We interrupt this crafting blitz for a musical interlude.
I mentioned the oboe that had to make it through airport security. The reason it had to come with me at all was the potential trouble I would likely be in had I not. You see, I am named for each of my parents’ younger sisters. One is The Crafter, and the other is The Musician. Aunt Musician came to visit while I was up the mountain.
Aunt Musician was the child prodigy, picking out the tunes my mother and her older sister were learning in piano lessons before she was tall enough to actually see the keys on the piano. She is, needless to say, an accomplished pianist, and really likes making music with the various and sundry musicians in our family. I’m sure she would have understood if I didn’t want to cart the thing all the way up there, but I’ve been looking for a good
excuse opportunity to play, and we always have a good time together.
I was very silly and neglected to bring along any of my sheet music with accompaniments, so we made due with Mom’s collection of old church hymnals and a quick lesson in playing Beatles tunes by ear. The latter was moderately successful, as she was kind enough to transpose into playable keys and largely picked out the songs with easier melodies. (As a side note, “Because” is not nearly as easy to pick out on instruments as voice.)
We did not make it very far into the usual Christmas carols before she started trolling the hymnal index for interesting composers. I have to admit, I had somehow missed that a few of the hymns that had become staples in my church growing up were composed by Gustav “y’know… The Planets guy” Holst.
Then she got all excited finding the Ralph Vaughan Williams hymns. For the most part, they weren’t the most familiar songs. While I was impressed by their musicality, and had little trouble sight reading the music on the oboe, I couldn’t help but notice that some were rather difficult to sing. Then a nagging sense of familiarity finally floated to the surface, and I realized where I’d heard these before. The minister at my old home church is also a classically trained musician. I’d always assumed that he wasn’t intentionally picking out the hardest hymns for us to sing each week, but I figured they must be old standards from the churches he grew up in.
As I sat there listening to my family – many of them seasoned church choir members – stumbling over these melodies, I realized that our dear pastor must have used the very same method of choosing hymns that Aunt Musician was demonstrating. The old band nerd probably flipped back to the index and picked out his favorite composers, too.
Besides my moment of revelation, the evening was well spent. The eclectic music selection and familial revelry made for great entertainment, and I really can’t emphasize enough what a special treat it is to play with my aunt, since we live so far apart, but collaborate so easily.
I was even pleased to see that my poor unpracticed embouchure was able to hold up for more than thirty seconds, and my fingers could still find all the right keys. Now I just need to find more time to practice, and remember to take the bloody sheet music with me next time.