Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
16 Gardening, mp3 songs on shuffle, and the interconnectedness of all things
Some years ago I read a book called "The Celestine Prophecy" which was doing the rounds of all the "new age" book shops in Stockbridge when I lived there.
I imagine most people would find the whole premise - that the Mayans disappeared suddenly because they started vibrating at a higher rate due to their spiritual awareness and enlightenment - ludicrous but there were one or two things in that book which I found had some truth in them, particularly the bits about coincidence.
To cut a long story short, coincidences are not truly coincidental. Rather, they are ordained and are meant to be. They happen for a reason. The author encouraged everyone to take note of these "coincidences" and to accept them as having more meaning than one may think.
After reading this I started to notice things which may have otherwise passed me by, usually when doing something outwith my normal routine. For example, when I lived in Stockbridge I used to catch the bus home from work in Morningside. Sometimes, according to which bus I caught, I would get off at the bottom of Dundas Street but usually I would get off on Princes Street. Usually I would walk down Frederick Street but just occasionally I would wander along Gloucester Lane. On very, very rare occasions I would walk from Morningside to Bruntsfield before catching a bus.
Every time I walked either to Bruntsfield or own Gloucester Lane I would meet someone I knew and hadn't seen for a long time. I mean every time! Inevitably the other person involved would be taking a different route from their usual one.
Anyhow, that's just the preamble. On the weekend I was doing something outside my usual Saturday routine:- I was doing some gardening! I have some music uploaded to my phone so I was listening on headphones as I chopped away at branches and so on. I have an eclectic taste (and also have the A-level set works on my playlists) and set the tracks to play in a random order, so Status Quo was first (OK, no surprise there) with a song called April, Spring, Summer and Wednesdays. Apart from the "Wednesdays" bit, as it was Saturday, this song seemed an apt way to start the afternoon in an unseasonably hot Edinburgh April.
A couple of tracks followed this until some of Stockhausen's Stimmung performed by the Theatre of Voices came on. Stimmung is an OCR A-level Music set work and I have spent ages taking my students through it, the background to it and related vocal works from the late 20th Century.
It was only when Stimmung came on that I became aware that there was a huge amount of birdsong going on in the gardens surrounding me. The strange thing was that the birds were singing in tune with Stimmung (ie in Bb). Hmm, that's a wierd coincidence I thought....
The next song, straight after Stimmung was a song by Lenny Kravitz called Eleutheria. It starts with a sort of reggae vibe and, as I don't really like reggae, I was going to skip it but, as I had muddy hands, I thought I'd just let it run. Half way through there is the line "birds are singing". Not the most original lyric ever written but quite apt given what I had heard during Stimmung.
Eleutheria (Greek word for "freedom, apparently) also contains the line "bells are ringing" but there were no bells ringing, not even a neighbours intruder alarm.
I was now actively waiting for coincidences to occur. The next one came not long afterwards. As I was using my shovel to get leaves and dust into the bin, Let It Die by Foo Fighters came on.
After a while I was aware that when my shovel hit the tarmac of the driveway, it rang on the third of the tonic chord of Let It Die (I don't know what key it is in and I don't have perfect pitch but my shovel was the third!). It rang clean and true, like a bell ringing. "Bells are ringing" as Kravitz had put it a little earlier...
(Coincidentally, part of the reason I was working in the garden was that there was some overgrowing plants from our next door neighbours and some debris from a now dead plant. Our neighbour had explained that they were going to dig up the dead plant and replace it with something else. My wife later asked me why they had "let it die" as it had very nice blooms in the summer)
A little later I decided it was time to stop, to put the tools away and tidy up. The last song I listened to was Let Love Rule, again by Lenny Kravitz. Just as I was about to enter the house, and just at the chorus, two butterflies flew past, chasing each other in a courtship ritual.
Make of this what you will. Hippy-dippy claptrap? Or proof of some sort of order in the universe? Maybe it ties in with Stockhausen's own beliefs. He believed he was born and educated on the star Sirius and that all human religions have truths which unify. This is one of the reasons for the use of a huge number of deities' names in Stimmung. The names have no hierarchy of importance and each name is really used for the sound it makes. For Stockhausen, each deity is a manifestation of a universal truth.
To finish, here's some more Stockhausen with one of his lectures on human evolution. Have fun...
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
15 Chilli
Here is a recipe for making chilli. Sorry there are no exact measurements as I just chuck stuff in and taste as necessary, usually making a huge pot and freezing some of it
Ingredients
good quality beef mince (leaner the better)
diced lean pork chops or chunks (optional)
oil
onion
garlic cloves
ground cumin
tin of chipotles in adobo
dried paesillo chilli (optional)
tins of chopped tomatos
tin of red kidney beans
very small piece of dark chocolate
Method
Chop the onion and garlic up then gently cook in some oil in a large saucepan for about 10 minutes or thereabouts. Add the mince and brown. If using the pork too I usually brown it in another pan as there isn't enough room in the one with mince in it. Add the pork to the mince once it has been browned. Stir in the cumin - lots of it.
I have tried adding chicken rather than pork but it just doesn't work. I've also used chunks of chorizo which adds a great deal of colour though can be a bit chewy with the lumps of fat in it. I've also tried using chunks of stewing beef instead of mince and it was so hot it was almost inedible as there wasn't enough meat to soak up the heat of the chillis.
The chipotles I like are made by a company called La Preferida and can be bought from Lupe Pintos in Edinburgh. If you want a mild chilli remove one chipotle from the tin and a teaspoon or so of the adobo sauce, chop up the chilli and add to the mixture. You can keep the rest for ages in a jar or tub in the fridge. If you want the chilli to be wild add and chop up all the chillis. Throw in a whole, dried paesillo chilli for a really earthy taste too but remove before serving.
Next, add the tins of tomatos. You could use passatta if you prefer. I usually use enough to cover the meat already in the pan. Cook on a fairly low heat, stirring occasionally, for about 30 minutes or so. Then add in the tin of kidney beans and grate in the piece of dark chocolate. It has to be dark chocolate not milk chocolate and don't use too much or it tastes like a dessert. Stir all this in and cook for another 30 minutes or so, again stirring every so often.
You can tell if the chilli is ready by standing a wooden spoon in the centre of the pot. If the wooden spoon stands upright in the middle of the pot without falling then the chilli is ready. If it wavers or slides to one side then you need to cook it for a while longer. Remember to remove the paesillo chilli (if you're using it) before plating up.
