April in Andalucia: the Jimena singing weeks
Not content with just one week studying early music in Jimena de la Frontera, I splashed out on the two weeks of Easter music courses that Andrew van der Beek had promised for choral singers. Just as well I did; I would hate to have missed either.

Dr Edward Wickham directed the second week in substantial works by Tallis, Josquin and Ockeghem, plus a local gem, so that week was irresistible. In the first week Carlos Fern�ndez Aransay ­ a name new to me, and one to remember ­ introduced us to (mainly) Hispanic four-part music focusing on Easter. The two concerts and the twice-daily rehearsals took place in the rebuilt but deconsecrated Church of the Misericordia, near the top of Jimena�s steep hill, and as lunch and supper were near the bottom of the hill, the walkers among us got fitter by the day.

With Carlos, we started in the early sixteenth century with Morales� Missa pro Defunctis, interspersed with suitable motets: his own Circumdederunt me and others by later composers, including Cererols� �Ay, que dolor!, Diogo Dias Melg�s� Salve Regina, both seventeenth century, and Casals� much more recent O vos omnes ­ all gorgeous, all rich and all typically Spanish in their depth-plumbing melancholy. An excellent teacher, notable for his patience and humour, Carlos also managed to get us to change gear sufficiently to sing P�rt�s Solfeggio and a couple of entertaining tangos to lighten the end of the Saturday concert. And one of these, Piazzolla�s Oto�o Porte�o, seemed to present the real challenge to those of us more accustomed to early music ­ but the sizeable audience rewarded us with generous applause, though whether for a good performance or a brave attempt I�m not quite sure.

The music in the second week, Holy Week, was a different kind of challenge. We studied Josquin�s beautiful five-part Miserere, Ockeghem�s Missa Cuiusvis Toni and Tallis�s second set of Lamentations, plus the Mozarabic chant, more of which below. Both the Miserere and the Mass were demanding, but the Lamentations I found really difficult, although ultimately rewarding: the combination of unfamiliar words and quite complex rhythms were not helped by being handwritten, so for me this was pretty hard work. Which may go to show why I have now learned to be a little less certain of my sight-reading ability.

Edward is a scholarly musician of the first order, but he is also a generous teacher (and they don�t always go together). As he explained, Ockeghem�s very fine Mass could be performed in any one of the four modes, with each mode sounding different, though the likely reasons for this remarkable achievement remain controversial. We studied the Phrygian mode edition by David Fallows and, for the performance, Edward had chosen to precede and punctuate the Mass movements with appropriate chants from the Mozarab source ­ to great effect.

The Mozarabs ­ Christians under Moorish rule in Spain ­ had been allowed by the invaders to continue to worship Christ; and their chants predate the more familiar Gregorian. For me these chants were the most poignant of the many musical treasures we encountered. They were specially significant in relation to Jimena �of the Frontier�, whose wild and rocky hilltop is full of the ruins of fortifications testifying to its history of invasions over many centuries, including the Moorish invasions.

Given this background, most of us followed the archaeologist Hamo Sassoon on a brief tour of the Roman and later ruins, before climbing through the hilltop wilderness to where he had discovered the rock-hewn remains of a Mozarab church. It stood in a glade near the precipitous summit, and there, surrounded by oak and olive trees. Edward led us in the Mozarabic chant for that day: Maundy Thursday ­ Jueves Santo. That was a memorable moment.

And just a couple of hours later there was a dramatic accident, when my friend fell from an unguarded roadside precipice and broke her arm (now mending well, thank you); she was swiftly rescued by several strong men and rushed to hospital to be x-rayed and have the arm put into plaster. The incident led to a police presence on the Saturday evening, both before and after the concert, presumably to reassure performers and audience alike; and there were promises of safety barriers to follow. Which suggests that Jimena could soon be a little less hazardous.

Spain was undiscovered country for me, and Jimena and its Easter weeks were a tremendous experience: apart from musical joys and revelations, and unexpectedly good audiences, there were streets full of flowers and amazing landscapes to explore ­ and of course new-found muscles and joints to put to the test on the unbelievably steep slopes.

Some thoughts on practising from "A Century of Curious Quotations"
compiled by John Catch

"And although the gamba has the most natural technique of all the stringed instruments, it is a stringed instrument none the less and consequently only to be learned by attentive and devoted practice...just thinking about it is useless without practice." August Wenzinger "Gambenubung" 1935

"Practise three hours a day if you are any good, four if you are a little stupid. If you need more than that � stop. You should try another profession."
Leopold Auer, quoted in "Szigeti on the Violin" 1969

"In all things worth while, a certain amount of drudgery is required. Why should music be an exception to this rule?"
Alec Rowley "Do�s and Don�ts for Musicians"

"If you work as hard as I did, you will do as well as I have done."
J S Bach. attrib

and a quote of my own from "On Playing the Flute" by Quantz 1752 (Faber 1966 ed)
"How much time beginners need to practise each day cannot be fixed exactly. Some grasp a matter more easily than others...Excessive playing, especially when one has already reached a certain age, weakens the body, blunts the senses, and destroys the desire and appetite to perform a piece with true fervour."

He concludes that two hours in the morning and two in the afternoon is about right.