I couldn't go to the concert Maestro did for his masters exam in June (it clashed with a Sine Nomine concert). As I'm staying with him this weekend between two Sine Nomine gigs in Norwich/Yarmouth area, he put on the recording of it. Not an ideal recording set-up, but... the concert was superb. Excellent playing, and the pieces show off lots of detail in dynamics and timing, with brilliant delicacy of expression.
I can just imagine him conducting it, too :)
He's planning to do more with the "St Nicholas Concert Orchestra"; it would be such a waste not to use the set-up again, after all the stress and work of getting it together in the first place, and it would be cruel to deprive the world of another chance to hear it.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Film of the Year
As it isn't my birthday for a very long time, I shall probably have to repeat this...
http://polyphonicfilms.com/store/
The Full Monteverdi
ooooooooooooooohhh
http://polyphonicfilms.com/store/
The Full Monteverdi
ooooooooooooooohhh
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Day of the Concert
Mon Tip: Think of a giant rhododendron opening up for the Amen molto cresc.
We had a runthrough with the organist, Gareth Perkins. He played very well (in spite of a poorly wrist), but it's a big Edwardian sort of organ and rather ponderous, which unsettled me a little in the Purcell, being not at all the Right Sort of Sound.
The nice old lady who had requested the Hallelujah Chorus phoned up to ask "They are going to sing the Hallelujah Chorus, aren't they?" to which the church adminperson replied "They will if you clap enthusiastically".
Some of the audience looked rather unmoved by the first few pieces, but the Sandstrom not only woke them up but elicited an "mmmm" sound, surprised but appreciative. They loved the Shakespeare set, and we really swung the dreaded Rutter. And then of course the encore... Handel at full blast :)
When Gareth took his bow, he acknowledged the organ. Nice touch!
And then the post-gig party. Amazing how rowdy a group of musos can get on a successful gig and a dozen bottles of wine (between about 30 people including groupies and guests and not including Kit and me, who were drinking some very very good M&S organic pressed apple juice). We sang most of the programme again - and the clearly pissed basses even started up the Sandstrom, but we all ended up in different bars and fell about laughing, so Hans and Sebastian sang I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside instead. With a little dance.
George Humphrey came to the party and met Jenny the local organiser, who has a collection of >200 teddy bears. She was most impressed with him.
I cried during Blei Bei Uns and so did Manfred, although he says that one always makes him cry - for me, it was the realisation that we'd come to the end and it was time to say goodbye to a wonderful group of people and a week full of music.
We had a runthrough with the organist, Gareth Perkins. He played very well (in spite of a poorly wrist), but it's a big Edwardian sort of organ and rather ponderous, which unsettled me a little in the Purcell, being not at all the Right Sort of Sound.
The nice old lady who had requested the Hallelujah Chorus phoned up to ask "They are going to sing the Hallelujah Chorus, aren't they?" to which the church adminperson replied "They will if you clap enthusiastically".
Some of the audience looked rather unmoved by the first few pieces, but the Sandstrom not only woke them up but elicited an "mmmm" sound, surprised but appreciative. They loved the Shakespeare set, and we really swung the dreaded Rutter. And then of course the encore... Handel at full blast :)
When Gareth took his bow, he acknowledged the organ. Nice touch!
And then the post-gig party. Amazing how rowdy a group of musos can get on a successful gig and a dozen bottles of wine (between about 30 people including groupies and guests and not including Kit and me, who were drinking some very very good M&S organic pressed apple juice). We sang most of the programme again - and the clearly pissed basses even started up the Sandstrom, but we all ended up in different bars and fell about laughing, so Hans and Sebastian sang I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside instead. With a little dance.
George Humphrey came to the party and met Jenny the local organiser, who has a collection of >200 teddy bears. She was most impressed with him.
I cried during Blei Bei Uns and so did Manfred, although he says that one always makes him cry - for me, it was the realisation that we'd come to the end and it was time to say goodbye to a wonderful group of people and a week full of music.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Day Five of the Torquay singing-week
The postie arrived to deliver mail as we were warming up, and said hello.
Mon gave us an exercise to practise singing legato for Elgar's Ave Maria - choose a partner of about the same weight (cause of much hilarity), stand facing, grip the other's left wrist in left hand (right hand holds the dots), lean back as far as you can, and sing. Apparently it's very difficult not to sing legato in this position. About half-way through, Jim the caretaker walked in to pick up some decorating gear, looked at us for a few moments, and disappeared hurriedly without saying anything.
We went to the museum for lunch again, and this time achieved my wish to sing in the hall. Luuuuvly acoustics. We got some prospective ticket sales out of it, and compliments from the staff, so all good. Small world syndrome - also having lunch in the museum cafe was a tourist from Switzerland whose daughter sang in one of Mon's choirs.
All of us (29 including groupies) had dinner in Simius the new Italian restaurant. Excellent food. We sang odd snatches quietly, but nothing loud or complete. As we left the manager said he wished we had sung a few pieces - missed opportunity! He'll come to the concert though.
Mon's Tip #nother: Support repeated notes by thinking of how a speedboat's bow is raised so it hits each wave at a level (visual demonstration of hand stretched horizontally palm-down with fingers curved up). "Tenors - pull your front end up"
Mon's musical direction #thinkofsomething: "completely luxurious, as if you were covered in peacock feathers"
And finally, though the Sandstrom is sounding pretty good now...
Mon's Tip #urr: If you go wrong, just make sure you don't appear worried - turn the look of anxiety into one of emoting.
Mon gave us an exercise to practise singing legato for Elgar's Ave Maria - choose a partner of about the same weight (cause of much hilarity), stand facing, grip the other's left wrist in left hand (right hand holds the dots), lean back as far as you can, and sing. Apparently it's very difficult not to sing legato in this position. About half-way through, Jim the caretaker walked in to pick up some decorating gear, looked at us for a few moments, and disappeared hurriedly without saying anything.
We went to the museum for lunch again, and this time achieved my wish to sing in the hall. Luuuuvly acoustics. We got some prospective ticket sales out of it, and compliments from the staff, so all good. Small world syndrome - also having lunch in the museum cafe was a tourist from Switzerland whose daughter sang in one of Mon's choirs.
All of us (29 including groupies) had dinner in Simius the new Italian restaurant. Excellent food. We sang odd snatches quietly, but nothing loud or complete. As we left the manager said he wished we had sung a few pieces - missed opportunity! He'll come to the concert though.
