Segment 20- Royaumont-Orsay: A Magical Musical Experience
As I write now, there are two weeks left until my departure from Paris. There are many things yet to do in these two weeks: a concert to perform, a cooking class to go to, people to see, Paris to see… This will not be the end of my story in Paris, just a pause. But let’s reflect on the past few weeks…
I spent French election night with my French family: eating quiche and watching the “festivities” on TV from Sceaux as things played out in front of the Eiffel Tower. We enjoyed delicious quiches, made by Fabienne, of course and fabulous pâtisseries from Fou de Pâtisserie, which I had recommended to Guillaume. We were relieved to watch Macron win the majority, however daunting the narrow margin suggests the direction the French public may be starting to lean. One of my favorite things was the sheer amount of commentary (all positive) directed at Brigitte Macron and her style :-)
The following week was class-free, but I was quite busy working on concert repertoire. I decided to also take time each day to do something out of the ordinary, and with the amazing weather that Paris has been serving these past few weeks, that meant getting out and about a bit. I have been very budget-conscious all year, knowing how limited my income is and unfortunately, this often prohibits me from getting out to enjoy certain aspects of life in Paris. It was important for me during this vacation week to make an exception and enjoy the time in a fresh way. So the Monday of vacation week, I took my book to a café, from my list of course, and sat for a few hours across from the Jardin du Luxembourg, enjoying a piece of cake with a coffee and my book. It was perfect. I need to remember to do this occasionally. Of course, it helps when you have just the right book and just the right place to go on just the right day. The following day, I found another café, this time in the Marais, indulged again in a delicious slice of tarte with tea and this time I pulled out my creativity journal and spent a couple of hours brainstorming. Perfection.
The following day commenced the first rehearsal/stumble-through of repertoire for my concert with Juliette (this Saturday, the 21st at 8pm at the American Church in Paris, for all those interested in coming!). This was followed by an eventful evening with Lila (my former colleague in the Marble Collegiate Church Choir and my former French teacher) and Nathaniel (pianist and philosopher extraordinaire). We had a lovely evening full of great conversation, laughs, Chinese food, dancing, drag… Nora had arrived in Paris, so the next day we got to work rehearsing our repertoire for the following week’s masterclasses and concert, and after our Sunday rehearsal and brunch with Nora’s lovely Paris-parents, we ventured out, went to a little recital on our way to the Seine for an evening picnic and then…
The wonderful week as a part of the Academie Royaumont-Orsay began!
Monday morning, the four participating duos met at the Musée d’Orsay for a whole lovely day of art history lessons around the museum, focusing on selected works in front of which we would be performing a program that Thursday. Us newbies started getting to know those who had been doing the academy all year, and it was immediately a group with great chemistry.
Tuesday morning, I headed up to the Royaumont Abbey north of Paris to begin masterclasses with Nora. I was so nervous! Being one of the new people, I felt a sense of imposter syndrome, even though I had gotten to know the others the day before and everyone was so lovely. The first order of business: we met in the library and performed for each other. We performed for the other duos, and especially for our fabulous master teachers: the incomparable Véronique Gens and my dear teacher here in Paris, Susan Manoff. I was so nervous. I hardly get nervous, but I was feeling so vulnerable and longing so much to really be a part of the group. With Nora at my side, we gave our best L’invitation au Voyage and L’indifférent and finally, everything felt right. Performing with someone who makes you feel secure as a singer and as a human is a magical feeling, and being in my element again, making music, feeling the harmonic progression, the flow of the text was the most natural and moving outlet for my heightened emotional state. It was magical. And then, we got to work.
Tuesday and Wednesday we had masterclasses with Susan, Véronique, and Susan and Véronique together. The work was amazing: simplifying the recitation of the text, using consonants to extend the connection to the breath, finding new depths and colors in our pieces. Then on Thursday, we were off to perform at the Musée d’Orsay.
Nora and I performed a program in the Symbolist hall: Duparc’s L’invitation au voyage (Baudelaire) and Ravel’s “Asie” from Shéhèrazade. We were performing near Henri Martin’s Sérénité and in front of a colorful wall of other Symbolist paintings to reflect the idealist aspirations of the Duparc/Martin and the colorful fantasy world of Asia from an early 20th century perspective. We performed our little program 3 times, over the course of an hour and a half and it was really special. Between all the friends who came to hear us perform, from my French class, from the dorm, even my cousin Susanna who was in town, I felt so supported and it was especially easy to tell the story and weave the melodies around the different colors composed by Ravel when I was getting to tell the story to my friends. Nora and I got to such a beautiful point in our music-making, where we were really listening, in tune with one another, with the energy in the room, with the music itself and it was such a special experience to have together.
After these Promenades Musicales, we went as a group to a restaurant not far from the museum to celebrate and we had such a lovely evening laughing, enjoying one another’s company, eating good food, drinking good wine and just general merry-making. Before too long, our ride back up to the abbey swept us back to wonderland for the rest of the week’s classes and final concert.
Being at the Abbey was special for multiple reasons: the sheer beauty and serenity of being in nature, being able to lie in the grass and walk in the silence of the woods was inspiring and transforming in and of itself. But being with such a small group for an intensive, short period of time really drew us all together. I shared such meaningful conversations and interactions with my colleagues. We laughed so much. We celebrated one another, we challenged and supported one another and it was a really special and bonding experience. The vulnerability of doing this kind of technical and emotional work in front of others also broke down many barriers that could have stood between us. It was awfully hard to say good-bye after the final performance, but I knew that I had to go back to reality, and that the reality I was returning to was my final weeks in Paris- also not to be taken for granted. Thus, after performing all three songs of Ravel’s Shéhèrazade with Nora in the beautiful Abbey library, I gave hugs, with hopes of reconnecting with each person again before too long.
This past week, I returned to my French class, having missed a week, and I realized that my soul had shifted gears. I have gotten everything I wanted out of my French course and with that, I decided that I would not be returning for the rest of the semester (two weeks of classes). My class has been more of a challenge this second semester, not because of the material but because it has been terribly boring and monotonous and we were never speaking and interacting with our classmates during the class period, which has been a real shame. Unfortunately, this has led me to burn out, but it has also allowed me to make this transition into a heavier music focus for the last of my stay in France. Now I am preparing each day for the concert I will be performing with Juliette this Saturday at the American Church in Paris, as well as getting to work on a piece that a composer colleague here in the American dorm composed for me. And soon I will also be transitioning into learning repertoire for my first week at the Marlboro Music Festival, where I will be spending my summer.
All of this music is wonderful and inspiring, and at the same time, I am trying to take advantage of the time I have left in Paris: getting brunch with friends, walking in the city, enjoying the unbelievably beautiful May weather (go to Paris in May if you go to Paris!). I also got to go to the most fabulous event with my friend Cathy, who is an interpreter. It was a party for her work, translators and interpreters, a grand room full of the most diverse group of people I have ever seen gathered. People from all over the world, many in their national garb and sharing culture in music and dancing. I remarked to Cathy that I had never seen so many middle aged and older people dancing, because it is not at all a part of the culture that I am from. It is too bad. I love to dance. Dancing makes people so happy. My family has always danced- but to see dancing as a part of cultural expression was so beautiful to me. International life is hard with all of its transitions and good-byes, but it is also so special for all of the connections and relationships that aren’t possible without that common thread that joins you together. Even if that common thread is simply your foreignness.
Good-byes are beginning and that is hard. But I recognize that the grief I feel is from having loved people, from loving them still. I would not change that a bit in order to be feeling less grief now.
Marie in Paris
