Day 10- Hugo

Thanks to all who have been diligently clicking on the blog's adverts- earnings have shot up to 23 pounds 80, so at this rate we'll be able to finance a B block trip to Hawaii come the summer. Keep the clicks clickin'.

Last night's communal sleeping quarters proved to be surprisingly effective, with the choir so worn out by the excitments of the zoo that pretty much everyone collapsed into bed shortly after arrival. We therefore greeted the shining pate of Andrew Manyard's head with commendable fortitude at the ungodly hour of our waking. Having struggled to the school's canteen, Alex Chance was dissapointed to find the legendary Krispy Kreme breakfast no longer in effect; F block found solace in the sausages, scrambled eggs, potatoes, mousses, muffins and mini doughnuts on offer, not to mention cereals such as Lucky Charms (which are apparently banned in England due to their high sugar content). A short post-meal break was just long enough for us to make the spirit-dampening discovery that facebook is banned on Woodberry Forest's computers, before we gathered for rehearsal in the school chapel.

Today is the only day on the tour that the choir have not had a concert, evensong or television appearance- the morning festivities, for want of a better word, were blissfully free from tension as a result, at least for the first minute or so. After that we were back to our usual bickering, with crumpled paper, bad vowels and rogue organists/organisms flying across the room. Forced to curtail the fun by an impending parents' meeting in the church, Ralph Allwood decided to seize the opportunity to get postcards written to associates of the choir back home. Overseen by Tom Norrington and Richard Gowers, these ranged from masterworks of modern prose (Edward Picton-Turbervill) to violently offensive scrawled notes (Josh Cooter). Still, as tour sage David Goode reminded us all, "it's the thought that counts. It's not as if you're writing to apologise for the death of a child".

At this juncture we were surprised and bemused in equal measure to find lunch being served at 11:30. Nevertheless, we loosened our belts and plunged once more into the depths of the canteen (for some reason this reminds me of John's short story). After more food, we returned to our lodgings in the Dick Gymnasium (yes, it really is named after Richard R. Dick III) in order to meet the individual hosts with whom we would be lodging for the next two days. Despite some unlikely pairings- Hamish Mclaren with a seven foot champion athlete springs to mind- most people immediatley struck up a friendly rapport with their opposite numbers as they were shown to their rooms. The afternoon was then ours to do with as we wished; predictably, there soon developed a large game of football, followed by British Bulldog during which we responsibly kept injuries to a minimum: Alex Eager's nose, Tom Norrinton's arm and George Wilder's shirt were the only casualties, and only the last suffered permanent damage.

Various members of the choir whiled away the remaining hours of the day in pursuits of their own devising, though the computers in the school library "strictly not for casual use" seemed particularly popular. Supper (basically consisting of more food- I could try to elaborate but the description of ever more school dinner seems fatuous at this stage) was pleasant and only interrupted by our sucessful attempt to start a canteen-wide happy birthday for Alex Eager. Daniel Parr had an even less welcome birthday surprise- in a moment of rare idiocy, he left his facebook page unattended (we had by this stage worked out how to bypass the school's firewall) and Philip Highy was left to rediscover his juvenile side with an elaborate frape (look up the term in an urban dictionary if unfamiliar). We had bought them both cakes to softens the blows, which we then promptly ate.

Tonight the main attraction in the school was the "mixer"- a dance to which girls from neighbouring schools were invited. At the time of writing, the inevitable cartload of outlandish stories have not yet become public knowledge, so they shall have to revealed tomorrow, but I can confirm that Laura Highy was seen dancing with Ludo Graham- we all wish them happiness together, and Ralph Allwod has already put out feelers about the choir's possible emplyment at the wedding.

I am struggling to find a suitable sucessor to sewage; I shall be forced to label the above undetermined waste. Tomorrow, hopefully, we will be treated to a less pungent offering.



Undetermined waste

Hugo Popplewell

Day 9 - Rubin again

Yo homies. What is up? Just some colloquial jargon I've picked up from this foreign land. Anyway, I'm back by popular demand, and I'd like to start by apologising for the lateness of this blog post. We arrived at Woodberry Forest School late last night and there was no means of internet until this morning.

Yesterday was, for want of a better word, interesting. Having departed Philadelphia, we continued the long running choir tradition of reading bed time stories to each other on the coach, whilst John Gowers honed his creative writing skills (which are already very formidable, might I add) by writing a story himself, involving James Harkness and a cup of very strong Earl Grey. Seemingly as if no time had passed, we had arrived at the Washington National Cathedral where we dumped our bags and headed straight for the Washington Zoo. Unfortunately the weather in Washington was wet to say the least and the torrential downpours put a slight dampener on things (no pun intended…honestly). However we made the most of this opportunity: most of B block spent their half an hour’s free time in the Starbucks across the road, whilst E and F block weren’t awarded this freedom and so spent their time in the Zoo restaurant. We did see some animals, of course; there were zebras and ostriches, the Highys saw some pandas, and Ralph Allwood saw a pigeon.

