So we found ourselves making our way through Maastricht on a bus. People in the streets kept waving to us as they thought we were the André Rieu orchestra being transported to the concert venue. Since the buses were adorned with the words André Rieu with a large photo of the maestro himself on both sides all I can say is: well, they would, wouldn’t they?
The recording studio was on an industrial estate outside the town. There is nothing to indicate what it is or who owns it - it’s just a very large shiny cube.
As the buses pulled up and we began to climb out, André’s son, Pierre, appeared at the main entrance to greet us. As we reached us he remembered us from previous meetings and spent a little longer greeting us.
We were shown into the interior from the lobby and given a tour with a commentary by Pierre. There was a large rehearsal room, set up with music stands, chairs, microphones and an array of instruments, the kind that were too large to keep transporting back and forth, such as tympani.
It is here that the orchestra plays when they’re recording. Pierre explained about rehearsal, recording, and editing.
The musical arrangements are written by André himself, and rehearsed until the orchestra has the notation off by heart. Basically, the musicians have the piano score in front of them while André directs them into the effects he wants to hear. It’s a very unorthodox way of scoring for an orchestra, but I suppose whatever works for you is the way to go.
For the visit to the editing suite we were divided into 2 groups. We were in the group that went into the suite while the rest of the group went for coffee and cakes. After that we moved to the editing suite itselfwhere material for CDs and DVDs is put together from the raw recordings in pretty much the same way that recording studios worldwide operate. There were a number of screens where material for the DVDs is reviewed and edited before being finalised and a technician was there to demonstrate the work done to ensure optiimum reproduction, both aural and visual. I found this totally absorbing and was quite sorry when it ended and we made our way to the dining area for coffee and cake.
Pierre joined us and invited questions. One very good question, I thought, was from an American who asked why the organisation didn’t seem too bothered when clips from their concerts appeared on the internet. Pierre’s response was that they regarded all exposure as good for their basic business of putting bums on seats, and it all helps to publicise their activities.
After the Q&A session was over it was back to the buses and thence to the hotel. In reception we were given our room key and found our bags already in the room There was a bag of goodies on the bed, along with a beautifully illustrated programme, a box of Christmas decorations each, and a small flashlight.
We freshened up and rested for a while before going down to the lobby where we joined the rest of the group and then climbed on to our buses to go to the arena where the concert was to take place. In the summer we have dinner at the hotel and then take the short walk down to the Vrijthof Square for the concert. December weather being what it is, and the arena being a lot further away than the square, we were to have dinner in one of the dining rooms at the arena.
Once again we found ourselves traversing Maastricht to pull into the arena’s car park. There were long queues at the multiple entrances but we were shown to an unoccupied entrance where we made our way inside. The people in the queues gave us resentful looks as we passed. They were somewhat misguided in this as the arena itself wasn’t yet open. What was open was a Christmas market which, from the little we saw of it, appeared to be quite an attractive way of passing the time before the concert. We, however, were not destined for the market but for the dining room where our 4 course dinner would be served.
To get there we passed down a wide corridor lined with 100 Christmas trees fronted by couples dressed in Dickensian style. They were a jolly bunch of people, ready to chat with us or have their photos taken with members of our group. It took longer than we anticipated to pass them all as we all tended to dawdle and chat with them.
Nevertheless we eventually found ourselves in the dining room where we seated ourselves at the tables laid up for us.
Dinner was exceptionally good, as anything arranged by André Rieu’s organisation invariably is. We were at a table occupied by two other couples, one Dutch and one Belgian so we were a truly mixed group. We all chatted away together in English as that seemed to be the common tongue between us. We had a great time with them, the wine flowing freely livened up the conversation no end.
As the meal came to an end Pierre Rieu and his young daughter came round and chatted with us once more. He really is an engaging fellow and chats with everybody at the tables where he stopped. Once more we got a special acknowledgement from him before he moved on to another table.
Not long after that we made our way into the arena, which looked nothing like these multi-purpose venues usually do. There were wall coverings and hangings all around the walls, chandeliers hung from the ceilings.
We made our way to the front row to our seats. A little disappointing to find them to the right of the stage set. Previously in the square our seats, although in the second row, were smack in the centre and gave us a perfect view. However, a front row seat is a front row seat, so we weren’t complaining.
The concert itself was as entertaining as ever. There was a different programme, naturally, with a dance troupe waltzing in the aisles, the men in tails and the ladies in pale blue floor-length gowns. At the same time ice skating rinks had been created either side of the stage and the skaters came on, dressed in identical costumes to the dancers.
Towards the end of the evening a group came on stage called the Golden Voices of Gospel. Now the crowd was already on a high from the entertainment already experienced but when this Black group came on and started singing the entire crowd lit up like supercharged Roman candles. The group’s second offering was When the Saints come marching in. They sang it with such swinging abandon, that the crowd was on its feet, singing, cheering, clapping. Those seated near the aisles were jiving furiously. I’m not sure whether the orchestra were expecting the reception they got but afterwards this section of the concert was the talking point of the evening.
At the finale of the concert the dancers came back and as the orchestra played a Strauss waltz they each picked someone from the audience to waltz with. Yes, I admit I was one of them - invited to dance by an attractive young lady in a light blue dress. Here I confess that back in the 1950s, when I was a teenager I wasn’t bad as a ballroom dancer. Going to a Saturday night dance was a great way to meet girls, and I was as keen on that as any other youngster. As a consequence my friends and I used to go along to the local dance school until we were proficient enough not to make spectacles of ourselves, or trample on our partners’ feet.
I was enveloped by a feeling of foreboding as she halted in front of me and smilingly indicated that she would like to dance with me. It’s around 60 years since I last danced a waltz, but I bit the bullet and climbed to my feet, took her in my arms and we began to waltz. Miraculously, my feet did my bidding and we made a pretty good show of the Viennese waltz.
As the music ended I twirled her around (with her help, naturally) several times and then she sank to the floor in a curtsey. I bowed in response and thanked her. I’d surprised myself there. A TV camera was sited close to us, so I wonder if I’m going to appear on worldwide TV. Is the world ready for Bill the Bopper? Don’t send me answers, I already know.
Next morning we enjoyed a relaxed breakfast and left for Luxembourg. It was a Sunday so the traffic was light and we made good time, arriving home just after midday.