Singing in St. Austell
Warning! Ethnographic AND bbshop content!
Last night I came up from Penzance to St. Austell in Mid Cornwall to join my old chorus for the tree lighting ceremony, which is the official start of holiday "late night shopping" here. That's when shops in towns extend their business hours for one day a week during the run up to the holiday season so that people can do their shopping. St. Austell has never been a vibrant town, not since the height of china clay mining in the 19th century anyway. That industry has seriously declined, and, surrounded by ever shrinking and more isolated clay mining villages, the town has lacked investment and infrastructural development. I have spent a lot of time in this town and know it well. Before I left seven years ago, a plan was put forward to completely restructure the town center, which effectively means demolishing it and starting again. The process has apparently started and stopped several times, leaving gaping holes and piles of concrete everywhere, right next to the struggling shops and cafes. The final plans have changed several times, and it's quite clear that no one has any real faith that the town will ever be reconstructed. Apparently the cinema was just torn down. I could write a separate essay on the idiosyncrasies of that theatre alone. It was kind of shitty, but charming in its own way, and there was really nothing like it.
When my former director asked me if I would like to sing with them at this event I said sure, but really had no idea what I was getting into at all. I arrived at the St. Austell Travelodge last night so unbelievably tired with only 90 minutes to get ready and get up into town. The hotel is only a few years old, and like all British hotels comparatively expensive. I tried to get a B&B, but no luck (off season--no one is home!), and I really needed some proper internet access so that I could get some work done, so I shelled out for this. It is without a doubt the worst smelling hotel I have ever been in. The thing is full of damp. I moved from my first room, and the second was only marginally better. Clean, but the linoleum is peeling back from the bathroom floor and there are stains on the carpet. It's kind of a metaphor for the whole area.
I arrived in town about 6 and started looking for Madge and her partner Faye, who is a marvelous bass. I would love to quartet with her. I found them and big hugs were exchanged. I was so happy to see them!! I discovered that there were to be two parts to the event. The first was an actual outdoor carol service in front of the Church, presided over by two types of clergy, Anglican and Methodist (can't have one without the other here--cultural politics are hardcore). They had a carol sheet for the crowd, but I probably only knew half. British carols are frequently different than American ones. The key was stratospheric! I met up with the rest of the chorus and met the new members. There are probably about 25 now. They swelled to about 35 for awhile, but work and children caused some to have to drop out. We huddled together in the cold and braved a 45 minute service. Gill, one of the basses, clutched the South Florida Jubilee stuffed flamingo mascot to her the entire time. About three thousand people must have turned out for this event. The streets were teeming with people old and young. The ministers all prayed very sincerely for the regeneration of the town, and for people to stop leaving. They asked us to all go and please spend money after the service to help make St. Austell solvent. It was desperate and heartfelt. After the prayers and the singing a vent appeared from one of the pub windows above us and started blowing snow like clumps of soap bubbles onto the crowd. The obligatory Slade tune was played and Father Christmas pulled up into the crowd on a strange looking lighted chariot. Young people sang and pumped their fists to the proper opening of the Christmas season (where that song will be played 50 million more times), and we headed into the market for tea and the second part of the gig, which was barbershop.
The market is sort of half open to the air and granite, which means it's cold as fuck. Our director, Madge, had a song sheet for me and it was a really good, very barbershoppy Christmas set. I don't remember my faves at this point, I have the song sheet though to share. I remembered (sort of) a few of the ones I had learned before, and mumbled along with my compatriot baritones. Lindsey, my bari soulmate, now has an evening job and couldn't make it, so I was sad about that, but I sang with Kate and Shirley, which was good too. I like Madge's direction in general. Maybe she works too hard, but she is so precise and directs the nuances of each part. And the chorus sounds good. Very good! There isn't a clunker hiding in the bunch. The Sweet Ads regional management came to see them recently because they are working on membership, and they were told that they were probably the best small chorus they had ever heard in the UK. They won the whole Cornwall chorus festival last year, and like Wales this is a singing area! I'm so proud of them. When they get their stage presence down, and get some coaching in, they will be amazing.
Madge and Faye took me back to the hotel and we sat and chatted in the car for about an hour. They caught me up on everything and everybody, and expressed their excitement about being Sweet Adelines affiliated again. Madge has never the organization, but there has been a lot of concern about costs within the chorus. As I'm sure you've gathered, this is a very, very poor area. I hope they can compete this year. It would mean the world to Madge. They went home, and I returned to my smelly room feeling sleepy and connected.