Mon's Tip #nother: Support repeated notes by thinking of how a speedboat's bow is raised so it hits each wave at a level (visual demonstration of hand stretched horizontally palm-down with fingers curved up). "Tenors - pull your front end up"
Mon's musical direction #thinkofsomething: "completely luxurious, as if you were covered in peacock feathers"
And finally, though the Sandstrom is sounding pretty good now...
Mon's Tip #urr: If you go wrong, just make sure you don't appear worried - turn the look of anxiety into one of emoting.
Day Four of the Torquay singing-week
People have been asking how long I've known Mon and been going to the singing weekends/weeks, so I checked with Elissa. She reckons Birmingham (the first Mon singing weekend) was in spring 1994, and Kintbury was the following year. That long!
One of the nice old ladies of St John's asked Mon if we'd be singing the Hallelujah Chorus. Mon told us amid amusement, but also said there are copies in the church library so we tried it and it works! 24-voice Messiah, heh.
Looks like we may be able to perform the Sandstrom (the o needs a wossname; it's Swedish). It sounds weird, but we get through it without stopping and finish together - the most important things of a performance ;).
Mon's Tip #whatever: To raise the soft palate for high notes, imagine it's a jellyfish doing that jellyfish swimming thing (demonstrated with hand rising, fingers opening and closing).
One of the nice old ladies of St John's asked Mon if we'd be singing the Hallelujah Chorus. Mon told us amid amusement, but also said there are copies in the church library so we tried it and it works! 24-voice Messiah, heh.
Looks like we may be able to perform the Sandstrom (the o needs a wossname; it's Swedish). It sounds weird, but we get through it without stopping and finish together - the most important things of a performance ;).
Mon's Tip #whatever: To raise the soft palate for high notes, imagine it's a jellyfish doing that jellyfish swimming thing (demonstrated with hand rising, fingers opening and closing).
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Day Three of the Torquay singing-week
I'm too tired for much reportage!
Rehearsals are going well. Ann is singing solo in the Mendelssohn, and beautifully. The Purcell verses are two-to-a-part, so no stress at all :)
Seems the late Proms aren't on TV, and I so wanted to see the newly-found Striggio as well as hear it.
Rehearsals are going well. Ann is singing solo in the Mendelssohn, and beautifully. The Purcell verses are two-to-a-part, so no stress at all :)
Seems the late Proms aren't on TV, and I so wanted to see the newly-found Striggio as well as hear it.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Day Two of the Torquay singing-week
We began rehearsal at 9:45. I can't even remember how much we sang. The afternoon was spent in Cockington, a very pretty village next to Torquay, which has a lovely old church. Singing there was irresistible. The acoustics are perfect for a small group - open but fairly dry - and so the top notes were smooth and easy. It's curious how feeling closed-in by a venue will make the high notes strained. We started with some of the sacred half of the programme, but Monica had a great urge to do the Rutter It Was A Lover; most inappropriate for a twelfth-century church, but great fun even though it is Rutter.
Back to St John's for another hour-and-a-half, including more work on the Sandstrom. Sven-David Sandstrom took Purcell's Hear My Prayer, O Lord and added some very strange things to the end. Most of the notes are found in the Purcell - well, all of the notes which are written on the stave (though not always in the same octave - first sops have top C!), but there are also some notated by a downward-pointing triangle: this means make an open vowel sound very quietly at the lowest pitch you possibly can ("lowest" as in "below your range of musical sound"). The other odd notation is a Z below a written note, on an M sound. This is "hum with vibrato". Apart from that, it's random interlaced bits of Hear My Prayer producing even crunchier chords than Purcell deemed necesssary, sung more and more slowly to produce first unease, then detachment, and finally trance.
From the rehearsal of Full Fathom Five (dingdong dingdong etc):"Basses, make sure you don't end up with a large dong."
Back to St John's for another hour-and-a-half, including more work on the Sandstrom. Sven-David Sandstrom took Purcell's Hear My Prayer, O Lord and added some very strange things to the end. Most of the notes are found in the Purcell - well, all of the notes which are written on the stave (though not always in the same octave - first sops have top C!), but there are also some notated by a downward-pointing triangle: this means make an open vowel sound very quietly at the lowest pitch you possibly can ("lowest" as in "below your range of musical sound"). The other odd notation is a Z below a written note, on an M sound. This is "hum with vibrato". Apart from that, it's random interlaced bits of Hear My Prayer producing even crunchier chords than Purcell deemed necesssary, sung more and more slowly to produce first unease, then detachment, and finally trance.
From the rehearsal of Full Fathom Five (dingdong dingdong etc):"Basses, make sure you don't end up with a large dong."
Day One of the Torquay singing-week
I signed up for another Monica Singing Weekend, though this one is a week and it's also not in Switzerland.
The first rehearsal was in the bar of the hotel because St John's was busy, and afterwards we went to check it out by attending mass. Amazing place - a Victorian neo-classical building which has been perfectly restored using the huge loadsamoney A. Lloyd Webber paid for a couple of paintings found in the church. Mass was very long, as it's higher-than-Roman, and afterwards we were welcomed at parish coffee n bickies, and read the posters and flyers advertising our gig on Friday. Mon had told us not to think about the concert and to concentrate on enjoying, learning and making music, but the posters kind of wrecked that plan.
After the congregation and helpers had cleared out, we had the hall to ourselves and got down to serious work.
There are some solo parts to be allocated. I wondered whether to volunteer for O For the Wings of a Dove on the grounds that every singer ought to do it at least once; on the other hand, a bit of Purcell might be preferable.
Torquay is very very hilly, and Broomstick is broken. owww.
The first rehearsal was in the bar of the hotel because St John's was busy, and afterwards we went to check it out by attending mass. Amazing place - a Victorian neo-classical building which has been perfectly restored using the huge loadsamoney A. Lloyd Webber paid for a couple of paintings found in the church. Mass was very long, as it's higher-than-Roman, and afterwards we were welcomed at parish coffee n bickies, and read the posters and flyers advertising our gig on Friday. Mon had told us not to think about the concert and to concentrate on enjoying, learning and making music, but the posters kind of wrecked that plan.
After the congregation and helpers had cleared out, we had the hall to ourselves and got down to serious work.
There are some solo parts to be allocated. I wondered whether to volunteer for O For the Wings of a Dove on the grounds that every singer ought to do it at least once; on the other hand, a bit of Purcell might be preferable.
