For the past few days, Jerusalem has been swarming with Collegiate Chorale members. One spot many of us made sure to visit was Saint Anne’s Church. At the start of the Via Dolorosa, this church is a very beautiful, very plain, and very old building. It is reputedly the place where the Virgin Mary was born, and it is definitely a place of miraculously fine acoustics A note sung in this church will resonate for three or four seconds, so that you can sing in harmony with yourself. One morning, a quartet of professional singers from the Chorale was tempted to experiment with the acoustics by trying out some of their concert pieces in the space. So a lucky group of tourists was treated to an impromptu concert.
Aside from that, the Collegiate Chorale's last three concerts were one small one in Jerusalem (just the Bach), a repeat in Haifa (the same wobbly chairs to climb on, but we got there on time, and so did the conductor), and the grand finale in Jerusalem at the convention center, which includes a large, attractive theatre with nice bright acoustics.
The morning of the last concert, we visited Yad VaShem, the Holocaust Memorial. Whatever your ancestry or religion, this is a place that evokes deep emotions and stays in your thoughts for a long time. Inevitably, our experience at Yad VaShem colored our performance that evening of the Sacred Service--a piece written, in the 1930s, by a man coming to terms with his Jewish heritage. For other reasons as well, this was a highly charged concert for us. It was our last performance, and the last night of our very intense experience in Israel. And it was taking place actually in Jerusalem, the spiritual center of the piece. Thomas Hampson came backstage in the interval before the performance to tell us how important performing the Sacred Service had been for him, and to thank us for sharing the experience with him. "I will be hearing the sound of your glorious chorus in my mind for a long time," he told us.
In almost all respects, we gave our best performance yet. In the tumultuous ovation at the end, it looked like Zubin Mehta might forget to acknowledge our soprano and alto soloists--but Thomas Hampson turned and acknowledged them, with great enthusiasm. Then Zubin Mehta took the bouquets that had been presented to him and to the cantor (I certainly hope with the cantor’s assent), brought them back and presented them to Hai-Ting and Jeanmarie, and kissed them both. And then he raised his hands over the whole chorus in a kind of benediction and said, "I hope to see you again very soon." We certainly felt blessed.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
The Chorale in Israel - July 17
Well, our first Haifa concert was a bit of a challenge. We spent the morning exploring the old city of Jerusalem for the first time officially (although lots of people had already gone there on their own. There’s so much to see that it was frustrating to have to leave after such a short visit, but we wanted to be sure to get back to our hotel with plenty of time to rest and bathe before we left for Haifa. We departed with what seemed to be comfortable time to allow us to arrive an hour early, to work out seating, change, and warm up. But the traffic was awe-inspiringly bad. Think Holland Tunnel at 4:30 on a Friday. We crawled along so slowly that I was starting to wonder what they would do if we weren’t there by the time the concert actually started.
We made it with 25 minutes to spare, but as it turned out, we needn’t have worried. As we were all clustered around the stage door, we got a message: Zubin Mehta was still stuck in traffic and wouldn’t be there for another half an hour. This was a good thing, because we needed every minute we could get to work out logistics.
I suspect most Israeli halls don’t have a lot of experience working with a large chorus. They’re very thoughtful about things like providing us with water and tea, but they haven’t thought the whole thing through. For instance, no one at Haifa had realized that a group of 100 people in a strange place need some kind of liaison to explain things. When we arrived, we were told to go upstairs. So we did, and took possession of the first large room we found, even though it seemed too small. And it *was* too small, because it was the wrong room. No one knew we were supposed to be up a floor higher. No one showed us the entrance to the stage, so we had to find it ourselves—and it’s not always as obvious as you might think. Especially not in this case, because there was a section of audience seating diagonally to the left and to the right behind the stage. I don’t know how well they could hear, but certainly all they saw was our rear ends. And the announcements about Zubin Mehta’s progress were only in Hebrew, so most of us didn’t know what was going on. (Fortunately a few chorale members speak Hebrew, and orchestra members were also very kind about translating.)
We had believed that the same risers we had used in Tel Aviv would be in Haifa, so we assumed we would all just arrange ourselves exactly as before When we finally got a chance to see them, though, we discovered that it was actually the same risers, minus one little section. So we knew that a few people wouldn’t fit, but not how many. And we had no time to try them out. More disconcertingly, instead of stairs to climb up the risers, they had put out three chairs for us to walk over--upholstered chairs, which wobble when you step on them. So our various leaders huddled together to work out a plan of action, and then I got to explain to everyone (I make the announcements because I have a VERY LOUD voice) that some people might have to stand on the floor if they didn’t fit, and that everyone should please try not to break their necks when wobbling over the chairs, and that if there were any pitfalls we hadn’t discovered yet, we should all just improvise and cope somehow and prove what consummate professionals Which we did. I was very proud of us.
