All About Nothing

We had no rehearsal this week. Several people were sick or tired (or both) so Ollie decided we should all have a week off and meet again next Wednesday with some new music and some new faces. However, I feel I must write a few words at least in order to keep up the blog-count. Once it starts dropping, as we have seen in the past, there is no hope for it and it falls and falls and finds it as hard to get back up again as my voice does from the depths of alto-2-I-don’t-think-so-make-that-tenor-1 parts. And (see previous blogs if necessary), I reiterate, that is HARD.

What can I tell you about instead? I did nothing on Wednesday night although free to do whatever I fancied. Lazy? Unimaginative? Me? Oh, well, go on then, perhaps I am. Of course I may have done something quite exciting and simply forgotten all about it but I think not. Speaking of forgetting all about things, I actually forgot my PIN number the other day; the one I use all the time, the one I know as well as I know my own name. What a numpty. How did that happen? The gaping, four digit space in my brain – well, two digit, slightly less agape, I had remembered the first couple of numbers – was filled again pretty quickly, thank heaven, but oh, it’s a bit scary. I have been thinking very hard about remembering things since then and can report that, so far, all seems as per (i.e. a little raggedy at times but nothing too concerning); however, if, at any point in the near future, you think I am a-slip mentally – if you can tell, that is - please leave a comment on the blog and I will take immediate action (more crosswords and Sudoku or something).

Yesterday I did some gardening. This followed a trundle to-and-from Craiglockhart for a tennis session. Impressive, eh? Yes, but just how badly did I play? Oh, my! Maybe three or four shots to be quite proud of but as for the rest... and, unfortunately, most (OK, all) of the other ladies who attend this session are better players than I am and some of them are a little inclined to tut, albeit sotto voce (if one can tut in such a manner), which doesn’t make me play any more competently I can assure you. I am going to persevere, though, because otherwise I’ll never improve and they will just have to put up with me. Interestingly, the very best players (very good indeed) are less likely to display frustration and are full of encouragement. I suppose their competitiveness is under control due to winning on a regular basis (unless they have me as a partner) while others feel they have something to prove. Anyway, I am much more relaxed with the people I play with on a Tuesday and I still play like a dog half the time... an old dog; old dog/new tricks. Oh dear, does this mean there is no hope for me?

So, the gardening. Only the front garden. This is manageable (unlike the back which I look out on in despair) and I smartened things up quite well. There are lots of snowdrops and the bluebells are coming; things are a-stir and how lovely it was to be out there in the warm sun, working really rather hard. I even got the ladder out to cut away some stuff (note my expertise in nomenclature) from around the window. I filled the brown bin up to the top so had to stop though there is still more to be done. Ivy, for example, is invading from around the more inaccessible side – naturally – so I must get out there and saw it off at the bottom before it can make its way into the sitting room by way of under-the-window. It appears to be making a good job of insinuating itself between the stone, the mortar and the wood of the frame. Not good. Not good at all. Bring me my trusty blade.

I spoiled all this healthy living by going out in the early evening yesterday and not returning until the early morning today, having spent the intervening time with friends who practise drinking much harder and more regularly than I do but with whom I think I kept up fairly well. I had a lovely time but genuinely thought I was going out for an hour or two for a drink or two, not for seven hours and several bottles – you can imagine how I am regretting this behaviour now and vowing not to do it again. Often in my life I have made vows of a similar sort. Often I have broken them. I have no will-power or – let’s face it – common-sense. I am, in short, a fool.

But you know that already.

Now, I have to go into town to collect some rings that have been in the jewellers for surgery. Why is it that the rest of me is very little, if at all, bigger than I was in my youth and yet my fingers seem to have got fatter? This seems mighty unfair. And is definitely rather costly.
Adieu, for the nonce, my dear Reader(s).

Your fond (and fairly efficient), Blogetteer.

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????????

Pre-Portrait Gallery

So – tomorrow night we sing at the Portrait Gallery for the first time since it was closed for refurbishment, however long ago that was… any ideas, Mr S?  [I think that's just shy of 3 years since we were last there] It is a lovely space to sing in and we used always to get good-sized audiences so we’ll see what the morrow brings and how/if things have changed.  We have to meet in the Educational Lunch Room!?!  At least, I think that’s what I heard.  Sounds awful, doesn't it?  When I eat my lunch I wish to enjoy my food, if at all possible, along with some idle chit-chat (always possible); on the odd (I use that word advisedly) occasion a meaningful discussion on a topical subject is acceptable but only if one’s lunch companions are really serious types who don’t understand the notion of a good natter.  I certainly don’t want educating while I eat – imagine what that would do to the digestion.

