He ain't got long to stay here

People who've sung with me many times may be aware that many of my scores have the letters "GB" written on them at various points. (Sometimes it's "GGB".) "GB" stands for "good bit", and although of course there are lots of good bits in most of the pieces we sing, only a few of them get the written warning. It is a warning, and it's to warn me that that particular bit is likely to give me a lump in my throat and/or a tear in my eye, so I need to try to concentrate really hard to sing properly. (I'm usually OK in rehearsals - it's in the performance that it gets to me.)

Concentration doesn't always work in these circumstances, so there have been quite a few concerts in which I've had to stop singing briefly because my voice was wobbling so much. It's REALLY annoying when this happens, because it means that in many of my very favourite bits, which I've been looking forward to performing, I end up not singing! Dr Liz told me on the way offstage tonight that she never gets tearful when she's singing, just when she's listening. I think I'm the other way round. There aren't many pieces that make me tearful when I hear them (a notable exception is A Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra, in which the entry of the brass at the end reduces me to a quivering wreck every time), but there are loads that make me tearful when I sing them.

I mention all this because I don't remember ever being in a concert that made me tearful as much as tonight's did. I'd been looking forward to it more than I can remember looking forward to any concert in years in any case, and I wasn't disappointed - it was fabulous. True, a few things didn't go according to plan - the sopranos didn't come in at all at the start of We Shall Walk, which was baffling, but the rest of us waited another beat for them, and they DID come in, and the crisis was averted and probably none of the audience noticed. And there were some REALLY stupid people in the audience. I thought my least favourite audience ever was the one we had four times at Christmas, when they would NOT stop coughing, but tonight's annoyed me more. To be fair, it was only a few of them - it was an almost-full house, and the vast majority were perfectly well-behaved. But those few thoughtless idiots totally ruined TWO pieces.

How? They were so desperate to be the first ones to applaud that they not only started the instant the music stopped - before the conductor's arms were lowered, so we never got that wonderful silence before the applause starts. But in two cases they assumed that the piece had ended when it hadn't. The first time was at the end of the Largo from the New World Symphony. The conductor, in his introduction, had really only mentioned two things - that there was a famous cor anglais solo, and that although that was wonderful, his favourite bit was right at the very end, where the double basses end the movement with a 4-part chord. (I never knew this before today, which is a bit of a shock to me because I thought I knew the New World Symphony very well indeed.) Did we hear the 4-part chord? We did not, because the I-want-to-clap-first idiots decided the music had ended in the previous bar, and applauded over the double bass chord. I mean, come ON, people - he TOLD YOU HOW IT ENDED and you still got it wrong!

But it was even worse in the second half, because we started with the Barber Agnus Dei. If you know the piece at all (or the Adagio for Strings, of which it is an adaptation) you can probably guess which is the worst possible moment for people to applaud, and of course that's where they did it - there's a huge climax about 7 minutes into the piece, and after a few moments' silence the music continues with an extremely quiet echo of the same two chords. Of COURSE the idiots applauded in that silence, thinking the climax was the end of the piece, and the quiet echo - the best bit of the piece, on which we'd worked the longest - was totally lost. (If you don't know the piece that well and want to know exactly which bit I mean, listen to this recording - the climax in question is at 6:50.)

After the Barber, there were no other applause-related disasters, so I like to think that the offenders were quietly removed and executed. I was particularly pleased that they didn't spoil my favourite piece in any way. (That was A City Called Heaven, in case you're wondering. But I'll come back to that.) So, having written for longer than I intended about what went WRONG, I suppose I'd better rectify that by talking about what went right, because it really was a FABULOUS concert, and there were many, many things I loved about it.

Fanfare for the Common Man was the first item, and it was awesome, in both senses of the word. I don't think I've ever heard it performed live before, and the sound was just incredible. After that, Lincoln Portrait, which I didn't know at all, was always going to be less impressive in comparison, but it was pleasant enough, and I was very taken with the speaking voice that the bass soloist used - very Darth Vader! I would have loved it if he'd added an extra line to the Gettysburg Address that said "No, Luke. I am your father."

The children's choir then sang At The River. When I saw that on the programme, I hoped it was the Groove Armada song, although I realised that was unlikely.... It turned out to be a hymn, and as usual Wikipedia has a lot of interesting information about it. Anyway, they sang it very well (they're REALLY good!) and I know a few members of the choir did get tearful listening to them, but it didn't move me quite that much, lovely though it was.

Then it was time for Go Down Moses (a.k.a. "the one where the 2nd altos have all the best bits"). The bit that got to me in this one was "let my people go" - every time it came, actually, but particularly the one with no crescendo. Spinetingling. The next piece was "We Shall Walk Through the Valley in Peace" (Moses Hogan arrangement), which I had never heard before a few weeks ago. I really love this piece, and a had a tear in my eye at several places, but mostly the very loud bit near the end where the 1st sops finally had a top G. Someone near me said she found this piece boring, and I suppose I can see what she meant, but I thought it was just wonderful.

I've already mentioned the New World Symphony, but apart from the idiot clappers it was great. It's always been one of my very favourite pieces, and hearing the Largo tonight reminded me how long it's been since I listened to the whole thing, so I'll be doing that very soon. But in the meantime, the last thing in the first half was Songs of Freedom. I love this piece too, but I've been frustrated while we've been rehearsing it because the men never seemed enthusiastic about it. Today, though, they finally sounded as if they were enjoying themselves, and the piece was transformed. And the kids were great too - they'd been practising their hurrahs and were very effective, and of course there was the cute little blond boy (I think he was called Nicholas) who sang a line on his own. He was perfect in rehearsals, but I wondered whether nerves would get to him in the performance - but he was fine. And then, straight after, was Shenandoah.

When we first heard the kids sing this on Wednesday, we all melted (at least, the back row of the altos did). But I still managed (just) to sing our backing vocal part. Tonight I could hardly sing at all - it took me several bars before I could produce even a wobble. Luckily I'd managed to calm down by the time we got to our "Glory Glory Hallelujah" countermelody, although I wasn't helped by the men sounding so amazing in the middle verse!

The train bit was the next part of the medley, i.e. We Are Coming, Father Abraham (I don't think our version included the slightly gruesome last verse!) This has an exciting accelerando as the train picks up speed, but the men never managed to do this convincingly in rehearsals - well, apart from the memorable evening when our choral director conducted them by doing train impressions.... But today they nailed it, and it was great, and then we were into When Johnny Comes Marching Home, in which the kids were again fabulous, and at the very end when they all shouted "HURRAH!" and punched the air in unison, that was when I actually cried briefly, for the first time of the evening. I'm not sure why - my best explanation is that I just LOVED that moment. (I've got a lump in my throat right now just thinking about it!) Just as well it was right before the interval.

After the break was Barber's Agnus Dei, which was sadly ruined by the idiot clappers. Other than that, it went very well, although my breathing seems to go worse each time I do it. At one point on Wednesday I was thrilled that I managed the first line in one breath for the first time ever. But I haven't managed it since, and I never managed it with any of the other lines! Oh well. (And before someone points out that we weren't EXPECTED to sing most of the lines in one breath - I know that, but trust me, we weren't supposed to be breathing as often as I was!)

Then the orchestra played Maple Leaf Rag and The Entertainer. Never heard either played by an orchestra before, although I know the piano originals very well, so that was fun. This was followed by Showboat (Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man (in which the tenors FINALLY did their interjections convincingly) and Ol' Man River. (I haven't mentioned the soloists - Sarah Fox and Robert Winslade Anderson - but they were both great.)

And finally we were up to A City Called Heaven. I mentioned this at the end of my last post - the piece was only written two weeks ago, and it was definitely my favourite thing in the concert. Just gorgeous. I was delighted, too, that the conductor told the audience the story of why he wrote it, as I'd hoped he would (it was in the programme notes too, for good measure). (I looked up Anne Brown's obituary, in case you're interested.) I really wish I had a recording of... well, the whole concert actually, but mainly this. Although I struggled to sing the first page because our choral director called us "his beloved choir" just before we started, and I can't remember the last time I was called "beloved", so I had another lump in my throat!

Next came a bit of (appropriately enough) Porgy and Bess: "Summertime" and "Bess, You is My Woman" - both of which brought the house down - and then the conductor got his own back on the audience by starting the last piece - Battle Hymn of the Republic (Wilhousky arrangement) - while they were still applauding the previous one. It seems this arrangement is very popular in America, but I'd never heard it before we started rehearsing it, and we didn't hear it with the orchestra till Friday. As soon as I did, I knew my mum was going to LOVE it. Not that she wouldn't like the rest of the concert, but we both love march-type things with trumpets and military drums, and this was an extreme example. Such an exciting start, and the end was spectacular - and in the middle the men did another 4-part illustration of how incredible they can sound when they put their minds to it. It was all appropriately glorious.