Torquay is very very hilly, and Broomstick is broken. owww.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Gigs
Thursday, went to the horrible Waterfront in order not to see a tribute band. If Fire Would Fall was very very good; the other support band wasn't.
Friday, after the MARA conference talks and supper, an electro-acoustic gig. That was one excellent and enjoyable performance of varied styles and instruments smoothly running into each other. I loved the minimalist bowed gongs, Bowers going mad with metal, and the strange things done with electric guitars and clarinet-in-parts; it was great to see JI and SW playing together. The stage set was very pretty, all different coloured cables and lit-up apples, decorated with people artistically draped around on the floor.
Tonight we have jazz.
Friday, after the MARA conference talks and supper, an electro-acoustic gig. That was one excellent and enjoyable performance of varied styles and instruments smoothly running into each other. I loved the minimalist bowed gongs, Bowers going mad with metal, and the strange things done with electric guitars and clarinet-in-parts; it was great to see JI and SW playing together. The stage set was very pretty, all different coloured cables and lit-up apples, decorated with people artistically draped around on the floor.
Tonight we have jazz.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Voice workshop 16 June 2007
Voice workshop led by Guillermo Rozenthuler, a London-based Argentinian singer and voice teacher, with "extensive expertise in World Music and a unique approach to vocal training".
He began by showing us exercises to open our minds to new ways of thinking and responding - walking backwards is apparently especially good, and exercises to relax the neck, "the hinge of the brain to the body". The things to concentrate on are focus and to avoid feeling isolated - to be "present and of the world", which involves something he calls "practising presence". The gestalt is most important: giving one's part, whatever it may be, to the group. It is different from, for example, football chanting, in that listening is essential: Navajo conversation is mostly people sitting in silence and listening; improvising is a similar process of making a comment in a conversational landscape.
He commented that England is still such a powerful country, so the more its people engage with themselves, the better. Even in the few years he has lived in the UK (since 2000), those things which define Englishness have changed and are being dropped as "hangups of expression" decrease, e.g. behaving without inhibitions is more common now even without the use of stimulating substances; people are more willing to engage with their bodies and trust in expression. I found this an interesting point of view for the thesis.
Improvising is hampered by making value judgements, so as he noticed us affected by it he re-set our mental environment by stopping and starting, and changing time, to make us concentrate on listening and reduce our time for value judgements.
We blended amazingly well by the end of the seminar, and were all happily experimenting. The results were so good it was a pity not to have a record of them; but then, that's one of the characteristics of improvisation - it is ephemeral.
"The purpose is not just to do something together but also to make music."
He began by showing us exercises to open our minds to new ways of thinking and responding - walking backwards is apparently especially good, and exercises to relax the neck, "the hinge of the brain to the body". The things to concentrate on are focus and to avoid feeling isolated - to be "present and of the world", which involves something he calls "practising presence". The gestalt is most important: giving one's part, whatever it may be, to the group. It is different from, for example, football chanting, in that listening is essential: Navajo conversation is mostly people sitting in silence and listening; improvising is a similar process of making a comment in a conversational landscape.
He commented that England is still such a powerful country, so the more its people engage with themselves, the better. Even in the few years he has lived in the UK (since 2000), those things which define Englishness have changed and are being dropped as "hangups of expression" decrease, e.g. behaving without inhibitions is more common now even without the use of stimulating substances; people are more willing to engage with their bodies and trust in expression. I found this an interesting point of view for the thesis.
Improvising is hampered by making value judgements, so as he noticed us affected by it he re-set our mental environment by stopping and starting, and changing time, to make us concentrate on listening and reduce our time for value judgements.
We blended amazingly well by the end of the seminar, and were all happily experimenting. The results were so good it was a pity not to have a record of them; but then, that's one of the characteristics of improvisation - it is ephemeral.
"The purpose is not just to do something together but also to make music."
The Phantom of the Opera
No, not that one: the 1925 silent movie. Mistressdickens, bloodredglossy and I went to Norwich Cathedral to see it with improvised organ music. David Dunnett (lovely man, I miss him even though he taught the subject which gave me the most pain) gave a wonderfully witty introduction to his old friend David Briggs, who then told us the background and a little history of the film and this project. He opened the gig proper with the good old Toccata in D, which was more fun than usual because the company who provided the kit specialise in making church organ gigs visual as well as auditory. Normally the organist is invisible to the audience, but there he was on a big screen, madly attacking the 5 keyboards and all those stops and with even the twinkletoes passages discernible. Then the film came on. I love that film: Karloff in hyperactorial mode, and the famous make-up (he designed it himself and it was kept secret even from the other actors until the last moment; when the film was shown Ladies Screamed and Fainted).
If one didn't want to concentrate on the film, there was always Guess the Motif. There were some bits of Lloyd Webber tunes, probably more than I recognised as I'm only familiar with the songs arranged for choir and orchestra by David Ruddock, and some Wagner, and Rossini, and... you get the idea.
Much fun.
If one didn't want to concentrate on the film, there was always Guess the Motif. There were some bits of Lloyd Webber tunes, probably more than I recognised as I'm only familiar with the songs arranged for choir and orchestra by David Ruddock, and some Wagner, and Rossini, and... you get the idea.
Much fun.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Bugs!
Among the madrigals in next week's gig (16 June at St Thomas, Norwich) is a pretty ditty by John Wilbye, with the following text:-
Thus saith my Cloris bright,
When we of Loue sit downe and talke together,
Beware of Loue, Loue is a walking sprite,
And Loue is this and that,
And O I wot not what,
And comes and goes againe, I wot not whether.
No, no, these are but bugs to breed amazing,
For in her eies I saw his torch light blazing.
Explanations welcome...
Thus saith my Cloris bright,
When we of Loue sit downe and talke together,
Beware of Loue, Loue is a walking sprite,
And Loue is this and that,
And O I wot not what,
And comes and goes againe, I wot not whether.
No, no, these are but bugs to breed amazing,
For in her eies I saw his torch light blazing.
Explanations welcome...
Friday, May 25, 2007
Music in the mountains - Ernen 2007
Caroline Charrière's For Emily, settings of eight of Emily Dickinson's poems, was a commission for the 2004 Ernen music festival, but not all eight pieces were performed then, as they are very difficult. We were so glad we managed all of them (and with only small problems which were not noticeable to the audience). A world premiere! Caroline was hoping to attend the concert, but was ill and sent messages instead.
