LJ idol: coprolite
Choir rebellion
The choir was insufferably stupid. They couldn’t grasp the simple concepts of reading and performing music. Every day the director became frustrated with them. It only took 10 minutes into rehearsal before he began wringing his hands and coming up with cleverly worded insults to throw at them. After all, if they weren’t smart enough to sing their music right, then, clearly, they couldn’t decode his insults and gibes.
The members of the choir watched the clock during every rehearsal. They knew that when the minute hand reached the one that it would begin: the daily tirade. Today was no different.
“We have a concert in two weeks, and you all don’t even know how to sing straight quarter notes correctly. This music sounds like a great pile of coprolite.”
The students exchanged glances. This was a new one. Once again, they would have to hit the dictionary to figure out what exactly this insult meant. But for now, they dealt with the strange ways of the director. This class was required after all.
Everywhere the director went there were incompetent musicians. They didn’t care about the music or the performance. He couldn’t stand them. When his reign as head of the choral studies section of the music department began, the first thing he did was eliminate those who were not studying music professionally from the program. If they weren’t serious musicians, they did not belong in his choirs. The next thing he did was bring the multiple choirs the college had down to one choir. His one choir was only made up of those students who were required to take the class. The best thing of all was that his position was tenure. He would not lose it.
When the minute hand reached the two, the students began to sing again. They worked hard because they knew that some days dangerous things would happen if their director was in a bad enough mood. Those who couldn’t blend with the rest of the choir were made to lay down under the piano, and those who came in at the wrong time in a song were forced to sing the entire song alone. If it still wasn’t performed correctly, then the director sometimes made that person stand on a chair for the entirety of the rehearsal. The director had learned that negative reinforcement was a big motivator for those who were too lazy to do their work properly. Why should he have to go over every detail with these students? Why should he help them? They should help themselves if they wanted to become real musicians.
A senior in the back row glared up at the director. She was sick of this never-ending routine, so she decided that today, she was just going to sing, lead her section, without caring about the response of the director. She watched the director intently waiting for her cue to come in, counting in three in her head. The quarter notes would be perfect this time.
The director abruptly cut off his conducting: “Who is that? There is a soprano sticking out. I have told you time and time again that a choir must blend. Apparently, this coprolite sound is pleasing to you.”
He pointed at the senior in the back row and gestured for her to come toward the piano. She was told to lay under it for the duration of the hour. Her friends in the soprano section were appalled. They wondered what had gotten into her. Why would she do something so stupid?
After the rehearsal was over, and the senior had crawled out from under the piano, looking disheveled and slightly suffocated, her friends gathered around her.
“Why did you do that? What were you thinking?”
“I was just sick of it. He’s abusing us, you know. Seriously guys, we need a plan. If the school won’t listen to us when we complain, then we need to show them that we aren’t taking this lightly. We want this guy out of here, one way or another.”
So the students came up with a plan, which they hoped would not backfire on them. If it worked, then the awful director would regret treating them like dirt. They plotted, getting everyone in the choir involved in their plan.
The next day, during rehearsal when the director began his usual round of insults, the students waited.
“I thought we went through this yesterday. Obviously, you are too dense to remember the music we worked through. Let’s do the first 8 measures once again, and this time, sing like real music majors!”
He counted the beat, and they came in, but this time they sang badly, very badly. It sounded as though a group of six-year-olds had replaced the well trained college students. Their voices were piercing, deafening, and out of tune with one another.
“What is wrong with you!”
He pointed to the senior soprano in the back row, just as the others hoped he would.
“You! Under the piano! I know you are encouraging them to sing like that. Go!”
The senior stood straight and walked in front of the choir. She raised her hand and drew the entire group of singers forward. Half of them swarmed the director, continuing to sing in that horrible, childish way, and the other half gathered around the baby grand piano, which each of them had been forced to reside under during rehearsal.
The director did not know what had come over his choir. He could not comprehend the meaning of their actions. He stood in the center of the swarming students crying out with anger and confusion, flailing his arms, his head thrown back. Meanwhile, the students dragged the piano towards the double doors. There were 20 of them, and they pushed with all their might. It was a small piano and had to fit… It just had to.
A few minutes later, all the students approached the piano, which was outside the building at the top of the stairs. The director stood just inside the open double doors, screaming with fury.
“What are you doing to that instrument! What! Stop it!”
The senior girl led the students.
“On the count of three! Let’s do it! For all the times we had to squish under it! One, two, three…”
And the piano made a thunderous, resounding, unforgettable crash down the steep flight of stairs and onto the street below.
And then there was silence.
