(no subject)

[sanura]

When did I last write? Man, it’s been forever. Did I inform you all about the silly seminar? The attempt to swim? The success of swimming? How long has it been? I’m writing this in the car after midnight on the road between Indianapolis and St. Louis, somewhere, this being the first opportunity I’ve had since the last. I’ll start from Thursday.

Regular rehearsal, or as regular as breakout group rehearsals of incredible music with incredible singers instructed by an incredible conductor will ever be, was followed by a small session with Grant (lutist) for rehearsal of Alaiah. Little did I know he had gone to the effort to arrange it for lute, guitar and cello, and found a guitarist and a cellist so that it would not be a solo and thus against the rules. It sounded incredible, as you can well imagine, and we only had to go through it about twice, with a couple of the routine accidental-switching that I have to do with that particular copy because of my mistakes on it. After that was a ridiculous amount of free time (Thursday, it seems, has become a sort of break day over the years of these workshops because a whole week of this stuff is a little much to handle). Alan, mama and I walked to the swimming hole, finally, and walked in the river. Alan and I went further upstream and eventually gave in and shed a top layer and jumped in. He has some impressive scars.

Back at rehearsal before the seminar, I was freezing, and Carla was kind enough to lend me a jacket, and then a t-shirt. I had a fairly hysterical time with Laura. I don’t know why it was so funny, but she was lying on the stage on her back and I crawled up to her and poked her fingers, and she hummed a note for each different one… We cracked up and couldn’t stop laughing till Kristina came in and the rehearsal got productive.

Alan went to have sushi downtown with Kristina while the rest of us had a picnic in front of Tyler, and I neglected to save him a piece of barbecue. I was mightily sorry later. However, during dinner I was recruited for an act in the silly seminar when we got back to Baldwin.

Before the actual seminar, a few pieces of music were performed that wouldn’t fit in any other seminars, including me and mama and Roger and Debbie and Mama and Robert standing in for Lee, doing two of our normal Sunday repertoire, Stanford’s Blue Bird and Rachamninov Bogoroditse Devo. We were well-received, as was the extremely well-ensembled barbershop quartet. Then that fun began.

Crazy fun. Some of the skits were funnier than others, but one of the ones that lives through the ages, new episode each time, is the Confessional. Robert Puleo, the tenor whom I would be if I could be a tenor, played the priest hilariously. Mama went first and confessed that she had been to a workshop in which a crazy Japanese lady asked the whole sight reading class to “perform solfeggio,” to a sober rejoinder from the priest that she must only hum for a month in penitence, and he had a cd that would be just the thing, “Todd Hums the Hymns” (which was funny because Todd had threatened to record just such a cd at a particularly ineffective warm-up that morning). Billy (WW member) went next and confessed that ever since he was a little kid he’d had a tendency toward homophony. Father Puleo prescribed that for a year he must sing only single lines with high voices, and countertenors don’t count (Billy’s a countertenor). Last was my confession, and I tremblingly admitted that I couldn’t chant or sing in church without having multiple organums. Look up organum, if you don’t get it. Robert told me I must go to a monodastery. Look up monody. The entire audience was hysterical. Kristina actually fell on the ground laughing. We finished the skit by breaking out in organum, singing Kyrie Eleison, Tuna Mayonnaison, Amen.

I was in one other one, called The Man Who Never Laughs, in which four of us stood in a line and giggled increasingly uncontrollably while Alan stood at the end and held a rather upset straight face. It was funny. I guess you had to be there. Another one I remember is Life at Windy Pastures, which was a parody of what would happen if all the members of the Western wind went to the same nursing home. Debbie played Gayla with her suitcase full of Maltese puppies named for various musical terms starting with A (Gayla’s dog Aria comes everywhere with her in her handbag). Robert played a hilarious Todd, and Kristina playing herself retained a suitable amount of undying energy. Following that was Robert with a hand puppet that looked just like Aria, making various comments on rehearsals from her point of view. There was also a group attempt at all the verses of Clementine, with hilarious reenactments of the text. Lots of really stupid but funny stuff.

After the silly seminar, Billy convinced the two teenaged boys to play some of their own music, and lo! I have found contemporary rock which I can appreciate. The name of their band is Counterpoint, and I’m going to its website as soon as I can get online again (right after I post this, of course). Their vocal harmonies actually reminded me of Simon & Garfunkel. I listened to them as long as they played, then talked to them for awhile in appreciation. Then sleep.

