Fête protestante

Dear Mother,

Today is our third Sunday in Paris.  This Sunday, I attended Protestants en fête, a gathering of Protestants from across France to celebrate Protestantism, with most people coming from Paris and beyond.  Many Protestant denominations took part, with about 15,000 attending this worship service (according to France 2, the TV station).

I left the Centre at 9:00 a.m., walking to the métro, taking the number 8 and then number 5 train to Bercy.  My hunch proved right:  the métro was filled with Protestants heading to the same place I was going.  I put my mind in neutral and followed the crowd as it walked toward the Palais Omnisport de Paris-Bercy, a covered stadium used for professional basketball and tennis games, and also for rock concerts appealing to enormous audiences.  Going there felt as though I was simply going to another big game.

First, one has to get by security men who were interested in seeing our tickets and backpacks.
 

Then we entered the complex itself which includes this fascinating stadium built along the River Seine.  There is a spacious area covered with paving stones before you reach the main entrance doors.  The building's sides are covered with grass, which I hope to see someone mow someday.  The complex windows admit light into the massive hallways, but the stadium proper gets no outside light.

The Protestant Federation of France had a booth where registrants could get information, programmes and a light green scarf. 

The massive windows look great, whether looking at them from the inside or outside.  Parisians take pride in its architecture, always have.

I decided to go to the uppermost the seating (seats were not assigned), but on my way, enjoyed looking at the back of this TV camera.  FR2 broadcast 60 of the 150-minute event.

Knowing that nobody would be admitted into the stadium after 10:00 for the 10:30 service, people arrived well ahead of time.  Going 60 minutes early must have sounded like a nice option to the 1,000 singers who were required to be in places by 7:30--three hours ahead of time for still more rehearsing and sound checks for the TV technicians.

Before the service began, friends waved at each other, or showed where seating could still be found.

This family of eight had asked me to take their photo with their camera.  Then I took a photo with my camera.  They are seated in the highest row in the stadium.  I gathered they are of Reformed background, because they knew and sang the Psalms very lustily but did not seem to know the evangelical songs.

The stadium filled, slowly but surely.  The seat beside me was the only empty seat I could spot.  Most people wanted two seats, and I had already volunteered to move twice so that families could sit together.  Possibly, seeing my telephoto lens gave people pause?

As in a hockey or basketball game, you could see the action on the screens above centre court.  The lighting  reminded me of rock concert lighting (not that I ever attended one!), with varying colours, strong spot lights sweeping over the ceiling and banks of lights from the stage and pointed toward the stage.  It was fun to watch, though there was no discernible connection between the lighting patterns and what was happening.

This is as close as I could focus on the stage.  I knew I was a considerable distance from it, but I felt that my location gave me a sense of 'the whole', a chance to observe from the edge. And I think the sound is best at the top (an idea I first gleaned from Eugene Ormandy).

The cross outlined in lights was a bit much, but likely made an effective scene for the TV cameras.  The singers on stage formed the elite choir, meaning that they could read music, attend all rehearsals, and--stand for the entire event (except the sermon).  Janie and Neal opted to sit!  There were quite a few Mennonites from the congregation in Chatenay in this choir, their number being out of proportion to the number of Mennonites in central France.  This was an excellent experience for them.  Next Sunday, they will be wearing their all-white outfits and green scarfs to church.

The green scarfs were occasionally held high (as in soccer games).  It was fun seeing a sea of green undulating in rhythm to the music.  Of course I also saw more staid elderly people who decided that scarfs were best left around necks.

The next photo shows half of the choir of 1,000.  On my computer screen, using photo software, Neal and I were able to find Neal in this photo.  There is an aisle separating the left third of the choir from the rest.  Neal is in the next-to-last row and is three tenors to the left of the aisle.  You'll never spot him in this small version!  We also found Janie in the same section, but much closer to the front (about row 2 or 3) and about 2 or 3 to the right of the left-most aisle, just under the beam of light.  Janie was shown singing during the TV broadcast.

At one point, as the reading of the Gospel approached, a very large (and possibly old) Bible was slowly passed from the back of the main floor to the table serving as the altar.  It was first held by elderly people, who then passed it on to middle-aged people, who then passed it on to teenagers.  This symbolized one generation passing its understanding to the next generation.  While this was happening, a Psalm was sung telling of revering scripture and telling its ideas to the younger people. 

This gal was enjoying herself, so I finally took her photo.  After the event was over and as the crowd spilled outside, her little group of friends kept singing Je louerai l'Éternel de tout mon cœur (I will praise the Eternal One with all my heart).

