Remember, I wrote a fancy last verse arrangement for a hymn, a few weeks ago? Well, yesterday I sallied forth to do my organ practice, and came back determined to go one step better than last time. This time, I wouldn’t write a fancy last verse, oh no!

I’d write a whole chorale prelude. In other words, instead of writing a fancy harmonisation to accompany the congregational singing, I would write a whole solo piece for the organ, and play it before the service. In my own defence, it was Harvest Festival today, which is quite a special occasion, and it’s all the more meaningful in a village church where there are farmers. Yes, I’m sure everyone buys their food in supermarkets, but there’s still a special connection with the land that you wouldn’t find in an urban church.

‘We Plough the Fields and Scatter’

It’s one of my favourite hymns. I was determined to write something fairly slow and gentle, despite its usual brisk and upbeat mood, since no-one really wants the organist belting out something loud and brassy before the service. People do converse – it’s not a recital. The louder you play, the louder people have to shout over you, and it’s easy to ruin any sense of quiet reverence or anticipation.

Ploughing a Lone Furrow?

OK, so I’ve set the scene. It was going to be meditative. I’d have the tune in the left hand, and a couple of bars of accompaniment between each line of the melody. It took most of yesterday afternoon and evening, but once I’m in the flow, I don’t like to stop. (Well, apart from cooking dinner, since families need feeding whether or not the cook fancies herself as a composer. And they like to be fed at set times, alas!)

I got it done and dusted. I have to confess, I was actually rather pleased with my efforts,  last night – I thought it sounded good. (I didn’t force anyone at home to listen to it, because I was wary of an adverse reaction!) Well, that was last night.

I got to church early today, and played it over a number of times before the congregation arrived. It sounded okay – not as glorious as I expected, but certainly passable, apart from a bar or two where I resolved to re-work it later today. Anyway, its premiere performance passed entirely without comment. Oh, well! A bit of an anticlimax, but I’m forced to concede that I was, to a certain extent, indulging myself in any case.

I drove home slightly chastened. How can something sound eminently satisfactory at 10 pm, and … not that special, twelve hours later? What happened overnight?!

I’ve spent another hour tweaking three bars that offended me. I’m sure they’ll make all the difference. Is it finished now? Who knows. 

Maybe Not my Field?

But I definitely won’t be giving up the day job.