For best results decant into a sealed tub and, once cold, put in the fridge and leave for 24 hours before reheating and serving. Freeze the rest to cook at a later date.
Serve with rice, nachos, tortillas, chips...and a liberal dose of my pico di gallo sauce (reciple posted here a couple of months ago). A good, strong red wine, such as rioja, goes well with this.
I admit it doesn't look terribly appetising in this picture but it does taste good, honest!
Ingredients
good quality beef mince (leaner the better)
diced lean pork chops or chunks (optional)
oil
onion
garlic cloves
ground cumin
tin of chipotles in adobo
dried paesillo chilli (optional)
tins of chopped tomatos
tin of red kidney beans
very small piece of dark chocolate
Method
Chop the onion and garlic up then gently cook in some oil in a large saucepan for about 10 minutes or thereabouts. Add the mince and brown. If using the pork too I usually brown it in another pan as there isn't enough room in the one with mince in it. Add the pork to the mince once it has been browned. Stir in the cumin - lots of it.
I have tried adding chicken rather than pork but it just doesn't work. I've also used chunks of chorizo which adds a great deal of colour though can be a bit chewy with the lumps of fat in it. I've also tried using chunks of stewing beef instead of mince and it was so hot it was almost inedible as there wasn't enough meat to soak up the heat of the chillis.
The chipotles I like are made by a company called La Preferida and can be bought from Lupe Pintos in Edinburgh. If you want a mild chilli remove one chipotle from the tin and a teaspoon or so of the adobo sauce, chop up the chilli and add to the mixture. You can keep the rest for ages in a jar or tub in the fridge. If you want the chilli to be wild add and chop up all the chillis. Throw in a whole, dried paesillo chilli for a really earthy taste too but remove before serving.
Next, add the tins of tomatos. You could use passatta if you prefer. I usually use enough to cover the meat already in the pan. Cook on a fairly low heat, stirring occasionally, for about 30 minutes or so. Then add in the tin of kidney beans and grate in the piece of dark chocolate. It has to be dark chocolate not milk chocolate and don't use too much or it tastes like a dessert. Stir all this in and cook for another 30 minutes or so, again stirring every so often.
You can tell if the chilli is ready by standing a wooden spoon in the centre of the pot. If the wooden spoon stands upright in the middle of the pot without falling then the chilli is ready. If it wavers or slides to one side then you need to cook it for a while longer. Remember to remove the paesillo chilli (if you're using it) before plating up.
For best results decant into a sealed tub and, once cold, put in the fridge and leave for 24 hours before reheating and serving. Freeze the rest to cook at a later date.
Serve with rice, nachos, tortillas, chips...and a liberal dose of my pico di gallo sauce (reciple posted here a couple of months ago). A good, strong red wine, such as rioja, goes well with this.
I admit it doesn't look terribly appetising in this picture but it does taste good, honest!
Monday, September 20, 2010
14 Composing
I've had a sibeliusmusic site for several years and, thanks to that, have had many downloads and prints of my music right the way round the world. What I have never really found out is whether the people who have printed my music have performed it and whether they - and the audience - have enjoyed my music. The few bits of feedback I have have received have been positive which is gratifying but I could improve as a composer, and self publisher, with more feedback from those who print and perform the music I write.
I'm creating pages on this blog with examples of pieces I have written for various ensembles and occasions. The list is on the left of this page. If you would like to get hold of a complete copy of any of these pieces please email me. If you like the music please let me know! If you dislike the music, or feel there is some way in which I could improve then, once again, please let me know.
I'm creating pages on this blog with examples of pieces I have written for various ensembles and occasions. The list is on the left of this page. If you would like to get hold of a complete copy of any of these pieces please email me. If you like the music please let me know! If you dislike the music, or feel there is some way in which I could improve then, once again, please let me know.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
13 Books I Read This Summer
Why Does E=MC2 by Brian Cox
I never understood Maths at school. That’s not strictly true. I sort of understood it up until about the middle of 2ndyear of secondary school but then the subject lost me. It wasn’t just the complexity of the maths involved,it was the seeming lack of practical application. Calculus, coordinate geometry and all the rest of it seemed so alien, so lacking in any intrinsic worth or relevance to everyday life that it left me cold. If my maths teachers – the last of whom in particular I have every respect for – had demonstrated to me how a certain abstract equation involving x, y, dx=2, lots of (), / and ∑, ∝etc resulted in a bridge standing up, or an engine working, or even the difference between equally and well tempered klaviers, well, maybe I would have got it. Sadly the exam system didn’t allow for “why” only “how”. One drunken night after too much Newcastle Brown, I read A Brief History of Timefrom cover to cover at a scientist friend’s house. I understood every word. It was beautiful, it made sense on every level both aesthetic and scientific and I felt I understood my place in the universe and the sheer joy of its complexity. When I woke up the next day I had forgotten everything other than that I had felt enlightened some hours previously. Interestingly, that same evening I explained sonata form to my scientist friend and he got it with Brown goggles on but was none the wiser the next morning too. Since then I’ve read many “popular science” books, starting with Fermat’s Last Theorem whichwas published just after Andrew Wiles claimed to have solved this mathematical riddle of riddles. I read David Boudanis’ book E=MC2 and enjoyed it. At the start of this summer I bought Brian Cox’s offering on the same subject. Despite the blurb offering a layman’s guide to this most famous equation going, and many exhortations that a few pages of maths could be skipped if you didn’t understand it, I was back to the morning after A Brief History of Time or, more likely, 2ndyear Maths (“I’ve got a sore tummy, Mam, I can’t go to school…”). Just like with 2ndyear maths, I gave up half way through. I don’t usually give up books I’ve started, I usually persevere through to the very end but,I’m afraid I failed. Just like my Extra Maths O level.
Pandaemonium by Christopher Brookmyre
I’ve read several of Brookmyre’s novels over the years and have found them hugely entertaining if rather gory. The ones I’ve read have tended to be blood spattered, a bit rude, fastpaced and very funny in parts. Pandaemoniumwas all of these things. The best way of describing it is like a mixture of Trainspotting and The X-Files, with a bit of Angels and Demons and Wallender mixed in for fun. Despite the jolly romp of murder, sex, swearing and religious iconography, the novel did raise some important moral issues such as do the means sometimes justify the ends of a certain dogma and the perennial “don’t judge a book by its cover”.