Zubin Mehta finally showed up (looking as unruffled as if he hadn’t just been stuck in a traffic jam for hours), and we filed on as if we knew what we were doing, with no accidents. And the concert went surprisingly well. All the chaos seemed to make everyone feel free to cut loose a bit The oboe player really "put a dreidel on it." The Bach soloists did much more elaborate embellishments than usual, and sounded the best they have yet. And in the Bloch, Zubin Mehta took some blisteringly fast tempos. Maybe it was just to make up time, but they were extremely exciting. It was flattering that he felt confident the chorus would be able to stay with him if he took unexpected tempos, and it was gratifying that we did, in fact, stay with him. So the evening of mishaps ended in triumph—but we didn’t get home to bed until almost midnight.
-- Janet Pascal
We made it with 25 minutes to spare, but as it turned out, we needn’t have worried. As we were all clustered around the stage door, we got a message: Zubin Mehta was still stuck in traffic and wouldn’t be there for another half an hour. This was a good thing, because we needed every minute we could get to work out logistics.
I suspect most Israeli halls don’t have a lot of experience working with a large chorus. They’re very thoughtful about things like providing us with water and tea, but they haven’t thought the whole thing through. For instance, no one at Haifa had realized that a group of 100 people in a strange place need some kind of liaison to explain things. When we arrived, we were told to go upstairs. So we did, and took possession of the first large room we found, even though it seemed too small. And it *was* too small, because it was the wrong room. No one knew we were supposed to be up a floor higher. No one showed us the entrance to the stage, so we had to find it ourselves—and it’s not always as obvious as you might think. Especially not in this case, because there was a section of audience seating diagonally to the left and to the right behind the stage. I don’t know how well they could hear, but certainly all they saw was our rear ends. And the announcements about Zubin Mehta’s progress were only in Hebrew, so most of us didn’t know what was going on. (Fortunately a few chorale members speak Hebrew, and orchestra members were also very kind about translating.)
We had believed that the same risers we had used in Tel Aviv would be in Haifa, so we assumed we would all just arrange ourselves exactly as before When we finally got a chance to see them, though, we discovered that it was actually the same risers, minus one little section. So we knew that a few people wouldn’t fit, but not how many. And we had no time to try them out. More disconcertingly, instead of stairs to climb up the risers, they had put out three chairs for us to walk over--upholstered chairs, which wobble when you step on them. So our various leaders huddled together to work out a plan of action, and then I got to explain to everyone (I make the announcements because I have a VERY LOUD voice) that some people might have to stand on the floor if they didn’t fit, and that everyone should please try not to break their necks when wobbling over the chairs, and that if there were any pitfalls we hadn’t discovered yet, we should all just improvise and cope somehow and prove what consummate professionals Which we did. I was very proud of us.
Zubin Mehta finally showed up (looking as unruffled as if he hadn’t just been stuck in a traffic jam for hours), and we filed on as if we knew what we were doing, with no accidents. And the concert went surprisingly well. All the chaos seemed to make everyone feel free to cut loose a bit The oboe player really "put a dreidel on it." The Bach soloists did much more elaborate embellishments than usual, and sounded the best they have yet. And in the Bloch, Zubin Mehta took some blisteringly fast tempos. Maybe it was just to make up time, but they were extremely exciting. It was flattering that he felt confident the chorus would be able to stay with him if he took unexpected tempos, and it was gratifying that we did, in fact, stay with him. So the evening of mishaps ended in triumph—but we didn’t get home to bed until almost midnight.
-- Janet Pascal
Friday, July 18, 2008
The Chorale in Israel - July 13-16
July 13 was our first concert in Tel Aviv. Our hotel is so close that almost everyone walked over—we must have been an interesting sight in our all-black dresses or tuxes (depending on gender). Since the temperature is around 100 degrees (and steamy) even a short walk in all black is a bit of a challenge; personally I stopped at the wonderful gelato place on the corner and ate grapefruit gelato while I walked, to keep cool.
