Olivia reporting!
Our first stop in Bulgaria was Pazardzhik, a small city on the Upper Thracian Plain about 45 minutes west of Plovdiv. We were there to work with Tzvetanka Varimezova, the world-class singer, teacher, and conductor who I’m sure needs no introduction for most of our readers, and who was born and raised in Pazardzhik. Tzvetanka had arranged a big concert that weekend with us, the Pazardzhik Ensemble, and Usmifka choir from Denmark. She and her husband Ivan Varimezov, the accomplished gajda player, had papered the town with posters ahead of our arrival.
Our hotel was in the pedestrian-only center of town, an area with gray stone streets, densely packed with little shops, and shaded by dark green catalpa and horse-chestnut trees. Nearby was the central plaza with big fountains that lit up with neon colors at night, and the quaint-looking Old Post Office clock tower.
We had one evening to settle in and chow down at the local pizza place, and then it was time to get down to business.
The next morning, after a trip to the local bakeries and a café (where I learned perhaps my most important Bulgarian phrase, “oshte edno cappuccino, molya!”), we crammed into Dina and Meredith’s hotel room for a pre-rehearsal rehearsal. Since Raia and I hadn’t been with the group in Serbia, this was our first chance to run through everything as a full group before it would be heard by professional Bulgarian singers and another foreign choir. The nerves were palpable all around. Could we pull off Oj Mori Kavale in time? Did we even remember Sednalo E Dzhore Dos? We were down three strong low voices without Jen, Steph, and Chapin—did a few of us need to volunteer to take up smoking for the next few days?
Maybe it was the sight of twenty-some-odd smiling Danish women in beautiful dresses pouring out of our hotel that evening that first started to dissolve the anxiety. As a big, chattery, foreign clump, we moseyed over to the youth center auditorium, where Tzvetanka and the ladies of the Pazardzhik choir received us warmly and gathered with us for our first group rehearsal. We started with warmups and a runthrough of Dragana i Slaveja with all three choirs. Then it was our turn to get up and sing our solo pieces. In this case, I think the pressure to bring our “A game” was good for us: I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt us listening to each other so carefully. We just needed to dial up the volume a bit more: “Hug the audience with your sound!”, Tzvetanka urged us.
Then we had an opportunity to rehydrate and fan ourselves a bit and enjoy the other choirs’ material as they did their runthroughs. Usmifka brought some big, complex arrangements that showcased the range of their singers and the size of their group beautifully. The Pazardzhik choir were powerhouses, as expected. We’ve all spent hours listening to recordings of the great professional folk choirs of Bulgaria, but being in the room with them and having their sound vibrate through your body is an experience on a whole other level.
Each pair of choirs also had an opportunity or two to sing together in the concert lineup. We got to learn little tweaks to familiar songs as we all adjusted to meet each other halfway on a harmony here or a pause there. It was fun to stand among singers we had never met and feel an instant connection created by the songs we knew in common.
There was a sweet moment at the end of rehearsal where the directors of the choirs all got up and stood together, hand in hand. After hearing all the groups, we felt an even greater appreciation for how these talented leaders have brought us together, kept us disciplined, and helped us do justice to the musical traditions we all value so much.
The next evening was the concert. One more quick runthrough of the program, some practice clomping up and down the risers, and a change of clothes, and it was time to perform.
In short, it went great. Some kind audience members shared videos of the big group songs with us later, and we were very happy with how they turned out:
For me, besides the joy of getting up on stage with old and new friends, and blending my voice with a wall of other women, the highlight was experiencing Tzvetanka as a conductor. She was clear, expressive, often playful, and her energy connected with every singer in the room and locked us in to the sound and emotion that she wanted us to convey to the audience.
Afterwards, we migrated to Roni restaurant for an afterparty. There was much to celebrate: a successful concert, Tzvetanka’s 65th year of life, and the surprise conferment on her of the highest honor of the Bulgarian National Theatre and Culture Association, the Crystal Necklace, at the end of the concert. At long tables crowded with drinks and plates of food, we mingled, traded birthday songs, and danced until closing time.
The pressure and excitement of the concert behind us, we got to breathe a sigh of relief and enjoy two more days of workshops with Tzvetanka, who gave us one great song after another that we can already tell are going to be solid additions to our repertoire. We also managed a side trip to Plovdiv to wander among the ruins and shops and stuff ourselves with palachinki, and a relaxing afternoon at the nearby mineral baths, at the foot of the Rhodope Mountains.
On Sunday evening, we joined the weekly folk dancing in the town square. Hearing a familiar rhythm, Jenny started a line, and a little local girl ran over with her mother in tow, roaring “DJANGURITSAAAA!!!” and joined in, followed by a string of other local dancers. Looks like there’s international agreement on which dance in 9/8 is the most fun!
Looking back, even after the gorgeous glassy seas of Burgas and the excitement of Koprivshtitsa, Pazardzhik was my favorite place that we visited in Bulgaria. Being able to really sink in to local life for a few days, and having such a warm and close musical community around us, was a truly special experience for me that made the whole trip.
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