Bach to the Blues

Do you suppose the universe won't let you play Pilate and Jesus in the same week? Is that breaking a religious code? I was supposed to sing Pilate in Bach's St. John Passion last weekend, and I'm playing Jesus on Good Friday. Both concerts were at the prestigious Winspear Centre, but for different musical organizations.

Lo and behold, if I don't come down with a humdinger of a cold. Bad enough that I had to cancel on singing Pilate. Now, Pilate is not a very large part in the Bach. It's not as tiny as Peter or Ancilla, but it's not a stretch. I've done it before, and I like it. But even a small role needs a voice. And my cold went straight for the vocal flaps.

For the first time in 30 years as a soloist with orchestras, I had to cancel. Not even enough voice to fake it. The production was saved by the timely intervention of baritone Michael Kurschat - who has my gratitude. And my fee. But he earned it!

It's been a week. By keeping my voice low and husky and sexy - and with an excellent mic and sound man - I was still able to host the Edmonton Vocal Minority cabaret: Sizzle! What a blast! The Chickadivas sang the first set - and if you haven't heard this lively a cappella group, run out and buy a ticket to their next show. The second and third sets were various ensembles and solos from the members of Vocal Minority and EKOS, two ensembles conducted by the amazing Paula Roberts. The evening proved that there is a depth of talent in these ensembles. Who knew that our amazing human rights champion, Julie Lloyd, is also an accomplished guitarist and singer? Or that the charming preppy Terry Harris is a born crooner? Not me. There should be a law against people being attractive, smart AND talented. Harrumph.

I alwaysmanage to pronounce someone's name incorrectly. This time, I ran all over the place checking to be sure. And I still managed to screw up - on EKOS! I pronounced it "eeee-kohs". Paula slid me a piece of paper to correct it - it's supposed to be like "echoes". Now, she said it would be fine just to say it correctly the next time I got up there, but I believe in transparency.

I fessed up to the audience, and told them all EKOS rhymes with geckos. They laughed. "Those of you who are laughing," I said, "have never been to the desert at night to hear the geckos sing. They're beautiful." A couple of the EKOS members said I'd solved the problem of a suitable mascot for them.

The other day I was stopped by a woman who lives in the apartment building across the street. She saw my picture in the paper for having won the novel contest, and she wanted to show me her poetry chapbook. It was really well produced. I was on my way to the airport and didn't have time to really chat with her, but she may be a good contact for an upcoming lit series at McDougall United.

And tomorrow it's Jesus. The piece is Allan Bevan's Nou Goth Sonne Under Wode, and this will be for a CBC national radio broadcast. It's a modern masterpiece, incredibly layered and effective, full of middle English poetry and King James bible verses. At the premiere two years ago, it made the Mozart Requiem seem anemic.

This time, at the request of the composer, I have been moved offstage so I can be the disembodied voice of Jesus. It's nothing personal - the published score has performance notes which suggest this is an option.

Walking back from the dress rehearsal tonight, through that strange mix of parking lots and ethnic restaurants and rooming houses that mark the space between the ritzy hall and my house, I noticed a flattened mouse on the sidewalk outside a hotel supply store. It was curled up and as flat as a sheet of bristol board. Maybe it had been inside the building and got hammered with a frying pan.