Karaoke night, and quite a night it was. Present from midway through were the vast majority of the Beggar's Opera cast and production team - including Helen (who had a small role with group singing and a few solo lines), Lyndsay (director), Chris (musical director, played an electronic keyboard set to sound like a harpsichord) and goodness knows how many others. Also present were a number of the musical theatre group, including CE. That's relevant.

By that point I'd already sung a couple of things; Frozen went oddly well, Wind Beneath My Wings suffered from a technical problem that caused the backing track to fade and die, although I kept singing for a while unaccompanied. Cue jokes about it sounding like an audition for The Why Factor; I was more thinking of a audition for the musical theatre group. Of which our host is a part...

(Tangentially: I have had it suggested that I should apply to be next year's host, and I am extremely tempted. Am working on the assumption it won't happen, but we'll see. First thing that will change; new songs. The last song list update was in November 2005. No, really.)

CE comes along. I suggest singing a duet with her at some point, because, you know, I'm writing a duet for myself and her. She suggests that I pick a song and she'll join me midway through it; I'd worry about picking a song that she couldn't sing, but we're talking about someone who can handle the role of Elphaba here, so frankly there is not a concern on that front. I consider possible songs, contemplate Relight My Fire with CE to take the role of Lulu, reconsider on the grounds of not being quite able to remember the verse (when in fact the correct reason was concern over it being too high), consider some more. Get approached by a random blonde to sing a duet. Decide it's worth it, consider options, wind up opting for When You're Gone. Split it up slightly differently, I took the first verse and her the second, and she was given the main melody for the final chorus while I harmonised. Was quite amusing, though by her own admission she wasn't that good.

So, then, I waited to sing with CE. And waited. And waited some more. During this time, I chatted to Lyndsay, and contemplated the viability of writing musical theatre parts for high female voices; I proposed G(a)linda as the template, Lyndsay pointed out much depended on the singer. (The unspoken: high female voices in musical theatre are indeed a bad fit, unless you're Kristen Chenoweth.) I chatted to Helen also, elaborated on the strategic plan, laughed at someone singing When You Say Nothing At All moderately badly (it was, I think, the first song I learned with Gemma, and I told Helen that), and generally had good conversation.

I then got called again. Oh, I was excited now. CE remained off the stage, she would emerge at the appropriate moment. Namely the end of the first chorus, for we were singing Against All Odds, and the strategy here was for me to sing the first verse and CE the second.

I honestly think I sung rather well. I was nervous as CE remained talking for some time, and audibly called her up a good three lines before I needed to. She came along. She started singing. Her first line was somewhat dodgy, and the microphone was rather further away than certainly I would put it. To the point where I didn't know if she could be heard.

Then I realised.

Giving CE a microphone is like giving NuLab the ability to remove the Human Rights Act. It adds power when there's more than enough already. This was hinted at when she utterly drowned out Surge and backstage techie Andy in a duet of Everything I Do, and was evident again here. Once she got going, she certainly got going, and I was very impressed. I harmonised in the extended final chorus, and all in all it quite worked.

Beckie - who is singing with CE in the SSAA piece I have written for our choir's concert later this year - told me, with no obvious irony, that I was better than her.

Frighteningly, I didn't immediately argue back. Granted, CE was probably drunk, but she sounded an awful lot better than last week when she certainly was highly inebriated...

Finally I was able to believe in myself. About time, too.

Spoke to Lyndsay again afterwards, asserted that an adversarial duet (Defying Gravity being the example I used) would work well, and that CE could do 'angry' quite brilliantly. Said the same to Joey too, and enquired about the new writers' showcase that the university's straight drama group put on annually, this year in May. (Last weekend was their improv-driven variety show; would have gone, but was warned that the techies would resort to Big Shinies given any chance whatsoever, and settled instead for sticking around after Duel for Thank God You're Here, which left me unexpectedly cold - perhaps because of being quite a comedown from the previous hour - but I'm quite willing to give it another try.) Sketches are around ten minutes' each; I'm trying to decide what to do with mine. Something satirical, that's for sure, and a parody of the game show genre through a contestant drawn in by an Edmondsesque host has room for making points about psychological pressure and individuality, which obviously is home territory for me.

Speaking of home territory, here's one for the irony books: the jazz/gospel choir I chose not to join on sensory grounds are performing later in the year... in Weymouth.

