Feest Isolation Days – 21 April
We listened to Elgar over breakfast this morning – the Enigma variations – and although we’ve heard it dozens of times, it felt fresh and new and necessary. Music speaks to us at the moment when there are not too many other voices that we hear. There has always been music in our home, whether it is me doing my vocal warm ups every morning in the shower and as I dress, or the classical music that is playing in my study as I work, or Hey Google who lives in the kitchen and sets us up mostly with Radio New Zealand Concert.
Choir has been on a Monday night for years now and I find myself yearning to sing with a group more and more. It just isn’t the same on Zoom. At least it keeps our vocal cords limber if we sing along with others. I say we, my dear husband, bless him, loves music and listens to it regularly but can’t sing a note. I have tried, but he really cannot match a note he hears. It’s a shame, as if he could find his musical voice, I suspect it would be excellent as he has such a wonderful deep and velvety speaking voice.
My bass clarinet is sitting in its case underneath the spare desk in my study and looking at me mournfully. If not now – when? It seems to be asking. When I was in school, I was given my older brother’s clarinet to play. We were all meant to learn an instrument and as the youngest of three, I didn’t get to choose, it was the old clarinet or nothing. Greg, my brother who was six years older than me, was a superb musician. He was the first chair first clarinettist in the school orchestra. At one of his final concerts he gave the conductor quite a shock when he stood and played his solo piece without the benefit of any music. The same conductor was also a sensible man, and when I got to High School he moved me from the clarinet to the bass clarinet. I was never going to become a first chair clarinettist, but as there were only two of us playing bass clarinet, we were always joint first chair. Clever man.
As an adult I have played in a few orchestras, but realised several years ago I had to make a decision. To sing or to play – I couldn’t do both. Singing won out and I don’t regret that for an instant. Until my bass clarinet peeks out from the desk and I wonder…maybe now would be the time to pick it up again? ook out neighbours if I do, I am very rusty!
There will be no Wimbledon to distract me this year. This morning I read an article about Novak Djokovic, last year’s winner. The Serbian said he is “opposed to vaccinations and wouldn’t want to be forced to take one’. This may mean he loses the ability to play and his world number one status. It also means in my book that he may be a great tennis player, but a really stupid man. When did vaccination get this sort of reputation? I shall be the first in the queue, but I suspect there will be a lot of other sensible people in front of me! Maybe while Djokovic is having some down time in his Monaco home, he might like to brush up on some science. Or death rates that occurred in the world from earlier pandemics before modern medicine intervened.
Meantime, the little girl who lives next door is walking around and around her garden for some exercise. I suspect when she can she’ll happily have a vaccination and will be grateful to return to the life she used to live.
Clap for Carers is each Thursday, and if I have anything to say about it, I’d like to also Clap for Scientists! They are working round the clock for humanity at the moment. Let’s hope they find what we all need sooner rather than later.
My Bass Clarinet out of its case!
And some musical entertainment…
With love,
Kathy x
p.s. I have not yet heard the bass clarinet being played. Ed.