The concert was tremendously exciting. Zubin Mehta communicates more with his hands than with words. And as I said, he is very easy to follow, and very compelling, so he really gets results. (Although he’s pretty good with words too. He wanted the oboe soloist to end a phrase with a bit more of a flourish, so he told him, "Put a dreidel on it." Which he did.) The whole chorus kept our eyes glued on him, and we sounded wonderful (if I do say so myself). Before the intermission a small chorus composed of mostly the professional singers sang Bach’s "Wachet Auf," and managed, after working very hard, to attain the nimbleness and clarity Mehta was looking for. The tenor recitative was taken by our own Doug Purcell from the chorus, who did a beautiful job. I saw Zubin Mehta mouth at him "Bravo!" when he finished.
After intermission came the main attraction, Bloch’s "Sacred Service," a rendition of the Jewish Sabbath service, which the Israeli Philharmonic had actually never performed before. So it was quite an event in this country. The auditorium, which seats 3,000 was pretty close to sold out for all three concerts. Having the full orchestration instead of the organ adds a real emotional depth, especially when the orchestra is as wonderful as the IPO. All the instrumental soloists play as though they have a special understanding of this piece, which, in a way, I suppose they do. Thomas Hampson was extremely moving. I heard someone remark that he could become a cantor tomorrow if he wanted (except of course he’d have to convert). The whole chorus was inspired and sang with real passion, and so did our two choral soloists. Thomas Hampson was heard to remark that he had never heard a voice like that rise out of a chorus before. And Hai-Ting again turned quite a few heads in the orchestra when she sang. So from all angles, I’d say the chorus did itself proud. The audience certainly thought so. The ovation for the Bach piece had been warm, but for the "Sacred Service" it was quite rapturous, and went on and on.
The next two concerts went just as well, despite the fact that before one of them, many of us had been all the way to the Sea of Galilee—which is extremely beautiful but not very near by—and back, and had only reached our hotels, sweaty and exhausted, an hour before the concert call. The last concert had a bit of added solemnity because it was performed on the evening of the day that Israel received back the bodies of the two hostages kidnapped by the Hezbollah. Zubin Mehta spoke quite movingly and called for a minute of silence before the Bloch, and afterwards I think the piece, with its timeless evocation of hope and of sorrow, had a special resonance for much of the audience.
- Janet Pascal
The concert was tremendously exciting. Zubin Mehta communicates more with his hands than with words. And as I said, he is very easy to follow, and very compelling, so he really gets results. (Although he’s pretty good with words too. He wanted the oboe soloist to end a phrase with a bit more of a flourish, so he told him, "Put a dreidel on it." Which he did.) The whole chorus kept our eyes glued on him, and we sounded wonderful (if I do say so myself). Before the intermission a small chorus composed of mostly the professional singers sang Bach’s "Wachet Auf," and managed, after working very hard, to attain the nimbleness and clarity Mehta was looking for. The tenor recitative was taken by our own Doug Purcell from the chorus, who did a beautiful job. I saw Zubin Mehta mouth at him "Bravo!" when he finished.
After intermission came the main attraction, Bloch’s "Sacred Service," a rendition of the Jewish Sabbath service, which the Israeli Philharmonic had actually never performed before. So it was quite an event in this country. The auditorium, which seats 3,000 was pretty close to sold out for all three concerts. Having the full orchestration instead of the organ adds a real emotional depth, especially when the orchestra is as wonderful as the IPO. All the instrumental soloists play as though they have a special understanding of this piece, which, in a way, I suppose they do. Thomas Hampson was extremely moving. I heard someone remark that he could become a cantor tomorrow if he wanted (except of course he’d have to convert). The whole chorus was inspired and sang with real passion, and so did our two choral soloists. Thomas Hampson was heard to remark that he had never heard a voice like that rise out of a chorus before. And Hai-Ting again turned quite a few heads in the orchestra when she sang. So from all angles, I’d say the chorus did itself proud. The audience certainly thought so. The ovation for the Bach piece had been warm, but for the "Sacred Service" it was quite rapturous, and went on and on.
The next two concerts went just as well, despite the fact that before one of them, many of us had been all the way to the Sea of Galilee—which is extremely beautiful but not very near by—and back, and had only reached our hotels, sweaty and exhausted, an hour before the concert call. The last concert had a bit of added solemnity because it was performed on the evening of the day that Israel received back the bodies of the two hostages kidnapped by the Hezbollah. Zubin Mehta spoke quite movingly and called for a minute of silence before the Bloch, and afterwards I think the piece, with its timeless evocation of hope and of sorrow, had a special resonance for much of the audience.
