I begin my post with such an edifying and uplifting statement due to last night's alto bashing. All in jest I might add, but, where sopranos are diva-ish and high maintenance, altos are generally sensitive souls. The altos took particular offense when Maestro Boy decided that the sopranos should split rather than the altos because the middle ladies' line is a 'd' and is a little high. Apparently first altos are very touchy about suggestions that they struggle on the top notes.
Anyways, I will start with a little plug as Maestro Boy is performing in what I hear is a startling and thought-provoking musical version of the Rime of the Ancient Mariner . I have completely brilliant images of dancing albatrosses in sparkly lycra doing a big finale number on some Hollywood-style stage steps [Chris hereby gives up on trying to find appropriate linkages]. Oh man, that will stay with me for the duration. I am guessing that Maestro Boy's version is not quite the spangly performance of Fame-esque loveliness that is currently whirling round my head.
On another note, the latest news on the keyboard saga. As you may know (if you read this blog as avidly as you should then you are well up to date with this ongoing crisis) we have had some problems with our little Casio keyboard over the past few weeks. It gradually died and Douglas brought us a new one. In fact it looked even more retro than the last one. Fab! However, last night it decided to create its own musical soundscape, as whenever Maestro Boy switched it on, it made a peculiar flatulent noise. I wonder if the Kings Singers have similar instrumental problems. Actually at one point it even sounded like a cow... it's those pesky cows again, interrupting our weekly musical soiree even when not prompted by A-L.
And so to music. We spent quite a bit of time tonight on our new Chinese (yes fans, another day, another language) song Green Fir Forest. We went through the pronunciation and sang it through a couple of times and it sounded perfectly acceptable by the end.
And, of course, no Wednesday night would be complete without a bit of Tormis, so Lulling it was. Now this piece has a wordy alto part and everyone else can relax into a sway by singing 'By you' (phonetic spelling for those stupid people who don't speak Estonian) over and over again. We all sounded beautiful, especially the altos (another point of alto encouragement). The only potential danger with this one is that you just carry on singing 'By you' ignoring entirely the panicked waving hand of Maestro Boy and the glares of choir members. You just get into the rhythm - like press-ups, but slightly less painful, at least for us if not for our audience.
Heads up to Blogger-in-waiting Claire 2 who left early as she was feeling a little poorly. Hope you are better now lovely lady. Quite a bit of sickness around the Rudsambee-lets recently so get well all. I'm off to listen to the Buggles' classic hit Elstree after Geoff played it so brilliantly last Saturday. Genius!
Until next week: friends, Romans and countrymen, you need not lend me your ears (or eyes) any longer.
CSW
Thursday, 26 February 2009
Tuesday, 24 February 2009
This rock chick is back!
Cheers to Claire 2 (who can I add is an infinitely better actress and creator of striking jewellery than your regular blogstress) who took the metaphorical reins in my absence on Saturday. Fab, matey! Sounds like Rudsambee had a rather marvellous day.
As promised (or threatened, depending on which way you look at it) a brief (I focus on the word 'brief' here - it could be decidedly non-brief if you liked) nod to the general greatness of Messrs John Wetton and Geoff Downes who played a seriously legend gig in London last weekend. May I say that I even wore a faux-leather jacket for the occasion and looked every inch the rock chick, especially cheering on the riffing prowess of the fabulous Dave Kilminster who could even flick his hair in true rock star fashion while in the middle of a particularly tough prog axe moment.
Anyways, I'll be back tomorrow (or Thursday if the blogstress is too sleepy upon her return to Warden mansions) for the lowdown on another night with 'Cloudburst'. The Rudsambeelets (I see in Claire 2's post) have learnt a couple of new pieces in my absence. So yours truly will be struggling to keep up tomorrow and hoping that A-L sings loudly in my left ear so I can sing a fraction behind. Time to get back to being a choral chick as well as a rock chick.
Until tomorrow then, I am off for a snooze.