Upon arriving home, I wrote alternative lyrics to (part of) a melody that our main reader will be familiar with, relating to a current event; I will post said lyrics ifwhen this comes to pass.

---

Incidentally: when did Millionaire stop using 'it's only easy if you know the answer' as a catchphrase? I'm sure I've not heard it in a long time.

Of course, as dropped catchphrases go, Deal or No Deal dropping 'the show that gives real people a real chance to win real money' stands out as the most telling. Was that the moment that show jumped the shark?

Saturday morning saw me spend a non-trivial amount of money in shops in central Southampton for, I believe, the first time ever. It's certainly the most I've ever spent there.

Every purchase, though, has 'long-term thinking' written all over it:

* Pack of two airers, Argos. Saves money and CO2 from using the tumble driers in the hall launderette.
* Four rechargeable D batteries, Argos. For powering my cheap-but-useful electronic keyboard.
* Solar-powered recharger, Maplin. Which goes with the last one, natch.
* Old book of short classical pieces, Oxfam. Many of these are English translations; composers represented by more than one piece are Brahms, Schumann, Schubert, Franz and Arne (with two settings of Shakespearian text, one of which is familiar to me).

And here lies the long-term thinking. All these are written in the treble clef, are all seen as suited to transpositions of an octave... out of twenty-five, no fewer than eleven have a highest note of F5. Most of the rest seem to go up to F#5... on the other hand, precisely one goes below C4.

Oh heck, summary. I think we have a regular feature here.

The Hundred Best Short Songs, Book Two
Lowest note: B3
Highest note: G5
Largest range: compound sixth
Smallest range: one octave
Note: apparently Books One and Two are intended for 'Soprano, Mezzo-Soprano, and Tenor' and Three and Four for 'Contralto, Baritone and Bass'. The ranges of each other song in the other books are listed, though Two was the only one in this Oxfam; all seem to be similarly demanding, and roughly in an order from highest (One) to lowest (Four). The differences are not that significant, however; roughly one tone separates each book on average, and there is more intra- than inter-book variation.)

A mildly interesting comparison with Clarkson, there. Yes, this analysis is going to come with every book of sheet music I acquire.

There is now actually a strategy here, which shall be suggested to Helen tomorrow. Flit between styles - pop, classical art song, musical theatre - while making a general progression, specifically towards songs that stretch my range upward, perhaps working on other things. That said, the stylistic variation will account for those 'other things', I suspect.

One way to do it; after Breakaway, move on to one of the art songs, the obvious choice in this collection being the English translation of Brahms' Wiegenlied (Cradle Song), the range of which is Eb4-Eb5. (Read: Eb3-Eb4, in my case.) The next reversion to the Clarkson canon - which may or may not then be preceded with something from musical theatre, and if it does then that probably means I Couldn't Be Happier - could then be to Because Of You. Recall that this was recorded such that its highest note is F5, but is written a semitone lower. Instant opportunity for progression! After that, the art songs can come back, and then... goodness knows.

I am, of course, a strategist in almost anything I do. This is certainly no exception.

Choral rehearsal tonight, a short one due to exams; the new piece for the night was For Good. Yay.

Until I started singing it.

Overcome by emotion - and that takes some doing - I burst into uncontrollable tears, and was ushered away by our excellent President Matt, who sings with the basses in rehearsals (for that is his part) and helps out at other points. Waiting for things to happen. Things like this.

He kept reminding me that I really have made it here, to a good university, one that 'doesn't accept dossers' (and pointed out that it was only a significant event in Year 13 that stopped him from going to Cambridge, for he had received a conditional offer but circumstances prevented him from attaining it - instead, he took his insurance option of Southampton or was sent there by clearing, it was not clear which, and says he has still felt stimulated), and that the issues of independence had perhaps gone away.

All true. And all, in this case, completely missing the point.

Had this been, oh, any of the other Elphaba songs that make me cry, that would not have been so. But For Good is altogether different, relating as it does to a certain guilt in such detachment, of reflecting upon what has been gained from attachment, and it was that which made me cry. (Now, Defying Gravity, that be another matter. And Popular, another matter again. See posts passim.)

I now know the ranges of all four people in the acapella group. They are far too similar for comfort, and for the person who can sing A5 and the person who can sing F3 to be the same (CE) is not good... CE might end up as a second alto, and that is arguably a waste of her talents.

She can shine instead in her other performance, showing up yours truly in a duet...

