Going solo

As I predicted on last week’s blog, we were subjected to an extreme Gardning session this week, as John Gardner’s Shakespeare Sequence took up a goodly part of the Wednesday rehearsal. And as usual with Gardner, carnage reigned for a while, but harmony finally prevailed. The source of much of the angst was O Mistress Mine, which contains a suggested soprano solo. Personally I find singing solos very very scary indeed. In fact, one of the joys of being in a choir is that I get to hide among the crowd and make music in a team. There’s no “I” in choir! Oh. Anyway, last time we sang this piece no-one was brave enough to volunteer for the solo, which has some tricky rhythms, so we all sang it together. This time, David-the-Conductor asked me if I’d have a bash at it, but when I looked at the music I discovered that last time I’d not only crossed out an entire page in huge heavy pencil, but also written in capital letters at the top “STOP SINGING! YOU’LL F*** IT UP!” This was not a good sign. So when it came time to rehearse this piece, I did what any wimp would do and asked to be let off. David-the-conductor fixed us all with his beadiest eye and asked for another volunteer. We all looked at the floor and shuffled our feet. It would be fair to say that David-the-Conductor was not impressed with our lack of heroism, and he expressed this loudly and clearly for quite some time before a few brave souls finally threw themselves on their swords and gave it a go. I would like to publicly thank those who stood up in our hour of need and saved the face, and the nerves, of the entire section. We in the Sops salute you!

The scary Gardner notwithstanding, it is shaping up to be a seriously fantastic concert and I enjoyed choir this week more than I have for a long time. Which is good, because we got a double dose. On Thursday we had our first rehearsal for another exciting performance only two weeks after the Shakespeare concert. I’m proud to say that for the first time, Oriana have sold out the Roundhouse! Well, I suppose technically, it’s Robert Plant that’s sold out the Roundhouse. But we know secretly that Oriana is the real draw. Yes indeed, we are once again lucky enough to be joining Robert Plant onstage, and this time it’s for the BBC Electric Proms, which we’re really looking forward to. We sang with Robert earlier this year at Abbey Road Studios, and it was a fantastic experience. David-the-Conductor has been working night and day on some new arrangements and we had our first sing-through last night at the BBC studios in Maida Vale. We have to sing from memory, so there’s lots of hard work to do between now and the performance. But one of the pieces is so catchy that I’ve been singing it all morning and will definitely know it by heart by the time of the concert. As will all my work colleagues, the people on my train in the morning and the lady in the porridge stand at Marylebone station.

How low can you go?

Another week, another few hours rehearsing lovely Shakespeare music. I’m actually starting to feel a bit antsy. I’m not used to Oriana rehearsing music for only one concert at a time. Last year we had so many concerts and request performances packed into our schedule that we were rehearsing for several simultaneously, which was fun but a bit tense. So we’ve learned from the experience and have been all about forward-planning this term, building extra rehearsals into the schedule to allow us to rehearse concerts separately. I’m a bit worried that this means we’ll lose that enjoyable frisson of panic on the day of a concert, when we find a piece in the back of our folders that we haven’t rehearsed (like we did at last year’s Christmas concert). And there won’t be any chance that, come the performance, everyone will suddenly turn to a piece that I haven’t got, leaving me to mime with a strangled grin (last year’s Christmas concert again. That was an exciting concert!). It’s a brave but sensible new world.

It’s good to have the time to work on this Shakespeare programme though, as a lot of the music is pretty hard, with some gorgeous but tough dissonances. And of course, when you’re concentrating on trying to get the harmonies and rhythms right, pitch is the first thing to go. We were sliding like trombones on Wednesday. David-the-Conductor struggled between tactful encouragement and extreme exasperation as we plumbed the depths of our vocal ranges. The sops were giving the altos a run for their money with good strong chest voices, and the Basses were grumbling like drains. David-the-pianist joined in to correct us every time we dropped too far for comfort, and we all did sucking-a-lemon faces each time, but after the tenth occasion it just got dispiriting. Eventually, though, we got to a stage where we were getting the harmonies right, and it was starting to sound magical. “Yes!” shouted David-the-Conductor. “Lovely!” David-the-pianist’s fingers did some frantic flexing on the keyboard, but he managed to restrain himself from joining in, so we may even have been approximately in tune. So it’s starting to feel as though the programme’s coming together, and still three more rehearsals to go. I venture to say this bodes well, but I might just have jinxed us by saying that – we’ve got the Gardner still to rehearse after all. I can feel my tension headache building already.

A little Vaughan Williams

The comment on last week’s blog from the delightful Mr Mantyjarvi, whose music I’d been blithely discussing, has had three effects on me. Firstly, now that I know he is so knowledgeable about Moomins I am an even bigger fan than I already was. Secondly, I’ve realised – perhaps belatedly – that people might actually read the blog. Which leads me to thirdly, feeling very guilty about being so frivolously rude about Bob Applebaum last week. I do actually really like his “Witches Song”, which is lucky as worked quite a lot on it at this week’s rehearsal. We were trying to nail the scrunchy jazz chords, and it’s starting to sound luscious. Unfortunately, I went to a singing lesson during rehearsal, and while my back was turned the dastardly soprano section volunteered me to hit the tricky solo note at the very end. And I thought they were my friends! I am now applying for a transfer to the Altos, but in the meantime I’m going to get that note if it kills me. I’m doing it for the reputation of amateur singers everywhere!