Soaking wet, we returned to the cathedral to rehearse for the evensong. Tom Norrington was given the honour of conducting the warm up, which consisted of the entire choir singing Alex Robarts' name in an arpeggiated fashion (very good for creating space and looseness in the back of the jaw, enabling us to sing like angels). The evensong went very well, with the psalms sounding better than ever and the anthem (Howells' ‘One Thing Have I Desired’) being sung with great gusto.

 

Washington National Cathedral, among the world's 20 largest churches

After the evensong something truly wonderful happened. Love at first sight is a rare thing, but Henry Seabright was blessed to be a part of it. Arm in arm with his faithful wingman, Rubin Patel, he approached a fair maiden whom he had glimpsed from afar and went in for the kill. Things were going quite well before the choir had to leave, but alas! Poor Henry, bless him, isn’t very confident in these situations and didn’t even ask her name (he was a blubbery mess, I tell you). However, all was not lost yet, as the brave and courageous George Wilders started blowing her kisses and threw them towards Henry, and before long two of her giggling friends came running towards him wielding a piece of paper bearing her contact details. Her first name, by sheer coincidence only, is shared by my great friend Mrs Seabright, Henry’s mother (Mrs. Seabright I really, really hope you are reading this blog…you can thank me later). Alex’s Eager and Robarts even got in on the action, returning to the cathedral later to hand over Henry’s details to her. Anyway, a great success all round, and in the words of the great American organist David Goode, “Way to go!!”
We were then treated to an OEA reception. The OEs are one of the main reasons that this choir tour is so heavily subsidised, so it was an honour for us to sing Under the Sea to them in the steadiest tempo yet. The Incognitos also performed their usual set, which was very well received.

We then hopped back on the coach and made our way to Virginia, with Hamish McLaren still flushed with embarrassment from his entire family being present at the Washington evensong. John Clay was treated to some interesting dancing from certain members of B block and Rupert Scarratt continually laughed like the seals at Washington Zoo. Hugh Cross couldn't stop shouting and Charlie Marshall still wouldn’t sit down, despite McLaren’s sternest Scottish efforts. Finally we arrived at Woodberry Forest School, where we were shown into a large hall with 40 mattresses. The staff were to sleep elsewhere, meaning B block were in charge. A good night was had by all.
Here endeth the sewage.

Sewage

Rubes
P.S. 2,500 views!!! And 6 pounds 30!!! I know you’re there, but don’t hide from us. Comment!!!

P.P.S Two members of the choir have birthdays today: Alex Eager and Daniel Parr...Many happy returns!

A quick message

I hope you have all enjoyed the blog so far. We have now raised £6.31 from readers doing as little as clicking on advertisements. I clicked on two just now and the figure shot up! Please don't forget to comment. If you have a Gmail address it is very easy to do.

I apologise for those who are waiting for yesterday's blog post; the huge mix of swill, blather and slops is being prepared this second (at the time of writing). These pigs' mouths are watering at the thought.

Richard Gowers, on behalf of the blog team

Alex Eager woz 'ere

Day 8 - Another collaborative effort.

Welcome to the stage Patel, “Berman the German”, Gowers (ma) and PT (ma).Despite Ralph Allwood actually turning up this morning, we still departed from Princeton late thanks to the bus driver. On the journey to Philadelphia, members of B block were treated to a series of bed time stories read by Alex Eager in the huskiest voice he could muster.
All was “ecky thump” according to Phil Highy, as we got off the bus in sunny Philadelphia. Mr Maynard directed the tour into Macy’s department store so that he could buy some underwear, and we were surprised and delighted to find the largest functional organ in the world in the shoe section (Max James even uttered a squeal of delight). Whilst the other members of the choir were trying to find meaning in their pointless existence, the great and mighty organists were led up to said organ for a guided tour of the console. Ed Picton-Turbervill (keeper of organs) will now describe it:
‘It was really big’.
Richard Gowers, who knows far more about the organ (and music in general), will elaborate on Ed’s fatuous comment at a later date.