CSW
As promised (or threatened, depending on which way you look at it) a brief (I focus on the word 'brief' here - it could be decidedly non-brief if you liked) nod to the general greatness of Messrs John Wetton and Geoff Downes who played a seriously legend gig in London last weekend. May I say that I even wore a faux-leather jacket for the occasion and looked every inch the rock chick, especially cheering on the riffing prowess of the fabulous Dave Kilminster who could even flick his hair in true rock star fashion while in the middle of a particularly tough prog axe moment.
Anyways, I'll be back tomorrow (or Thursday if the blogstress is too sleepy upon her return to Warden mansions) for the lowdown on another night with 'Cloudburst'. The Rudsambeelets (I see in Claire 2's post) have learnt a couple of new pieces in my absence. So yours truly will be struggling to keep up tomorrow and hoping that A-L sings loudly in my left ear so I can sing a fraction behind. Time to get back to being a choral chick as well as a rock chick.
Until tomorrow then, I am off for a snooze.
CSW
Sunday, 22 February 2009
Bloggish stuff: Saturday Feb 21st 2009
OK, so testing, testing 1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3 – keep up, tenors.
This is Claire2 speaking. An older, wiser (yes, debatable, I know) Claire and more of a drama-queen than a diva (but if ever you tire of that role, 1st lady, I feel sure I could play it with equal conviction though probably with less assurance on the top notes).
So, haven’t we had a day? A full day’s rehearsal – well, six hours. Maybe five and a half – but we had to get up in the morning to be there and some of us (Ollie the Great Leader, for one, Chris for two and Helen for three) only just made it and, I’m afraid, looked rather like they’d missed out on morning ablutions and general grooming procedures in order to arrive at anything close to the right time.
I had offered to wake up everyone’s minds and bodies with a silly ball game to start the day. We played said silly game. What did we learn from this activity? Rudsambee members can count up to 20 but only with great difficulty and they certainly struggle with counting, looking and listening all at the same time – which may explain a good deal... Add in the demand for throwing and catching skills and the majority of the time will be spent, I fear, with at least half the group on hands and knees (bums inelegantly in air), rummaging under chairs for tennis balls gone AWOL. We proved ourselves expert at the hardest stage of the game, however - (hard = movement required – never popular) which suggests to me there may have been some cheating going on... but far be it from me to turn judgemental and accusatorial. I am, after all, simply your replacement blogetteer.
How am I doing, btw?
Then we sang. Then we had lunch. Then we sang again. Then we went home. Ta-dah!
(Claire’s supper break).
(Now I’m back. With, you’ll be delighted to hear, more energy to complete this task. Here goes!)
The singing was good. We learned two new songs – Crucifixus for 8 voices (Antonio Lotti) which has something to do with cheese but I’m not sure what. I think the cheese are important (Ollie’s grammar leaves a lot to be desired). And also She Moved Through the Fair (Daryl Runswick) which has various very speedy twiddly bits, some of which are faster than others, all of which are confusing. But I enjoyed the sight-reading. Shall I repeat that? I enjoyed the sight-reading. I must be going down with something.
We also practised Hide and Seek and some bright spark (Susan) suggested we should, really, try to sing it off by heart so we dutifully gave it a go and, you know, it wasn’t at all bad. I can, at least, now report that Rudsambee does a fine line in the rabbit/headlights school of expression. I am planning to write a little ditty arranged for SATB on the subject of small, frightened leporid mammals in order to show off our skills in this area. I think it will be a winner.
We did quite a lot of Cloudbursting stuff, too. Clapping and slapping and clicking. (Well, as has many a time and oft been recorded in rehearsal, I CAN’T CLICK. Just as well I’m such a fine actress; nobody would ever guess my deficiency). Ollie is going to ‘encourage us with his face’ at some point during our Cloudburst rendition (which promises to be extraordinary). Do watch out for this if you are in the audience. Someone’s got to.
