G.P.S., and Cats

March 3: Charles and John Wesley (T minus 13)

I slept until 10:00, took an afternoon nap, cooked pinto beans, sauerkraut, corn, and rice for dinner, and finished the day with Evening Prayer, assisted by two cats.

Back in January, we decided that we had grieved long enough for our beloved Bernie, who died the same week as my Mother. For the next few weeks, we visited the veterinary office which houses cats for the county Humane Society, making the hard decision as to which cats to adopt. Mrs. C. immediately linked up with Angel, a chubby little grey-and-white cat whose curiosity, I suspect, had gotten her lost from a previous family. She appeared on a farm out in the county with a gunshot wound in her shoulder, and ended up with the Humane Society. We are fairly confident that she had a previous home, because she is far too cuddly and sociable to be a true feral cat.

My heart went out to Tinkerbelle, a large grey tiger-striped older cat who had outlived her human. She had been in the shelter for over a year, and when we visited, she would sit on a table and stare out the window into the hallway, and hiss at any other cat that came near – especially the playful little Angel. We wondered whether the two cats could co-exist.

When we got them home, Tinkerbelle disappeared under the bed for three days. Angel, meanwhile, had visited every room in the apartment within the first five minutes, and explored every corner, tabletop, windowsill, and chair within an hour.

But now that they are in a quiet home, they get along pretty well; they even play together and chase each other around the apartment sometimes. Angel is anyone's friend, especially if there is a lap available. Tinker is reserved, and a good kitchen cat. She loves to sit on the kitchen table and watch me cook and wash dishes. She stays out of the way and is not interested in nabbing little dainties; she just wants to be companionable. When she is not in the kitchen, she is most often in what used to be my rocking chair. It is now hers, but she will let me sit in it if she can curl up at my feet.

So, evening prayer at home is often with one cap in my lap, and the other at my feet. In iconography, St. Julian of Norwich is usually depicted with a cat; I suspect that she had similar assistance with her prayers.

March 4: Symeon the New Theologian (T minus 12)

I begin with three hours' work on music for this Sunday; two morning services and Choral Evensong. It is all in pretty good shape, thankfully.

This is followed by the First Workout on the second movement of Franck, an Andante. Compared to the many hours it took me to work through the first movement, this was straightforward; I worked through it in less than an hour. It is clear that having a well-defined fingering (which took a long time for this movement, with lots of finger substitutions on the chords, much longer than it took to give it the First Workout at the organ) will be of great benefit. With one more workout, this movement will probably be ready for performance.

Over lunch in my office, I receive a phone call from C.H., a notable friend of the organ, the organ-builder responsible for the instrument which I will be playing. He has heard that I am playing the Grand Pièce Symphonique, one of his “all-time favorites.” He will be out of town on March 16, and wondered whether he could come by the Congregational church when I am practicing there to hear it. The only possible time before his trip is Ash Wednesday. I warned him to come “not too early,” because it is not going to be in very good shape early in the day. I didn't warn him that it would be my second work-through of the piece. Or perhaps third – I am guardedly optimistic that I might finish the First Workout and at least part of a second by Wednesday.

It is an immense joy to finally be working on the piece. Once this Sunday's services are past, the Franck and music for a March 19 wedding will be my primary tasks at the organ. The wedding involves two young people who read these pages; A. and S., I send you my greetings. They made splendidly intelligent musical selections, and working on these things will be a good counterpoise to the Franck. In terms of work, the recessional/postlude, Bach's Pièce d'Orgue (BWV 572) is the greatest challenge. It will be a glorious sendoff to the newly married couple, if I can play it adequately. I have it just ahead of the Franck on my work list – it has been given its First Workout, and will get its second before I start through a second time on Franck.

If I could combine the Franck, the Pièce d'Orgue, and “Master Tallis's Testament” from the Six Pieces by Herbert Howells (this Sunday's Evensong prelude), I would be well on my way to playing a full recital. We shall see how it all goes.

After lunch, I dig in on the third movement scherzo: Allegro, tres lié. It is pianissimo throughout and must fly like the wind. I have worried about this movement, and will continue to do so, but not as much now that it has had its First Workout. This takes two hours. About forty minutes of that is on a four-measure passage near the end. I am stuck; it simply is not working. Finally, I change one fingering – one sixteenth note, from a 2 to a 1. That makes all the difference, and the passage now flows like silk, as it ought. These final forty minutes push me right through the time I had allotted for Evensong, which will have to wait until after this evening's choir dinner and rehearsal.

The final play-through at half tempo is especially important with music of this nature, and all the more so when some of the work has not gone easily; with the final play-through, one's final memory of the piece for the day is relaxed, confident, and (almost) error-free.