So, what happens when you take a singer at the thin edge of exhaustion, and ask her to quickly navigate a narrow circular staircase two stories tall?
I'm always a little afraid of falling on staircases; I've done it several times, some worse than others, particularly descending. Not that I'm afraid of heights - I rather love exploring the galleries and balconies of old churches and palaces. It's just that I'm deeply terrified of coming down again head first.
So we're climbing this circular staircase - and when I say narrow I mean my hips just about brushed the wall on one side and the railing on the other; not so narrow if you consider how broad I am across the beam, but a bit on the claustrophobic side. And one of our very playful baritones jumps out from a side alcove about halfway up and startles me - bad idea. And I get to the top, gasping for air, and suddenly I'm just sobbing hysterically, panicked that I'll get hurt trying to get down again after our first group of pieces to sing the rest of the concert.
This is the point at which, once again, the Incarnation becomes very real to me. So many people offered comfort, offered help, asked what I needed - enough people offered to help me down the stairs I think together they could almost have carried me down. It doesn't matter who believes what; in that moment, they were absolutely the Body of Christ to me.
Of course that tenderness continued to bring me to tears through the rest of warm-up, and Alleluia and How Can I Keep From Singing worked their usual magic.
It's sad, to realize the concerts are over. The Mass in Salzburg is still to come, but the repertoire can be packed away now.
I remember my godmother's wedding, when I was five - my first long dress, since I was her flower girl. I remember dancing with people at the reception, and crying bitter tears when it was all over. I didn't want it to be over; I wanted them to just keep getting married and having receptions, because it was so much fun.
Singing is like that. Tired as I am, achy as I am (it's raining today, and every joint from my neck to the floor is screaming), the little girl is crying, "More! Let's do it again!"
2 comments:
I'm so glad your friends were a comfort to you. I know exactly what you mean about claustrophic feelings and fear of falling -- I am not a fan of steep staircases. Well, and especially since you'd just had that fall in the train station so recently.
The Mass in Salzburg -- that's the piece that inspired the tour in the first place, yes?
I keep mentally singing a line from the musical Bells are Ringing -- something about "in Salzburg by the sea" -- continued safe traveling!!
The Mass in Salzburg is what got us the gig in the first place, yes, and that's done now. See the main tour blog later; I expect the bits we all wrote on the bus will be posted after dinner tonight.
And now we're back in Vienna. Lovely afternoon, walking and taking pictures and winding down. Tomorrow - we fly home.
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