I can’t remember when it was but for one awful moment today I thought those bloody cows were back with us. 1, 2 moo, I heard; 1, 2 moo. Third time through I realised Ollie was saying ‘move’. Phew!
What else do I have to tell you? Oh, yes. We have a new Bass. Name of Angoh. An interesting chap. Looks much like Arno. Sings the same part. Think he’ll be rather good. He certainly worked very hard today all by himself. And he brought croissants for everyone so he’s obviously keen to be accepted.
I got the impression the GL was pretty pleased with how the day went and I certainly think we ought to do it more often. More space = more warm-up fun. I’m already planning for the next one...
All right, move over, Warden. I’m here to stay.
[Chris says: Susan took a photo which we need a good caption for. Any suggestions?]
This is Claire2 speaking. An older, wiser (yes, debatable, I know) Claire and more of a drama-queen than a diva (but if ever you tire of that role, 1st lady, I feel sure I could play it with equal conviction though probably with less assurance on the top notes).
So, haven’t we had a day? A full day’s rehearsal – well, six hours. Maybe five and a half – but we had to get up in the morning to be there and some of us (Ollie the Great Leader, for one, Chris for two and Helen for three) only just made it and, I’m afraid, looked rather like they’d missed out on morning ablutions and general grooming procedures in order to arrive at anything close to the right time.
I had offered to wake up everyone’s minds and bodies with a silly ball game to start the day. We played said silly game. What did we learn from this activity? Rudsambee members can count up to 20 but only with great difficulty and they certainly struggle with counting, looking and listening all at the same time – which may explain a good deal... Add in the demand for throwing and catching skills and the majority of the time will be spent, I fear, with at least half the group on hands and knees (bums inelegantly in air), rummaging under chairs for tennis balls gone AWOL. We proved ourselves expert at the hardest stage of the game, however - (hard = movement required – never popular) which suggests to me there may have been some cheating going on... but far be it from me to turn judgemental and accusatorial. I am, after all, simply your replacement blogetteer.
How am I doing, btw?
Then we sang. Then we had lunch. Then we sang again. Then we went home. Ta-dah!
(Claire’s supper break).
(Now I’m back. With, you’ll be delighted to hear, more energy to complete this task. Here goes!)
The singing was good. We learned two new songs – Crucifixus for 8 voices (Antonio Lotti) which has something to do with cheese but I’m not sure what. I think the cheese are important (Ollie’s grammar leaves a lot to be desired). And also She Moved Through the Fair (Daryl Runswick) which has various very speedy twiddly bits, some of which are faster than others, all of which are confusing. But I enjoyed the sight-reading. Shall I repeat that? I enjoyed the sight-reading. I must be going down with something.
We also practised Hide and Seek and some bright spark (Susan) suggested we should, really, try to sing it off by heart so we dutifully gave it a go and, you know, it wasn’t at all bad. I can, at least, now report that Rudsambee does a fine line in the rabbit/headlights school of expression. I am planning to write a little ditty arranged for SATB on the subject of small, frightened leporid mammals in order to show off our skills in this area. I think it will be a winner.
We did quite a lot of Cloudbursting stuff, too. Clapping and slapping and clicking. (Well, as has many a time and oft been recorded in rehearsal, I CAN’T CLICK. Just as well I’m such a fine actress; nobody would ever guess my deficiency). Ollie is going to ‘encourage us with his face’ at some point during our Cloudburst rendition (which promises to be extraordinary). Do watch out for this if you are in the audience. Someone’s got to.
I can’t remember when it was but for one awful moment today I thought those bloody cows were back with us. 1, 2 moo, I heard; 1, 2 moo. Third time through I realised Ollie was saying ‘move’. Phew!
What else do I have to tell you? Oh, yes. We have a new Bass. Name of Angoh. An interesting chap. Looks much like Arno. Sings the same part. Think he’ll be rather good. He certainly worked very hard today all by himself. And he brought croissants for everyone so he’s obviously keen to be accepted.
