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I, Erica Glenn, can now say that I've performed with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra! This has been quite the musical weekend,
beginning with my very first Brighton Festival Chorus concert. I was a bit nervous; I'd only rehearsed with the choir
once, I wasn't sure where the coach was going to pick us all up, and the cheap black skirt I'd ordered on ebay hadn't arrived
yet (concert dress consists of a long black shirt, a long black skirt, black tights, and black shoes). When I
realized that my black skirt wasn't going to arrive, I put on some nice black slacks and hoped for the best. Since
I was going to be gone from 2:30
until 10:30, I packed myself a peanut
butter and jelly sandwich, a banana, and an orange, and then headed out the door to the bus stop. (In honor of the concert,
I'd tried curling my hair the night before without curlers, but in spite of my curler-less-ness, I was quite pleased with
the outcome. Imagine my surprise when I learned. . .well, I'll get to that later.)
I wandered forlornly down the road in front
of the campus until I saw several older ladies chatting merrily and carrying "Brighton Festival Chorus" folders.
Hurrah! I hailed them enthusiastically and joined them on their jaunt to the bus stop. One of the jolliest of
the gray-haired ladies started chatting with me, and I found out that she's been in the choir for 30 years
(the choir was formed in 1968). She was very welcoming and she wanted to know all about the differences between US and
UK choirs (as if I've had much experience
in UK choirs!). Our coach
soon arrived, and I sat by a middle-aged woman who has led a fascinating life.
She's lived in England, France, and Norway (she speaks all three languages), and she's performed with professional
choirs and all sorts of major orchestras (she was a clarinet major). She has two children, one of whom is a "fiddler."
I, of course, assumed that "fiddler" meant what it does in the US--a violinist who plays hoe-down fiddle music--but apparently, "fiddler" and "violinist" mean
exactly the same thing in the UK.
Interesting! She was blown away to discover that I had FOUR younger brothers, and she asked me what it was like to have
so many siblings and if I'd had to fend for myself while growing up. It made me laugh; I was tempted to tell her
stories about some of the fifteen-children families in Utah. :-)
When we arrived in Crawley, we were given a half hour to do whatever we liked before rehearsal began. I chose to listen to the Royal Philharmonic
Orchestra practicing in the concert hall, and it was quite the experience. At 4:15, we all gathered in the concert hall cafe and warmed up with the
assistant director. We were then shown to our private dressing rooms and told that a gentleman would rap on our
doors to give us five minutes notice before our rehearsal and performance entrances. How posh! I read a bit of
Charlotte Bronte's "Villette" as I waited in the dressing room, and then I started chatting with some of the others.
I love musicians! I met one girl studying to be a doctor and another girl who is a music major at the University of Sussex and lives right next door to me. Imagine!
We never knew! I also met another girl who is a geography major at the university, and we chatted most of the night
about the differences between the US
and UK schooling systems.
(I can't believe how hard they work their children over here. The choices students make at age 14 mold their entire
futures!). I loved being the American curiosity. Even my peanut butter and jelly sandwich was a mystery!
("Whatever are you eating? I can smell peanut butter, but is that cranberry sauce?") :-) All the woman wanted
to know everything about my life back home and how it compared with my life here. They were surprised that I was so
comlimentary of England; apparently,
most American girls can only talk about how much better things are in the states. Sad, really!
Soon there was a "rap, rap" on the dressing room
door, and it was time for rehearsal. Our guest choir master informed us, to my disappointment, that we would be
standing offstage for the entire concert. Boo! So much for curled hair! We were performing Holst's "The
Planets," and apparently, the sound of the choir is supposed to just float onstage from the wings. The guest conductor
was very young and very nervous, but he managed to run through the piece with us a few times and to show us how were supposed
to walk backwards and close the stage doors as we sang our final few bars (for a "fading" effect). He also let us know that,
since we weren't in the first half of the concert, the theatre was going to issue us all front-and-center tickets for the
pre-intermission concert. I was so excited! Before we could enter with the audience, though, we had an hour to
kill, so I met some more people (including a girl from Australia who is an AVID "Wicked" fan), helped a technology-phobic concertgoer
retrieve a candy bar from a vending machine, and discovered that our choir is going on tour to France next
summer. Of course, transportation, housing, and everything else is paid for by choir funds, and I'm so disappointed
that I won't be there for a free trip to France to sing Britten's War Requiem." :-( I won't even be able to perform
on the Christmas concert, for Pete's sake! And apparently, the choir performs dozens of times in the spring. I
just came during the wrong season. I so wish I could sing with the chorus for a longer period of time!
Just before entering the auditorium, I splurged and
bought a two pound souvenir program. There’s a little blurb in it about the Brighton Festival Chorus,
and it was thrilling to read! This chorus has been conducted by all the major 20th-century conductors:
Ashkenazy, Bernstein, and on and on. And the RPO’s resume is, of course, staggering.
I was really moved by their performances—particularly Ralph Vaughn Williams’ “The Lark Ascending.”
The violin soloist was brilliant, and the entire audience held its collective breath as her last beautiful note faded
into nothingness. I also enjoyed the Coates “Suite: London Every Day” (such fun!), and I came
out of the first half ready and eager to perform in “The Planets.”
Our performance went
smoothly until our poor, nervous young conductor began leading us backwards away from the stage and tripped over a wooden
box! Poor guy. He was pretty rattled! One of the little old ladies
couldn’t stop giggling about the whole situation.
When I left the concert
to return home, I could smell smoke in the air. Yesterday was Bonfire Day (or “Guy Fawkes’
Day”) and everyone was burning things and setting off firecrackers! In fact, when I stepped
off the coach and began walking toward my apartment, the entire area was deserted. Most people had gone
to Lewes (the Bonfire Day capital of the UK!) to celebrate. I wished in a way that I could’ve seen the fireworks, but I wouldn’t
have traded this concert for a million bonfire spectacles. It was an experience I hope never to forget.
P.S. Oops!
I told you that I had a musical weekend and then only described my experience with the chorus. J
Today, I got to perform with a quartet in church and we sounded quite good (if I do say so myself!).
I do love singing!
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