Transition by Iain Banks
I tried reading Banks in his “Iain M Banks” guise some years ago and unfortunately chose Fearsum Endjinn whichis written in phonetics when a certain character is narrating. I found this very irritating. I managed to read Trainspotting and the scripts of Rab C Nesbiteven, despite their Scots-phonetic spelling as, having lived in Scotland for some time, I’d learned a bit of the vernacular. Fearsum Endjinndid my head in and thus put me off both Iain and Iain M. Until I bought this book at least. Again the story was told from several viewpoints and it was interesting to see how each subplot evolved and developed between the various protagonist’ssnapshots. The multiple universe idea is, of course, nothing new but having a being able to jump from universe to universe and inhabit an unknowing human who has no idea of what they were doing whilst “possessed” was new to me and an interesting conceit. I’ve revised my opinion of Banks and will try him again, maybe starting with The Wasp Factory as it’s reckoned to be fairly decent.
Bluestockings by Jane Robinson
“Bluestockings”, it seems, was a term of abuse for young ladies in the late 19th and early 20thcentury who had the temerity to seek a university education. In a patriarchal world where a woman’s role was clearly defined ie to look after the house of eitherher parents, husband or brothers if unmarried, an education was considered a waste of resources for even the most intelligent and articulate of girls. The blue stockings were themselves a sort of stereotypical uniform of those woman who did make it into higher education. Bluestockings is an account of the earliest days of women at universities and the difficulties presented along the way – fathers refusing to let their child leave the family home, chaperones everywhere to ensure dignity and chastity, universities tolerating rather than welcoming ladies’ colleges and the refusal of universitiesto even award degrees to ladies who had completed the same exams as men – one very high profile name until not that very long ago (Cambridge, by the way…). The passion for learning of the women whose stories are told is undeniable. It seems that most of them went on to marriage, motherhood and housewifery after the excitement of the forbidden fruit of an education but these pioneers opened the doors for later generations and the current crop of school leavers of either sex who see a university education as more of a right than a privilegewould do well to read this volume. The main thing which struck me, however, was how much I identified with many of the young women who felt out of their depth, particularly socially, at many of the seats of learning, especially Oxbridge. Obviously I’m a bloke so there are no sexist parallels between myself and these early female students but I found that I saw myself in many of the situations which arose eg the young lady not understanding the dress code for various functions (I didn’t know what “black tie” meant), those who found that the place seemed to be full of extremely confident and popular peers (oh boy, did I find 1styear difficult), and, most painfully, the subjects who felt that they had made the wrong choice but who battled on in order not to let anyone down. For late 19th century women read late 20th century Merthyr boys.
And Another Thing by Eoin Colfer
I read all the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxybooks as a teenager. Apart from the ones which were published after I wasa teenager of course. I seemto have missed one though as I had no idea that Arthur Dent and Trillian had a daughter called Random Dent. However, I didn’t let this put me off. I didn’t let the fact that Douglas Adams is dead put me off either. It certainly didn’t put Eoin Colfer off as he sort of carried on where Adams had left off – I assume, at least, as the book I seem to have missed or forgotten came between So Long and Thanks for All the Fish and this one in a chronological order of publication – and his writing, for me at least, was sympathetic to Adams’ style and the plot development seemed to be fairly natural, or at least as natural as may be expected in the Hitchhiker’smode of operation. One thing did strike me, however (and no, not a whale falling from the sky). Isn’t the Hitchhiker’s Guideessentially mobile internet? Douglas Adams saw it all coming….
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
…as did Ray Bradbury. This is one of those books which I felt I should have read by now, like To Kill a Mockingbird and Catch 22but I’ve never got round to it. I’m glad I read it now rather than in my teens as I wouldn’t have seen the relevance of it to modern society. The wrap around, 4 wall tv screens spewing out non-stop, soundbite drivel? Everyone plugged into their own little microuniverse watching and listening whilst ignoring those physically close? The digital relations upon whose every word we hang? Scary stuff.
Tragically I Was An Only Twin ed. William Cook
This book is part biography and part anthology of the life and work of Peter Cook. Sad to say I saw it in the library, turned to the “Derek and Clive” chapter, tried not to laugh at the “Joan Crawford” sketch which had been transcribed, and thus borrowed this tome to peruse at home. I found the biographical details of Cook’s life fascinating, from his early days entertaining friends at school to his final ruminations pretending to be a lovelorn Norwegian fisherman called Sven on a night-time phone in show on Radio Norfolk (or similar, maybe that was Alan Partridge). I found the scripts – with the exception of the expletive strewn Derek and Clive offerings – less appealing than the biographical details. Just seeing the largely improvised Derek and Clive in print was hilarious given the huge profanity involved. I am one of the sad middle agedmen referred to who can almost recite “The Horn” from memory. Cook’s relationship with Dudley Moore is central to the book of course and it is enlightening to see how Cook’s rants and rancour were directed at Moore both in Derek and Clive sketches (eg “Cancer|”” from Come Againwhich isn’t quoted in this book but which was recorded at about the time Moore’s father was either diagnosed with or died of cancer, I’m afraid I can’t remember) and in other writings such as newspaper columns. Despite this nothing can take away from Cook’s. Not only was Cook a master of comic characters and timing but he also used Moore’s character as a springboard for his flights of fancy.
Foucault’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco
My tutor at university told us to read The Name of the Rose as we embarked on our studies of medieval music as a way of “getting into” the period. That was 20 years ago. I chanced upon Foucault’s Pendulum in the library, the same day that I found Tragically I Was and Only Twinand thought that it would keep the librarian’s guessing as to whether I am some sort of intellectual or merely a jumped up pleb (the latter, obviously). The print is small and there are over 600 pages. It took me a good 100 pages to start to enjoy the book but once I delved into this work I was hooked. OK, some aspects I found annoying such as the quotes in various languages. Prof. Eco and his usual demographic may be fluent in any number of languages but I found the quotes at the start of chapters and theslips into foreign tongues in conversation irritating in the extreme. Presumably the original is not in English so why not translate it all into English for mere mortalslike myself? My French consists of enough to order a beer but not to understand the reply telling me how much it costs. My Italian is based on musical terms such as allegro, andante, poco a poco crescendo and so on. My Latin is exclusively the Ordinary of the mass, plus the texts of motets I’ve sung on several occasions. However, I persevered and was glad I did. Eco namechecks popular (or unpopular?) books such as The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail, any number of treatises on occult and esoteric subjects, deals with fairly early word processors – which really dates the story – and goes into great detail about self financing authors. I read this book whilst away on holiday. I don’t normally listen to Radio 4 but the radio in the house was tuned to this channel and I had it on in the background whilst doing some tidying (see, I have been domesticated). The programme was debating self financingauthors. How weird is that? When I read books as a teenager, a bit of a pseudo-intellectual, introverted, artistically inclined, I read with a dictionary in hand so I could check and underline the new words I encountered. If I’d done that with Foucault’s PendulumI’d still be on page 12. That’s just the words in English. Like many books of its length and complexity, the end was a bit of a let down but at least it didn’t suggest that they all lived happily ever after.
