How shall I keep from singing?

The choir and congregation are increasingly coming to view midweek services as optional extras. I gather this is common all over the country, not just here in Creamtealand. Eleven of us sat on one side of the choir stalls for the evening choral Eucharist for Ascension Day and bravely sang four hymns and the Thorne setting (no anthem, fortunately). Another 20 or so faced us in the nave. Perhaps we need to introduce a custom popular in my childhood church – that of climbing the church tower to sing from the roof (a true Ascension!) – but maybe many years and several pounds later I’d find I was more out of breath and incapable of singing than I’d like to admit.

Sunday saw an encouraging influx of returning students and other younger people with strong voices. In the morning we sang ‘Veni Sancte Spiritus’ (Harper) which has an eerie, repetitive ground bass with the top two parts singing in thirds above. Many people in the congregation liked it and asked for more of the same – an unusual request from a congregation famed for preferring their music to be traditional, but I could understand as the music composed within the last ten years still had an ancient feel to it. Much more ancient than, say, a florid Victorian anthem.

A festival Evensong completed the weekend – our choirmaster appears to be attempting one of these each month in addition to the usual choral Evensong with Anglican chant settings. We could have benefited from a larger soprano section as we sang the settings by Brewer in D and the anthem, ‘Come Holy Ghost’ (Atwood) complete with solo first verse. We are fortunate in having such an army of tenors and basses, however – unlike a photo seen the next day in another Creamtealand church of 20 trebles and a handful of women, but no men at all.

Saturday’s concert was quite terrific – Carlo Curley isn’t exactly the quietest organist on the planet. He greeted us all with a loud ‘helloooo’ and a giant scribbled autograph all over our concert programme, then continued to entertain us with riveting organ playing (shown on a giant screen) interspersed with highly amusing commentary. It’s a long time since I’ve seen 300+ people leaving church with such a buzz.

This morning, even our normally bouncy relief priest seemed strangely subdued by comparison. And the church was only half-full compared with last night. We sang, ‘A new commandment’ by Shepherd – first time through as a quartet, followed by full choir. Our own organist played the Widor Toccata as we processed out – we decided he was trying to beat the speed with which Carlo played it last night. On balance, I think Carlo won.

Not that it was called ‘Good Shepherd Sunday’ according to the front of the church newsletter, but it was hard to miss from the constant references throughout the service, in readings, hymns and anthems. We had fun singing the ‘Vicar of Dibley’ version in the morning – Howard Goodall’s ‘The Lord is my Shepherd’, with two young choristers singing the quiet ‘for ever’ at the end. Unfortunately, we were criticised it for not singing it exactly like it is on the telly! There was a special treat at coffee time – an enormous box full of very thick, delicious shortbread – some of the best I’ve ever tasted. So I had two.

At evensong there were more in the choir than the congregation – a surprise now that the weather is warmer, although maybe too pleasant for people to wish to come to church. Those who were there heard us sing, ‘The Lord is my shepherd’ by Schubert, one of my favourites. This was accompanied, as was the morning anthem, on the piano instead of the organ – which made for lightness of touch and a pleasant change.

A busy weekend but a very musical one. Although the ‘Tavistock Sings!’ festival began on Thursday evening with a schools’ gala concert, I didn’t become involved until the Saturday, listening to a thoroughly enjoyable flute and song recital (with an exceedingly humorous introduction to each piece) at lunchtime, followed by the Ten Tors Orchestra Mozart concert in the evening. Sunday saw our usual Eucharist (‘God be in my head’, Rutter) and Festival Evensong (Responses: Sweeney; Canticles: Noble in B minor; ‘Praise to God in the Highest’, Campbell) amongst other events (including a delicious bring and share ploughman’s lunch). Our sopranos soared to their top A as they have never done before – well never as confidently as in any of the rehearsals, anyway. Obviously they rose to the excitement of the occasion, or perhaps it was the effect of all those pickled onions?

Many of the choir turned out again for a choral workshop the next day (Handel’s ‘Zadok the Priest’, ‘The King shall Rejoice’, ‘Hallelujah Chorus’; Mozart’s ‘Ave verum corpus’) conducted by the festival organiser, Simon Ible. I decided my voice needed a rest and instead ambled in to the church in time for the lunchtime organ recital by Jonathan Watts. Music by Karl Elert, Howells, Bach, Buxtehude and Boellman as I recall, although I must admit I let my mind wander and my head nod as I relaxed. A windy walk on the moors was called for to wake me up – with of course the compulsory stop at one of my favourite tea shops.