(I'm going to have to re-tag everything at this rate...)

Non-singing stuff out the way first.

( A glorious incentive to use public transport, and a timely reminder of why I need to be more open with my family sometimes )

( Now the singing stuff, and some greatly unexpected developments on the composition front. Read 'Part 2' on the Mennyms audition first, for much of this builds upon that. )

So, The Mennyms. Auditions this week.

I only went and did one. I was hoping to glean information on how these worked, and also on the musical itself and its writing.
( At one end of the South Hampshire conurbation, Havant and Waterlooville were ready to shock the country. At the other, I was merely about to surprise myself. )

A most interesting post, and one that certainly points out the fallacy of 'high culture' and 'pop culture'.

As someone whose primary artistic involvement (and certainly field of knowledge) is in music, and specifically singing, that's the angle I'm going to reply to this from.

( And it's a reply that goes on a bit )

The year starts with a report on the biggest charity shop raid I've ever completed; standout findings were albums by two separate bands formed by students I knew from my secondary school and sixth form respectively. The latter might be interesting, a rock group with string arrangements, and the vocalist (the friend I knew) is a classically-trained soprano - the obvious reference is to Nightwish, but shall judge after listening.

Another find was a double album of musical theatre songs for £1.49. All various established performers, including Barbara Dickson singing Tell Me It's Not True (which Gemma taught me, way back whenever) and most of the expected songs up to the mid-1990s. I'll mention the others as I listen to them.

A diversion on that raid was to the music shop where Alice was purchased. There was a sale on some sheet music; mostly old exam board pieces for piano and sometimes other instruments, but also the odd album from The Dumper. The one I perhaps should have purchased, but didn't: Lucie Silvas, Breathe In, £3.99. The one I took a look at and rolled eyes at: Delta Goodrem, Innocent Eyes, £2.99. Now, I recalled Born To Try being a rather difficult song to sing, but lawks - F3-Ab5! That's... scary.

------------

The wild tangent was not unrelated to all that, but was sparked by a conversation regarding ATV's tweaks to their use of the soaps - replacing the Sunday evening slots with a permanent doubling of the Tuesday edition of EMMERDALE to one hour (presumably sparked by how special hour-long episodes easily beat EASTENDERS) and the creation of a Friday CORONATION STREET double-header in the same vein as that which exists on Monday - and the resultant weekend rejig, with DANCING ON ICE moving to Sundays in what can only be perceived as admitting defeat on Saturday to WHO... and, after THE ONE AND ONLY, the third BBC1 West End casting show.

( How do you solve a problem like a copycat? )

Consider this just a wild post to start 2008. Tomorrow - back to Southampton. Normal posting will not be resumed until at least Saturday, owing to Internet downtime at the university. Oh wait. I'll be in Fareham Friday, if I get lucky with the Cable Corp connection there then there'll be a blog post...

This is the time when most people are goal-setting, usually very poorly and with twelve-month periods in mind.

I, however, now conceptualise in three-month periods, given the now-immense symbolism of October 1 in my life.

That said, I also have rather long-term plans also. So makes sense to plan 3, 6 and 12-month goals...

By end of Q1 2008
* Complete at least three pieces of music totalling at least six minutes in duration that include a piano arrangement (of which one will be written for self and one for NI), and one a capella piece for female voices
* Attain a mean and median mark of at least 60 in first-semester examinations

{Incidental note at this point: Naomi quotes her useful range as Ab3-A5. I shall spend some time with her during the process of writing the piece to check for the best ways to approach notes at either extreme, and possibly to see if notes just outside this range are usable - she's produced them before, she's warmed up to C6. I suspect she's quoting a single usable range as a simplification, probably for auditions of whatever type, and that there are variations I have yet to understand fully.}

By end of Q2 2008
* Attain a mean and median mark of at least 60 in second-semester examinations (this may not be known until Q3, but the exams are in Q2)
* Perform a four-song set, to include at least two original songs, at an open mic night in Southampton, accompanying self on piano/keyboard without making substantial mistakes
* Become elected as Programme Controller for Surge (elections take place in late Q2)
By end of 2008
* Produce a CD of my own music (performed by self and/or others~) of at least 30 minutes' duration. Covers performed by self (optionally with others) can be included on this CD but do not count towards the 30-minute target


~ side note - this allows for both songs performed entirely by me (read: piano instrumentals, or songs with my own vocals and accompanying self on piano), by me with others (read: providing vocals and optionally piano, while having other performers - vocalists and/or instrumentalists - involved as well), or just by others (read: a piece for an instrument I don't play, a piece for one I do play that is beyond my capabilities at that point (most likely to apply to clarinet), or - most likely - a piece for female voice(s) with an accompaniment I would not trust myself to play). It is tremendously likely that all three will be included.