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
It must be something about the summer holidays which draws me to dystopian visions of the future – or present – so I suppose it was inevitable that I came back to Brave New World. I can’t remember when I first read it or my reaction to it but, just like with Fahrenheit 451, I think that my personal maturity and the way the world has developed in my lifetime has brought greater resonance to this work. Everyone belongs to everyone else…how true these days when you can find yourself posted on youtube with anyone else able to comment. Everyone belongs to everyone else…when I was young I kept a diary and the last thing I wanted was for anyone to read it. I imagine the rest of the “Adrian Mole” generation did similarly. Now we’d keep a blog – rather like this I suppose – and publish our thoughts and desires for all to see. And who was the “Savage”?: John, wishing for peace to live out his life in solitude?; the press, like modern paparazzi, harassing and goading him?; or the Alphas and Betas who came to gawp and urged him to flagellate himself for their entertainment? Huxley invented Big Brother in the 1930s. I’ll probably dig out 1984 or Lord of the Fliesnext. Or maybe re-read Will Self’s Book of Dave…
I never understood Maths at school. That’s not strictly true. I sort of understood it up until about the middle of 2ndyear of secondary school but then the subject lost me. It wasn’t just the complexity of the maths involved,it was the seeming lack of practical application. Calculus, coordinate geometry and all the rest of it seemed so alien, so lacking in any intrinsic worth or relevance to everyday life that it left me cold. If my maths teachers – the last of whom in particular I have every respect for – had demonstrated to me how a certain abstract equation involving x, y, dx=2, lots of (), / and ∑, ∝etc resulted in a bridge standing up, or an engine working, or even the difference between equally and well tempered klaviers, well, maybe I would have got it. Sadly the exam system didn’t allow for “why” only “how”. One drunken night after too much Newcastle Brown, I read A Brief History of Timefrom cover to cover at a scientist friend’s house. I understood every word. It was beautiful, it made sense on every level both aesthetic and scientific and I felt I understood my place in the universe and the sheer joy of its complexity. When I woke up the next day I had forgotten everything other than that I had felt enlightened some hours previously. Interestingly, that same evening I explained sonata form to my scientist friend and he got it with Brown goggles on but was none the wiser the next morning too. Since then I’ve read many “popular science” books, starting with Fermat’s Last Theorem whichwas published just after Andrew Wiles claimed to have solved this mathematical riddle of riddles. I read David Boudanis’ book E=MC2 and enjoyed it. At the start of this summer I bought Brian Cox’s offering on the same subject. Despite the blurb offering a layman’s guide to this most famous equation going, and many exhortations that a few pages of maths could be skipped if you didn’t understand it, I was back to the morning after A Brief History of Time or, more likely, 2ndyear Maths (“I’ve got a sore tummy, Mam, I can’t go to school…”). Just like with 2ndyear maths, I gave up half way through. I don’t usually give up books I’ve started, I usually persevere through to the very end but,I’m afraid I failed. Just like my Extra Maths O level.
Pandaemonium by Christopher Brookmyre
I’ve read several of Brookmyre’s novels over the years and have found them hugely entertaining if rather gory. The ones I’ve read have tended to be blood spattered, a bit rude, fastpaced and very funny in parts. Pandaemoniumwas all of these things. The best way of describing it is like a mixture of Trainspotting and The X-Files, with a bit of Angels and Demons and Wallender mixed in for fun. Despite the jolly romp of murder, sex, swearing and religious iconography, the novel did raise some important moral issues such as do the means sometimes justify the ends of a certain dogma and the perennial “don’t judge a book by its cover”.
Transition by Iain Banks
I tried reading Banks in his “Iain M Banks” guise some years ago and unfortunately chose Fearsum Endjinn whichis written in phonetics when a certain character is narrating. I found this very irritating. I managed to read Trainspotting and the scripts of Rab C Nesbiteven, despite their Scots-phonetic spelling as, having lived in Scotland for some time, I’d learned a bit of the vernacular. Fearsum Endjinndid my head in and thus put me off both Iain and Iain M. Until I bought this book at least. Again the story was told from several viewpoints and it was interesting to see how each subplot evolved and developed between the various protagonist’ssnapshots. The multiple universe idea is, of course, nothing new but having a being able to jump from universe to universe and inhabit an unknowing human who has no idea of what they were doing whilst “possessed” was new to me and an interesting conceit. I’ve revised my opinion of Banks and will try him again, maybe starting with The Wasp Factory as it’s reckoned to be fairly decent.
Bluestockings by Jane Robinson
“Bluestockings”, it seems, was a term of abuse for young ladies in the late 19th and early 20thcentury who had the temerity to seek a university education. In a patriarchal world where a woman’s role was clearly defined ie to look after the house of eitherher parents, husband or brothers if unmarried, an education was considered a waste of resources for even the most intelligent and articulate of girls. The blue stockings were themselves a sort of stereotypical uniform of those woman who did make it into higher education. Bluestockings is an account of the earliest days of women at universities and the difficulties presented along the way – fathers refusing to let their child leave the family home, chaperones everywhere to ensure dignity and chastity, universities tolerating rather than welcoming ladies’ colleges and the refusal of universitiesto even award degrees to ladies who had completed the same exams as men – one very high profile name until not that very long ago (Cambridge, by the way…). The passion for learning of the women whose stories are told is undeniable. It seems that most of them went on to marriage, motherhood and housewifery after the excitement of the forbidden fruit of an education but these pioneers opened the doors for later generations and the current crop of school leavers of either sex who see a university education as more of a right than a privilegewould do well to read this volume. The main thing which struck me, however, was how much I identified with many of the young women who felt out of their depth, particularly socially, at many of the seats of learning, especially Oxbridge. Obviously I’m a bloke so there are no sexist parallels between myself and these early female students but I found that I saw myself in many of the situations which arose eg the young lady not understanding the dress code for various functions (I didn’t know what “black tie” meant), those who found that the place seemed to be full of extremely confident and popular peers (oh boy, did I find 1styear difficult), and, most painfully, the subjects who felt that they had made the wrong choice but who battled on in order not to let anyone down. For late 19th century women read late 20th century Merthyr boys.