Applause, applause, applause... and then, the encore. We only found out we were doing this on Wednesday: Steal Away. We've done it before, and know it very well, so the lack of rehearsal wasn't a problem - it sounded great the first time we tried it, so it was just a case of polishing. I was all ready to sing it really well tonight - and then, just before we sang it, he quoted the words: "steal away... I ain't got long to stay here". And I felt like such an idiot for not having made the connection between those words and him leaving, but I hadn't. And once the connection was made, I couldn't get it out of my head, and I had tears running down my face through the whole song, and couldn't sing any of it without my voice wobbling. I don't think I'll ever hear it again without thinking of tonight.

Anyway, I have a few links to share with you, but I think I'll save them for a day or two in the hope that a few reviews appear, and I'll link everything together,

Some people think I'm bonkers, but I just think I'm free

So, the picture above was taken four weeks ago today. It feels SO much longer ago than that. I'm not entirely sure where the time's gone, though, since I've been at home most of the time. But I realised that if I don't write this blog post soon, I'll have forgotten everything about Spain, and my list of links to share will be so long no-one will ever read to the end of it....

Actually it's probably a good thing that I've left it a few weeks before writing, because hopefully it'll help me be more concise. And, most of what I have to say is about the journey rather than the time in Valencia - I spent most of the time there in my room reading. But let's see.

(Note: this will be long anyway, I suspect. If you're not interested in the overland trip to Valencia and back, scroll down to the links!)

We set off as planned on Tuesday 26th May. Nothing much to report between home and London. We walked from Euston to St Pancras and did the obligatory pose with John Betjeman. We considered having champagne until we saw how much it cost. Plan B involved getting wine and nibbles from M&S to eat on Eurostar. Eurostar was very exciting and RIDICULOUSLY fast. I was following our progress on the map on my iPhone, and couldn't believe how fast we whizzed across Kent (or how little of London we saw on the way out - a lot more of the journey was underground than we'd expected). When we emerged in France there wasn't much to see other than fields. Sue eventually became convinced that she could see the Eiffel Tower, but none of the rest of us could. In fact, we didn't see it at any stage (on OR off the train), and we're now convinced it's actually been removed.

We emerged from Eurostar at Gare du Nord. After a lot of faffing about caused by the fact that no-one had any euro coins and the ticket machines didn't take notes, so we had to queue for ages to get Metro tickets, we eventually got on a Metro headed for Gare d'Austerlitz... and it didn't move. Turned out there was a strike on. There were lots of announcements which we couldn't quite hear, and each time, some people got off the train, but most of them stayed on. A helpful local woman advised us to stay on because the train would move eventually, and luckily she was correct.

Plan A, on arrival at Gare d'Austerlitz, where we had several hours to kill before getting the sleeper train to Barcelona, was to put the bags in left luggage and wander up to Notre Dame. However, it turned out this would cost a fortune, so we lugged them with us. It wasn't too bad, at least at first - Alison and Sue and I had large rucksacks, which meant that we ended up with sore shoulders quite soon but could otherwise walk easily, whereas Judy had a wheeled case AND a (small) rucksack, so her shoulders were fine but she was hampered by having to manoeuvre her case. Anyway, we wandered along the river in the vague direction of Notre Dame. On the map it looked as if it was quite close, but the map was deceiving, and we walked for quite a while before we could see it. Sadly we didn't have time to go inside, but it was nice to see the place anyway.

When we got back to Gare d'Austerlitz, we had a quick drink in the station bar before wandering over to look for our train. We were all a bit startled at first to see how very small the compartment was. I'd seen photos on the website, and they were quite accurate, but it felt a lot smaller with four of us in it! It was fine though, and actually it felt roomier when the beds were pulled out, even though it wasn't. There was lots of entertainment due to the fact that the corridors were so narrow you had to squeeze past anyone you met coming the other way. (The train was set up in the old-fashioned way with a narrow corridor running along the carriage and separate compartments opening off it. You know, like the Hogwarts Express.)

We'd planned to have our evening meal on the train, but when we went to investigate, it turned out that there wasn't a table available till 11pm. (The train left at 8.30pm.) This was a bit of a disappointment, because we were quite hungry by then, but there was nothing we could do, so we sat and read for a while until we could eat. When we finally did get into the restaurant, the meal was nice, but VERY overpriced for what it was, and there was very little choice. I must admit that if I'd known how much it was before I'd agreed to eat there, I wouldn't have agreed. However, the setting was amazing, so I'm glad I had one meal in there, even though it used the entirety of the money my mum had given me for the week. (Yes, I know it's ridiculous that the only money I had was what my mum gave me!)

After we ate, it was definitely bedtime - it had been a long day and we were all exhausted. The beds were quite comfortable, but annoyingly I couldn't sleep a wink. I think it was because it was so ridiculously hot. Apparently the air conditioning did kick in at some point, but I was on a bottom bunk and couldn't feel any cool air. So I lay awake all night. I did have my eyes shut, though, so it was quite restful. And I was delighted to realise, at about 5 am, that we must have reached the Spanish border, because I felt them changing the wheels on the train (Spain has a different gauge to France).

We got to Barcelona just in time for breakfast. It was now Wednesday 27th May - the day of the Champions' League Final between Barcelona and Man Utd (in Rome) - so I had put on my United shirt specially :-) I was so pleased I did this, because that morning was great as a result! Wherever I went in the city, people commented on my shirt, and it was a really nice atmosphere. The others were a bit taken aback at how friendly the rivalry was - they'd expected that me wearing my shirt would cause trouble - but I hadn't been worried. Interestingly, the first guy who talked to me was someone who was standing at the entrance to the station when we emerged. I'd been told that when we got to Valencia all the locals hated Barcelona so they'd all support United for the day, but this guy told us that this wasn't the case - if it was Real Madrid against United, everyone in Spain (other than Real Madrid fans) would cheer on United, but Barcelona don't inspire such hatred, so the rest of Spain (other than Real Madrid fans!) would cheer on Barcelona. (And he was correct, at least as far as Valencia fans went.)

We asked this guy where he recommended for breakfast. Turned out there was a cafe/bar right over the road from the station, which he said was perfect, and it was. It had the two vital things I needed at that point: 1. great coffee, and 2. a plug socket so I could charge my phone! (I'd expected there'd be sockets on either Eurostar or the Trainhotel, but there weren't, and my phone had used lots of its charge following our progress on the map.) As a bonus, the TV in the bar was showing nonstop pictures of the buildup in Rome. I like a city that has its priorities right - there was NO more important news in Barcelona that day!

After a leisurely coffee or two, we went in search of the metro station, where a very helpful member of staff confirmed the cheapest way of doing what we wanted to do. I was very impressed with the Barcelona metro system - it was clean and efficient and air-conditioned, and the stations had arty things on the walls, and even the muzak was cool - at one point there was a jazzy version of Tea for Two which we were quite taken with. It took a couple of trains to get to Sagrada Familia (the main place we all wanted to see). Eventually we came up the steps, and... WOW! The initial view of the place is absolutely mindblowing, and it just gets better after that.

We all wanted to go round and look, but we still had the problem of the bags (the left luggage at the station was closed, and the nearest alternative was miles away, so we had to keep everything with us). But it all worked out fine, because Sue and I were quite keen to sit and have a rest before going round the cathedral, whereas Alison and Judy wanted to go immediately. So Sue and I sat with the bags while they went in, with the plan being that we'd go in when they came out. As it turned out, they were longer than we'd expected and we didn't have time, but it wasn't a problem, because we knew we had time to kill on our return journey. It did mean we didn't see much else in Barcelona, but we'd never expected to, so none of us minded.

While Sue and I were waiting, we took turns popping off for a quick wander round the square. I bought some postcards and attempted to buy some stamps. In Spain you get them from tobacconists (if they don't have any where they sell postcards) but the first few places I asked said they didn't have any. The next place I tried said they DID have stamps, but couldn't possibly sell them to me because of my shirt. I couldn't work out whether or not they were joking, but they didn't give me any stamps! I got some in the end though, from a lady who had just finished wrapping up a Barcelona football shirt for a customer. That resulted in another good conversation :-)

Sue and I had a great time examining the outside of Sagrada Familia. I think it's the most amazing building I've ever seen. Only St Peter's in Rome comes close. I could tell you all the things we saw, but there are probably millions of places online that will do it better. (If you're interested, you should probably start with the official site.) Most unexpected thing we saw in the architecture: probably the bassoon. Really.

