So, the spring concert prep has begun. My semi-pro chorus reassembled after taking a month off to recover from multiple concerts in quick succession (each with very different music). Packets of music are handed out. Frau Doctorin Directress turns her back to discuss something with the accompanist. Rustling of music ensues.
Happy alto: Oh, we get to do [composition by chorus’s second-favorite composer]!
Muted cheers from the musical mob. More rustling.
Terrified tenor: Wait, we’re doing [fiendishly difficult modern a capella composition by chorus’ least favorite composer] too!
Basso disgruntle-o: [Waving good music] I think this is a bribe.
Grumbles, growls, and snarls ensue. We end up with four compositions either we know, we really like, or we know and really like. And That One. Yeah, “you’ll warm up to it! It’s an incredible piece.” Shuuuuuuuuure we will. Un huh. Riiiiiiiiight.
I think this is a bribe.
No question bribery is in play… LOL
Yes, it’s a bribe. but did it work?
Someone always wants you do do something “for your own good”–as they define it. Why can’t they just admit they like the bizzare, squealing sound and call it part of their price?
Sometimes it does happen. I had a similar experience once with a school choir assortment. We had four or five numbers to learn, one of which was a cute folk song we all loved and another of which was a piece by a very, very modern composer. By the end of three months we HATED “Charlotte Town’s Burning Down” and LOVED the modern piece. (It was so modern that the accompaniment did not give us our starting note — we had to magically grab it out of the air. Somehow we did!)
P.S. If it matters, the next year we found out that our music teacher had run off with a married fellow teacher, to no end of scandal…