So let’s talk about a composer that is in no position to sue me if he doesn’t like what I write in the blog – Vaughan Williams and his Three Shakespeare Songs. They’re simply gorgeous pieces, and we’re determined to do them justice in the concert. But they’re also very testing. “Full Fathom Five” is full of cross rhythms which are very difficult not to rush, “The Cloud Capp’d Towers” is an exercise in struggling to keep the pitch up, and “Over Hill Over Dale” is all about unexpected entries and working to stay together. After wrestling with them for a while, it felt as though they were designed to test us in the areas where we’re most likely to trip up. And as it turns out, they were written to do exactly that. Vaughan Williams wrote them for a choir competition festival at the request of Armstrong Gibbs, another Oriana favourite. Initially Vaughan Williams wasn’t enthusiastic about the idea, but then Armstrong Gibbs was taken ill with the flu, and while he was in bed a package arrived bearing the Three Shakespeare Songs and a dedication that he could do with them whatever he pleased. Which is a nice story, but it did rather make me wonder why Vaughan Williams would go to such trouble just because his friend had the flu. Do you suppose he was always so inspired by illness? Perhaps all his pieces were written in reaction to friends’ mild ailments. “A Seasick Symphony”? “Fantasia on the Theme of Tonsilitis”? “Gangrenesleeves?” The mind boggles!

To Miao or not to Miao, that is the question

If Shakespeare had never lived, as David Jenkins informs us on Timeout.com, Milton would be the national poet, leaving Britain a “thoroughly Protestant nation and more rebellious to boot”. So now we have someone to blame for all the traffic disruption in London caused by the Pope’s visit. Damn you Shakespeare! But on the plus side, Shakespeare has contributed hugely to Britain’s cultural milieu by giving us a reason to visit Stratford-on-Avon, the phrase “blinking idiot”, and (most importantly) a reason for Oriana to get together and sing in St Martin-in-the-Fields on October 14th. We will be singing settings of Shakespeare songs from many and varied composers, and trying hard not to feel like blinking idiots as we “cookoo”, “bubble bubble” and “miao” through them.

We were cookooing and miaoing a lot on Wednesday as we were practicing Applebaum’s versions of the “Witches Song” from MacBeth and “Spring” from Love’s Labours Lost. Those of you who read the blog fervently every week (and apologies for the lack of blog last week by the way – I was having “technical difficulties”) will remember that last time we were practicing Mäntyjärvi’s version of the “Witches Song”. So I was musing a lot this week, in the quiet moments when David-the-Conductor was busy yelling at the other sections of the choir, which of these settings Shakespeare himself would prefer. Do you suppose he’d be swayed by Mäntyjärvi’s blend of Finnish folk and traditional choral sound, or would he prefer Applebaum’s “strongly tonal, though tinged with a jazz sensibility” style of music? Given Shakespeare’s modernist rock-star bent I was leaning very much towards the latter. But then I read Applebaum’s website, where he describes his music in a slightly smug manner as “somewhat challenging for amateurs to learn”. This distinctly put me off him, so I began trying to make a case for Mäntyjärvi. There aren’t many connections between Shakespeare and Finland but what the hell, I can easily make some up. Did you know Shakespeare was half Finnish? Fact!* This is why Hamlet was set in Elsinore, which is almost in Finland (if you ignore Denmark, Sweden and the Baltic Sea – and who among us doesn’t?). And Ophelia was a moomin as well. So the case is clear; Shakespeare would have enjoyed Mäntyjärvi’s Finnish-inflected “Witches Song” the most. Take that Applebaum and your complicated music for amateurs!

You can of course judge for yourself by coming along on October 14th – I believe we will even have score cards for you!

*Not true at all.

New Season - read all about it! Oh, you can't.

It is a season of mystery and endless possibility! You may have noticed that as yet we have no details of our new season on the website. “But why?” I hear you cry, in your eagerness to get booking tickets for our performances. Because once again Oriana is in negotiations to perform at some interesting and currently secret events! “What could they be, pray tell!” I hear you plead. But we cannot. For we are sworn to secrecy. And even if we weren’t, negotiations are ongoing so the programme isn’t completely finalised. And even if it was, our webmaster has left the choir and we’ve just discovered no-one else knows how to update the season schedule. Ooops.