And Another Thing by Eoin Colfer
I read all the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxybooks as a teenager. Apart from the ones which were published after I wasa teenager of course. I seemto have missed one though as I had no idea that Arthur Dent and Trillian had a daughter called Random Dent. However, I didn’t let this put me off. I didn’t let the fact that Douglas Adams is dead put me off either. It certainly didn’t put Eoin Colfer off as he sort of carried on where Adams had left off – I assume, at least, as the book I seem to have missed or forgotten came between So Long and Thanks for All the Fish and this one in a chronological order of publication – and his writing, for me at least, was sympathetic to Adams’ style and the plot development seemed to be fairly natural, or at least as natural as may be expected in the Hitchhiker’smode of operation. One thing did strike me, however (and no, not a whale falling from the sky). Isn’t the Hitchhiker’s Guideessentially mobile internet? Douglas Adams saw it all coming….
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
…as did Ray Bradbury. This is one of those books which I felt I should have read by now, like To Kill a Mockingbird and Catch 22but I’ve never got round to it. I’m glad I read it now rather than in my teens as I wouldn’t have seen the relevance of it to modern society. The wrap around, 4 wall tv screens spewing out non-stop, soundbite drivel? Everyone plugged into their own little microuniverse watching and listening whilst ignoring those physically close? The digital relations upon whose every word we hang? Scary stuff.
Tragically I Was An Only Twin ed. William Cook
This book is part biography and part anthology of the life and work of Peter Cook. Sad to say I saw it in the library, turned to the “Derek and Clive” chapter, tried not to laugh at the “Joan Crawford” sketch which had been transcribed, and thus borrowed this tome to peruse at home. I found the biographical details of Cook’s life fascinating, from his early days entertaining friends at school to his final ruminations pretending to be a lovelorn Norwegian fisherman called Sven on a night-time phone in show on Radio Norfolk (or similar, maybe that was Alan Partridge). I found the scripts – with the exception of the expletive strewn Derek and Clive offerings – less appealing than the biographical details. Just seeing the largely improvised Derek and Clive in print was hilarious given the huge profanity involved. I am one of the sad middle agedmen referred to who can almost recite “The Horn” from memory. Cook’s relationship with Dudley Moore is central to the book of course and it is enlightening to see how Cook’s rants and rancour were directed at Moore both in Derek and Clive sketches (eg “Cancer|”” from Come Againwhich isn’t quoted in this book but which was recorded at about the time Moore’s father was either diagnosed with or died of cancer, I’m afraid I can’t remember) and in other writings such as newspaper columns. Despite this nothing can take away from Cook’s. Not only was Cook a master of comic characters and timing but he also used Moore’s character as a springboard for his flights of fancy.
Foucault’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco
My tutor at university told us to read The Name of the Rose as we embarked on our studies of medieval music as a way of “getting into” the period. That was 20 years ago. I chanced upon Foucault’s Pendulum in the library, the same day that I found Tragically I Was and Only Twinand thought that it would keep the librarian’s guessing as to whether I am some sort of intellectual or merely a jumped up pleb (the latter, obviously). The print is small and there are over 600 pages. It took me a good 100 pages to start to enjoy the book but once I delved into this work I was hooked. OK, some aspects I found annoying such as the quotes in various languages. Prof. Eco and his usual demographic may be fluent in any number of languages but I found the quotes at the start of chapters and theslips into foreign tongues in conversation irritating in the extreme. Presumably the original is not in English so why not translate it all into English for mere mortalslike myself? My French consists of enough to order a beer but not to understand the reply telling me how much it costs. My Italian is based on musical terms such as allegro, andante, poco a poco crescendo and so on. My Latin is exclusively the Ordinary of the mass, plus the texts of motets I’ve sung on several occasions. However, I persevered and was glad I did. Eco namechecks popular (or unpopular?) books such as The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail, any number of treatises on occult and esoteric subjects, deals with fairly early word processors – which really dates the story – and goes into great detail about self financing authors. I read this book whilst away on holiday. I don’t normally listen to Radio 4 but the radio in the house was tuned to this channel and I had it on in the background whilst doing some tidying (see, I have been domesticated). The programme was debating self financingauthors. How weird is that? When I read books as a teenager, a bit of a pseudo-intellectual, introverted, artistically inclined, I read with a dictionary in hand so I could check and underline the new words I encountered. If I’d done that with Foucault’s PendulumI’d still be on page 12. That’s just the words in English. Like many books of its length and complexity, the end was a bit of a let down but at least it didn’t suggest that they all lived happily ever after.