Looking at the consoles


Richard Gowers writes:

Indeed it was big, Ed. We were lucky to have one of the organists show us around. He let us see, and in some cases touch, the console. I for one managed to play 15 notes while his head was turned. We were also taken to the string chamber, (the world’s largest organ chamber) housing over eighty almost identical ranks of pipes. A lot of the time we had to crouch under jutting pipes, except Jack “I’m the perfect height” Eastwood, who squealed in delight. It was hard to explain the scale of the organ to younger boys downstairs because the only visible part was not much bigger than an average large church organ. To make this worse, we were told that the visible section was not part of the organ and was a fake and empty case. This didn’t stop Alex Tucker being excited by the rolling cymbal stop which echoed from the vast percussion section.



The string chamber

 The organ soon became inaudible for the sound of Charlie Marshall’s stomach rumbling, so we were forced to leave for lunch (though not before Egor had invested in some snazzy Calvin Klein boxers). We’re fully expecting a spate of food poisoning, as some people ate at a very questionable Chinese restaurant and the other boring people ate at McDonald’s. James Harkness, cup of tea in hand, bought a hamburger just so that he could take a photo of it (to try and spice up his otherwise boring collection of pictures of sign posts).
We then took an extremely scenic route to St Thomas’s church, Whitemarsh. After the rehearsal, we were given an hour of free time, during which we were given three balls (“implements of sport” according to Mr Maynard) and told to amuse ourselves. We were then treated to a wonderful supper by the friendly parishioners, one of whom befriended James Harkness in frank conversation. Meanwhile, Tom Norrington (keeper of Mayonnaise)asked a parishioner “is this juice?” and she promptly replied “No, it is orange”. Ed PT managed to find a more socially acceptable conversation topic this time, and Joseph Boorman pretended to be Scottish to his hosts. The bloggers wish him well with maintaining this façade for the next 24 hours.
Hyper from the barbecue bonanza, a group of basses stole Josh Cooter’s trousers and gave them to David Goode, who became extremely flustered with this added responsibility. Josh Cooter spent the next half an hour running around half naked trying to rugby tackle Quintin Beer, along with most of the junior members of the choir.
The concert was relatively successful, with Adam Berman selling enough CDs to fund 3 more days of future Choir Tours. Thanks to Alex Chance and his throat ulcer, the choir is now down to 2 fully functional voices but we’re still going strong…Floreat Etona!
We hope you have enjoyed nourishing yourselves on our highest quality slops. Tomorrow the blather, swill and slops will all be combined into one gloriously messy mountain of refuse.

Rubin Patel, Ed Picton-Turbervill, Adam Berman (the German), John Gowers, Richard Gowers

Day 7 - John

Slops

This morning the choir was set its most important deadline: we had to arrive at the Holy Trinity Church in Princeton by 9:30 so as not to be late for our four-hour free morning in Princeton.  It is with great pride that I can say that every single boy in the choir met this deadline; however, I cannot say the same for some of the staff.  David Goode was mortified after turning up a few minutes late, and Ralph Allwood did not even deign to grace us with his presence.

The choir set out in small groups to explore Princeton.  John Templeton once said that "the best thing about Princeton is that there are no distractions". This certainly made a change from the sights of Chicago. Andrew Maynard certainly took that at its face value, choosing to spend the morning relaxing with a cheap thriller in the grounds of the famous university.  The attractions of the town were different for others.  I for one was rather taken aback to notice that Timothy Khoury was sporting a tiger's tail when he returned for the practice at 1:30 - my surprise was mostly due to the his skill in keeping it hidden from us for so long.  A number of members of our party, including David Goode found solace in Princeton's coffee shops, and some were delighted to discover the Princeton record exchange: Adam Berman left with no fewer than six CDs.  John and Richard Gowers spent the morning down Memory Lane, visiting the apartment building where they had lived for two years, and receiving a particularly warm welcome at their old Elementary School.  Max James and others visited Princeton's delightful art museum.  Several boys enjoyed buying clothes and books in Princeton: One senior member of the choir bought a delightful bound collection of short love stories, and I am sure that they gave him much pleasure.

The boys' plans for the afternoon were, sadly, dashed: Andrew Maynard and the rest of the staff decided that the hour's free time we were promised in the afternoon would have caused problems, so Ralph Allwood deliberately dragged our rehearsal on and on until it was time to be picked up by our host families: I for one have never spent so long on futile discussion about how best to organize the choir so we could find our places in the balcony before the concert began.  After the rehearsal, we headed back for supper, and then met in the crypt to get changed and get ready for our evensong.  Ralph Allwood had told us a few days previously that anyone turning up to a performance without their concert dress or music would not be allowed to sing: today was the first day in which this rule almost came into effect.  Henry Stacey had left his black shoes and smart shirt with his home-stay, but several members of the the choir, under Ralph's direction, were able to provide him with spares, enabling him to sing.  


