I know it may be hard to wrap your head around but some of
the million trillion gazillion American citizens do occasionally
exaggerate. I’m not claiming that this
is a gigantic flaw in the country. I’m
simply admitting that we can tell a good red, blue, white lie from time to
time. But in Europe, it is not so. Descriptions are accurate and honest,
exaggerations are held to a minimum, and words are used in their original
intent. A sandwich cannot be awesome
unless when you eat it, the Queen of England comes out and gives a rousing
toast to you and your life accomplishments.
Although, I would think that it would be hard to eat the sandwich if
your jaw has dropped straight to the floor.
So, speaking in a European style, my time in London was
awesome. Let me prove it to you.
Our first day was our concert day and we would be performing
at the Proms. For those of you who
don’t know, the Proms is not a series
of classical music performances at different high school dances all across
London. Proms is a month(ish) long festival of different performances, all taking
place at Royal Albert Hall. Think
Woodstock with tails and bowties. But
there’s a twist. At proms (which stands
for promenades), you can either purchase actual seats which typically are
expensive and very hard to get, or you can wait in line on the day of the
concert and purchase standing room only tickets that will put you either in the
gallery above the paid seats or in the arena which goes directly up to the
stage. And people do camp out for these
tickets. In the US, we wait outside in
tents for iPhones. In the UK, they camp
outside for babies and classical music. My
kind of country.
It can get kind of busy, though, in Royal Albert Hall with
concerts happening every day. Right
after our dress rehearsal, Daniel Barenboim, former conductor of the Chicago
Symphony was conducting a German orchestra in a rehearsal of the Ring
Cycle. (Note: this is not at all the
same as the Lord of the Rings Trilogy).
Needless to say, I opted to stay.
And I’ve come to this conclusion: Daniel Barenboim would make even Chuck
Norris scared to miss an entrance. He
spoke mostly in German so I couldn’t exactly understand the words, but I’m
pretty sure that I’m not allowed to say that kind of vocabulary on this
blog. You’ll just have to use your
imagination, I guess.
And I thought my imagination was playing tricks on me later
in the day. I was heading out of the
dorms at the Imperial College and I saw one of the other horn players in NYO,
Weston, talking to another musician.
Judging by the case, I thought maybe they were a hornist too and were
waiting in line to hear our concert. I
decided to wait for Weston and when the unknown player turned around I just about
pulled out some of Daniel Barenboim’s favorite words. Now when I tell you the name of this person,
many of you won’t know who it is, but if you could react like I told you that I
met the royal baby, that would be great.
Right there, on the street was Stefan Dohr, principal horn of the Berlin
Philharmonic and debatably one of the greatest living orchestral horn
players. Despite the fact that it is my
middle name, I immediately lost all the grace
I had in my mad rush to meet him. He’d
been subbing with the German orchestra from earlier and was in London “just for
a bit.” But now, he was in front of my
dorm room waiting “for a friend”. I
offered to be the friend he was waiting for, but he respectfully declined. You can tell how excited I was by the frantic
state of my hair in the picture I got with him.
In retrospect, I certainly consider this a good omen for the
concert later that night. Because this
blog post will be exceptionally long (see the blog post on procrastination), I
will save that evening’s performance until the end so that you are forced to
continue reading. Mwahahaha, I have you
now.
The next day was the day we got to explore the rest of
London and the city certainly gave us a warm welcome—it was literally the
hottest day of the year thus far. It’s
almost like I never left Florida. So,
covered in a layer of sweat we had a private tour of the tower of London with
the crown jewels. Just an FYI: Ladies,
if you are in the market for a wedding ring or crown, the Queen knows a
guy. Gentleman, if your lady is
interested, I’ll try to put you in touch with Her Majesty and you can exchange
services or something. I’m sure she’d
love a nice foot rub if you’re up for it.
I certainly needed one after the
walking tour we did of the Thames River including the Globe Theater and
Millenium Bridge. Despite the color of
the Thames (a mystery meat milkshake kind of look), I might have considered
swimming to get out of the heat.
After a bus tour and a picnic lunch in Hyde Park, we were on
our own for about an hour and 45 minutes.
Before I tell you the next part of the story, you have to understand
where I’m coming from. Whenever my
family goes on vacation, we go on vacation. Going to a major city? We do every possible signature landmark and
activity possible. Going to a tropical
destination? We are scuba diving and hiking every day. Going to a theme park? We almost kill my grandparents riding every
single ride in the four Disney parks because God forbid we miss one. That’s how we do vacations in my family and
so, given an hour and 45 minutes, that’s how I did London. I took the Tube (the subway system not the
Television Set) to Buckingham Palace, walked to Big Ben, and at three o’clock,
I entered the Westminster abbey. I had
to be back by 3:45. And walking into the
church, it just completely took my breath away.
Normally, I’d encourage you to look up everything I’m saying (for
fact-checking purposes so you can hold something over my head later) but I
don’t think you should Google pictures of the abbey because they won’t do it an
ounce of justice. Every architectural decision made, every historical figure
buried, it is so spectacular. So
spectacular in fact that not only was my breath taken away but also, my sense
of time. I left the Abbey at 3:30.
