Rudsambee on their travels again...

Apologies for a quiet week and a bit for Relative Pitch. I have been sunning myself in the heat of Dubai - tough life, eh? In suitable showbiz fashion as you have come to expect of your resident blog queen I flew back just in time for Saturday's concert and swanned in after the first rehearsal.

And so we have returned from visiting our friends of Soon Amore in the beautiful city of York. Thanks to all the groupies who followed us and to Soon Amore and their crowd for welcoming us so warmly. What to tell you... well, the rehearsals all went well and 5.45 saw us relaxing on the steps of our venue, the lovely chapel in York Cemetery, eating amazing hummus, fruit, chocolate cake etc. etc. etc. - a proper picnic was laid on by the good folks of Soon Amore.

In fact so good that Maestro Boy began our set with a warning to the front couple of rows to beware of flying cake - eating so much delicious grub prior to a performance in never a wise idea and a number of Rudsambee-lets felt that a lie down rather than a sing was in order. Our half went well and Maestro Boy's eyebrows looked suitably pleased. Then it was Soon Amore's turn and I think we were particularly struck by the water set (a couple of really nice modern pieces included in this) and their version of Dindirin which we all agreed, being in the original Spanish, was better than ours. We concluded with a jolly encore, with both choirs singing different versions of the Irish Blessing. Rather scarily Soon Amore's conductor invited the Rudsambee-lets to join with them in their version. So we ended the concert by sight-singing a piece of music that none of us had even ever heard before. As Robin said "It was a little like something that happens in a pre-concert nightmare" except that generally you have forgotten to put on any clothes in those dreams. We were, I am happy to report, all fully covered.

So a good trip all in all. Thanks again to everyone who made it happen. I had a jolly time driving a little boat on the Ouse on Sunday. What larks!

More Relative Pitch on Thursday, post-rehearsal

CSW

While the cat's away...

Have you ever wondered what might happen to the sweet Rudsambee-lets if both Maestro Boy and Esteemed Leader Anne went away on their jolly holidays? Well last night this was our lot. King Editor valiantly led us while jazz man Sebastian beat the rhythms out. However, the Rudsambee-lets were for some reason on our worst behaviour and I felt both our supply teacher leaders were remarkably patient with us. So hilarity was the name of the game, started by the aforementioned jazz man who showed us some jolly beats that meant fervently beating our chests. Honestly some of our number have so little rhythm! Douglas' face was so confused that by the end of the ditty I was almost crying with laughter.

We rehearsed quite a bit of Tormis which sounded dreadful at first... and still sounded dreadful at the end - I joke, I joke! Tormis is a little like Marmite (other yeast-based spreads available), and I do not like Marmite very much. Despite the general misbehaviour (I would like to blame A-L for much of this naughtiness - don't be taken in by her innocent facade. She completely cracks me up!) we did manage to sing through Sleep which we remembered quite well, and Dark Eyed Sailor which sounded a little scary the first time through (the ladies have a tendency to shout the line "Oh welcome William, I've lands and gold" - in fact if someone welcomed me back from the dead in such a manner I might well have dived straight back into the ocean) but less scary with dynamics in the second.

We also sang Tourdion which is a terrific little piece. Once we'd worked out the general logistics of this, it sounded pretty good. Very quick! The speed continued with Jede Sedlak which we can now rattle out without folders at a tremendous tempo.

So how best to conclude a night of increasing mirth? Well, it began with A-L's mime of 'playing a very small keyboard'. Unfortunately it looked like she was pretending to be a small rodent. This led to one of the funniest and most ridiculous conversations I have embarked upon for some considerable time. Robin (who is, as we all know, going to train to be a teacher and, judging by his linguistic knowledge, will single-handedly reform our ailing education system) referred to such an action as murine e.g. like a mouse. Mrs Wexler did her best Susy Dent impression with dictionary open and ready to discover other animal-themed descriptive words, for example 'bovine', 'avine', 'feline' (for a full list check out this magnificent link - http://www.dnafrequencies.com/dp/terms.shtml). However, the Rudsambee-lets, as they are, decided that this could be pushed a little further and came up with 'beeline', 'borderline', 'conga line', 'pantyline', 'Serpentine', 'clothesline', 'Stenna line' and, my current favourite, 'fraulein'. Goodness how we laughed - thanks to Robin, Rach, A-L, and Susan for contributing to this one. Any others, please do add them via the comment function.

And on that ridiculous note I bid you farewell. Despite the general merriment that took over this evening's proceedings we will be ready for York in a week and a bit - promise!

