Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Tut tut.....language my dear!

Choir rehearsals are not generally known for their frivolity. More often that not, they just represent a lot of hard work, interspersed with a few witty comments shared with PSD. But sometimes, it takes all my strength to not guffaw openly.

Our conductor, affectionately termed Foetus, occasionally provides fodder for amusement. Whether it be his choice in headwear (this is one example he has worn), or his fashion stylings reminiscent of the period featuring Don Johnson, his comments and analogies he provides are often the more ridiculous. Recently he has asked us to "sing like elephants", trying to imbue in us a sense of the loping stride and the swinging pendula of that beast. The imagery almost works until he attempts to swing his arm from his nose, imitating the action he wants us to portray. The laughter takes over from the musicality of the moment. Nevertheless, Foetus enjoys using such methods of imagery to tease out the sound he is looking for.

It goes without saying, of course, that being a musical person, his choice of sexuality is in question. There are those who say that he keeps a foot in both camps (pardon the pun there). As for my opinion, I will relate my choir audition story, where I presented my piece to the accompanist and to Foetus. Asked what the piece was, I said that it is by Fanny Brice, but performed in "Funny Girl" by Barbra Streisand. The response to which, was gleeful clapping of hands by Foetus and accompanist. Stereotypes aside - that was not a normal reaction from a straight man.

Last week I had difficulty maintaining composure when Foetus said the word "breast" several times, trying to show the emotion he wanted us to express at that point of the piece. I may have mumbled to PSD that I am sure that is the only time in recent history that he has been in striking distance of said anatomical part.

But last night, I truly lost it. We are singing a Requiem, which is of course, in Latin. Now, Latin has provided me in the past with many a smile with the pronunciations of words lowering one to primary school levels of humour (what do you expect when you sing the words "Fac me" at full volume). Foetus was attempting to get the timing of the male parts of the choir in sync with his conducting. The word that the men seemed to stumble over was "Benedictus", which when exaggerated over a few notes can become a little disjointed. But I think noone was truly prepared for Foetus to exclaim, "Please, make sure your 'dic' is with me!".

Aaahhhh, gutter humour - can you ever go past it?

*PSD - Preferred Sperm Donor

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