Hallelujah

Ah, Christmas & Handel's Messiah. They go together like ketchup and eggs (in that they don't really, but a lot of people think they do).

Full disclosure: I love ketchup with my eggs.

We performed in Messiah this past Sunday in Richmond Hill with Vocal Horizons and Voices. My favourite part of performing Messiah is always when the audience stands up for the Hallelujah Chorus. It is said that at the first London performance of Messiah at the Covent Garden Theatre, King George II, who was in attendance, stood up for the duration of the number. Since it was protocol to stand when the king was standing, the entire audience also stood for the whole chorus, and the tradition remains to this day.

It's not exactly known why the king stood. Perhaps he was moved by the performance, or wanted to pay tribute to God as the King of Kings. Personally, I prefer the explanation that he had dozed off and was startled to his feet. :)

Anyway, just for fun, here's a recording of a different performance that I was also in, a couple of years ago, at the Newman Centre.

An honour

Last night, I got to have one of my coolest performing experiences to date.

I was asked to sing with the Windago Chorus, headed by my friend Elaine, in two mini-concerts as part of the Soundstreams Project. Last night was the first of the two performances. The event was a Q&A chat with Canadian composer R. Murray Schafer, and we performed his pieces Gamelan, and Felix's Girls (excerpts).

Photo from Soundstreams

When I first looked at the music, I thought: Not really my cup of tea... but a little musical exposure never hurt anyone.

Gamelan is a piece inspired by the traditional Indonesian musical ensemble of the same name. Here's a Youtube video of the piece, though not by my choir. Cool stuff, right?

Felix's Girls is a compilation of nine pieces set to nine short poems by Henry Felix, with whom Mr. Schafer was personally acquainted. As he introduced the piece, he explained that Mr. Felix was a German Jew (though the introduction in the score says Polish) who escaped the Nazis by walking, by night, from Germany to Greece. The poems each describe a different girl, with the author's great sense of humour.

It is certainly nerve-wracking to perform a piece for its composer! You can only hope that you got his vision right and do him proud.

Gamelan went pretty well. Most of us were nervous about that one because of the irregular rhythms and competing lines from other parts. Also, the composer was very specific about assigning certain syllables to certain notes, so we couldn't just fake it. But we got through it.

We were more relaxed about Felix's Girls. They were fairly easy, straightforward pieces - so we thought.

Mr. Schafer practically jumped off his chair when we finished the performance. "You have to MOVE when you perform these!" He encouraged us to perform Jou-Jou (a poem of nonsense lines like "Everytime I hear a crocodile sneezing in the Nile, I shall remember you, Jou-Jou" with a background of nonsense syllables) again. "This girl is completely crazy," he explained. "You need to let go and be just as nutty as her. And gentlemen, you're just wondering how the heck you got yourself spending an evening with this crazy girl."

So we did. And suddenly the music came ALIVE!

I feel so privileged to have had that experience, and I will never forget it. I hope to be able to bring that kind of life to all of my future performances, even if the composer isn't watching.

The second Soundstreams performance will be this Sunday afternoon at 2:00 PM, in the Royal Conservatory of Music's Koerner Hall. We will be performing Gamelan and Felix's Girls, along with Arvo Pärt's Summa. http://www.soundstreams.ca/our_events/detail.php?id=107

Kudos to teachers

Today and tomorrow, I'm running a workshop to teach concepts of simulation modeling to a group of strategy and business analysts working for one of the hospital networks in Toronto. They plan to apply these skills in developing solutions to improve wait times for diagnostic imaging (MRI, CT scans, etc.).

I've spent more than a week preparing for this. And getting nervous. End of day one - I am drained.

A big kudos to those who do this every day!

In other news... this weekend, we attended the wedding of our friends Angela & Jeff, a great couple who have been together for over eight years. It was a gorgeous wedding, but my favourite was The Legend of Zelda theme as their recessional (played by yours truly).

The gorgeous cake depicting Bluewater Bridge (a feature of Sarnia, the groom's hometown), the Toronto skyline, the Golden Gate Bridge, and the Chinese word for "love". They're engineers. Engineers like bridges.

The lovely couple's first dance

Break time

My church has a new music director, Bruno. Last night was his first rehearsal with our choir.

We normally rehearse on Thursday nights from 7:30 to 9:30.

Around 8:30, he asked, "Do you usually have a break?"

"No," we replied.

"What?! Oh gosh, you need a break. Let's take ten."

It had never even occurred to me before, but this new policy is going to be so good for the choir. Obviously it'll be a little easier to get through the two-hour rehearsals, but I think that the chance to socialize a little more will build the cohesiveness of the group, which in turn can only help us make better music.

I am excited for this year.

Don't forget to take ten every now and then!

Making music

When I was a kid, my dad asked me what an orchestra conductor does - other than just waving his arms. I didn't know.

I’ve been involved in choirs for the last ten years, and had the opportunity to guest conduct a couple of rehearsals and masses with my church choir. So now I know.

The conductor PLAYS the ensemble, the same way a musician plays his instrument. It’s more than waving your arms and keeping time. It’s about shaping the music.

I’m fascinated by the whole process. As a pianist, my brain tells my fingers and hands to move in a way that causes the piano translate certain sounds.

Thought > movement > sound

Conducting is similar, but way more complicated because of the extra middle man. The conductor translates his musical vision into what I like to call the "conductor's dance". Then the musicians have to interpret the dance, figure out what it means for sound, then play their instrument to produce that sound. Then good ensemble musicians check if they’re in sync with the conductor by seeing if the conductor is dancing along to what they are playing.

Thought > movement > (interpretation into) thought > movement > sound > movement

All this translation of one thing into another reminds me of any organization with a leader and some minions, or supply chain, no? And so the world continues to spin.

An excerpt from Handel's Messiah that I performed in two years ago, conducted by my dear friend, Matthew Otto. Check out his broad strokes for the majestic "Surely" and "And With His Stripes", his crouch and smooth movements for the gentler parts "He hath borne our grief and carried our sorrows", his lively bounce in "All We Like Sheep", and his precision for "He trusted in God". And you can't even see the faces he's making at us.

Sometimes, you just need some bubblegum pop

The first time I saw this video, I raised an eyebrow. (As best I could; my facial muscles don't actually allow me to raise one eyebrow without affecting the other.)

I consider myself a connoisseur of fine music. I play piano; I sing in choirs. I go to the symphony. My car radio is set to the classical station.

Mr. Ringy and I discussed the downfall of culture and art. I mean, really - whipped cream boob guns?

Yet, the other day, when I found myself deep in an irrationally cranky mood, this song was the only thing that got me smiling - nay, DANCING.

So, I guess it has some merit after all. Sometimes, you just need to rock out with Katy Perry.



Full video here.

An anniversary moment

My husband and I got married on August 15, which in the Catholic church is the Feast of the Assumption. For a part of the ceremony, we chose the hymn Holy Is Your Name - a setting of the Magnificat to the tune of Wild Mountain Thyme, arranged by David Haas. It was appropriate for the feast day, and it's also a hymn we really love.

Fast forward, one year later: hubs and I have been responsible for providing the music at Sunday masses for most of the summer. August 15 fell on a Sunday this year and we sang Holy Is Your Name for the Feast of the Assumption. We privately enjoyed a lovely reminder of our wedding one year ago.

After mass, a woman came up to us and told us that she was completely moved by that hymn.

Hubs had been feeling a little under the weather that day, and was concerned the whole time about sounding raspy. But none of that mattered anymore. That woman made our whole day.

Happy anniversary, honey!