She had made some changes since 2004, which led to amusing incidents in rehearsal, as Mon had the original version and the singers had 2.0.
Dickinson's poems are short, succinct, and well-crafted. The settings are also short, and beautifully put together. They are for SATB, divisi at times, with a couple of solo passages. The rhythms are very important: strong basic patterns overlaid with complex off-beats; there are frequent tone clusters and generally crunchy bits, interspersed with lovely snatches of melody. On keyboard the harmonies are rather uncomfortable, but somehow they sound wonderful with voices - possibly because singers would naturally slip into untempered.
Beginning with the cool and relatively simple We never know we go, when we are going, each one is different in style.
Gamblers ('We lose because we win') drops us into complicated rhythms: any piece that gives you a time signature of 8/8 and then in slightly smaller print 6/8+1/4 is going to be interesting. The direction 'dansant' is a clue to how to sing it - if you swing your hips twice and then bounce, you've got it. The ending is great fun, with a huge crescendo on a glissando to a really lush chord, with first sopranos on a flashy top A, and altos doing their subtle dissonance thing on a less-than-subtle top C# and D. There is a story that the word settings were originally a little different, and we were relieved not to have to sing "toss, toss toss". It is occasionally noticeable that Caroline is not a native English speaker, and two or three times the musical stresses were at variance with the words, for example in We never know we go where there is a hefty downbeat on the low of following.
In this short life took a lot of rehearsal. It has fast fierce rhythms in 3/8 with a metronome going for the whole piece and no way to fudge the timing; entries are sometimes sung and sometimes spoken on offbeats and counter-rhythms. The directions are "agité, angoissé" and if nothing else we were sure to achieve both of those. Mon used a metronome via internet ("and joining us all the way from California..") but it didn't work so well in the church so we had a real one for the concert. The score calls for two lots of percussion with "two sticks on another or an object". Someone found a split log for second percussion, and the next day Hans decorated the percussion-log with "For Caroline" and a lovely line drawing of the church, and we all signed it.
The following piece, Noon, is a complete contrast, being slow and 'Mystérieux', with long passages of gently chromatic quavers against held chords, and a final crescendo to an ecstatic "Ah!".
Being the only English-speaking soprano, I spoke the words of A word is dead, which has a pretty melody and an exuberant final "live... live ...live!".
I also sang a small duet in I'll let my heart, a delicate setting of touching words with the characteristic chord build-up at the end, but this time pp, even though there are 11 notes in the final chord!
Back to rhythmic complexities for Of Heaven, but this time created not by unusual beats and offbeats, but built out of a 4-voice canon with passages gradually silenced, and ending with one bass voice softly singing "Heaven below". It is very difficult to keep the timing exactly towards the end when there is little left of the original. It was also difficult at first to remember not to sing the missing words!
Finally, Fame is a bee is bright and bouncy, with a joyful melody in tenor and bass, sometimes in unison and sometimes dissonant.
Sopranos and altos keep up a backing bee-noise on quaver runs. It's not easy to keep pitch on a bzzzzz sound - z is pitched, but hard to control; Mon had some of us singing doodle-ooodle to keep the tune, and the rest zzzzing.
What a delicious contrast to the early music, and again to the Brahms.
The early music selection consisted of Palestrina's Missa Brevis, Weelkes' All People Clap Your Hands, Sweelinck's Viri Galilei, and Philips' Ascendit Deus.
Weelkes is fun, and I think we almost got the trumpet imitations. The Sweelinck is bright too, but it was quite hard work with only two first sopranos against three hefty basses (there were three first sops present, but one had a sore throat and couldn't sing). This was also true of the Philips, though I adored singing it for the soaring sopranic passages.
Palestrina is always a pleasure to sing (and one of the few composers I feel comfortable sight-reading), though the canonic passages can be tricky if you lose the pulse. We had the Chester edition which is rather modern: barlines can encourage the wrong stresses unless you've learned to use them only for checking where you are in relation to other parts, so Mon had to spend some time lightening final syllables and getting the words right. The three soloists for the Benedictus had sounded lovely in rehearsal, so it was such a pity, on the Sunday, that the trio (which wasn't performed in the concert programme) was skipped because the priest rushed straight past it.
The Brahms songs were just lush. We began the concert with Abendstäaut;ndchen and Vineta, and finished it with Waldesnacht, Dein Herzlein mild, and Es geht ein Wehen. Gorgeous.
I hope to get chance to sing the Charrière again.
She had made some changes since 2004, which led to amusing incidents in rehearsal, as Mon had the original version and the singers had 2.0.
Dickinson's poems are short, succinct, and well-crafted. The settings are also short, and beautifully put together. They are for SATB, divisi at times, with a couple of solo passages. The rhythms are very important: strong basic patterns overlaid with complex off-beats; there are frequent tone clusters and generally crunchy bits, interspersed with lovely snatches of melody. On keyboard the harmonies are rather uncomfortable, but somehow they sound wonderful with voices - possibly because singers would naturally slip into untempered.
Beginning with the cool and relatively simple We never know we go, when we are going, each one is different in style.
Gamblers ('We lose because we win') drops us into complicated rhythms: any piece that gives you a time signature of 8/8 and then in slightly smaller print 6/8+1/4 is going to be interesting. The direction 'dansant' is a clue to how to sing it - if you swing your hips twice and then bounce, you've got it. The ending is great fun, with a huge crescendo on a glissando to a really lush chord, with first sopranos on a flashy top A, and altos doing their subtle dissonance thing on a less-than-subtle top C# and D. There is a story that the word settings were originally a little different, and we were relieved not to have to sing "toss, toss toss". It is occasionally noticeable that Caroline is not a native English speaker, and two or three times the musical stresses were at variance with the words, for example in We never know we go where there is a hefty downbeat on the low of following.
In this short life took a lot of rehearsal. It has fast fierce rhythms in 3/8 with a metronome going for the whole piece and no way to fudge the timing; entries are sometimes sung and sometimes spoken on offbeats and counter-rhythms. The directions are "agité, angoissé" and if nothing else we were sure to achieve both of those. Mon used a metronome via internet ("and joining us all the way from California..") but it didn't work so well in the church so we had a real one for the concert. The score calls for two lots of percussion with "two sticks on another or an object". Someone found a split log for second percussion, and the next day Hans decorated the percussion-log with "For Caroline" and a lovely line drawing of the church, and we all signed it.
The following piece, Noon, is a complete contrast, being slow and 'Mystérieux', with long passages of gently chromatic quavers against held chords, and a final crescendo to an ecstatic "Ah!".
