They did the hash, the concert rehash.
9:08 a.m.
Firstly Vlad wanted us all there for a 6:30 warm-up. I was a wee bit late, having taken care with my makeup and realizing at the last minute that I had to change my music from the pink binder I had originally placed it in to a black binder which would not distract from the edges hanging over the sides of the black music stand. Hence, if there had been a warm-up, I missed it. We went through several of the pieces, checked some entries and hard spots, and then had a half-hour to ourselves before show time. I went downstairs, braving the aroma of cleaning products (they�re doing a major disinfection of the practice room area) and warmed up properly.
We opened the concert with selections from G&S� H.M.S. Pinaf0re, which the audience loved and I hated. As much fun as it is to see a G&S show every decade or so, it is truly terribly music. This was followed by the barbershop quartet, a very entertaining group, which performed some very funny arrangements in both of Canada�s official languages, including a version of Gilligan�s Island in French, The Duke of Earl, Silhouettes on the Shade, and a lovely arrangement of Misty. What they lack in intonation (their chromatic harmonies were very interesting) they make up for in verve and pizzazz and use of props. The audience went proverbially wild.
After intermission we sang a selection of jazz tunes: a vocal arrangement of Rialt0 Ripples, I got rhythm, Smoke gets in your eyes, Blue Moon, Begin the Beguine and Satin Doll (which we also did as an encore). After the director for the museum came out and oversaw a draw for three cream teas, we finished off with three extremely silly numbers: an arrangement of Old McDonald, a J0hn Rutter piece with eating noises in it, and Name that Tune, a medley of famous orchestral works. The audience, while not exactly rising to its feet, was ecstatic.
We adjourned to Vlad�s house where she had laid out a sumptuous spread of yummies (there was even smoked trout, amazing stuff) and I had a glass of wine. I promptly started to feel very, very strange, and would have fallen asleep against the enormous alto I was sitting next to (her arm was so pillowy soft!) except that she warned me she was going to move, so I waited until the combination of alcohol, adrenalin and killer headache subsided on its own. Vlad took the vacated spot and we started talking about the Duchess and cancer in general, and I reminisced about all the people who had died in the recent past from this �indiscriminate killer� as I termed it, including the former pottery teacher at the college, and I started to cry.
Anyway, the smoker of the trout (our low bass) had recorded the concert on a mini disc and played it back on Vlad�s stereo system, so we had to suffer through it all over again. It wasn�t nearly as bad as I had imagined it to be, and my wee solo in the Gershwin was quite good. Oh, we were required to wear �informal black�, so I wore a T-shirt of that hue (a nice one, quite figure hugging) with my leather pants, and this elicited a very positive response from the men in the ensemble when I first arrived in the hall. It�s nice to know that at almost a half-century I�ve still got it.
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