Robin was a treble, Hel was an alto. In the Allegri, I was in the semi-chorus with Ella (?), Margaret Duthie, & Stephen Power, hidden behind the altar. My friend Stuart was a ringer, adding some heft to the bass line. A cat emerged from the middle of the choir during the Gibbons (see photos). And one of the tenors (not in photos) finished the concert lying on a slab at the back of the church awaiting an ambulance.

Tracks in alphabetical order (if anyone has the programme I shall rearrange these!):

Allegri: Misere Mei

Bairstow: Let all mortal flesh keep silence

Bassano: Dic Nobis, Maria

Duthie: Song of the Nuns of Chester

Gibbons: O clap your hands

Mendelssohn: Lift thine eyes, from Elijah

Parry: My soul, there is a country

Parry: Never weather-beaten sail

Parry: There is an old belief

Rhienberger: Abendlied

Sheppard: In manus tuas

Stanford: Justorum animae

Stanford: Coelos ascendit hodie

Stanford: Beati quorum via

Wood: Hail, gladdening light

Photos

The memorial to “Fanny Mercer, accidentally killed 1887”

Looking back over Buttermere

Up onto the ridge

Looking back to Buttermere

The summit of Fleetwith Pike

Innominate Tarn in threatening weather

Descending Haystacks to Scarth Gap in a howling gale

Descending Scarth Gap Pass

A Herdwick with a new hairdo

Fleetwith and Haystacks from Peggy’s Bridge

View NW from Peggy’s Bridge: Buttermere, Melbreak, Rannerdale Knotts

The walk following this route (in hindsight… we just set off up the hill!) http://www.walkingbritain.co.uk/walk-1289-print 

and is on this area of OS mapping: https://www.bing.com/mapspreview?&cp=54.517514~-3.245501&lvl=15&style=s&v=2&sV=2&form=S00027

We have set Lois, Helen and Robin a challenge; they must produce the following items on Sunday 30th August:

1. A piece of sandstone
2. The Dean's signature
3. A recording (home made) of Mendelssohn's Lift Thine Eyes
4. A fig leaf
5. A violet ground beetle (dead or alive)
6. A ball bearing
7. A hat that has been worn by a policeman/woman
8. Some sea water
9. A fossil
10. A floppy disk
11. A cheese soufflé
12. A personal possession that has spent a night in Brecon Cathedral

The provenance of each item must be declared, and may be an individual or collective effort. Points will be awarded to each team member according to the ancient rites and lores, taking into account the qualities of the items and stories. And as we all know: points mean prizes.

First up was the Abbey, on Tuesday. We arrived at about 16:40 and were ushered into places about 6 feet from the Cantoris trebles’ east end. We were furnished with full guides to the music being performed at the choral services for the week – much appreciated.

The choir sang an introit in the nave: Humphrey Clucas (b 1941) Delight thou in the Lord: and he shall give thee thy heart’s desire. This was intriguing, the sound floating in from an unseen choir, but we couldn’t really hear the piece.

When the choir entered the quire, it became apparent there was no O’Donnell in charge, and some research later suggested it was sub-organist Daniel Cook in charge, with organ scholar Peter Holder at the keyboards. Morley’s preces & responses were despatched with efficiency, but without lifting my soul. Psalms 142 and 143 showed how confident the treble line were in reaching for the end of a phrase, something that scares the crap out of the Brecon front row, and were carried through with beautiful diction if a lack of emotion. The Dec trebles were totally dominated by the blond head chorister, who’s performance of the evening was impeccable. We could barely hear the others, and Robin pointed out to me that one of them barely moved his mouth while singing (at which I held my tongue). The impressive and difficult Wise canticles, which I had not heard before and which featured many verses of solo parts, exposed some nervous or under-prepared trebles, and revealed some lay vicars who were just not quite as toned as I was expecting (my expectations were ludicrously high!). There was one very poignant moment where a senior treble crucified a couple of bars of solo, singing the whole thing a semitone flat, and the tiny one next to him immediately looked at him with wide-eyed astonishment and possibly fear. The early music was all accompanied by a chamber organ, positioned in the middle, however everything was back-to-front… the organ was facing East, the conductor West, yet Can and Dec were on their usual sides – perhaps a Westminster thing?

