24 November 2023

A National Symphony Orchestra Performance and a Quarter of a Century Around the Sun

As a kid, I had a big imagination and the wild dreams that came with that. I'm sure I had smaller, short-term dreams, but I really only remember the big ones because they stuck with me for years: I wanted to study music, which I've continued to do despite almost quitting a couple of times. I wanted to move to Nashville, TN and become a country music singer on Broadway, which I did in a roundabout way after living just outside of Nashville and founding a folk music group at my school that I got to perform with. I wanted to live in Ireland someday, though that was a far-fetched dream. And I wanted to perform in a professional orchestra. I was able to see that last dream out to completion as I turned 25 years old on 24 November, 2023.

My performance with the National Symphony Orchestra was my first performance with a "real" orchestra, and I could not have been more nervous. I practiced a lot (like, a LOT) and listened to hours of recordings, meticulously marking my part and trying to anticipate choices that a conductor or the clarinet section leader might make. I like to be prepared for any scenario, and walking into a professional orchestra for the first time, I wanted to be very well-prepared.

The National Concert Hall is a beautiful building, albeit a bit imposing to a nervous newcomer, situated near St. Stephen's Green and Iveagh Gardens in the heart of Dublin. The hall itself was smaller than I imagined, but quite beautiful. It felt even smaller due to the amount of musicians on the stage: an extra player for each wind instrument and somewhere between 10 and 20 extra strings. Add to that a full choir bolstered by RIAM's choir and the stage and its balcony were packed full.

My view of the audience from my spot in the middle of the stage.

The concert was part of a 175th anniversary event celebrating the founding of my school, the Royal Irish Academy of Music. A select few musicians were chosen to perform with the orchestra after auditions in the fall, and I feel incredibly lucky to have been chosen. The program was Vaughan Williams' A Sea Symphony, Britten's Four Sea Interludes, and Mendelssohn's Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage, all conducted by the wonderful American conductor Leonard Slatkin.

My section mates were the most friendly and welcoming people that I could've hoped for during my first "real" orchestra experience. And I want to tell you a story about that.

On 23 November, the night before this performance, riots broke out on the north side of the river. Multiple people, including children as young as five and six years old, were attacked by a man outside their school on the afternoon of the 23rd. That night, areas nearby descended into chaos amidst rioting, looting, and the burning of public transport and Gardaí vehicles. All modes of public transport were shut down, roads were closed, and Gardaí and locals were swarming the streets. I was at a rehearsal for this performance that night, and no one in the orchestra found out about what was happening until we reached our break at the halfway point of the rehearsal.

What happened next was a show of human compassion and cooperation unlike anything that I've ever seen.

Almost immediately, orchestra managers came out and began asking which students were affected by the public transport closures. While I'm lucky to live within walking distance of basically anything in Dublin, many people take trains into the city from cities outside of Dublin in order to save on living costs. After taking the names of those students who were effectively stranded, they began taking names of orchestra members who were willing to drive not only students but other orchestra members that were also stranded. People started raising their hands and calling out city names for the direction that they were going, quickly rounding up students and other members who were headed the same direction. They said, "We want everyone here going home in a car with someone. We do not want anyone leaving here on foot, it just isn't safe." Every single person leaving that night had a ride home, including me. Two of my section mates offered a ride, and I ended up leaving with the bass clarinetist and the principal bassoonist.

I've never believed in coincidences and instead believe in the power of this performance falling on my 25th birthday in Ireland. There have been plenty of days here where I felt unsure and a bit lost, but after the pure humanity of the 23rd and performing on the 24th with a professional orchestra on my 25th birthday in Ireland of all places in the world, it feels like a sure sign from the universe that I'm on the right path and that I am meant to be here. I have no idea what the future holds, but I find that the older I get, I don't mind the not-knowing. I've been lucky to fulfill basically every dream that I had as a kid, and the beauty of that is that I get to have new dreams. Just like that heart-wrenching scene from Tangled (my favorite Disney movie that coincidentally came out on my birthday). The future is a blank canvas open to any dream that I can dream.

So my quarter-of-a-century-around-the-sun-we-all-go-'round wisdom is to go after your dreams, no matter what they are or how out-there they might seem, and that people are good even when things in the world might seem bleak. I was the recipient of that goodness that night, and I am living proof that dreams come true. If 12 year-old me had cared about the impracticality of her dream of living in Ireland one day, 24 and 25 year-old me wouldn't be writing this blog post from her apartment on Thomas Street in one of the most culturally-rich areas of Dublin, Ireland after one of the most important performances of her life. This life is too short for you to not go after anything that you could ever dream up. How you spend your time is how you spend your life, and I for one cannot imagine spending my birthday in a more powerful way, doing what I love surrounded by people who love when it's needed most in the world.

After one of the coolest performances I've ever done, doing what I love.

Here's to the power of a dream. And to love.

Le ceol agus grá,

Bernadette