The annual spring gosling recital took place beneath the Old Willow on Tuesday afternoon before a gathered audience of approximately forty waterfowl, four dragonflies, and one coot, the last of whom had reportedly come for the seeds but remained — this reviewer notes, with approval — for the duration of the performance.
The programme, organised by the Reed-Bed Subcommittee on Cultural Matters (a body whose existence this gazette has, until now, treated with scepticism), consisted of eleven short pieces rendered exclusively in honks of varying pitch and duration. The full running order, as announced by the Clerk of the Subcommittee in the minutes before the first honk, was as follows:
- Overture: A Short Statement (attr. the smallest gosling)
- Three Thoughts on a Dandelion Seed
- Impression of a Reed in Wind
- Song for a Heel, Remembered
- Interval (brief, accidental)
- A Suite for Wading, in Four Movements
- Short Honk, Shorter Honk, Honk of Some Length
- Air for a Passing Swan
- Meditation upon the Hour Before Dinner
- Finale: Everyone
- An Encore, Unplanned
The opener, attributed with considerable fanfare to a particularly small gosling, lasted rather longer than advertised and was interrupted once by what observers believed to be the gosling briefly losing its place. It was recovered, and the piece resumed in a slightly different key, which is, in this reviewer’s opinion, how all openers ought to begin.
Three Thoughts on a Dandelion Seed was, in its second thought, the standout of the early programme — an unusually still piece which the second-row audience received, this reviewer noted, with a species of respectful preening. Impression of a Reed in Wind was sincere, if brief, and would perhaps have benefitted from a slightly longer wind. Song for a Heel, Remembered — topical, given the week’s news — was performed with feeling by a gosling known, in private circles, as Hettie; she was given, afterwards, a piece of pondweed by way of appreciation, which she ate on the spot.
The accidental interval, occasioned by a visiting heron’s brief and unsolicited arrival at the edge of the programme, was handled with poise. The Clerk rose, the heron retreated, and the interval was declared, retroactively, intentional. A second heron, possibly the same heron, was observed to remain at some distance for the duration. This gazette has been asked by the Clerk not to speculate.
The Suite for Wading contained some of the finest close-voiced honking this reviewer has heard all season, and Short Honk, Shorter Honk, Honk of Some Length was, in its title and execution alike, an essay in form. Only one piece — Air for a Passing Swan — was marred, and only by the fact that no swan happened to pass during its performance, which, while not the fault of the goslings, did rather alter its effect.
The Finale: Everyone was, in this reviewer’s considered opinion, fine, but loud. A fellow reviewer, writing from the lily pads, offered identical phrasing without consultation, which this paper takes as a mark of unanimity. The unplanned encore, requested by the coot in a manner that brooked no refusal, consisted of a single sustained honk which, through no clear agency, was joined in turn by every performer and a majority of the audience, building to what the programme will likely record as “Crescendo.”
Afterwards, the ensemble accepted gifts of pondweed and held a short discussion with the Clerk about next year’s programme, which is already rumoured to include — astonishingly — a piece of some length intended for two honkers in close harmony. The Clerk was unavailable for confirmation, having drifted.
This reviewer came for politeness and stayed, unexpectedly, for the art.
More to follow, presumably.