Reminder
A rehearsal this week for Bach's "Christmas Oratorio" reminded me of a performance last spring that has really stuck in my memory.
Ironically, it was a concert I didn't actually attend. It took place during the evening I was in dress rehearsal for a performance by "Bach and the Baroque" under the direction of Dr. Don Franklin. Our rehearsal period (the "Donathon") is short and intense, and always leaves me satisfied, feeling like a "real" musician again by the time we perform.
This was also the evening of a concert presented by the Renaissance & Baroque Society of the Academy of Ancient Music, one of the leading ensembles in the early music boom since the early '70s. The British harpsichordist Richard Egarr had just taken over as director--despite their long history, they have managed to remain fresh over the years, always staying just ahead of the early music curve. And tonight, they were in town, just two blocks away; I could have made the second half with little effort.
But I was very sick that evening and very much aware that this would be one of the last times I would be working with Franklin--he will retire after our final performance of Bach's "Christmas Oratorio" this December. I took myself directly home, to bed, afraid to risk not being able to sing the next afternoon.
When she came home from the R&B concert, Mary Jo handed me two CDs by the Academy, one of works by Handel that were completely unfamiliar to me including a sonata they had just performed that night. I was mesmerized as she described how the music had made her feel, the virtuosic playing by violinist Pavlo Beznosiuk, the absolute magic among the dozen or so musicians on the stage...
Since that time, I have listened to that CD at least ten times each week, first while reading "Moloka'i," a book by Alan Brennert about the impact of leprosy in Hawai'i during the early 20th century. For a long time, the music would conjur for me images of Hawai'ian people cut off from their homes and families...but it continues to evolve, becoming richer, more complicated, ever more brilliant with each hearing.
So, in fact, this has been one of the most memorable arts experiences I have had in quite a long while, and it hasn't ended. That's some powerful art.
Ironically, it was a concert I didn't actually attend. It took place during the evening I was in dress rehearsal for a performance by "Bach and the Baroque" under the direction of Dr. Don Franklin. Our rehearsal period (the "Donathon") is short and intense, and always leaves me satisfied, feeling like a "real" musician again by the time we perform.
This was also the evening of a concert presented by the Renaissance & Baroque Society of the Academy of Ancient Music, one of the leading ensembles in the early music boom since the early '70s. The British harpsichordist Richard Egarr had just taken over as director--despite their long history, they have managed to remain fresh over the years, always staying just ahead of the early music curve. And tonight, they were in town, just two blocks away; I could have made the second half with little effort.
But I was very sick that evening and very much aware that this would be one of the last times I would be working with Franklin--he will retire after our final performance of Bach's "Christmas Oratorio" this December. I took myself directly home, to bed, afraid to risk not being able to sing the next afternoon.
When she came home from the R&B concert, Mary Jo handed me two CDs by the Academy, one of works by Handel that were completely unfamiliar to me including a sonata they had just performed that night. I was mesmerized as she described how the music had made her feel, the virtuosic playing by violinist Pavlo Beznosiuk, the absolute magic among the dozen or so musicians on the stage...
Since that time, I have listened to that CD at least ten times each week, first while reading "Moloka'i," a book by Alan Brennert about the impact of leprosy in Hawai'i during the early 20th century. For a long time, the music would conjur for me images of Hawai'ian people cut off from their homes and families...but it continues to evolve, becoming richer, more complicated, ever more brilliant with each hearing.
So, in fact, this has been one of the most memorable arts experiences I have had in quite a long while, and it hasn't ended. That's some powerful art.
posted
by susanb4art