Anyway, tonight we sang through almost everything we will be singing tomorrow.  Note the ‘almost’.  It will be a fine day – and probably the end of the world – when we actually go through the whole programme the day before a performance.  That would be far too cosy and safe, wouldn’t it?  Can’t be having us cosy and safe.

I arrived a little early for once and was delighted to come upon an intense rehearsal of the musical accompaniment to the Lully pieces.  All three of our musicians had turned up and it was sounding really rather good.  Tamsin was almost asleep, having had a looooooong day but still managed to pluck her harp strings with extraordinary energy.  It was lovely to hear the three of them play together at long last – we’ve had Nikos on his guitar and Sebastian on his cello but never Nikos and Sebastian and never Tamsin at all.  Once everyone turned up we spent a fair bit of time putting the whole thing together and it’s going to be fun.  The basses – the three that are left (I forgot about Luke last week because he wasn’t there – that’s a bit insulting, isn’t it?) - were a little hesitant at first and they do have a tricky time coming in in the right place bit they were certainly sounding OK by the time we finished.  Chris has a solo in the first (second) Entrée (oo! An  accent.  Thank you) and sings it splendidly.  Usually.  For some reason, on one of our run-throughs, he went completely and horribly wrong for no discernible reason at all…. one second he was singing merrily away and then came a wrong note and then another one and then…. well, there were no more notes, just the wrong one repeated rather a lot of times.  Oh, it was funny.  Kay was beside herself and she wasn’t the only one.  It is so very hard to sing when killing oneself laughing.  There was many a squawk and splutter.  Poor Christopher had no idea at all how things went so badly wrong.  I think it was a sort of out-of-body experience.  Let’s hope he stays well inside his body tomorrow evening. [Poor Christopher realised later that he had mysteriously started singing the next page of the piece]

Abendlied was a bit of a nightmare.  I had very little idea what I was doing first time round but had remembered it by the second go, only finding it pretty tricky to sing with any confidence or gusto – gusto isn’t quite what’s required for this one but it does go a long way towards making it sound as if we know what we’re singing.  And I’m not sure we do, not really.  Ah well.  Another practise tomorrow and maybe we’ll get through it without too many nasties.  Ah, the wishful-thinking phenomenon…. where would we be without it?

Oh yes, forgot to mention that Ollie’s friend, Andrew, came to beat a drum and tap a tambourine along with us in the Lully pieces.  He learns quickly, he does.  And he knows Ol well enough to be able to say to him, “I do need to know the difference between…” (hand flap) “And…” (almost imperceptibly different hand flap).  Don’t we all?  The percussion adds just that little je ne sais what to the proceedings.  Good stuff.

Well, I promised you two reports this week and I have delivered numero uno.  Short and sweet (uninformative) but very much in evidence.  Clever me.  How much are you willing to wager against me managing  the second?  I shall do my best to confound your expectations but

don’t hold your breath waiting….

You cannot just whip out a cello…

...you have to prepare it.  ‘Course you do:

“Do you cover it in rosin, or something?” asks Robin.  “Well, how should I know.  I don’t know anything about stringed instruments.”

While this may be true I am quite sure he is aware that a rosin-covered cello would be a) rather dusty, b) rather scratched and c) no better sounding than a rosin-free one.

And surely there’s enough to do as it is with spikey things to be lowered, strings to be tuned, bows to be tightened…(and yes, OK, a bit of the dusty, scratchy amber stuff comes in handy at this point).

The cello in question was (is) Sebastian’s and he was preparing said cello in order to accompany our rendition of Lully’s Entrees de Ballet (no accent again – my lap-top ain’t ‘alf picky).  We will be singing these at the Portrait Gallery on Thursday (what? When?  Aaaaagh!) with Tamsin on harp, Nikos on guitar and Ol’s friend Andrew (who, a propos of nothing - still no accent - knits a mean cable-stitch, btw) on tambourine.  Neither Tamsin nor Nikos were present on Wednesday and Andrew only ever gets to practise with us last minute, so we have yet to try singing this with all the noise going on.  There will only be two basses left to sing and only two tenors as well because we’ll be missing (big-time) our Robin so there will need to be some belting-out of tunes and lyrics from the remaining men.  John and Arno were being a bit shy on Wednesday.  No room for that sort of behaviour, lads.  Especially as there’s been talk of the instruments being amplified.  You need to make yourselves heard and I know you can do it.  (Don’t worry about getting the notes right, anything will do as long as it’s in tune).