I got the impression the GL was pretty pleased with how the day went and I certainly think we ought to do it more often. More space = more warm-up fun. I’m already planning for the next one...
All right, move over, Warden. I’m here to stay.
[Chris says: Susan took a photo which we need a good caption for. Any suggestions?]
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
Parlez vous francais?
I'll tell you what: Rudsambee is full of linguistic geniuses (genii?). Tonight there was a real conversation in French and there were a number of active participants. The conclusion of our French friend [Helena} on our Debussy linguistic skills? C'est bien! Anyways, we began with the joys of a Clare2 warmup which consisted of s slightly bonkers succession of silly breathing exercises. Muchos fun!
Particular appreciation must be extended to Susan who spent an hour and a half last week writing up the substantial rehearsal notes. She will hereby be known affectionately as Chief Minute Taker (no disrespect to Rachael, the Minute Secretary) (Minute as in meetings not as in tiny, although she is our most petite member).
Cloudburst, as usual, marked the central piece of the rehearsal. John certainly had the best comment of night... apparently (and I second this, BTW) we are waiting in anticipation for the basses to slap their thighs. It must be said at this point (just to clear it up for the sops - Miles and A-L I am addressing you) we are slapping our own thighs not each others. Of course there is then the clapping. This is not "Robin clapping" (our tenor extraordinaire has the loudest clap known to man, more than one seismic shift has been caused by the tremendous noise) but normal, quietish clapping. Do you know, we really sounded rather good. Stop the presses! Cloudburst actually sounds like a piece of music. We then 'chunked' and sang it to our French friend (name King Editor?) [see above, Blogstress]. Now the verb 'to chunk' is a new admission into the Oxford English Dictionary (long version not the abridged). The origin of this word is, well, a Rudsambee rehearsal in February 2009. 'To chunk' means 'to group together in a small clump while still being able to see the waving hand and expressive eyebrows (he has quite expressive eyebrows) of Maestro Boy'. So there you go. That's one to use in your everyday conversation this week.
We also returned to an album favourite with Hide and Seek this evening. It sounded surprisingly impressive considering we haven't touched it since June. This is our 'popular music' piece. We weren't sure we were ready to embark upon pop music but actually it is pretty good, if very low, particularly for the altos who sound a little like the noise hippos make when they surface. No offence meant to my alto friends, of course.
News of the week, we are having a social evening in March. This is an excuse for some ridiculous photographs to be posted on this blog. Hoorah! Clare2 said that we were 'all most welcome' to her house for the event - we couldn't decide if she actually meant we were 'almost welcome'. I'll keep you informed on this one.
Anyways, I am off to get very excited that I only have two more sleeps before I head to London to see two of the greatest rockers of their generation play their own unique mix of guitar riff wonderment and synth brilliance. After writing the post last week my mother presumed I was heading to London last weekend. Brilliant. My Mum is now taking my weekly schedule from the Rudsambee blog. This weekend Rudsambee has a Saturday rehearsal (which I am missing because - and maybe I haven't mentioned this - I'm going to London!) and hopefully King Editor will write something profound in this very space to fill you in. [Actually, Claire2 has kindly agreed to write something up. And we are anticipating a London report from our masterful Blogstress as well!]
Until then... happy rocking fans
CSW
Particular appreciation must be extended to Susan who spent an hour and a half last week writing up the substantial rehearsal notes. She will hereby be known affectionately as Chief Minute Taker (no disrespect to Rachael, the Minute Secretary) (Minute as in meetings not as in tiny, although she is our most petite member).
