Chaos

I never knew rehearsals could be such chaos. Everybody talking at once, and the conductor changing her mind several times about everything. Then the last-minute rehearsal, right before the concert, was even more crazy. Most of the singers were forty minutes late, the conductor was angry, and the pitch was about the worst it could get. I couldn’t figure out what key we were in—well, actually, it wasn’t a key at all. So I tried to fit my note with the tenor, who I thought was probably pretty close to being right, but that didn’t work either. I thought, if this happens during the concert, I will cry.

And then I lost my music, and had to read off someone else’s, which just barely succeeded because it was the wrong distance for my bifocals.

Because we never got around to working out just where we should stand, we ended up way too spread out, and we couldn’t hear each other well. Or maybe that was just as well.

But somehow, by some sort of miracle, we carried it off, though I suspect it wasn’t very accurate. The last piece, a lively and complicated one, was well received. And the rest of the concert, for the most part, was very good—the Jerusalem Street Orchestra, some Klezmer music, Tomas Tulacek and others.

There were tables full of snacks to be eaten at intermission, but most of it was gone before we even started.

And now it’s 1:30 a.m. and I’m still wound up. I’m in the mood for some chocolate cake or something. Maybe I’ll settle for cinnamon toast.