What A Caterwauling
Dunkirk NY – Just got finished hosting the monthly meeting of my Catch Club. I’ve been a member since about 1990 or so. We are a collection of people who get together once a month or so and sing 17th/18th century catches. A catch is basically a song sung as a round. Most of the extant ones were written to be drinking songs, and all of them were to be sung by men, since a good portion of them have bawdy lyrics, to wit:
“Once, twice, thrice I Julia tried
The scornful puss as oft denied
And since I can no better thrive
I’ll cringe to ne’er a bitch alive
So kiss my arse, disdainful sow
Good Claret is my mistress now”
Our group used to be all male, but we now have female members despite the nature of the songs. In the old days we called such women “good sports.” I’m not sure there’s a politically correct term for them today.
I like the club because we’re a bunch of old men singing. Make no mistake – we are terrible. We do not sing because we expect anytime soon to go out in public and sing. We do it to make music, drink wine and generally have a good time in each other’s company. It’s not art, but it is a collection of people making their own art, their own music, for themselves. It’s a professorial kind of fun, as well – I mean, what other group of people would get together to sing 17th century drinking songs? I often think that it serves as a model for the potential in making community-based theatre – something for people to make on their own as an outlet for their creativity and fun. I look forward to it every month. Good times. -twl
