How I met Erwin Schrott

I had a surprise when I went up to Dussmann's Kultur Krafthaus this evening. Dussmann's is a ginormous bookstore in Mitte, the central part of Berlin, and I frequent it because it has an English Bookshop (which is just wonderful, but anyway). The surprise? Erwin Schrott, who was going to come and do a Q&A session and sing as a promotional thing for his latest CD, Arias. "Well," I thought, "that's a cool way to spend a Friday evening." And off I went in search of some dinner to tide me over.

Sitting in Starbucks, I made a few tweets about the evening, joking with a friend that "@erwinschrott is going to be at Dussmann's tonight. Maybe I won't be the only person there under 30!" Much to my amazement, Schrott himself tweeted me back, saying "If you're in Berlin, please do come!" I was like: 0_0.

At forty minutes to the hour, I went back across the street to Dussmann's, where it quickly became apparent that the place was full. They weren't letting anyone else in. I stood surrounded by a bevy of indignant German women, trying to decide what to do. Do I stay or do I go home? Luckily, looking over the event hall is the second story balcony, so I rushed upstairs and grabbed the best spot before anyone else could.

You see where this guy is standing? That's exactly where I was, just outside the main event room, on the balcony.

This was the view I had:

To kill time, I made a few tweets with my phone:
"Chilling on the balcony, waiting for @erwinschrott. Capacity crowd; I'm actually outside."
"Lol, now people are pointing at me like "There's a girl on the balcony! What!" My spot; not moving."
"One of the employees just moved a rack of calendars and offered me a chair. "You've got the best seat: you can see AND hear!" :-)"

And then Erwin Schrott came out, and everyone applauded, and he bowed, and said, "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for coming! I'm glad you could all make it. I want to say that I was reading on Twitter about my friends coming, and I'm so sorry you couldn't find seats and have to stand on the balcony! Where are you at?" And he looked straight up at the balcony, where I was standing with about fifteen other people.

With a shock, I realized that he was talking about me. I waved at him with my fan (I carry a fan in summer) and grinned. "There you are! I'm sorry you couldn't get a seat!" cried one of the most famous baritones of our day, and WAVED AT ME.

The lady standing next to me stared at me. "Do you know him?" she asked.
"No. I was just talking about this event on Twitter," I replied. And then I tweeted, "Dude, was @erwinschrott reading these tweets?! He totally mentioned people tweeting from the balcony."

The Q&A session was hosted by a woman from the local classical music radio station, and the topics were like those in any interview: how do you make time for family; how do you pick your music; etc, etc. Despite the microphones, I couldn't hear them very well. Mr. Schrott stood up to sing twice. The first time was Le Veau d'or ("Le veau d'or! I love this aria! And he totally blew a kiss to us all in the balcony. :-)"); the second was a Spanish song accompanied by a fierce accordian player:

At the end of the evening, Schrott asked the audience to ask him questions.
"Come on, I want to know about you, too!" he cried when everyone just stared at him. He got a few shy queries. It was very sweet. When that was over, Schrott settled at a table to sign autographs, and I figured that since he'd given me a shout-out about not having a seat, I should go down and say hello. I didn't have anything with me but the flier advertising the evening, but I got in line and waited until it was my turn. Eventually, I stood there before him.

"Hola," he said to me. (The man before me spoke to him in Spanish.)
"Hola," I replied. "Thanks for giving us all a shout-out on the balcony. That was really nice of you."
And Erwin Schrott, who is world famous, leaned over the table and said, "You're the one who said on Twitter that you would be the only person here under thirty! Aren't you?"
"Yes," I said, "and I think I was."
"I think so," he replied, laughing, and held out his hand for me to shake. "I'm glad you made it! I'm sorry that you couldn't find a seat. I love it when my fans from Twitter make it down to events like this. It's so nice that we get to have more contact."
"Yeah, don't you just love Twitter?" I said.
"Yes, it's wonderful," Erwin Schrott said, and took my small flier up to sign. "And is your name really Christie?"
"Er, yes," I said, amazed that he'd noticed that my name appears on Twitter. "With a C-H and an I-E."
He signed my program "Para Christie! Erwin Schrott." I thanked him, took it up, and wished him a nice weekend and good luck in Don Giovanni, which he's doing with the Staatsoper. He told me to have "a wonderful night" and "Ciao!" and off I went.

When I got outside, I realized that I was shaking. All that excitement had done me in.

But it gets better. When I got home, there was a retweet of my tweet, by Mr. Erwin Schrott: "Dude, was @erwinschrott reading these tweets?! He totally mentioned people tweeting from the balcony." This was added: "Of course I was!" So basically, the whole pre-event time I was clowning around on the balcony, he was backstage reading what I was saying. I about fell over and died. Can you say awesome?

Mr. Schrott, you have won a fan in me. Not only are you a fabulous singer, but you are a fabulous person, too, and I appreciate your kindness.:-)