The white-and-blue LEDs I acquired at a discounted price within an hour of arrival at Upwey station last week are fabulous, and possibly better than any present I received.

I knew it was a cheap Christmas, announcements to that effect were made many weeks in advance, though after Mark had purchased gifts with value massively exceeding the anticipated amount (and, indeed, after I'd done the same to him). The real fun was guessing my presents, for I only placed one thing on my list: the Wicked OST, placed on the suggestion of Carly (after telling her that the sensory issues were probably all that could stop me from actually going to go to a production). Got that...

What did I - or rather EJ - say about musical theatre roles for female voices? Nobody told Stephen Schwartz. Three songs besides Defying Gravity have made me cry so far - the bad news is that our choir's doing one of them (For Good) at the next concert, and that's going to mean a few emotionally draining Sunday evenings. But we'll come back to those in a bit.

The main present was a new watch. It's in silver, and undisputably counts as a Shiny to me. Also acquired; a book of aerial photography of stadia (most or all of the 92 of 2006-7, plus the SPL grounds and Wembley Building Site/Millennium Stadium/Hampden Park) along with potted histories; the Private Eye Annual 2007, that's a three-in-a-row streak of getting that without specifically asking for it and being somehow surprised each time; a mousemat with calculator; assorted other nonsense. Quite happy, and not having a list valued at just shy of the amount planned to be spent on me made a rather significant difference.

Possible purchases for early 2008, aka 'what to do with money no longer spent on singing lessons': some earplugs that maintain more clarity than foam (these are a possibility, I believe they're sold in different packaging for about £16 in a music shop in Soton); probably more charity shop CDs, knowing me; an LED desk lamp (I have a tinny battery-powered one that is of little use); train ticket to Bristol, with the intention of using it to go to the Bad Shirt Casino and beat some sense into someone from a few rows back in the audience while observing if an unedited Noel is really that manipulative (answer: presumably, yes).*

* He says, hopefully. At the taping of FTROYL I attended, I started to offer advice (aka: 'stop at the fourth white in round one, damnit!' when Nicky seemed to be practically inviting some, and the warmup man stopped me. I forget if that was the couple that got away with it or not; I think it was, and after the fifth white the entire audience was crying 'STICK!'. They couldn't silence that one, and indeed the players did stick. However, GAMBLING PARTY has an established culture of audience interaction, even if much of that is done in a non-neutral manner.

We revert back to an earlier point about Sunday evening choral rehearsals; I have decided to seek a solo at the next concert. Hopefully of something written myself, but failing that it'll probably either be Iris (the sheet music for that, and the idea of performing it as a piano ballad, is one very good thing I got out of Shylo), I'm With You (which would also work well in such a form) or a musical theatre number of some description. This has a neat benefit besides the performance opportunity; I'd get to rehearse this separately with our accompanist, a certain Chris Allinson who was nearly my voice teacher anyway. Result; the undoubted positives of his approach, but with less formality and without the concerns over stylistic constraint to some extent. Oh, and for the bargain price of £0.00. Without a doubt, that plus any reasonable use of money previously allocated to singing lessons is a net utility increase.

Also hoping to write two pieces for the concert that others will perform; one SSA a capella piece (probably rather short) and one solo for NI. My ambitions are definitely growing, and hopefully learning some more of the rules will help me greatly. Some substantive collaborative project may also be a good idea...

(Desperate witty post title for post 101, there.)

Someone has sent me an mp3 of Defying Gravity, as performed by Menzel (yay!).

First couple of listens, yesterday... yup, it's over-the-top in every sense, and it just about gets away with it, probably more clearly so in context.

Last night, I found that my freezer door was left open at one point (it's awkward to shut and evidently I used insufficient pressure). That's a whole bunch of food needing to be thrown out and I hate myself for it. Very brief suicidal ideation at that point, for I am still that vulnerable.

This morning, a room inspection a week earlier than was planned, but by mentioning the original date, I managed to persuade them to revert to it. Good thing too, I'd have failed badly; in this emotional state of mine lately, maintaining a clean space has just not been happening.

