The Messiah Sing

The Messiah sing was yesterday. I say this merely to inform you as to something particular that I've been up to, not to do a whole long narrative about it. If you've sung in the Messiah, you know what it's like. If you haven't, it's your loss.

Well. . . . . I do have a friend or two that might not know much about it. Maybe for their sakes I'll talk about it, but I won't go into great depth, unless I get carried away. Just in case there is a sliver of a chance that you don't have any idea what the Messiah is (Philip R. asked me what it was today, so now nothing can surprise me), I'll tell you: the Messiah is an oratorio written by Georg Frederick Handel, and it contains Scripture concerning the Lord's coming, His birth, His death, and Jesus' triumphal return. So this Handel guy wrote a whole bunch of pieces combined together for soloists and choir accompanied by orchestra, and we only do part of them during the Christmas season since it would take forever otherwise. And now I shall continue as if you know exactly what I'm talking about.

The Messiah was a lot of fun, though I missed various people. Craig, for one, and Kimberly, since she's been there every year that I've sung in the past. I sang soprano for my fifth time, even though I'm wondering if I should sing alto some time to spice things up and not strain my voice on those high squeaky notes; however, fun is fun, right? Of course right.

We started with the usual two and a quarter hour section practice, and I think the sopranos were better than last year, thankfully. Our leader was fairly impressed that we seemed to be getting the runs pretty well, which was gratifying. However, I felt like we got a little more lost when we sang with the large group. Or at least I know I did. But I'm getting ahead of myself. The cookies were scrumptious as usual after our rigorous singing exercise, and then came the arduous task of seating us. It has always been a rule, sometimes spoken, sometimes unspoken, that you (or at the very least, the women) are not allowed to pick a seat before the set time for the whole group practice. Naturally though there are always those that break this sacred law, and this year was no exception. In fact, I think half of the soprano seats were already claimed when he told us to take our seats. I was with Cara, and after a little debate we hastily chose two vacated slots in the second row of the middle section, right next to the tenors. Someone warned us that they thought those seats were for the tenors, but I was willing to take the chance of getting kicked out as long as I got a good seat. I settled down with relief, recalling a time a few years ago when Kim, Bethany and I went plowing into the middle section for seats, found none, and then got tacked on to the back of the side wing, where I did not enjoy my view at all. So I was content with my prime position, close to the conductor and near enough to observe the orchestra and my beloved violin players. I wasn't perturbed when the seat next to me was filled by a boy tenor, but rather I was intrigued with the idea of hearing how well or how horribly he would do.

Never count yourself cosy before the noose settles.

As people settled down to their seats, there was a stir. A tenor was lacking a chair. Promptly I was booted out and once again, found myself tacked on to the far side of the soprano wing. Of course the conductor was nice about it and I tried to take it well as people sympathized with me ("Aw, just as I was getting attached to ya," a tenor wearing a Santa hat joked kindly behind me), but frankly, it was hard not to be mad. I understood, and I wasn't really mad at anybody in particular, but I was still kind of mad and disappointed nonetheless. What's more, of all the people in the world who could have snatched my seat away from me, it was one that I recognized well from the Conval chorus, which was somehow a bit of irony, especially since Cara (who had to stay and sit next to him) said that he shouldn't have been a tenor but a bass and that he was frequently messing up, then kicking his leg and swearing in frustration. Oh my.

Well, the practice went well despite my miserable location. Soon we were off to pay a visit to Taco Bell/KFC, where we happened to bump into Jeff L.'s girlfriend stopping to eat as well. It was so cool seeing her and her friend stopping to pray over their food--and sometimes we feel like we're the only ones brave enough to do it in a restaurant!

Back at the Franklin Pierce campus, most of us got together and went to their huge bubble gym. We bumped the volleyball around and stuff, and then we got into an unusual game of soccer with one of those huge blue balls with an airy bounce to it. It was guys against the girls, though Ben H. (who is back from Iraq) helped the girls out a bunch. Those things are really fun to "head" with. Actually, once Megan headed it, and I happened to be right in front of her, and strangely enough it knocked me right over under it's impact! I felt kind of silly, but we all laughed as once again I found myself scrambling up pretending nothing had happened. The score was one-to-one when we were informed that: 1. what we were playing with was a yoga ball which was only to be used for such and 2. you were supposed to be wearing shoes while in the gym. There were about three people in our group who were shoeless, and though I won't specifically give their names, I'm sure if you thought about it you could probably guess who they were. Those present were: Katherine, Bria, Megan, Katie, Kate, Cara, Ben, Dave, Andrew, Clyde, and me. Well, needless to say, that was the end of our spontaneous soccer game. Not too long afterwards we dispersed for concert preparations.

As usual, the performance was smashing. Even better, I didn't have to stay in my old seat! Apparently the lady next to Katherine was having difficulties with the basses singing right behind them, so wonderful Katherine negotiated for me and had us switch places. Now I was in the middle section at the end of the row about three or four down from the top. And the basses WERE right behind us, and they WERE a little confusing, but that didn't check my happiness and gratitude to Katherine.

The soloists did a nice job. Although the soprano was better than last year, she still left some to be desired. We had the same excellent baritone as last year, and the same tenor as well. Anyway, as I said, the performance was smashing as usual, and for me it seemed to fly by. I also spent nearly the entire intermission chatting with my teacher, who was actually playing this year for the first time (she said it took her awhile to finally get onto "the list" with her friends). That was neat seeing her, and she also introduced me to the concert mistress, who is one of Diana's good friends. There was also a homeschooled girl about my age or a little younger playing. I've seen her play before, in a solo concerto at a performance of the Keene Chamber Orchestra that my teacher plays in, and she is extremely good. Clyde actually had the nerve to go up to her and say, "Homeschooled, right?" and then introduce himself to her through me! She is friends with my teacher, but that doesn't mean that I know her personally! Leave it to Clyde to do something bold like that.

Wrapping up, it just amazes me once again the solid truths that are present in that classical masterpiece. I guess it shouldn't amaze me since it's taken straight from the Bible! However it is indeed inspiring to take the opportunity to proclaim that real truth, especially like in places where it says, "and with His stripes we are healed," and "He shall reign forever and ever," or even the forever repeating "Amens," in hearty support of what was just said. If only the people in the audience could catch at least a glimpse of the scope of all that incredibility! That is what I want to communicate to them when I sing in the Messiah.