Thursday 31 December 2009

End of an era

Goodness knows what we'll do without our Diva.

Claire collage


Claire joined us in 2005, narrowly avoiding a photo op after Kay's wedding (John's editing skills out in force there!). A trip to sunny Arran and AnnaLauren's rather exciting wedding reception sped by and then Christmas was upon us once again.

2006 was one of Rudsambee's busiest years: Rachael's wedding (where they seemed to book a stand-up comedian rather than a priest) and a trip to Rosslyn in April; May saw us in the Portrait Gallery and then off up north for a wee tour of the Highlands; in July we sang at a stranger's wedding (not only will we sing into a bucket for money, we will even to weddings), and then in September disaster struck. Back when 'Diva' was a term we only used in jest, our proto-blogstress complained of odd chest pains one evening and left rehearsal early. This turned out to be a blood clot in her lung which had her in hospital while they beat her up with drugs and then left her unable to sing for a while. Any excuse...

In order to keep her amused some Rudsamblets decided to make a wee newsletter, which got a little bit out of hand:




Then after a concert in aid of Bethany, having successfully coerced the choir into doing the whole second half of a concert without music, Frances - who had been Musical Director for as long as she cared to remember - announced that she would be abandoning us stepping down gracefully after Christmas. Which led to another mock newsletter:




In the meantime she managed to coach us through a concert in Cockermouth with Piping Hot, a gig at the Biggar Festival and five(!) Christmas concerts - even managing two in one day!

2007 saw a change of leadership, with Maestro Boy taking the poisoned chalice helm and breaking with the matriarchal line. With the loss of Frances' Alto voice to the budding Moaning Wild Myrtles and Christina's Soprano to a dodgy inner ear, the new captain brought in Claire2 and Helen to fill the spaces. Helen became wonderfully dual-purpose as her studies gave her the know-how and equipment to record and master our next CD, what are they doing?.

The poisoned chalice


Mr Singleton's first public gig as Director, in the Portrait Gallery, saw a demand for more encores than we had ready - leading to a now notorious "hard cheese" remark to the audience. A quick social visit from some friendly Norwegians and a short set at the French Institute passed without trouble before the new Director's mettle was further tested by Svatobor visiting us from the Czech Republic; 40ish visitors being entertained and fed by the choir for three days, ending with a joint concert in the Canongate Kirk. It was at this concert that we attempted Ernst Toch's Geographical Fugue which went better than might be expected but was perhaps a little too hair-raising to bear up under many performances.

The Wexlers, host to our noise and rabble and two of the oldest longest-serving members, celebrates a retirement, a birthday and an anniversary; the boss managed to lead us in a few songs despite beign more than a little tipsy. Rudsambee's first full concert under new leadership was in Whithorn, followed soon after by a Scottish-songs-only concert in Juniper Green! Christmas came as a welcome respite, even when we were pitted againt proper celebs in Glasgow Cathedral (where Maestro Boy and his cohorts had difficulty keeping straight faces during cries of "GABRIEL!").

2008 came around and Claire2 took her mandatory Clare-in-Hospital break, leading to another newsletter!




And of course, 2008 also saw the arrival of Relative Pitch, which our dear Diva has meticulously updated week by week to keep the fans (hello? Anyone out there?) entertained with our antics - so there's not much to be said that hasn't already been blogged with more hysteria...

BAI DIVA!

2 comments:

Claire said...

Hey, missing the Rudsambeelets already! Thanks for the wee historical run down Christopher. Happy New Year to Rudsambeelets and Rudsambee fans. See you at the concert in the Spring hopefully - I'll be the one crying (with joy and emotion, not horror I hasten to add) into my signed copy of 'What Are They Doing?'
CSW

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