In a first for me I am writing a blog post on the train on the way back from Paris. Now the weekend is over, I can look back on it with a mixture of relief and contentment but the feeling on Friday morning was quite different.
There was, first of all, the excitement of simply departing from the new Eurostar terminal at St. Pancras; and what a beauty it is. Having a coffee at the platform level and seeing the blue sky shining through the glass roof of the train shed, itself supported by sky blue ironwork was of itself an amazing experience, made better only by the wonderful and not so expensive bacon butties with tomato chutney of the Baby Betjamin café.
In contrast to the good weather in London, Paris couldn't have been damper. Clouds rolled in shortly after the tunnel crossing, and by the time we arrived at the Gare du Nord, a full storm was underway. As we arrived in the early afternoon and our host was still working, we had a couple of hours to kill. Liang, Simon and I spent it in a random brasserie: hamburgers seem to taste so much better when they are called steak haché!
Our hosts were a lovely couple called Stéphane, a long-serving tenor in Equivox, and Harald his partner (a.k.a. choir widow) originally from Vienna. Not having known anything about them before going, apart from their names, I was pleased to see that we were very similar in age and temperament. In fact, Simon and I could not have asked for more gracious hosts, and made better friends, over our time in Paris.
After settling in, we took them out to dinner at their local restaurant called La Domaine Léopold which specializes in simple rustic food from the area around Toulouse. Harald and Stéphane are obvious regulars because we were treated to free aperitifs and a wonderful starter of the most amazing warmed fois gras I have ever had. Just don't think about the duck. We were supposed to meet the other Pink Singers at the Open Café later, but as both the wine and conversation were flowing so well, we decided not to interrupt either.
The next morning was largely filled with preparations for the concert. We met Philip G and Michael for lunch at a bistro next to the town hall and were joined by Ben P, Sue, Liang and his host, also called Stéphane, so it became a rather impromptu party.
The Pinkies are very much like a large extended family, and gathering in one of the side chambers in the town hall for the warm-up was therefore akin to a family reunion. We have only been apart for six days, but you just couldn't avoid the "How've you been? What have you been up to? Where did you get that pink accessory?" type questions. To complete the picture, Liang's and Mike's cameras were out in force, as was Celso's, so I cannot be accused of being the only photo addict!
The first real contact with Equivox was when we watched them perform on stage for the first of the two concerts. Their musical director, Babette, has definitely put her mark on the choir, and their incredible stage presence, theatricality and enthusiasm reflects her own background in street performance. Watching Equivox perform is a real spectacle, and although their outfits are more restrained than previous years (their current theme being a summer party), their stage presence cannot be denied. This is as much their signature as (I hope) musical fidelity is for the Pink Singers.
A minor upset occurred after Equivox had finished their set. We were under the impression that there was to be an interval, but when the compere began doing our introduction we vacated the seats at the back of the hall and trooped on stage. It is not easy going from being unprepared to launching into Dies Irae! I was especially impressed at the comedy double act of Johanthon and Philip R who managed to get the audience laughing and applauding in their bilingual introduction, no mean feat!
The stage itself was very small and apparently has safety regulations limiting the number to a maximum of 42 at only one time on it. That explains why Equivox singers took it in turn to sing in either concert. Even with only 40 Pinkies (and Mladen) there was a bit of a squeeze and I was in the fourth of five rows when normally I am in the third of four. The cosiness meant that I was singing into Liang's right ear and Celso was singing into my left, and I have to say that it the tenors sounded pretty tight as a result. In fact, the whole choir sounded really polished, and if anything the second performance was even better than the first because we were more relaxed. The usual adrenaline rush after a concert wore off by the time I was on stage for the second time, so I must admit I also enjoyed it much more. The break between performances also gave Philip G, who was already showing off his long, toned, stockinged legs, a chance to experiment with novel decorative uses of a feather boa…
The Parisian audience really loved our attempt at the French songs Dirait'on and Hymne a l'amour and the applause and whoops were very reassuring. So I was slightly amused, and partly deflated, when Stéphane said we were very "charming with our English accents". Aww, I was trying so hard too to "parlez la Francais" [sic]. The audience were also very generous in their donations, and by the end of the night we had raised €1,500 for Sidaction, the organization fighting AIDS in France.
The after-party was a mad rush through the rain to a venue called Le Tango, Paris’ (and probably France’s) only gay and lesbian dance hall. There was something somewhat surreal about getting ready for a night out in your jeans and T-shirt finery, to arrive at the venue where couples are doing the Viennese waltz around the dance floor. Clearly it is really popular, but being timorous souls and having four left feet between us, Simon and I elected to spend most of the evening nursing our beers and watching from the side. This did not stop Stéphane for whom Le Tango is virtually a second home. Where does he get the energy! I did get a chance to chat with one of the new altos, Christine, who for some reason I kept introducing to other people by a completely different name most of the evening – sorry about that Christine! Later that evening the music turned to Eurotrash (eek!) and then to 80s English pop, so not much of an improvement then!
The next morning it was with some difficulty, entirely self-induced, that we made it to the venue where the group brunch was to be held. This is where Equivox normally rehearses, and is a primary school near to where we were staying. Ah the mem’ries of small, low, tightly-packed and rather stinky urinals… Stéphane took Simon and I on an abbreviated tour of some of the arcades in Paris, these elaborate and often sealed short-cuts through the buildings between streets; by the time we got there a spread had been laid out. What was better was the chance to chat with some of the members of Equivox like Florian (Stéphane's - Liang’s host’s - partner), Karim (who is the only bloke singing in the altos) and Marc, a rather studious-looking and musically knowledgeable chap.
It is always good to hear feedback from other choirs. I am very much a perfectionist, and I always go back over my own, and the choir’s, performance with a fine-tooth comb to pick out the mistakes made and identify areas for improvement. So I can be quite a downer sometimes, and it was a timely reminder that the Pink Singers really are very good, and we do have a clean, tight and very polished sound, and one that impresses other choirs! We had a chance to whip out that sound again in a spontaneous sing off between Equivox and us, and then reprised Let The Sunshine In which metamorphosed into a conga line snaking around the hall. What fun!
All too soon it was time to get back on the Eurostar to return to London. Unlike Paris, it wasn’t raining when we got back in, thank goodness for small mercies, but for dinner I defrosted a pizza; it certainly ain’t no fois gras! Sigh…
From this week's QX magazine. Guess who was considered hot enough to make it into the photos?
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