Sometimes, the experience of going to see a film that has been highly praised by the critics leaves you feeling curiously disappointed – hungry even, yearning for something more.  I ponder this as Sir Simon Rattle steps onto the podium to conduct Mahler’s Third Symphony at London’s Royal Festival Hall. Rattle will be conducting the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra which has the reputation of being the very best orchestra in the world.  How much better, I wonder, can the world’s “best” orchestra be than so many other world class orchestras with whom I have had the privilege to sing as a member of the London Symphony Chorus?

For I am here as a member of the London Symphony Chorus, and as a result I have a seat at a concert which has been sold out for who knows how long.  In the midst of Mahler’s Third Symphony there is a brief and intensely beautiful alto solo which is, in turn, accompanied by ladies and children’s chorus.  With efficiency and compassion Rattle rehearsed the choir (the BBC Singers, ladies of the London Symphony Chorus and the boys choir of Eltham College) at the beginning of the morning’s tutti rehearsal and sent us on our way so that I do not know how the orchestra will perform across the grand sweep of this epic piece.

The concert begins with an hors d’oeuvre of two short pieces sung with great confidence by ladies of the BBC Singers before the concert’s “main course” begins.  I notice I am searching the filing cabinet of my Mahler 3 experiences in order to make comparisons and quickly decide to let go of experiencing this work through the filter of my intellect in order to surrender to my experience of this performance.  I am not disappointed.

Listening to the wide sweep of the symphony’s lengthy first movement, I am struck by something that goes beyond fine playing, even whilst wondering how many hours of study, practice, playing and performance are reflected in the exquisite playing of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra.  It seems to me that there is an intensity in the performance which comes from Rattle’s attention to the music’s every nuance as well as from the orchestra’s total commitment to their performance.

Seated as I am next to the boys of the Eltham Choir as they sniff, cough, fart and fidget I am aware of just how long a sit it is for them and still, I am barely distracted from the music.  And when our time comes to sing I am aware of how Rattle’s rehearsal has prepared us all – combining a lightness of touch with both confidence and precision for our brief performance.

Some time before the performance ends I find that I am experiencing something akin to the deep stillness I sometimes experience when I meditate – when I am present to everything that is around me even whilst experiencing a deep stillness within.  This has been an experience I cannot begin to render in words, one that I do not wish to discuss when, eventually, I leave the concert platform.

There is a moment of stillness as the piece ends which is quickly punctured when a member of the audience calls out “bravi!”  The audience is ecstatic, with fulsome applause as more and more people rise to their feet.  One of the boys of the Eltham Choir savours this word – “Bravi!  Bravi!” – like a new sweet he is tasting for the very first time.

I notice how Rattle not only acknowledges the performers, including individual members of the orchestra but thanks them, striding through their ranks to speak personally with those who have played some of the solos.

It’s hard to believe that, for these guys, this is all in a day’s work.  For me, it was far from an every day experience.