Last evening I experienced the surreal.
I’ve been a chorister singing new music with the composer present. I’ve been a conductor working with a composer to bring new music to life. But I’ve never actually been the composer, sitting at the piano during a rehearsal, helping a choir to bring my own music to life.
Until last evening.
My dear friend Jeffery Thyer asked me compose a little something for the group Choral Chameleon, an ensemble of which he is one of the team of conductors.
By email, we discussed various texts, all after I decided I would do something funny.
The result is a bit juvenile, a bit broad-humored, a bit ethereal in a couple of spots, and decent enough to make a newcomer to rehearsal last evening laugh out loud.
With the concert still five weeks off, the work is very much ‘in-progress,’ but I could hear what it will be, and my little ditties are in good hands in Jeff’s.
Sadly, I will miss the premiere, since I’ll be abroad at the time.
After the rehearsal, held at the oldest Methodist church in the USA (a place where Wesley preached and where Asbury held forth, and where I had goosebumps from the ghosts), we nipped down John St in the Financial District (me marveling that I could see the Stock Exchange Building) to Les Halles restaurant, where my Boeuf Bourguignon was the perfect post-rehearsal meal, as was my Astor cocktail.