The Joys of Music

I'm sure Christine will appreciate this one.

So our ward choir pianist moved away this month. I knew this was coming, as the choir director had already told me that I would be taking her spot. This is no problem--I love playing for the choir, especially since it forces me to keep up my skills. Well, this was all agreed on prior to us finding out we were moving. Fortunately, they found someone to replace me, but she's never been the choir pianist before and is completely intimidated (our choir director is amazing, but some of the songs she picks are beasts on the piano). Thus, I am still playing for the choir despite the fact that I won't even be here for the Christmas program which we are already practicing.

Last night (yes, after Conference) we had a practice. I was honestly surprised to see almost the entire choir there. I hate to admit it, but if I wasn't the pianist there's no way I would have been there. Everything went relatively well until we got to "Silent Night." It's a gorgeous arrangement, but it's one of those where each part is written on a separate line. This has not been a problem in the past since the accompaniment has included all 4 parts. Unfortunately, the part they learned last night did not have their parts in the accompaniment. I could play each part individually, and even two together, but then the choir director says, "All parts together!" So here I am, trying to read 4 lines of music at the same time, not to mention simultaneously trying to transpose the tenor line (written in the treble clef) down an octave. I though I did relatively well, until I turned to look at the choir and saw looks of consternation from the alto and bass sections. I definitely got several "What is your problem?" looks. I tried to restrain my frustration by reminding myself that most of them don't actually read music, but it was still really irritating. Of course, those who did read music were giving me empathetic looks. Luckily by today I find this amusing, but last night I really was ready to give the choir a lecture on reading music. Sometimes I tell myself that when we move I'm not telling anyone that I play the piano/organ, but then I remember that whole "burying your talents" thing. I guess I can resign myself to being the ward organist for the rest of my life.