Day Fifteen - Cincinnati May Festival 2008

The finale of the long, hard slog of the festival is finally over. Talk about fatigue.

Saturday morning at 9:00 am was the chorus call for the dress rehearsal for the final concert. People showed up in various states of disarray, taking every last minute to sleep instead of fixing hair or dressing up. One alto wore a red ball cap instead of doing her hair. She looked great.

The final concert was the long and often exciting Romeo et Juliette of Berlioz. The famous love theme is very familiar to many people, but the piece is not often performed in its entirety. In the 135 years of the festival, it's only been performed three times -- the last was in 1981, which was my first festival.

It's sung in French, naturally, and therefore required lots of work. Only about a quarter of the singers had ever studied French, so getting their mouths around those strange vowels required some effort. I felt lucky that my French was passable, with only a few touch ups required, despite the many years since I'd used it.

The piece is referred to by Berlioz as a "dramatic symphony" with chorus, not a cantata or an opera, but it has elements of all three. He considered it his ninth symphony, meaning he'd taken inspiration from Beethoven's Ninth by using a chorus and using themes of reconciliation.

The story is a little disjointed, and it doesn't follow Shakespeare's play exactly. It sounds as if some of it is made up, as a matter of fact. The ending has Friar Lawrence, who had married Romeo and Juliet, giving the Montagus and Capulets what for, saying that they had caused the deaths of the lovers by the animosity of the two families. They resist, singing, "Friends with the Capulets (or Montagus), us? No! No!"

Eventually, they realize their error and become as one, singing, "Amis! Amis! Toujours!" ("Friends! Friends! Always!") That part is a triple chorus with the voices sometimes singing as many as 12 vocal parts as one, and is every bit as boisterous and dramatic as the ending to the Beethoven Ninth.

It's a wonderful piece that shows off the genius of Berlioz, with some sections reminiscent of his Symphonie Fantastique. There are some long repetitive sections that could have been dispensed with, particularly much of Friar Lawrence's sermon, which could have been shorter (true of most sermons, I think) and the mezzo's solo, while exquisite, had more verses than necessary.

This production had the entire chorus and orchestra in black (even the men's shirts and ties were black) with art projected over the stage. We were all in black so as not to distract from the art. The Cincinnati Art Museum chose artwork that told some of the Romeo and Juliet story, but it also illustrated themes of love, death, funerals, battles, festive occasions, and marriage. I understand it was quite lovely, but I was directly under the screen, so never saw it.

The lighting caused a tempest in a teapot that still had not simmered down by the evening of the performance.

When we got on the stage for the finale, the chorus was in the dark, and seeing our music was nearly impossible. Conlon yelled at us for not coming on time and together in one section, and a member of the chorus had the temerity to say that we couldn't see our music because it was too dark.

He had small tantrum, saying that our ears didn't need any light, and that the tech rehearsal was yesterday and that's the way it is and that there was light on him and his baton and that was all that mattered.

So there.

Rude, disrespectful.

If the orchestra (who had lights on each music stand) had been treated that way, they would have every right under their contract to get up and walk out. We should have.

It turned out that the techs had missed a switch and the lighting was wrong. Later in the rehearsal that was remedied, but Conlon never apologized.

I was ready to just leave and not come back for the performance. Admittedly, we are not professional musicians who do this for a living, but such treatment of volunteers who give hundreds of hours a year each to do the work of professionals for FREE is unconscionable. Unfortunately, it is typical Conlon behavior. During my 15th May Festival in 1995, I quit the chorus after the last concert because I had had enough of his rudeness and disrespect.

When we returned in the evening for the performance, the discussion of the event continued, with every singer I talked to as upset over the incident as I was. One singer produced a document which was passed around that showed Jesus Christ in some over-the-top Roman Catholic iconographic print, with the caption, "J.C. said that the light was on him and his baton and that was all that mattered. And the ladies of the chorus sang, 'Amen,' or something like that." Later the "something like that" was modified to a phrase with the initials, "F.Y."

There is a lot of anger, with many singers not wanting to return for the performance.

The performance is LONG. It was nowhere near as long as the Verdi of last weekend (that ended at 11:30 pm, and this was over before 10:30, but audience members said it seemed longer. Apparently, we lost many people at intermission.

Let's not do this again for another 27 years. I won't be singing then, so I won't care.

Once the concert was over, and the charming little girls trooped on the stage to deliver flowers to all and sundry, we repaired to the Music Hall ballroom for the Amen party. There we were able to drink champagne and have a lovely buffet supper and listen to the president of the May Festival Board thank everyone. Everyone (chorus, orchestra, family members, honored guests, corporate sponsors, et al) gave a standing ovation to Bob Porco (well-deserved, and his second of the day; the chorus gave him one in the morning at rehearsal), and we also gave one to Steve Monder, the retiring CEO of the symphony and the May Festival, who has kept us all solvent and alive for the past 37 years. He will be missed.

Then it was home to bed and family and laundry and getting back into the real world again.

But it's not over yet. There will be an end-of-the-year dinner for chorus members on Sunday at the Glendale Lyceum, where we will have dinner, relax and present skits for one another's enjoyment. I'll report on that in the Day Sixteen edition of The View from Greater Downtown Meridian.