Le lion est mort ce soir

Do you remember when holidays lasted forever? Long summer evenings that seemed to touch eternity, and come September, school ties and pencil sharpeners were a brusquely alien addition to an otherwise barefoot existence.

Alas, now old and wise, this is no longer the case. Try as I might, days and dates are not as easily forgotten, and the end of the holidays always seems to sidle up to me like an unwanted street vendor. Yet, I must admit that this year, with a full fifteen days for the spring holidays, it was, and seemed like, a fairly sizeable break. However, in this case, it was this ‘sizeability’ that had slightly worried me throughout, as the first day back to school (la rentrée, as it is known) was also the day of the whole school show for Ferdinand Buisson.

That was some seriously good forward planning. With every class having spent just under seven months preparing a programme of songs for performance, it seemed like madness to schedule the concert the day after a two-week holiday. But, this is France. And what’s more, this is rural South-West France. So really, anything goes.

Thus, the whole of Tuesday was spent at Le Centre Culturel de Sarlat – a modern, multi-function concert hall, complete with professional lighting, a complex maze of backstage corridors and really big squishy chairs. In fairness, despite fears that words would be forgotten, there really was no cause for concern. The children were fantastic. (Relatively) well-behaved in the all-day rehearsals, they then pulled out all the stops for the real deal. Each wearing a bright t-shirt and many sporting extraordinary hairdos, they all performed brilliantly - showing an enthusiasm and energy that was most definitely absent from Thursday morning ‘music’ classes.

Any nerves that the kids might have had were quickly dispelled. Not only was there an uncommonly noisy audience – waves, shouts and constant flash photography were but a minor distraction – but also Sylvie, the musical director (if it can be called that), was seriously chilled out. Introducing each song with quips and stories, she immediately set the children, the teachers (myself included) and the audience at ease. Furthermore, she was completely unperturbed by errors – if something went wrong, she would just stop and start again. Pas de soucis.

In fact, hats off to Sylvie. Left in the lurch on Tuesday morning by her fellow musicians, she was assured by the Valerie (the headmistress of F. Buis) that it was fine as there was an English assistant who was ‘really good at the piano’. They’ve never heard me play! For all they know, I could have the gift of the gab but about as much skill as a wallaby wearing boxing mitts when it comes to piano playing.

Thankfully, we pulled it off. I was about as chuffed to be asked as I was apprehensive about playing; after all, it has been about three months since I’ve touched a piano key. Somehow, with half a day’s practice, Sylvie, the children of Ferdinand Buisson Primary School, all the teachers (as conductors) and I managed to bash our way through our programme of songs, and made it out the other end in one piece. In fact, with two encores, I think they may even have liked it...

Afternoon rehearsals with Sylvie on the keyboard

My bunch of flowers... not going to lie, I'm so proud!

Although far from perfect, the warts-and-all performance was probably the reason why the concert was such a success. I, for one, had the time of my life. Never again will I have the opportunity to accompany a whole primary school, plus family, friends and relatives, in a raucous rendition of ‘Le lion est mort ce soir’... franchement, aujourd'hui il me semble que la vie est plus que parfait!