Very recently, I have been giving my services as an accompanist to an opera company in the south of the country. As one of Repetiteurs, It was my job to help the soloists and singers to learn their parts, help memory, practice with accompaniment and in general, be on call for whatever came up musically. Despite the 11 hour days, it has been an absolute thrill to be working with an outstanding orchestra and beautifully voiced singers. Every day for three weeks I trudged my way to rehearsals, to be bombarded with 19th Century Opera, drinking coffee regularly to keep my eyelids from clamping themselves shut.
Staying in the cathedral city where it was being held, meant that on weekends, we the instrumentalists and the cast, could wander freely. So on my first Saturday in the city, I met up with an old friend from years ago. We walked and talked, reminiscing about old times, talking about all the mutual acquaintances we had. We had lunch, and then proceeded to the cathedral. To say the cathedral was beautiful would be an understatement. With a soaring roof, and equally long nave, the ancient stones remain a temple to God's holy work. The organ was resplendent, and when one of the scholars started practising, the entire building rang and reverberated by the bold and powerful chords of the music and the organ. Me and my old friend wandered under soaring buttresses and vaulted ceiling and stained glass as old as the cathedral itself. We slowly wandered out the building again, to leave the many strains of music still filling the cathedral.
After we had parted, it struck me how much we need friends in our lives, not only to share our problems and old memories, but to have someone there who can just be there. Due to this gut feeling, we resolved to meet again in the next couple of weeks, in between my long hours at the opera. Later this week, shows begin, and I can only imagine how tired and exhausted I will be after the many rehearsals and show times. It is all part of a musician's life, and I am no different to the next person. As they say, the show must go on!
Thursday, the 10th of July, 2014
Today was an excellent day. The aforementioned divine being that I made the delightful acquaintance with last week, sent me a handwritten letter. It came through the letterbox in the morning and hit the doormat with a definite authoritative slap. I went to the door as soon as I heard it, as post is scarce in my house. Made of good quality paper, the envelope had her beautifully scripted lettering on the front, I opened it. Full of her perfume scent, I opened the letter and read it slowly. That very afternoon, she was coming to town, with the specific intention of socialising with people, and when she said people, my over-thoughtful mind said "me". Realising I only had a half hour to get to the station, I grabbed an apple from the kitchen, grabbed my coat and rushed out the door.
From the sublime to the ridiculous. Although the station was a mere two and a half miles away from my house in the leafy suburbs of where I live, it was too close for a cab or a bus but too far to walk. Nevertheless, I ran. Upon reaching the station gates, the big 19th century iron roofed station imposed above the modern buildings. But even this did not distract my eyes from the lovely woman I had spotted, who has won my favour and affection. She saw me and began to walk towards me, which then steadily became a brisk walk. We collided with grace and embracing arms, to which I saw she had a tear in her eye. We, the reunited pair, walked and talked our way to the town centre. After having wandered around the beautiful cathedral with its ornate stained glass, soaring vaulted ceilings and gilt organ; we walked into a restaurant and had a beautiful candle-lit lunch. After having a few too many glasses of wine and having left the bill and tip on the table, we left the quiet restaurant with light jazz piano playing in the background, into the hustle and bustle of the town.
Wandering around the streets, we discussed our lives and jobs; me a self employed composer, she a teacher. Despite our match and our connection, her job demands and my unstable income would forever condemn our future together. So after a very long drawn-out goodbye, we parted as friends, to hopefully return again to each-other in a better light.
Hope, thus remained.
From the sublime to the ridiculous. Although the station was a mere two and a half miles away from my house in the leafy suburbs of where I live, it was too close for a cab or a bus but too far to walk. Nevertheless, I ran. Upon reaching the station gates, the big 19th century iron roofed station imposed above the modern buildings. But even this did not distract my eyes from the lovely woman I had spotted, who has won my favour and affection. She saw me and began to walk towards me, which then steadily became a brisk walk. We collided with grace and embracing arms, to which I saw she had a tear in her eye. We, the reunited pair, walked and talked our way to the town centre. After having wandered around the beautiful cathedral with its ornate stained glass, soaring vaulted ceilings and gilt organ; we walked into a restaurant and had a beautiful candle-lit lunch. After having a few too many glasses of wine and having left the bill and tip on the table, we left the quiet restaurant with light jazz piano playing in the background, into the hustle and bustle of the town.
Wandering around the streets, we discussed our lives and jobs; me a self employed composer, she a teacher. Despite our match and our connection, her job demands and my unstable income would forever condemn our future together. So after a very long drawn-out goodbye, we parted as friends, to hopefully return again to each-other in a better light.
Hope, thus remained.
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