Organista
I’m back in the saddle. If the saddle is an organ stool. On Saturday I played the organ at a friend’s wedding – the first time I’ve been allowed near the instrument since the viol de gamba mishap of 2002 – and find I’m not as bad as it as I once thought, and that it’s actually rather fulfilling.
A pity that my set repertoire consisted of nothing harder than Goodall The Lord is my Shepherd and some hymns and that the closing Widor had to be piped through the PA, rather than, er, the pipes – neither the organ nor the organist being up to it, especially on short notice and no practice.
Like at Paddy’s in Oxford Oratory there was a choir loft so we were at the back and mostly out of sight, except for the Cantique which we trooped downstairs for (after a couple of false starts – thank you vicar).
The choir and I received a steady flow of compliments that didn’t stop until the early hours of the next morning – which more than made up for the shambolic Order of Service, miserable priest and vituperative hotelier (or which more some other time…).
Categories: Music