- Janet Pascal
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
The Chorale in Israel - July 12
Today was the first Collegiate Chorale concert. It was a small chorus of the professional singers, conducted by Bob, with Ken at the piano, with some a cappella numbers and several solos and small ensembles. For the last number, "Every Time I Feel the Spirit," any chorale member who wanted could join in. It took place at the Tel Aviv Museum, which has a stunning collection of modern art. During the break between the rehearsal and concert, we could wander around and look at it.
Bob had structured the concert to show all the diverse possibilities of the choral form (and show off the versatility of the chorus), so it covered a wide range of composers and styles, from Renaissance motets to Brahms to Verdi to Leonard Bernstein. A high point was a small group doing a hilarious version of Duke Ellington’s "Hit Me With a Hot Note," which Nancy Wertsch, our choral contractor, wrote herself.
The concert was something of a revelation. Any of us who have stood near the pros in rehearsal knows that they are all excellent musicians, but I hadn’t fully realized until this concert what truly formidable talent we’re singing with. These people could give the stars at the Met a run for their money. Doug Purcell sang Kurt Weill’s "Kiddush," and Elizabeth Hillebrand sang "A Simple Song" from the Bernstein Mass, and they both sent chills down my spine. Jess Munoz sang two songs by Charles Ives and made them sound simple, beautiful, and accessible, which is no mean feat. Cliff Townsend sang "I Been in the Storm So Long," a spiritual for which he also wrote the arrangement, which showed off some really impressive bass notes, both from Cliff and from the male chorus. And Jeanmarie Lally gave a performance of "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child" that would have made Scrooge weep. It was particularly impressive in her case, because the museum had decorated the stage with a huge bouquet of lilies, to which she is terribly allergic. But during the break before the performance, one of the other sopranos thoughtfully took a paper towel and removed every stamen from every flower, thus disposing of the pollen.
The audience loved it. About twenty members of the chorale had joined in for the last number, so we got to enjoy the applause as well. There were two encores--including "Every Time . . . " again so we extra singers actually got to sing twice.
Afterwards there was a little reception for us in the museum lobby, under a big Jackson Pollock painting, with lots of delicious little delicacies, and much mutual congratulation. I can’t speak for Bob, but he certainly looked extremely happy. It was too good a concert to present only once. I hope they manage to do it again in New York so everyone gets a chance to hear it.
-- Janet Pascal
Bob had structured the concert to show all the diverse possibilities of the choral form (and show off the versatility of the chorus), so it covered a wide range of composers and styles, from Renaissance motets to Brahms to Verdi to Leonard Bernstein. A high point was a small group doing a hilarious version of Duke Ellington’s "Hit Me With a Hot Note," which Nancy Wertsch, our choral contractor, wrote herself.
The concert was something of a revelation. Any of us who have stood near the pros in rehearsal knows that they are all excellent musicians, but I hadn’t fully realized until this concert what truly formidable talent we’re singing with. These people could give the stars at the Met a run for their money. Doug Purcell sang Kurt Weill’s "Kiddush," and Elizabeth Hillebrand sang "A Simple Song" from the Bernstein Mass, and they both sent chills down my spine. Jess Munoz sang two songs by Charles Ives and made them sound simple, beautiful, and accessible, which is no mean feat. Cliff Townsend sang "I Been in the Storm So Long," a spiritual for which he also wrote the arrangement, which showed off some really impressive bass notes, both from Cliff and from the male chorus. And Jeanmarie Lally gave a performance of "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child" that would have made Scrooge weep. It was particularly impressive in her case, because the museum had decorated the stage with a huge bouquet of lilies, to which she is terribly allergic. But during the break before the performance, one of the other sopranos thoughtfully took a paper towel and removed every stamen from every flower, thus disposing of the pollen.
The audience loved it. About twenty members of the chorale had joined in for the last number, so we got to enjoy the applause as well. There were two encores--including "Every Time . . . " again so we extra singers actually got to sing twice.
Afterwards there was a little reception for us in the museum lobby, under a big Jackson Pollock painting, with lots of delicious little delicacies, and much mutual congratulation. I can’t speak for Bob, but he certainly looked extremely happy. It was too good a concert to present only once. I hope they manage to do it again in New York so everyone gets a chance to hear it.
-- Janet Pascal
Sunday, July 13, 2008
The Chorale in Israel - July 11
Today is our first Sabbath in Israel. Also our first (and second) rehearsal with orchestra and soloists. It’s always so exciting the first time you hear the complete realization of what you’ve been working on. And since, when we performed the Sacred Service earlier at the Central Synagogue, it was just with organ, this is the first time many of us have heard the full orchestration. It’s a wonderful orchestra, especially the strings.
