I am about to make a confession. Not that it is required, nor necessary, but will be personally and imperatively cathartic.
This is a church-related experience so bear with me if you are not into religion.
Last night was my church's annual Christmas Concert which simply means it is has lots of singers and instrumentalists and not nearly enough audience to appreciate all of the hard work that goes into an event such as a concert. The audience that does attend is hugely appreciative and expressive about their approval..........there are just too many empty spaces within the pews.
One of my roles last night was to play handbells as part of a smaller group of players who were to accompany the choir during their cantata. Most readers of this blog will never have played the handbells so their perspective on what is difficult and what is not will be challenged.
Playing the handbells is much more difficult than it looks......unless you are a four-handed musical savant. Otherwise, it takes supreme concentration and requires decent hand-to-eye coordination - not to mention it is also highly desirable that note-reading skills would be 'off-the-charts-good'!
I am not a bad note-reader.......better than some, weaker than others........but I can usually hold my own. It was, however, humbling to play the parts that accompanied the choir cantata. Challenging, humbling, yet fun. So, here we are in the midst of the performance, perhaps two-thirds of the way through. All of the players are using multiple bells and the key signature changes frequently, hence our bells can get quite 'messed up'. I've missed notes but played very few wrong notes. The only reason my wrong-note percentage was so low was that I had missed playing notes. Anyway, I am playing bells that are in a multi-chordal passage and I hear this odd sound and I think, to myself, "Wow, where did THAT come from?" Just then I have to grab the same bell that will be used as a single-sound note and, VOILA!, there is that awful sound, and IT IS ME! Mind you, this has all taken place within six-to-eight beats so just a few seconds have passed. Hearing my clunker for all the rest of the audience to hear was mortifying. I grabbed the clanger with my hand the shut the awful sound up......not soon enough to prevent aural damage but soon enough to prevent permanent scarring.
There you have it.......my musical confession that only a musician would feel necessary to express. Just remember, I am in my Holly Daze. That must count for something.
Ancora imparo
