And he shall purify! And we shall learn to sing Alto
Along with prevaricating less I have also felt that life might be more exciting if I said yes rather than no, before I go further I’d like to state that my answer won’t be yes to everything but just a bit more than I do now. Anyway, that’s how I came to be driving over to Boconnoc Church in order to perform in a Scratch Messiah. In case you don’t know what that means, and one week ago I was in your number, it means a last minute thrown together rehearsal and performance of Handel’s Messiah. When my friends asked me, it sounded like a laugh, I used to be in a competition standard choir when I was younger and I thought I should be OK. At that point I was ignoring a few important facts, I have never sung the Messiah and it was a very long time ago since I was in a choir. I was driving over to meet the girls on a gorgeous Saturday; issues of pee, poo, mud, rugby and boys were left behind and I raced through the autumn countryside humming away to the bits of the Messiah that I knew. Best just clarify that the boys were not responsible for the pee and poo issues. Neither was Steve. Agatha is still providing us with daily challenges but that’s a whole other column. Now where, was I? Ah yes, rolling through the Cornish countryside, trilling out my halleluiahs. Over the week I had managed to listen to the Messiah twice and I discovered that it was a lot longer than I realised, a lot more complicated and a hell of a lot higher than I could manage. Certainly I used to be a soprano but as I’ve got older I have found that my voice, along with other things has started to head south. When I was singing top C it made the boys search for injured cats. My confidence was also beginning to head south.