Anyway, when Alison and Judy emerged we went for lunch nearby. It was at this point that I cursed things by saying - out loud, in front of witnesses - that it was the best day I could remember having in years. Note to self: if you ever have another day as good, do NOT say so. Because before our lunch had even arrived, Judy's rucksack had vanished. She retraced her steps just in case, but was adamant all along that she'd had it when we got to the café, so it must have been stolen while we were sitting there. She seemed amazingly unruffled by this, saying that it didn't really matter because most of her stuff was in her case and everything valuable was in her handbag, but even so I would have been much more upset than she was. (In fact I *was* quite upset, because I felt as if I'd cursed the day. Yes, I know that's irrational.)

Despite this setback, we had a lovely lunch. All morning there had been people in Barcelona shirts all over the place. They vanished, of course, at the precise moment that we decided it would be nice to get a photo of one of them with me in my United shirt. But a while later, one did appear, so I hurtled across the street and accosted him. He seemed quite amused, and didn't mind being dragged across to our table to be photographed. (That's the photo at the top of this post.) When the waiters saw this, they wanted to be photographed as well, but they weren't wearing Barcelona shirts so it seemed like a good idea to wrap my United scarf round them. (See photo below.)

Eventually we got back on the metro to head back to Estació de França, and the curse struck again. There was a minor incident on the train that I didn't really see clearly, but it looked as if Judy was being pushed by someone. I'd forgotten about it by the time we got off, until Judy realised that her purse had been taken out of her handbag. This upset her a lot more than the loss of the rucksack an hour or two earlier, because there was a lot of money in it.

We'd seen a place we thought might be a police station, so Judy went in there to ask what to do. Turned out it was a Foreign Office type place, and they couldn't do much, but they did call the police in Valencia to explain what had happened, so that it would be easier for Judy to report there the next day.

After that, we got to the station. We were in plenty of time for the train to Valencia, so we sat on a bench and waited for our train to appear on the board. There was a train listed at the correct time, but the departure board didn't go into much detail, and didn't mention where ANY of the trains stopped (other than their final destination) so we weren't sure whether that train was ours.

It goes without saying that when a day is cursed, it's cursed three times... because with (I think) twenty minutes to go before the train left, we found out that that train (the only one at the correct time) was NOT our train... because our train went from Barcelona Sants instead of Estació de França! I felt terrible. This was entirely my fault. I'd been the one who'd booked all the tickets and told the others the arrangements. I thought I'd double checked everything, but I hadn't been thorough enough. (Some trains to Valencia DO go from França, but not the one our tickets were for.) The thing is, because Alison had paid for all the tickets, I gave them all to her when they arrived, so I didn't have the actual ticket to look at, or I might have noticed the station name. I can't believe I didn't notice when I *got* the tickets, though - I suspect I must have assumed that "Sants" was some sort of abbreviation.

Anyway, the urgent thing was to try to get to Sants in time. We got a cab, and it was obvious that he thought it was unlikely we'd make it, when we told him what the problem was. He did drive pretty fast, but the traffic wasn't good (and at one point there was apparently a naked guy running along the pavement, although I didn't see him!) and we got to the barrier less than a minute after the train was due to leave. Needless to say it had left bang on time.

As Judy later pointed out, if there was ONE train we were going to miss, this was the best one, because there were plenty of trains on that route, and missing ours didn't mean we missed anything else. But the problem was that I knew it would cost us a fortune. The tickets we had were extra-cheap web special offer ones, valid only on that specific train. Judy tried to talk them into letting us use them on the next train, but I knew it would never work - the conditions were very clear - and it didn't. So we had to get new tickets, which cost more than three times as much as the useless ones. And by this point, of course, neither Judy nor I had any money at all. Sue came to the rescue, although there was a bit of a panic when they pointed out that her credit card had expired (luckily she had another one that worked).

The next train was an hour later, and it was possibly the nicest train we'd been on so far (even nicer than Eurostar, and that was quite posh). I was in a black mood by then, though - I just felt so guilty that a simple error of mine had cost everyone so much money, especially because I already had no idea when I'd be able to pay the others back for the REST of the journey. I managed to distract myself a bit with Harry Potter - I'd taken all seven books with me to reread, and I think I was up to book 4 by this point. Harry always cheers me up, so I was in a better mood by the time we arrived (again, bang on time, like all our trains so far). I was quite surprised that the others still trusted me to know which way to go to get to the hotel, but they did, and in this case their trust wasn't misplaced, because it was fairly easy to find. (I'd loaded lots of maps onto my phone - it would have been easier to use the GPS map, but that involves going online, which is only free in the UK.)

We finally got to the hotel at about 7.30 pm, I think. All I wanted to do was sit down, shower (preferably while sitting down), rest my feet, rest my SHOULDERS (the weight of our bags had become a big issue by then) and eat and drink. But most of these were not an option. Why not? CHAMPIONS' LEAGUE FINAL! Kickoff was at 8.45 pm. I'd arranged to meet Claire and her husband, who'd agreed to find somewhere good to watch the match from. She'd texted me to tell me where they were, but when I looked on the map my heart sank, because it was even further from the hotel than the station was, and I knew THAT took ages. So I had the fastest shower ever, got half changed (only half, because there was no way I wasn't putting that United shirt back on, however sweaty it was... if I'd thought ahead properly, I would have brought two! I've GOT two!) and went straight out again. It's fair to say I was hobbling a bit - I suspected I had some blisters, but hadn't had time to look properly.

I made it to the bar JUST in time - the match kicked off just after I walked through the door - but I missed the first few minutes while I wandered through the bar looking for Claire, with no success. I texted her to ask where she was, but shortly afterwards she appeared at the door and took me to another bar nearby - they'd decided it was less crowded. It was indeed less crowded - but only a couple of minutes after I got there, Barcelona scored. Things went downhill from there, as I'm sure you're aware. United had only played well in the first ten minutes, and they eventually lost 2-0, and we couldn't claim they didn't deserve to lose.

It was an experience watching the game in a bar full of Spanish fans, who were cheering for Barcelona whether or not they were actually Barcelona fans, but the atmosphere was friendly. Ro and I shouted sporadically, which amused them. (Les, Claire's husband, was too annoyed with the performance to get excited about it, and Claire herself wasn't watching.) (I actually tend to squeak rather than shout, when I'm watching football.)

By the time the game ended, I was REALLY hungry, having had nothing to eat since lunch, but I had no money till I could get my per diem thingy, so it couldn't be helped. I think it actually helped that there were no seats in the bar and another long walk back to the hotel, because by the time I got back my feet and legs were aching so much that I was more bothered about getting into bed and not having to move for eight hours than about getting any food. Also, I hadn't slept a wink the previous night on the train, and I'd only slept for an hour or so the night BEFORE that, so it was definitely bedtime.

Next morning: concert day! It seemed a bit surreal that after all that travelling and non-musical activity, it was so soon. But more important things came first, name ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT BREAKFAST and HANDING OUT OF MONEY. Hurrah! Food at last!

I think I went back to my room to read, after breakfast. My legs and shoulders were still aching, and I had definite blisters on my feet. And in any case I'd planned to stay in a lot - it's the best way of not spending any money. I'd decided that I could probably survive till I got home on the handout money, but this plan was based on eating as much as possible at breakfast and putting bread and fruit aside for lunch.

At lunchtime we all wandered over to the Palau de la Musica to rehearse. It's a lovely place - actually even lovelier than I thought, because I didn't walk all the way round it, and when I saw Alison's photos I wished I had. The rehearsal was fine - I was about to tell you about my favourite moment of the whole trip, but I think that was in the SECOND rehearsal (just before we went onstage) so I'll get to it shortly. The acoustic in the hall was a bit weird and it was very hard to keep to the beat until we got used to it.

I went back to read some more between rehearsal and concert, although we did go for a wander to the supermarket at some point to get snacks to keep us going till after the concert. By the time it was concert o'clock, I was already melting - I really, really hate the heat. But I forgot about it when I got inside the Palau de la Musica, because there was fabulous air conditioning, and then our choral director gave one of his inspiring speeches (I can't remember a thing he actually said now, but I know I was really inspired at the time!) and then, during the warmup/rehearsal, there was an absolutely magical moment which was my highlight of the whole trip, and which I've been trying to describe to people since.

This will sound a bit odd if you weren't there, but bear with me. It was the "ich harrete" bit, where the men sing the tune and the two soprano soloists sing backing vocals. The men knew the tune, and they were singing it in tune and with the correct pronunciation. There was nothing wrong with it at all - it sounded great - and I suspect that most other choral directors would have said "well done" and moved on. But not ours. He DID say "well done". But he wanted more. He wanted the men to sing the tune as if they were all soloists.

Now, just think about that for a moment. It's an absolutely tiny alteration that he was looking for. So tiny that it's difficult to put into words exactly what he meant (well, any words other than what I've already used). It's SUCH a tiny alteration that you'd be forgiven for not believing it would be possible for anyone to tell the difference, even if the men DID succeed in doing what was requested.

