Skip to main content

The Perils of Giving "The Lonely Goatherd" the Method Treatment...





  Yesterday I watched - and loved - the live broadcast of The Sound and Music. 
  'Finally!' Rukan al Daher commented when I told her. 'I've been waiting to chew it over with you. Surely you didn't love the simplified performance of "The Lonely Goatherd"? You were so strict with us studying that song at Guildford.'
  I remember...

  'Your yodeling isn't nearly specific enough, Rukan,' I had begun by saying, sometime in the summer term, nineteen ninety-three. 'The goatherd is lonely. You just sound poised. Beautifully poised, but not lonely.'
  Rukan was a friend of the Saudi Arabian royal family and these days can be seen introducing the Jordanian Eurovision entry. She had another go at sounding lonely in her yodeling. 
  'Excellent.  Real sense of isolation,' I said, vamping along on the damp-ridden piano in the Founder's Studio. 'Er... why are you sounding upper-class now?'
  'Prince on the bridge, love; I was trying for regal.'
  'But the prince isn't yodeling on the bridge, he's just bystanding on it, overhearing.'
  'Good point.'
  She sang on. 
  'Okay, okay...yup. But listen: now, our goatherd is directly addressing - as opposed to being overheard by - the one little girl in the pale pink coat. She yodels back and but one yodeling chorus later, has a child by him. So, let's please have our goatherd sounding ball-quiveringly randy.'  
  Her glance fell on the dictaphone with which she recorded all her tutorials at Guildford.
  'Iestyn, I have to transcribe this tape, and give my notes to the official sponsors back home, showing that I've been using state money wisely and that I've not been disregarding let alone offending religious law. So, my goatherd's yodeling will just have to sound like his family and the mama with the gleaming gloat have got together previously and drawn up a mutually beneficial betrothal contract, acceptable in the sight of God.'  She pointed a forefinger at me. 'I like the soles of my feet unwhipped, thanks.'
  
  

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My Mate Jamie-Ray Hartshorne

     I've been noticing that alongside photos of Jamie-Ray being a lead in Altar Boys , creating Change My Body UK TM , working the door at Freedom - and clearly asking people passing by wherever that rockpool may be to snap a double-bicep - this sort of thing is cropping up on his social media:   We're in The Diner, Jamestown Road, Camden.  He's between tour dates of  The Bodyguard,  and meetings to discuss sportswear and creatine endorsements.  The latter, he says, being all about making his product better.   Between sips of his peanut butter milkshake (he's allowing himself dairy today in my honour - I don't quite know how to take that) he says in his soft Brum, 'I've signed up for a major Muay Thai event in Thailand next February.  I'm going up against one of the Thai fighters.  That's the only real way to gain any respect in the fighting world.  That's why you've been noticing the combat photos.  I...

Psychic Readings

  As it's Summer Solstice, let's revisit my mother's lodge for a seance.  We know from a previous blog entry that lodge members are asked only to heal, and to have no truck with past lives and spirit guides.  See:   Previous blog featuring the lodge...   On the QT they have seances, at which the medium tunes in to great mysteries of the past.  Here are some of the readings.  I've taken out anything that explicitly reveals the subject of the reading.  Then we can play at guessing what it might be...      'There's something to do with a pile of tied up newspapers.  Was there an evening paper delivery?  They need to talk to the paper boy from back then as he saw something relevant but didn't understand at the time what it was he was seeing. There's also something to do with the plants by the front door.  The leaves of one of them were too dark to have been real.  Put there on purpose to deflect attention from ...

How to...Self-Assessment Tax

   As we near the end of the year a performer's thoughts will turn to the dreaded self assessment tax return.  Eight years ago I made a pact with myself never again to put myself through those two days of surfing receipts; forging official contracts for looking after Lady Carter's pug Mr Timothy; wondering if I would get away with claiming for two pints of Fullers Honeydew, bought to silence a city boy smoking outside the Rising Sun in Cloth Fair, after he saw me help myself to some of the festive flora on the railings of St Barts church to arrange in my hair having forgotten my tiara for a Christmas gig at Club Kabaret .    I now do a mini-tax return each month when my bank statements come, and simply tot up the running total on April 6th when I submit my HMRC self-assessment return.    Of all the self-employed professions, performers and cab drivers most frequently underpay tax; ergo they are the two professions most likely to be audited by HMRC ...