I arrived punctually late. Although I showed up just before the official start time, to get a proper seat I ought to have come ten minutes sooner. Ah well. I had spent the day sitting around anyway. I found myself a nice cool expanse of wall to lean against and settled in. Without warning, a susurration of tenor voices swept through the cathedral. Despite standing in the back of the room behind a pillar and facing away from the choir, I felt surrounded by the voices. Domed ceilings and marble walls do more than look pretty, it would seem.
As the first chant faded away, a saxophone swelled. The organ hummed out chords for the soloist to build his tune around. I had expected the improvisation to sound jazzy. I'd never heard any other sort of improv after all. What I heard reminded me of a prayer. The prayers I hear always seem to have an unconscious rhythm and pattern, making them both earnest utterances and half-formed poems, just as the soloist made both soulful phrases and incomplete melodies. Moreover, both left me feeling like I'd heard something publicly private.
A few songs were neither chants nor improvisation but rather choral pieces inspired by poems (texts unfortunately not included.) These pieces definitely felt more modern and upbeat but no less reverent. All three music styles flowed from one to the other nigh on seamlessly. I did not really expect the combination to work. I can gladly say that I was wrong.
I don't know if you were tired when you wrote this, but you need to check your punctuation. You have some run-ons and fragments - not like you....
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