We came off the autobahn and onto a road which wriggled up a mountain until our route was blocked by cows coming down off the alp. Big, intelligent beasts with those huge brass bells at their necks, the size (and therefore tone) of the bell denoting their status. The clanging is musical but very loud. As they passed the entrance to the village carpark, one driver scrambled to get his car out before he got stuck behind their march. He only got part of the way through his u-turn, and the cows had to wait. The look of disdain bestowed on him by the boss Cow was pure Queen Victoria.
People gathered, 24 singers plus Mon, and we had a meal before the first rehearsal. Mon is recovering from 'flu and sneezed and coughed much; she drank most of the hotel's supply of whisky and whiskey (her voice echoing round the place: "anyone know which of these four whiskies will be Least Bad?").
The first run-through was a bit painful, especially the mangling of Monteverdi, whose madrigals are the most beautiful in the world but among the most difficult. We also had some easy schmaltzy madrigal-influenced American gleesongs, to give us a break. I do find it hard not to giggle in them.
We were puzzled by the decoration in the rehearsal room. A aquare of blue fabric, topped by a lighter blue scarf arranged in a swirl; flowers and three candles, with crystals scattered in a loose pattern around them. One of the hotel staff, possibly thinking we were some sort of meditation group... it looked good, anyway.
Mon says singing is a sport, and she proceeded to go through quite a tough physical warm-up. Then we hummed and vocalised - pick a note from this chord - in various keys, a lovely rich warm sound, perfectly blended.
It was raining hard (unusually, but Switzerland has even had floods this summer) until half-way through Saturday morning, and then the clouds began to clear from the middle upwards. Suddenly the peaks on the other side of the valley appeared, sharp and wild and looking very close until you saw the size of the houses near their feet. There were still clouds beneath the window; when they faded we could lean out almost over the lake many metres below. Deep and cold - the deepest lake in Switzerland.
Mon stayed in swiss-deutsch almost the whole time, which was hard work for me (I can follow a little Hoch Deutsch but they sound so different - f'r instance, "three" is "dru"), on top of the concentration required for the music.
Magically, by the time of the performance on Sunday we were not only getting through all of it, Monteverdi included, but sounding good!
Monica is a Director of the Tibor Varga Music Academy in Sion, Valais.