And yet.

Here's how he got what he wanted: He told them to all sing that passage together, but not TRYING to be together. They were to all sing as soloists, and as long as they all sang at roughly the right speed, it didn't matter (for the purpose of the exercise) that the rhythm was lost. He did not clarify exactly how it WAS going to work.

Well, it took a minute before they all worked out what he meant, but then they set off. He didn't conduct them at all, after starting them off. Of course, within a few seconds there was just a huge wash of sound, and no words or rhythm were audible, just mushed-up notes. The ladies looked at each other, amused, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one wondering how on earth this was going to help ANYTHING. It sounded totally ridiculous.

But then... the miracle. (Or, if you like, the proof of genius. I know which explanation I believe.) With no other input - from anyone other than the men themselves - the sound changed. Gradually we realised that it DIDN'T sound totally ridiculous; it was the best sound I've ever heard the men make. I had shivers down my spine, because they DID suddenly sound like a load of soloists. It was wonderful. By the end of it I had a big goofy grin on my face through the sheer joy of listening to that sound. We gave them a round of applause, and we were not just being polite.

In the concert, that bit didn't sound QUITE as magical as it did when they sang it without a beat... but it definitely sounded better. Which was the point, after all. I really hope that experience sticks with them until we sing at the Proms - I can't wait to hear that bit again!

The whole concert went really well, actually. We got a standing ovation at the end, which was lovely. (We often get a few people standing in Manchester, but it's extra special when it's an audience that doesn't know us, and presumably didn't include many family or friends.)

After the concert, Alison and I went out for food. We actually ended up in an Italian restaurant, which was not our intention, but it was very nice and we ate far too much. We decided to walk it off afterwards - Alison wanted to see the cathedral, and I knew where it was (because the bar where I'd met Claire was very near there) and we were at that side of town anyway, so we had a bit of a wander. The most impressive thing we saw wasn't actually the cathedral (which wasn't lit very well, so we couldn't see much of it) but an absolutely enormous tree in the middle of a square. We did find out later what sort of tree it was - it was mentioned in that guidebook that was in the hotel room - but I've forgotten now. (Here's what it looked like, though. That's me sitting on it.)

Friday was a free day, and in the morning we walked up to the City of Arts and Sciences, passing the opera house on the way. Both were spectacular. (I've only just found out that the opera house has had its problems. Seem amazing - it looks absolutely perfect now.) We did go inside the science museum bit of the City of Arts and Sciences, but I didn't find the inside as impressive as the outside, sadly (although they did have Spider-Man, which is always a good thing). Afterwards, we had some orxata (tigernut squash, a local delicacy) because a friend of Alison's had told her it was unmissable. Well, it was OK, but I don't think I'd rave about it.

We'd decided we had to find some authentic paella for lunch. This turned out to be UNBELIEVABLY difficult. I know there were paella places near the hotel, and out past the Palau de la Musica. But there were NONE near the City of Arts and Sciences - at least, if there were, they were well hidden. We looked all over the place. There were loads of restaurants, but none served paella! Eventually we decided to head back to the hotel from the place we'd got to (which was quite a way away), and if we didn't find any paella on the way, we'd give up. Well, we did find some in the end, but we were almost all the way back to the hotel before we did.

After all that walking, my blisters were playing up again, so I stayed in my room reading (and brilliantly not spending any money!) for the rest of the day and evening. (No doubt some of you will feel sorry for me, but I'm very used to my own company and was very happy to do this, so don't worry. I love to sit and read. If I sit and read at home, I'm always aware there's something else I really ought to be doing instead. I loved reading without the guilt!)

The next morning was the start of the long (but exciting) journey home. It was a lot less eventful than the outward journey, so it won't take as long to tell. Let's see... The lovely Graham agreed to squeeze the five books I'd finished into his suitcase so I didn't have to carry them. That fact made the journey home a million times easier - my shoulders hadn't really recovered from the outward journey! My only remaining concern was whether the last two Harry Potter books would last me until I got home. (I'm a very fast reader anyway, but even faster when it's a book I've read several times before.)

Sue and Judy didn't want to walk to the station, so they paid for a cab for all of us, which was nice. We were in plenty of time, and definitely at the right station! It's a gorgeous station, as well. Alison was very frustrated because she hadn't brought the charger for her camera, and it had died, so she couldn't take photos of the fantastic architecture. (That's why the last few photos are all mine, you see.) Sue and I sat on a bench, and our weight made the other end lift up, which amused the extremely cute guy who was sitting there, which in turn amused me enough to make me determined to get a photo of him - and I did (see below).

The train actually left about fifteen minutes late (the only one of all our trains that wasn't bang on time) but it had made up the time before Barcelona, so all was well. We arrived at Sants station and got the metro to Sagrada Familia, where Sue and I went inside - and were blown away by how amazing it was - while Judy and Alison stayed with the bags. We confused ourselves because we'd assumed that the bench we'd sat on on Wednesday was the same as the bench they sat on on Saturday, but it turned out it was in a whole different garden on the opposite side of the cathedral. However, it was while discussing this that it turned out Judy and Alison had missed one entire face of the cathedral as a result of similar confusion, so we won! Highlight of the day, though, was Sue looking at the architecture and suddenly shouting out "There's the cock!" It was probably funnier if you were there :-)

We had lunch nearby again - same road, different café - and then got the metro back to Estació de França and went to the Bar with the Plug Sockets (it probably had a different name but I forget what!) Sue and I sat and people-watched (and bag-watched) and had sangria, while Judy and Alison went to see Las Ramblas. I'd been told all sorts of other places that I should visit, but going anywhere else on the metro would have cost money I didn't have, and I didn't have the energy - or the unblistered feet - to walk far, so I volunteered to stay with the bags, and Sue liked the idea of just sitting and having a drink, so everyone was happy. Hopefully I'll go back to Barcelona one day. (I'll have to, I didn't even see Camp Nou!)

Alison and I had decided we weren't going to have another meal on the trainhotel, so we went to a nearby shop and bought supplies to sustain us till the next day. It was still ridiculously hot, so we got ice creams too. EXCELLENT plan, because when we got on the trainhotel it was soon as hot as last time. There was a bit of tension, too, because Sue had bought her ticket a day after the rest of us, and that meant she'd ended up in a different compartment on the return journey because someone else had already bought the fourth place in our compartment. Sue was hoping to persuade whoever it was to swap, but as it turned out we never even saw her. We saw her partner a few times, and I don't know what he'd sorted out, but the gist of it was that if we didn't mind keeping their suitcase in our compartment, Sue could stay with us, so it all worked out well.

Sue and Judy went for their meal (again, they couldn't get in before 11 pm), and while they were eating, at about midnight, we crossed the border into France, and the wheels were presumably changed again. I say "presumably" because Alison and I were trying hard to see exactly what was going on, but we couldn't be sure. We definitely stopped for ages, and they were doing SOMETHING, but we couldn't see what. When I witnessed whatever it was on the way south, I was sure the train tilted when they did it, but it didn't this time. Maybe it felt different because I was lying down? Anyway, this time it felt more as if they lifted the whole train up and then lowered it again, but I couldn't be sure.

Sue and Judy returned not long afterwards, and we all went to sleep. Well, we tried - Sue fell asleep with her light on, and I can't sleep with lights on. We were both in top bunks this time, so if I'd climbed over to wake her, I suspected I would have woken the others as well. So I had the brilliant idea of throwing things at her till she woke up, and the best things seemed to be screwed up (but unused) tissues. She did wake up eventually, and turned the light off at my request and went straight back to sleep. She was very amused when I explained to her (in the morning) why her bed was covered with screwed up tissues, because she didn't remember the incident at all!

We got to Paris in time for Sunday breakfast. The others wanted to go for a wander and have breakfast somewhere outside the station. I figured that inside the Gare d'Austerlitz was still in Paris, and it involved no walking, and my blisters were STILL sore, so I insisted on staying with the bags and had breakfast on my own on the station. (I had the last laugh, because the café they went to didn't have enough croissants for all of them!) I enjoyed people-watching - in particular, there was a large samba band that was obviously meeting up to go by train to a festival somewhere, and every time an extra one turned up, there were flamboyant greetings all round. I was also quite taken with the station announcement jingle, which had a sultry jazz-type female voice singing "da da da da" (to C G Ab Eb) before every bit of information.