Friday was a crazy busy day. Rehearse small groups, rehearse big groups, duo/continuo concert (at which Alaiah was incredibly well-received, and yes, recorded with Grant’s really cool arrangement0, more small group rehearsals, skipped lunch to play Frisbee with Alan, jazz concert at which our small group got a surprisingly enthusiastic ovation for Dream A Little Dream of Me and Kristina further elaborated on her praise of Alaiah, seminar at which six of our group’s songs were recorded, and then! Vocal roundtable back at Baldwin, which Alan and I completely ignored in favor of making another milk run.

This time we went on his bicycle. Riding on a wheel shelf is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. And I’m short. But we managed, and the intersection of main street and some big something downtown will forever remain in memory as the location of the “sweet left turn.” We got a bunch of beer and chips and he indulged me with two small candles (hee), and we went back to the dorm and proceeded to stay in the refrigerator room nearly all night. Billy, Gayla (and Aria), mama, and the Japanese girls were also in there for most of it, and I unintentionally gathered an audience and a commission when I brought my green/gold wire coif down to show Alan. Gayla desperately wanted something chainmail, so she paid me 35 dollars for a green and copper aran, and was unbelievably excited about it. I made her some earrings to go with it, too, after coming across green findings in a bead store.

Making the aran took most of the night. What else happened that night deserves its own entry.

[end of car entry, beginning of Lisa's house entry]

In the morning I was still quite shaky, and couldn't eat breakfast or lunch, so at midmorning small breakout group rehearsal I informed a concerned Alan serenely it was all his fault but not to worry about it. Heh. He was a little jumpy when I saw him brushing his teeth in the bathroom in the morning, but by the end of the (superb but not-as-good-as-it-could've-been) final concert my insides were less unhappy and I tearily hugged everyone goodbye, only to see most of them again at the dorm after crying the whole walk there. I sat unobtrusively at the back of Alan's chair (he was part of the checkout staff) in the entry and counted photocopied sides to pay for, and filled out my order form, and life was normal and good.

We were going to go that night (the 7th), but having eaten nothing all day I was fairly hungry and Alan talked us out of leaving after we'd had dinner at a nice cheap Chinese place we walked to. So we stayed. I made Gayla earrings to go with her aran. I finally lit the candles Alan had bought on a milk run, and we sat in the porch swing with Robert and played with them (my pants will probably never recover from the wax). Kristina explained the significance of her tattoos, Richard told stories about music, we sang horribly out-of-tune Silent Night (it takes skill to sing in constant minor seconds, I promise!), and generally had fun. Eventually we drifted inside and collapsed on the couch and talked there, and before I realized it it was just Alan and I on the couch and Joel (bass) reaing his paper on the other one across from us. After Alan had a short nap with my lap for a pillow and my arm for a teddy bear, he woke up and decided it was time for bed.

In the morning, the general consensus was to get breakfast, but Robert was waiting for Alan so eventually we went up and sang the Hills Are Alive at his door till Gayla woke up and sang a descant. Alan still wasn't up, so Robert banged on his door and eventually he opened it, looking like the silliest caricature of the word "sleepy: I've ever seen, shirtless and putting on a belt. He made it downstairs, and Robert and mama and he and I drove to Jake's, a nice cheap diner, and had all kinds of involved musical conversations and long drawn-out goodbyes (at least five different hugs by Robert). Kristina and Carla dropped by our table and talked a bit, too. I was miserable about leaving, but eventually I did, with one last hug and I'll miss you too.

Since then, it's been mostly driving. That night we stayed at April's, and she and Jaime were actually there this time, and Raven (Bianca's older sister) was there too. Jaime gave me a 44-pound spool of 18-gauge copper welding wire. I am happy about that. We left around 2 that afternoon having visited mightily, and got here (Lisa's in Kansas City) around 2:30 in the morning having crossed a time zone which set us back an hour, so we really drove for thirteen hours. Gah. And another twelve today before we're home, and it's 1:45 now. Been hanging out with Paul and Steven, showed Lisa a WW arrangement of Spiderman and Elliot's i thank You God... fun, but I think the last week and a half was the most fun I've had in my life.

Comments

[music-dissident.livejournal.com]

I enjoyed reading that.

[sanura.livejournal.com]

That's nice to know. I write them for myself for a time when I won't remember without help, but it's good for other people to enjoy them too.

[sacredmushroom.livejournal.com]

thats what avalon said about music... some where along the lines of 'i write for my self, hoping other people can like it and understand it also'

some where in the chamber music cd cover

i enjoyed it too, you had an exiting time, or are having, or AL;SDJG AOIGB whats going onnnnnnnnnnn