I'd chosen to opt out of my usual choir's programme this summer term partly because the concert was going to follow a World War I commemoration theme; totally to be expected in this centenary year but somehow I just didn't fancy it. The idea seemed to reinforce the tendency to cater to our more elderly clientele - singers and audience - and during long years of choir management I had tried to promote the concept of attracting a younger constituency.
So when I decided instead to sign up for a scratch choir put together by our local celebrity songwriter, Chris Eaton, it didn't escape my sense of irony that when the initially top-secret plans were revealed, the event for which we would rehearse had exactly the same title as the one I'd rejected: 'Pack up your Troubles'. Nor that the average age of the 50 or so participants was considerably lower than that of my regular choir. Having learned my lesson about keeping an open mind, I tried not to panic about being given only lyrics rather than musical notes: relax, I told myself, enjoy the chance to learn something by rote for a change! And don't panic that the choirmaster keeps changing his mind!
The performance was to form the backbone of a garden party in the grounds of Enville Hall, and would feature the premiere of Chris's specially written piece, '1914, A Silent Night'. It wouldn't be the first time I'd sung something with a Christmas message in the middle of the summer, and indeed this really did have a message, a thought-provoking impact ... I won't give too much away, as Chris plans to release the song, appropriately enough, on 11th November, Armistice Day. For its debut, I think we gave it a jolly good launch, even better as an encore ... especially as by then I'd become a bit more accustomed to singing into a microphone. Watching the conductor whilst sideways on to ensure your mouth is close enough to the mic that's shared with another three sopranos isn't the easiest, and certainly outside my experience of singing Bach, Brahms, Bruckner or Britten!
Aside from wartime medleys, with enthusiastic participation from the sell-out crowd, we sang some popular pieces from more recent years, both uplifting and lighthearted. 'Raindrops keep falling on my head' featured twirling umbrellas, which were pretty handy as shade on such a glorious afternoon. The brass band, the bagpiper, the soloists, the lovely compere Pat, the tea and cakes, all made for a real get-away-from-it-all interlude from the stresses and strains. Pharrell Williams' 'Happy' may be full of improbable nonsense amongst the clapping and swaying, but fair enough in the context of today's fun and games: 'Sunshine she's here, you can take a break'.
So when I decided instead to sign up for a scratch choir put together by our local celebrity songwriter, Chris Eaton, it didn't escape my sense of irony that when the initially top-secret plans were revealed, the event for which we would rehearse had exactly the same title as the one I'd rejected: 'Pack up your Troubles'. Nor that the average age of the 50 or so participants was considerably lower than that of my regular choir. Having learned my lesson about keeping an open mind, I tried not to panic about being given only lyrics rather than musical notes: relax, I told myself, enjoy the chance to learn something by rote for a change! And don't panic that the choirmaster keeps changing his mind!
The performance was to form the backbone of a garden party in the grounds of Enville Hall, and would feature the premiere of Chris's specially written piece, '1914, A Silent Night'. It wouldn't be the first time I'd sung something with a Christmas message in the middle of the summer, and indeed this really did have a message, a thought-provoking impact ... I won't give too much away, as Chris plans to release the song, appropriately enough, on 11th November, Armistice Day. For its debut, I think we gave it a jolly good launch, even better as an encore ... especially as by then I'd become a bit more accustomed to singing into a microphone. Watching the conductor whilst sideways on to ensure your mouth is close enough to the mic that's shared with another three sopranos isn't the easiest, and certainly outside my experience of singing Bach, Brahms, Bruckner or Britten!
Aside from wartime medleys, with enthusiastic participation from the sell-out crowd, we sang some popular pieces from more recent years, both uplifting and lighthearted. 'Raindrops keep falling on my head' featured twirling umbrellas, which were pretty handy as shade on such a glorious afternoon. The brass band, the bagpiper, the soloists, the lovely compere Pat, the tea and cakes, all made for a real get-away-from-it-all interlude from the stresses and strains. Pharrell Williams' 'Happy' may be full of improbable nonsense amongst the clapping and swaying, but fair enough in the context of today's fun and games: 'Sunshine she's here, you can take a break'.