Ralph told us that we were performing an evensong rather than a concert in order to cut costs: I like to think that this is partly because it costs $2000 dollars to put on a concert in the Princeton University Chapel (as opposed to nothing for a church service) and partly because Ralph didn't have to hire his speech-writer to think up fresh introductions for all the pieces of music.  The concert went well, in spite of a few senior boys who seemed particularly keen to keep their cassocks closed.  We must congratulate Thomas Norrington on remembering which bird is mentioned in Gerald Finzi's Lo, the Full Final Sacrifice in time for the concert: we had 'parakeet' and 'cockatoo' in practices.

O soft self-wounding pelican

After the concert evensong, the choir was looking forward to the ice cream very kindly provided by Samuel Jordan's family.  However, we were slightly taken aback to learn that there was a catch: we had to sing Henry Ley's A Prayer of King Henry VI before we could get our hands on it.  I for one noticed a peculiar yearning quality in the choir's tone as they sang, which I thought was rather effective.  We then helped ourselves to bowls of chopped banana with ice cream and chocolate sauce before launching into a performance of Under the Sea, for which the audience was treated to College Chapel Choir's unique sense of rhythm.  Our slightly depleted group of Incognitos gave us lovely performances of That Lonesome Road and Superman: it was so nice to hear them sing something different for a change.

It has been lovely filling you all with slops tonight; don't forget to keep checking the blog for more posts.

- John Gowers

Day 6 - Richard

At 08:00 a motley crowd gathered in the hotel lobby to go for a morning jog in Central Park. For some people, in particular Sam Jordan, this represented a normal part of the daily routine. For others this was a peaceful walk in an otherwise vibrant city. For Rupert Dower-Tylee this meant running straight into a bin and knocking it over. Similarly a street cleaner was the victim of Julian Hartley's sprinting head start. Joseph Boorman, who was perfectly aware that he couldn't run, discovered that he couldn't even walk and barely lost sight of the starting line. Having had our annual exercise session we trudged to the hotel to relax ourselves with mountains of pancakes.

After checking out, we ploughed our way, baggage in hand, down the streets of New York. Washing unsuspecting pedestrians aside, we reached Saint Thomas’s Church, 5^th Avenue, thanks to Mr Maynard’s usual seamless leadership skills, which were improved by a Statue of Liberty hat. Within minutes a downstairs room was buried in our clobber but it didn’t seem to deserve our attention as an hour of free time began. Some people visited an electrical shop filled with dodgy salesmen, one of whom tried to persuade Rubin Patel to take a photo of his eye while another tried to sell some speakers to Adam Berman’s back.

Upon arrival at Saint Thomas’s Choir School we feasted heartily on spaghetti bolognaise and iced tea, generously provided while the native choristers were on tour in Florida. Mr. Allwood pointed out that it was a 14-floor building whose only purpose was to accommodate and house the boys of the church choir. This was nothing to Daniel Parr who had had a similar experience at Westminster Abbey.

As we entered the church for our afternoon practice we were dazzled by the array of colour. At the west end there was a “batman style” organ (complete with wings, perhaps a contemporary twist on its intended baroque nature), while around the choir stalls we were surrounded by the pipes of another organ, massive and apparently doomed. Most of the church was dark blue, except the east end, which was a lot brighter. Fatigue hindered the efficiency of the practice but we were relieved when told that the service was to be broadcast on the Internet:

http://www.saintthomaschurch.org/calendar/2011/04/05/worship/1731/

Alex Chance should be congratulated for his choir-accompanying debut during the practice. He very skillfully held down the single chord which spanned the whole of Tavener’s anthem “What God is we do not know”, kindly stepping in for Mr Goode who admitted that he hadn’t done enough slow practice.

When more free time was granted, the James Picton-Turbervill/Justin Bieber ordeal was still not over. He was promptly whisked to Times Square where there was a shop offering customers 15 seconds of photographic fame on a huge public screen. The press arrived too late, thanks to a tight schedule. (Luckily the argument between Quintin Beer and Josh Cooter concerning the correct pronunciation of “schedule” has been resolved. Josh, who had been using the word “school” as an example to prove his point, and was quickly combatted by the nine different pronunciations of “ough”, cleverly managed to convince Quintin that he didn’t realise exactly what they were arguing about, and all was peaceful again.)

Despite the obsession with the Royal Wedding, the American responses at evensong included “O Lord, save our state”, rather than “save the Queen”. Numerous attempts to trick the priest into singing our version failed. Mr Allwood must also have been tired, as the second psalm was begun by his “sit down” motion but Edward Picton-Turbervill’s improvised organ voluntary was enjoyed by all.