When the others got back, we got the Metro to Gare du Nord, and had a coffee while waiting for our Eurostar to be announced. The trip back under the Channel was as incident-free as the trip the other way, and in no time at all we were back at St Pancras and it was time to split up. Alison was going off to Glyndebourne before she went home, and I was booked on a different train home to Sue and Judy. I'd hoped to meet up with friends, because I had several hours to kill before my train (it was cheaper to go later), but they had other plans in the end, so I did a bit more reading. That meant that I'd slightly miscalculated the number of books I needed, because I finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on Euston Station an hour before my train left. But all was well, because I have free internet access on my phone, so I read some books online. I finally got home just before 11 pm on Sunday 31st May, very keen to see my cats. Slightly less keen to find that my mum (who'd been catsitting) had accidentally unplugged the fridge and freezer at some point, but there was hardly any food in either anyway, and she'd cleaned the house for me, so I came out of it all pretty well!

You can see all my photos - and even more of Alison's (which are much better, because she had a proper camera and a steadier hand!) online here. But, in case you can't be bothered to look, my favourites (other than the one at the top of this post) are below. The first is us having lunch near Sagrada Familia. (That's where the top picture was taken, too.) The second is the two waiters with me and Alison, wearing my scarf (they were very amused by that). The last picture was taken on Valencia station on the morning we left. It may appear to be a photo of Sue, but I was actually trying to get the very cute guy who was sitting on the bench with us :-)





Anyway, the aforementioned million links, in no particular order:

Here's the Times review of our Valencia gig.

It turns out there's a great blog about life in Valencia - Hola Valencia. Sadly I only found out they existed while we were actually there, because they contacted me via Twitter. If I'd known earlier I would have got them to come to our concert! But do look through the blog - there are some great pictures.

Oh, and coincidentally Valencia is coming to Manchester in August! Do go to the game if you can. Valencia CF is a very good team (they finished 6th in La Liga) but they have huge financial problems at the moment, and presumably this friendly is part of their plan to make some money.

Sting talks about songwriting and school music lessons.

Via ChoralNet, a very powerful welcome address given to new music students in Boston by Karl Paulnack. He talks about the power of music, particularly after September 11th.

There are pianos being left in public places all over London at the moment. Someone from the Guardian went to play one.

The BBC Music Magazine compares the musical heritage of Barcelona and Manchester.

The new version of Sibelius (version 6) allows you to input music (to produce a printed score) by singing directly into the computer. Can't wait to try this, but it'll be a while before I can. In the meantime, version 5 does everything I really need it to, so I can be patient.

On 14th June there was a World Busk Day. They even had the first ever buskers in Antarctica. Yet somehow none of this was in the mainstream news, unless I missed it. Bizarre.

If you've ever played Rock Band, you'll be looking forward to the forthcoming Beatles Version. Most exciting part? If you watch the trailer all the way through, you'll realise that it has not just one vocal line but THREE DIFFERENT ONES. So people who can sing harmony parts - and stick to them - will have a decided advantage!

A brief Guardian editorial about office choirs.

The Spectator talks more about Spotify, which I mentioned a while ago. If you haven't signed up yet, I recommend you do!

Also in the Spectator, a piece about songs that you don't like as much as you used to.

Via Finite Attention Span, a fabulous audio story about postal workers in Ghana.

You may remember that I have written about Whit Friday in the past. This year's was on 5th June, and it was the wettest one I can remember. It was still great, though. If you know a band which was involved, look them up on the Saddleworth results and the Tameside results. And put Whit Friday 2010 in your diary - it's on 28th May.

BBC Sport lists their favourite football chants of the season.

Did you all watch the Cardiff Singer of the World? I enjoyed it, but that's probably because I didn't attempt to watch it live - I recorded it all so that I could fast forward through the interview and chat bits, which I really hate (in general, not just on this programme). As usual I was disappointed that there were no altos and hardly any mezzos, and I was annoyed that there was a counter-tenor in the final (I don't like counter-tenors at all), although he was quite good. I was also annoyed that so many of the arias were repeated so often - the baritones were the worst for this. I got very sick of Largo al factotum and that thing from Don Carlo. I think the right person won, though.

I listened to Götterdämmerung on the radio and enjoyed it a lot more than I expected to. The men sounded fabulous. My favourite bit, though, was the orchestral bit right near the end, and it was a bit I'd heard before but hadn't even realised was Wagner, let alone Götterdämmerung. I worked out that where I'd heard it before was on the soundtrack to Excalibur, at (I think) the bit when Arthur's died and Excalibur has been thrown into the lake, and then the Lady of the Lake holds it up in the air. It's years since I've seen this film, so I might have remembered it wrong. But I'm pretty sure the music I'm talking about accompanies a scene that's something like that. The IMDB soundtrack listing suggests it might be Siegfried's Funeral March; can anyone confirm this? Anyway, the Classical Source has a review that I don't think I'd seen when I listed other reviews.

The Choir of London took Puccini to Palestine.

The Guardian has been running an alphabetical series called School of Rock, which analyses aspects of songs. My favourite so far has been the feature on optimistic songs.

My favourite link of all the ones I'm mentioning today: The BBC Music Magazine reports that the RLPO is trying to claim that our orchestra is not the oldest in Britain. I absolutely love the quote from our chief executive - I laughed out loud for quite a long time when I first read it!

The Guardian is very excited about the forthcoming Elbow concert. They had a preview piece a couple of weeks ago, and now there's a more detailed report about rehearsals.

Here's a thing from BBC News about how singing can help seriously ill people, and another thing about how opera is good for the heart. Oh, and apparently Verdi is better for your heart than Bach. (via Intermezzo)

An interesting thing in the Guardian about the evil that is booking fees.

It seems that Brynfest made a big loss last year and this year's has been cancelled. Very sad.

And, finally, a few non-musical links. The most important is about the Manchester Zombie Walk on Sunday 12th July. Put the date in your diary! Read the comments to the MEN article for a few more details. We should have singing zombies! 4-part harmony!

Star Wars fans - particularly if they also like games - will be excited about the forthcoming Star Wars MMO, called Star Wars: The Old Republic. Watch the trailer - the game looks AMAZING. (Also, like most games, it looks like one I'd be REALLY bad at, but I'd enjoy watching a friend play.)

The Guardian is as enthusiastic as me about the Spanish rail system.

Soup o' th' Day is a new website that lists "what's on in Greater Manchester". I don't really like the layout - it's quite hard to read - but the information is up to date, and may be useful to some of you.

What does the internet think? is a new site that gives a simple answer to a simple question.

And, finally - you'll be aware, I'm sure, that United have allowed Cristiano Ronaldo to leave. Both the Guardian and the MEN describe him as "irreplaceable", and I'm very much afraid they're right, although I hope they're not. I'm particularly worried because my season ticket has now expired, and my heart is broken because I can't afford to renew it. (I couldn't afford it last year either, but there was a miracle - i.e. a well-paid one-off piece of freelance work - at just the right time. This year, there was no such miracle.) The reason I'm WORRIED rather than just upset is that I've had my season ticket for the last three seasons, and we've won the league in all three seasons. We didn't win in the three seasons BEFORE I had a season ticket. So plainly I was the lucky charm, and it's all downhill from here. Oh well.

It occurs to me that I haven't said anything about rehearsals since we got back from Spain, and they've been fabulous - but I have no energy to write in detail now! Short version: we are currently rehearsing for a concert on 4th July, which has an all-American programme that I'm very excited about. There are things we're doing that night that aren't listed on the website - another four things at least, and who knows what else (we only found out about one of the extras last night, and we haven't seen the music for it yet!) In addition to the Barber Agnus Dei (which will be mindblowing, although my breathing feels worse every time we do it) and the Songs of Freedom medley (which I really like, especially after I asked whether we could change a note in the alto part and he agreed!), we're also doing a fun arrangement (involving the audience) of the Battle Hymn of the Republic, plus three spirituals: Go Down Moses (my favourite of the Tippett set, mainly because the 2nd altos have the best part, which NEVER happens); We Shall Walk Through The Valley In Peace (which is just gorgeous, particularly the bass notes) and A City Called Heaven, which is the one we just found out about. Our choral director sang it to us at the end of last night's ladies' sectional, and it was so beautiful I had a tear in my eye. Not sure whether that was because of the song itself, or his singing, or the fact that it was his last ever sectional with us. Probably a combination of all three. But I can't wait to sing it tonight.

Faster than fairies, faster than witches

Early tomorrow morning I will be setting off on a 1400-mile train journey from my house to Valencia. The journey involves five separate trains in each direction, and I am RIDICULOUSLY excited that it's about to happen, having been planning it for so long. My mum has arrived at my house in preparation for her catsitting duties. Really I should start packing, but I have the urge to tell you all the details of the journey (sorry Libby!)

For comparison purposes, I should explain that he main group from the choir is setting off from Manchester Airport at stupid o'clock on Wednesday morning and flying to Alicante, from where they will transfer to Valencia by coach, arriving about 2pm. They are setting off again on Saturday teatime, and will be back in Manchester in the early hours of Sunday. I believe this is costing them about £265 each.

