Once Works Well was pure technology. Now it seeks merely to divert.
Pansy subjects - Verse! Opera! Domestic trivia! - are now commonplace.
The 300-word limit for posts is retained. The ego is enlarged

Wednesday, 11 March 2009

New doors and a new sound

To the left is a new kitchen cabinet door, to the right an old. The “orphan”was mis-measured and will be replaced shortly. Lucy said it was a shame knobs were needed since the new flush-ness is the real attraction. Too late I discovered there are invisible openers whereby one simply touches the door. But with such a system one must always allow for the infant grandchild, Zach.

The renovation has changed the kitchen acoustics. Why? A close examination of the old door reveals imitation moulded ridges and a fake bronze handle. But a bigger difference is that these doors are solid wood while their replacements are possibly less absorbent veneered chipboard. Whatever, the room is more sharply resonant and would respond well to my trumpet (even if Mrs B wouldn’t) if I still owned my lip of fifty years ago.

So I sing to myself while preparing my brunch and later washing up after dinner. The repertoire belongs to the era when words were almost as important as melody. If you’re aged fifty or more, that means Rogers and Hart. And it means including the introits (not the right word, I know) that prefaced many of these great works.

Thus “Lady is a tramp” doesn’t begin with “She gets too hungry for dinner at eight.” But with a dozen-line recitative to an entirely different tune: “I’ve wined and dined on Mulligan stew and never asked for turkey, As I’ve hitched and hiked my way along from Maine to Alburquerque.” But you need a good acoustic and you need to be steeped in singers who always sang all the words: Ella and Frank. Brunch beckons.

4 comments:

herhimnbryn said...

Singing and brunch sounds good.

What a shame about your embechoure!

The Crow said...

When I was a girl, I had a wonderful crush on Frank Sinatra; his voice, anyway.

I'm no longer a girl, but the crush remains.

Barrett Bonden said...

HHB: Singing BEFORE brunch. Difficult to sing "Embraceable you" with my mouth full of toast, Philly cheese and Bovril.

The Crow: I was playing golf on a course laid out on the side of an extinct volcano near Clermont Ferrand and noticed one of the greens had been chewed up quite badly. I reported what I thought to be rabbit-damage to the pro. He scowled at me: "Ces ne sont pas les lapins, monsieur, ces sont les corbeaux." And then I noticed his golf bag. Snuggling between his driver and his three-iron was a shot-gun. So, stay away from the wonderfully named Club du Golf des Volcans.

As a fella, I was immune to Frank's crush-coefficient. But his voice plus his super musicianship have stayed with me into extreme old age. Starting of course with "Songs for swinging lovers" accompanied by the incomparable Nelson Riddle and his orchestra.

The Crow said...

I'm only a crow "wannabe," but I will heed the warning.