Finally, Purcell’s O Lord God of Hosts was lovely, with only minor wobbles. Robin echoed my feelings that the conducting was hard to follow, but that’s mainly about what you get used to.

Overall I gave them 7 out of 10 for this one, but sensed they could do a lot better.

Then to St Paul’s on Wednesday, where we were treated to a programme well known to us in Brecon.

It transpired that the service was being filmed by the BBC, and most of the congregation were seated out of the way in the nave beneath the main dome. With a little persistence we managed to gain admission to the quire, and were seated about 20 yards from the East end of the choir stalls. This didn’t afford quite the same forensic experience as at Westminster, particularly given the acoustic at St Paul’s (if the Abbey has a three second echo, St Paul’s has a six), but it was perhaps a better position for appreciating the choir as a whole.

Proceedings began with an introit – Tallis O nata lux, again performed in the nave. This was well executed, but with the monstrous echo it had become a bit mushy by the time it reached us.

Ayleward’s preces and responses sounded not unlike they do in Brecon, though the confidence and unity of the St Paul’s treble line was starting to impress. Psalms 137 & 138 were fine, though the words were less clear than at the Abbey – perhaps the acoustic and our extra distance. I couldn’t tell who was doing the arm-waving – Andrew Carwood or one of his assistants/subs – but the style of it during the psalms was most peculiar: a kind of pumping action with the elbows, forearms vertical. I know it’s all about what you get used to in rehearsals, and the proof of the pudding is in the listening, but Robin and I found the conducting on both evenings hard to interpret; “not nearly as good as Mr Duthie”, opined the wee man.

The Purcell in G minor canticles were particularly interesting to hear, as we do them regularly in Brecon and I have done the semi-chorus verses a couple of times. I think it’s fair to say we always find them a bit challenging (e.g. the skippy “he hath scattered…” bits) especially since Dan and Lowri graduated from the top line. St Paul’s rendition was impressive and nearly faultless, apart from a wobbly treble solo section in the Nunc. The anthem was more Purcell: O God, thou art my God – lovely. Perhaps I found the bass line vibrato a bit heavy for Purcell, but that’s probably just me. Eight out of ten overall.

And so to the Millennium Bridge and the boat, capturing this reflection of us and St Paul’s on the way…

Overall we all felt St Paul’s nicked it chorally, and Robin preferred the architecture as well (twinkly ceilings). We certainly learned a thing or two to take back to Brecon. Yet neither occasion quite matched what I experienced in Chichester a couple of weeks ago, where I was genuinely inspired by the tiny pristine choir and intimate setting.

Why would you spend your pocket money on make-up when you could buy Lego instead?

Robin Flower 24th April 2013

Robin became Stupid Death from the Horrible Histories.

And here’s the both of them…

Having not sung seriously for about 22 years since Cambridge I found it strangely enjoyable, though the old chords are pretty tangled; three long rehearsals and then the live broadcast gave Naomi and the girls a valuable insight into the rigours and rewards of choir life.

Wanting to record the programme, I found that iPlayer only allows you to listen to radio programmes for 7 days, rather then download them for keeps. A bit of binging found this fantastic little tool, imaginatively named "Radio Downloader". It does exactly what it says on the tin. But then it turned out the file was about 37MB - a bit large for loading onto our blog. So I used Audacity to chop out almost of all the speaking parts to leave just the music, and reduced the bit rate to a minimum, resulting in the attached MP3 files of around 15MB. I hope I'm not committing some grievous copyright crime.

After a 10-15 minute audition, Robin emerged looking a lot happier than he had beforehand, and we set off out into the pouring rain again to wait at home for the phone call. There were a few other sessions of auditions still to go, with a handful of candidates in each. The choir aims to take in 2 or 3 boys and 2 or 3 girls each year.

