Paris 2016

Yep. I went to Paris again. I returned to perform in the Jazz Opera: “Don’t worry, Be HaRpy.” It was a wonderful trip – grueling (we were driving constantly to rehearsal and soundchecks) but wonderful. But it didn’t start off that way. I should note here that things got amazingly better almost immediately, but I have to describe it to you!!

After the seven hour flight I was picked up (by the dutiful and incredible driver Younes) and taken to my residence for the duration of my stay. It sounded picturesque enough: a cottage on the grounds of Chateau de Chamarande- a mini Versailles in the middle of the forest/park/estate grounds. But upon seeing the dwelling I was beyond shocked and disappointed. It was a cold empty building with various “bedroom/cells” that were devoid of atmosphere or decor. There wasn’t a closet or hanger in sight. There was a shared water closet (room with a toilet) with a lock on the toilet paper dispenser and the shared bathroom (which I found out would be shared with the French circus troupe coming in later that night) was a stark open room with no decor, no shower curtains, no towel racks, no soap – nothing. It reminded me of a women’s prison.

I was exhausted and at the time, resigned to my fate. My choices seemed few: stay here in a place where even my cosmetic bags seemed ill at ease, book a hotel (not feasible) or book an Air bnb (troublesome) But in that moment all I could do was drop my bags and make up the single bed and sleep. It was freezing in there and I instantly caught the sniffles. I stretched the paper thin sheets on the paper thin mattress and tried to nap. It was at this time that I noticed the dangling daddy-long leg spiders caught in various distorted death positions in the grating of the turned off radiators.

I began to furiously post on Facebook of “living in Hell” My always supportive Facebook friends were concerned. Eventually, my fellow Chicago singer Saalik arrived and he too was shocked by the lodgings. We went to our first rehearsal at the venue and he chose to state our concerns: “We can’t stay there!” to our composer (versus my whining and silent suffering except for my pleas on Facebook) and she immediately got on her phone and arranged for us to stay in private homes of her friends. Boom. Problem solved.

And that’s where the fun began. It was great to see the old familiar faces of the band, cast and crew and we waited with baited breaths to see what our new home would be like. It was fantastic. After rehearsal, we were driven to the home of a lovely French couple in their gorgeous, bright, sunny, modern home in the suburbs of Paris. Luxury bath, beautiful bedrooms and lovely accommodating hosts. Thus started our journey through French home hospitality and new friendships. Bread, wine and cheese everywhere. Laurent is an engineer, his wife Valerie is a nutritionist. Food was healthy and elegant.

More rehearsal, early call times and two shows later we were transferred to the home of the bonne vivante and school teacher Chris who we met last Summer when we performed at the Castle Blandy. Chris’ home was totally different: Older, adorable and filled with objet, a piano and cozy familiars. Our bedrooms were charming with big shuttered windows. And man could she cook! I never saw more bread and cheese in my life. She had a lovely garden in the back of her home, to which she would run at a moment’s notice to cut fresh mint for tea and/or mojitos.

Both homes were gorgeous. Both hosts were beyond generous and kind. We basically hit the jackpot and made some great friends in the meantime! And why did they agree to host two American singers at a moment’s notice? Because of their love for our fearless leader: composer/harpist Isabelle Olivier who basically put this tour together on a shoestring budget. No complaints here. I am grateful.

And the gigs were awesome! One night we are playing in a multi room entertainment venue called The Plan; then on the grounds of Chateau de Chamarande; a fantastic night at the French Jazz Club Sunset Sunside in Paris, where I ordered and ate crepes from a street stand at 1AM; and finally a surreal concert in the gardens of the king at Versailles where dark clouds and drizzling rain threatened to disrupt our concert but held back their downpour so we could indeed finish the performance. And the French audiences were gracious and appreciative beyond belief. I see why so many African American performers move there. And in the back of my mind I kept thinking of Nina Simone who lived and died in France.

One particularly beautiful “French moment” occurred whilst driving back from a Jazz Festival we visited. Chris and I were in the front seat singing “Ne Me Quitte Pas.” I have never had the pleasure of doing a sing along to that song with someone who knew the dramatic pauses and phrasing of the tune. I can’t wait to perform it again in Atlanta for my Nina tribute concert there in (YIKES) four days! That will be discussed in a future blog post.

I did some beautiful singing in France and once again reveled in the world of Isabelle’s opera: “Don’t Worry, Be HaRpy!”

I am blessed.