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
It must be something about the summer holidays which draws me to dystopian visions of the future – or present – so I suppose it was inevitable that I came back to Brave New World. I can’t remember when I first read it or my reaction to it but, just like with Fahrenheit 451, I think that my personal maturity and the way the world has developed in my lifetime has brought greater resonance to this work. Everyone belongs to everyone else…how true these days when you can find yourself posted on youtube with anyone else able to comment. Everyone belongs to everyone else…when I was young I kept a diary and the last thing I wanted was for anyone to read it. I imagine the rest of the “Adrian Mole” generation did similarly. Now we’d keep a blog – rather like this I suppose – and publish our thoughts and desires for all to see. And who was the “Savage”?: John, wishing for peace to live out his life in solitude?; the press, like modern paparazzi, harassing and goading him?; or the Alphas and Betas who came to gawp and urged him to flagellate himself for their entertainment? Huxley invented Big Brother in the 1930s. I’ll probably dig out 1984 or Lord of the Fliesnext. Or maybe re-read Will Self’s Book of Dave…
Monday, August 23, 2010
12 Fringe Reviews 2
So I lied when I said I was only going to 3 shows this year. I went to another one this evening, a sort of pick of the Fringe free show at the Meadows Bar. One compere and about 7 short acts. Imran Yusuf was an able compere, giving a taste of his own act, interacting with the audience – especially the unfortunate 18 year old Sophie, a Californian fitness instructor in the front row who took his fancy – and introducing the various stand ups on the bill. He spun many racial stereotypes around, for example telling of the time he lived in America and was racially abused for being English rather than Asian, being called “teacup” and having “chin-chin” shouted after him. Several of the stand ups were performing for the very first time or at least had not been performing long, and, despite some nerves, the occasional stumble and odd choice of subject matter (a Californian – again – lawyer doing a routine describing how to produce crystal meth for example) they did a good job and managed to keep the audience onside. The pick of the newcomers was Rik Carranza who described himself as being half Scottish and half Thai and, therefore, according to racial stereotypes, a “tight arsed rent boy”. Headliner Keira Murphy was more polished, delivering some snappy one liners about being a ”Weegie”and disparaging comments about her ex-boyfriend, Gordon Brown and various others. The hour long show was a mixed but enjoyable bag. Imran Yusuf kept everything ticking over nicely, the audience responded sympathetically to the new comedians, the new comedians gained important experience in a supportive atmosphere and it was free, Donations were asked for at the end. I donated £5 and have seen much worse for three times that amount. Apparently there is a different line up each night so what you get is what you get basically. If I wasn’t going back to work tomorrow I’d probably try to go again.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
11 Fringe Reviews
I've decided to review all the Fringe shows I go to this year. As I'm only going to 3 that shouldn't be too difficult to achieve
The Alleycats - Greenside venue 231 until Saturday 21st, 9:40pm £5
The Alleycats are a young a cappella group from St Andrew's University who have made quite an impact over the last few years, appearing in the finals of "Last Choir Standing" and the "Festival of the Voice" in London. Their performance is a brilliant mix of fine ensemble singing and slick dance routines which complement the music. Soloists are also strong and, even in the dull acoustic at Greenside, every syllable is clear. The arrangements are innovative and should really be written out and published - apparently the group learn by rote. School choirs in particular would appreciate a printed arrangement of the haunting "Use Somebody" by Kings of Leon, for example. High School Musical and Glee have, in recent years, popularised vocal harmony singing amongst youngsters whilst being far too removed from reality to be truly inspiring. The Alleycats are truly inspiring. Only one night left on the fringe but it would be worth checking this lot out in the future!
ps - I must admit to being biased as 2 of them used to sing in my school choir and a third was at the school I work at but, having said that, this was a truly classy performance by anyone's standards.
The Emperor's Quest
This is a show aimed at children but, like all the best children's entertainment, it works on many levels. There is, of course, a strong moral message ie be true to yourself & cheats never prosper but there are also plenty of laughs and beautiful songs. The singing and acting is excellent from all cast members though for me Andy Fraser as the Emperor stands out for his touchingly eccentric portrayal of the elderly monarch. Richard Lewis leads a fine instrumental ensemble. It is a shame that Edinburgh schools have gone back after the holiday as this show really appeals to Primary school pupils in particular. Try to go on the weekend and you won't be disappointed.
Elis James
My wife took the children to see Elis James performing a children's comedy set at The Bongo Club. He was so good she took me to see him do his "real" show. £5 for an hour of laughs was fantastic value. OK, as he and I are Welsh I maybe got the running joke about Gorki's Zygotic Mynki more than other audience members, but James had a way of bringing everyone into his warped world. The funniest thing was a joke about croissants. If you see him and he mentions the audience member who replied "Can't argue..." I'm afraid that's me. His self deprecating approach, brilliant accents and truly odd diary entries made this a super show which deserved more than 15 people in the audience.
The Alleycats - Greenside venue 231 until Saturday 21st, 9:40pm £5
The Alleycats are a young a cappella group from St Andrew's University who have made quite an impact over the last few years, appearing in the finals of "Last Choir Standing" and the "Festival of the Voice" in London. Their performance is a brilliant mix of fine ensemble singing and slick dance routines which complement the music. Soloists are also strong and, even in the dull acoustic at Greenside, every syllable is clear. The arrangements are innovative and should really be written out and published - apparently the group learn by rote. School choirs in particular would appreciate a printed arrangement of the haunting "Use Somebody" by Kings of Leon, for example. High School Musical and Glee have, in recent years, popularised vocal harmony singing amongst youngsters whilst being far too removed from reality to be truly inspiring. The Alleycats are truly inspiring. Only one night left on the fringe but it would be worth checking this lot out in the future!
ps - I must admit to being biased as 2 of them used to sing in my school choir and a third was at the school I work at but, having said that, this was a truly classy performance by anyone's standards.
The Emperor's Quest
This is a show aimed at children but, like all the best children's entertainment, it works on many levels. There is, of course, a strong moral message ie be true to yourself & cheats never prosper but there are also plenty of laughs and beautiful songs. The singing and acting is excellent from all cast members though for me Andy Fraser as the Emperor stands out for his touchingly eccentric portrayal of the elderly monarch. Richard Lewis leads a fine instrumental ensemble. It is a shame that Edinburgh schools have gone back after the holiday as this show really appeals to Primary school pupils in particular. Try to go on the weekend and you won't be disappointed.
Elis James
My wife took the children to see Elis James performing a children's comedy set at The Bongo Club. He was so good she took me to see him do his "real" show. £5 for an hour of laughs was fantastic value. OK, as he and I are Welsh I maybe got the running joke about Gorki's Zygotic Mynki more than other audience members, but James had a way of bringing everyone into his warped world. The funniest thing was a joke about croissants. If you see him and he mentions the audience member who replied "Can't argue..." I'm afraid that's me. His self deprecating approach, brilliant accents and truly odd diary entries made this a super show which deserved more than 15 people in the audience.
10 Pico di gallo sauce
I took a foray into blogging about music last year but found I didn't really have anything to say, or, at least, anything overly positive to say at the time, so I sort of stopped just after Christmas when all the reality tv "talent" shows kicked in and sent me into paroxysms of disgust.
So I've decided to change the blog name and to write about anything I feel like, rather than music exclusively. Here, therefore, is my recipe for Pico di Gallo sauce. It isn't authentic but is sort of vaguely based on the pico di gallo you used to get at the Blue Parrot Cantina in Edinburgh. The main difference is that they use sweetcorn (which I hate with vehemence) and apple (which I tolerate rather than enjoy).
The chilis I used were the first to be harvested from plants I have been growing. They are called "Apache" chilis and a rather hot. Use a chili of whichever level of strength on the Scoville scale you can stomach!
