The Big Sing

I apologise for yet another post about singing, but I have to tell you about The Big Sing. Next week I promise I won't even MENTION singing....

Last night being the summer solstice, the Suitcase Singers and Claire’s other two choirs headed off to Watergate Bay on the North Coast of Cornwall for the Big Sing. A midsummer’s evening of music, art and dance. Given the weather recently we were prepared for the worst with brollies, thermals, scarves and all manner of warm keeping stuff, but we got there at 6.30 to brilliant sunshine on a clear beach miles long, albeit with a stiff onshore breeze.

We all laid down picnic rugs, opened bottles and stood and chatted while we did a quick warm up, then the first dancers did a wonderful dance barefooted on the sand. This was followed by several other choirs, then us. Standing on the stage there, looking out over a sea of rapt friends, with the sea crashing behind them, was an incredibly moving experience. We all shared picnics, drank rather too much wine in our case – it’s strange how it seems to go down very quickly on a beach – and had to retire to the bar to wait for our taxi. 8 of us shared a lift home and sang, to the bemusement of the taxi driver, all the way back.

MollieDog went to stay with my friend Sheila, round the corner, as I knew I would be late back, and as I have to go to Truro this afternoon, she is keeping Molls until I get back which is very kind. Though it is Very Quiet without my little girl.

I’m somewhat short on sleep now so forgive me if this doesn’t make much sense. There was an incredibly pagan, earthy, Celtic feeling over that, the longest night. And sharing it with some of my dearest friends as well as a whole beachful of singers, made it one of the most memorable nights for a long time.

Ch-ch-ch-changes....

As sung by the immortal David Bowie (for those of you young enough not to have grown up with his music) – changes are afoot here.

Firstly the result of Himself's coughing appears to have been by the drugs he's been taking for his prostate cancer. Oh, great. So he's been told to come off those straight away and have a month to clear his system before they put him on something else for the cancer.

I really hope to god it does help his breathing. It's exhausting, frustrating and debilitating for him to cough all the time, and for me it's incredibly difficult living with a cough like that that threatens to take over our lives. So fingers crossed on that one.

The second thing is that Kirstie Newton, the editor of Cornwall Today, goes on maternity leave at the end of this month, and Alex Wade, a highly respected journalist and writer, takes over the reins as acting editor over the next year. While I will miss Kirstie, I'm looking forward to working with Alex who sounds a fascinating character.

Thirdly, for any of you feeling a bit down, or in need of a change – try singing. I don't belong to a choir – that's a bit formal to describe us – but we are called The Suitcase Singers, and sing every Thursday for a couple of hours. The more I sing with Claire Ingleheart, our musical director, the more I enjoy it.

Last Saturday we had a gig in Flushing in the evening. Claire had done a workshop that afternoon with over 20 people and many of them stayed on for the gig. From there we went to the pub, relaxed with a drink for half an hour, and started singing again, sitting outside the pub.

It was a real example of singing crossing all kinds of boundaries. We sing a-capella (without music), and Claire chose several rounds that are easy for bystanders to learn but sound fabulous. We had a stag party that joined in (as she said, that could have gone either way but they joined in and had a wonderful time) and everyone who was in the pub came out and joined us, and gradually doors opened in the village and more and more people came to listen and join in.

It was a night I shall never forget. Hearing the melodies rise out over the sea, watching faces light up with the pure joy of the music, and a lightened atmosphere of sheer enjoyment. Claire is not only an incredibly talented musician, she is a great leader and knows how to manage large groups of people, which is vital in these instances.

It really was a night with a touch of pure magic.

Ho Ho Hum

A few nights ago I went down to one of Falmouth’s oldest and well known pubs (famous because the landlord is a priest) in order to hear the local shanty group. I’d been told that if you want to join, turn up at 8pm, so I did. No one was there. After a while another new recruit came along so we joined forces and waited. Finally two members came along and informed us that in fact they had too many members already and were in danger of being larger than their audiences, but we could come and sit in if we liked.

Having got that far, we decided we would, so we went and joined them. Half an hour later a few more trickled in but still no singing and after another 15 minutes I decided to go home. It was disappointing not to even have a sing, but more disappointing that they’d already got a full quota. I get withdrawal symptoms from not singing, and our next am dram production doesn’t start again till November.

When I told Himself, he expressed a Poor View of the shanty group (I think you can probably guess what he actually said) and suggested that I should set one up myself.

A good idea except that a) I don’t know many shanty songs and b) I couldn’t think of any friends that do sing.

But yesterday I met up with two dogwalking friends who sing – after a few pints – and thought Pip’s idea was an excellent one.

‘We can meet in the pub, have a few drinks and a good sing,’ said Viv, her eyes lighting up. ‘So what do we call ourselves?’

This is a problem. Shanty singers tend to have names like Wareham Whalers or Rum and Shrub. Himself had suggested Yo Ho Ho, but we thought we could do with something a bit more distinctive and remembered last year, when the three of us cleaned holiday lets and called ourselves Scrubbers R Us.

We came up with two options:

Hammered Slags,
or
Falmouth Shags (after the bird, of course).

I can see this group will have a long and happy future.