eigth blackbird 2I suppose it shouldn’t be surprising that after enjoying dress rehearsal at the Lyric Opera a few weeks ago, I would find myself spellbound by another type of rehearsal.

But I was so amazed!

The vibe was totally different. When I watched the dress rehearsal for Lyric’s new production of Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro, I was touched by how much the audience appreciated the production because they were probably gifted their tickets by friends who were subscribers.

Here, I was touched by the group’s level of musicianship and the intimacy of being able to sit in on what was essentially a practice session.

eighth blackbird is an ensemble of classically trained musicians who integrate a broad range of influences and collaborations to make what they do about more than performing very polished contemporary classical music.

I caught some of their rehearsal time during their Artists in Residence program at Chicago’s MCA (Museum of Contemporary Art) earlier this month.

In their residency program, they have taken over the museum’s third floor. In an open area, the museum set up videos and earphones where you can learn about them, see segments from past performances, and explore your feelings about what constitutes MUSIC.

In a nearby gallery, they had set up a practice studio. Practice hours were posted on a sign (mirroring the hours that appeared on the museum’s website).

They had all their instruments there, from a Steinway grand to a tiny silver triangle and wand. Musical scores were arranged on several stands.

A piece of 8 ½” x 11” white paper hung on a clipboard at one side of the gallery cum rehearsal room. On it were posted the names of the pieces (and composers) they planned to work on that afternoon.

Insulated paper cups from Starbucks, looking very natural in the setting, punctuated the space.

In fact, everything seemed extremely natural — except that I, and about a dozen other people, were observing their practice. This was different.

They stopped and restarted if there was a section of music one ensemble member wanted to go over. They seemed very democratic in how they approached using their practice time.

They listened to each other’s opinions. Everyone exercised great openness when they negotiated a place in the score for resuming.

Occasionally, they smiled when they came to a difficult passage. Without providing details of last week’s rehearsal in words, you could almost tell when a few notes or lines gave someone a problem in the past.

You could almost sense their satisfaction at navigating a section with greater ease than they did the last time they practiced it.

I had never heard of them before, but as I made my way down the wide spiral stairs and came across their sign showing that they were soon to begin their late afternoon rehearsal, I had to stay. I never experienced anything like this.

I stood for over an hour with my heavy backpack still strapped on as I watched the oddly perfect and totally intimate experience of observing them practice.

Perfect, in this sense, does not mean without flaws. Watching eighth blackbird practice was a reminder that everything is PERFECT.

Everything is always in a state of becoming. It was refreshing to listen to talented musicians where the emphasis was not on a single performance. Watching them was a special invitation to witness people who loved to make music together and loved the idea of always improving.

Appreciating being in PROCESS is no small thing.