We returned home last night from a trip to southern California to be a part of the memorial activities honoring Mark Fischinger, our "nephew-in-law". I will write about it in the very next blog entry.First, however, chronologically, (the bloggish order), Tom and I made a stop in Sacramento Friday evening to indulge my desire to experience the fruition of my labors in learning my part of the choral movement of Beethoven's 9th Symphony (which includes the "Ode to Joy" tune as the theme). Most of our 100-member choir was going to join with a smaller group of singers (opera types) and an orchestra to perform in a large cathedral located downtown Sacramento.
The concert was scheduled for Saturday evening, the same day as the service for Mark. I was sorry to think about missing the performance, since I had worked so hard to learn the tenor part of this very challenging (for me), and exhilarating piece of music. But, of course, there was absolutely no question that I would go to the service. In the Scale of Things, Beethoven didn't even come close.Most days, for at least six weeks or so, in addition to choir practices, I have been playing my notes on the piano, listening to a cd of just my part, trying to memorize the German words, and singing along with a perfectly-timed airing of the Sympony by Public Television that we recorded.
The video features Leonard Bernstein conducting an enormous number of musicians and singers on the occasion of Christmas Day 1989 in Berlin, a few months after the Berlin Wall had come down. Quite a dramatic event! This total emersion led to my living with the different sections of the music bouncing around inside my skull, mostly uninvited, at all times. When I awoke in the middle of the night, or walked to pick up the paper or cooked dinner, I would nearly always become aware of some Beethoven knocking around (often inaccurately) in my brain. Mental wallpaper, it has become.
I began to do a little scheming when I realized that the dress rehearsal for the concert in the Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament (get it?) was on Friday evening. I would consider it pure joy (get that?) to sing with everybody and the orchestra, even if there were no audience to hear it. Just to hear the whole group together in that majestic space would be plenty for me!
So that's what we did. I spent a couple of hours in the rehearsal (at the edge of my section so as not to throw off the standing positions for the main event) singing my heart out next to the French horns (that's me on the right just above the woman with the salmon-colored vest). Tom said that the effect from the pews of the church was magnificent. The sound was glorious for me, I can tell you! It was enough!
We, then, drove 45 minutes, or so, to Stockton to spend the night before continuing on to the Westlake Village area. Of course, "Freude, schoener Goetterfunken" is still rattling around in my head and only the necessary focus on "O Magnum Mysterium" will chase it out. Which is just fine with me.
