SERIES On Wings Of Song by Joyce Begg
It looks like the Kildartie Singers will be busy in the next few months.
HAZEL BOYD had been appointed choir librarian when the Kildartie Singers were first set up, on the strength of being a professional librarian.
Hazel loved her job. She had an old-fashioned attitude to books, and had never lost her love for the feel and smell of new books. She would have felt deeply disloyal reading a novel electronically.
That said, she had to be very competent on the computer as part of her job. All sorts of information and adverts came through the internet, and it was time-consuming to sort out the important stuff from the dross.
She almost missed a message to tell her and others in the village about the Kildartie Gala Day, which took place each May.
Posters would be sent nearer the time, but in the meantime the e-mail included a list of the usual events in the gala, from the welly-tossing challenge at 11 a.m. to the barn dance in the evening.
The e-mail suggested that interested people might like to propose new events, possibly of a musical nature, to be submitted to the committee in time for something to be done about it before the schedule was set in stone.
Perhaps the recipients might like to pin up the e-mail somewhere obvious, and draw it to the attention of the public?
Hazel’s finger hovered on the delete button, till she thought better of it and moved to print.
Later that morning, in her lunch break, Lizzie Martin popped in.
“Hi, Hazel. Just bringing back my book before it’s overdue.” She smiled brightly. “What’s new?”
Hazel pointed to the print-out from the gala committee.
“Goodness, it can’t be that time already, can it? Oh, I see. They’re looking for new ideas.”
“In addition to the welly-throwing and wetsponge challenge.”
“They haven’t got, and have never had, anything musical apart from the barn dance. Not a folk band, or a jazz band, or . . .” She grinned mischievously. “A choir!”
Rodney Taylor sat at his desk in Music Room One, reading a letter that had come about the Sillowburn Music Festival, which took place in June.
Sillowburn was 25 miles away, but Kildartie High School had regularly sent instrumentalists and singers to their annual competitions, and the children had often done very well.
This year the committee was proposing to widen their remit and include adult classes in their schedule.
We propose to have singing competitions for soprano, contralto, tenor and bass, and possibly for duets and trios. We also intend to run a competition for adult choirs. The inclusion of these new events would depend on the response we receive from the public in general.
We hope that you, with your wide knowledge of music in your area, might bring this information to the attention of the many musical adults of your acquaintance, and that our festival would be enhanced by their participation.
“Blimey,” Rodney said aloud, and then looked around to make sure no-one had heard him. This would take some thought. It wasn’t something he could just throw at the Kildartie Singers.
But then again, why not?
Lizzie had thought she might phone Rodney and ask him to look at the advertisement in the library, then thought better of it.
It was not her place to suggest that the choir might sing at the Gala Day. They might not want to do that.
Rodney might not be able to fit it in. He had enough on his plate, with all the end-of-term musical activities. There was the performance of “The Pirates Of Penzance”, for a start, in which Hannah had a leading role.
No. She would forget it.
Rodney thought a bit more about the Sillowburn Festival, and wondered if it might just be possible to get the choir to enter.
As the next class started queuing up outside his door, ready for enlightened instruction, Rodney checked his e-mails.
There was one new message, on the subject of Kildartie Gala Day.
“Blimey!” he said again. “Something musical. Do they mean the choir? How can we fit all that in?”
But he didn’t say no.
More next week.