Verbier -- July 18th

Last night we had our second rehearsal of the Faure, followed by the dress rehearsal this morning and the concert tonight. Sandrine Piau, the soprano, has joined us. Maestro Spinosi explained to us that she had been ill and was still not feeling well, but she would attempt to sing a little. And then she sang the Mozart “Libera Me” with exquisite control and the most amazing floated high notes. I wish she’d infect me with whatever she’s got. The chorus traditionally applauds the soloists the first time they sing with us, but this time she got a genuine, heartfelt ovation. Before we rehearsed the “Agnus Dei,” Spinosi added that there had been some kind of miscommunication, and Piau hadn’t even known she was supposed to sing the aria until she saw it listed on the internet. And it’s not even in her range (too low). But she’d give it a try anyway. I thought it sounded lovely, but she was clearly not pleased. She must be a perfectionist, but then she manages to come closer to perfection than most.
The Chorale and Spinosi remain happy in each other’s company. Sometimes he would ask us if a tempo or dynamic was OK with us (something we don’t usually get consulted on, but some of his tempos are so slow they’re excruciatingly difficult to sing) and we were always able to say yes, truthfully, and give him what he wanted. In his own way, Spinosi today said the same thing I wrote yesterday about the language barrier not really being a barrier. He couldn’t quite figure out how to explain a particular nuance to us, so he said, “I have not the word for it, but you know. You are a musician.” That’s something to treasure—Jean-Christophe Spinosi says that we are musicians.
I must mention one instance of Spinosian acting, since much of the Collegiate Chorale has been going around quoting it ever since and will probably be quoting it all next year. In the noble fortissimo unison of the Hosanna, Spinosi wanted us to give it all we’ve got—not just with loud rhetoric, but with real intensity. “Like this,” he said. “I give you all my ’eart. I give you all my ’eart.” And as he gestured, you could see that he really did. Actually, that’s not a bad description of the way he conducts in general, and what makes him so easy to work with. He gives to us the spirit and energy of what he wants, and we just give it back to him.
The rain continued all morning, except that just a level above us on the mountain it was snow. I went up to see—the meadows where just two days ago we were all getting sunburned were now completely covered. Fortunately the rain/snow stopped before our concert, since the chorus had to assemble outside. There is very little backstage in the Salle Medran tent.
This concert was officially dedicated to Robert Bass, and of course we all know he was to conduct it, so it felt deeply important that it should be something special. And it was. Sandrine Piau was still feeling unwell, so her “Agnes Dei” was cut, and in deference to her condition Spinosi sped up the tempo of her aria a tiny little bit. But you would never have known; she sounded in perfect control. The orchestra, which was composed of a combination of the Verbier young artists orchestra and the more experience Verbier chamber orchestra caught the spirit of the music magnificently. And the Chorale was definitely on. There were many wonderful moments, but particularly outstanding was the sopranos’ solo line at the opening of “In Paradisum.” This is a pure, ethereal, and quite high line. (“We are all little angels together, with tiny harps” Spinosi told us.) It’s extremely hard not to go flat or lose the blend—but they nailed it, and I can say that because I’m an alto. It was so lovely it brought tears to my eyes.
As a conductor, Spinosi is a lot of fun to watch. He’s very energetic; he practically dances. He was wearing a regular tie (not a bowtie) and it flapped around so much it whacked him in the face several times. And right towards the beginning of the Haffner symphony, he gestured so energetically that the baton flew right out of his hand. He seemed much happier without it, conducting with his very eloquent hands, and the momentary flick of humor was just enough to give the Haffner a particularly appealing release and energy. Conducting the Faure Requiem he was, of course, very serious and intense, but sometimes at a particularly important or problematic moment, he’d give us a surreptitious little grin or an encouraging thumbs up. At the end of the piece we received that finest of tributes, a moment of silence before the enthusiastic applause. Spinosi brought Nancy Wertsch on for a solo bow, and made her take it, despite her modesty.
Verbier is a very schizophrenic town today. Leaving the sublime atmosphere of our concert, we walked right into the raucous energy of the preparations for the Tour de France, which passes through tomorrow. The streets were jammed with revelers, and there is a loud eighties-music rock band stationed in the center of town. They’re scheduled to play until 2 or 3 in the morning, which should offer a bit of a challenge to the Chorale, which is presenting our own choral concert tomorrow night.