So, that was a small diversion.  What I was going to say at the beginning of this blog goes as follows:  It is just as well I am not the sort of person who makes resolutions at the beginning of the year.  I am far too busy thinking about all the things I didn’t achieve in the previous fifty-two weeks and am also unlikely to acieve in the following twelve months.  If I did make resolutions I dare submit that one of them would have been something to do with getting my blogging done more regularly and on a Wednesday night or Thursday morning instead of -  well, instead of what I do.  You may have noticed that my first couple of 2012 blogs were, indeed, written and presented with some despatch (you may have noticed but that rather depends on whether or not Postman Chris was doing his job with matching enthusiasm) in spite of the lack of resolution (!); you may also have noticed that I fell off my blogging wagon last week – after so short a time, shameful ain’t it? - and found myself far too busy (ahem) to apply myself to literary creativity (ahem again).  I promise forthwith to try and behave as if I actually had made the resolution as outlined above and am actually the sort of person who would make great efforts to keep it.

In an effort to make up for my failure last week I will (maybe) send you two reports next.  One after the rehearsal on Wednesday and one after the concert on Thursday.  This will be Jenny’s last concert with us (just what am I supposed to do without her?) and we are going out for a farewell meal afterwards so there should be lots to tell you.

We have a new soprano, by the way.  Yey!  Her name is Luana.  I know nothing else about her yet except that she is young and can sing but no doubt that will change.  I’ll let you know…….

Now, some altos, please.  Where are all those keen but under-employed warblers?  I really can’t manage the growly-girly bits all by myself…I can get low enough but then I struggle to get back up again.  It’s like the break between a chest voice and a head voice but more extreme; as if my voice has fallen into a deep well with sides too sheer and slippery for it to have any chance of hauling itself out. 

And no bucket.

I could drown down there.

We could do with a couple of tenors, too.

Perhaps I should get my mother to pray to St Anthony.  He’s always finding things for her.  But then, those are things she’s lost in the first place.  I’ve no idea if he’s able to start the process from scratch.

 

OMG!

What the…?  I arrived in good time last night and, what did I see?  I’ll tell you what I saw.  Through the dining-room window I espied a group of men….several basses and a smattering of tenors.   In full voice.  It seems they had all arrived

EARLY?

And were practising – I say it again because it is almost beyond belief and the more I say it the more I might believe it – 

EARLY.

By arrangement, as it turned out.  I find this a little scary.  Why?  Not sure, exactly.  Men of the super-keen variety are not unheard of within our ranks but to get nearly all of them there

EARLY

is, I think, unprecedented and, yes, a little scary.  Hypnotism?  Bribery?  Threats?  Something fishy’s going on and I’m not sure I like it!

We women arrived in dribs and drabs, as is usually the case with everyone and all of us looked slightly nonplussed.  More than one person asked “What is going on?”  Susan offered the explanation that the men’s…um…previousness (?!) was by mutual agreement.  This did nothing to dispel the confusion.

Once we had all gathered and been joined by the ‘men’-who-have-been-swapped-by-aliens we began with a warm-up orchestrated by Jenny who did a much better job of it than I did in Week One.  I think people actually felt warmed-up by the time she’d finished with us.  Ollie then told us what we’d be doing for the rest of the evening and, indeed, we did do most of it but, unfortunately, there was no time to have a second look at Nikos’s piece and I was looking forward (with only a teensy amount of dread) to that.

We went over the two French pieces which we began last week – the Lully  Entrées de Ballet.  I had my glasses with me this week and a clear head so these went much better for me.  They are not difficult, or not in the alto line, anyway.  We have had to change the rhythm in a few bars as the notation was different from the original and Ol wants it the same, we worked on tuning and expression.  The basses have ten bars or so to sing at the beginning of the 3^rd Entrée (why has my computer added an accent on this word for me and not on the first ‘Entrées’ above (and again)?  Is it the ‘s’ that confuses?  No, look, I added an ‘s’ and it’s still there.  I think it’s the Lully; how odd [here, have an accent]) and they tried, bless them.  Perhaps they should arrive early next week to practise this.  They sang it (?) and it wasn’t good.  In fact, “That was shit,” said Kay, never one to mince her words.  It was.  But it was better when we came back to it later.  And when we came back to these later and still hadn’t got the chordage quite precise enough Ollie told us he wanted no wet tea-bags, no splatting.  “Perhaps a cafettiere instead,” suggested Robin; though it’s hard to see how that would work.