The main reason I started looking for another option was that a deposit had to be paid last autumn, and the rest of the money had to be paid in January. Neither of these was an option for me, so I was encouraged to discover that not only is it possible to make the whole journey by train, but it would be a bit cheaper, and (most importantly) we wouldn't need to pay anything until much nearer the time. As it's turned out, I still don't have any money at all (so I'm EXTREMELY relieved to find out that we will all be given some money for food while we're in Spain - I was quite worried about how I was going to eat!), but luckily I have some nice friends. My fellow altos Alison and Judy and Sue are travelling with me, and the agreement has been that I would do all the investigating and booking etc., and they (well, mainly Alison) would pay for my share on the understanding that I would pay them back when I could. So, I feel a bit guilty that so far I haven't paid anything at all, but I'll feel slightly LESS guilty if it turns out that we get to Valencia with no problems.

It should all be fine - we do have all the tickets, and we know where and when we've got to be at each place. And we will get to spend time in both Paris and Barcelona in both directions, which no-one else will! So, here's my schedule:

OUTWARD:
Tue 26th May
0745 Depart Littleborough
0814 Arrive Manchester Victoria
Walk across city centre
0915 Depart Manchester Piccadilly (Virgin Trains)
1123 Arrive London Euston
Walk or tube to St Pancras
1332 Depart London St Pancras (Eurostar)
1647 Arrive Paris Gare du Nord (Paris is an hour ahead so only 2h15m)
Metro to Gare d'Austerlitz
2032 Depart Paris Gare d'Austerlitz (Trenhotel sleeper)

Wed 27th May
0824 Arrive Barcelona Estaçion de França
1500 Depart Barcelona Estaçion de França (RENFE regional train, along the coast)
1821 Arrive Valencia Estaçion del Norte

RETURN:
Sat 30th May
1000 Depart Valencia Estaçion del Norte (RENFE regional coast train)
1339 Arrive Barcelona Estaçion de França
2105 Depart Barcelona Estaçion de França (Trenhotel sleeper)

Sun 31st May
0900 Arrive Paris Gare d'Austerlitz
Metro to Gare du Nord
1213 Depart Paris Gare du Nord (Eurostar)
1328 Arrive London St Pancras (London is an hour behind so actually 2h15m)
Walk or tube to Euston
1855 Depart London Euston (Virgin Trains)
2111 Arrive Manchester Piccadilly
Walk across city centre
2208 Depart Manchester Victoria
2235 Arrive Littleborough

Total cost: £256. So it's not MUCH less than flying, but in my opinion it's well worth it, mainly because of no-one having to pay anything until much more recently, but also because it will be so EXCITING! The trains themselves will be great (I've always wanted to travel on Eurostar, ever since the tunnel opened) and the chance to spend significant amounts of time in both Paris and Barcelona is just a bonus. Not to mention we get to sing in a concert. Whee!

Anyway, I may as well clear up some links while I'm here.

First, and most importantly, football. (What? You know you were expecting it!) You will no doubt be aware that last year, when United won the league AND the champions' league, there was no victory parade because the council was too scared after Rangers Day. This year, they have relented slightly. They are still insisting that there will never again be any live football on big screens in Manchester, but they have agreed that if - and only if - United beat Barcelona on Wednesday, there will be a parade on Thursday. (I'm sad I'll miss this, but those of you who will be in Manchester may wish to be warned about the road closures.) It does seem a bit mean, though, that if United lose on Wednesday, there will be no parade. If it was any other team in any other city, you can bet there'd be a victory parade if they won ONE trophy, let alone the FOUR trophies that United have already won this season (the Champions' League would make it five). Oh well.

In other Manchester news, I assume most people know that there are no trams running in the city centre till September, but did you also know that there will be no trams on the REST of the Altrincham and Eccles lines for the whole of August?

Music-related stuff now: Have you seen the new Cadburys Cluster advert? I saw it a couple of weeks ago and was very amused. You know I love sleighbells, especially in May :-)

On 18th May, a pianist called Gonzales broke the world record for the longest solo performance: over 27 hours. Here's how he prepared for it.

You probably already know about the Royal Opera House stuff on Radio 3, but the Intermezzo blog has a few more details.

Mendelssohn 2 is on this month's BBC Music Magazine cover CD, and Robert Tear talks about it on their website.

Via ChoralBlog, an interesting post from This Blog Will Change The World, about introverts as performing musicians.

From The Chorister, a selection of remedies for when you have a bad throat but you HAVE to sing.

From The Spectator, an interesting article about authenticity.

And one last non-musical link before I go off to pack: via the J-Walk Blog, a fascinating article about logos with hidden messages. There are lots of extra ones mentioned in the comments - well worth a read!

Hasta luego :-)

Que sera sera, whatever will be will be - we're going to Italy!

Well, I've been saying for ages that the Champions' League Final would be between Manchester United and Barcelona, and so it has turned out. I'm very much looking forward to watching this from Spain - I'm told that Valencia fans hate Barcelona, but whether or not they'll support them in a match where the opponents are English remains to be seen!

As for the title, I was amused at Old Trafford on Sunday when the crowd realised that "Italy" and "Wemberlee" not only rhyme with each other but also have the same number of syllables, which meant that all the songs which include the world "Wembley" could be instantly adapted to become Champions' League Final songs. Recycling is always good!

I didn't sing in the Wagner concert this weekend, but the reviews are impressive - Manchester Evening News, Guardian and Times so far (I'll add others if they appear). Only the MEN mentions the choir, but since the MEN is the one that hardly EVER mentions the choir, that's good!

EDIT: Graham points out a couple of posts on the Intermezzo blog (I used to edit a newsletter called "Intermezzo", but that's a scary amount of time ago!): half-time report and the final score.

FURTHER EDIT: A couple more reviews: Telegraph and Musical Criticism.

FURTHER FURTHER EDIT: Here's the Independent review.

AND ANOTHER ONE: The Spectator is maybe not quite as impressed as the others, but they still liked it!

I went to Thursday's rehearsal because we were due to rehearse music other than just Wagner. As it turned out this only happened in the final five minutes, but never mind. Before that, I did get to sing the 15 notes of Wagner, but because I wasn't doing the concert I had no music. But I hate having to share copies, so I'd prepared by putting the music onto my phone. I wouldn't recommend singing from a mobile phone screen usually, but for 15 notes it was good enough, and it amused me that it was possible! (There were more than 15 notes on the screen - of course I had to add cues...)

I've been at home for almost four weeks now - temp assignments seem to be vanishing along with permanent jobs - but at least I'm well rested and have been able to work on Plan A. My website is ALMOST ready to go - watch this space.

Other stuff: which opera would you say is England's national one?

As you've probably seen, the bells of Liverpool's Anglican Cathedral are to play "Imagine".

Here's more news about that Elgar statue I mentioned a while ago (Graham sent me the link at the time but I am very behind with my email).

The ABBA guys have written a song for their staff choir - very sweet of them!

Via Allen Simon on ChoralBlog: Liz Garnett on How much practice do you need?

The always-wonderful Overgrown Path tells us more about the recent goings-on at Snape. (I have recently been reading lots of Harry Potter fanfiction so it took me a few minutes to realise that the Snape in question was not a Hogwarts professor...)

Talking of Harry Potter, anyone who's read the books or seen the films will know about the Weasleys' clock. Well, soon you will be able to buy one!

There's an interesting new initiative to provide free rehearsal rooms.

If you have a PS3 in your house, you may be interested to know that you can now get SingStar with wireless mics. (If you've never tried this game, I recommend it - great fun! I've only played it once myself but I did enjoy it.)

I think I already mentioned this, but Usain Bolt will be running down Deansgate on Sunday.

And finally, this isn't anything to do with music (at least, not directly), but I found this 15-minute talk about creativity fascinating. (If you like this sort of thing, there is lots more at TED.)

Cinco de Mayo

Cinco de Mayo was yesterday. It's a festival that I remember every year but have never actually had a chance to celebrate. Nice that Mexicans have SOMETHING to cheer them up at the moment! (If you can't be bothered to follow the link, Cinco de Mayo is Spanish for 5th May, and is a Mexican holiday which commemorates them kicking the French out of Mexico.)

I'm in a bit of a slow period with my attempt to learn Spanish, because I'd been mainly studying on the train, but I've been at home for the past three weeks, so no train journeys! Must get back to it soon. Three weeks from this moment, my train will have just arrived in Barcelona. Three weeks from today is also the Champions' League Final, which I always knew United would be in because I wouldn't be able to go! (Mind you, I was sure we'd be in the FA Cup Final for the same reason - it's on 30th May - and that didn't work...) It's still very possible that Barcelona will be our opponents - they just need to beat Chelsea (at Chelsea) tonight. (Actually a score draw would be enough, due to the away goals rule.) I do hope it's Barcelona, it will add to the atmosphere in Spain if it is! And just in case you feel the urge to burst into song, here is some music for you:



(Higher quality version here in case you want it!)

