By GALA Expert
December 6, 2023
Posted on: July 3rd, 2014 by Bryn Nelson
Dresden, Germany had always been synonymous in my mind with the senseless devastation of war. I knew that the once-lovely city had been largely rebuilt since WWII but I was wholly unprepared for the breathtaking beauty and grace of the city center, where extensive renovations have restored many of the famous landmarks to their former grandeur.
For the third major concert of our Germany tour, we made a day trip on June 25 from Leipzig to sing in Dresden’s St. Pauli Ruine, a venue that encapsulates the city’s rise from the ashes. Today, the bombed-out and half-ruined church is a fantastic concert and theater venue covered with a glass roof. The visual effect is stunning, and the acoustics are superb.
With such a poignant reminder of the war all around us, our concert there took on added meaning, and many of us agreed that the sound, the emotion and the terrific audience response made this our best performance yet. Baritone Morgan Smith and actor Kip Niven, who have played Manfred Lewinand Gad Beck with such passion, always make my eyes blur near the end of our “For a Look or a Touch” opera. For this production, Morgan climbed to the top of the church for a solo that sent shivers down my spine. It was mesmerizing.
We ended the evening with our a cappella signature, “Over the Rainbow.” In this unforgettable setting, it was a song of hope and encouragement. It’s also something we sing often at the funerals of chorus members. And so it seemed a fitting tribute when we sang it again the next day at a simple memorial in a large clearing on a wooded hillside above the town of Weimar: the Nazis’ Buchenwald concentration camp.
We had stopped here on our way to Cologne. To sing. To mourn. To cry. To remember that this is why we’re here. And the reminders at a site where more than 56,000 people died were overwhelming. The crematorium and solitary confinement cells have been preserved, the foundations of the prisoners’ barracks have been carefully demarcated, and there’s a plaque with a pink triangle that memorializes the 650 “homosexual men that suffered here.” Our guide described one particularly cruel form of torture that was right out of “For a Look or a Touch.”
I knew that the proceeds of our concerts in Germany had been earmarked for the foundation that runs the Buchenwald memorial, but being here in person gave the trip a far deeper resonance. We gathered in a semi-circle, in front of the foundations of a barracks that held Jewish prisoners, and sang, “The Buchenwald Song,” written by the prisoners themselves. It speaks of hope, of freedom, of saying yes to life. We followed with “Over the Rainbow,” and the Kaddish prayer by several members. There were few dry eyes on our walk back to the buses.
For our final concert, we performed June 27 at the Friedenskirche (or Church of Peace) in Krefeld, about an hour north of Cologne. Like so many others, this church was heavily damaged in WWII and had to be extensively rebuilt. Before the concert, a church member invited several of us to climb up the restored bell tower and take in a sweeping view of the town and its surroundings.
Before a small but energetic audience, we shared the story of Gad and Manfred and then our American repertoire one last time. For one of our encores, the church pastor and cantor had a special request: ABBA. We obliged with “Lay All Your Love on Me.” And after a hearty German-style barbecue with our hosts, the church organist returned the favor with a fantastic ABBA medley.
On the evening of June 28, our entire tour group gathered for a farewell dinner cruise on the Rhine River in Cologne. Aboard the boat, we were no longer the Seattle Men’s Chorus or the Heartland Men’s Chorus or staff or musicians or allies but one big family that had bonded over 10 remarkable days. We laughed and hugged, sang and danced, and took pictures of each other and the dramatic nighttime skyline.
Liebe gewinn.
Love wins.