Our massed choir of about 400 members began rehearsals for the concert just a week ago. Our conductor had to try to keep 400 people together, which is not an easy task ... but not nearly as hard as keeping 400 people together WITH the orchestra. However, under the able management of the gifted and ever-patient John Rosser, we all pulled together and presented a very respectable concert. John was dressed in a glitzy new waistcoat that his septuagenarian mother sewed for him (as she does every year). He also wore white gloves so we could see his hands better in the dark, which he donned ominously, shoving each finger tightly into the fabric as if he was getting ready to commit a heinous crime and didn't want to leave any fingerprints. Fortunately, the white gloves also made him look a bit like Mickey Mouse which reversed the sinister factor considerably.
The choir was seated in the bleachers in front of the Cricket Pavilion while the orchestra was on the stage behind us, along with the hosts and soloists. The only problem with our seats was that they were hard, wooden, backless bleachers. I had heeded the warning to bring a cushion along, but Curt assured me he wouldn't need one. Ha. Guess who wanted MY cushion for the 2nd half when his butt started to go numb.
The crowd had set up folding camp chairs and laid out picnic blankets on the grass, stretching across the Auckland Domain for several hundred metres. As darkness came, children activated their green and blue glow-in-the-dark candles, swaying them to the music as you might see at a rock concert. It was a well-mannered, multi-cultural, multi-generational crowd. 
Besides the choir and the orchestra, there were about 6-8 soloists. One of the more curious performers was a soloist who, a few days earlier, had arrived at our choir rehearsal in his flash convertible (parked conveniently but illegally right in front of the venue), with his shirt unbuttoned too far and wearing designer sunglasses. Next, he proceeded to blow kisses to us. Hmmm. The expression on our conductor's face of barely concealed contempt was almost as entertaining to watch as the strutting itself. Then our star opened his mouth and sang. What a voice! He has a lovely, clear tenor voice, a successful singing career in London, and is good looking. So I was incredibly curious as to why he felt he needed to act so cheesy. And that was only the rehearsal! Wait till you hear what he did at the performance: he wore a lizard skin jacket, and during one part of the song, he pulled it off one shoulder as if he was stripping/undressing. There was also, of course, a good deal of hip thrusts and come-hither looks. It really was too much for me. But he sang like Pavarotti so I may have to forgive him most of his sleaze. 
One sweet moment was when the throng of revellers arose to dance a waltz performed by the orchestra. The sight of all that spontaneous joyous motion was quite a spectacle to see. Leading the dance on stage was a discus thrower "who could smash a watermelon with her thighs" (as the host described her) but was remarkably light on her feet. She had been a contestant last year on New Zealand's Dancing with the Stars and she and her dance partner had been a crowd favourite all the way until their second-place finish. 
I can see why. It was quite impressive and a little surprising to see this huge woman wearing a size 26(?) glittering gown gliding across the stage with such glamour and grace. She qualified for the Olympics on Thursday and danced for the crowd on Saturday. Wow.The choir also had a good time performing a bit of choreographed cardboard flashing during the classic Beach Boys' tune, Good Vibrations. For most of us, putting the cards up and down at the right time was more difficult than singing, plus we had to sway (in the correct direction), and do a psychedelic card spin for The Big Finish. Who knew we had such diverse talent.
The programme energy was raised to a mighty crescendo with full orchestra and choir performing Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture, complete with cannon, a barrage of fireworks, and a laser light show. The crowd went wild. 
The concussion from the cannon fire was enough to take your breath away. Sitting at the outer edge of the altos meant that I was only a few metres away from the cannons. Even though you know they're going to go off, you're still blown out of your seat. Ka-BOOM!Sitting at the outer edge of the altos also meant that I was right by the aisle where the celebrities entered and exited. The Prime Minister went by. Hi, Helen. As did my friend the lounge lizard (with his cell phone stuck to his ear).
This is the point at which I could name-drop a little ... except I've never heard of the stars who were there: Boh Runga, Andy Lovegrove, Geoff Sewell, The LadyKillers. I'm obviously too old to know who the latest stars are.The programme concluded with the New Zealand national anthem sung in Maori and English (as it always is), and the pride and goodwill of the people was palpable. The evening ended with a quick and orderly departure of the sated crowd, and we only saw a limited amount of litter which we found unusual for such a large number of people where alcohol was neither prohibited nor abused.
The festive spirit engendered by the free concert was a perfect way for us to blend into the local culture and to feel more a part of the wider Auckland community. Mostly it was a magical evening of good clean fun, made even more special by my singing buddy, a recent widow, who was reminded of last year's event when she had been seated out in the crowd with her husband. We hugged and she wiped her tears while we listened to the New Zealand Idol judge crooning the words from Bridge Over Troubled Water:
When you're weary, feeling small. When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all.
I'm on your side. when times get rough.
And friends just can't be found,
Like a bridge over troubled water.
I will lay me down.
No comments:
Post a Comment