We were out from under that overhang, on risers, and the sound difference was amazing. I was proud of us. The first thing we sang was an a cappella section, and when we finished the orchestra burst into applause—which I’m sure was partly politeness, but sounded spontaneous as well.
When Thomas Hampson arrived, there was a certain amount of flutter among the female singers. "Look," the alto next to me said, "it’s Don Giovanni!" He sounded wonderful in the cantor’s role, but was still trying to remember to sing "Adoshem" instead of "Adonoi." (We’re doing this to avoid singing God’s name in a secular setting.) It can be kind of confusing when the phrases are so familiar that "Adonoi" just rolls off the tongue automatically.
The soloist doing the spoken part turned out to be a familiar face. He was the cantor from Long Island, who had substituted at the last minute for our Central Synagogue performance, in the singing role. He was supposed to be miked, but there was some technical problem with the mike, and no one could find the technician for awhile. Zubin Mehta really doesn’t like to waste time. "What is this, early Shabbos?" he muttered while we were waiting.
The smaller solos are sung by some of the pros in the Chorale, and they did us proud. I particularly enjoyed watching the orchestra when Hai-Ting, the alto, first came in for her fairly extensive solo. About half the heads I could see suddenly turned round to stare. They clearly hadn’t expected a voice like that to emerge from the middle of the chorus. She got what was definitely spontaneous applause. Jeanmarie is doing the soprano solo, and she actually gets to sing a little duet with Thomas Hampson! (And they sound lovely together).
After rehearsals, we had a Sabbath dinner for the whole Chorale A couple of members did an impromptu candlelighting service, and then we had the most typical Jewish meal you can imagine: gefilte fish, chopped liver, chicken soup (no matzoh balls though), brisket...
Then much of the chorus (including me!) went down to stick our toes into the Mediterranean Sea before bed.
--Janet Pascal
We were out from under that overhang, on risers, and the sound difference was amazing. I was proud of us. The first thing we sang was an a cappella section, and when we finished the orchestra burst into applause—which I’m sure was partly politeness, but sounded spontaneous as well.
When Thomas Hampson arrived, there was a certain amount of flutter among the female singers. "Look," the alto next to me said, "it’s Don Giovanni!" He sounded wonderful in the cantor’s role, but was still trying to remember to sing "Adoshem" instead of "Adonoi." (We’re doing this to avoid singing God’s name in a secular setting.) It can be kind of confusing when the phrases are so familiar that "Adonoi" just rolls off the tongue automatically.
The soloist doing the spoken part turned out to be a familiar face. He was the cantor from Long Island, who had substituted at the last minute for our Central Synagogue performance, in the singing role. He was supposed to be miked, but there was some technical problem with the mike, and no one could find the technician for awhile. Zubin Mehta really doesn’t like to waste time. "What is this, early Shabbos?" he muttered while we were waiting.
The smaller solos are sung by some of the pros in the Chorale, and they did us proud. I particularly enjoyed watching the orchestra when Hai-Ting, the alto, first came in for her fairly extensive solo. About half the heads I could see suddenly turned round to stare. They clearly hadn’t expected a voice like that to emerge from the middle of the chorus. She got what was definitely spontaneous applause. Jeanmarie is doing the soprano solo, and she actually gets to sing a little duet with Thomas Hampson! (And they sound lovely together).
After rehearsals, we had a Sabbath dinner for the whole Chorale A couple of members did an impromptu candlelighting service, and then we had the most typical Jewish meal you can imagine: gefilte fish, chopped liver, chicken soup (no matzoh balls though), brisket...
Then much of the chorus (including me!) went down to stick our toes into the Mediterranean Sea before bed.
