By Ericka Alston Buck
Particular to The AFRO
On a pleasantly heat spring night time in Baltimore on April 3 starting at 7:30 p.m., the Joseph Meyerhoff Symphony Corridor turned one thing far better than a live performance venue—it turned sacred floor. Gospel Fest, a wide ranging collaboration between the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, Pastor Smokie Norful, and three of the nation’s most distinguished HBCU choirs, delivered an unforgettable expertise that left the viewers uplifted, tearful and spiritually full.
The night time started with Jonathan Taylor Rush on the podium—a conductor recognized for seamlessly mixing gospel fervor with classical sophistication. From the very first notes of “Carry Each Voice and Sing” the tone was set. Viewers members rose to their ft with reverence, many inserting palms over their hearts or lifting them towards the heavens. It was clear that this night can be about greater than music. It might be about reminiscence, motion and ministry.
Following the Black nationwide anthem the orchestra and choirs carried out “Reward Ye the Lord,” a triumphant and joyful choice that stuffed each inch of the symphony corridor. The power was electrical, and Rush’s conducting fashion—equal components precision and fervour—made the classical symphony really feel like a vigorous church band.
(Picture by Charles Sykes/Invision/AP)
One of many night’s most poignant moments got here with the world premiere of “Deep River,” a brand new work by James Lee III that was commissioned by the BSO. It was a chunk that transcended time, evoking sorrow, resilience and ancestral reminiscence in each observe.
Viewers member Dwight Jenkins, a music instructor in Baltimore Metropolis, described it as “listening to our ancestors sing via the devices.”
The emotional weight of the composition was deeply felt throughout the room, with some listeners quietly wiping away tears.
To shut the primary half, soloists from every of the three collaborating college choirs—Bowie State College Choir below the path of Brandon Felder, Howard Gospel Choir below Reginald Golden, and Morgan State College Choir led by Dr. Eric Conway—joined collectively to carry out a hovering model of Kurt Carr’s “For Each Mountain,” organized by Caldwell. Their voices blended in such concord and beauty that the viewers rose for a spontaneous ovation.
Latrice Palmer, a College of Maryland, Baltimore County scholar and gospel choir member, mentioned afterward, “That final observe in ‘For Each Mountain’? I feel all of us went up the mountain and again down. Whew, the Spirit was transferring.”
After intermission, Pastor Smokie Norful took the stage and reworked the Meyerhoff into what many described as a full-fledged church revival. Backed by the complete orchestra and choir, he launched right into a spiritually charged, nonstop journey via his biggest hits. His efficiency had the viewers clapping in rhythm; “No Larger Love” introduced forth sighs and tender “amens;” and when he bought to his traditional “I Want You Now,” your entire corridor was visibly moved.
Retired educator Brenda Nichols of Randallstown shared, “The best way Pastor Norful sang ‘I Want You Now’… whew. I had chills. It’s like each burden I walked in with was lifted.”
Norful’s set continued with “I Nonetheless Have You,” “In My Identify,” and “I Perceive,” every delivered with the depth and authenticity that has earned Norful two Grammys, 11 Stellar Awards, and a everlasting place in gospel music historical past.
All through the night, the three college choirs—every with their very own legacy of excellence–served not solely as vocal help however as non secular pillars, anchoring the night time in a way of Black cultural satisfaction and intergenerational concord.
Melanie Jones, a choir director and Bowie State alumna, famous, “Seeing these HBCU choirs come collectively, that was historical past. That is what Black excellence feels like.”
The night time got here to a detailed on a excessive observe, with Norful’s closing quantity bringing viewers members to their ft in sustained applause, some even shouting “hallelujahs” and waving their palms in worship.
James “Pop” Wilkins, a retired postal employee from East Baltimore, quipped, “I might’ve sworn I noticed deacons passing providing plates. That wasn’t a live performance. That was revival.”
As the group slowly filed out of the corridor, there was a quiet sense of awe, a collective exhale of pleasure and reverence.
Leonard Grant, a longtime BSO subscriber, was overheard saying, “Tonight, the Symphony Corridor didn’t simply echo music—it echoed ministry.”