CSW

The week after the...erm...weekend before

Universally acknowledged is the fact that the week after a concert (especially one as spiffing as Saturday night), Rudsambee-lets tend to go a little wild and become ever more unmanageable for ol' Maestro Boy, those who attend anyway. Last night was no exception. I will put the general chaos partly down to learning a new little ditty which is entitled Don't it make my brown eyes blue. In A-L's southern American drawl it sounded like a throwback to an Arthur Miller play and her suggestion of a voiceover during the final chorus ("I'm so blue... what can I do... without you?" etc. etc. etc. ad nauseum) was greeted with great enthusiasm. This, btw, is a song beloved of our York friends who we will be visiting in a matter of weeks. Now I am of the opinion that jazz (especially jazz with a touch of swing and a smattering of blues) causes perfectly respectable choral groups to regress into hysterical madness. Once again I was proved entirely correct. It is like a disease.

In fact, after the delights of the weekend, we challenged ourselves to two new pieces last night with a lulluby by Gorecki as well(haven't worked out how to correctly pronounce his name yet - leave it with me). While we are, in true Rudsambee fashion, singing this song in Polish, we took a quick peek at the translation which roughly seems to read, "Go to bed and grow up". This sentence of course could have many meanings depending on whether it is sung by a kindly mother looking fondly at her sweet child and thinking of the future when he will be a strong man or by a cross mother sick of her child's endless whining for the latest Wii game. Maestro Boy's recital sounded remarkably like the latter.

This next item will cause a shock wave to ripple, nay, tsunami (can that word be used as a verb - I don't care, I'm the Lord of the grammatical rules round here) around the Music Department of the University of Edinburgh. We took a quick look at Wade in the Water last night. We attempted this one before but consigned it to the proverbial Rudsambee waste paper bin. Maestro Boy (a man with a first class degree in music no less) looked at the sheet music asfresh and bemoaned the lack of variety for the poor ol' basses who "only get to sing a E except for one C near the end". We all agreed that this was a poor show indeed and reflected the generally dull nature of this piece (unless Eva Cassidy sings it in which case I rather like it). That is until Editor King (who also, as it happens, has a perceptive eye) pointed out that Maestro Boy was reading the percussion line. University degrees dumbing down? I think this proves it beyond any doubt.

Finally we listened to Helen's recording of Cloudburst from the triumph of Saturday night. Despite a couple of moments where we had a collective cringe, it really sounded good. What a great night that was! Speaking of the concert, thanks again to all those who came. Loads of money (I really mean loads of money) was raised for a great cause so cheers for putting your hand in your pockets. Claire 2's Lenny Henry/Comic Relief/ensure there are some 'sad footage' close ups and some jolly 'we're here to help' aftershots-esque speech seemed to work wonders (sorry about that sentence, try it again...). Jen wondered if she could have a recording so she could wander round Tesco's with a begging bowl.

And with that I must get back to a perculiar play by Louis MacNeice. Bet you wish you were me.

CSW

ps If you feel the need to pay this much for a copy, get in touch and we can almost certainly undercut the seller.

The concert lowdown

Evening all, well I am safely tucked up in my sweats with a Diet Coke and some proggy Genesis for company to give you the lowdown on tonight's concert.

Well, what can I say? What a great experience! Tonight was one of the best concerts I have ever had the pleasure to be involved with. Everyone was on fire. Maestro Boy led us with more than his usual brilliance and we even watched him on occasions and (cor blimey!) once or twice followed his lead! So the concert contained a bit of jolly Tormis (Anne is her introduction to Lulling said that we had all come to love Tormis... I think some might beg to differ!), some of our old friends Lauridsen and Betinis (Envoi was the usual stressful, clinging-on experience for the Sop2s but I think we nailed it. Kind of), a bit of clashy Part, a touch of Vaughan Williams, Jede Sedlak (minus folders!), some French fun (Mirren, you'll be pleased to know that our pronunciation was largely excellent comprehensible not terrible), Hide and Seek, Green Fir Forest (which, much to our collective surprise came off quite well) and a great big helping of Eric Whitacre.