--Janet Pascal
The Chorale in Israel - July 10
Today we met Zubin Mehta for a piano rehearsal. The chorus likes him a lot-he's very easy to follow. The Bloch Sacred Service is full of places where the tempo gets stretched and compressed, and where the dynamics swell and sink often and quickly. You have to be pretty nimble to stay on top of everything. It can be really difficult for one hundred people to keep together like this, but the way Zubin Mehta conducts makes it easy. He's very businesslike. At first I was worried that maybe he didn't really like us, because we'd sing a passage, and he'd just nod and go on to the next, unless he had a specific comment to make. But it turns out he just doesn't waste words. When we finished going through the piece, he said, "Usually choruses sound terrible up there [in the loft]. You sound very good." And, hallelujah, it turns out we won't have to perform up there after all. There will be risers on stage, they just don't bother to set them up for rehearsals. So if he already thinks we sound good, he should be very happy when we get out from under that overhang. At the end of the rehearsal, he said, "My orchestra's really going to enjoy you." He says that Israel doesn't have much of a tradition of choral singing; since there isn't usually a choir in Jewish services, Israel doesn't have nearly as many choristers running around as we do in the U.S. Mehta definitely wants more consonants from us (lots more), but he told us that we were pronouncing our Hebrew vowels just right for the time and tradition in which Bloch wrote the piece. He said modern Israelis would try to correct us, but we shouldn't let them. Another example of the way music crosses cultural and national boundaries--where else could you plausibly have a man born in India telling a bunch of Americans not to let their Hebrew pronunciation be influenced by what native Hebrew speakers have to say? Tomorrow we get to meet the orchestra (and Thomas Hampson).
-- Janet Pascal
-- Janet Pascal
Thursday, July 10, 2008
The Chorale in Israel - July 9
Today we had to chance to get acquainted with Tel Aviv a little. We started with a general bus tour of the city. According to our guide, there are actually 14,000 Bauhaus buildings here, so many that it’s been named a UNESCO World Heritage Site. We visited Rabin Square, where Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated. The solemnity of the memorial site is a little modified by the inexplicable presence, on the roof of the building overlooking the square, of a gigantic yellow blow-up duck. Then we went back to Old Jaffa, which is a complex of narrow little flint streets and stairs—largely reconstructed now after war damage, but still charming. Not only was Jonah here, we saw the rock to which Andromeda was chained before being rescued by Perseus, and the house of the Simon the Tanner, where Peter received word from God that henceforth all non-Kosher food was permissible. Many of us then chose to rest up before rehearsal at the beach. The water is that beautiful Mediterranean blue, and not even cool—it’s like bathwater (except for the occasional jellyfish). This evening we had our first rehearsal in Mann Auditorium. It was with Bob, and Ken at the piano, not yet with Zubin Mehta and the orchestra, so we had a chance to get used to the space. The hall’s a little shabby looking, but it’s a nice warm, resonant space, and good to sing in. Unfortunately we arrived to discover that we were not going to be on risers on the stage, as we are used to. Instead, the chorus sits up in a sort of gallery above the stage—like a choir loft, only in front. The seats are rickety fold-up benches, with a tendency to snap closed noisily when you stand up, and so close together that some of the taller singers have nowhere to put their legs. Our seating chart that Bonnie and Joe spent so much time and care compiling had to go out the window. But we took it in stride, and the rehearsal went very well, considering how zonked we all were. Bob seemed satisfied with us. Tomorrow we get to meet Zubin Mehta.
Janet Pascal - Chorale Member and Music Librarian
Janet Pascal - Chorale Member and Music Librarian
The Chorale in Israel - July 7-8
I’m happy to report that El Al realizes the Collegiate Chorale deserves celebrity treatment. At the airport we were all ushered as a group to the head of the line and processed by agents who were, appropriately, using music stands as makeshift desks. After an eleven-hour flight, we arrived in a rather dazed state at our hotels, where we had only a few minutes to collapse before getting back on the busses for our welcome dinner. The hotels are two side-by-side Bauhaus buildings (most of Tel Aviv is Bauhaus style), one of which is a quite beautiful former cinema that shows Charlie Chaplin silent films on the wall of the lobby. Our welcome dinner was in Jaffa, the part of the city that was here before Tel Aviv was founded—it’s the place from which Jonah set sail on route to his encounter with the whale, so it’s been around for a while. We couldn’t see much on the way, but we caught some glimpses of the Mediterranean. The restaurant was a lot of fun—long communal tables that were already covered with little dishes of pickled things and Middle Eastern spreads, falafel, and flat bread when we arrived. It seems to be the place to come for your birthday in Tel Aviv; periodically a loud, sort of jazzy recording of “Happy Birthday to You,” modulating into “Supercalifragilistic” would resound through the room. After about the sixth repetition, some of the more sensitive musicians in the group were threatening to stab themselves (or others) with their shish-kebab skewers. Then home to our hotels, where we all collapsed, despite the fact that by New York time it was only 3 in the afternoon.
Janet Pascal - Chorale Member and Music Librarian
Janet Pascal - Chorale Member and Music Librarian
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