Yesterday was our last day in the NYMT house, and today I'm back in London, desperately catching up on admin, which has included sending out 21 pre-ordered copies of the Pepys Motet, for which I made 21 re-enforced envelopes out of cardboard to avoid spending huge quantities of money on more official stationery. Nathan created a lovely little document for me which shows, at a glance, who earns what when an album is sold. The proceeds of the album are being split between the performers, all of whom performed on the album for nothing. That's why I'd like it to sell lots of copies! To say thank you.
If you're reading this, and you'd like to pre-order a copy, you can do so by going to:
Try before you buy. You can hear excerpts from the CD by going to:
The above link will take you to the fifth movement of the motet, the one which features the saucy accounts of Pepys' highly-charged relationship with his maid, Deb Willet. It's probably the rudest text I've ever set to music! You may well blush at the odd word...
Do buy a copy. Please! It is the most daring and ambitious piece of music I've ever written, and it's actually the reason why I write the very blog which you're reading.
The last day in Sevenoaks was triumphant. Sort of. The sickness bug continues to ravage the cast. Lucy Crunkhorn was back, but Adam, who plays Wrigley, was sent home. I'm told our choreographer has been struck down today. It's plainly something very virulent. I'm blaming the Swedes. I don't know: they come to this country, spreading their finely-tuned pop music, their blonde hair and their flu like viruses...
We ran the show. It was a little scrappy, and too long, but we got through it without anyone feeling uncomfortable. The cast decided they were going to put their heart and souls into the run, which was a great relief, because it meant we knew where the actual issues were, rather than trying to second guess which of the mistakes would come out in the wash when the cast were feeling more focussed. Processionals might have been tempted to use a first run like this to show us that they didn't feel on top of things enough to give us anything other than half-baked, "marked" performances. The Brass cast never does anything by half measures.
The day ended at 4pm. Nathan came to pick me up and we drove back to London. I was utterly exhausted. Too tired, really, to enjoy a lovely evening off. We ordered pizza and watched Ru Paul on the computer. Then I woke up and it was 11am...