Being the only English-speaking soprano, I spoke the words of A word is dead, which has a pretty melody and an exuberant final "live... live ...live!".
I also sang a small duet in I'll let my heart, a delicate setting of touching words with the characteristic chord build-up at the end, but this time pp, even though there are 11 notes in the final chord!
Back to rhythmic complexities for Of Heaven, but this time created not by unusual beats and offbeats, but built out of a 4-voice canon with passages gradually silenced, and ending with one bass voice softly singing "Heaven below". It is very difficult to keep the timing exactly towards the end when there is little left of the original. It was also difficult at first to remember not to sing the missing words!
Finally, Fame is a bee is bright and bouncy, with a joyful melody in tenor and bass, sometimes in unison and sometimes dissonant.
Sopranos and altos keep up a backing bee-noise on quaver runs. It's not easy to keep pitch on a bzzzzz sound - z is pitched, but hard to control; Mon had some of us singing doodle-ooodle to keep the tune, and the rest zzzzing.
What a delicious contrast to the early music, and again to the Brahms.
The early music selection consisted of Palestrina's Missa Brevis, Weelkes' All People Clap Your Hands, Sweelinck's Viri Galilei, and Philips' Ascendit Deus.
Weelkes is fun, and I think we almost got the trumpet imitations. The Sweelinck is bright too, but it was quite hard work with only two first sopranos against three hefty basses (there were three first sops present, but one had a sore throat and couldn't sing). This was also true of the Philips, though I adored singing it for the soaring sopranic passages.
Palestrina is always a pleasure to sing (and one of the few composers I feel comfortable sight-reading), though the canonic passages can be tricky if you lose the pulse. We had the Chester edition which is rather modern: barlines can encourage the wrong stresses unless you've learned to use them only for checking where you are in relation to other parts, so Mon had to spend some time lightening final syllables and getting the words right. The three soloists for the Benedictus had sounded lovely in rehearsal, so it was such a pity, on the Sunday, that the trio (which wasn't performed in the concert programme) was skipped because the priest rushed straight past it.
The Brahms songs were just lush. We began the concert with Abendstäaut;ndchen and Vineta, and finished it with Waldesnacht, Dein Herzlein mild, and Es geht ein Wehen. Gorgeous.
I hope to get chance to sing the Charrière again.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Ernen
Account of the trip to sing with Ars Cantata, singing weekend version, in Ernen - music details in a separate post.
Arrived safely at Basel, after a little Stansted hassle (they held the plane while someone found a person-with-key-to-the-lift - Stansted, argh). The flight was smooth but cloudy so no view of the country we flew over. It was warmer than UK, and I was happy to lounge around in Mon and Jackie's huge apartment full of books and music, while Mon finished preparing for the workshop.
Wednesday was even warmer. Mon and Corinna and I went by train to Valais; I wouldn't have tried it alone - I can speak about ten words of German and understand zero words of Schweizerdeutsch, and there are inevitably complications. Swiss trains are high, and the platforms are low, so there are mobile lifts to load wheelchairs. Odd that staff at some stations didn't seem clued up on using them - Fiesch especially, where the guard pounced on Chariot, planning to lift both it and me down three steps. I wouldn't permit it, being very fussy about being picked up or carried, and slid down the steps. Mon was annoyed, because she'd phoned up and made all the arrangements for assistance. She was even more annoyed after we got off, went round the corner, and saw the lift. Apparently it was "too heavy to use"!
The journey was beautiful. Going through Bern there is a view of the valley and a gorgeous bridge, which you see twice as the train goes in and comes out again. I need to visit that bridge. As in urban train areas everywhere, there are spray-decorations on the concrete walls, but here they look like comparatively tasteful wall-paintings.
Mountains with new snow! Mon and Corinna talked of views of a big glacier and the delights of cable cars. One day I'll have time to experience these things - I'd particularly love to see the glacier. The fast rivers of pale green water, full of rocks, remind me of streams in the Andes. The smaller train up into the mountains goes on a rack through a tunnel where the track spirals up: you go in at lowland-level and come out into mountain, with ears popping.
The bus from Fiesch to Ernen was a delight. We approached the 3 steps up into the bus with misgivings, but lo! the driver proudly displayed the 'leccy-controlled platform which glided from under the top step, lowered to the ground, and then rose smoothly bearing me and Chariot.
There was most of an afternoon and evening before the rest of the singers arrived; I found my room in the hotel Alpenblick (Alpine View, and unlike the Seaviews of England, it was true! - snowy mountains from two sides of my room). The ski-ing season was over and the walking season not begun, so Heidi the manageress was quite pleased to have most of the choir staying and all of us taking meals there. We had a meal with Francesco (the local organiser) and his partner Pieter in the hotel: fabulous food from the posh menu, though the rest of the meals provided for the choir were good but rather less fancy. There was great excitement about arrangements for a celebratory Raclette, the local delicacy which turned out to be melted cheese and new potatoes, with pickles. Bit Lancastrian, really ;)
Francesco is president of the Ernen music festival, which is very grand for a village of only just over 400 people. Like the St Magnus Festival in Orkney, and even the Aldeburgh Festival, it's held in such an unlikely place because a musician settled there and brought in his friends and colleagues (http://www.musikdorf.ch/).
Francesco and Pieter are really sweet: Francesco so witty, and flirtatious with his big eyes and long lashes; Pieter wanting to practise his English (which was excellent). We had a great time with conversation wandering from civil partnerships (they are considering it for next year) and an interview they did for a magazine which was pointed out to Pieter's sister on holiday in Egypt, to keeping chickens and rabbits.
Thursday began with rain, and then it snowed! Even though it was cold, watching the snow was lovely, though getting to the rehearsal venue was not so pleasant. On Friday it was warm again, and I got slightly sunburned sitting with coffee outside the St Georg Restaurant; the last ski-ers came down from the mountains. The temperature went up over 20deg by Sunday, which was very hot.
In between ski-ing and walking seasons is the time of the cyclists: mad mountain bikers whizzing through the village. The locals wandered around pushing little carts carrying things from their gardens/allotments or just bags of shopping.
Rehearsals were in the House of William Tell. Honestly! In Ernen the buildings have to conform to the traditonal design, which is chalet-style with rough horizontal wooden beams. Next to the Tellenhaus is an old building with a storage area and animal shelter as the ground floor, on top of which is a small house supported at each corner by a stone stilt, topped by a flat piece of stone to prevent rats and mice climbing up to the main house. This is the oldest style, commemorated in carved wooden models; unfortunately not suited to a four-storey hotel, where mice are quite a problem, and very noisy too.
