It’s been a mad weekend. In truth, if there’s one thing I didn’t really want to do in the midst of pre-Christmas preparations, it was to travel to Luxembourg on Friday and from Luxembourg to Paris on Saturday and back to London just in time to miss the Archers on Sunday. Except that, well, I did…
This trip was part of my alternative career – my unpaid career – as a member of the London Symphony Chorus. It has some similarities with my professional life. On Friday, I was up at 6 a.m. and out of the house by seven in order to catch the Eurostar to Brussels – just as tomorrow, I shall be getting up well before dawn to travel to Edinburgh to conduct a leadership assessment for a client. This tour also included very little down-time to explore our host cities, which is also true of many business trips. Beyond this, the similarities give way to many differences. Let me tell you about our trip.
On Friday morning, we caught the 8.50 a.m. train from London St. Pancras to Brussels – about 120 singers, variously bleary-eyed and excited and more or less prepared. From Brussels we travelled by coach to Luxembourg, leaving behind us a certain amount of cold for, well, more cold. The closer we got to our destination, the more snow we saw on the ground, giving way to the rain and bleak, grey skies. Perhaps it’s a sign of my age and experience that, on arrival, I opted for a cup of tea and a 30-minute sleep before preparing to go over to the concert hall for our pre-concert rehearsal.
Luxembourg’s Philharmonie Luxembourg Concert Hall is a very fine building indeed. From the exterior, it is characterised by its surrounding of pillars which are striking even when you have your head down in an attempt to ward off the rain and cold. Inside, it is all sloping floors and overhead walkways for the public and, behind the scenes, spacious accommodation for orchestra and chorus. Unless you’ve travelled the artists quarters of the world’s concert halls, you could easily overlook just how welcome such spacious accommodation is.
At 5.15 p.m. heure locale the choir warmed up with our new Music Director, Simon Halsey, before we were joined by members of the London Symphony Orchestra and our conductor, Maestro Valerie Gergiev. Famous for conducting using a toothpick and with hand gestures so wobbly they are terrifying to follow, I was struck by a shift in his approach – at least in the rehearsal – towards giving clearer direction to both orchestra and chorus. After the rehearsal, we had time to change and – because we were not on the platform in the first half of the concert – to take in refreshments and a walk around the public areas before singing Szymanowski’s 3rd Symphony, Song of the Night.
Chorus tours, even such short ones as this, are always good for their opportunity to socialise so that, after the concert, we wandered back to our hotel and made good use of the spacious bar area. I found myself surrounded by about 10 or 12 people, some of whom I knew well and others less so. We took time to chat, drink, laugh and drink some more. It helped that our Saturday morning departure was at 11.15 a.m.
On Saturday, we were driven by coach to Luxembourg’s railway station and arrived with time to spare, though not quite enough time to find a cup of coffee – just enough time to sing a few carols in the spacious entrance hall before bording our train to Paris, Gare de l’Est. I suspect that this, alone, was worth the travel and discomfort and will be one of the stories we still tell ten, twenty years down the line.
In Paris, together with my room mate, I took time to rest – again, for half an hour – before walking up to the Salle Pleyel. Here, the accommodation is, frankly, awful. Not only is our space small, laden with piles of chairs and without mirrors, but this time, we are sharing it with James Mallinson, recording producer and asked to be silent. Even if we remember not to talk, it’s impossible to change in the total silence required for James to do his job.
It’s time to be flexible or to go mad with frustration and anger. After our warm-up and with just an hour until we are required to join the orchestra, I go with friends to a nearby cafe and share a drink and escargots. Returning to the concert hall, we are kept waiting until the very end of the rehearsal where we are on the platform for only a few minutes, singing two or three pages to set the balance and then, once more, having time but no proper space. Together with the same friends, I return to the same cafe for our plat principal – in my case, confit de canard with haricots verts. We return in time for the second half of the concert, listening to Brahm’s Variations on a Theme By Haydn before singing the Szymanowski again. Afterwards, it seems only fitting to complete our meal, this time in a small restaurant near our hotel. I enjoy poire belle Helene for dessert and then sleep for less than six hours before getting up for the return journey.
And what of the singing? Ask members of the chorus and you’ll find as many responses as there are members – our view of how things went is always a reflection of our personal performance and experience. For my part, I am delighted to have four performances of this piece in quick succession (in London, Luxembourg, Paris and again in London). As I sing it with increasing confidence, I also come increasingly to love this piece.