Chris liked my last blog...

... which is great (“Felt like I was there,” he said) but the fact that he commented at all makes me question what he has thought of all the ones I’ve submitted before [honestly, nobody can take praise these days without finding fault]. However, at his suggestion, I am going to become more positive – I am going to pretend I remember everything that happens of an evening and I am not going to admit to my musical mistakes ever, ever again.

Ha!

Last night was another good rehearsal, though still down on numbers. The altos made a strong showing again, there being four of us; all the tenors turned up (three, that is, a somewhat pathetic number) and of sopranos there were also three - I suppose it is still the Easter holiday and I guess Kay is off with the family gallivanting somewhere pleasant for the duration; Harriet, I’m sure, is working hard on her PhD thesis and Tamsin, so busy, is taking some time out (but will be returning one day, I’m glad to say). Luckily, Marie-Claire, in the diary as an absentee, had managed to change shifts and came along unexpectedly which was, no doubt, a good thing for the sanity of Susan and Rachael – especially when we came to the singing of Nikos’s Brodmann area 47 when all possible strength of mind is required even to look at the music. We had three basses, too. The three who were away last week. Can’t really be termed consistent, can we?

We began with a warm-up orchestrated by Douglas. Had it been a piece of music it would have been of the ponderous and slightly perplexing variety but our brains were given a bit of a work-out, which is never a bad thing, especially when it comes to the singing of Brodmann area 47, as I think I have mentioned before.

Then we sang our new Tormis piece from last week – Bridge of Song. It has lots of unexpected repeats in confusing places and we also have to deal with both Finnish and Estonian (ex-Rudsambeeite, Sari, is to be called upon to give a hand with the Finnish as there were, as per, differing ideas (‘convictions’ would not be too strong a word) as to pronunciation of the Finnish, at least) but it is coming on really rather remarkably quickly. The altos and basses are not allowed to breathe very much which is a bit of a problem for yours truly but if I think about it in advance and stand up straight I can do it. Thinking and not slouching are tricky things to do at the end of a busy day... my mother thinks I have wonderful posture and says she stands up straighter when I’m around (I think she does that only because she is rather small and wishes to look me in the face when pretending I’m still five years old – it must make the pretence that much easier if she’s not having to look up at me) but I’m really pretty sloppy most of the time, to be honest.

A short discussion was held mid-rehearsal as to what we might include on the CD we will record in May. The discussion was lively, several suggestions being crushed before they’d even finished leaving the suggestors mouth. Robin put in a request for an odious thing called Son ar Chistr which, you will gather, I can’t stand. Breton. Horrid. Unfortunately it is quite popular amongst the longer-standing choir members – Kay, for instance, loves it – and I have a terrible feeling that anyone who knows it will be expected to join, joyfully, in its recording. Hear this, folks: I am one who knows it. I will probably have to join in. I won’t do it joyfully.

We moved on to a little piece called The Ox Climbed a Fir Tree. A few of us have more than one copy of this already, indicative of the fact that Ol has tried to get us to sing it several times before. It is by Tormis, again and is really an amusing, though somewhat discordant, offering so I’m not sure why we’ve never yet got it up to performance standard but Ollie, obviously, has no intention of giving up on his dream... We worked on this avec piano – did it help? I remembered most of it from last time but a first note’s always useful. Especially when the alto part is written above the soprano’s and the basses above the tenor’s. Why? Is he just trying to be awkward?

Then the aforementioned (what? More than once?) Brodmann’s area. I amuse myself with the thought that Nikos wrote this piece for us to sing. For us. And he’s given the tenors really, really difficult things to do. What was he thinking??? We altos have a really rather melodic line which makes it all much easier but oh! the counting that is required. Very few notes are where one would (reasonably) expect them to be and they all seem to rely heavily on other parts being exactly where they should be at all times. This is Rudsambee, for Heaven’s sake! But no one can deny that it is fun – in a masochistic sort of a way – and very, very good for us indeed.

I am doing notes as well as this this week so I suppose I’d better get on with those now. Or perhaps not. Maybe I’ll go out and spend money instead... hmmm... notes/pretty new things, notes/pretty new things, notes/pretty new things?