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For a good chunk of my adult life I have sung in symphonic choirs with heavy holiday concert schedules. It takes the pitch-your-tent-at-the-concert-hall-for-the-long-haul kind of dedication.
This season, new to San Francisco and not yet settled in a community chorus, I was feeling a bit bereft. Sure, there is an array of musical events to attend as a spectator, but I was looking for something participatory.
So it was that on a recent Sunday, I found myself at the Castro Theater with some 1,200 boisterous souls gearing up for the ultimate communal singing event—the Sing-A-Long Sound of Music.
Built in 1922, the Castro is a theater in the grand style, with gilded rococo details, a sumptuous painted ceiling, and, at center stage, a Mighty Wurlitzer organ, which, as I found my seat, was producing the roller rink rendition of "Climb Every Mountain."
As the organist (David Hagerty) glissandoed to a finish, a perky duo in lederhosen and Austrian frock took the stage to explain the contents of the goody bags we had been handed at the door: a flashcard with a question mark (How do you solve a problem like Maria, anyway?), another with the word "flibbertigibbet" on one side and Maria swinging her suitcases on another, a sprig of edelweiss, a swatch of fabric that looks an awful lot like those curtains that got turned into play clothes for the Von Trapp children, and a party popper to set off when the Captain finally kisses Maria.
Then there was the costume contest, won by a female audience member dressed up as "a brown paper package tied up with string."
To encourage full participation, we were encouraged to hiss at the Baroness, bark like a dog at Rolf (Liesl's suitor/telegram deliverer/betrayer), and to say "ahhh" when little Gretl appears.
As you may recall, the movie opens with several minutes of gorgeous panorama views of the Austrian Alps. So we were also instructed to shout, "Where's Maria?"... "There she is"... "Look over to the right" etc. until she appears on her mountain top.
And then, well, the hills were alive, and off we went, following the screen subtitles if we needed them.
Which I did not. And neither did my seatmate, Janet, who grew up like I did, wearing out the movie LP on the stereo player. Her friend Pam had convinced her to come to the sing-along, to distract her from the pain of recent hip replacement surgery. It seemed to work. We all sang lustily, but perhaps not quite as lustily as the basso profundo sitting behind us. We were especially stellar on "Doe a Deer."
Now mind you, this was not my usual holiday choral experience—no Messiah, no Christmas Oratorio, no candlelight procession. But I'm guessing it will become a tradition. It reminded me of why I sing and how wonderful it is to be in a singing community. It is simply the best high to be had without medicinals.
Happy singing holidays.