Some of the houses are painted with leaves and even pictures of stones something like large houses in north Italy, though they don't go as far as trompe-l'oeil pillars and statues. The Restaurant St. Georg has a carved statue of the saint killing the dragon attached to the wall near the roof. The house of William Tell, where we rehearsed, has lovely old paintings of Tell (said to the oldest in Switzerland). Good pic of it at http://www.ernen.ch/englisch/sommer_02.html and a whole gallery of them http://www.ernen.ch/englisch/galerie.html.
There was a concert on the Saturday evening and full mass on Sunday morning. The concert was publicly advertised, but many people chose to come to hear us sing at mass instead. Pity, because they missed the Charrière. We were a first soprano short because poor Elfi had pharyngitis and could only croak and mime.
The church is stunning. Or possibly shocking. Outside, demure stone and wood, with a neat cemetery of tiday graves with wooden crosses roofed like miniature chalets.
The main door of the church opens onto a view down the valley. Mountains sweep down on both sides, and in the distance is a group of high peaks, snow-covered. Inside is the most amazing hotchpotch of decoration: faded wall-paintings, elaborately carved choir stalls, plain stone altar-slab, and... well... even the postcards don't really show the Bangkokianly garish splendour of the rood-screen.
Sunday mass was at 9am. I was late for rehearsal before it, because I'd forgotten to get a translation of announcements including the schedule for the morning. what a gorgeous frock the priest wore. I couldn't follow the sermon, of course, but a few words came through and it was clear that he was talking about us. Apparently a choir is an exemplar for dedication, co-operation, diversity, harmony, and achievement. So there.
When the music was all over, I wandered around saying farewell to the mountains and had coffee with a couple from le bas de la vallée. It was good to be able to talk to locals at last - they speak French at that end. Most people I'd had to communicate with by smiling and nodding and saying bitte and danke (or merci). Rarely had any idea what they were saying to me.
The bus driver demonstrated the lift with a flourish, and then we trundled down one side of the valley and up the other, with many final views of the church on the mountainside.
Corinna bought local strawberries for the train-ride back: huge, and very tasty. We all agreed that food should be as local as possible, and Mon had a small rant about almost accidentally buying asparagus from Peru on Monday. Crazy, as it is asparagus season in Switzerland.
In spite of Mon's extra efforts to ensure assistance, the lift was not out at Fiesch so she got it herself and had a row with the station staff. It turns out that there is not only a lift but a special wide door and wheelchair space on the train. We couldn't understand why they were so reluctant to use it. The train rattled down from the mountains, back on the rack, through the tunnel, and alongside the rivers. As it stopped at Brig four or five blokes pounced on me. I shrieked; they backed off and, after Mon had given them a good tellin', went to get the lift. We'll get them trained yet.
On Monday, almost cloudless sky meant a good view of the land below. It was cold back in England, and East Anglian windy. The bus driver recognised me from the previous trip (Roumanian bloke, and drop-dead gorgeous - make a note, girls, he drives the 727).
Home, tired but very happy and looking forward to singing with them again in Torquay in July.
Arrived safely at Basel, after a little Stansted hassle (they held the plane while someone found a person-with-key-to-the-lift - Stansted, argh). The flight was smooth but cloudy so no view of the country we flew over. It was warmer than UK, and I was happy to lounge around in Mon and Jackie's huge apartment full of books and music, while Mon finished preparing for the workshop.
Wednesday was even warmer. Mon and Corinna and I went by train to Valais; I wouldn't have tried it alone - I can speak about ten words of German and understand zero words of Schweizerdeutsch, and there are inevitably complications. Swiss trains are high, and the platforms are low, so there are mobile lifts to load wheelchairs. Odd that staff at some stations didn't seem clued up on using them - Fiesch especially, where the guard pounced on Chariot, planning to lift both it and me down three steps. I wouldn't permit it, being very fussy about being picked up or carried, and slid down the steps. Mon was annoyed, because she'd phoned up and made all the arrangements for assistance. She was even more annoyed after we got off, went round the corner, and saw the lift. Apparently it was "too heavy to use"!
The journey was beautiful. Going through Bern there is a view of the valley and a gorgeous bridge, which you see twice as the train goes in and comes out again. I need to visit that bridge. As in urban train areas everywhere, there are spray-decorations on the concrete walls, but here they look like comparatively tasteful wall-paintings.
Mountains with new snow! Mon and Corinna talked of views of a big glacier and the delights of cable cars. One day I'll have time to experience these things - I'd particularly love to see the glacier. The fast rivers of pale green water, full of rocks, remind me of streams in the Andes. The smaller train up into the mountains goes on a rack through a tunnel where the track spirals up: you go in at lowland-level and come out into mountain, with ears popping.
The bus from Fiesch to Ernen was a delight. We approached the 3 steps up into the bus with misgivings, but lo! the driver proudly displayed the 'leccy-controlled platform which glided from under the top step, lowered to the ground, and then rose smoothly bearing me and Chariot.
There was most of an afternoon and evening before the rest of the singers arrived; I found my room in the hotel Alpenblick (Alpine View, and unlike the Seaviews of England, it was true! - snowy mountains from two sides of my room). The ski-ing season was over and the walking season not begun, so Heidi the manageress was quite pleased to have most of the choir staying and all of us taking meals there. We had a meal with Francesco (the local organiser) and his partner Pieter in the hotel: fabulous food from the posh menu, though the rest of the meals provided for the choir were good but rather less fancy. There was great excitement about arrangements for a celebratory Raclette, the local delicacy which turned out to be melted cheese and new potatoes, with pickles. Bit Lancastrian, really ;)
Francesco is president of the Ernen music festival, which is very grand for a village of only just over 400 people. Like the St Magnus Festival in Orkney, and even the Aldeburgh Festival, it's held in such an unlikely place because a musician settled there and brought in his friends and colleagues (http://www.musikdorf.ch/).
Francesco and Pieter are really sweet: Francesco so witty, and flirtatious with his big eyes and long lashes; Pieter wanting to practise his English (which was excellent). We had a great time with conversation wandering from civil partnerships (they are considering it for next year) and an interview they did for a magazine which was pointed out to Pieter's sister on holiday in Egypt, to keeping chickens and rabbits.