I must have looked like the biggest idiot in the whole
city. Here I am, sprinting, in a
collared shirt and a pair of jeans, with my flip-flops in my hand (I’d taken
them off so I could run faster) down the streets of London, trying to make a
thirty minute journey into a fifteen minute one. I arrived at the dorms, tragically out of
breath and out of energy at 3:49. And
after booking it up to my room to change into formal attire, I was on the bus,
seated at 3:53 wearing a dress, a pair of nice shoes, with my hair combed. When I said that I could win the Olympics for
procrastination, I wasn’t kidding.
That’s not poor preparation, that’s a talent.
You may have noticed my mentioning of the royal baby several
times throughout this post, and that’s how it was in London. Everyone in the city constantly had one eye
on the tube (the actual TV this time), waiting to see if any news would come of
the future heir to the throne. And while
we were at our final closeout party, hosted at the offices of Bloomberg, the
news came: IT’S A BOY. And as soon as we
arrived back at the hotel, I was back out to Buckingham Palace again. When I got there, the only way I can think to
describe the scene is imagine the largest US rock concert and then multiply
that by 8lbs 6oz. There were a lot of
people, and most of them, including myself, wanted a picture of what was behind
the gates. Judging by the crowd size,
you would have guessed that the royal baby was sitting there with it’s parents
doing a question and answer session. But
instead, what everyone was clamouring to get a picture of was the easel with
the official birth announcement on it.
So, a friend and I slowly worked to the front which involved a lot of
pushing, a lot of casual conversation, and one guy who kept yelling things like
“EVERYONE, THE QUEEN IS BEHIND US ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE COURTYARD SIGNING
AUTOGRAPHS. WE SHOULD ALL GET OUT OF
LINE TO SEE HER!”
Mission: successful.
Sort of.
My digital camera ran out battery just as I was getting up
to the front of the line, so I needed to use my iPod to take the picture. I’d been keeping my debit card in the back of
my iPod case so that it wouldn’t get lost.
Before you criticize that idea, it had been working very well. Unfortunately, that all came to an end when I
took my iPod out of its case to get a clear picture and the debit card fell
out. Onto the ground. Under the feet of
a massive amount of people. In the
middle of the busiest place in London.
Not to worry, I cancelled the card and no purchases were
made on it and I’d like to point out that I picked a very good time, the last
day, to have to go without it. But
before there are claims that I broke my streak of losing something, I would
like to point out that I did not lose my debit card. I knew exactly where it was, I just chose not
to go back and get it. There is a giant
difference.
And with that, my time in England
had come to a close. It might not be the
best note to finish on, but I still think it was a fantastic journey. But by far, the most wonderful part of it all
was the concert we performed at the Royal Albert Hall.
I mentioned in my blog post about
the Kennedy Center that the performer gives the audience member a collective
emotional experience. It takes the occurances
and feelings of those in the hall and combines them with the intentions and
magic of the music being performed. And
in this process, one of the most essential parts is the experiences and energy
provided by the audience. At the Proms,
every person in the theater is excited and thrilled to be hearing the work of
the performers. They sit on the edge of
their seats and those who are standing creep closer towards the stage trying to
drink from the music that pours from the orchestra. This is what we encountered at the
Proms. This is what made the concert so
special.
We immediately were baffled by the
9,000 people in the sold out hall. The
mosaic created by their faces was far more beautiful than any architecture
found in the Westminster Abbey. Their
raw excitement and emotional experiences were exponentially greater than the
anticipation over the delivery of the royal baby. The fire that they each brought into the
room combined into a blaze that was far greater than the heat wave taking place
outside. The people listening fed us, as
performers, and we returned the favor with the emotion that can only be expressed
through the compositions. And that night,
the performers were not the cause of the beauty that was created, the audience
members were.
Similarly, this entire NYO
experience has been something that has been made not by the spectacular
locations we have performed in, the individual creativity it encourages, or
even the vast amount of musical knowledge that I have learned. NYO has been unforgettable because of the
people who surrounded and supported us.
That includes those at home, those behind the scenes, and the
participants who have been on the journey together. The pure enjoyment and raw passion that was
brought to music has been a cycle of inspiration, encouraging us to support and
feed the joy of others.
As I write this final post from
the Newark air terminal with my passport resting safely inside my bag (I just
checked), I know that this chapter in our lives is coming to a close. I know that every single member of the
inaugural season of NYO will be wildly successful in their own right. Whether they pursue music or something
equally as wonderful, the young people on this trip will be magnificent and
the future of the nation, in my opinion, could not look brighter. But no matter the successes to come, I know
that this summer will never be forgotten.
It will be something that is always to be remembered, chronicled on
Facebook, and one day will be looked at with nostalgia.
As I start to prepare for college,
I can’t wait for what the future brings.
I hope to continue to blog because it makes me laugh just as much as it
makes you cringe. (Please check out the
new page at http://rachmaninoffmyrocker.blogspot.com/ )But most of all, I look forward to the stunning growth of
each and every member of the inaugural season of the National Youth Orchestra
of the United States of America.
Because ultimately, there is only
one word that can describe this journey we have made together:
Awesome.