The Final Pageant May 8, 2010

On Thursday I stayed in the hotel all morning performing edits and sound level adjustments on the digital files of pretty much everything I have been able to record since we got here. Part of the time the chorus’s president, Chuck Appel, who is my roommate, was looking over my shoulder and getting a tutorial on how I do these things. This is a long lesson but I have to say Chuck was really interested in being able to do this himself, perhaps because he works at the UN’s own radio station and thinks it might come in handy on his day job. While we were doing this everybody else was going shopping, so at least we could tell ourselves we saved some money.

A little before noon we went back out to the Expo site to make one more singing appearance, this time outside the pavilion so that the camera people could show the big UN logo in the background. Still the glutton for punishment, I granted the privilege of operating the digital recorder to my new friend Han Bing, who placed it on the pavement in front of her and guarded it from marauding pedestrians like a mother tiger hovering over her cub.

A cadre of UN Singers waits for the bus to pick them up, outside the Blue Box of the UN Pavilion at Expo 2010. L-R: Mary Lee, Nora, Douglas, and Laura.

After a quick lunch in a restaurant, we went to an establishment known as the Postal and Telecom Club, for a joint rehearsal with the China Telecom Corporate Chorus. That night on stage as part of a big pageant we were going to sing a set by ourselves as the UN Chorus and then join forces with this group to sing a new piece called World, the official theme song of Expo 2010. The Club itself is part of the public relations department of the Corporation, and was a rather extreme example of the differences in attitude towards and support for the arts that one finds in China. The stage was equipped with extravagant sound and light show technology; there is an arts school for children operated by the company; there was a new dance studio on the third floor (used as the men’s changing area) complete with a half-wall sized LCD video screen; in fact, China Telecom has its own dance company; the stage and auditorium do double duty as a state-of-the-art TV studio; and more than this, I am sure.

Pageant participants just before the performance, backstage.

The pageant itself was long and varied, with many song and dance segments punctuated by exhortative speeches delivered by union representatives and a sort of glossy Regis-and-Kathy-Lee duo. Its purpose was to both honor and motivate the young people who volunteer to work at the Expo without compensation. There was a bunch of tween-oriented singing by the male and female stars who appear on the TV ads promoting the Expo and volunteerism in general. Shortly before the finale there was a performance by a famous traditional Chinese opera star who, as one of our women singers said enviously, could “sing like a soprano and speak like a baritone.” He wore white face paint, blue eye

shadow, and a bright red robe that would have driven Ru Paul into a green funk of envy. And his singing was so high in the register that it gave several new dimensions to the term falsetto. Perhaps the proper term would be falsetissimo. We all gathered again on stage to sing the finale, and just before the end of it there was an enormous discharge of fireworks above our heads in the lights (which scared the hell out of those of us who did not know it was coming) followed by an enduring shower of confetti and streamers onto the stage, which gathered in drifts. On my way into the wings, I bent down and grabbed a handful of the colored paper and stuck it into my pocket as a souvenir.

Children singing and dancing at the pageant. Photo by Han Bing.

As weary as we were from two relentless days of programmed cheer, there was still a farewell dinner for us to negotiate. It was in a hot-pot restaurant, which I found confusing. Boiling pots of broth with flames under them stood in the middle of the tables. Waitresses brought small plates with chunk-sized foods and we were supposed to choose what we liked and cook it in either a bland broth or a spicy one. The trouble was, I could not recognize what the foods actually were, nor how long they should be cooked, nor, once they were in the broth, could I find the chunk of whatever I had put there. We all muddled along through this for two hours until it was patently time to go home. As we were waiting for the bus on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, a man came by with his pets. That is, he had three tiny dogs harnessed to a small cart embellished with flashing lights, about two feet high. Riding in the cart on a cushion was a white and yellow cat. In spite of the hour and the imminent prospect of packing after midnight, the sight of that relaxing cat reassured me, reminding me of the flawless and continuing hospitality of our Chinese hosts.

The combined forces of UN Singers, China Telecom Corporation Choir, and instruments. Photo by Han Bing.