Born to Hand Chime, Baby

Last week for the first time:

Guest blogger Pauline played hand chimes

Being a lady of a certain age I decided to join the U3A.  Which for the uninitiated is University of the Third Age?  No, it is not a hippy or happy clappy organization before you ask. Various volunteers lead groups of over fifties to teach them new skills in the prime of their lives.  The scope of subjects is amazing. One can learn anything from Latin to Hand Chimes. 

Which joining the latter, brings me to being the guest blogger for Claire.

I decided as I have never played a musical instrument it would be very nice, as my family are all very musically talented, to learn something new and meet new friends.  Little did I know what I was letting myself in for.

On arrival at the local parish hall I was met with an array of expectant faces with quite a buzz about the place. Eventually, Patricia stepped forward and introduced herself as the leader of, hopefully, her second group of hand chimers which consisted of about 16 budding musicians of different levels.

We were all handed a sticker with our names on which we had to wear proudly on our bosom. Then it started.

A catalogue of do’s and don’ts, which left the majority of us wondering whether we had had a time shift back to school.  Nevertheless, we all smiled and carried on listening. We had to have special black gloves, ordered from the website of Hand Bell Ringers of Great Britain, so our hands wouldn’t slip and could we please have them for next time. 

Eventually we were all allocated a chime, but as I don’t read music it meant nothing to me.

Now a hand chime is a metal tube (even though it is square, I know, I know I’m getting pernickety) with a beater attached to it.  Each one has a different note and varies in size.

Patricia handed the three men in the group the larger ones and then sized up all the ladies allocating the size of the chime to the size of the lady.  I was very pleased as I had quite a small one, which boosted the ego tremendously!

We then stood round in a circle with a sheet of music between two people.  The problem was there were too many people and not enough chimes, so four of us had to share.  Which was ok, as one could look around and see chimers' faces as they struggled through the music.

After a very shaky start, we managed to perform quite a good rendition of Bobby Shafto – so I’m told!  I have to say it didn’t sound like it to me but having to concentrate on finding my notes, it could have been the Hallelujah Chorus.

I am by nature a giggler and watching everyone’s faces was very amusing. They ranged from the smug – obviously the music readers – to the absolutely petrified.  I was somewhere in between. 

The technique was explained in graphic detail from Patricia as though we were about to perform open heart surgery: 

• STAND UPRIGHT
• FEET APART
• CHIME IN AN UPRIGHT POSITION
• FLICK OF THE WRIST WHEN IT’S YOUR NOTE
• DAMPEN THE NOTE ON THE OPPOSITE SHOULDER BEATER SIDE UPPERMOST

All went according to plan until one of the ladies in my foursome came to play her note. Either in her enthusiasm or fear,  instead of the flick and dampen on the shoulder technique she completely missed out the flick of the chime and whacked herself on her left shoulder with such gusto it made the windows in the church hall rattle.

Everyone was stunned, Patricia looked over openmouthed and me and the other three ladies dissolved into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

“Time to call it a day”, lamented Patricia.

We all heaved a sigh of relief.  Packed up our music stands and gave ourselves a big pat on the back.  Well let’s face it, Bobby Shafto after one session is no mean achievement.

Will I try this again?  Well I have ordered the gloves and they won’t be suitable for gardening.