beast which is the ensemble of all the singers
The weather, the dust, the heat, the dark, the day
The accoustic
The instrumentalists and their tempermentalists
The listeners
The Direction

Oh boy.

But, he got us together (Eric Noyer eric-noyer.fr).  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3f3jk8ml9p4

Here is a taste of what I've learned

You can have a bad accoustic with cloth and building dust, but a wonderful 'echo' from your audience. For example, for the concert at the school for children with learning disabilities, Eric boiled down the story of the arrest and crucifixion of Christ to the essential, and the children were absolutely scandalised that anyone would want to nail him to a cross; as one they drew in a horrified breath  "Why did he keep silent?"  they shouted out.  Isn't this how we should all feel?  This gave us a charge of righteous energy for some hard hitting singing!

Seeing the audience meditate, weep, come back for a second concert, say how moved they were and how they feel they have heard the story for the first time...this is what music is about for me (and not competition, personal glory and technical or expressive 'perfection').

There is something wonderful about a bunch of amateurs getting it together, for an audience who thinks...perhaps I could do that, and when an amateur makes a mistake, warbles, and perseveres, it is moving, attention grabbing, and a wake-up call.  It reminds me of Shakespeare's plays performed by travelling troupes in market places - brought down to earth for us to understand and live.

There is something which I call 'living music', when the music touches us, rattles out internal organs, makes us ecstatic, fills us with a total-being understanding, makes it seem as though the concert is full of angels rejoicing...rare, has to be heard to be believed...a privilege to take part, whether audience or performer.

The Community of Music is important, among the performers, and between them and the audience.

Music is my sublime expression.

Bach Brought Down to Earth

The final performance of Bach's St Matthew Passion was laid to rest yesterday, Good Friday (not so Good in France, as it is not a holiday and there are no hot cross buns).  This morning the dishwasher still needs stacking, there are hungry mouths to feed, and the washing machine has broken again...JC calls me Castafiore these days.

Bianca Castafiore, the Comic Singing Anti Heroine from Tin Tin who may have esoteric significance

If I were La Castafiore I would definitely have someone in to take care of the dishwasher stacking and the hungry mouths and so forth (my personal assistant Irma, and perhaps a lend of Captain Haddock's butler Norbert) would spend the day reclining on my chaise long being fed grapes by my handsome and admiring beau, re-living past glories, and doing a profound artistico-spiritual analysis of the music.   As it is, this part will have to wait...but in the meantime, some photos of the preparations, the slightly tense moments 'before' (no cameras during).  In summary:  full house, standing ovation, tears and glory...

The Stage is Set

Surly Adolescent, Cheeky pre-adolescent and Proud Father

The offprings took the subject of the Passion (crucifixion) very seriously.  There were strongly encouraged ("forced" in R's words) to come, and felt themselves to be the victims of a similar event, the promise of the forthcoming resurrection did not seem to console them...B sat at the back during the warm-up before the concert, headphones on and nose in a book, utterly unaware of the sound projected in his direction.  His comment after the show was:  nice solo, can we go home now?  R took some photos, but just as the hush descended and the final launch commenced he broke cover, moved seat, appeared to be searching for something (the camera as it turned out), ran along the front row in a bright red top, clambered along the back row disturbing everyone and causing a number of tuts and sshhhss, found his seat was taken and disappeared to the consternation of his mother.   He was discovered by B at the end of the show stretched out on a sofa and gone solid gone, as Baloo would say, although R does claim to have heard my solo before he fell, clearly identifiable by the 'English accent', he says.  All these things have to be overcome when one is an Artiste, and yes we did question whether we should have invited our progeny, but it is a once in a lifetime event and perhaps one day they will look back on it fondly.

Yer archetypal resentful teenager, yes, this is what I live with

JC and I Prepare

R does impromptu performance of Gangnam Style

The first chorists arrive

Our heroic tragi-comic choirmaster

Dreadful, but the only photos we have

Ditto

JC and JC the Pianist who hums as he plays, has a meloncholy  face and a cartoon smile

R decided to take a video of the moment when JC accused me of Losing his Music Lamp and I counter accused him of Having Lost It Himself and it was subsequently Found in the Bag.  How come the only people who ever take photos of me come up under my chin, at my age I need top angles.   Must find some taller companions.

Countdown to Passion

Final rehearsals this weekend, and first concert on Sunday.  I've been singing since January, all the time every day, while I'm frying the mushrooms, while I'm dusting the shelves, while I'm hoovering the carpet (well the Dyson we have is very quiet).

So far, I've taught myself:

To sing and articulate at the same time (in French)
To be PRESENT when I sing
To live the story of the song
To sing down to earth
To push out resonant sound (to compensate for lack of vocal volume)
To hit higher notes
To breathe more effectively (still difficult)
To sing from the 'base' (a bit more than before, still difficult)
To sing with earth, air, fire and water
To be unashamed to sing any time, anywhere (R&B are not unashamed)
To ignore criticism
To have a jolly good time

This is what I rely on:

Vogel echinacea throat spray
Propolis throat spray
Propolis throat drops
Swedish bitters in litres of water


Still to do:

Sew button on jacket (check I can still fit in to it, expanded lungs don't you know)
Iron skirt
Do all cooking and shopping in advance
Programme concert venues into the satnav

Play Bach

JC and I took the difficult decision to commit ourselves passionately to a production of Bach's St Matthew Passion (excerpts, liberally translated into French)  JC is narrating, I'm doing two solos, there will be no fudging at the back.

It isn't the passionate part that is difficult, this music is clearly labelled Made in Heaven and the passion comes with the package.    It is the commitment part which is difficult.    We did the responsable thing and calculated whether we could realistically put in the time required, realised we couldn't, and went ahead anyway.  Consequently we have in our home a washing crisis which has reached international proportions, and most of the time JC looks like a tired shrivelled overworked and very tired worm which is particularly tired.

I say a production of Bach's Matthew Passion because I disover that it is musical theatre.  You can 'understand' the text of the story and the sequence in which it appears, and it is easy to have an emotional reaction to the music without knowing or understanding the story at all, but added to all that, once you really get into it and sing it and live it, there is the musical story;  a glorious musical light show, a musical understanding which passeth all understanding. Just how did Bach do it?

I have become seized with the desire to sing;  a desire as precise as a point of light and as loud as a thunderous roar.