Reflecting on our performances...

I recall Andres, the white-African music director of the Stollenbosch University event talking about how ten years ago this would not have been possible. Ten years ago they would have been arrested for talking to each other, for performing with each other. It was impossible to believe that people would be arrested for associating with people of a different race. I was not raised to see color, size or sexual orientation and while I have clearly seen racism throughout my life, it was hard to fathom systematic racism. In the choir, bringing together people of different backgrounds was the diversity we strived to achieve. We were a motley crew of all ages, sizes, colors and convictions. It was a badge of diversity that we all proudly wore. Andres said that he could actually see our bright, white light coming in the room when we entered and that he hopes through us he can teach others how to emulate it, that our spirit, our passion was tangible. As if our convictions were right there on stage with us, as fellow choir members, dressed and ready to sing.

I was surprised at first see some of the posters around the city that promoted our performance. Having experienced only a nominal level of notoriety back in the States, I thought about how I would never be able to describe to my family and friends the Beatlemania-like affect I felt we were experiencing. Whether the stage is Lincoln Center or in the basement of a local synagogue the sentiment is the same.

After hundreds of performances singing the music I love, I have become much better at knowing when to pull my voice back so that my vocals don’t crack in the intense, emotional atmosphere. It’s usually during or after key change when the song reaches its pinnacle, the payoff comes and I often get really emotional. It’s pull back or crack, baby. Like a dream that carries you away, almost an outer body experience, you can influence the crowd with your enthusiasm but the crowd mostly influences you. The audience is so important to a performance. Their vibe, their chemistry is absorbed on stage. The need for the audience to respond is so great. When they don’t its like reading your journal to a wall and expecting compassion and empathy in return. This was definitely not like shows they do back home. Sure, people buy our CD’s, attend our shows at New York’s major venues. But, here something transcendent happens. You become one with the audience. Everyone in the venue is contributing to the performance. They are responding to you, and you are in returned charged by them. Suddenly you are the catalyst for magical experiences. Everyone is on there feet, singing along, clapping and stomping to the beat. You can measure your success in the tears of others.