It is the Monday morning after a weekend of MWC concerts, and, as usual, I cannot settle to anything.  It’s a good thing that I am retired.  If I were still at work, my contribution on days like this would be pretty unremarkable.

Phrases from the music we performed are continually buzzing around in my head, completely at random.  One minute it is Cum sancto spiritu, with one of the long runs (eventually mastered, but only just in time), and the next it is part of Georgia’s glorious rendition of Et incarnatus est.  The full double choir of Qui tollis interrupts, to be displaced in turn by the densely woven harmony of Osanna in excelsis. Then the charming final movement of the Mozart Divertimento cuts in, and only to be overtaken  first by the roof-raising volume of O come all ye faithful and next the magnificent sound of full choir and orchestra in the Hallelujah Chorus.  And so it goes on and on.

They were indeed two memorable performances.   One member of the audience was heard to comment over drinks and nibbles, “They really are a world-class choir!”  Carlos was justifiably thrilled.

As I put my copy of the Mozart score back in the bookcase last night, I bade the music a fond farewell.  It and I have been deeply entwined with each other these past thirteen weeks.  Indeed, we were so strongly linked that, had the music been a person, Anne might have been justified in thinking that I had been having an affair.  It is music of extraordinary technical accomplishment, radiant beauty and great spiritual depth.

And it is wonderful that we, a community choir, should be able to give such competent and convincing performances.  It is all possible through the efforts of many people – ourselves, in diligently practicing and rehearsing the music; the soloists, in bringing music of such beauty to life; the orchestra, in rapidly mastering complex music with apparent ease; and of course Carlos, in bringing all the elements together and infusing them with his consummate musicianship and engaging personality.