I then listened to Defying Gravity again, hoping something so dramatically excessive would cheer me up... hang on. This song really is talking to me. Oh good grief this is practically a flashback to life at the Fortress. And then, as the song's lyrical emphasis shifts in the second half of the song, I am reminded of my successful detachment in 2006, and the most unexpected support from Weymouth thereafter, and the last two minutes passed in a flood of stinging, yet comforting, tears.

Not since January have I had such a powerful emotional response to music. The thematic similarities between the triggering songs is utterly beyond coincidence.

Two weeks of frustrating delay. One other huge event tonight (even if it does involve merely pressing a button twelve times). And yet this is still undisputably one of the biggest moments of the academic year thus far for me. Finally, the first lesson with Shylo.
( I did expect a long post here, but I never expected this. Includes digressions on the state of pop music, the songwriting process, a brief mention for Alice, and evidence of slavishness to Gemma that I need to quite literally break... )

Fair old walk to get here, half an hour or so and I only know the way for the first twenty minutes. Oh wait, I've overestimated the southbound part of the walk (which I do know) and it feels like I've underestimated the westbound part (which I don't). Although I'm walking past the Archers Road halls complex, soon after there is a real feeling of leaving the student quarter.

The eventual location is a flat in a four-storey building consisting of three houses (four? 6, 8, 10 and there was a sign for 10a being around the back). Shylo welcomed me in after a nervous wait for the door to open, and thus the lesson began. The room is almost a kitchen/lounge, there is a fridge-freezer and a sink (the latter being non-trivially useful, natch) but most of the space is just lots of storage space, much of it for music and stationary; a modern electronic keyboard is integrated into the space perfectly, on the wall with the window.

There was a bit of talking before we got singing, mostly about what I was looking for and where I was coming from, also involving Shylo explaining some of her teaching preferences (primary emphasis is on breathing; backing tracks are used in moderation; dictaphones or equivalent are desired for memorising exercises). Apparently, during this time Shylo was judging purely from my speaking voice that my singing voice was not as low as Gemma would make out.

The inevitable letter-finding followed. At the end of it, Shylo immediately said one thing: 'you're not a bass'. I howled with laughter. If Shylo is right, then Gemma was wrong.

And before you ask: G2-E4. That be a one-step transposition upward from last time I checked with Gemma, and I think the missing lower note was down to lack of relaxation in the jaw.

At this point, Shylo explained that her lessons are normally split into three parts; exercises forming a warm-up, covering already-taught songs with an emphasis on solving specific problems, then learning new songs. This seems a rational approach, not that dissimilar to Gemma's but far more clear and consistent. We did try out one song; after slight fussing over which one, the seemingly way-out-of-nowhere choice was Cannonball. Yes, that one by Damien Rice. Pushed down a bit to suit me, and it seemed as though things clicked second time around, a good sign of Shylo's ability to spot mistakes and home in on them.

The most overwhelming bit of good news on display here was that I can get on very well with Shylo as a person. Much amusement was had, much of it from the common starting point of songwriting, and it appears Shylo's views on teaching are rather close to mine and rather far away from the classical tradition.

What hope has Chris got now? Find out Wednesday night, the lesson is 1830-1930.

* Not involving Jamie Theakston, and hopefully not involving multiple schedule changes

Thought I'd blogged about this, but evidently not; I'm now on the hunt for a new singing teacher.

Should be a vaguely easy task, you'd think; there's plenty of singers in both popular and classical styles in any university city of a quarter of a million people, an obviously fairly substantial market for vocal tuition, and while there's going to be a non-trivial popular/classical divide I am ambivalent towards which side my teacher falls (though see also posts passim regarding the pigeonholing tendencies of classical training, and by means of redressing the balance the possible lesser emphasis on sound technique in popular styles implying a greater risk of a bad teacher in that domain). The benefits of being a stylistically ambiguous singer-songwriter, there.

That, however, merely means there are multiple choices. And while it took a while for them to form, they sure have formed now. As of this moment, there are three options.

( And they need so much analysis that a cut is required )

Went into Dorchester today to meet Florence. I've probably mentioned her before, she's a pianist/harpist/composer. Her parents wanted her to focus upon the first, her heart is set on the last, and at present the second is the priority, for she is sporadically appearing as a harpist in a country house somewhere in Dorset. She intends to study composition at Dartington next year, having found university life in Cardiff (studying Music) very much not to her taste. In retrospect, I could easily have been in the same boat had I gone to university in 2005, as she did.