The next stop was the Old Etonian Association reception, which starred the Incognitos and yet another performance of “Under the Sea”. Evidently the excitement of the coach journey to Princeton was so overwhelming that we all felt a need to sing the latter extremely fast. The high drinking age led to desperate measures in Alex Chance’s second excitement of the day: a huge bottle of alcohol mouthwash in the restroom.

“Unique New York, unique New York, unique New York”; try saying that over and over. We didn’t have to because the point had been made. Leaving the towering concrete jungle came with great sadness for many choir members, but the historic and peaceful town of Princeton promised to be as pleasurable an experience.

Here endeth the swill. Tomorrow we shall indulge on some fresh slops.

Richard Gowers

Day 5 - The Blog Team

Today the choir had its first ever stint on a live early morning TV show, that bastion of middle-aged femininity, the Martha Stewart Show.  Having our own hair and make-up artists was certainly a unique experience for most of the members of the choir: a special mention should go to Quintin Beer for his wonderful hair curlers, and also for the almost frightening changes effected in the appearances of Tom Norrington, James Harkness and Daniel Parr.  Andrew Maynard enjoyed having his bald patch pampered while reading the New York Times, while David Goode looked particularly striking with his wisps of hair arranged to dramatic effect.  Several senior members of the choir evidently felt that a more minimalist approach to sub-cassock clothing was appropriate to the occasion. 

The choir was disconcerted that while we had got up at 6:30 in the morning, Martha Stewart, that flaxen-haired temptress, only rocked up at 9:59:59.  Perhaps this was fitting, though, since the entire show was built on a nest of lies: she is not Laurence Booth-Clibborn’s godmother, but his brother’s, yet this did not stop her from demonstrating his culinary skills to the nation.  We should congratulate Laurence on his performance; however, we were surprised by his assertion that one of the languages the choir regularly sings in is ‘Asian’. The choir performed Henry Ley’s A Prayer of Henry VI.  Ralph Allwood was evidently panicking as Martha Stewart veered wildly away from the prepared script, and made the puzzling claim that the words to this anthem were written when the founder king’s age lay somewhere within the age bracket represented by the choir, meaning that we can narrow it down to somewhere between 13 (Jack Eastwood) and 130 (Andrew Maynard). 

Watch the Eton College Chapel Choir clip here:
http://www.marthastewart.com/show/the-martha-stewart-show/vegetarian-recipes

The choir were delighted to be informed that every member of the studio audience was to be presented with a special 400-hole steam iron and an sophisticated vegetarian cookbook, although Philip Highy was perhaps slightly less enthusiastic about the prospect of navigating customs with forty-five lumps of solid steel in tow.  Sadly, the morning was to be filled with disappointment for the choir; firstly as Martha Stewart welded the figure of a teapot on to the wrong piece of cloth, with a cheerful “Oh well, I can just stitch it up and make a lovely handkerchief”.  Then we were denied not only the irons and the cookbooks, but also a chance to ogle Eva Longoria-Parker after the show. 

The choir split up into groups soon afterwards to go off and explore New York City.  One group set out to visit Ground Zero and take a return trip on the Staten Island Ferry while the others were free to roam around Manhattan.  Visitors to Times Square might perhaps have been shocked at the grotesque sight of Timothy Khoury, Alexander Chance, George Wilders, Alexander Eager, Henry Seabright and Quintin Beer on a massive screen on the side of a building.  Timothy Khoury spent $90 on a Waldorf salad at the Waldorf hotel, thereby emptying his father’s bank account and his lad point account, both of which were on the edge. 

With his new found confidence following a particularly invigorating cup of tea, James Harkness decided to pursue a new path in life.  While Thomas Norrington was traumatizing a six-year-old at F. A. O. Schwartz, James managed to give his group the slip, passed through a tanning parlour and a gymnasium and emerged in his new capacity as a dancer in the hit Broadway show, Chicago, where the choir was surprised and delighted to see him, even if (or perhaps because) his character was killed only two minutes into the show by his jealous lover.  Despite James’s captivating performance, Ralph Allwood still preferred to go back to the hotel and sleep rather than endure the second half.  After the show there were many ejaculations of admiration from members of the choir. 

Thanks to generous donations from members of the choir, particularly James Harkness, we left with two posters signed by all the members of the cast, one of which will take up residence in the song room to remind us all of the tour and, of course, of James’s thespian escapades. 

More swill tomorrow.

 - John Gowers, Richard Gowers, Rubin Patel, Hugo Popplewell, Edward Picton-Turbervill

Special thanks to Joshua Cooter and Quintin Beer for letting us use their room to write this post.