Manners and Handel's Messiah

It was a rainy Tuesday evening in the middle of December and the air was nippy, as if signaling the quick arrival of Christmas. My husband and I just managed to park our van into a very tight spot, the only remaining slot in the entire unlit parking lot of the University of the Philippines’ Abelardo Hall (College of Music). Students in their semi-soaked jeans and old folks dressed to the nines all piled into the crowded lobby, hoping to catch a seat in the old and tiny auditorium.

I have to give credit to our dear ole’ university – despite its age, the auditorium did not have that typical musty smell we would come to expect in any old room or edifice. But then again, maybe the extremely cold breeze (yes, it sure felt like one) from the air conditioning system killed all existing bacteria in the room and froze all my nasal hair and any olfactory capabilities I may have possessed. I was thankful to have brought a wrap and beret.

My husband and I were excited. It had been a while since we had the chance to watch an excellent choir perform excerpts from Handel’s Messiah. In fact, we never had the chance, as a couple, that is. It was also an opportunity for us to celebrate Christmas through song.

The auditorium was quickly filled to capacity. It’s amazing how there seems to still be much interest in listening to a choir perform Christmas carols in such a “formal” setting. Maybe people wanted to be reminded of the real reason for the season. Or maybe it was the extremely friendly ticket price that drew everyone in.

After a very entertaining spiel from the Dean of the College of Music, the choirs started to perform their Christmas carols. From the youngest choir to the most professional and world renowned one, my husband and I enjoyed quality singing and performances from our very own university chorales. The rousing Hallelujah Chorus was the much awaited finale and was given the encore it fully deserved. We were proud to be U.P Alumni!

The choirs were all accompanied by a full orchestra, also students of the College of Music. Need I say more? It was a professional performance given at a very reasonable price to anyone who cared to come and watch. And this brings me to my observations for the night.

While the concert was open to everyone who had a ticket (which meant a lot of college students and even some very young children) and no dress code was imposed, I still expected a certain level of decorum and behavior during such an event. I guess such expectations would naturally merit some disappointments.

Admittedly, some of the solo performances were a bit dragging, especially to the younger and uninformed set. One solo even caused some uneasiness. Exposed and informed as I am, I still had to stifle a giggle at the performance of the male alto. Seriously, wouldn't a full grown man in a dark blue Barong Tagalog (Filipino male national costume) singing in a soft feminine voice (falsetto all the way) create some cognitive dissonance? I’ll say!

But stifle my giggles, I did. The rest of the crowd was not as subtle. I almost dreaded the solos, which were interspersed between the chorale numbers, because these were taken as cues to take a restroom break or to simply leave. Thank heavens for dim lights! I certainly hope the performers did not see the bobbing heads and moving figures in the dark as they belted out their arias.

And then there was that unmistakably irritating noise of crumpling plastic bags. Ugh! The rustle lasted a whole 10 minutes before I mustered a look behind me. Two old ladies (perhaps U.P Professors?) were busily rummaging through their plastic bags for some peanuts! I knew they were peanuts because I smelled them and was practically salivating! Was I mistaken in assuming that eating was not allowed during a classical concert? I did not see any signs but I assumed that proper decorum dictated it.

I was very hungry and wished I had brought my cookies. At least mine came wrapped in aluminum foil – not as noisy.

I am always amazed by this growing insensitivity toward others. Perhaps the sound of crumpling plastic did not bother the two old ladies, but in a very quiet crowd with only a soprano singing to the accompaniment of a harpsichord, that same sound can become a reverberating noise. None of our “looks” in their direction had any effect and the rustling sound went on for 2 more arias.

And then there were the random comments given at the most inopportune moments and delivered at higher-than-appropriate decibels. Whispering is a lost art, that is, unless a secret is being illegally shared!

Manners matter. They do because they involve others. Placing ourselves in another person’s shoes certainly helps remind us to be considerate.

My husband and I enjoyed the evening despite the unpleasant surprises. It was a privilege we are grateful for and the message of Christmas resounded in our hearts (and ears!) as we drove the long way home.