The meeting was planned in light of how noticeable my possible depressive episode had become, and her comapny proved - not for the first time - rather cheering. I'm attributing this to how similar she is in many ways to the company I keep at Southampton, and the fact that I have good reason to trust her.

While waiting for her in our arranged meeting place, I entered the nearby music shop and stumbled across a mildly - no, more than mildly - interesting book amongst the sheet music. It was a book aimed at vocalists in various forms of contemporary music - the writer settled on calling this 'rock and pop' in the introduction. And what a fascinating introduction it was, almost a diatribe against the limitations of classical tuition, and almost certainly the first time I've ever seen anyone suggest even implicitly that the vocal range covered in opera is relatively narrow...

On one page after the introduction was a diagram of various notes, intended to show the compass of male and female voices in such music. Combined, they covered virtually the entire span of a piano keyboard. The writer was at pains to say this was not a misprint. Certainly, my own two-plus-a-bit-Gemma-ignores octaves looked rather limited in comparison.

That mention for Gemma wasn't unintentional. This part of the introduction could have been written to make me criticise Gemma. To summarise: almost all singing teachers pre-1970 asserted that females shouldn't push their range down too much, and males shouldn't push their range up too much. Many teachers (my reading: including Gemma) continue to think the same. However, there are a number of vocalists in popular music who have defied conventions of 'this is what you will/won't be able to sing' with success, and while singing teachers at the time did (and continued to) claim the inevitable result would be vocal damage, they have been proven wrong. Ergo, given the right approach, these limitations are by no means concrete.

It could have been written as a call-to-metaphorical-arms against Gemma.

In all honesty, I'm leaning towards a central tendency not far from your view, which was summarised in a previous comment to 'neither dismiss it {Gemma's perspective} out of hand nor accept it as the unvarnished truth'. More precisely, I want to tentatively step along the path of expanding my range upwards, just to see if it's a viable path to follow, and then creep along it carefully if this is practical. Florence seemed to be on similar lines, considering range expansion worthwhile but not to be done quickly.

The book in question cost twenty quid, which is barely more than I paid for one hour with Gemma, and while I didn't buy it there and then I am still sorely tempted.

Ooh, I wonder if Hels is still about?

To further the serendipity, both ourselves and another table ordered the same drinks, delivered almost simultaneously, and the two orders became confused. This was even more remarkable considering this also constituted my first ever order of coffee (latte, perhaps unsurprisingly, and while not unpalatable I would avoid it in future); the other half of each order was cappuccino.

First, the gratuitious link - From a CD I acquired in Poundland for the obvious value of 100 new pence.

And as if to prove your point that 'outside of the classical sphere, there are relatively few places for a soprano to show off her high notes', I am actually struggling to find a contemporary piece in my collection that contains a note that any remotely trained soprano would consider at all challengingly high.

And so far all I've found that could possibly count - Anjeza Shahini's Image Of You (Albania, 2004) and Delta Goodrem's Born To Try. And why do I even have those songs?

All this is simply making me interested in finding a female singer or two - preferably two, including one and only one soprano - to collaborate with and write for next academic year...

--------

Tangentially - is it just me who thinks the song playing now might work as a piano-led ballad perhaps with strings?

Alice update not in the form of a diary - things are going slowly better, organising lessons has been a pain but I'll be able to practice myself more now exams are over.

Southampton University has a music department. So far, this department has given me one voice teacher, too many feelings of cliquiness, just one practice room for the rest of the students to use across campus, and not a lot else.

Today, it's provided me with eight (!) vocal recitals at the on-campus concert hall, a 270-seat venue with brick walls, an organ at its centre and a semi-transparent roof with white lights upon it. In honesty, it resembles the set for Noel's Gambling Party, hence the witty title for this post (which isn't quite accurate, but it suits for comedy). I've heard six so far with two to come tonight:

1. JW (soprano or mezzo-soprano, neither the programme nor her performance made it clear which); a voice most notable for its volume or lack thereof, though it was by no means an unattractive voice. This is the kind of singer I'd probably have desperately attempted to write for two years ago, and wouldn't object to writing for now; the main benefit of her performance today for me, though, was to set a benchmark by which others would be compared against in my mind, and to provide a pleasingly soft start, only slowly building up with a Gershwin number at the end. A Wagnerian at 10am would be bad enough for most people, let alone me.