Cloudburst, as usual, marked the central piece of the rehearsal. John certainly had the best comment of night... apparently (and I second this, BTW) we are waiting in anticipation for the basses to slap their thighs. It must be said at this point (just to clear it up for the sops - Miles and A-L I am addressing you) we are slapping our own thighs not each others. Of course there is then the clapping. This is not "Robin clapping" (our tenor extraordinaire has the loudest clap known to man, more than one seismic shift has been caused by the tremendous noise) but normal, quietish clapping. Do you know, we really sounded rather good. Stop the presses! Cloudburst actually sounds like a piece of music. We then 'chunked' and sang it to our French friend (name King Editor?) [see above, Blogstress]. Now the verb 'to chunk' is a new admission into the Oxford English Dictionary (long version not the abridged). The origin of this word is, well, a Rudsambee rehearsal in February 2009. 'To chunk' means 'to group together in a small clump while still being able to see the waving hand and expressive eyebrows (he has quite expressive eyebrows) of Maestro Boy'. So there you go. That's one to use in your everyday conversation this week.
We also returned to an album favourite with Hide and Seek this evening. It sounded surprisingly impressive considering we haven't touched it since June. This is our 'popular music' piece. We weren't sure we were ready to embark upon pop music but actually it is pretty good, if very low, particularly for the altos who sound a little like the noise hippos make when they surface. No offence meant to my alto friends, of course.
News of the week, we are having a social evening in March. This is an excuse for some ridiculous photographs to be posted on this blog. Hoorah! Clare2 said that we were 'all most welcome' to her house for the event - we couldn't decide if she actually meant we were 'almost welcome'. I'll keep you informed on this one.
Anyways, I am off to get very excited that I only have two more sleeps before I head to London to see two of the greatest rockers of their generation play their own unique mix of guitar riff wonderment and synth brilliance. After writing the post last week my mother presumed I was heading to London last weekend. Brilliant. My Mum is now taking my weekly schedule from the Rudsambee blog. This weekend Rudsambee has a Saturday rehearsal (which I am missing because - and maybe I haven't mentioned this - I'm going to London!) and hopefully King Editor will write something profound in this very space to fill you in. [Actually, Claire2 has kindly agreed to write something up. And we are anticipating a London report from our masterful Blogstress as well!]
Until then... happy rocking fans
CSW
Wednesday, 11 February 2009
Cows - watch out for the running theme of the post!
So as to make up for the lateness of the last post, this post is written in the veryhour after our rehearsal finished. Just like Fleet Street fans. Bring me copy! etc. Well, this evening's songfest was a cacophony of laughter and hilarity so King Editor suggested that I write a serious post with none of the usual quips. However, like JK Rowling I have only one writing style; she has Harry Potter as her Muse, I have Maestro Boy. I cannot, unfortunately, construct a serious post however hard I try, which is a bad omen when it comes to things like condolence cards and the writing of wills. However, I digress...
We began tonight's rehearsal with the joy of an A-L warm-up. Always a jolly affair, A-L got us touching our toes and giving ourselves a shake. We then made noises like cows (you aren't surprised? Well ,there you are) followed by a beautiful rendition of Irish Blessing. A-L got us to form a huddle (like pre-footie match) with arms over each other's shoulders, and sing to each other. I'm not sure I have experienced such a moving musical experience. John even closed his eyes to prevent his tears from falling... or it might have been because he didn't want to catch Jen's eye. It is a fact universally acknowledged that during a Rudsambee warmup one should never never ever no never catch Jen's eye. It is a dangerous thing and generally you, and she, end up snorting.
As promised we began the tough bit of Cloudburst tonight. Yes, that's right, the bit that splits into fifteen parts (for less than one bar , mind you)and involves us clicking, clapping and slapping our thighs. The image in your minds must be a keeper. Anyways, we did it all rather well actually and managed to work out what when to click and when to clap - and even when to sing a couple of notes! Now, I lost it for a bit in the middle there because Anne and Maestro Boy decided to have an intricate conversation about, well, musical things. As confessed last week I am the one who failed my first round of Grade 5 music theory so don't ask me what they were talking about, they may as well have been speaking Arabic backwards... oh hold it, that's how it always works. So apparently we are performing antiphonal clicks and the scale before the crazy click sequence is in Friesian mode. Hold it, it might not have have been Friesian come to think of it... it may well be that cow image again. Anyways, ask Maestro Boy for the accurate terminology. [Chris says: Phrygian, dear blogstress.]