Before I leave football, I can't resist mentioning last week's story from the Newcastle-Portsmouth game - the "swearing opera singer" was one of the soloists when we did St Cuthbert! He was very nice too - I seem to remember he saw me taking pictures and offered to take a photo of the choir for me (on my camera).

I have an mp3 that I'd love to share with you, but I think the people involved might not be too impressed, so I won't! But I do want to mention it anyway. It's a great example of how it's possible for a group of a cappella singers can rescue a song that's gone horribly wrong, just by listening to each other and not giving up! I did a couple of 6-part a cappella arrangements almost two years ago for my band, but for various reasons we never managed to get six of us in the same place at the same time till last week. I had been DESPERATE to try these two songs, but since we had a gig a couple of days later, we mainly had to concentrate on that - but we tried the two 6-part songs right at the end. Unfortunately no-one had had a chance to look at their part - or, at least, maybe they looked when I first gave them the music but forgot in the following two years! This meant that things did not go well.

One song wasn't too bad, because at least everyone knew the tune, but the other was so bad it was hilarious! Despite that, I'm quite proud of the recording of our attempt at sight reading it. Why? Well, the first two notes are fine. Immediately after that, things start to go wrong, but because there was one person singing who DID know their part (me, because I wrote it!), it didn't totally fall apart, just sounded awful. When the song reaches its last verse, there is a complicated key change, which you'd think would make things worse... but the person who has the tune at that point came in very confidently on what FELT like the right note (he had few other options, since most of the notes he was relying on for his cue didn't happen) and everyone else recognised his confidence and pitched their next note from his. Immediately there was audible harmony, which increased everyone's confidence - and the last couple of bars were perfect. To cap it all, when we checked with the guitar, we'd ended perfectly in tune! So the message is: any performance can be rescued, if you trust each other :-)

I have a lot of links to share, but first I wanted to mention All the Small Things, which finished its first series last night. I imagine lots of you watched it - what did you think? I expected to hate it, but actually I really enjoyed it. It even brought a tear to my eye once or twice. There were a few things that annoyed me, though... Mainly, the fact that they made classical music slightly evil. (Well, not really, but if you watched it I'm sure you know what I mean.) The breakaway choir was made to seem more fun partly because they sang choral arrangements of pop songs, and the original choir (with the nasty people in it) was shown singing classical stuff most of the time, except for a couple of occasions when we were plainly supposed to be slightly sympathetic, and then they sang pop! But I suppose this was to be expected from a primetime BBC1 programme.

(Just to be clear, I love pop songs as well as (if not more than) classical, so I'm not saying they should have reversed their portrayal - it just seems a bit unreasonable to give the impression that pop is fun and classical isn't.)

There's also the fact that the main choir only sang one piece of music most of the time (Haydn's Creation) - which I suppose is fairly realistic, because the series didn't last very long - except that they only ever rehearsed one movement of it! And then, at the last rehearsal before the contest they'd been working towards, the conductor abandoned Haydn and gave them a pop song to sight read (not just for fun, they performed it in the contest final). Uh huh.

However, I did really like the fact that they concluded that contests were not the be-all and end-all of choral singing, and also that they showed that even the best singers can fall apart in auditions! And I loved the fact that they filmed the finale on my platform at Victoria Station. I felt so proud to see it! Anyway, I'm looking forward to seeing what they do with the next series - maybe they might even learn another movement of The Creation...

(Talking of Haydn, have you seen the official website of the RNCM's imminent Haydn fetsival? And, while we're at it, have you seen what they're doing - non-Haydn-related - at Piccadilly Station on 4th July? I wish I could see that - very mean of them to do it while we're singing elsewhere!)

The other main thing I wanted to mention here today is Spotify. I've been hearing about this for ages, but I only tried it a few days ago. Until fairly recently you could only sign up if you had an invite, but this is no longer the case - go to the official page to start an account. I'm very impressed with it - it gives you the option to listen (legally) to full pieces of music (both pop AND classical). Those of you who use iTunes will be aware of how useful it is to be able to listen to 30-second clips of music before buying it... Spotify lets you listen to the WHOLE THING. It also gives you links to buy the music if you want to, but you don't have to. So, what's the catch? Lots of you won't even think it's a catch, because it's just this: you can't save the music to your own computer, you have to go online to hear it every time. But there's no limit to how many times you can do this, and you can save the link so that you don't have to search for the song again. There is one more tiny catch if you sign up for the free account, which is that after every few songs you have to listen to a short advert before you can play your next song. They don't interrupt the song to play an advert, and each time you have a forced ad break it's only ONE advert. I've found it a small price to pay for such a good service. Try it and see!

On a related note, the Overgrown Path blog tells us about things you can download from the British Library. I haven't tried this yet but I plan to do so soon. (I'm also amused by his post about music journalists! But I particularly liked his post about the difference between "lean-forward music" and "lean-back music". Food for thought.)

TV things coming up: I think I mentioned a while ago about the Birth of British Music series - well, it starts this Saturday (BBC2, 8pm). The first episode is about Purcell, and there's also a performance of Dido and Aeneas (from the Royal Opera House) on BBC4 next Friday night (15th May, 8.05pm). (I had an unexpected job interview just after I last posted, during which - amongst other things - I had to identify a couple of musical scores from untitled pages. One of them was Dido, and I knew the others too. Needless to say I still didn't get the job! I must admit I'm curious about whether or not the successful candidate got all the questions correct....)

Oh, and also on Saturday - and also at 8pm - there is a Radio 4 programme about John Barbirolli. Bit rubbish of them to put it on then, but thank goodness for iPlayer! (If you can't use iPlayer, it's repeated on Monday afternoon.)

What else? The blog at ChoralNet has moved, and I didn't realise until Podium Speak pointed it out. I've fixed my link now, but there have been lots of articles posted there in the meantime, of which the ones that caught my attention for longest were the ones about Germanic Latin and singing styles you may never be able to master.

Via Eine Kleine Nichtmusik, this thing about Mahler's markings made me laugh a LOT :-)

Here's a delightful video of a load of buskers round the world playing Stand By Me. Do watch the whole of it, it will put a smile on your face. And, entirely coincidentally, here's another performance of Stand By Me, together with a nice article about the wonderful Gareth Malone, which explains very well what effect a good choirmaster can have on many lives. (I had tears in my eyes watching this video, but that's mainly because I remember crying my eyes out when I saw it at the time, and THAT was because I'd watched what they'd gone through to get to that point - I'm glad that series won a BAFTA, it was great!)

And a few quick links to finish, in no particular order:

Interesting article about the power of live performance (prompted by the Simon Bolivar Youth Orchestra, but the point is more general).

Norman Lebrecht wonders how much justification there is for calling London a music capital.

Another alarming article about libraries - this one tells us that some Gloucestershire libraries are to have piped music! Argh!

Not three tenors any more: Placido Domingo has switched to baritone.

An article about playing Bach to hippopotamuses (mentioning our very own orchestra).

Ben Folds has released an album of his own songs covered by university a cappella groups. More pop stars should do this!

The Guardian points out that the UK's last piano maker is to cease production soon. Very sad.

Manchester Confidential tells us of a charity karaoke day in Manchester next Wednesday (13th May): 24 Hour Karaoke People at Tiger Tiger. (They also mention that karaoke was born in Stockport!)

And some non-musical links: the Manchester Evening News says it was 40 years ago yesterday that G-Mex stopped being a train station. Some interesting facts, most of which I didn't know!

Blackle is an alternative to Google which claims to save energy.

And finally, a game for you to try: Foldit. It's a bit of a time sink (like all the best games!) but at least it's all for a good cause (unlike most other games!)

Verrath? An wem? ... Siegfried? Gutrun's Gemahl? ... Brach er die Treue?

So, I've been sent rehearsal mp3s of the Wagner (thanks to those responsible, you know who you are) and they are now on my mp3 page. The total length of all 19 clips is less than 19 minutes, and sure enough the ladies only seem to sing for a total of about one minute (three separate bits, in clips II-39A, II-43 and II-45B). I looked up the score online (at IMSLP) and found that the entirety of the ladies' role is in the title of this post - and none of those words are repeated! A total of 15 notes, not even in harmony. Good old Wagner.

It's just as well I already decided I couldn't do the concert due to the Manchester derby, because due to United beating Porto last night, there is now a Champions' League semi-final at Old Trafford on the evening of 29th April, which I will NOT be missing. (It's against Arsenal, and Dimitar Berbatov - who is not the most popular United player, but I love him - had this to say: "They are a great team. But we are Manchester United, so I think we are going to win.")

A few links for you: firstly, our Abraham Lincoln gig is now on the official site. (Note to self: must go and look at that statue sometime.)