Thursday began with rain, and then it snowed! Even though it was cold, watching the snow was lovely, though getting to the rehearsal venue was not so pleasant. On Friday it was warm again, and I got slightly sunburned sitting with coffee outside the St Georg Restaurant; the last ski-ers came down from the mountains. The temperature went up over 20deg by Sunday, which was very hot.
In between ski-ing and walking seasons is the time of the cyclists: mad mountain bikers whizzing through the village. The locals wandered around pushing little carts carrying things from their gardens/allotments or just bags of shopping.
Rehearsals were in the House of William Tell. Honestly! In Ernen the buildings have to conform to the traditonal design, which is chalet-style with rough horizontal wooden beams. Next to the Tellenhaus is an old building with a storage area and animal shelter as the ground floor, on top of which is a small house supported at each corner by a stone stilt, topped by a flat piece of stone to prevent rats and mice climbing up to the main house. This is the oldest style, commemorated in carved wooden models; unfortunately not suited to a four-storey hotel, where mice are quite a problem, and very noisy too.
Some of the houses are painted with leaves and even pictures of stones something like large houses in north Italy, though they don't go as far as trompe-l'oeil pillars and statues. The Restaurant St. Georg has a carved statue of the saint killing the dragon attached to the wall near the roof. The house of William Tell, where we rehearsed, has lovely old paintings of Tell (said to the oldest in Switzerland). Good pic of it at http://www.ernen.ch/englisch/sommer_02.html and a whole gallery of them http://www.ernen.ch/englisch/galerie.html.
There was a concert on the Saturday evening and full mass on Sunday morning. The concert was publicly advertised, but many people chose to come to hear us sing at mass instead. Pity, because they missed the Charrière. We were a first soprano short because poor Elfi had pharyngitis and could only croak and mime.
The church is stunning. Or possibly shocking. Outside, demure stone and wood, with a neat cemetery of tiday graves with wooden crosses roofed like miniature chalets.
The main door of the church opens onto a view down the valley. Mountains sweep down on both sides, and in the distance is a group of high peaks, snow-covered. Inside is the most amazing hotchpotch of decoration: faded wall-paintings, elaborately carved choir stalls, plain stone altar-slab, and... well... even the postcards don't really show the Bangkokianly garish splendour of the rood-screen.
Sunday mass was at 9am. I was late for rehearsal before it, because I'd forgotten to get a translation of announcements including the schedule for the morning. what a gorgeous frock the priest wore. I couldn't follow the sermon, of course, but a few words came through and it was clear that he was talking about us. Apparently a choir is an exemplar for dedication, co-operation, diversity, harmony, and achievement. So there.
When the music was all over, I wandered around saying farewell to the mountains and had coffee with a couple from le bas de la vallée. It was good to be able to talk to locals at last - they speak French at that end. Most people I'd had to communicate with by smiling and nodding and saying bitte and danke (or merci). Rarely had any idea what they were saying to me.
The bus driver demonstrated the lift with a flourish, and then we trundled down one side of the valley and up the other, with many final views of the church on the mountainside.
Corinna bought local strawberries for the train-ride back: huge, and very tasty. We all agreed that food should be as local as possible, and Mon had a small rant about almost accidentally buying asparagus from Peru on Monday. Crazy, as it is asparagus season in Switzerland.
In spite of Mon's extra efforts to ensure assistance, the lift was not out at Fiesch so she got it herself and had a row with the station staff. It turns out that there is not only a lift but a special wide door and wheelchair space on the train. We couldn't understand why they were so reluctant to use it. The train rattled down from the mountains, back on the rack, through the tunnel, and alongside the rivers. As it stopped at Brig four or five blokes pounced on me. I shrieked; they backed off and, after Mon had given them a good tellin', went to get the lift. We'll get them trained yet.
On Monday, almost cloudless sky meant a good view of the land below. It was cold back in England, and East Anglian windy. The bus driver recognised me from the previous trip (Roumanian bloke, and drop-dead gorgeous - make a note, girls, he drives the 727).
Home, tired but very happy and looking forward to singing with them again in Torquay in July.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Tell your MP you love hir
What a wonderfully useful website - www.writetothem.com. I'm often deterred by the difficulty of contacting anything to do with Guvmint, and this makes it so easy. It even puts in the correct salutation.
[btw: no, I do not intend to tell Charles Clarke I love him...]
[btw: no, I do not intend to tell Charles Clarke I love him...]
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Gig I can't get to
Some of Joglaresa are doing a short free concert on Monday, to try out new material. I can't go, having a rehearsal in Norwich for the concert on Saturday. If anyone else would like to go, and do a review for me...
French Medieval Song
Jennie Cassidy – voice
Belinda Sykes – voice
Hugh Webb – harp
6pm – 7pm Monday 5 March
Holy Cross Church, Cromer Street, London WC1H 8JU
French Medieval Song
Jennie Cassidy – voice
Belinda Sykes – voice
Hugh Webb – harp
6pm – 7pm Monday 5 March
Holy Cross Church, Cromer Street, London WC1H 8JU
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Regulation, regulation, regulation
Herewith the response to the e-petition on DRM issues, with apologies for length of post and the distant wails of tortured grammar. Mercifully brief editorial comments are below.
"Digital rights issues have been gaining increasing prominence as innovation accelerates, more and more digital media products and services come onto the market and the consumer wants to get access to digital content over different platforms. Many content providers have been embedding access and management tools to protect their rights and, for example, prevent illegal copying. We believe that they should be able to continue to protect their content in this way. However, DRM does not only act as a policeman through technical protection measures, it also enables content companies to offer the consumer unprecedented choice in terms of how they consume content, and the corresponding price they wish to pay.
It is clear though that the needs and rights of consumers must also be carefully safeguarded. It is reasonable for consumers to be informed what is actually being offered for sale, for example, and how and where the purchaser will be able to use the product, and any restrictions applied. While there is good reason to expect the market to reach a balance as these new markets develop, it is important that consumers' interests are maintained in the meantime.
Apart from the APIG (All Party Internet Group) report on DRM referred to in your petition, Digital Rights issues are an important component in other major HMG review strands on Intellectual Property, New Media and the Creative Economy. In particular, the independent Gowers Review of Intellectual Property commissioned by the Chancellor of the Exchequer, published its report on 6th December 2006 as part of the Chancellor's Pre-Budget Report. Recommendations include introducing a limited private copying exception by 2008 for format shifting for works published after the date that the law comes into effect. There should be no accompanying levies for consumers. Also making it easier for users to file notice of complaints procedures relating to Digital Rights Management tools by providing an accessible web interface on the Patent Office website by 2008 and that DTI should investigate the possibility of providing consumer guidance on DRM systems through a labelling convention without imposing unnecessary regulatory burdens."
