A blog about New York City, my books, and my cats. Mostly.
From our holiday performance tonight. I stood in the first line right behind the orchestra and I was able to sneak in a few shots at the end. Doesn’t this look like a glorious thing to do? Oh I wish you all could have heard it. This is one of the better things humanity can do. Yay us!
Thank you Grace Church! (And thank you James Renwick for designing this place.) (And while I’m at it, thank you, composers! And orchestra and John and fellow singers!)
I found the picture I took last year of that same corner where they’re selling trees. Quite the difference. SNOW!
I realized something last night about choir. Performances are fun and exciting and I love singing with the orchestra, but the best part about singing with the choir turns out to be the weekly rehearsals.
I feel more like I’m singing with people at the rehearsals. I can’t hear myself or the people next to me at the dress rehearsal and performances, I guess because we’re so close to the orchestra. I can hear the people behind me, and I have a lovely soprano singing behind me so that’s nice, but I don’t get that feeling of making music together with all these people. This is not a complaint. I love the performances too, for different reasons. I just realized I like the regular rehearsals more.
Oh wait, I do get that feeling in the pieces where we sing a capella, and during the carols.
Oh and the orchestra with the Bernstein is amazing. It’s a very festive, twinkling, sparkling, sound.
I was trying to get creative in this shot.
It was not a success. This is a Santa standing up in front of a bunch of Christmas trees for sale. In fact, I think I took a picture of the same Santa from last year. I should see if I still have it.
I was going for a “Santa in the urban wilds of New York City” thing.
Tonight we rehearse with the orchestra!! Woohoo. Very exciting.
John, our conductor, has me standing behind the timpani again this year. He is definitely trying to tell me something.
What I can’t wait for is to hear the quartet at the beginning of the Mendelssohn we’re doing. We haven’t heard that sung yet, and it’s a beautiful piece of music.
This is the time of day when they start hovering, waiting to be fed. They look innocent here, taken seconds ago, but since then Buddy has eaten a New Yorker letter I copied in Durham two years ago and which I plan to post about, knocked over the scanner, attempted to eat my choir music and batted at Finney.
Finney is trying a different approach. He is curled up on my lap, purring, playing the “good cat.”
Oh, now they’re trying to kill each other. This is the “as long as you’re up” approach.
