The long dark rehearsal of the soul

Totally lacking in inspiration today, I’m afraid, so I feel it is only fair to warn you that the following may be extremely boring. Only carry on reading if you really have nothing better to do with your time. A great gaping hole in your social calendar or a desperate need to prove yourself the world’s greatest procrastinator are the only excuses I’ll allow for further perusal of today’s meagre offering. Go and do something enjoyable – or at the very least, useful. Shoo.

On Wednesday the committee had a meeting before we started singing so there was no extra-rehearsal-instead-of-small-group. Because of this I arrived about fifteen minutes late which is inexcusable but I did say, didn’t I, in a previous edition, that the more time I have once I get home before I have to go out again the less likely I am to leave punctually? Quite how I managed to be fifteen minutes behind I have no idea, but I was. Luckily I wasn’t the only one and Tamsin – who joined us last week for the first time – arrived only seconds before me. I really don’t remember if anyone was even later but I doubt it.

While we’re on the subject of last week, my reason for not blogging was that this poor old machine was in hospital, riddled with viruses. It has been cured as far as possible but what the long term prognosis is I have no idea. As it has come back so much better but, for some reason, blocking my internet access – only mine, I think, the elder daughter (only other user at present) seems to be able to manage – I don’t know if Jenny or Chris acted as temporary blogger in my absence (about which anybody who would listen to me last Wednesday was informed in advance) so I may tell you things you already know. I will endeavour to stick solely to this week’s news in order to avoid repetition – an absolute must if I want to avoid boring to utter distraction any foolish- I mean loyal - reader who has ventured this far.

I arrived to find work in progress on a new piece: O Nata Lux de Lumine by Thomas Tallis. We have sung these words to a different tune. One by whom? For the moment it escapes me (or, anyway, I feel less than confident about typing the name that springs to mind and very much less willing to take the time to go and look it up) but I know that Christopher will insert the correct information in his squarey brackets before he posts this for me, won’t you Mr Scott? [that would be Morten Lauridsen's O Nata Lux] Ta muchly. For this Jenny and I have to sing Tenor 1 which is fine except that the Tenor line is written, of course, an octave up from where the actual notes are in the treble clef and I don’t need to tell you what that does to my brain even if it shouldn’t. However, it’s not too difficult a piece to get to grips with (once the eyes uncrossed).

Onto Quant j’ai ouy le tabourin by M. Debussy (old French, not incompetence) which is all about hearing a drum and therefore full of drum-y sounds, my favourite being the nasal ‘lon, lon, lon, lon’ which the T1s (yep, me again, with attendant confusion, as above) get to sing in bars 13, 14 and 15. I feel pretty confident I know what I’m doing in this one though occasionally forgetting to sing a bouche fermée (accents please, Chris [ok]) as instructed but I’m not the only one. There’s a lot of la-la-la-la-ing in this as there is in Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine. I think I mentioned before how strangely all this affects one’s tongue...

Some light relief in the form of St John’s Steed. (When Ollie suggested we try “the Tormis” Jenny said, “What, again?” and then “Are we singing another one then?” and then “Oh, no. That was Tallis.” How such confusion could occur is a matter for Mrs Fardell to explain because it is way beyond me. Actually, no it’s not really, is it? The Ts to start, the Ss at the end, the two syllables... ignore the music and words and then no wonder.) We sang this really well. What fun it is. So much so that I think everyone laughed out loud at the end. So as "not to get complacent" we did go over a few bars here and there where there was room for improvement. There’s always room for improvement.

On to Leonardo and we actually started at the beginning AND sang the tricky bit, bars 92-115, which the Boy Wonder has been avoiding for weeks. I found both these easier than the end where I’m still all at sea. There is little solo in bar 7 which requires someone (a Soprano) with a strong voice to sing ‘ma-a-a-a-a-a-a-chine’ in a bleating sort of fashion above everyone else singing normally. AnnaLauren was the obvious choice. Ollie encouraged her to sing like "a Texan sheep" and so she did. And once she stops feeling utterly ridiculous and really goes for it (which she will) the effect will be stunning - very whirr-y, wind in the ailerons; if, indeed, Leo had such things on his craft. I’m sure he must have.

Imagine if you haven’t read this far as per instruction and I have wasted time trying to impress you with my use of technical terminology.

We spent quite a lot of time on this piece. It was hard work. When, at about 9.15, Ollie asked what the time was a rather pie-eyed Robin took a deep breath and, having answered truthfully, admitted that he had “..almost considered lying”. Almost. Bless. What an honourable chappie, he is to be sure.

Voila. C’est tout. Things to do (shopping), places to go (Waitrose), people to see (husband home from Germany) (or check-out personage) (or both, I suppose).

‘Til next week.

xx