They can only do it once a night

There was a lot of giggling at last night's rehearsal, most of it during the attempt to get the men to sing "Komm" with a suitably seductive initial consonant. I have to admit that the idea of a long k is new to me, but that certainly seemed to be what our German coach was asking for a few weeks ago, so I will continue to try. I don't think I've managed it yet - I think the sound I'm coming out with is more of a gurgle - but there's still time to improve!

There's definitely room for improvement when it comes to the spatial awareness of the 1st altos. For Mahler 8 we're sitting in a formation which we've never used before (as far as I can recall) - the men are on the conductor's left (basses on the end and then tenors), followed by altos in the middle (2nds next to the tenors, then 1sts next to the sops) and sops on the right (2nds next to the altos and 1sts on the end). (The reason for this formation is that we're one of two choirs, and the other choir will mirror our formation so that all the men from both choirs will be together in the middle.) When I arrived last night, there were no 2nd altos there yet, but quite a few 1sts... and they were all sitting to the LEFT of the halfway point (as viewed from the conductor's position). They had obviously decided that the sopranos needed more chairs than all the rest of the choir combined. (There aren't THAT many sopranos - in fact, for quite some time now, 1st alto has been the most numerous section!) And as if that wasn't bad enough, they had only left ONE seat on the front row for the 2nd altos. (We've been insisting, this year, that we always have a wedge of 2nd altos, with several on the front row. Until we put our collective foot down, the 1st altos usually took up the whole front row of the alto section, leaving all the 2nds to sit at the back. And it's not that we object to sitting at the back in general - it's just that there are three times as many 1sts as 2nds (sometimes four times as many) and we just can't be heard unless there are at least some of us at the front.)

I'm amused, by the way, that two different conductors have recently realised - only after months of working with us - that there are far more 1st altos than 2nds, and when they've said "do we need to do something about this?" we all reacted with a resounding "NO!" I found it quite telling that they didn't notice from listening to us - it was only when they asked for a show of hands that the discrepancy in numbers was obvious :-)

I *am* jealous of the 1st altos for one thing, though, and I only noticed it last night. They have the best note in the whole of Mahler 8! Right at the end (figure 217) all the singers are on a fortissimo chord - with a crescendo - very high in the voice. In the third bar of figure 217, the chord continues, louder than ever... but one part MOVES. Admittedly the two alto soloists are singing in unison with the 1st altos, so they move too... but no-one else does. That's such a good - and IMPORTANT - note that if it were up to me, I would suggest that all the 2nd altos sing 1st, just for those three bars - the B flat in the 2nd alto part is well-covered by the basses and 2nd tenors, and the altos are likely to be drowned by everyone else (look at what STB and all the soloists are doing!) unless they use all the power they have available. (And yes, if you're being picky, the 1st basses and 2nd tenors do change notes when they go into the third bar of 217 - but they only change to a note which was already in the previous chord. It's the note that the 1st altos sing that makes it a whole different chord.)

I'd get the 2nd altos to switch back to their own part for the last two notes, though, because NO-ONE else has a B flat in the last chord. Although, once you realise what the orchestra - with full organ - is doing at that point, you'll see that it will make very little difference what note the 2nd altos are singing :-)

I had an interesting journey home after the rehearsal - it took almost three hours. (I live 17 miles from the rehearsal venue.) Usually I get a lift with Alison, who lives very near where I do, but she's on holiday this week, so I was on public transport. I really don't mind using public transport, because it gives me the chance to read and/or listen to podcasts etc. - it does take a bit longer at times, but I do have time to spare at the moment! Last night, the bus back into town was bang on time, so there was no problem there - as usual, a couple of choir members stopped to offer me a lift into town, but I always say no, because my train isn't till 2228, so if I got a lift I'd have to sit on a cold bench at Victoria Station for almost an hour, whereas if I get the bus I still get there with half an hour to spare, but I have a warm bus seat until then.

Last night, there was a platform change for the 2228, so I wandered across to platform 3. The train turned up at about quarter past, and I went to get on at the rearmost door as usual (because that's where the exit is when I get off). As I got on, the driver and guard got off (at the same door), deep in conversation. I sat down and got re-engrossed in my book. A while later, the train started to move... in the wrong direction. This was a little offputting, and it was only at this point that I realised that the carriage was totally empty apart from me, which is unheard of for any of the trains on my line. I realised that the train must have split, and the other carriages formed the 2228 to Leeds, whereas the carriage I was in was heading to the depot. Great. You'd think that the guard and driver (who saw me get on) might have mentioned that, wouldn't you? Or that the new driver would check there was no-one on his train before he drove it to the depot? *sigh*

Anyway, the depot turned out to be only a few minutes away, and the driver emerged from his carriage and looked at me in bemusement. He asked how I'd got on the train, and didn't seem to believe me when I said I'd entered through the door.... I asked how I could get back to Victoria, and he said that the only way was for him to reverse the train to there. And, after a brief phone call to his controller, that's what he did. Needless to say, the 2228 had gone by then, so I had to sit on a cold bench for ages ANYWAY, because the next (and last) train wasn't till 2320. By the time I got home I was frozen, but oddly cheerful - I never mind having a prolonged amount of time in which to read, and there is no-one who cares what time I get home (or even whether I do). (This depresses me if I let myself think about it, so I distract myself by reading!)

So, some links to entertain you after I've sent you all to sleep with my train trauma! The Mahler in Manchester series can still do no wrong - it was Mahler 6 the other night, with the BBC Phil, and the reviews are great: Telegraph, MEN, Times, FT, and Guardian. Oh, and the Radio 3 broadcasts start on Monday and continue weekly: Mahler 1 (BBC Phil) is on 5th April at 7pm, which suggests that our Mahler 2 will be on 12th, and Mahler 8 on 24th May. But you know what the BBC are like for interrupting series!

It turns out the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain were at the Lowry on Sunday. I would have loved to have seen them - they were great at the Proms, and this concert sounds as if it was great fun.

I love this story (on Stephen Hough's blog) of Steven Isserlis trying to get to a concert on time. Hilarious!

Intermezzo brings news that reading about music before listening to it is not always a good thing.

The Guardian has a long, detailed, interesting article about Renee Fleming singing non-classical stuff. You can even listen to the whole album there for free.

Yet more on the thorny question of when applause is appropriate, this time from Ivan Hewett in the Telegraph.

Great post from The Chorister called Am I a bad singer? I would add one thing - if you don't identify with anything in her post, I'm willing to bet you're not as good a singer as you think you are :-)

The all-conquering Gareth Malone has been awarded the Freedom of the City of London. Wouldn't it be great (and VERY convenient) if he felt like moving to Manchester? I think someone should ask him. (Seriously.)

The Guardian's music blog discusses the enduring legacy of Kate Bush.

I've mentioned Shazam a few times - here's an article from Mashable that compares Shazam to other methods of identifying the song in your head.

Chris Rowbury wants to discuss why men won't sing.

Mark Burstow (of the Bournemouth Male Voice Choir) has an interesting post about the difficulties of singing in English.

The Radio 3 blog has the first in a series of posts about life in the BBC Symphony Chorus.

And finally, the teachers among you will like this: a poem by Taylor Mali called What Teachers Make. Very true.