March of the Rach-Monologues

It is almost never too late to accomplish new and challenging things.  I say “almost” because there are some activities whose ship sailed long ago for me.  For instance, I will never be a competitive figure skater.  I console myself with the fact that I really never could have been a competitive skater, no matter how early they strapped on those skates.   Heck, as a kid I couldn’t even make it around the Monroeville Mall Ice Skating Rink one time without falling.

However, March is turning out to be a month of interesting firsts for this ole’ girl.  How many times do you get to sing Russian liturgical music and talk about vaginas on stage in the same month?

First, I sang Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Vespers (All Night Vigil), Op. 37 with the Pittsburgh Concert Chorale.  What a majestic work!  A 15-movement a cappella choral piece written entirely in Russian!  What in the world was Rachmaninoff thinking?  Well, it all makes sense because it was a liturgical piece written for Orthodox religious services where the playing of instruments was strictly forbidden, and it was written in Russian because Rachmaninoff was, well, Russian.  So there you have it.

Anyway, when I heard we were going to be performing this piece for our classical concert, I felt good that our director had such faith in us.   The Pittsburgh Concert Chorale is a talented choral group, and we’ve mastered some very challenging music in the past.  With measured optimism, I actually purchased my copy of Vespers.  I figured it could take its place next to my coveted copy of Handel’s Messiah, which comes out annually around the holidays, whenever my husband and I jump at the chance to participate in whatever Sing-a-Long we can find.

 

Then we set about learning and rehearsing the piece which, at 15 movements, only seems like it lasts all night.  Good heavens, there was so much to think about.  There were the notes, the Russian (not my first language), the fact that we were singing without accompaniment to guide us, and then we were supposed to watch the director while we sang.

I like a vocal challenge as much as the next person, but there are limits.  Did our director overestimate us?  A lot of us were struggling.  There were extra rehearsals and sectionals, and lots of listening and practicing, and agonizing and wondering if we would ever, ever get it right.

When the day of the performance arrived, it all came together.  Singing the Vespers well in front of an audience was paramount to a religious experience, as is befitting a liturgical piece.  It was beautiful, and I cannot be more grateful to have been a part of this musical experience.

Next I’m off to perform a very different type of masterpiece.  On March 17^th, I am going to be participating in The Vagina Monologues, the Robert Morris University Colonial Theater V-Day production of Eve Ensler’s work gleaned from hundreds of interviews with women.  It is my privilege to be reading The Flood, a monologue by an older woman talking about her “down there” for the very first time.  It is at once funny and tragic, and all the more poignant because it is a real woman’s story.  I also get to speak the words of a transwoman, a nice departure from my usual roles of nuns and mothers.

In the meantime, Rachmaninoff has taken his place on the shelf in our music room.  My husband says we will be ready the next time someone schedules an impromptu Vespers sing-a-long, which I can’t imagine will happen outside of Russia. 

I don’t know when your next chance to hear Vespers will be, but if you live in the Pittsburgh area you can still enjoy The Vagina Monologues at Robert Morris University’s Massey Hall, on March 17^th at 8 p.m.  There is a suggested donation of $10, and all proceeds will benefit a local woman’s shelter.