We spent some time on the beautiful Abendlied, which is not yet beautiful, I’m afraid, but has potential.  I felt some triumph in finding a couple of bars quite straightforward which our Jen was finding tricky.  HA!  I practised on my own at home before leaving for rehearsal.  It is a few bars later where the Eb that was causing Mrs Fardell a problem reverts to an E natural that was tripping me up (in spite of personal practise) but I managed to find the pesky note every time after some trilling around and about it and it will come naturally (tee hee) soon enough.

We separated into two groups for the men to practise (again) their new piece and for we women to try and make some progress with the Bulgarian song we started last week.  Make progress we did, especially after throwing the men out of the piano-holding room but then we discovered that our two sheets of music, coming along rather nicely by this time, should have been considerably more in number, the first page ending with bar 12 and the second starting with bar 61.  Oops.  Quite a lot missing, then.  “Perhaps we won’t practise linking them up just yet,” says the puzzled BW, “Someone emailed me this and told me there were only 2 pages.”  Someone was mistaken, were they not?  I don’t suppose anyone but a Bulgarian or two would notice if we were only singing a third of the words; it seems from the translation we have that those few we are singing would make some sort of sense alone but the men’s piece is much longer than ours so I think an effort should be made to find the missing section as quickly as possible.  Can’t have them hogging the limelight (even if they are prepared to turn up 

EARLY).

We female types were treated to a performance of Zikr (think that’s correct – Christopher?? [yep]) and what fun it was.  The basses were in full flow and the tenors looking terrified and confused by turns but they did OK.  Very OK.  It is a great piece and will sound fantastic once they all know what they’re doing (one can dream…)

Heather has come up with a good plan – she thinks maybe we should consider making a new CD before Ollie leaves us; either instead of or as well as a concert in May.  I like this idea, though we have no Helen to do the recording.  I’m sure someone could be found to help out. There’re bound to be a few things we want to set down from Ollie’s tenure and I think we’ll kick ourselves if we don’t do it.  May is looking a bit dodgy for me in terms of being around at weekends so I hope a decision is made soon about dates and doings so that I can order my life accordingly and not miss out on any Rudsambee-related excitement.

There you are.  Up-to-date if not enthralled.

xxx

Vagueness

Bad head space this week so I am sorry but I haven’t got much to say for myself having been even less switched on than this week than I usually am.  I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to write a comprehensible sentence... let’s see what I can do.

There was a new face in the alto section but, having arrived a little late, I missed introductions – I presume there were introductions? – I really apologise.  I believe our new face belongs to a young lady of German nationality.  In this I could be mistaken; there are other countries where German is spoken.  I know Christopher will supply you with the necessary information [actually, he missed the intro as well!].  Soon he is going to show me how to post my own blogs and then you will never learn the truth about anything.   Oh, lord!  Anyway, said young lady seemed to be coping extremely well with copious amounts of sight-reading and so, if she stays, she will be a most welcome addition and I will still be by far the worst sight-reader in the choir. 

So – new stuff again.  Ollie’s idea is that we should spend a few weeks looking at new pieces and then select the ones we really like to work on alongside brushing up some older pieces for the Portrait Gallery concert.

We looked at two songs by Lully – from Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme: entrée de ballets 2 and 3.  These are supposed to be fast and funny, if I remember rightly... I wasn’t feeling fast or funny but I got some of the notes right – eventually!  We will have Nikos on guitar and Sebastian on cello when we sing these so will have to work on the balance but for now we were just note-bashing.

