Melody in Brazil: Day 35: Those who have been checking everyday can yell at me; those who haven't had a chance to recently--hey! you're all caught up!

So it's been a week since I've last written. I don't know why; I just haven't felt like it. I think I'm starting to feel really tired from the work I've been doing. I've memorized 15 Brazilian songs and chose 10 to perform in my recital last week--it may not seem like much, but for me it's a lot. Then I'll sing an American song to close the night: a perfect wedding between Brazil and the U.S. Yuka says my pronunciation is perfect when I sing; she says no one would know that I'm not Brazilian by listening to me sing.

I've decided to come home on time, which is July 14, because of how much extra it will cost if I stay and travel. Traveling in Brazil is expensive. My plane ticket to Curitiba and back to Sao Paulo was almost as much as a one-way ticket from Boston to Ribeirao Preto. So, I won't be visiting Rio or going to any music festivals, but I'm not disappointed. I know I've made great connections here and that I can come back another time and will be welcomed warmly.

Saturday I went to the Ribeirao Preto orchestra concert at the opera house here. Boy, is it gorgeous. The concert was beautiful. The first set was by a living Brazilian composer, Jose Gustavo Juliao de Camargo: Concerto para Viola Caipira e Orquestra. The soloist was the guitar teacher at USP, Gustavo Costa. The piece was gorgeous, but different. At times it reminded me of Gershwin, at times Charles Ives. Then, on top of that, there was the Viola Caipira, translation: Country guitar. A tiny guitar, the sound is kind of like a banjo and a large acoustic guitar mixed together. The composition was well done and though complex, easy to understand. It seemed hard to play, but looked like it was enjoyable as well. In the second movement, the viola caipira plays a duet with a viola. The whole piece was fascinating to listen to; I don't think any musician, Brazilian or American, had heard anything like it.

Second was a Concerto for Piano and Orchestra in G Major by Ravel. Well, I love anything I hear by Ravel, and this piece was no exception. The soloist was a pianist named Jean Louis Steuermann, a Brazilian who has internationally toured. I've never heard a piano sound so good live--of course, it might have been a collection of many things: the amazing acoustics, the grandeur of it all...who knows, but Steuermann was definitely amazing! The second movement is almost completely solo piano. I looked up as the piece began and noticed several people in the orchestra had their eyes closed-- a violinist in the back, three or four cellists at a time, and a couple men in the brass section. Halfway through the solo, I looked back over and a couple of the cellists had tears in their eyes! That's something I never expected to see from professional musicians, musicians who don't make mistakes, who are paid to play in one of the most important opera houses in Brazil. Of course, this made the piece even more touching, especially when the cellos join in with the piano.

After the intermission, H. Villa-Lobos was next: Bachianas Brasileiras No.9 for string orchestra. Well, this was typically Villa-Lobos and, of course, conductor Cruz executed it with style. The piece began as a fugue. Expectedly, after the second theme entered, both themes played at the same time. Unexpectedly, a third theme was introduced and all three played at the same time. Like the first work of the night, that of Juliao de Camargo's, the piece was like watching a good action movie: you don't dare lose attention, but neither would you want to, because there's too much happening at once and you never know what could happen next.

Last but not least was Dvorak's Te Deum, a strange, strange piece that I'm still not sure is the right way to end of night of music. The piece was, in my opinion, largely experimental and not exactly pleasing. In fact, to me it was a little scary. The last movement, IV, ends in a typical way, with the chorus and soloists singing "Alleluia!" Dvorak's realization of an Alleluia, though, was the strangest I've ever heard. The ending likened to a three-ring-circus-- "so much happens at once that it's tacky," as a friend of mine said during one of the rehearsals. I think I might agree with him, but the last five times the singers chant, "Alleluia," the audience feels less like they're at a circus and more like they're in Cold War era Russia, with the orchestra in 3/4 and the tympany ringing out on every downbeat: ALLELU-IA!--BOOM!--ALLELU-IA--BOOM!--ALLELU-IA--BOOM!--ALLELU-IA! It's as triumphant as any "Alleluia" declaration can be, but certainly not as pleasing as Bach's or Beethoven's.

The next day I went to Ribeirao Preto Orchestra's commemoration in honor of the 153 years of Ribeirao Preto as a city. They played all 20th century music and ended the night with Ribeirao's own Veronica Ferriani, a singer of popular Brazilian music. It was a beautiful outdoor concert full of the most famous pieces of 20th century music you could think of: A few jazz standards (What a Wonderful World and Moon River), the main theme in Gone with the Wind, Also Sprach Zarathustra --better known as the main theme in Space Odessey-- and some Disney classics, like "It's a Small World After All," which would make any American gag, so I don't feel bad about my initial reaction that night!)

Today I'm going back to the operahouse to see a piano and violin concert. I promise I'll keep you all updated from now on!