But anyway, take it from me, we have some corking events coming up this season. And first up is our Shakespeare themed concert at St Martin in the Fields on October 14. We started work on some of the more complicated pieces on Wednesday night, including Four Shakespeare Songs by Mantyjarvi. These are my favourite pieces on the programme, with really exciting dissonant clashes. But we were struggling against the natural desire to resolve them into consonance. “No no no!” David-the-Conductor kept shouting. “It’s all sounding too nice!” We managed to nasty it up a bit by the end, but we all definitely need to work on our vicious streak for next week. Weirdly, the bit we struggled with the most was stamping our feet at the end of the Witches Song. You’d think one nice clean unison stamp wouldn’t require much skill, but we were rubbish at it! It sounded like someone had knocked over the kitchen cabinet. “No, no, it’s one, two, and STAMP on three” instructed David-the-Pianist (David-the-Conductor having been briefly whisked off to a top secret meeting). We all carefully watched him beat the time, but counting to three still proved beyond us on the first attempt. It wasn’t long before we’d managed to nail it though. “One, two, STAMP!” we proudly demonstrated. What progress! Next week we’ll move on to “Heads, shoulders, knees and toes”.

Last Night of the Season

After a long year we have finally arrived at the Last Night of the Season. Sadly we didn’t finish with Land of Hope and Glory and Jerusalem, but we did imbibe enough wine to make the last night of the Proms look like a nun’s day out. I had two glasses of prosecco at the break and giggled like a 5-year-old through the entire second half. It wasn’t my fault though, the altos were making me laugh. And the tenors. And basses.

We had lots to celebrate though, so the wine was totally appropriate. It’s been a season packed with concerts, two successful tours, a huge variety of music, and venues ranging from Abbey Road studios to the O2 arena. Along the way we’ve made new friends, discovered new music, fallen in love with some pieces (Martin Mass – superb!) and developed trenchant hatred for others (No 5 in Gardner’s A Burns Sequence - I can’t even say the title for the violent shuddering it induces, but it rhymes with “Oh Missel and I’ll Thumb to Ye”). What a great season, let’s hope next year will be even better!

As every minute of rehearsal time counts in Oriana, we spent this final rehearsal running through the music for the first concert of next season. This will be a repeat of a concert we did a year ago, themed on Shakespeare, so those of us who’ve been in the choir for a while already know the music pretty well. I was delighted to have another go at the Mantyjarvi “Lullaby”, which I just love, and also Vaughan Williams’ Three Shakespeare Songs. The low point was a revisitation of the composer I love to hate – yes, good old Gardner again! I’m only just getting over the horror of A Burns Sequence, but you’ll be delighted to know he wrote A Shakespeare Sequence as well. His Shakespeare songs are for female voice only, and as always with Gardner I really like some and can’t stand the others. We really struggled with O Mistress Mine during last year’s concert, and we made an absolute dogs breakfast of it again on Wednesday night. “That’ll need some work” said David-the-Conductor, with impressive understatement. I’ll happily give it some work, with a hatchet. The men rescued us by entertaining us with a lovely version of a Washburn song (sorry, I’ve forgotten which one, it was late and I was too busy giggling to take notes). And we finished with Appelbaum’s Witches Blues (meow!), a rousing chorus to send us off for the summer.

As there won’t be any choral activity now until September the blog is hereby suspended so it can go on virtual holiday to a cyber-beach. We’ll be back in the first week of September, so thanks for reading these past few months, and hope to see you in the autumn!

End of season concert success

Our final concert of the season took place last night, and a very good time was had by all! Except possibly the cellist we hired. If you were at the concert you may have had some problems spotting the cellist, but I promise you he was there. He was supposed to be playing continuo for the Monteverdi, along with our usual rehearsal accompanist David-the-Pianist on fake harpsichord. But during the afternoon rehearsal we realised the choir weren’t able to hear the accompanying instruments, so we were struggling to remain in tune with them. We’re usually pretty good at keeping the pitch up during concerts, but we decided on balance that it would just be too excruciating for the audience if we got it wrong, and at the 11th hour David-the-Conductor cut the continuo altogether. David-the-Pianist, who is used to the choir’s freewheeling nature, accepted this with aplomb and joined the bass section instead. The cellist however didn’t feel able to sing, so he ended up (I kid you not) playing the wobbleboard during “Cloudburst”. We must be the only choir in the world that hires professional cellists to play percussion.

The concert went really pretty well. The first half was excellent – the Monteverdi was glorious, When David Heard was magical (even though we ran out of time to practice it, so some of the newer members of the choir were miming!) and we finished with Whitacre’s “Cloudburst” which has to be the most fun piece to perform. Which is lucky, as we had to do it all over again at the end of the concert for recording purposes. David-the-Conductor explained to the audience that we were redoing it because of some technical difficulties with the recording equipment. I have a sneaking suspicion that he had smoothly substituted the term “technical difficulties” for “the damn choir were all over the shop”, but I may just be being paranoid. Certainly we got a passage wrong that we have never got wrong before, but from outside I think it just sounded like extra dissonance – and lets face it, you can never have too much of that in 20th century music. So actually, we improved on the original. The audience was lucky to witness it!

The second half was our Monteverdi and Lauridsen Madrigals Mash-up, which went pretty well - although we were definitely all breathing palpable sighs of relief whenever we turned to the Lauridsen pieces, which we know much better. And we finished with Whitacre’s “Leonardo Dreams” which is another really fun piece. The concert was the first time that we’d ever managed to sing the piece all the way through, and to our delight it went really well. We then did a quick encore of a few “Animal Crackers”, got “Cloudburst” wrong again, and made a sharp exit to the pub. Phew – I think we got away with it!