2. NI (soprano); ooh, this programme's very glossy and shiny and it's not in Times New Roman like the last one but in what looks like Garamond. Oh good grief there's only three secular pieces out of eight. And somehow she gets away with it. I want to like her less than JW, but have to concede she is probably better.

3. KB (soprano); she's singing from notes and not memory, so instantly she is worse than the first two. Especially as the Handel piece she's singing seems to go on forever. Oh wait - she gets much better. Good thing I couldn't leave the concert hall, for I'd have missed all the highlights. Speaking of high, we get a genuinely high note in one piece, the first one that's actually come close to scaring me.

4. EJ (soprano); OK, this is now getting ridiculous. Are they actually trying to disprove your suggestion that there are only a 'handful of soprano singers'? Are they playing to stereotyping? (A soprano I met at Fitzpatrick-era LJ suggests 'there are more sopranos than any other voice type', interestingly adding in response to my suggestion that styles other than classical lean more towards lower voices 'a fairly large majority of the voices in other styles would be sopranos if they were studying in the classical style'. Could that be evidence that in fact, classical training places an inordinate emphasis on the upper part of one's range?)
Anyway, EJ's actually also a musical theatre singer, she fits two rather different Sondheim pieces into her programme, and she sings the same Handel piece as KB ten times better, and only part of that is down to having a harpsichord instead of a piano accompanying her. The crowd has now quadrupled, as if knowing this is going to be the first standout of the day.

5. WH (baritone); good grief! Just when I was resigning myself to the prospect of a day of sopranos, we get not only a NotSoprano, but a male! A completely different Handel piece to start this, not least because it's in English. Indeed, while the sopranos sung more pieces than not in foreign languages, WH has just two German pieces at the end to meet what is presumably a requirement of the recital. The programme advertises the recital as being on English song, and in fact he walks off stage and on again before singing the German pieces. A pleasant shock to the system, and part of me rates him higher than anyone so far. But he's not singing from memory, which tips the balance.

6. MB (tenor); And again we start with Handel, different piece again. In fact the only person not to start with Handel was JW (who started with three Mozart pieces, two too many for the reader of this blog?), though this five-in-a-row streak escaped my attention until I typed this. The programme notes imply the pieces are challenging in range, but it doesn't show, and that's mildly interesting from a composer's perspective. The progammes, incidentally, bear a remarkable visual resemblance to each other, and both make far too much use of Times New Roman. I should offer my services as a programme designer next year...

7. KK (mezzo-soprano). Not working from memory. Wasn't convinced by her first piece. Got better, but I somehow expected something more impressive than it was. Having said that, had I come in with lower expectations I'd have been very impressed indeed.

8. EM (soprano). Probably my favourite of the night. Nothing wrong, plenty right, she showed off the right amount, and basically I couldn't see much wrong with it and wasn't in much of a state for analysis. And I got to speak to her afterwards, which is why this update was delayed; she said a few interesting things, notably one that relates to 2.

Few things I have on my mind about this:
1. Are there really that many sopranos? If there were in the general population, popular music would surely sit higher than it does.

2. We may have missed one thing - the nature of the distribution. Perhaps there's an asymmetrical distribution, with a long tail of higher voices (a very few extremely high voices, a greater but still modest number of moderately high voices), the greatest concentration sitting moderately low, but then a rapid tailing off? And is this distribution affected by training being skewed towards one end of one's range, which I would imagine is more likely to be the higher part? Edit: EM, and one of ther friends, says it's easier to expand one's range upward than it is downward. Worth pointing out in this context: in November 2006 my lowest note was F2. In June 2007, my lowest note... F2. In the intervening period, I did little but sing low in my voice lessons...

3. Is the typical gender difference actually one octave? The same person who suggested the typical female voice is soprano also said the typical male voice is baritone...

4. All of these are classical singers, though EJ (and NI, according to her programme notes) are primarily involved in musical theatre. (I'd have enjoyed NI's programme much more if she'd had more musical theatre pieces. Or just more secular pieces would be a start.)

5. I note, with interest, that each of the different accompanists (there were four: WH, JW and MB all had the same one) was using the sheet music, and had a page-turner. How surprising is it that not one was playing from memory, given that four of the singers were and the other two arguably should have been? Answered.