Stabat Mater

It was the first Lunch Hour Concert of the second semester, and Pliny was there with her mum to hear the Young Adelaide Voices sing Pergolesi's Stabat Mater.

Pliny's mum had a horrendous cough and cold, and feared lest she should suddenly erupt. Pliny too, had a younger version of the same thing and was also fearful. They sat on the end of a row near a door, just in case.

Stabat mater dolorosa, sang the young voices cheerfully. Pliny had thought this song was about Mary standing below the cross, but realised Pergolesi's version was about not letting anything get you down.

Eja mater fons amoris. The uplifting music must have worked its spell, for Pliny's mum sat through the whole performance without a peep, and Pliny herself had only one small hiccup.

This occurred during stanza 8, in which the two soloists, the delightful and talented Louisa Perfect and Greta Bradman, soprano and mezzo soprano, sang Fac ut ardeat in a repetitive sequence pronouncing Fac so that it sounded more like Fark. And Pliny could not help wondering how they could keep a straight face. But something retributive was occurring in Pliny's throat just then and it began to tickle.

Inflammatus and accensus! Pliny was about to embarrass herself with a coughing fit. She swallowed, swallowed, swallowed and swallowed again. Luckily the moment passed, leaving her with a watering eye.

Pliny was proud of her watering eye. She hoped somebody would notice it, and think that she had been emotionally moved, but no one did.