After this we split up into two groups, male and female.  The women stayed in the sitting-room while the men went through to where the piano resides.  As the BW stayed with us (most of the time) I have no idea who led the boys and I have no clue what they were working on [Arno mostly controlled the men through the first four pages of Zikr, which is another arrangement by Ethan Sperry whose Desh caused such amusement previously] but we female types were having a look at a piece called Dilmano Dilbero... a Bulgarian song with very tricky rhythms.  A while ago we used this piece as a warm-up and Ollie had called me earlier in the day to ask if I still had a copy of the music.  I couldn’t find it and as I searched I started to think that we’d never had the music but had been taught a bit of it off by heart and sung that bit over and over until warm... Ollie was, apparently, thinking the same thing but he managed to find the music before the rehearsal so we were able to start work on it.  We got the hang of the first two bars without too much difficulty but after that everything went to hell and, in all the time we spent, we didn’t get beyond bar 5.  However, we enjoyed ourselves getting nowhere.  The men sounded very dramatic.  I think they got further than we did with whatever they were working on but perhaps they were just singing bars 1 and 2 and giving it laldy to sound impressive.

When we got back together we had a look at a piece called Abendlied [after a few weeks of frantic email discussion to figure out where it had gone].  Sebastian has chosen this and it is lovely.  Asked for a translation he manfully obliged until John offered, “It’s ‘Abide With Me’ in German, almost word for word.”  Which it is.  But the tune’s really pretty.

Chris fed me chocolate and gluten-free bickies to calm my shattered nerves (they began to mend) and that was it for the evening.  Jenny drove me home.

BIG love to Rudsambee.  Full of shiny, twinkly stars shining and twinkling.

New year, new songs, same old blogetteer…

Yep, no hope, me buddies.  ‘Ere I am again, sans resolutions and already so far behind in the blogging business that it will take me until 2013 to catch up.  Well, no – that’s a ridiculous exaggeration, isn’t it?  Interesting we are but there’s no way that much has happened in the Rudsambee ranks since last I communicated.  However, I missed out on detailing the Christmas party and also our first meeting of the year last week, at which we discussed the future instead of singing, (and at which we had the amusement and excitement of Ollie-by-SKYPE) and so I will have to say something about these two events before I get going on tonight’s rehearsal.  Won’t I?  Yes I will.  There are, after all, things to be said.

But I’ll say them tomorrow.  Or Friday.  Or over the weekend.  I just wanted to get started this evening because once I’ve started it’s so much easier to carry on. 

Eventually. 

You know how it is.

A demain, (vendredi, le weekend, un jour…), mes amies – oh, we did go all French tonight but more of that plus tard.  Adieu.

I was right, of course.  I have spent the last day or so making something 1950s-ish to wear for my elder sprog’s 1950s night tonight so have had no time for this.  I apologise.  But I’m here now so on we go.

Or back we go, rather, back to December 15^th 2011, of distant memory.  The Christmas party.  Lovely evening in all particulars except one.  Great food as ever, good chat, good wine.  Not as many people as usual… quite a few missing choir members (not sure some of the newer Rudsambeeites are quite up to speed with our love of socialising – they’d better catch up and cotton on quick sharp) and the Myrtles were off somewhere singing to people and, as a result, we were missing several former members who can usually be relied upon to partay well into the small hours.  So, it was an earlyish night really but no less enjoyable for that.  The one particular mentioned above was that Anna Lauren popped along to say hello (which was nice) and to announce that she will not be returning to sing with us (which was not).  Devastating news, this but we wish her all the best and blessings galore as she moves forward into the future.  We will have to encourage her to join us for an evening at some point soon so that we can Irish Blessing her. 

First meeting of the year was on the 4^th.  There were only about 10 of us present but we got a lot done.  We have a recruitment plan and a recruitment committee and will, therefore, be recruiting very soon.  We need to find someone to take over from the BW when he decides to go.  He was unable to be with us in person as he was ‘stuck’ in London… it just happened to be Helen Miles’ birthday that day – in London - and I feel that this was the glue rather than any problems with travel, but I may be wrong.  Anyway, we could hardly complain as he had abandoned whatever birthday celebrations were taking place in order to join us by means of that miraculous invention which is SKYPE (have I spelled that correctly?  Luddite mind in evidence.  Again [Corrected. Luddite.]).  It was very amusing to see his little face grinning away at us on the very small screen.  Even more amusing to see it when he had no idea what was going on in Morningside and was looking blank (and bored) to say the least!  At one point Chris turned the laptop round so that Ollie could see Kay, who was addressing him directly.  Several minutes later – long after Kay had finished – a pathetic wee voice could be heard asking, “Can someone turn me round, please?”  Cue great hilarity as Christopher did as bid and our L&M was able, once more, to join us.

