This evening, I sang in a choir - the project choir I wrote about the other day. It’s been an interesting experience. It’s not something I’d want to put myself through on a regular basis.
The music was Ein Duetches Requiem which, if you haven’t ever heard it, is mighty nice. Because I’d spent literally hours learning the music at home, the rehearsals were minimally taxing - after I got there. The problem was sitting on the couch in our warm apartment after a long day of work and looking at the cold gray wet weather and contemplating going out into it and biking in the dark for 15 minutes. Well, that was one of the problems.
The folks in this choir are not a friendly bunch. They mostly know each other, but the choir is largely pieced together for this event. The big advantage they all have is that they’re all Dutch - save one British fellow. Hence, they all talk together before the rehearsal and during the coffee break. Only five people (out of about 25) have ever spoken to me.
Three of them are men who were there for the first part of this project (where we sang four of the seven movements). None of them have been present for the second half (rehearsals last night and this afternoon and the performance this evening). The guy who sits beside me also talks to me. We start talking in Dutch and then slip into English when it becomes apparent that the conversation will flow better in English. No women have even nodded at me. It’s one of those environments that is hyper-heterosexual with the men and women not really mixing. And I love women. They’re my bread and butter. So I stood there alone a lot during the breaks. I think they’ve pegged me as “the American” and assume I can’t speak Dutch. This evening before the performance, I sat alone for 45 minutes. I read the translation of the German text and pretended to be busy - secretly hating them all.
The whole experience makes me realize that one of the big things that I most enjoy about being in a choir is quite the social aspect. That’s why it’s nice to have migrated to my new choir with Alastair. We can speak during the breaks and mumble to each other during rehearsals. We sometimes lean on each other (figuratively) while we’re singing. Alastair knows how to correct me in a way that I don’t feel offended. We have an ongoing relationship that is completely missing with these folks. I’m the outsider. The British guy knows a couple of guys because they smoke during the breaks. (smokers in a choir? I know.)
The other tenors are older men who’ve sung this piece before. They have the notes down pat and the German is also not a problem. I know most of it well enough to sing it, but because of the harsh way my fellow tenors have made corrections, I sang a bit softer during some of the performance.
After it was over this evening, all of the tenors shook each others’ hands. I headed for the door. I wanted to beat a path out of there and never see them again. When I saw the director on my way out, I shook his hand, thanked him and stood there while I listened to myself say that if he needs me again, please give me a call. Everyone was talking and congratulating each other when I left. The evening went well, but I was very happy to get out of there.
It’s nice to be home.
Sounds like my first day at college.
I’ve come to learn through reading your blog that you seem indeed to be a very socialable person. they don’t deserve you. Go to your knit group on Monday night and I’m sure that warm fuzzy feeling will return. x
I’m with Lou. If you couldn’t make an impression on them, then hell mend them. Glad you enjoyed the project, though, and, em, thanks for the comments about the Camerata.
I think every foreigner in NL has been through that. I had that during the first year of my son at school (one of maaany examples I can give you). I would be waiting for him on Wednesdays at noon and moms wouldn’t talk to me. Yes, I do have an open face and yes they know I speak Dutch. I would also initiate a small talk but they would abreviatte it. They get uncomfortable with foreign accents, I suppose. It is a public and religious school in a small village so many mothers know each other from Sunday service and “clubjes” their kids attend. We are not religious, our kids go to swimming lessons in Haarlem and I work in Amsterdam. I can tell you that one and half year later I do have good contact with other moms. It would take me some days or weeks in Brazil for that. Here (NL)things take more time to warm up, they get confused, shy and paralysed about “nieuwekomers”. It is nothing personal against you.
I hate to admit this, but I tend to alienate myself in crowds of primarily Dutch people. It’s my own fault. I wish I weren’t so shy, it can be quite crippling at times.