After a few false alarms (“urgent calls about our payment protection insurance”…etc etc) Mark rang at about 14:30… and offered Robin a place in the choir.  Of course we’ve said yes, as Robin is more enthusiastic about this than we’ve ever seen him. The action starts in September, and the commitment is pretty significant – watch this space.

Here’s the kitchen after lifting the lino to reveal the slime and mould…

I removed the whole lot, along with most of the skin on my knuckles.  The quarry tile floor is in good nick, and we think we’ll leave that in situ.

We’re not so sure about the range – a “Chatton Special” from the 1930’s (we think). It’s lovely, but has a little damage and rust and may not be recoverable. We’ll take advice on this, but I hope we can keep it (losing the fireplace, which is not so lovely).

We have inherited a fine range of derelict sheds. The most heavy-duty of these was integrated into the house structure via some Heath Robinson carpentry and excessive use of roofing felt. Here’s a part of it being dismembered – note the use of the tin can as roof support, among all the other random craps.

This shed was all pretty weird - very solidly built, but not high enough to stand up in. Two small child’s bells, endless hooks and pieces up string tied between them, net curtains, and a secret compartment under the floorboards, which, instead of the anticipated treasure, contained endless takeaway trays, margarine tubs, rusty pots and pans, half an old fireplace, and a Gollywog jam jar.  I’ve removed the rotten front wall and the bit that joined the house, and it now a rather nice kind of gazebo or perhaps log store. But OMG the spiders!

Another liability we have taken on is the collapsing boundary wall, which has been threatening to come down into the lane for months. We decided to take down the top half, reducing the risk of overall collapse, loss of limbs, children, cars etc.

Inside, we’ve removed all the horrid carpets and lino, and started stripping walls. Here’s the runner up to the top floor, about to go.

The garden is horrific, apart from the lawn area which has been maintained in reasonable nick. The rest appears to have been used as an intensive ivy farm combined with kitchen midden.

In amongst this are all kinds of wonders, bit of wire fence, broken glass, rusty buckets, a ruined greenhouse, brambles, more margarine tubs, etc etc. But also some rhubarb plants that are producing lovely red shoots.

The kids helped rediscover the back gate, which was buried in years of ivy. Here it is actually opening.

Robin helped with the bonfires, and we must have burned a couple of tons of scrub.

The electrician (Jeremy) arrived this evening and managed to get the lights back on, plus a few sockets, so the hoovering and lawn-mowing can soon commence.

Here’s me after a day of filling, scraping, lifting, sweeping, and general skirmishing with grime and dereliction.

We have now over-filled a skip, and we are pretty pooped.

Robin took the stage three times, here singing “hufen iâ” in duet with Amy.

He also performed “Do Re Mi” on trumpet, and “Mis Mawrth unwaith eto…” (aka “Dewi Sant”) with Dewi House.

Dewi House were victorious, of course!

Other stars of Dewi included Evey and Bethan performing this masterpiece!

Naomi

Lois

Helen

Robin

Crispin

On the hill, Mackenzie led the way, while Poj guarded the rear. Summit mince pies and tablet went down well. We all got pretty damp, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

The leaders at the summit…

Joined by others… and more rain…

“I’m not as daft as I look you know…”

Helen, Bobs and Naomi

All of us with the tree

Windy walk up the Crug with Mike, Sally and Tony

Christmas dinner

Robin sorting out the Hotwheels, and still in pyjamas at lunchtime

Lois and Helen rehearsing for the concert (Mae Hen…)

		A blustery walk up Pen y Fan VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL

High winds, high hills, and high dudgeon from Helen.

Amphitheatre effect… on the race route descent we were whispering to each other over distances of about 200m – incredible.

At Cwm Llwch we met an elderly German couple who had come the wrong way down – and were about to try to walk round the hill to Storey Arms (with no map or compass). We gave them a lift as darkness gathered.