Last night I came up from Penzance to St. Austell in Mid Cornwall to join my old chorus for the tree lighting ceremony, which is the official start of holiday "late night shopping" here. That's when shops in towns extend their business hours for one day a week during the run up to the holiday season so that people can do their shopping. St. Austell has never been a vibrant town, not since the height of china clay mining in the 19th century anyway. That industry has seriously declined, and, surrounded by ever shrinking and more isolated clay mining villages, the town has lacked investment and infrastructural development. I have spent a lot of time in this town and know it well. Before I left seven years ago, a plan was put forward to completely restructure the town center, which effectively means demolishing it and starting again. The process has apparently started and stopped several times, leaving gaping holes and piles of concrete everywhere, right next to the struggling shops and cafes. The final plans have changed several times, and it's quite clear that no one has any real faith that the town will ever be reconstructed. Apparently the cinema was just torn down. I could write a separate essay on the idiosyncrasies of that theatre alone. It was kind of shitty, but charming in its own way, and there was really nothing like it.
When my former director asked me if I would like to sing with them at this event I said sure, but really had no idea what I was getting into at all. I arrived at the St. Austell Travelodge last night so unbelievably tired with only 90 minutes to get ready and get up into town. The hotel is only a few years old, and like all British hotels comparatively expensive. I tried to get a B&B, but no luck (off season--no one is home!), and I really needed some proper internet access so that I could get some work done, so I shelled out for this. It is without a doubt the worst smelling hotel I have ever been in. The thing is full of damp. I moved from my first room, and the second was only marginally better. Clean, but the linoleum is peeling back from the bathroom floor and there are stains on the carpet. It's kind of a metaphor for the whole area.
I arrived in town about 6 and started looking for Madge and her partner Faye, who is a marvelous bass. I would love to quartet with her. I found them and big hugs were exchanged. I was so happy to see them!! I discovered that there were to be two parts to the event. The first was an actual outdoor carol service in front of the Church, presided over by two types of clergy, Anglican and Methodist (can't have one without the other here--cultural politics are hardcore). They had a carol sheet for the crowd, but I probably only knew half. British carols are frequently different than American ones. The key was stratospheric! I met up with the rest of the chorus and met the new members. There are probably about 25 now. They swelled to about 35 for awhile, but work and children caused some to have to drop out. We huddled together in the cold and braved a 45 minute service. Gill, one of the basses, clutched the South Florida Jubilee stuffed flamingo mascot to her the entire time. About three thousand people must have turned out for this event. The streets were teeming with people old and young. The ministers all prayed very sincerely for the regeneration of the town, and for people to stop leaving. They asked us to all go and please spend money after the service to help make St. Austell solvent. It was desperate and heartfelt. After the prayers and the singing a vent appeared from one of the pub windows above us and started blowing snow like clumps of soap bubbles onto the crowd. The obligatory Slade tune was played and Father Christmas pulled up into the crowd on a strange looking lighted chariot. Young people sang and pumped their fists to the proper opening of the Christmas season (where that song will be played 50 million more times), and we headed into the market for tea and the second part of the gig, which was barbershop.
The market is sort of half open to the air and granite, which means it's cold as fuck. Our director, Madge, had a song sheet for me and it was a really good, very barbershoppy Christmas set. I don't remember my faves at this point, I have the song sheet though to share. I remembered (sort of) a few of the ones I had learned before, and mumbled along with my compatriot baritones. Lindsey, my bari soulmate, now has an evening job and couldn't make it, so I was sad about that, but I sang with Kate and Shirley, which was good too. I like Madge's direction in general. Maybe she works too hard, but she is so precise and directs the nuances of each part. And the chorus sounds good. Very good! There isn't a clunker hiding in the bunch. The Sweet Ads regional management came to see them recently because they are working on membership, and they were told that they were probably the best small chorus they had ever heard in the UK. They won the whole Cornwall chorus festival last year, and like Wales this is a singing area! I'm so proud of them. When they get their stage presence down, and get some coaching in, they will be amazing.
Madge and Faye took me back to the hotel and we sat and chatted in the car for about an hour. They caught me up on everything and everybody, and expressed their excitement about being Sweet Adelines affiliated again. Madge has never the organization, but there has been a lot of concern about costs within the chorus. As I'm sure you've gathered, this is a very, very poor area. I hope they can compete this year. It would mean the world to Madge. They went home, and I returned to my smelly room feeling sleepy and connected.