Yesterday I attended a lunch time concert series sponsored by the Washington Bach Consort. The cantata (Es ist nichts Gesundes an meinem Leibe, BWV 25 - for those of you keeping score at home) featured an Organ prelude followed by a choral with symphony. I’ve attended these events in the past and look forward to attending in the future.
Here’s the thing. I attended yesterday and was, as much as possible, trying to put myself in the place of someone attending a religious service for the first time. The concert is hosted by a church in downtown D.C. It’s an Episcopal / Anglican church and is as you would expect somewhat high church. I was reminded of the statement architecture makes. The worship space says something about who you are trying to reach.
While not a traditional religious service, the theme of the concert was purely religious. The conductor even read from the Psalms of which this particular cantata had originated. The text of the Cantata (translated in English for the rest of the world who is not fluent in German) spoke of the troubles and trials of this flesh and the awaited, promised deliverance.
The Organ prelude was amazing - the organist used every limb available coaxing sound after sound from the pipes. For a moment I wished I was his Chiropractor. The orchestra is always top notch, very polished. The orchestra had the usual compliment of instruments included three grown up recorder players for yesterday’s cantata. I’m always amused by the folks who continue playing the recorder after elementary school. The singers were well trained, well rehearsed and the tenor solo stood up and without any music before him launched into a particularly Recitavo - or was it an Aria?
Perhaps the most dramatic thing about attending this type of religious expression is knowing when and how to respond as an audience member. There are breaks, lulls, pauses, throughout the 50 minute service. And everyone in attendance knows that you only clap at the end - and clap they did! The sanctuary was full of people - surely someone was there for the first time - and yet regardless of the pause not one person forcefully put their hands together until the very end. How did they know? It was not printed in the program. Were people told by someone who brought them or was that just one of those unwritten things that a certain crust of people are supposed to know?
Even when it was time to clap it started slowly (by those in the know) and increased in timber and tone as the rest of us joined in. I can imagine what would have happened if someone had started clapping midway through during one of the pauses? I’m just glad that poor slob wasn’t me!
