Another Sop Bites the Dust

Lord a’ mercy, jus’ what is we doin’ wrong? Now Alison is bidding us farewell and quite soon, too. She is going to sing with us at the Wigtown Book Festival and then... off into the sunset! So, ten a penny as sopranos are, we are obliged to search for another as well as a tenor or two (maybe three to be on the safe side; they’re slippery creatures and can’t be trusted to stay around for more than a month or two – unless they’re Chris or Douglas who have to stay because no one else would have them) and a bass. Lawks! Thank goodness we have an open-rehearsal-come-and-sing-with-us(-please-please-please) session coming up. My idea, I’ll have you know (and I shall happily take all credit for it until no one turns up and we are left to entertain only ourselves). The plan is to have lots of fun, but not so much that we scare prospective members off. Jenny is banned. Sebastian is on the reserve list and Christopher is going to be obliged to have normal hair and to cover his legs.

Last night was a lot of fun again – more work on Desh. We had to recap on the tabla boing-ing for those who weren’t there last week. It has to be said that the basses are really rather good at this. Try as we all might the effect is not quite the same in the upper registers – though it’s not bad and the effect is always interesting if not arresting, as it is with the rumblers. To add to the general fun and merriment we played at being sitars, too, this week. This involved attempting to get whistle-y sort of harmonies into the voice whilst humming – that open mouthed humming which has people looking as if they’ve lost their last marble [otherwise known as overtone singing]. It is most extraordinarily difficult but apparently there are people in the world who can drone away on one note while getting their whistle to play a proper tune on top. All I managed was nearly to asphyxiate myself. I think I misinterpreted Ollie’s instructions. When he said to close up the nose by sealing the top of the mouth off with the tongue I managed to seal up the whole lot so no air at all was getting either in or out. No harmonies for me but very pretty stars before my eyes and a momentary glimpse of heaven. I shall practise in the shower as instructed – as long as I’m alone in the house. Ah, but then who will rescue me when I pass out? This question arose before, if you remember. Last time it had to do with holding loooooong notes. Did you ever imagine that singing was such a dangerous, life-threatening exercise? Alas! Perhaps, ere long, another alto will be required as well.

The only other things we did were Aurora Rutilat – an old piece being revived for Wigtown and very lovely it is too - and Mary’s Song, ditto, in which Jenny gets to sing a beautiful solo in the first verse. (Only the first verse. Natalie and Heather, it seemed, were all for letting her sing every verse solo but, really, she needs to be kept in her place.) We are attempting to be poetic for the Book Festival, as is fitting you will agree.

So – c’est tout. I’m sure, as usual, I have missed out the best bits [such as referring to certain people as being foghorn-like]. Some of that is done on purpose as too much bean-spilling would have Rudsambee down to me and those of us who are rather too free with the insults – actually, that is nearly everyone so no worries there then – but harmony is essential in a choir, is it not? And who am I to go and spoil it???

Laters!