Pitch(ure) Perfect

Well, OK, maybe not but not bad at all: Lovely concert at the Portrait Gallery beneath all the newly scrubbed great and good; all very shiny-clean and gilded. Didn’t get much chance to look around but really liked what I saw of the new café area – very open and bright and welcoming. Must go back for a better nosey (perhaps I’ll peruse a picture or two as well. What a revolutionary!) before too long.

We didn’t get much time to rehearse because not everyone was able to arrive by 5 o’clock. Eventually we ended up doing a fair bit of practising in front of our gathering audience but they didn’t seem to mind too much; indeed, why should they? One and a bit concerts for the price of none can’t be bad, can it?

Naturally there was a dodgy moment or three – Abendlied went better than expected, I think, though I messed up the bit I had been telling Jenny on Wednesday I found perfectly easy – typical! At this point the Tenor 1 part (yes, Jen and I were growling again) comes in on the same note as the Altos have just finished on (or started on or something) only, in spite of how it’s written in the music, we should be an octave lower. I came in merrily on exactly the same note as the Altos, a whole octave too high and when I realised what I had done I had to swoop down to where I was supposed to be rather too quickly for any elegance of tone. Jenny said she didn’t notice but this was her last concert (sob, wail, gnashing of teeth and tearing of hair) so perhaps she was being kind. Or perhaps her hearing is not what it was after 5 years of me screeching in her ear...

The Lully Entrées were wonderful – our little band quite superb and I echo Anne and Harriet in their delight that the band was not just a band but consisted of three choir members who just moved along to where their instruments waited for them, played brilliantly and then returned to sing with us again. ‘Twas special. And well done to a very colourful Chris for staying in both his mind and body and producing a splendid solo – I knew he would.

Robin came along to sing with us after all which was a joy. We had the pleasure of his company in spite of his having had a trying day. The Tenor section was much stronger as a result – there would only have been a lonely two of them without him. Then there was the joy of his solo in Kiisu Miisu [see below] which gets better every time, (and, while I’m writing about this, Susan’s miaowing during this song has taken on a new life recently – she says she is doing it In Memoriam for Rufus and Rosie; fabulous stuff it is) >>> back to Robin ... a solo Ollie would have had to do otherwise (perhaps he was disappointed to see Robin running in, shirt-tails flapping and hair a-flop, but I don’t think so) and he joined us for the meal afterwards too which was lovely. (Having Robin there, I mean, though the meal was good too).




The pesky Lamb was up to its usual tricks, gambolling off out of control (tune) here and there but we managed to shepherd it back under some sort of order before we finished.

Everything else was OK – some quite lovely, of course. The audience was a good size and seemed to enjoy themselves – though there was a fair bit of wandering in and out and not all of it quiet. Anne was glaring at people from her seat in the middle of them but, rather surprisingly considering Anne’s glare, this didn’t make much difference. Why people (mis-)behave like this I don’t know – especially during quieter songs. It wouldn’t be difficult to wait until there’s some applause before coming in or going out; we do get applause, quite a lot of it really and none of the songs is so long that the waiting would be unacceptably protracted. Ah well! People, eh?!

Post-concert almost all of us headed off to Vittoria’s on Leith Walk for a farewell-to-Jenny-and-Anne meal. We thought it was a farewell-to-Harriet meal as well but it turns out she’s not actually leaving us just yet. Oops. We tried to include her in the Irish Blessing at the end of the concert but she waved her hand rather desperately, mouthing "No, I’m not going," so we had to give up on that one. I’d made her a card, too but I’ll just keep it until she really does leave (which will be all too soon once she’s completed her PhD). It will be signed by Jenny who’ll be long gone and anyone else who decides to leave before Harriet (don’t you dare) which will be a bit odd but... well, this IS Rudsambee.

Cards and presents given (Anne got gardening vouchers and gin (!), Jenny a teddy in a Rudsambee t-shirt (inspired, Sebastian Arno! [apologies for the confusion]) and a voucher for the Queen’s Hall, (or actual tickets – anyway there’s a ukulele festival on there in April and I think the idea was that she might enjoy that (I love over-using brackets, don’t you?))) we said our sad goodbyes and headed home. Choir will not be the same without those two. There will be no Anne to organise us and to whip the women into shape when Ol has his hands full with the men (oo-er)... and I might have to be serious and well-behaved with no Jenny beside me to provoke into giggles and to giggle with. As to managing the singing without them, well…I think I’m going to have to do some growing up.

At my age, I ask you!

IT’S NOT FAIR (stamp, scowl, stamp again).

So that’s that. I did it – two blogs. Good me.

Maybe I shall start calling myself your blogetteer again.

P.S. Re last week’s blog and the mention of "dusty, scratchy amber stuff" – I meant amber-coloured. Do you, Mr Commentator, think I am a fool????????