So, we are going to have Ollie’s company until April or May, it seems, but we will try to find someone who would be able and willing to join us before Ol goes and to work alongside him preparing us for a (possible) concert in May.  We have a concert in February at the Portrait Gallery and the usual St Giles in August and some Christmas dates but it was felt that a huge un-concerted gap between Feb and Aug might lead to enervation which would be a disaster for a new director and for us.

Ollie is on the search for some new choristers – a couple each of sopranos, altos and tenors – so if you know of anyone who might be interested tell them to get in touch pronto.  We are remarkably well off for basses.  And they’re good ones, too.

To Wednesday evening and our first sing of the year.  We have re-introduced the warm-up and note-taking routine so I was on warm-up duty and Jen on notes.  Can’t wait to see them.  She could hardly write for laughing at various moments but at least she was writing (some)things down so her chances of remembering what was going on are a deal better than mine.  Perhaps I should wait to read the notes before I publish this so I can pinch her ideas and pretend that I was paying attention this week???  My warm-up was a bit sketchy… had lots of thoughts about it beforehand but did I employ a pencil to record those thoughts?  Did I b*****y.  Anyway, better than nothing.  Susan seemed quite disappointed that I didn’t get people touching each other as I have been known to do in the past.  Not as exciting or rude as it sounds, unfortunately.  A little reciprocal shoulder massage is all.  Next time, Susan, next time…

We started by singing Une Puce.  Ollie was very particular about this.  Read Jenny’s notes for further info.  Then on to new material.  Exciting stuff.  Sight-reading and such.  An arrangement of Linden Lea came first.  “Does anyone know this?” asks Ollie.  “Yes, my mother used to sing it,” replies Jen.  Now, maybe it was her Yorkshire accent (slight but still evident) that did it but I glanced at the top of my copy and was quite convinced that it said:  Arrangement by Arthur Skargill. “ ??????,” I thought, “Didn’t know he was musical”.  Well, musical or not (what’s your guess?) he didn’t, in fact, arrange this piece but the chap who did has a name with the same initials and other vaguely corresponding letters and I didn’t have my glasses with me.  No, really.  I didn’t. 

Now – we have run into a petit problem.  I seem to have mislaid my file.  My file and therefore my music.  Could I have left it chez Wexler?  I think this is highly probable.  So I am not going to be able to tell you much more because of old brain.  You will have to wait until next week to discover what other pieces (French) we had a go at.  Or read Jenny’s notes.  However, one thing I can tell you is that Nikos has written a piece for us to sing and we had a go at that and my oh my, it is going to be fun.  That is to say, bloody tricky.  But fun too.  Oh yes.  Can’t remember quite what it’s called but I can find out (maybe) if you give me two ticks... Brodmann area 47 (I Googled).  Forty-something anyway.  Brodmann 47 (or whatever) is an area of the brain and is associated with something-or-other to do with music but there’s a big musical terminology shaped hole in my head at the moment where that word should be so I am not going to be able to tell you what I am talking about. The hole may well fill up with the appropriate wordage (not before I’ve despatched this blog Chris-wards, of course) but I fear I may be missing Brodmann fortywhoosit completely.  Anyway, Nikos has us doing all sorts of exciting things and making/singing noises instead of words.  This led to some amusement when he was attempting to explain what sound certain letters (some Greek) denoted.  “This is a ‘h’ as in hotel,” says he throatily.  “There is no ‘h’ in hotel,” says Susan, oh so correctly.  “ ’h’ as in how a Greek person would say hotel,” say I.  That’s clear then.  What he actually wants is the sort of ‘ch’ in loch.  That is what he will get.  Next cause of levity (Fardell hysteria) was when we were asked to speak our parents’ names for a bar or two.  Nikos has parents with lovely names: Maria and Yiannis.  My aged Ps are Tom and Peggy.  Rhythmic but hardly romantic.  Jenny’s dad was called Percy.  Still, Jenny’s not shy and Percy made a great showing (only he must have been a bit of a nuisance when he was alive because every time his name came up Jenny turned into her mother and he was being told off, poor man).   Ratchetting up the hysteria level, one of Nikos’s instructions had to do with orgasms – or lack of them, (if I may write such a word in the blog... my apologies to those of a nervous disposition).  Jenny apoplectic.

I’ll give you more info next week when I will have my folder to hand.  Promise.

Enough for now.  Quite an epistle, this blog.