On An Overgrown Path reports on the latest I Fagiolini project - Tallis in Wonderland. Sounds intriguing - I'd love to see that. (I've still never seen them live despite one of my best friends being a member!)

Operas from Glyndebourne are to be shown on Sky Arts this summer.

In non-musical news, several bits of Greater Manchester are to lose their postmarks (I'm actually pleased about this - I hate having an Oldham postmark when I don't live in Oldham), and here is a heartwarming story about robots and nice people: Tweenbots.

Oh, and I finally finished my most recent temp assignment (at the university) yesterday, and I'm taking all the paid holiday I'm owed (which is only about a week, because I had to use some of it for recent bank holidays) to try and make some progress with Plan A, which has always been to do musical stuff from home. I have a new website that no-one has yet seen, with a proper domain name and everything - I'll let you know as soon as it's ready to be unveiled! In the meantime, I'm still applying for relevant musical admin jobs when they come up, but having been rejected now by every major musical organisation in Manchester (one of them has rejected me FIVE TIMES) I don't hold out much hope there. But working from home is much better if I can manage it, because it saves me three hours' travelling every day plus £23 train fares each week.

Just a couple of requests in the meantime, though - hope you don't mind me being cheeky... If you know anyone who's doing an Associated Board exam soon, and they're worrying about the aural and sight reading aspects, please suggest that they contact me, because I would love to give them a crash course (two or three lessons). Similarly, if you know anyone who wants a few maths (or music) GCSE or A level lessons before their exam, please send them my way. Thanks!

Shoes off!

Well, it seems to be three weeks since I last wrote here. Sorry for the delay, things have been stupidly busy, but hopefully they are starting to calm down now. I have a million links to share with you, but first let me summarise recent choral goings-on.

We've done The Planets twice, once in Manchester and once in Leeds. Both performances went well, although they were very different from each other. In Manchester, we stood in the choir assembly area in a big group facing away from the doors (which were opened just before we sang and closed gradually at the end, as instructed in the score). We (well, the altos at least) were instructed to sing as loudly as we possibly could. In Leeds, there were far fewer people singing, and we stood in a curved, narrow corridor just outside one of the doors to the auditorium; unlike in Manchester, there were audience members sitting right by the door, and we could see into the hall when the door was open. So when we sang as we'd been instructed in Manchester, of course it was far too loud, so some rapid adjustment was required.

(Apparently, after the Manchester concert, an audience member was heard to say "that was really good, but it's a pity they used a recording for the ladies' voices!" I hope that at least the Leeds audience was convinced we were really there...)

Actually, it was very odd singing The Planets without moving! I don't recall ever doing that before. We seem to have done the fadeout differently each time, although each time we've usually stood still until the actual fadeout bar. Let's see how many ways I can remember of doing that last bar:
• gradually turn through 180 degrees so we're facing away from the door
• gradually raise our music to cover our faces
• both of the above, one after the other
• walk backwards away from the stage
• gradually turn and then walk FORWARDS away from the stage (our favourite example of this was the time (at the Bridgewater Hall) that we sang from the side of the stage and then walked along the corridor to the bar)

Anyone remember any others?

We also had our first Mendelssohn 2 gig last Sunday (this is the only performance in Manchester, but we'll also be doing it in Spain and London). It went well, although I've only seen one review so far, in The Times, who said that "time and again [the choir] plunged us into a luxurious warm bath, scented with emollient harmonies". Not bad, although given that we were going for lightness and clarity, maybe not the review we might have hoped for! I think we DID achieve lightness and clarity, though, so maybe the reviewer just didn't have enough words to say that too...

I must admit that, although I really enjoyed the concert (as I always do), I'm feeling very demotivated about choir at the moment, and my self-esteem as a singer is at an all-time low. This is more to do with me (and the way my mind works) than with the choir, but I've been thinking about whether this summer might be a good point to leave. It has a certain symmetry - as I've mentioned before, Mendelssohn 2 is the first thing I ever sang with the choir, so it'd be fitting if it was the last thing as well. I haven't decided yet though - and maybe the trip to Spain will reinspire me and give me back some self-belief. I hope so, as I can't imagine life without choir!

Anyway, there are a LOT of links I need to share with you. Oh, and if you're looking for mp3s to practise with, my mp3 page doesn't yet have any Wagner, but it will as soon as I have the relevant mp3s (I have a source who has promised to send them). The Mendelssohn is still there, and I've just added the Barber Agnus Dei (I know we won't be doing that for a while, but it's hard so I thought I'd put it up while I remembered!)

(The Guardian included the Wagner gig on their list of top 50 things to see this spring, by the way. I think it's unlikely I'll be there, though, because the Manchester derby (i.e. United v City) has just been rescheduled to the afternoon of Sunday 10th May. Oh, and in case you haven't heard it, there's a very interesting interview about the project which you can download from the orchestra's website.)

The 2009 BBC Proms season has finally been unveiled, with the highlight of course being Prom 19 on 30th July (although I see that the Youth Choir get to go twice - they'll also be there on 6th September for Messiah). Advance booking (limited online and postal only) opens on Monday 20th April and general booking opens on Tuesday 26th May. In the Guardian, Charlotte Higgins lists her potential highlights; Tom Service does the same; and Stephen Hough (who was a couple of years about me at school - I wonder if he'd remember me?) talks about his Tchaikovsky proms.

From the Front of the Choir has a great post (although a slightly depressing one!) about the difficulties of hosting an English sing-along.

Norman Lebrecht writes about the Messiah tradition (there have also been a few TV programmes this weekend about the same topic, but I haven't seen any yet, although Sky+ has them for me!)

An interesting new CD release - a four-CD survey of British songwriting. Tom Service tells us more, including the interesting fact that the project is possible due to The Planets!

Paul Johnson writes about Richard Strauss (I'd forgotten it was an anniversary year for him!)

Here's a piece about Kathleen Ferrier's death, discussing what (if anything) she had in common with Jade Goody.

Via On an Overgrown Path: a performance of Cosi Fan Tutte in New York is asking the audience to send texts to choose the ending!

It was on the same blog that I first heard the sad news about the death of Maurice Jarre (do read the comments there too). The Guardian has an obituary.

Have you heard of the Sashimi Tabernacle Choir? No, I hadn't either. You may regret clicking on the link, especially if you watch their video! (And if you HAVE watched their video, the name you're trying to remember is this!)

Good news for opera fans - the BBC is extending its opera coverage - more on TV, and the radio stuff available online (I must admit I hadn't realised it wasn't already!)

If you, like me, knew nothing of the link between Manchester and Abraham Lincoln until recently, you may be interested by a recent MEN article that mentions it. (I can't find a link to our Abraham Lincoln gig - or in fact any of the summer prom concerts - on the orchestra's website - am I being blind?) (EDIT: Sheena points out that it's on the B Hall site.)

The prolific Tom Service has a thought-provoking article about why young people have been driven away from classical music.

A recent Guardian editorial compares Purcell with the Beach Boys.

Gramophone has a list of orchestras that change lives.

From VHK, news of a choral music exhibition at Oxford's Bodleian Library. I wish I could go and see this, but it's very unlikely, so I'll have to make do with living vicariously through VHK.

A great article (not specifically music-related) on the BBC News site, about how a piece of art can change your life.

From ChoralNet: the choices facing the conductor when the performance falls apart.

From the same blog: news of how a Canadian choir is trying to recruit tenors.

And also via the same blog: news of Handel's eating disorder.

An interesting initiative by Sky Arts: a virtual trip to the opera, including backstage camera. I don't have Sky Arts - did any of you see this?

Peter Phillips writes about vibrato.

Charles Hazlewood writes about British classical music - and it looks as if he has a TV series about this starting soon too.

Anthony Sayer, at the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra blog, writes about what conductors are for.

And in today's news, the pianist who has conquered Tourette's.

Finally, a few non-musical links: Rachel Cooke writes about fighting to save libraries. Nostalgic, thought-provoking and depressing.

The Big Picture is always fabulous, but I particularly liked these photos of the recent Earth Hour, in which you can click to see the difference with the lights out.

If you're still a bit baffled by Twitter, here's an article explaining it more thoroughly. And if any other choir people (other than Dr Liz and I) have signed up, let me know!

Here's a handy list of things you may not have realised you can do with Google.

Other things you may not have realised existed: several of my friends are raving about Graze, which I haven't tried but seems like a great service.

TV Catchup is a free LEGAL online service for watching programmes from the most popular UK TV channels.

Couch Surfing is a way to travel very cheaply by staying on people's couches.

And, finally finally, two things that have amused me this week: a recent Dilbert comic, and this incident at the station on Wednesday night:



(The guy on the bench was extremely drunk, and it seems he had created that puddle...)