Meeting with Another Choir (by accident) May 5, 2010

Since I am a creature of habit, on Sundays my thoughts turn to church matters.  You may remember that the week previous we effectively lost Sunday entirely, because we were engaged in the 24 hour travel stint to arrive in China.  On Sunday morning, May 2, four of us, singers from Singapore, the Philippines, and America, looked up churches on the internet and found one that looked like it might have English language services.  We took a cab halfway across the city, thinking that we would arrive at a Roman Catholic church; but that conjecture turned out to be beside the point, because the next service there was not at 9:00, but at 10:00, and we had to go sing at the Expo at 10:30.  So we sat in the pews, soaked up the atmosphere for a while, and gradually realized that we had come to a Methodist church, not Catholic.  Then, an energetic elderly man approached one of us in the back of the church and discovered we were UN Singers.  Excitedly, he led us downstairs into the choir room to meet the church’s singers.  An old woman was pounding on an upright piano in the corner as they worked their way through an anthem by Brahms. Our guide, the retired former pastor of the church, made a little speech introducing us and promptly asked us to sing something.  We had no soprano, but the four of us sang through Sia Hamba with alacrity and explained that the lyrics meant we were marching in the light of God.  Then a woman in the second row asked if we could sing Mo Li Hua and I said that since we had no sopranos we might be able to use their help and all sing together, which we did. 

Whenever I have toured with a choir I have always been a fan of chance singing encounters in streets and restaurants, which I refer to generically as “guerilla singing.”  In that church basement room we all felt a little bit like guerillas, and I could feel quite strongly the way that a shared musical experience immediately crosses cultural boundaries even if people can’t speak the same language.

Still flushed with the excitement of our encounter, we went to sing a set at the UN auditorium.  For the first time I was confident about setting up my recorder and capturing the sound of the chorus.  Later that afternoon we spent more time exploring the Expo pavilions.  I went for a long walk through the pavilions of many nations (never going inside, for the lines to get in are fearsomely long) and bought some outstanding presents for family and friends.  And that evening we had dinner in a resaurant at the hotel because everybody seemed tired from a busy week. 

On Monday we took bus out of the city and saw the regularly ranged apartment blocks fade behind us until there was only neatly organized intensive agriculture as far as the eye could see.   We parked the bus and got into a pleasure boat on a lake, taking an hour-long boatride across to the other side.  Along the way a very young koto player labored over a couple of tunes and one of our Chinese colleagues suggested that maybe Mao Ya might play something.  Mao Ya, who is reputed to be one of the best folk musicians in China, borrowed the koto and played for while, to everyone’s delight (including the other koto player).  When we arrived at Zhou village, where folk arts are still practiced, a choir of women in costumes with tasselled sticks in their hands sang a folk song while performing a local traditional dance to greet us as we disembarked.  We walked up and down the village streets seeing living history displays and buying things (I got a Chairman Mao button), and we ended our explorations watching Chinese opera from the balcony of an antique tea-house.   

All too soon it was time to leave the opera and go to the folkloristic theater, where a massive, spectacular play is produced every night with hundreds of young singers and dancers.  The UN Singers needed to make their sound check on the stage.  Our performance would be the first time that any foreign group had performed as an opening act in this theater.  We changed into our costumes in a cavernous warehouse building behind the stage, where the only sign of what was to come were scraps of scarves and a few colorful dance shoes scattered here and there on the floor.  Immediately after our set we ran around to the back of the open-air theater and took seats in the front rows to watch the performance.  The seats were separated from the stage by a small lake, and all manner of scenes were cleverly projected on the walls of the houses surrounding the square where the stage was.  The spectacle featured perhaps twenty costume changes, staged battles on the lake, gods and monsters rising out of the water, fireworks, loud and eclectic canned music, hundreds of young athletic dancers performing with the most excellent synchronicity I have ever seen,  some commanding and humorous acting by principals, and an enthusiastic response from the audience.  I wish I could see it again. 

On Sunday Morning we took a cab halfway across the city to find a Methodist church (see tiny cross atop the tower). 

Later that afternoon we spent more time exploring the Expo pavilions.  Here our tour leader shows off her kitten-herding technique.

On Monday we traveled by bus and boat to Zhou village, where folk arts are still practiced.  I bought an excellent handwoven cloth shirt like the one worn by the man in the background for $9.00.

In the evening the UN singers sang a concert for the tourists and locals.  We were the first foreign act ever to appear as an opening act before the spectacular dance performance of the local theater company, shown here.