In fact we did two of our Whitacre numbers this evening. We took another crack at Five Hebrew Love Songs which was wonderful (we even got a clap after the second movement!). I think I can say that we universally love this piece of music; cheers to Aaron for playing violin for us again. Then of course came the piece de resistance Cloudburst!. Now, anyone who has been following this blog since the start (it's been a year now, folks!) will know that this piece has had a seriously long gestation period. But man, tonight it all came together. We were joined by some great percussionists, a marvellous pianist, the fabulous Holy Trinity Handbell group from Haddington and, you will be pleased to hear if you have followed our percussion saga over the past few weeks, an intact bass drum and a very large piece of wobbling metal than sounded nothing like dear ol' Rolf. When we got to the climax of the storm it really felt like the roof of the Reid Hall might just lift right off its foundations. An incredible, joyful night. Thanks to all the musicians who made it happen. We couldn't have done it without you - or at least the stormy bits would have sounded decidedly less, erm, stormy.

My introduction highlight of the night was definitely from Monsieur Wexler who always does a funny intro (although not always purposefully so). Tonight's was no exception as he introduced The Spring Time of the Year by saying that Vaughan Williams liked the tune of this one but found the lyrics a bit dull... all 8 or so verses! So VW restricted himself to two verses of the, and I quote, "... fairly predictable nautical romance". Ah, John sure has a way of putting things.

So hopefully we raised a pretty packet for the kids of the Balkans to learn about friendship and fun through the medium of music [Around £1,000 it would seem]. Here's also hoping that Editor King will have some piccies for us over the coming days [Oh, okay then] (and perhaps even a wee video [you'll have to wait until we sync it up to the good quality audio; if you're really keen to hear it then have a browse on YouTube]) so keep checking back to Relative Pitch for that.

I'm off to make a cup of tea and bask in the joy that was Rudsambee and friends at Reid Hall. Thanks if you came and supported us tonight - the audience were very encouraging and we even received a box of Millionaire's shortbread from two of our biggest fans. Trust me, you know you've made it when you start receiving gifts from your groupies - especially eatables!

See you Wednesday

CSW

Two days to go before the storm unleashes its fury...

Good afternoon folks and folkesses. Pleasure to have you aboard. The sun has broken through and I have recently finished a very perculiar play so it is time to get on with writing this week's post.

Last night began in sillier-than-usual fashion if you would believe it with a Claire 2-led summer-themed warm-up (hmmm...many hyphens required for that sentence to make any grammatical sense!). It concluded, as may have been expected, with a jolly rendition of 'I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside' gradually moving up a semitone each phrase - delightful. Less delightful was our humming. Often in a warm-up the leader will ask us to pick any note we like and hum on said note until our heads feel all buzzy (bone fide musical terminology). It warms the old lips up. Apparently when Claire 2 does this exercise with actors they harmonious; we however, tend to choose a note and resolutely stick to it. Cue some truly dreadful harmonics (or non-harmonics as the case may be...discords, that's the word I'm fumbling for). Worst culprit last night was, you may be surprised to hear, our resident perfect-pitch pianist Ann who proceeded to create a opera-style chord sequence. Jenny joined in and, as you can probably ascertain by this stage, the whole thing degenerated from there.

Fortunately, when it comes to humming in actual pieces of music we do fare better, which is a good job as we have quite a bit of humming to do this concert. Maestro Boy pointed to whenever 'we get the bongs'. This may sound a little perculiar but there are many 'bongs' in the 'Hebrew Love Songs'. 'Getting the bongs' btw is not a euphemism...for anything...before you start.

Maestro Boy, in his pastoral capacity, asked us if there was any music we were scared of (not generally I hasten to add...just for Saturday night - Mr Blobby's ill-feted venture into the musical world is scary but has no relevance at this point...other than providing an opportunity for Editor King to add a great link). Helen responded will the answer 'None, we are fearless'. It is btw becoming a regular slot in the blog - Helen's words of wisdom. It is not because she extrapolates excessive amounts of wisdom (though she may) but because I generally sit next to her through rehearsals so get to enjoy her asides which are numerous and hilarious in equal measure.

It was a 'Cloudburst' free night (though subsequently a number of emails have gone round about the imagery in 'Cloudburst' and, let me tell you, we are a seriously poetic bunch - in fact, perusing Rudsambee emails is a little like reading the Romanticist correspondence of Wordsworth and Coleridge at present) but we crashed on with number of other pieces and are even coping with the joys of Chinese in 'Green Fir Forest'. We then moved on to the Nokia ringtone which Sebastian (our resident cellist and jazz fiend) said was virtually impossible to sing. I concur...how perculiar. Just to confirm, we are not singing the Nokia ringtone on Saturday night though if any budding composer out there fancies putting it in four parts and adding some Estonian lyrics, then we'll give it a go. We are nothing if not open to suggestions.

So we await Saturday night with our usual heady mix of fear, excitement, anticipation and last minute Czech-learning. Hopefully we'll see you all there.

CSW