Chapter 6 – Competition Day
The girls were certainly nervous as they tossed around in bed, trying to go to sleep. But that soon wore off as, one by one, they dozed off.
When the alarm clock went off that morning, no one tried to laze around. The girls put on their very cleanest and nicely made school dresses, scrubbed their faces so clean that they hurt a bit, and brushed their hair back so well that there were pulled-out hairs all over the floor.
“Are you nervous, Lizboa?” asked Evelyn.
“A bit,” said Lizboa. “What about the others?”
“I’m not nervous,” said Cynthia, though she was seething with discomfiture inside. “If we’re nervous, we won’t be able to perform to the best of our abilities.”
“I never knew you had any abilities, Cynthia!” said Alice, pretending to be astonished. “No, I’m mistaken – you do! You have the unfailing ability to make a fuss and complain about everything on earth.”
Cynthia held her head up and marched off contemptuously.
After breakfast, the girls boarded the bus, and the bus took them to the competition venue – the auditorium of the Peking University.
Their feelings were a combination of nervousness and curiosity as they walked into the auditorium. It was humongous, and the stage was large and deep, with an elaborate collection of curtains. Risers were already place there. There were many seats for audience, and the acoustics of the auditorium were extremely good.
Mrs Jenkins gave a last-minute reminder that they should do staggered breathing and try their best.
They had not been seated long before the five judges of the competitions walked in. There were three Asian judges and two Western judges. Three were men and two were women.
McJone’s Foundry School Choir was the second-last choir to go on stage. Before them, the choirs had come from all different nations. There had been three others from USA (one of the three had sung the national anthem). Four were from China, and had sung Chinese-style songs. There was also a choir from Thailand, who had dressed in authentic Thai clothes, and a choir from Singapore. As for European countries, two choirs had represented UK. There was also another girls’ choir from France, who had all worn dresses that resembled the Eiffel tower.
All these choirs had been excellent – pure, sweet, expressive, engaging, powerful, perfect dynamics and tone, totally on pitch.
After a choir from Dubai had performed, the MC introduced the next competitor. “The next choir who will perform for us will be McJone’s Foundry School Choir, from California, USA! They will sing four songs: ‘Springtime’, ‘Lands of America’, ‘Never Give Up’ and ‘Excerpt from the Messiah Arranged for Treble Voices’.”
They went on stage orderly. The audience looked at them critically, waiting for them to sing. The girls stared into the cold, empty silence uneasily as their conductor stepped onto the stage, her high heels clicking.
She bowed, then signaled to the piano to start playing the introduction for the first song. The choir started singing, and everything was done perfectly – but there was a tension – their nervousness could be detected in their gingery smiles, their machine-like voices. But as the song moved on – that beautiful melody about the springtime – the girls forgot all the nervousness, and put their whole minds and souls into the sweet melody.
The next two songs were sung much more naturally than the first. But the fourth song, their coda, was profoundly impressive, and remarkably superb.
The choir sung an excerpt from the Messiah arranged for treble voices. At times, the four voices split to eight, and then, just like paths on a mountain, they merged together again so smoothly. The waves of sound, the waves of irresistible music, filled the auditorium with life and vivacity. The final chord echoed in the auditorium, mixed with the thunderous applause from the audience.
But alas – the next choir, from Rome, Italy, blew away any impression of the choirs before them. They did a mini-opera – no dialogue, but telling a story. Solos, costumes, dances and instruments came in and out as they wished. True, the quality was good – but not great. The girls were vexed when that choir was awarded a standing ovation – they thought that choir was pushing the rules.
Still, when the competition was over, everyone was in a light-hearted and unruffled mood. Even Lizboa found herself feeling far too happy to snap at Cynthia, who was, of course, complaining about the choir that had done a mini-opera.
“I’m sure I sang a wrong note during Never Give Up,” moaned Lizboa as they were on the bus on the way to lunch. “I’m sure I spoilt the show.”
“’Course you didn’t! We did great!” said Alexis.
“My feet wobble when I think of hearing the results in three days’ time,” said Baixue.
“I just can’t believe that the competition is over after all this hard work and practice!” exclaimed Evelyn.
They had a very good lunch. There was Peking duck, Peking Barbecue, Spare-ribs in Sweetened Vinegar, Vinegar and Pepper Fish, Chinese Cabbage in Mustard and Stir-Fried Hawthorn. Anyone who had a look at the amount of food prepared must have thought that it would have taken 10 choirs to eat it all – but one choir seemed capable of managing it.
Peking duck was one of the most traditional Pekingese foods. The girls loved the fact that there were three different ways to eat the duck. The other foods were also classics, and the girls ate at least five servings of each dish.
“I must’ve gained five pounds at the very least,” said Lizboa, after she had finished her lunch. “But the Peking duck and the chicken was so good! I shall have to do sit-ups tonight.”
“Well, I liked the barbecue and the spare-ribs the best,” said Alice.
“I found the fish very pleasing,” said Evelyn.
“I couldn’t stop eating the vegetarian dishes!” said Alexis. “They were the best.”
“I hated every bit of it,” said Cynthia, though she had enjoyed the lunch thoroughly. The others rolled their eyes.
“Shut up, you spoil-sort,” said Baixue.
After lunch, the girls visited the China Museum of History. With a thorough explanation of the museum, it’s safe to say that the girls knew much more Chinese History at the end of the afternoon than at the beginning!
The girls had genuinely enjoyed the visit, but secretly thought that the ‘bad’ times of China were much more interesting and exciting than the ‘good’ times.
They had a nice big dinner that consisted of glutinous rice balls, braised fish, pickled meat and a plate of vegetables. Afterwards, the bus shipped them to a performing arts center. They asked Mrs Jenkins what show they were to see, and she replied, “We will see a Chinese Opera.”
They went into the hall. They gazed at the elaborate Chinese-style decorations inside the hall, and looked at their program with increasing curiosity: the Chinese squiggles were interesting enough – but what of those actors and actresses in the photos, all equipped with authentic Chinese gowns, impressive headgear, and funny masks that concealed their true looks? Were they so insecure – or secretive – that they didn’t wish their audience to see their faces?
They sat down in their seats and waited for the show to start. It started, to their amazement and amusement, with a woman shrieking continuously – at least it seemed like shrieking to them – until they realized that the shrieking was the Chinese Opera style of singing.
More characters came on – with weapons and scarves and Chinese fans – and even though the girls did not understand any of the dialogue or the song lyrics, they figured out the story through the actions of the characters, the tones of their voices, their changing masks, and translations from Baixue. They studied the props and costumes with interest, marking the exquisite pattern on that man’s gown – and the glimmering jewels on that lady’s headgear.
In their minds, they compared this style of Opera to the Western style. Everything was contradictory. It was a whole new culture of performing arts that they had never come in touch with before, and it provoked a det
ermination to do further study on the subject.
“It’s really so different from anything I’ve seen before,” said Lizboa, after the show.
“Indeed!” said Cynthia. “It is so far below the scale of Western operas that it disgusts me even to think of the flaws and distastefulness of this sort of show. I wonder they survive in the market. Who would pay money to see such rubbish?”
“You did,” answered Alexis, promptly.
“I said ‘would’,” emphasized Cynthia. “Would means willingly. I paid for this most unwillingly.”
“But you weren’t unwilling beforehand,” said Alice.
“I didn’t know that we were coming to see this!” said Cynthia.
This tiresome conversation continued all the way until the girls got on the bus, and ended with Cynthia saying, “That’s enough! I want to sleep on the way back to the hotel.”
In a way, the battle didn’t end like that – because the others made as much noise as they could on the way back.
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