Distinguished Concerts International - New York

Plymouth-Canton's 'Chambrigals' do Carnegie

by Allen Eggen

Allen Eggen shares his experience as a chaperone for Plymouth-Canton Educational Park Festival Singers' trip to New York to perform in our April 17, 2010 matinee concert.

Hometownlife.com

The story begins on a cool spring evening in 2009, at the close of a concert sung by PCEP's Madrigals (ladies) and Chamber Choir (men), collectively known as the Festival Singers, at the Cherry Hill Theatre. Jennifer Kopp, PCEP Director of Choirs, paused to make a few announcements to the audience, made up mostly of parents and friends of the "Chambrigals," as the group is known around the Park.

The usual schedule of upcoming concerts was followed by a very special message: Kopp had submitted a disc of the Festival Singers' State Contest performance to an educational concert production firm in New York. And in this blind audition, Festival Singers had been selected to perform at Carnegie Hall. More than this, the concert would be conducted by Mr. Eric Whitacre, a composer who is very popular with the PCEP choirs.

The stage erupted in cheers as Jennifer outlined some of the arrangements yet to be made. Since the trip would be taken in the following school year, graduating seniors were invited to participate (it was their voices on the disc, after all). Costs had yet to be determined, and there would need to be parents willing to make the trip. My wife and I looked at each other and immediately knew we would be going.

Over the next few weeks, a travel company was booked to make arrangements and costs were added up. Fundraising began in earnest, and Kopp began the task of gaining approval from the School Board. There was never any doubt in our minds that the trip would happen, but there were moments when the bureaucracy became cumbersome.

But no barriers could stand for long, it seemed. Valerie Said joined Kopp as co-director of PCEP Choirs this year, and added her strength to the effort. Finally, we were in the airport, chatting, texting, wishing for more sleep, and boarding a small plane to Newark, N.J. And then, suddenly, we were in midtown Manhattan, a few blocks from Times Square and Central Park, eating lunch at the Carnegie Deli, taking an elevator to the Top of the Rock, and touring the NBC Studios. New York at last!

The following afternoon, the choir had their first rehearsal with Whitacre. Frankly, I was blown away by the man's presence and ability to engage his performers, providing visual analogies to help them understand, deeply, the emotion and dynamic they were to convey in the music. Having sung throughout high school and college myself, I found myself enthralled during the rehearsals at the excellence of the performers and their master.

All of the pieces sung during the concert were written by Whitacre, and provided a broad look at his repertoire. He shared stories about how the pieces were written, sometimes with an intimacy that was overwhelming. He invited the performers to share their insights about the works, and truly listened to their comments. There were a couple of solos to audition, and he allowed any soloist to give it a try, and was gentle and gracious with his choice. He sat down for a half hour and took questions from his adoring fans. We now know that, if he were stranded on a desert island, he would choose to have with him The Beatles Abbey Road, Pink Floyd's The Wall, and the New York Philharmonic's recording of Beethoven's 9th Symphony conducted by Leonard Bernstein.

Between rehearsals were shopping excursions, theatre, and lots of chatting. We saw "The Addams Family" (great musical comedy) and "Billy Elliott" (rough around the edges and tough to follow) as a group, and several small groups fanned out to see other shows as time allowed.

But then came Saturday, with dress rehearsal call at 10:15 a.m. The line-up room buzzed. The line moved out, and the short walk through the darkness back stage opened onto the broad, bright platform that had welcomed so many great performers.

The view was grand and humbling. The few seats in the hall occupied by chaperones reminded the choristers that this was just a practice. Whitacre raised his arms, and they began to sing and make final adjustments for the acoustics of the hall. All was made ready.

Then it was 2:30 p.m., and the hall and two tiers of boxes were filled.

The risers on stage began to fill, and the applause began. Was it because much of the audience was made up of the performer's parents, including over 90 who traveled from Plymouth and Canton Townships to see their children fulfill a dream? Was it the reputation of the man whose music we were about to hear that excited the space and caused such a generous outpouring? What was the special energy that caused the hall to stand and clap for almost fifteen minutes until the last soprano emerged from the door and took her place?

It really doesn't matter. It was time, and the place and the people were together. A pitch sounded, the maestros' arms were raised, and the spell that had been cast that cool spring evening a year before played out in the sweetly balanced music.

Whitacre's charm played over the audience as he introduced each of his selections. The music floated out and filled the Isaac Stern Auditorium with drama and humor and love. All too soon the first act was over and our children were filing off the stage, again to continuous applause.

Following the concert, we walked a few blocks to Providence, a club where DCINY (the concert production group) had set up a reception and dinner for performers and chaperones. Whitacre walked into the room to an immediate crush of fans. He fulfilled a promise made during rehearsal to call on behalf of one of our young men to invite his girl to the prom. Eric laughed, Eric greeted us all, and then he was gone.

Sunday morning, breakfast at the Stardust Cafe. Grumbles about soggy French toast, but enjoyed the singing waitrons. Packing up, quick trips for last-minute souvenirs, then one last meet in the hotel lobby to board the bus for Newark airport. By the gate, our group gathered around Claire's laptop to view photos of the week. Back onto that little plane for the quick trip back to Detroit. Final farewells around the baggage claim.

The story is not academic or athletic, but it is worthwhile because it is artistic. It is in balance of these three educational attributes that our community gains strength and grows. This is a story our kids will tell their kids, and maybe a few of them will be in the audience when the story gets told again.