Last night nerves and a Festival First

Ooh, ooh, oh --- twingle twangle twingle --- that's my nerves, that is, as I try to spend an hour of two in constructive relaxation in anticipation of a rather fraught afternoon. This evening I shall be in the Cathedral singing with the massive choir known collectively as The Voice Project, finishing the N&N Festival with the world premiere of 'In Tsegihi', a specially commissioned piece from American composer Jon Hassell. Even the soothing background burble from Lord's isn't helping.

It's safe to say that this is a style of music which very few of us have encountered before. Hassell has combined contemporary electronic instruments and techniques with vocal parts based on a Navaho healing ritual, part composed and part improvised. After three months working away in the restrained panelled surroundings of the Friends Meeting House, we are now undertaking the final rehearsals in the soaring Gothic massiveness of the Cathedral. The composer himself - reassuringly laid-back and quietly-spoken, despite his reputation as a 'God-like genius of contemporary music'! - flew in last week and with him came The Musicians plus much cabling, control desks and electronica.

It is a fascinating process, learning a really big and complex piece like this, involving a choir which sometimes is singing eight separate parts (and then there are the five soloists). From stringing together the first phrases, working on coming in and out at the right times, pitching without the assistance of a note, learning the correct sequence for a whole section when you are basically singing "Ah ah ah", then building sections and finally the great moment when "OK let's go for it", singing it right through. A couple of sessions where different cock-ups emerge each time round; trying to keep the pulse without sounding mechanical, trying to work in expressiveness of the meaning. As a seasoned amateur performer, I am a great believer in a dreadful dress rehearsal meaning a good performance - hence the nerves now, as last night was a bit of a pig's ear because there hadn't been any power available for the musicians to have a proper sound check and not quite enough staging for the size of the choir, so it was all a vital few hours behind and we couldn't sing it all through and to be honest I came home wondering if there was still time to get a ticket for Hesperion TwentyOne!

So I've had my moment in the wilderness and I shall shortly be taking in a small plate of slow-release carbs, filling the water bottle, checking the chewy mint supply, finding my smart black outfit and strolling collectedly down to The Close, in preparation for what will no doubt be a few fraught hours of final rehearsals. But We are Professionals, or at least those of us who aren't will be acting like professionals when it's time for the audience to come through the doors. We will be doing the swan thing - singing serenely and ethereally while counting the beats (is this note 4, 8, 12 or 16?) - making the hours of practising all worth while and greeting the last section with a mental sigh of relief and a fervent wish to go on singing this wonderful music for ever. 'It is finished in beauty'. Here's hoping.

Sunday morning, slightly dozy .....

We couldn't believe how quickly it went!  We were filed neatly away in the transept pews during the band's first set, entertaining ourselves and trying to keep warm with sporadic Mexican waves (this part of the building giving a new meaning to "cross draughts").  Then on to the stage and trying to remember all the stuff we go through in warm-ups - feet firm, knees soft, head up, make space inside your throat, lift your voice into the front of your face and breathe on the second beat of the lead-in bar.  Focus. GO.  Sian is such a lovely conductor, absolutely clear and giving back little beams and thumbs-up when we've come through a section particularly well (and some bloody funny faces, which the audience doesn't see, when not, but thankfully there were very few of those!) and the whole piece took off and flew.  Given the structure of the building and the size of the choir you cannot hear all the other parts, so it was good to be reassured by friends who joined us for drinks afterwards that we sounded lovely.  What's next?  Sing for Water - performance at the Thames Festival in London in September, workshops start in June.  Addictive stuff, this singing.