Point 1: Every time I read NuLaborSpeak, and particularly the now-debased word "choice", I look round for the soap-box which friends and relations have prudently hidden. You're in luck. I shall go and eat chocolate instead of ranting.
Point 2: The final sentence made me laugh. I'm imagining the labels. "Warning: may contain organised sound" or perhaps the all-purpose "May contain trace of nuts".
It may help to fix one system bug which allows the poor fool^Wbuyer to get all the way through, including payment, before discovering that the downloaded material comes in only one, proprietary, format. Generally, it appears to be taking a firm stance on a wobbly fence.
"Digital rights issues have been gaining increasing prominence as innovation accelerates, more and more digital media products and services come onto the market and the consumer wants to get access to digital content over different platforms. Many content providers have been embedding access and management tools to protect their rights and, for example, prevent illegal copying. We believe that they should be able to continue to protect their content in this way. However, DRM does not only act as a policeman through technical protection measures, it also enables content companies to offer the consumer unprecedented choice in terms of how they consume content, and the corresponding price they wish to pay.
It is clear though that the needs and rights of consumers must also be carefully safeguarded. It is reasonable for consumers to be informed what is actually being offered for sale, for example, and how and where the purchaser will be able to use the product, and any restrictions applied. While there is good reason to expect the market to reach a balance as these new markets develop, it is important that consumers' interests are maintained in the meantime.
Apart from the APIG (All Party Internet Group) report on DRM referred to in your petition, Digital Rights issues are an important component in other major HMG review strands on Intellectual Property, New Media and the Creative Economy. In particular, the independent Gowers Review of Intellectual Property commissioned by the Chancellor of the Exchequer, published its report on 6th December 2006 as part of the Chancellor's Pre-Budget Report. Recommendations include introducing a limited private copying exception by 2008 for format shifting for works published after the date that the law comes into effect. There should be no accompanying levies for consumers. Also making it easier for users to file notice of complaints procedures relating to Digital Rights Management tools by providing an accessible web interface on the Patent Office website by 2008 and that DTI should investigate the possibility of providing consumer guidance on DRM systems through a labelling convention without imposing unnecessary regulatory burdens."
Point 1: Every time I read NuLaborSpeak, and particularly the now-debased word "choice", I look round for the soap-box which friends and relations have prudently hidden. You're in luck. I shall go and eat chocolate instead of ranting.
Point 2: The final sentence made me laugh. I'm imagining the labels. "Warning: may contain organised sound" or perhaps the all-purpose "May contain trace of nuts".
It may help to fix one system bug which allows the poor fool^Wbuyer to get all the way through, including payment, before discovering that the downloaded material comes in only one, proprietary, format. Generally, it appears to be taking a firm stance on a wobbly fence.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Furious
So, vulture fund Donegal International has not quite won a court case to get $42m off Zambia, for a debt which the profiteers bought from Romania for less than $4m.
It's thought that "the judge will order Zambia to pay Donegal between $10m and $20m"[1]. Zambia had previously arranged to pay Romania $3m.
Makes one wonder what we can do - not only in this case, but to criminalise such businesses everywhere.
[1] http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/low/business/6365433.stm
It's thought that "the judge will order Zambia to pay Donegal between $10m and $20m"[1]. Zambia had previously arranged to pay Romania $3m.
Makes one wonder what we can do - not only in this case, but to criminalise such businesses everywhere.
[1] http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/low/business/6365433.stm
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Droooooool
Veggie and I are looking at places to buy.
I like this one and this one.
Both should work for B&B, and though I'd prefer the town-flat (I mean, just look at that stonework!), there may be leasehold problems with it. However, it's with the agent who is selling my cottage, and as I need to talk to them on Monday anyway... :)
And then there's this gorgeous place. Income from renting out one of them in tourist-season!
I like this one and this one.
Both should work for B&B, and though I'd prefer the town-flat (I mean, just look at that stonework!), there may be leasehold problems with it. However, it's with the agent who is selling my cottage, and as I need to talk to them on Monday anyway... :)
And then there's this gorgeous place. Income from renting out one of them in tourist-season!
Friday, February 09, 2007
It was a merry Yulemas
ALUG's Yulemas (2005) Dinner last night was successful in spite of sadly missing some people, because of the weather and threats of icy roads, and because of 'flu (gws Noodles), and because of imminent and late baby-arrival (good luck wildduck and quinophex).
There were 17 of us at the meal, and two more joined for beer afterwards. I think this may be a record. Not that there have been that many ALUG meals...
So many highlights. Carols, with ironchicken's beautiful bass line. Teatime stripping to display his tattoo (he claimed it means "if you can read this you're on the wrong side" but quickly changed his plea to "if you can read this you're over-educated"). Rob wearing Becca's wings and flying down the pub like a large cross between a bee and Dennis the Menace. Viv getting hooked on katsmeat's Palm games.
Where are the photos? Somebody shake paul_c!
There were 17 of us at the meal, and two more joined for beer afterwards. I think this may be a record. Not that there have been that many ALUG meals...
So many highlights. Carols, with ironchicken's beautiful bass line. Teatime stripping to display his tattoo (he claimed it means "if you can read this you're on the wrong side" but quickly changed his plea to "if you can read this you're over-educated"). Rob wearing Becca's wings and flying down the pub like a large cross between a bee and Dennis the Menace. Viv getting hooked on katsmeat's Palm games.
Where are the photos? Somebody shake paul_c!
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Singing in the mountains
For two weeks I didn't look closely at the invitation to sing in Switzerland in May, but then Mon emailed and I had to reply... which meant of course that I said yes.
So... Ernen in southern Switz, near the Italian border. There's a train from Paris to the next town, then bus.
So... Ernen in southern Switz, near the Italian border. There's a train from Paris to the next town, then bus.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
TFM filmblog
Making an exception here and publicising someone else's blog -
http://thefullmonteverdi.wordpress.com
an account of the filming of The Full Monteverdi (which was the case study for my BA project).
http://thefullmonteverdi.wordpress.com
an account of the filming of The Full Monteverdi (which was the case study for my BA project).
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