Singing Up
"Do you want to go to this acapella concert in Oak Park?" said Serendipity. "It's called The British Are Coming."
Personally I thought the British were already here, but I've been away from home long enough to fancy a bit of the old country culture for a change.
The concert took place last night in a beautiful old church, which made a refreshing change considering the amount of time I've been spending in synagogue lately, although I have to say we have them beat on seating. Those wooden pews can be very hard after an hour and a half.
I love British music and couldn't wait to read the programme. I knew Chicago Acapella were meant to be very good, which indeed they are, and wondered what they would be singing. Greensleeves, that would nice. Then again there are dozens of famous old folk songs they could choose. Of course it wouldn't be British music without some Gilbert and Sullivan (I'm still their number one fan albeit 120 years too late). Would they move up to the delights of Sandy Wilson who wrote The Boyfriend, or Julian Slade's Salad Days?
What about more modern British music like Lennon and McCartney, Elton John or Andrew Lloyd Webber? I was excited!
No I wasn't. The programme they had selected turned out to be heavily weighted on the madigral with a bit of Lennon and McCartney thrown in to wake people from time to time. Of course the rest of the audience were entranced, but after 15 minutes of fa la la la las Grumpy and I started to glaze over.
Serendipty and Jett loved it of course. Turned out Jett used to sing in an acapella group in high school, although why that should surprise me, I don't know. Everyone in Naperville is an expert in at least 75 skills and can usually perform at least 23 of them at the same time.
I finally got my own back writing 500 words on the back of the audience survey, after which I realised two things.
1. What right did I have to tell them what to sing? (even though in my spare time I'm a director and teacher), and
2. Never give a writer a pen.
In the end, I was glad the British were going....
Personally I thought the British were already here, but I've been away from home long enough to fancy a bit of the old country culture for a change.
The concert took place last night in a beautiful old church, which made a refreshing change considering the amount of time I've been spending in synagogue lately, although I have to say we have them beat on seating. Those wooden pews can be very hard after an hour and a half.
I love British music and couldn't wait to read the programme. I knew Chicago Acapella were meant to be very good, which indeed they are, and wondered what they would be singing. Greensleeves, that would nice. Then again there are dozens of famous old folk songs they could choose. Of course it wouldn't be British music without some Gilbert and Sullivan (I'm still their number one fan albeit 120 years too late). Would they move up to the delights of Sandy Wilson who wrote The Boyfriend, or Julian Slade's Salad Days?
What about more modern British music like Lennon and McCartney, Elton John or Andrew Lloyd Webber? I was excited!
No I wasn't. The programme they had selected turned out to be heavily weighted on the madigral with a bit of Lennon and McCartney thrown in to wake people from time to time. Of course the rest of the audience were entranced, but after 15 minutes of fa la la la las Grumpy and I started to glaze over.
Serendipty and Jett loved it of course. Turned out Jett used to sing in an acapella group in high school, although why that should surprise me, I don't know. Everyone in Naperville is an expert in at least 75 skills and can usually perform at least 23 of them at the same time.
I finally got my own back writing 500 words on the back of the audience survey, after which I realised two things.
1. What right did I have to tell them what to sing? (even though in my spare time I'm a director and teacher), and
2. Never give a writer a pen.
In the end, I was glad the British were going....
posted by Hilary at
9:27 AM
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