Coughs and Splutters

Poor old us.  So much of the above going on.  And Nikos had to leave early (having arrived late) because he was feeling so bad.  Hasn’t been well for a while, actually, so it was good to see he is still alive and kicking, albeit rather feebly.  And skinnily.  Very baggy about the jean-bottom, I noticed.  Daresay I shouldn’t have been looking...

Anne sat in a chair all evening nursing a cold.  Jenny sat in a chair half the evening doodling on a pad of graph paper probably pinched from her son, Connor, who was with us again (though sensibly hiding in the other room) and tomorrow she’ll moan at him for not having done his Maths homework.  This is mere speculation, of course.  The paper could have come from anywhere.  It might even have been her own.  She did have a pile of paper with her tonight and, while some of it (unusually) had music on, quite possibly there was other stuff mixed in with it – certainly she didn’t appear to be possessed of anything much we were singing.  How she gets by I’ll never know – and she always ends up (almost) knowing everything by heart, too.  Perhaps she sleeps with it all under her pillow and absorbs it at night.  That could well be where her music is when she’s supposed to have it at rehearsals.  And concerts.

People seemed to have been very prompt tonight.  Unlike me.  And Arno and Kirsty and the aforementioned Nikos.  Oh, yes, and Heather, too.  We all sloped in a little late (particularly the a-mN) once the others were well away with….something.  Immanuel oss I nat’, that was it.  Icelandic.  Sung many times before by more of us than you would have believed had you heard our efforts this evening.  I arrived just as the inevitable discussions regarding pronunciation were beginning.  Something like a consensus was reached but what they agreed upon bore little resemblance, as per, to what I have got written down.  

These blogs get rather repetitive, don’t they?  You could probably write them yourself, Dear Readers.  (Note, optimistic, positive frame of mind.  Good, eh?)

Having ‘Feng-kin air’-ed and ‘kreesto didli’-ed until it all sounded OK(ish) we moved on to Jajang – much improved; also Nyathi Onyuol and intensive bashing of the tenor section.  Ol knocked them into some sort of shape – boy! they’ll be black and blue tomorrow.  Mostly with this one it’s the words... they cause problems.  And the rhythms.  And sometimes the notes.  Or the lack of them.  There’s one place where the men’s notes are not notes i.e. they have those little crosses instead to indicate speech and John was concerned that not everyone was, indeed, speaking (“ting ma pek” being the delightful wordage at this point).  The Boy Wonder, apparently, cares not a jot about this, thinking the effect of half-and-half (half right, half wrong) works a treat.  In truth I think he is concerned that, were he to impose a new way of performing this bit on the wrong ’uns, the correct rhythm, so eagerly sought and so welcome once found, might disappear again and be lost forever.  Ol is very fond of finding us familiar words with which to ‘replace’ unfamiliar ones and the tenors got well into the spirit of this with something about a car, a car window and then a Nintendo car window... I hope this helps them.  I’m looking at my copy and can’t see anywhere where this particular sequence of words would be of any use whatsoever...

We had more of this while working on Hey, hey, Lelija! but it made more sense.  Our Lord and Master turned to the ladies and demanded, “Say ‘end’.”  We did.  “Say ‘me’.”  Again, obedient as ever, we did as bid.  “Say me-end.”  As before.  “Me-en-dzeh.”  Done.  One word sorted.  “Say Vienna... shvienna... shvienn... shviennchay” etc etc with an ‘f’ added here and there where no ‘f’ should be and Bob’s yer uncle.  Nearly there.

Turning to Amuworu – more tenor bashing.  Robin was beginning to look quite cross-eyed while Chris just looked cross.  Jenny, it appeared, was ready for bed such a yawn she let out unhindered by any embarrassment whatsoever. 

We had a look at Ecce Novum Gaudium and practised singing it with a little delicacy instead of belting it out full throttle as we are wont to do.  We are to have Tamsin playing her harp in her lively Tamsin way for this one and Mrs Fardell pointed out that we needed a drum, too.  “You wanna do that, then?” enquired the L&M.  So now Jen will be drumming - imagine!  If she doesn’t have the full rock-band set up, centre stage and mic-ed up I’ll eat... a cake with gluten in it.  Which I no longer do if I can help it, btw.  Ol pondered quartets for this one.  We had them before.  We must have done because I have an orange line underneath verse 2 and do not find verses 3 and 4 at all familiar word-wise.  Anne agreed; she had sung a quarteted verse in the past, “But let someone else do it this time,” says she, “it’s time us oldies gave the young ones a chance.”  “Speak for yourself,” said Susan.  “Am I an ‘oldie’?” I asked, “If so, I’m with Susan on this one.”  Which I am.  I haven’t noticed a lack of opportunity for the ‘young ones’ to show off.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  And this song requires no particular vocal virtuosity and so is ideal for someone like me who has none.

STOP PRESS…..

UNPRECEDENTED SUCCESS FOR THE TENORS OF RUDSAMBEE

......STOP PRESS

We re-visited that tricksy-dicksy little Tavener piece Rocking – all skipping about between sharps and flats and clashy, clashy chords.  And... the tenors got it right!!!!!!!  First time.  Well, almost.  And the ‘almost’ was only one nasty little Bb (or maybe # (or, possibly, natural)).  It seems that the harder something is to learn, the easier it is to remember.  Maybe concentration is the key?????

The altos and basses got their turn at a battering when we started trying to put The Lamb to bed.  Wretched creature just wouldn’t settle down.  We were getting there – eventually – but need, says Ol, to work on it at home.  The trouble is that at home it is easy…on my own I always get it right.  But once those clashy, clashy chords (Tavener again) get going so does my confidence and hitting the correct note straight off becomes slightly (!) less of a breeze.  I’d like to think I’m not the only one with this problem and that we had to go over and over and over it because other people were finding it tricky too.

The sopranos got off very lightly, but there were only two of them last night and they had to work bloody hard anyway.

It is Thursday morning.  10:04 to be precise and I have finished my blog.  I started it last night!!!!  I deserve a STOP PRESS and some bold lettering, too.  Go me.  If only it could always be like this...

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