We finished with a quick run through the Debussy and then (as is customary) a little bit of Tormis. It was Kanarbik tonight (the one where A-L sings a top Z or something; I tickled her mid-squeal tonight and, like a true professional, the note didn't even quiver) and we spent a good long time trying to get the chords tuned well. We then sang it through, ending up in great hilarity as the basses came in sounding like the cows of A-L's warmup. Granted it is a very low note but honestly, how funny was it!? Suffice to say we didn't hit the final chords through our laughter!
Anyways, on that note I only have a celebratory cheer for Robin and Elaine who, combined, are aged 90 this week. Blimey! I'll leave it to you to decide which one is thirty and which is sixty (or any other combination)! On the way home Rach and I discussed the merits of Genesis and Simon and Garfunkel - a couple of musical recommendations for you there. Oh, and we talked about rock stars who cut their hair and both decided that Dave Gilmour improves with age. Goodness, that's his second mention in as many weeks.
Have a fabulous week. This week I will mostly be getting excited about heading to the capital to see my favourite rockers' gig. Hope you have an equally thrilling (I mean that in all sincerity - I've just realised that generally we only use the word thrilling in a sarcastic manner) week. Stay out of the way of any rampaging cows. Or Basses. They sound similar so may be mistaken for one another in fields...
CSW
We began tonight's rehearsal with the joy of an A-L warm-up. Always a jolly affair, A-L got us touching our toes and giving ourselves a shake. We then made noises like cows (you aren't surprised? Well ,there you are) followed by a beautiful rendition of Irish Blessing. A-L got us to form a huddle (like pre-footie match) with arms over each other's shoulders, and sing to each other. I'm not sure I have experienced such a moving musical experience. John even closed his eyes to prevent his tears from falling... or it might have been because he didn't want to catch Jen's eye. It is a fact universally acknowledged that during a Rudsambee warmup one should never never ever no never catch Jen's eye. It is a dangerous thing and generally you, and she, end up snorting.
As promised we began the tough bit of Cloudburst tonight. Yes, that's right, the bit that splits into fifteen parts (for less than one bar , mind you)and involves us clicking, clapping and slapping our thighs. The image in your minds must be a keeper. Anyways, we did it all rather well actually and managed to work out what when to click and when to clap - and even when to sing a couple of notes! Now, I lost it for a bit in the middle there because Anne and Maestro Boy decided to have an intricate conversation about, well, musical things. As confessed last week I am the one who failed my first round of Grade 5 music theory so don't ask me what they were talking about, they may as well have been speaking Arabic backwards... oh hold it, that's how it always works. So apparently we are performing antiphonal clicks and the scale before the crazy click sequence is in Friesian mode. Hold it, it might not have have been Friesian come to think of it... it may well be that cow image again. Anyways, ask Maestro Boy for the accurate terminology. [Chris says: Phrygian, dear blogstress.]
We finished with a quick run through the Debussy and then (as is customary) a little bit of Tormis. It was Kanarbik tonight (the one where A-L sings a top Z or something; I tickled her mid-squeal tonight and, like a true professional, the note didn't even quiver) and we spent a good long time trying to get the chords tuned well. We then sang it through, ending up in great hilarity as the basses came in sounding like the cows of A-L's warmup. Granted it is a very low note but honestly, how funny was it!? Suffice to say we didn't hit the final chords through our laughter!
Anyways, on that note I only have a celebratory cheer for Robin and Elaine who, combined, are aged 90 this week. Blimey! I'll leave it to you to decide which one is thirty and which is sixty (or any other combination)! On the way home Rach and I discussed the merits of Genesis and Simon and Garfunkel - a couple of musical recommendations for you there. Oh, and we talked about rock stars who cut their hair and both decided that Dave Gilmour improves with age. Goodness, that's his second mention in as many weeks.
