Categories: uncategorized
Date: 22 January 2006 14:49:07
Seated one day at the organ........
I had played at Yarmouth Methodist once before when M was preaching. They rarely have a "live" organist, despite being home to three, yes three, organs. Two of them are fantastic eldery ancestors of the modern organ, especially the tiny one which is roughly the same size as a sewing maching and operated with a treddle. The larger one was, I think, originally powered by bellows, like the one my Dad used to work when he was a child (apart from the rather embarrassing occasions when his concentration and diligence lapsed somewhat). But I had forgotten how awful the "modern" one was.
It really is one of those old fashioned "modern" ones with the original rhythms and different settings, all of which seemed to produce the same tinny sound. It had a swell pedal which I wouldn't describe as particularly swell as it seems to have a will of its own, now inaudible, now playing to the Albert Hall. There are insufficient keys on each manual to cater for the requirements of most hymns, and the keys are somewhat narrower than they might be too.
I was welcomed profusely. "It's so nice to have a 'real' organist. Normally we have to make do with karaoke hymns off a CD, which rather limits choice. Thank you so much for coming." That was until the first hymn. Well, my fingers were sort of expecting keys the size of piano keys and I was busy focussing on the music and letting my fingers move automatically. So I was playing the right pattern but unfortunately the notes just didn't seem to match!!! The congregation's faces when I suddenly stopped and said "Would you mind very much if we simply started again from the beginning?" were a sight to behold.
As if I was going to get off as easily as that. It was a wonderful thundering hymn and I was really enjoying playing it once my fingers had acclimatised themselves to the size of the machine. I couldn't look at the words of the hymns (I usually adapt my playing to mirror the rhythm and meaning of the words) as I was concentrating on the music and the keyboards, so I simply glanced and saw, to my pleasure, that it was four verses. Hmmm... that's what I thought. I finished the second verse and launched confidently into the third, just getting into my stride, when I noticed nobody particularly singing along. (Thank goodness for Tiddles - the congregation was so small that I couldn't tell they weren't singing, but I suddenly realised his little voice was missing by my ear, and Smudgelet was sort of suppressing a sniggery sort of sound). No, there weren't four verses, there were two, but printed in such a way that there was a line break in between the fourth and fifth lines.
I did wonder whether I was, after all, second best to a CD.