Pico di Gallo Sauce
1 red onion
1 fresh chili - green chili is better as it looks pretty juxtaposed against the onion and tomato
some tomatoes
1 lime
Chop the onion up nice and small. Chop the chilli up nice and small. Leave the seeds in if you want it to be scary. De-seed and de-pulp the tomatoes and chop them up nice and small. Put it all in a bowl. Squeeze the limes over the mixture and add to tortillas, fajitas, chilli con carne, etc, etc
So I've decided to change the blog name and to write about anything I feel like, rather than music exclusively. Here, therefore, is my recipe for Pico di Gallo sauce. It isn't authentic but is sort of vaguely based on the pico di gallo you used to get at the Blue Parrot Cantina in Edinburgh. The main difference is that they use sweetcorn (which I hate with vehemence) and apple (which I tolerate rather than enjoy).
The chilis I used were the first to be harvested from plants I have been growing. They are called "Apache" chilis and a rather hot. Use a chili of whichever level of strength on the Scoville scale you can stomach!
Pico di Gallo Sauce
1 red onion
1 fresh chili - green chili is better as it looks pretty juxtaposed against the onion and tomato
some tomatoes
1 lime
Chop the onion up nice and small. Chop the chilli up nice and small. Leave the seeds in if you want it to be scary. De-seed and de-pulp the tomatoes and chop them up nice and small. Put it all in a bowl. Squeeze the limes over the mixture and add to tortillas, fajitas, chilli con carne, etc, etc
Saturday, January 30, 2010
9 Positive start to the new year!
Happy New Year one and all! My New Year's resolution was to write positive things in this blog about my thoughts on music and its taken me the best part of a month to face it, so, here we go...
I positively choked with laughter when I heard Little Jimmy Osmond murdering "O Sole Mio" on "Popstar to Operastar" a few weeks ago. Oh dear oh dear. Firstly it ain't opera, it's a Neapolitan song. Secondly it should have been buried in a pauper's unmarked grave when the "3 tenors" hammed it up at Italia '90 and, thirdly and most importantly, the producers should not have exhumed it and driven a stake through its heart with Osmond playing Van Helsing.
Teaching a "sleb" to sing a couple of arias is one thing and I'm sure some can cross over very well (eg Freddy Mercury could certainly have cut it as an operatic tenor, Jimmy Somerville and him out of the Darkness as counter-tenors...) but the real test of their mettle would be to send them to music college for four years, then a post-grad year, a couple of of years in the chorus, some time understudying roles then a big break, just like real opera singers have to. The reality tv idea is to change someone instantly eg that programme when the posh girl tried to be a rapper or whatever it was. It was all done over a few weeks with a view to a one off performance. What about a total life change and an attrempt to excel in a totally different arena long term?
The careers of the average popstar (the mighty Quo excluded of course as they are still going strong) is about 4-5 years. Once you're over 30 thats the end of it. Why shouldn't Alex James pursue a new career as an opera singer? Jason Jones (or Jason Howard as he is known professionally) was a fireman until someone heard him sing. But Jason did it the hard - and right - way by going to music college, working like a trooper, learning the ropes and earning the breaks. Russell Watson, as we all know, was heard belting out a tune by Alex Ferguson that well known arbiter of artistic excellence. Watson did not go about it the right way and his voice suffered as a result. I know he's had serious illness and I truly wish him well in his recovery and hope he regains his vocal powers and continues to entertain the many people who love his music. He isn't an opera singer though and never will be. Neither will Katharine Jenkins. Nice enough voice, decorous to look at and so on but not a voice to send tingles down the spine.
So, what is positive about all this? Well I'm positive that I am going to rant about things and vent my spleen for the rest of this year. Of course I'm only jealous because I never had the voice to cut it in opera and never will. However, I had a go and know full well that if I sang "O Sole Mio" as badly as Jimmy Osmond I would be rightly laughed off the stage.
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I wrote the above 2 weeks ago and didn't publish. I caught some of the "Popstar to Operastar" programme last night and was amused to see Lawrence Llewellyn Bowen and Meatloaf giving their tuppence on the contestants. And then I heard the drummer (possibly, I'm not a huge fan) of McFly (possibly?) learn "Partiro" at the feet of Katherine Jenkins. As far as I'm aware (and I may be wrong) "Paritro" isn't from an opera. Please correct me if I'm wrong. Pleasant enough tune and, as my in-laws are huge fans of Andrea Bocelli, my children sing along to it in grandma's car (though, to my eternal gratitude, they change the words to "Fartiro"!). BUT IT ISN'T OPERA!!!!!
It takes more than a bit of vibrato and a bad Italian accent for it to be opera.
However, if more of the general public feel that they can approach opera, or choral music, or symphonic music after watching a programme like this then I suppose I should shut up and stop ranting. I just wish it wasn't done in such a crass manner.
"Nessun Dorma" was on the jukebox in my local in Merthyr, a really rough as ten bears place called The Eagle. There was silence whenever someone put it on. The silence was for two reasons:
1 everybody there loved it and so listened intently
2 it was usually put on by a gentleman who shall remain nameless (no, not me) who had spent time at her Majesty's leisure for GBH and no-one dared talk when he was listening to Pavarotti
The tune was out of context obviously, but it introduced Merthyr's hard men (again, not me, just the main clientel of the pub) to real opera singing.
So, to come back to a positive angle to the blog, as I missed the "Queen of the Night's Aria" last night on "Popstar to Operastar" here is my very favourite interpretation.
I positively choked with laughter when I heard Little Jimmy Osmond murdering "O Sole Mio" on "Popstar to Operastar" a few weeks ago. Oh dear oh dear. Firstly it ain't opera, it's a Neapolitan song. Secondly it should have been buried in a pauper's unmarked grave when the "3 tenors" hammed it up at Italia '90 and, thirdly and most importantly, the producers should not have exhumed it and driven a stake through its heart with Osmond playing Van Helsing.
Teaching a "sleb" to sing a couple of arias is one thing and I'm sure some can cross over very well (eg Freddy Mercury could certainly have cut it as an operatic tenor, Jimmy Somerville and him out of the Darkness as counter-tenors...) but the real test of their mettle would be to send them to music college for four years, then a post-grad year, a couple of of years in the chorus, some time understudying roles then a big break, just like real opera singers have to. The reality tv idea is to change someone instantly eg that programme when the posh girl tried to be a rapper or whatever it was. It was all done over a few weeks with a view to a one off performance. What about a total life change and an attrempt to excel in a totally different arena long term?