Have a fabulous week. This week I will mostly be getting excited about heading to the capital to see my favourite rockers' gig. Hope you have an equally thrilling (I mean that in all sincerity - I've just realised that generally we only use the word thrilling in a sarcastic manner) week. Stay out of the way of any rampaging cows. Or Basses. They sound similar so may be mistaken for one another in fields...
CSW
Friday, 6 February 2009
"Lower and meatier"
Not tonight's dinner, blog fans but an apt description of Rudsambee's bass section (from Maestro Boy no less and he should know being an all-round musical genius and all). Firstly, gargantuan apologies for the lateness of the post folks. Life has been beyond chaotic and last night (when I should have been coming up with my usual mix of enlightening reportage and humourous quips) I fell asleep on my sofa after a falafel dinner while listening to Dave Gilmour's dulcet tones. Hereby ends my excuse.
So back to Wednesday night, then. Rach led our warm up which was a very jolly affair and found us balancing our folders on our heads (I've lost mine currently so I had to borrow one from ex libris Wexler) while standing on one leg and singing My Bonny Lies Over the Ocean. Yes, it would only happen in Rudsambee. I am quite sure the King's Singers don't begin their rehearsal times in such a manner.
We spent much time on the Debussy this evening, all crammed round the piano. It is actually beginning to sound like a song (I know - unbelievable, huh!), as long as we count! We then moved on (as is our wont at present) to Cloudburst. This is fast turning into my highlight of the week (sorry this blog is moving slowly tonight; I am struggling to type due to sore guitar fingers. You know, played it 'til my fingers bled back in the summer of '69). A-L and I worked out that my joy in choir is directly proportional to the amount of Eric Whitacre we sing. This piece is beginning to sound great. And tonight we reached that bit we've all been waiting for - the 7 sopranos. As mentioned last week (week before, week before that... oh I don't know, they all just merge together at present) there is a point in this piece when the sopranos have to split into seven. Goodness, is the world of musical creativity ready for such a vocal experiment. Well, I am just glad I'm not singing the top line. A-L counted the amount of different notes in one chord at this point in the piece - 15! Yes, 15 blog fans. Now that is... well... it's a lot.
That's it for tonight ladies and gents. My left hand index finger is still aching. Hope everyone has a jolly weekend. We'll see you next week.
CSW
So back to Wednesday night, then. Rach led our warm up which was a very jolly affair and found us balancing our folders on our heads (I've lost mine currently so I had to borrow one from ex libris Wexler) while standing on one leg and singing My Bonny Lies Over the Ocean. Yes, it would only happen in Rudsambee. I am quite sure the King's Singers don't begin their rehearsal times in such a manner.
We spent much time on the Debussy this evening, all crammed round the piano. It is actually beginning to sound like a song (I know - unbelievable, huh!), as long as we count! We then moved on (as is our wont at present) to Cloudburst. This is fast turning into my highlight of the week (sorry this blog is moving slowly tonight; I am struggling to type due to sore guitar fingers. You know, played it 'til my fingers bled back in the summer of '69). A-L and I worked out that my joy in choir is directly proportional to the amount of Eric Whitacre we sing. This piece is beginning to sound great. And tonight we reached that bit we've all been waiting for - the 7 sopranos. As mentioned last week (week before, week before that... oh I don't know, they all just merge together at present) there is a point in this piece when the sopranos have to split into seven. Goodness, is the world of musical creativity ready for such a vocal experiment. Well, I am just glad I'm not singing the top line. A-L counted the amount of different notes in one chord at this point in the piece - 15! Yes, 15 blog fans. Now that is... well... it's a lot.
That's it for tonight ladies and gents. My left hand index finger is still aching. Hope everyone has a jolly weekend. We'll see you next week.
CSW
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