SERIES On Wings Of Song by Joyce Begg

What does the Singers’ leader have in mind for next year?

AS with so many other clubs and societies, it was AGM time for the Kildartie Singers. As secretary, Lizzie spent half an hour writing up her report.

Charles, as treasurer, had a raft of facts and figures, which he spent hours on, trying to make things clear and even interesting for the choir.

But it was Rodney’s report that everyone was keenest to hear.

“I wonder what he’s got lined up for us this year,” Jane Frobisher said to Lizzie, as they came into Rose Lane school hall. “I bet he’s got some ambitious ideas.”

“Well, I don’t think the Scottish Opera Chorus has anything to worry about.” Jane laughed.

The hall filled up quickly, everyone looking with admiration at the splendid array of wines and cheeses that Katie and Pamela had arranged at the back of the hall. This was not only an AGM. This was a party!

Lizzie’s main function at the meeting was to take notes, but she had her own report to give as well.

This consisted mainly of the current membership numbers, attendance rates, and dates for everyone’s diary for the following year. She rendered it at speed.

Eventually, it was Rodney’s turn, and everyone sat up straighter.

“First of all,” he said, looking round the room, “I’d like to thank you all for putting so much effort into the choir. I really appreciate it.”

He then went on to talk about the last Christmas concert, and the spring concert, which had both gone down well, with nobody noticing the occasional mistake.

“After that,” he went on, “we had the Gala. We didn’t sound wonderful in the open air, but we did entertain the public, and I’ve since had three applications for an audition. So, how good is that?”

Eyebrows were raised, and smiles exchanged.

“Then, of course, there was the Sillowburn Festival. We didn’t win, but we did come third, and I have the proof right here.”

He lifted up the framed certificate, instigating laughter and applause.

“Now,” he said at last, “we come to what I think we might do next year. I wonder, did many of you see the school production of ‘The Pirates Of Penzance’?” Astonished silence. “Relax,” Rodney carried on. “I’m not suggesting we stage an operetta, but we might think a little along those lines.”

Charles turned to Derek Duff.

“If we’re doing ‘My Fair Lady’, I’m going to try for Alfred Doolittle.” Derek laughed. “What can he possibly mean? We’re surely not up to putting on a musical?”

“Or maybe a grand opera?” Charles’s eyebrows shot up at the very idea. “‘La Bohème’ in Kildartie?”

“What I would like to do,” Rodney went on, “is learn and perform a selection of opera choruses. There’s Puccini and Verdi and even Wagner, if we’re feeling strong enough. How does everyone feel about that?”

Lizzie caught Jane’s eye, reflecting that perhaps her joke about the Scottish Opera Chorus wasn’t so far off. Rodney carried on.

“Some time in the future, we might think of an entire work, an oratorio maybe.

“But this would be a kind of halfway house. Instead of a programme of all sorts of songs, we concentrate on numbers from grand opera. What do you think?”

The discussion was short and enthusiastic. There was not one dissenting voice.

“Right.” Rodney nodded. “Leave it with me. In the meantime, we’ve been asked to sing at a wedding in September, so would you please put your name down if you’re free to come on that date? If we agree to do it, we have to honour the commitment.”

The meeting finished soon after that, with an invitation from Rodney to enjoy the rest of the evening.

“I wonder who’s getting married?” Judy asked her husband as they began on the Brie and Camembert. “Is it anyone we know?”

“No idea,” Tom said. “I’ve still to see the clipboard. But isn’t it great that we’re being invited to sing?”

He poured them each a red wine, and they smiled as they clinked glasses.

“Good luck to them, whoever they are. Marriage is great, isn’t it?”

“Sure is,” Judy agreed, and wondered for the hundredth time why she was ever worried about embarking on it.

“There must be a song somewhere.” Tom laughed. “I bet Puccini had something to say about it!”

More next week.