The TV technicians were hard at work, operating multiple cameras, sound mixers, etc.  There were likely even more people working behind the scenes.  Janice stayed at the Centre to welcome a Mission Network worker whose plane to Paris was delayed several hours.  This let Neal and Janie sing in the choir.  It was nice that she could watch an hour of the service live on TV.

Afterward, people tended to leave in a leisurely sort of way, meeting and chatting with friends, or even posing for photos.

After the celebration, I was thankful for my French SIM card which enables my Canadian mobile phone to work like a local French phone while we are in France (it was easy to insert and inexpensive, but of course I don't use it much).  Neal phoned when they were excused from the choir and we, like hundreds of other people, contacted each other by our mobiles so that we could meet and go home together. 

It was a great celebration.  The music went well, the pacing and choreography held my attention (which surprised me), I actually knew some of the songs, and I am glad that I just happened to be in Paris when this fête was held.

All for now, with love from us both,

Evan

P.S.  We are able to see the TV broadcast for one week by going to:
http://www.france2.fr/emissions/les-chemins-de-la-foi/emissions/presence-protestante_137161  
However, it may not be possible to see it from a foreign country.

Choir rehearsal for the Protestants en Fête

Dear Mother,

On Saturday, Neal persuaded me to go with him to a choir rehearsal, 2:00-5:00, which is not quite my style.  Next weekend, all the Protestants (meaning all those interested in ecumenical activities) are gathering for a three-day celebration, the second such rassemblement protestant to be held in France.  I like to think that it is the largest such gathering since Henri IV, but it will likely surpass any of his gatherings.  The festival will be held not far from here, and I hope to attend and take some photos on Sunday.

All the choirs from the Protestant churches from the greater Parisian area were invited to join in a mass choir for this event.  They anticipate about 1,000 singers.  Of those, about 400+ were able to get off work to attend Saturday's rehearsal at the Lycée Franklin.  The somewhat crude Benjamin Franklin was adored by Parisians (especially by some women) during his years in France.  He was instrumental in getting the French involved in the so-called 'American Revolution'.  Without the aid of the French navy, the colonies would surely have lost the war, hands down.  But that's another story, seldom told in US public schools.

As one of the photos shows (two Mennonite Church Mission workers enjoying a photo on a smart phone), the Eiffel Tower was just across the river from where the rehearsal was held.

People gathered.  An elite choir was seated on the main floor, all the other women on what we call the second floor, and all the men on the third floor.  The instrumentalists were gathered on the platform before the elevated altar, which was at the height of the second floor.  This is a Catholic high school, apparently able to offer Mass to its students.

The photos show how far singers were from the conductor and instrumentalists.  Even so, the sound in these acoustics was fantastic.  The singers and instrumentalists are clearly amateurs, but they love to sing.  After they warmed up a bit (vocal exercises which had nothng to do with what was to follow), they sang a cappella, A toi la gloire, one of two French hymns I know at least one verse by heart.  The sound was absolutely overwhelming in four-part harmony in that room.  I tried to wipe my eyes without being noticed, but I really would have preferred to cry, just let go.  It was utterly beautiful . . . raw, enthusiastic, and beautiful.  It was a choral sound I have not heard for years, possibly not since the College Mennonite Church met in the old Assembly Hall in the late 1940s.  A wall of choral singing.

I slowly moved about, shooting from this angle and that.  Soon I realized that I could not get everything in one photo, regardless of where I stood.  The sound was the best on the top level, where I started, but I could hardly get a shot of the conductor and singers from there.  These photos give some idea of what it was like being in the choir, in various places.  The photos also remind me that these singers took their music seriously, all 17 works.  I am so glad I went!

I eventually met the head organizer of the three-day event, who kindly asked that I speak with the conductor about my taking photos.  Neal then introduced me to the conductor, John Featherstone, an Englishman now living in France, an accomplished arranger and choral conductor.  He was very nice, asking only that I provide him copies of anything that might be useful, and this I have done via my flickr site.

The brass band was from the local Salvation Army.

I enjoyed observing individuals, or even groups of people singing together.  They were really concentrating, even if they seemed to be far away.

This is my favourite shot of my trip thus far, a father singing in full voice while holding his sleeping son.  That is one lucky son.  I can still remember singing beside you in church in Wadsworth.  I think I was an alto then.

I hope to attend the last mass rehearsal this Saturday, in the stadium.  Who knows, I might get more photos.  Meanwhile, we are thinking about a trip to ??? Tuesday-Friday, but need to name a city soon!

With love from us both,

Evan