It was breathtaking to walk into the grand St. Ann and the Holy Trinity Church, in Brooklyn Heights, last week and see the spacious altar area aglow with hundreds of candles, a grand piano elevated among them. The realization that the candles were battery-powered didn’t much diminish their effect, and anyway no one wants to risk a fire in this historic house of worship (a fine example of Gothic Revival architecture).
The piano—and the many people settled into pews—were awaiting Alexis Ffrench, he of the fleet fingers and (we were to learn) instant compositions. (This concert was one in a series of year-round, multi-city candlelight events.)
It was my friend Dee's birthday (quite a few too many candles!), and as we struggled to get the right angle for a selfie, the nice couple behind us offered to take the photo.
Ffrench began with a rippling cascade to match the wave effect of the flickering candles. Like Jon Batiste, with his new album Beethoven Blues, the celebrated British pianist is not one to be hemmed in by genres—his own latest album is called Classical Soul Vol. 1.
Over the course of the next hour-plus, Ffrench told us charming stories, such as how he studied “hours of maths” by, ahem, candlelight at his home in Surrey and how his Jamaican parents served saltfish fritters after midnight Mass. He played his own gorgeous compositions, including “Dreamland” and “Bluebird” from Evolution, in such a refined way that it was as though his fingers were only skimming the keys. He created a song on the spot, with the help of audience members—asking one to sing a few notes ("Tiffany, that's beautiful! It's in B major") and lifting the letter “e” (well, one of them!) in Dee's name to add an E note. He asked us to join in on “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” ("You really like that G!" he called out about a high note) and “O Holy Night”—I misted over on that one because my late father used to sing it solo in the church choir when he was young. And, among other holiday and popular pieces, Ffrench performed a passionate and tender rendition of a slowed-down “Feliz Navidad.” Feliz indeed, in the deeper sense, and moving as well.
We also supplied background vocals for Ffrench's rendition of John and Yoko's “Happy Xmas (War Is Over)” and sang along on a glorious "Silent Night” before the musician strode away amid the soft lights.
As I left, having stared at them for so long, the candles turned into shimmering flowers, part of a dreamland, if I may borrow Ffrench's word.