Water, water everywhere

We did have fun with the aitch-two-oh this week. Quite who was responsible for the first spillage I can’t say but someone got wet – Heather? – as did the table and a fair bit of floor carpet (where else does one have carpet, by the way? Have often wondered. Answers on a postcard, please). I’ll wager Mrs Fardell was the culprit. Susan, Heather and Jenny all set-to to clear up the mess amidst great merriment. I have even less idea of what occurred as people were preparing to leave at the end of the evening because, as usual, I had my back to the action but it involved the same suspect – I mean, suspects. Susan was transporting a glass of water kitchenwards when someone (Mrs F perhaps?) knocked her about a bit (I think) and, yet again, the wet stuff hit the floor. Even greater hilarity ensued – and it appears that everyone except me had their eyes on the action because everyone except moi was laughing fit to burst. Did ever a blogetteer feel so incompetent? (Yes, every week. Every single week). After the first incident Susan was heard to say, “At least it wasn’t the glass of wine I threw over Dick Grindley a few days ago,” (hard to see how it could have been that particular glass of wine, it being soaked into Mr Dick’s trousers...) – red wine, of course, had to be, didn’t it? – which began a conversation about getting red wine out of whatever it’s been spilled on and the choice of cleansing method the Grindley’s may have resorted to; sucking it out was Jen’s suggestion, grubby girl. You may be wondering what was happening on the singing front while all this was going on... not much, as far as the sops and altos were concerned, obviously. The boys may have been practising something or other but I don’t think so.

All in all it was rather a laid back but extremely productive rehearsal. We were really very short of men – only two of each flavour - and there were a couple of sops missing, too (but here we had the pleasure of the company - and voice - of Rachael’s sister, Abbie, to make up for one of them at least) – so we started nothing new but revisited a fair number of last year’s Christmas pieces: Nyathi Onyuol, Jajang, Amuworo, Hey, Hey, Lily (aka Hej, Hej Lelija; Polish – in which shiny language we will be singing it this year), Immanuel oss I natt, Nu Tandas and Det hev ei rose sprunge. Not bad for an evening’s work, eh? Quite some time was spent on the Polish pronunciation with which our extraordinarily erudite and versatile Lord and Master is now very familiar, having become pretty much fluent in French and so moved on to the languages of Eastern Europe. Now, I know how a good deal of it works having read a book once which had bits of Polish in it and a helpful little page of tips on how various letters/combinations of letters should be pronounced so when Ol said, “How do you think the l with a line through it should sound?” I could answer ‘w’ and cz, ‘tch’ and sz, ‘sh’ etc (these are the easy ones) but this was of no help at all when it came to putting the words to the music – in spite of the fact that I was perfectly familiar with the music already. Oh, the strugglings of an ancient brain. And an ancient brain struggling with the onset of a cold-in-the-head, too. And, yet again, the absence of spectacles (except for the spilling of water tee hee)/bad light combination which flaws me every week. You’d think I’d learn.

But you see how hard it is.

At the end of the evening Heather announced that she had had a request for a sea-shanty singing choir to perform at a wedding in June and asked would we be at all interested? The short answer appeared to be ‘no’. The rather longer one was to do with where we would be singing, when, would anyone be listening or would we be singing against chat and the tinkling of glass (really, really hard work and no fun at all), would we have time to learn sea-shanty-type things to sing (Jenny was well away, jigging and climbing the rigging – she was the only one who looked at all keen but her enthusiasm could have made up for the rest of us, no problem) and other such concerns. Heather looked somewhat crushed at what was, to be sure, an astonishingly negative reaction but, as it is her job now to pass on these requests, she should beware of taking personally adverse responses of this nature. There’s no telling what will catch the imagination of Rudsambeeites and if she becomes too selective we might miss the opportunity to warble somewhere really silly in the future.

Alors, mes leetle cabbages, I have done. Hubby is home – has been here since last Saturday – and, what with one thing and another, I’ve hardly seen him so I shall go and make him some luncheon. See you next week.

Hello, Goodbye.

(Actually the other way round but that’s not a song title

(As far as I know))

OK, I’m sorry my optimism was so misplaced the week before last but I don’t suppose you were fooled for a minute, were you?

And haven’t I just been a busy little bee today?  Mostly, it has to be confessed, doing things I should have done yesterday and couldn’t be bothered to, but these ‘things’ involved housework of various complexions and, really, can you blame me for procrastinating?   It has been like Downton Abbey round here, too, let me tell you.  My vacuum cleaner is broken or on strike or something – no suction at all – so this-morning I was to be witnessed on hands and knees cleaning the stair carpet with a dustpan and brush and then attacking the sitting-room carpet (BIG room, BIG carpet) with my sweeping brush, stirring up more dust than I was removing.  Which reminds me... dusting.  Forgot. Still to be done.  Darn.  Wouldn’t last long at the Abbey, would I?  On the streets I’d be, quick sharp and, to be honest, at my age I wouldn’t have much luck there, either.

