Sometimes it's surprising the small things which matter but never achieve the success or importance they deserve. Such as these two much-used items from my kitchen drawer: a bent spoon which can balance on the lip of a mug, and a grapefruit knife which slices in 3 directions at once. A saucer which has the cup indent to one side so a biscuit can perch without falling, and a little garden hook digger which looks like a baby coat-hanger without wings are other miracles of practicality which make life easy in small ways. Simple, effective, unheralded. |
They are rather like a continuo player on harpsichord or piano. They are not soloists, they don't stand out from the crowd, but blend in to support and provide basic harmony. Work like Trojans for most of whichever work they are playing for, but are the quiet, background heroes of any mass or major work where they play a vital role. A skilled continuo player is worth their weight in gold, often required to read from figured bass and have a highly honed musicianship.
So I bow in awe and admiration to the organist who was asked late last night to step in to fill the shoes (or bench?) of a sick continuo player for a Mozart Mass for a concert this afternoon in St Mary's Pro-Cathedral in Manchester Street. He still hasn't seen the music, and has not rehearsed with the other musicians (and will not be able to before the concert), but I am certain he will carry it off with his usual professional aplomb. This will be like jazz in frockcoats. If he does it well, no-one will notice; that's the rub. It will seem like business as usual. Just like one of those small but important gadgets from your kitchen drawer.
Long live the professional musician - and good luck mate!
So I bow in awe and admiration to the organist who was asked late last night to step in to fill the shoes (or bench?) of a sick continuo player for a Mozart Mass for a concert this afternoon in St Mary's Pro-Cathedral in Manchester Street. He still hasn't seen the music, and has not rehearsed with the other musicians (and will not be able to before the concert), but I am certain he will carry it off with his usual professional aplomb. This will be like jazz in frockcoats. If he does it well, no-one will notice; that's the rub. It will seem like business as usual. Just like one of those small but important gadgets from your kitchen drawer.
Long live the professional musician - and good luck mate!