Hurry, hurry, rush, rush

Hello, mes amies – I’m off to Munich in the morning and to the Trav tonight so have to get this done NOW. Oh, the pressure! I have a French tiler in the kitchen, an assortment of costume-designing young ladies in one daughter’s bedroom, sewing and chatting (mostly chatting, I imagine) and demanding occasional input from expert seamstress, me - (actually all I’ve done is trundle out to buy plastic-covered steel boning and fail dismally to come up with an answer as to the whereabouts of the sewing-machine zipper foot); another daughter upstairs expecting ideas for her next craft-spot appearance on"‘The Hour" (STV!!) and then to spend time with her mother (disappointed in the second instance if not the first – which was a bit dodgy originality-wise but better than nothing), a bag to pack and this to write. Never tell me my life is empty... or that my sentences make sense.

So, to last night. A very good rehearsal. Small group once again too small – this is becoming repetitive. Ollie is going to use the time to do note-bashing on our new pieces instead until things look up a bit. This will be very useful but not as much fun. Maybe, eventually, enough people will start appearing early and we will be able to embark on a little something extra.

When I arrived there were already a few hardy and dedicated folk trilling away at the new Tormis piece – St. John’s Steed, if you remember. Once I had worked out where in the music they were and then worked out what my note was supposed to be (I was the only Alto again so it took a while!) I joined in and was pleased with how much I remembered. I have realised there is something to be said sometimes for being less than brilliant at the old music theory (and practice, let’s be honest) because the fact that the bar lines are all wonky and bar 40 for the women is not bar 40 for the men worries me not at all; whereas Anne – who is an excellent musician – was horribly confused by such inconsistencies (though she seemed to have come to terms with the madness by the end of the evening). We spent quite a long time on this once everyone had gathered and all to good purpose as it was really beginning to sound almost good. There is one point – well, the end, actually – where the Altos have a good deep swoop down (to an F, or something; I just sing the notes once we get below a G – don’t expect me to recognise them. The violin doesn’t go any lower than that so neither does my knowledge) and Christopher gave me such a look at that moment whilst guffawing loudly and suggested that my voice had just broken. I’m not sure if he meant as in adolescent boy or shattered crockery but he had to add – hurriedly – that he’d only commented because he was impressed. Yeah, right.

Galloping on, we began working on Hide and Seek, well, Sang it a bit and then separated to look at it more specifically. Half of us know this one really well and the others not at all so it is important to make sure that the old’uns are not singing what they think is right but isn’t and the newbies have a chance to learn it properly from the beginning. Heather is thoroughly depressed by it. Thinks it the most miserable thing! I can see why. And it’s very low and manly in places which may be depressing her spirits further. But I like it. That may be because I’m one of the manly women. And even I find it rather growly, broken voice and all.

I took some notes during this song and the next in order to enliven the blog as I felt my efforts last week were a little dull to say the least. Unfortunately I left my music and, therefore, my notes at John and Susan’s last night so they’ll be no jollying this up unless I can remember some of the jolly things that were said and done. Which I can’t. Oops.

I’ve just been asked to advise on bullet-holes in clothing and recipes for bloodstains. Had you any idea my knowledge spans so many diverse and peculiar matters? I gave my opinion and prodded various sharp instruments through a piece of material in order to demonstrate likely techniques to achieve a realistic result but as I have absolutely no first-hand experience of bullet-holes this may have been worse than useless. And anyway, it seems to me, there are as many different bullet-holes as there are types of bullet and range of shot, are there not? And then what about shotgun pellets?????

Lastly we reminded ourselves of a very small part of Leonardo during which our Jenny became very dramatic indeed on the word "siren" (as in sea nymph not fire engine) and then we finished – early, I think, but we had worked hard. We women even harder than the men because we got to grips with things faster than they did and, in our spare time while we waited (and waited) for them, started working on the beginning of Leonardo which, up to now, the Boy Wonder has been avoiding. We know why!

A word in praise of Harriet who was the only Soprano1 present all evening and did a great job in very trying circumstances, with extremely tricksy music which would have had many an older Rudsambeeite in all sorts of a mess.

Some discussion as to the viability of going to Poland when numbers available and willing to do so are rather lower than would be ideal. Personally I don’t see the point of going if there are only half of us there to sing as we couldn’t do the usual repertoire and this would be totally unrepresentative of the choir as it is now and probably a huge disappointment for the Poles who would be expecting something akin to what they’ve heard on the CD we sent them. Still, we’ll see. It would be a shame to miss the opportunity but maybe we should leave it for another time when more people are willing to commit to it.

Never short of an opinion, am I?

Time to stop. Will attempt to make notes and bring them home next week – promise.

Have a good weekend. Think of me in freezing, snowy Munich. Brrrrr….