h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

(start at pic 8)

That's you up against the wall with the fireworks going off? Spectacular!

The audience seem to be looking the wrong way.

Well, they clapped at the end. My husband says the drummer in the middle of the wheels on the roof swung his sticks like a robot throughout the whole thing, which seemed to impress him more than anything.

OK - I'm off to the final rehearsal this morning. It's sweltering hot and we're practising on the stage of the town's theatre/ballroom. It is doubly hot on that stage - we usually have the final rehearsals there, and they're alway this time of year. Must take plenty of water.

Two schools are also having their end-of-year fetes, which takes the form of presentations of the projects that they have both been carrying out this past week. So I shall have a browse round them first, and eat a couple of tidbits from various cooking projects.

Have fun at the meet everyone - looking forward to hearing about it.

Well - the concert last night (to a packed courtyard of 800 filled seats - sold out!!) went off really really well.

The Carmina were interspersed by some bits of jazz, starting out with variations on the themes in the work itself, then developing into whole interludes. The first one was good, but the second one (after "In trutina", before "Tempus est iocundum") went on too long. This was the opinion not only of most of the choir, but also of the audience.

The jazz group was piano, trumpet, sax, drums and a female singer (mezzosoprano).

The audience gave us standing ovations.

The orchestra were a great crowd. Musically it was also very pleasing to work with them although they had some trouble keeping time with each other on occasions, and didn't always get it right when our conductor asked them to alter speed, accentuation etc.

Afterwards we sat in the garden of the music school, singing bits of the Carmina again and again, and then anything else we could think of and knew the words to. (Brahms, Bob Dylan ....)

Till 4 am.

So there was I, still in my kaftan, staggering home (boy was I - hadn't had anything to eat all day and then 4-5 glasses of wine after the concert). Like a merry monk, I walked the 3 km home, hiccupping and singing bits of the Carmina.

Guess who was rather late for work this morning?

Next year, I'll organise the morning off after the concert officially.

No wait a minute, they said last night that there will be no choir project next year.

Glad you enjoyed it. I always said that Carmina Burana is a great piece to sing, despite its apparent simplicity.

Oh - and there was plenty to laugh at. The baritone soloist did a really drunken "abbas" and the tenor - who came all the way just to sing the roasting swan, had us giggling like mad, unbuttoning his jacket and flapping it to show how hot he was.

The soprano was an absolute darling and as the choir trooped off the stage she patted each of us on the shoulder and congratulated us. She sang perfectly and took the jazz soloist under her wing, who had the difficult job of copying some of her part. They took a bow together.

The children's choir were very exact and professional.

The large group of percussionists were kept busy and the timpanis seemed to be the hardest part to get right.

Our men messed up their "ha-ha" at the end of the "Wafna" song. Which they have never done before.

Oooo don't you just hate it when they mess up their ha-has?

Tis fortuna

Yesterday afternoon (after the wedding - see other journal entry) we were invited for a small reception for the members of the choir where we handed back our robes, were shown an excerpt from the DVD and fed nibbles and . It was, of course, also a chance to have a chat to old friends and reminisce.

The DVD is not completely ready yet, but the bit we saw was very impressive. There are some "whoops" parts on the recording, we were told, but the excerpts we heard were fine.

The main topic of the speeches by the conductor, the head of the music school and his brother, who managed everything to do with the choir, was that we shouldn't be so critical of more modern musical elements and we should give them a chance.

This was a reference to the fact that everyone - the local press, the choir and the audience (possibly the orchestra, too) - had trouble understanding why the jazz combo had to interrupt the Carmina with new songs, modern noises and various forms of jazz.

They didn't seem to understand that no one was criticising these interjections per se, the musicians were first class, the new, unaccustomed sounds were fine in their way, the piano bar songs were great. It's just that some of these interludes went on too long and spoiled the tension and build-up of Orff's work.

As a rule, we don't object to links being made between the movements - the jazz violinist who twiddled away between the movements of the Vivaldi last year fitted it in very well and really made something new and fresh out of the Museum pieces that the Gloria and Magnificat were. ("Bach, Beethoven, Mozart - that is museum music": these were the words of our conductor in her speech.)

The music school head is very proud of what the school produces and the unique mixture of modern and classic which is presented every year at the festival. His brother said they were open to criticism and would try and act upon constructive criticism.

But none of them had properly listened to the critics.

Still, when the DVD is finished, I am looking forward to watching it all over again. It was a memorable night. The conductor says we shouldn't really feel the need to do this. It was a moment, it is over, we should preserve the memory and not look back and wince at our missed entrances and wrong notes.

Maybe she is right in a way. That is the whole point of the art of music - unlike a painting, once it's performed, it's over. A painting or a sculpture remains for ever. A piece of music has to be performed anew if you want to hear it again.

Even in the world of pop music, it is nice when well-known songs that you've listened to dozens of times in exactly the same version on a recording are played live and given a different colour or texture or a slight shift in rhythm or instrumentalisation or whatever.

Who then, is more important - the composer or the performer? Or shouldn't one ask that question?

Recording has had an enormous influence on performing; studio recordings with the option of editing and correction are hard to live up to, yet miraculously performers do, turning out ever more meticulous performances on stage.

On the other hand Rubinstein had an enormous following who valued his live perfomances so much that they utterly forgave his cascades of wrong notes.

A balance has to be struck. Live performance should be a bit like live conversation, not intended for repeating.

A conductor who glorifies the composer is indulging in modesty. Leinsdorf called the conductor "The Comoser's Advocate" and many a good conductor has polished the halo of many a middling composer.

As I suspected - it's a sort of "which came first, the chicken or the egg" situation.

That one can't be answered because the race isn't over yet