Here in Bangor, Northern Ireland, my summer flowers are blooming (and some fading) against the backdrop of an autumn mist. The summer is passing and there is a sense of one season blending into the next. As I look ahead to the new term, I can’t help but remember the hot summer of some 4 or 5 years ago that precipitated this autumn’s impending chief event.
I went to see Steve Goodie in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival for a couple of years in a row. Steve produced my last alum, and is a gifted multi-instrumentalist and comedy writer. He does a mix of Halloween in August plus a tribute to the famous tribute act, Weird Al Yankovic. It was very much worth the trip.
It so happened that at the time I needed both my knees replaced and was still on the waiting list. Edinburgh is full of cobbled streets and steep hills, which was painful terrain. I was hobbling on the flat along Princes Street when I realised I had come to the end of my knees’ ability to hold me up for that afternoon, and I needed a seat. To my left I saw a stunning church, but more than that I saw a sign saying ‘Coffee shop’ and where there is coffee, there will also be a seat.
My hopes of a caffeine shot and a rest seemed to be thwarted when the door was closed and a sign pointed down a steep, cobbled hill to the crypt. I rang the bell and a lady came and offered me a lift (literally, as in an elevator!) down to the café. Her name was Lynda and I got chatting to her, somewhat embarrassed by the level of assistance I had turned out to need that day.
Lynda had a story I couldn’t ignore. She wanted to sing in the choir but was mostly only singing with the children in the church. When she was young, some-one had told her she didn’t have a nice voice so she was embarrassed to try out for the choir. I hate that. I hear that all the time in my work – and usually the pass remarkable person had no qualifications whatsoever in music or vocal pedagogy, or indeedcommon sense… they just opened their mouth, flapped it about and -hey presto – turned their victim into a non singer.
I was not having it.
I had seen a piano on the way to the lift, and I dragged poor Lynda up to it. I played, she sang and it turned out that not only did she have a decent voice, it was actually very pretty. Captivated by this undiscovered instrument, I subjected her to an impromptu singing lesson.
St John’s Church, Princes Street, Edinburgh
About half a decade went by. Lynda had decided to take group of Scottish creatives to Lindisfarne, to build a labyrinth of art. She wanted singing to be part of this experience, so she typed into Google the words ‘Eve singing teacher Northern Ireland’. That was what she could remember about me and – lo and behold! – my website popped up.
We ended up Zooming and then I took my mother and nephew to meet Lynda in Edinburgh this summer. It’s all arranged that I will be going to the Lindisfarne at the end of September with my mother, who has always had a fascination with Holy Island but has never had the opportunity to go. I can’t imagine a more beautiful place to be in autumn.
I have been teaching singing for around 21 years but I have never taken a residential, so this will be a learning experience and a chance to be part of an amazing community for a week. Being Ulster Scots, I like Scottish people!
Maybe something small has happened in your life or work today. I hope it’s a door to an adventure, too.
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