* * *
This has been my entry for this week in lj idol. Hope you like this random work of fiction. Thanks for reading
The choir was insufferably stupid. They couldn’t grasp the simple concepts of reading and performing music. Every day the director became frustrated with them. It only took 10 minutes into rehearsal before he began wringing his hands and coming up with cleverly worded insults to throw at them. After all, if they weren’t smart enough to sing their music right, then, clearly, they couldn’t decode his insults and gibes.
The members of the choir watched the clock during every rehearsal. They knew that when the minute hand reached the one that it would begin: the daily tirade. Today was no different.
“We have a concert in two weeks, and you all don’t even know how to sing straight quarter notes correctly. This music sounds like a great pile of coprolite.”
The students exchanged glances. This was a new one. Once again, they would have to hit the dictionary to figure out what exactly this insult meant. But for now, they dealt with the strange ways of the director. This class was required after all.
Everywhere the director went there were incompetent musicians. They didn’t care about the music or the performance. He couldn’t stand them. When his reign as head of the choral studies section of the music department began, the first thing he did was eliminate those who were not studying music professionally from the program. If they weren’t serious musicians, they did not belong in his choirs. The next thing he did was bring the multiple choirs the college had down to one choir. His one choir was only made up of those students who were required to take the class. The best thing of all was that his position was tenure. He would not lose it.
When the minute hand reached the two, the students began to sing again. They worked hard because they knew that some days dangerous things would happen if their director was in a bad enough mood. Those who couldn’t blend with the rest of the choir were made to lay down under the piano, and those who came in at the wrong time in a song were forced to sing the entire song alone. If it still wasn’t performed correctly, then the director sometimes made that person stand on a chair for the entirety of the rehearsal. The director had learned that negative reinforcement was a big motivator for those who were too lazy to do their work properly. Why should he have to go over every detail with these students? Why should he help them? They should help themselves if they wanted to become real musicians.
A senior in the back row glared up at the director. She was sick of this never-ending routine, so she decided that today, she was just going to sing, lead her section, without caring about the response of the director. She watched the director intently waiting for her cue to come in, counting in three in her head. The quarter notes would be perfect this time.
The director abruptly cut off his conducting: “Who is that? There is a soprano sticking out. I have told you time and time again that a choir must blend. Apparently, this coprolite sound is pleasing to you.”
He pointed at the senior in the back row and gestured for her to come toward the piano. She was told to lay under it for the duration of the hour. Her friends in the soprano section were appalled. They wondered what had gotten into her. Why would she do something so stupid?
After the rehearsal was over, and the senior had crawled out from under the piano, looking disheveled and slightly suffocated, her friends gathered around her.
“Why did you do that? What were you thinking?”
“I was just sick of it. He’s abusing us, you know. Seriously guys, we need a plan. If the school won’t listen to us when we complain, then we need to show them that we aren’t taking this lightly. We want this guy out of here, one way or another.”
So the students came up with a plan, which they hoped would not backfire on them. If it worked, then the awful director would regret treating them like dirt. They plotted, getting everyone in the choir involved in their plan.
The next day, during rehearsal when the director began his usual round of insults, the students waited.
“I thought we went through this yesterday. Obviously, you are too dense to remember the music we worked through. Let’s do the first 8 measures once again, and this time, sing like real music majors!”
He counted the beat, and they came in, but this time they sang badly, very badly. It sounded as though a group of six-year-olds had replaced the well trained college students. Their voices were piercing, deafening, and out of tune with one another.
“What is wrong with you!”
He pointed to the senior soprano in the back row, just as the others hoped he would.
“You! Under the piano! I know you are encouraging them to sing like that. Go!”
The senior stood straight and walked in front of the choir. She raised her hand and drew the entire group of singers forward. Half of them swarmed the director, continuing to sing in that horrible, childish way, and the other half gathered around the baby grand piano, which each of them had been forced to reside under during rehearsal.
The director did not know what had come over his choir. He could not comprehend the meaning of their actions. He stood in the center of the swarming students crying out with anger and confusion, flailing his arms, his head thrown back. Meanwhile, the students dragged the piano towards the double doors. There were 20 of them, and they pushed with all their might. It was a small piano and had to fit… It just had to.
A few minutes later, all the students approached the piano, which was outside the building at the top of the stairs. The director stood just inside the open double doors, screaming with fury.
“What are you doing to that instrument! What! Stop it!”
The senior girl led the students.
“On the count of three! Let’s do it! For all the times we had to squish under it! One, two, three…”
And the piano made a thunderous, resounding, unforgettable crash down the steep flight of stairs and onto the street below.
And then there was silence.
* * *
This has been my entry for this week in lj idol. Hope you like this random work of fiction. Thanks for reading