Counterpoint

I have unofficially been following a course in counterpoint composition for a few weeks now, to get the physics out of my head from time to time. Last Monday, there was an unexpected exam, which I decided to take, mainly out of curiosity.

So, I sat down, took a sheet and asked my neighbour for a pen, since mine, being a strict follower of Murphy's Law, was empty. Then, I looked at the sheet, which contained four cantus firmi and a number of empty staffs. Not completely understanding the assignment, I turned to my neighbour again, and she kindly explained to me what was to be done. We had to compose two- or three-voiced 'motets' (no longer than nine bars, nine notes in the cantus firmus), and if we wanted to have them back in time for singing them at Christmas, we had to mark our work with an 'X'.
I started to write, while next to me, a lively, albeit whispered, discussion arose between my neighbours over a few issues concerning note lengths and forbidden intervals in their work. The instructor, who was sitting all the way up front, was reading something, and did not appear to notice, or mind, or consider the option that students would discuss their work at all...

When handing in my work, I told the instructor I was not on the presence list, in order to save him a surprise when checking presence list against work handed in. He decided to add my name, with the comment that I was participating außer Konkurrenz, and that I had found my way to his course through a choir¹, which seemed a source of joy to the good man.


¹Darryl, my Canadian friend from the Capella Carolina, who has been promoted to Repetitor in order to allow him to play on the piano in the rehearsal room of the choir, took me along once.