Just as well it’s 2011 and I am who I am.  Even if I’d rather be dressing like Lady Mary.  (I don’t even watch the programme and I know all about it.  Is this what they term ‘osmosis’?)

To Wednesday evening and not before time you will say.  But I do like a chat.

It was all very relaxed.  Susan was away and so there was no one there to chivvy us into singing.  Firstly we had a chat (which I do like) and then Ollie talked us through the programme for the Poetry Library which at first glance made me feel as if we should warn away people who are inclined to snore when napping – HOWEVER.... after studying it more closely I noticed items such as Desh and Fog Elna Khel on the menu and there’s nothing dull about them.  Also we did a fair bit of work on one of the Gaelic pieces I was struggling with and now it sounds really quite jolly and I am becoming less inclined to moan about it – which will be a great relief to all.   After that we talked about starting Christmas music next week and only doing a little more work on the SPL concert pieces a bit nearer the time of the performance.

We spent quite some time practising O Lux Beatissima, a new piece but very easy and rather lovely, which we will be singing at both the above mentioned and the Christmas concerts.  There were a few people who’d not set eyes on it before but, as I mentioned in a recent blog, even I managed to sight-read this straight off so it presented no problems for other more able choristers.  We sang Grabmedoodlewhoosits but without Robin’s solo as he has hurt his back and was unable to move let alone come along to sing.  (Hope it is better soon, Robin.  Kisses.  Eurch – he won’t like that!)  Douglas, who used always to sing this solo but who will not be singing with us at the Poetry Library – why not?  Don’t ask me – filled in for R (very nicely, as ever) and we worked on getting some colour into the accompanying parts.  It became quite like a rainbow.  Ahhh. 

Ae Fond Kiss: no Helen for the solo, so Kay – being the only true soprano Scot – was volunteered for the job, which she accepted somewhat reluctantly.  Helen, btw, was not the least bit Scottish.  Just thought I’d mention it.

We headed through to the piano room – that does sound grand, doesn’t it?  Really it is the dining room with a piano in it.  Some might find that quite grand, too, if without a dining-room or a piano.  Why we went through I forget but once there I know we practised Amazing Grace. Only, however, after lengthy discussion and decision-making.  This piece, as sung by us, was arranged by former – and, indeed, founder – Rudsambee leader, Sheena Phillips, who I am quite sure was feeling particularly wicked on the day she did it.  It is not hard to sing as long as you can avoid the jazzy bits in verses three and four (which, being incompetent, I can); if you can’t avoid them, well... good luck - but it’s quite a challenge to work out who’s supposed to be doing what where and it took the Lord and Master a fair bit of time to get through to his (rather slow) minions just what the complicated requirements are.  Add to that the fact that we were rather short of sopranos and as well as the jazzy bit, split two ways, there is a descant somewhere or other and, voila! a recipe for confusion and disaster if ever I heard one.  I think (only think, mind you) that I know what I’m supposed to be doing and when I’m supposed to be doing it and that is all I care about.  So there.

And speaking of being short of sopranos, we are soon going to be rather short of altos, too.  Anne is having to take a break from singing to rest her vocal cords and Natalie announced on Wednesday that she will be leaving the choir after the Poetry Library concert.  She has left before and returned and may well do so again once she has finished her studies but her going now will leave us in a bad case for Christmas music, especially if Anne is still unable to warble with us by then.  As you know, Harriet is not going to be around for Christmas either, though I believe that Helen is going to join us – but that still leaves us one sop short as Anna Lauren won’t be returning just yet awhile.  I feel some recruitment coming on [yep!]... but I felt that before not long ago and nothing happened.  Ollie announced that we would be singing quite simple music at the Christmas concerts as there will not be enough of us to sing pieces with lots of splits in them.  A great shame but – what can you do?  There’s quite a lot we didn’t get to do last year because of cancelled performances so we’ll be revisiting what of that is suitable and I’m sure the programme will be lovely whatever happens.

So, having contemplated an imminent farewell we were contemplating a coffee when who should appear at the door of the piano/dining room but the afore-mentioned AL complete with well wrapped baby Evangeline.  What a gorgeous little creature, to be sure.  She was very taken with Luke and very patient with the huge, cooing faces that surrounded her.  The baby behaved well, too.  I felt obliged to warn Anna Lauren that we had to sing Happy Birthday to Arno and AL said it was fine because Evangeline likes music.  This is all very well but Rudsambee singing Happy Birthday could never be regarded as music.  Perhaps Arno got away with a slightly less ear-piercing rendition of the song thanks to baby-awareness because Evangeline did not cry.  Of course this could simply mean that she is tone deaf but I’m sure not.  Not with Anna Lauren for a mother.  I did try to persuade AL to return to us before Christmas but I had no luck there.  She is going to take her time and I am sure this is the right thing to do.  (But pretty please, AL???????)

