This unhappy camper is not entirely unhappy, if you know what I mean.

The heat broke and it was actually cool last night. Today it has been raining off and on, which is fine and well because I�ve been stuck indoors copying this piece. For a short work (eight minutes) it sure seems to be taking a long time. Hubby got a phone call from the spokesperson for the symphony last night. The contract he signed gave him five trombones (four tenors, one bass) to write for, and that�s what he�s done. This is a formidable brass section (four horns, four trumpets, five trombones and tuba), what a friend of mine termed �sonic weaponry�. The spokesperson informed him, however, that they can�t afford the fifth trombone player, could he rewrite the brass parts accordingly? A composer doesn�t want to hear this, neither does his copyist. He�s decided to make a second version of the piece leaving out the third trombone so that the fourth is the bass, and have the tuba play the low notes alone where it was originally doubled at the octave. More work for the copyist.

Tonight�s rehearsal for Thursday�s concert was unsatisfactory. I love Vlad, she�s a dear friend, but she is not great as either a conductor or a singer, yet she is the leader of this group. She chooses the music, arranges the concerts, runs the rehearsals. She is always shushing me, telling me to hold back and then complaining that we�re always flat. I do the best I can, but it is difficult to stay in tune when I can�t put my whole voice out there. I am questioning my involvement in this ensemble. Why does she want me there anyway if I don�t blend and always stick out like a soloist? I suspect she needs me because I do sing in tune and I do sound good and the audience likes that, but she doesn�t want me overshadowing her. Now, that might just be the catty soprano diva talking. I like the group, I like the repertoire we�re doing for this show, I just don�t like having to constantly be holding myself in check. It seems I go through this every time this group rehearses for a concert. Maybe I should throw in the towel. I just don�t know.

The funny part is that I got home and Hubby was at the kitchen table, working out a jazz tune on the parlour guitar (Cherokee), so of course I vented to him a little. Then I said as I was leaving to update my diary, �At least I got laid today.�

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