WOW!!!!!!!!

Concerts like tonight's are the reason we don't mind giving up all our free time to sing in the choir :-)

So, tsunami appeal gig at the Bridgewater Hall. I managed to learn the Russian lyrics for the Rachmaninov on the train (I'd stuck it on the iPod and played it repeatedly in the car to and from work today, which helped a lot) but arrived at the Hall to find that most people were panicking about it. They felt a bit better about it, I think, after we rehearsed it and it was fine.

Backstage was even more crowded than usual, what with not only both choirs being there but a whole extra orchestra... I was looking forward to seeing how they fitted them all on the stage at once. Turns out I was correct in my belief that the Hallé and the BBC Phil had never played together before. So that in itself was very exciting, but the evening was amazing for so many other reasons. The hall was totally sold out, and even the returns were snapped up immediately (I know, I asked at the box office on behalf of a friend). Frustratingly there were a few empty seats despite this - I guess some people thought they'd be doing their bit for the appeal by just buying a ticket, but I wish they'd put their money in a bucket instead so some more people could've experienced tonight.

The first half was the Hallé alone. We didn't go onstage till the Youth Choir vacated the seats - it was a huge thrill walking on. (Normally when we go on, it's 5 minutes before the start of the concert; half the audience are still in the bar and the other half are chatting and not paying attention to the stage. Tonight we walked on with a full silent hall actually looking at us. BIG difference.) We sang the Brahms - which went very well - and then got to sit and watch a fabulous young Ukrainian pianist play the Rach Pag Variations. He was so theatrical about it that most of us sat there grinning gormlessly throughout :-)

After the interval the BBC Phil took the stage. It's years since I've seen them play, and it was oddly weird to sit in the choir seats looking down on an orchestra that wasn't the Hallé. They are of course both great orchestras, rightly world-renowned, but I've often heard people claim that the BBC Phil are better than the Hallé. I've always wanted to defend the Hallé (because they're MY orchestra!) but have felt unable to due to not having heard the BBC Phil recently enough to compare them. But after hearing both on the same night, I have to say I thought the Hallé just edged ahead \o/

The BBC Phil played the Ruslan and Ludmilla overture (which I know quite well) and Capriccio Espagnol (which I don't). In fact I hadn't even realised the latter was a multi-movement work - there's one tune I'd heard, but the rest was totally unfamiliar, so that was interesting. And then it was our turn again, to sing the Ave Maria a cappella. But first there was a considerable kerfuffle as the stage was rearranged to accommodate TWO large orchestras at once :-) This took a while, and when the players all came back on there were still a few empty seats - but unlike with the audience, this was a GOOD thing, as it meant that even more players would be appearing for the finale! As it was, they were extremely squashed - much more so on the cello side than the violin side, for some reason - but when they started to play, the sound was... well, "not squashed" would be putting it mildly. Wow!

Before that, though, we got our big moment - yes, we'd already sung the Brahms in the first half, but that was with the orchestra. MUCH bigger deal to sing a cappella - and, remember, from memory! And not only that - the Hallé Orchestra have heard us frequently and recently, but the BBC Phil hadn't for years (and we know they think we're rubbish, because they invite choirs from all over the place to sing with them rather than ask a choir that is based in the SAME HALL as them...) So it was kind of an extra challenge to sing well in front of them. And I think we did - they seemed impressed, at any rate :-)

After that, our participation was over, but we got to sit there and witness the bit everyone had been waiting for - both orchestras playing together. They started with several of the Enigma Variations, ending with Nimrod. We'd all been wondering who would conduct the combined orchestras - Mark Elder (Hallé prinicpal conductor) or Sir Edward Downes (BBC Phil ditto). General consensus was that Mark would certainly conduct the Enigma, as he's an Elgar specialist (he's partway through recording the entire Elgar catalogue with the Hallé) and therefore Sir Edward would conduct the finale (Jupiter from The Planets). Mark did indeed come on to conduct the Elgar, so I wasn't surprised to see that although the players were all sitting in pairs (one from each orchestra) the BBC Phil players had taken the "upper" seats (BBC Phil string players were sitting nearer to the audience, wind players sitting nearer to the centre, etc.). I figured that when the BBC Phil guy was conducting, the Hallé would have the top seats. Seemed fair enough.

Well, the sound was predictably fabulous - so rich, especially the strings. (When they got to Nimrod, a woman sitting near the choir began to sob uncontrollably - although she seemed to be smiling - and had to be hugged throughout.) But then it was the finale. Before the conductor came on, though, there was what someone described as "a bit of a do-si-do" as the entire orchestra stood up and every player swapped places with their neighbour. It was unintentionally hilarious, particularly as most people hadn't expected it :-) Then, when they were all seated, the rest of the wind and brass came on - that weren't needed in the Elgar - and filled the remaining seats. The excitement level went up a notch at this point. The example of the trumpets may illustrate why - occasionally the Hallé (and, presumably, the BBC Phil) will do a piece (usually Mahler) that requires more than three trumpets, but the extra ones would be hired specially for the occasion to supplement the three permanent trumpeters. But tonight we had six "permanent" trumpeters. It does make a difference, believe me.

And then the conductor came on, and we were all surprised (but delighted) that it was Mark again - and, needless to say, he gave an inspirational speech, and we love it when he does that :-) We love it even more when he conducts Jupiter, because he conducts the middle bit (the "I vow to thee, my country" tune) with just his eyebrows. Seriously. I'd seen him do it once before, and I have to admit I thought he was having a heart attack. (I've heard them play Jupiter loads of times, but usually from offstage where I've been standing waiting to sing in Neptune. But on this one occasion, we were out of town and the local choir was singing that bit, so we got to watch.) He conducted the rest of it as normal, but when it got to that bit he lowered his arms and shut his eyes. I thought he'd been taken ill and was amazed that the orchestra continued playing. Only when he raised his baton again at the climax did I realise it was intentional. And since then I've been dying to see him do it again!

Well, he did just the same, and it was even more impressive this time because he was risking it with an orchestra that not only had he never conducted before today, but (more crucially) hadn't played together before today. (It says a lot for the musicianship of both sets of players that it worked.) But even that wasn't the best bit. I was watching the trumpets throughout. This was because it had occurred to me, as they took their places, how impressive the sound of all six playing at once would be. (I tend to notice the trumpets more than the rest of the orchestra because I'm invariably sitting right behind them.) So I was eagerly awaiting the moment when this happened. But this had clearly been carefully planned - by a GENIUS (probably Mark, but it might not have been) - because although at any given moment four of them might be playing, it was never the same four, and the only point when all six (and, indeed, the entire orchestra) played AT THE SAME TIME was the very last line of the piece - the last six notes. And... WOW. It felt as if the sound doubled in volume. And it hadn't exactly been quiet before that! I suspect it will be a while before I hear a sound as impressive as that again.

At the end of the concert (i.e. a few seconds after this amazing outburst) there was a standing ovation. Now, we do get a few people standing from time to time - I'd estimate that on our best nights ever there've been maybe a quarter of the audience on their feet. And that's rare - it's usually a handful, if any. But tonight EVERYONE stood up. Within a minute or two. I've never experienced anything like it. And although I think it was probably mainly due to those last six bars, in which my only role was to sit there and grin, it was great to have been a part of the event as a whole :-)