Sorting out my music file so that I have the concert stuff in good order I was somewhat puzzled by several missing pieces, Desh and Fog Elna Khel and Contre qui, Rose for example.  Where could they be, I asked myself?  What have I done with them?  I then remembered the phantom music thief of the Ensign Ewart.  Those pieces was nicked, guvnor.  Note to Christopher: Please, Sir, can I have some more?

Must dash.

Blogetteer in a bad mood (But not any more)

Thursday.

What a day.  How confusing it all was.  I lay awake in the early hours listening to the wind howling and the rain making like Miss Earnshaw at the window, thinking how unlikely it was that I’d be trotting into town later, only to find, on getting up, that the sun was shining in a clear blue sky.  I trundled off, delighted, to make my breakfast and lo! the kitchen went dark, Cathy came home again and the wind raged once more.  By the time I’d finished eating, sunshine.  After my shower, rain.  And so on and so on and so... I spent the day dodging precipitation and puddles. 

Well, was I out of sorts, or what, last night????  Don’t ask me why... a few people did (so I wasn’t hiding it then?) and I had no proper answer.  Feeling under the weather for a day or two; a bit tired... so what?  Hardly the first time I’ve felt like that and I’m rarely quite so grumpy.  Thank God for Rudsambee, then – it didn’t take long for my mood to lighten (yes, really.  You might not believe me, my dear choir cohort, but my mood did, indeed, lighten quite considerably, thank you) and I even ended up laughing.  Imagine!

The BW was very late – getting some music sorted was his excuse – so we started without him.  How keen is that?  We began with something I’d never seen before though several people seemed to know it off by heart.  Or to think they know it off by heart.  It’s a little ditty called El Grillo [Josquin des Prez] – The Cricket (Jimini, leg-scratchy type not bat-and-ball and silly-mid-off).  Easy.  Really.  Nothing to worry about except that I couldn’t sing it – even though most of it is on one note.  Such was my mood – and not in any way improved by the struggle to get a hand(le) on the jumpy one.

Saturday.

Our new music was Christmassy stuff – not carols but things suitable.  We began with a third version of that old Rudsambee favourite O Magnum Mysterium.  This one by Poulenc.  Gorgeous but definitely fiddly.  We had a go at a Tavener piece called O, Do Not Move – best to put the consonants in properly, as Jenny pointed out – O, Do Not Moo does not have the same... well, no – wait a minute... cows in the stable and all that.  Moo would be fine, after all.  It is very short and only the Bass 1s and Sop 2s have anything much to do but it is lovely.  We will probably sing this as a companion piece to Rocking which we sang last year.  We sang something called Ballet’s Lullaby – by whom???  Any offers?  And who, may I enquire, is Ballet?  Or is it a case of what?  In which circumstance I know the answer having been a ballerina for many years.  Yeh, right.  You should have seen my sturdy little legs in pink ballet tights – but I always had lovely arms and a good ‘line’.  Kay has gone back to ballet lessons which makes me quite jealous so I suggested that she and I might do a little exhibition dance during the singing of this number.  Jenny got very excited.  Yes, Jen – just as if.  Well, I cannot speak for Kay, who wasn’t there, but I can safely say for myself, again – just as if. 

This song caused a little controversy.  Jenny Fardell had very decided views as to how it should be sung, in direct opposition to my own ideas, I may say – there were a few un-tied quavers which looked as if they should have been tied and certainly the words suggested that tying them would be best but, oh no – Mrs F was quite sure they should be separate thus making important words like ‘Jesus’ take second place to ‘hath’.  I don’t know – it’s beyond me.  Ollie agreed with HER, unfortunately.  Bloody typical.  (!!)  And even more confusing than the weather.  Final new piece: As Dew in April by David Wulstan.   All went well to begin with and there seemed to be a fair consensus that this was a song worth singing but suddenly all changed and I wasn’t sure why exact... we got to the end and Ollie said “Yes, well, we’ll see about that one” and it took me rather by surprise.  Yes, well, I suppose we’ll see...

New pieces over we had a sing through some of the songs for the Poetry Library.  Yes.  The G_A_E_L_I_C songs.   You can imagine what that did for my mood.  We started one of them and sang it through and then repeated it, as directed and then repeated it AGAIN at which point I found myself hitting my head on the table.  There were people who thought I was doing it because I couldn’t sing it properly.  The truth is that I was doing it because I couldn’t  face the third repetition.   Three times through?  Really?

Aaaaagh!

As you can see this has taken a day or two.  I’ve been hitting the tennis court (and the high street) instead of the keyboard so, enough now and off to Mr Scott, the Post-man.

Am going to Sussex again next Thursday so you may or may not hear from me next weekend.  Oh, let’s be optimistic, shall we?

See you next week, then.

Or the one after.