The Madrigal Dinner
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
It was a day for the madrigal dinner. The fourth bi-annual dinner. Collette remembered the very first dinner, six years ago. No one had put quite as much thought into the performance the first time. There was no intricate plot or boars head, no singing of wassail or turkey legs, no elaborate costumes. They were just happy to have pulled it off for one night in the first place. Collette and Carrie-Bri had both rented their costumes from Chad’s Theatrical. Diana had borrowed an old red dress from Mercy’s mom. Carrie had made herself a double-horned Medieval hat; everyone kept calling her the “wicked witch” because of it. Collette did not even remember much of the script. She had played violin for “Barberini’s Tambourine” (a favorite of many of the moms in the home schooling circle, it seemed) with OLeif on violin, Mercy on piano, Louis on fife (of some sorts), and Peter on tambourine. Carrie had danced. She had sung alto with Carrie in the “mouse madrigal” with Mercy and Kitts as first and second sopranos. Snuffy had been the rather ridiculous-looking king, and Rapunzel Milk, the smiling queen. Paige Popp, Louis, Kitts, and Peter had been lords and ladies. Those were the days of the good madrigals. It was a simpler presentation as a whole, but it had been fun.
Meanwhile, Collette spent the day teaching Rose, who was beginning to greet every passerby who entered the room with:
“Why I oughta…”
And that was all she said.
Rose thought that their first performance had gone very well, that Tuesday night. And her hair had already been done again for the evening, this time by Carrie-Bri.
Joe had slept in from the night before. Rose was still irked with him that he had not let them stay to go to Steak ‘n Shake with her friends. But there was always opportunity that night again.
Somehow, Collette managed to get Rose through the majority of her studies around various breaks when Rose either added hot glue to parts of her skirt, bothered the cats, or searched for snacks. Come afternoon, Francis left the rest of a batch of chocolate pudding in the refrigerator, which he had just made.
“Behold – the pudding is gone,” Rose announced, entering the living room with the remains, already prepared to gobble should Francis protest.
Later, Rose heard a rather unhappy voice from the other room.
“Rose! Get in here now.” It was Dad, calling from the hallway.
Apparently Rose had forgotten that she had locked the cat in the bathroom, and somehow the sink drawer had been opened up against the door on the other side, preventing access, even with a key.
“Ooops,” was all Rose could say, as Dad solved the problem.
And she proceeded to work on her math at the kitchen counter talking about all of the “culmliomnimbus” clouds approaching from the west.
Meanwhile, the day was revolving around preparations for the evening, including the usual activities of the day. Dad had taken Grandpa a third time to get his blood tested and later in the afternoon had taken Linnea to her choir, Mom was teaching and finishing details for the evening, OLeif and Carrie were at work… where Lucia had still not arrived for the day and no one knew where she was. This involved about half an hour of phone calls between Uncle Mo, Aunt Petunia, Mom, Collette, and OLeif, until they discovered that she was still at home, sick. Carrie returned in the early evening talking about so far being the employee of the month at work…
“That bonus is so mine,” she said with a half-evil grin.
Joe ran some errands and the day brought in the breezes before a storm.
Finally, the evening had come. Everyone scattered their own ways. OLeif arrived to change into his clothes before Ben-Hur drove up to leave his car at the house (wearing jean shorts and a wrinkled Yamaha shirt).
“Oh, you dressed up,” was his only comment to OLeif.
After swinging by for Molly and her crocheting, which she would work on during the madrigal dinner, they were off to The Columns.
It was a good performance. The four of them were greeted in the foyer with a rousing greeting from Magnus who gave Ben-Hur a great hug and had him arrested by the guards and placed in the stocks. Collette learned shortly later that Dad had also been placed in the stocks upon arrival. The usual market people were present: bread-sellers and jugglers, Joe as a Moorish thief, guards with swords and great sticks, and other characters.
They soon found their seats in the hall, which was already mostly full. So many kids in Medieval regalia – silk flowers, ribbons, velvet, and over-dramatized British accents… the same every year the dinner had been conducted.
The whole performance seemed somewhat more effortless than in former years, more easily pulled off, involving several very creative pieces involving Shakespeare and his croonies, Beach Boys themed music and dance, and many other crazy things. Ben-Hur’s face was often so red from laughing, that it was hidden behind his program.
The plot continued throughout the evening after a good wedge of a salad was served, cornish game hen on cornmeal hash, and cake and coffee for dessert. During-dinner-shows included Joe, Wallace, and Curly serenading tables with music from the near east. This mostly consisted of Wallace and Curly banging out some semi-exotic music on various instruments, while Joe (hands folded in prayer-like position and eyes rolled to the ceiling) sang several chords of music to the only Arabic word that he knew:
“Habibi, ha, ha, habibi, habibi…”
Ben-Hur offered them bits of the loaf bread from the table in appreciation for their entertainment. And there were magicians, jugglers (including Mr. English), smaller madrigals, and other bit pieces.
It seemed as though just about everyone had some interesting part to play during the evening. Methodical and precise presentations, acting and juggling, from the twins – Lolli and Starr. Ridiculous serenades by Wallace and Curly. Annamaria and Tor were presented as a snappy lady and lord of the court. Collette and Carrie in particular got a kick out of watching the two perform. A juggling exhibition set to a track from Carrie’s Egyptian music. And a grand conducting of the entire choir by Curly, the jester, who dramatically bounced around the whole room during the song. Dances, madrigals, limericks, various instrumental and vocal pieces, more plot line, and everything else that a madrigal dinner required for good entertainment.
And three hours later, when the prince circled the audience’s tables in search of his princess, who should he choose but Grandma Combs.
They were all rolling from laughter and embarrassment. Dad was laughing so hard, the tears were beginning to come. No speech was necessary from Grandma, but she did sit in her throne for the last bit of the evening, waving like the Queen of England to the rest of the crowd. A crazy way to end the night.
And of course the usual speech of thanks followed from Mrs. South, thanking Mr. Sing and the sound man and the audience for their support. Then Joe walked over in his black face paint and foreboding Moorish garb. He carried a bundle of red roses.
“I’m here to give you these flowers,” he said.
And everyone applauded Mrs. South.
“We just wanted to thank you for everything,” Joe said. “For all your hard work and for helping us… with everything, all of the stuff… that you do.”
This was followed with laughter and applause. Joe returned to the choir gathered on the stage and they sang their last piece, conducted by Mrs. South – “How Can I Keep from Singing”.
Outside, lightening flashed, thunder cracked, and the rain came. The kids ran around laughing and chattering and cleaning off tables. It had been a good night for all of them. Another madrigal dinner successfully accomplished. And the festivities would likely continue for the kids for several hours more into the night.