The careers of the average popstar (the mighty Quo excluded of course as they are still going strong) is about 4-5 years. Once you're over 30 thats the end of it. Why shouldn't Alex James pursue a new career as an opera singer? Jason Jones (or Jason Howard as he is known professionally) was a fireman until someone heard him sing. But Jason did it the hard - and right - way by going to music college, working like a trooper, learning the ropes and earning the breaks. Russell Watson, as we all know, was heard belting out a tune by Alex Ferguson that well known arbiter of artistic excellence. Watson did not go about it the right way and his voice suffered as a result. I know he's had serious illness and I truly wish him well in his recovery and hope he regains his vocal powers and continues to entertain the many people who love his music. He isn't an opera singer though and never will be. Neither will Katharine Jenkins. Nice enough voice, decorous to look at and so on but not a voice to send tingles down the spine.
So, what is positive about all this? Well I'm positive that I am going to rant about things and vent my spleen for the rest of this year. Of course I'm only jealous because I never had the voice to cut it in opera and never will. However, I had a go and know full well that if I sang "O Sole Mio" as badly as Jimmy Osmond I would be rightly laughed off the stage.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I wrote the above 2 weeks ago and didn't publish. I caught some of the "Popstar to Operastar" programme last night and was amused to see Lawrence Llewellyn Bowen and Meatloaf giving their tuppence on the contestants. And then I heard the drummer (possibly, I'm not a huge fan) of McFly (possibly?) learn "Partiro" at the feet of Katherine Jenkins. As far as I'm aware (and I may be wrong) "Paritro" isn't from an opera. Please correct me if I'm wrong. Pleasant enough tune and, as my in-laws are huge fans of Andrea Bocelli, my children sing along to it in grandma's car (though, to my eternal gratitude, they change the words to "Fartiro"!). BUT IT ISN'T OPERA!!!!!
It takes more than a bit of vibrato and a bad Italian accent for it to be opera.
However, if more of the general public feel that they can approach opera, or choral music, or symphonic music after watching a programme like this then I suppose I should shut up and stop ranting. I just wish it wasn't done in such a crass manner.
"Nessun Dorma" was on the jukebox in my local in Merthyr, a really rough as ten bears place called The Eagle. There was silence whenever someone put it on. The silence was for two reasons:
1 everybody there loved it and so listened intently
2 it was usually put on by a gentleman who shall remain nameless (no, not me) who had spent time at her Majesty's leisure for GBH and no-one dared talk when he was listening to Pavarotti
The tune was out of context obviously, but it introduced Merthyr's hard men (again, not me, just the main clientel of the pub) to real opera singing.
So, to come back to a positive angle to the blog, as I missed the "Queen of the Night's Aria" last night on "Popstar to Operastar" here is my very favourite interpretation.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
8 Christmas No 1
It has been literally decades since I gave a monkeys about who was number one in the charts, probably since Iron Maiden brought out their Number of the Beast album. This year the race for Christmas number one has been fantatstic and I'm very pleased that Rage Against the Machine won it. I have no argument about Joe McElderberry or whatever his name is and I'm sure he's a very nice young man with a pretty face who will sell lots of records over the next few months before becoming an answer on Never Mind the Buzzcocks in 2020 ("Who came 2nd in the 2009 race for Christmas no 1".."erm...Joe something...?"). Honestly, I wish the chap well in his career in an already oversubscribed arena and I may be proved wrong when he achieves long lasting fame and success as a performer and songwriter.
The backlash will probably be fierce from the "moral majority" in the papers tomorrow morning. However, take this from Gennaro Castaldo, of HMV who said the following to the BBC re RATM
"The expletive-laden song is a "powerful protest", he said, adding: "Rage Against The Machine may not be the ideal expression of the Christmas spirit - and many people will have preferred a more appropriate song to top the festive charts, but their anti-corporate message proved a perfect vehicle through which to register such a powerful protest."
The words of "Killing in the Name of" are powerful and certainly aren't "festive" but what is meant by "festive" lyrics? Some sort of glowing, romanticised view of the world in which robins dance on the snowy lawn outside while the yule log burns on the hearth and everyone gets wassailed as a newt? "Mistletoe and Wine"? Jonah Louis' (excuse spelling) "Stop the Cavalry" song is probably the best Christmas song ever as it has something approaching a message of reconciliation and hope in it. It isn't jolly (despite the ripping brass band break in the middle), doesn't exude warmth but it is a good song with good lyrics or at least it did until it became an advert for John Smith's beer.
I think "Killing in the Name Of" is the perfect Christmas chart topper. In my lifetime Christmas has become over commercialised with the pressure on everyone, especially parents, to provide huge amounts of presents or their offspring will feel unloved, worthless and different ("Everyone else is getting Call of Duty when they're 8 years old..."). I would argue that the sentiment of the lyrics of "Killing in the Name Of", if not the exact wording of the sentiment, is entirely in keeping with the spirit of Jesus' ministry. Bear with me on this while I explain...
Throughout his ministry Jesus openly pointed out the hypocrisy of the religious and political leaders of his time ("Some of those that work forces are the same that burn crosses"), he cured the lame, spoke to prostitutes, threw the money changers out of the temple and refused to be kowtowed by the Sanhedrin, the Temple authorities, the Roman authorities ("F*** you I won't do what you tell me") but, unfortunately, due to humans interpretations of the Bible, we have been "killing in the name of" Him for the past 2000 years and counting.
(By the way, before anyone complains or starts spitting hellfire and brimstone at me, I'm not trying to convert anyone or denounce anyone and certainly don't want to get into a religious slanging match about matters of doctrine etc or to annoy anyone of any religious faith. I've got an A level in RE, have read the Bible through from Genesis to Revelation twice and am entitled to my opinion & interpretation)
Of course it is ironic that the label RATM are signed to is the same one as Simon Cowell's acts but this is beside the point as far as I am concerned. They are a band who have written and performed some of the finest rock music of the past 20 years and their longevity is guaranteed.
Now, if you want a truly awful Christmas song and to donate to a good cause, go to www.justgiving.com/statusold where you will find a video of a Christmas song I've written which perfectly sums up the festive spirit whilst raising money Maggie's Cancer Care Charities.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!
The backlash will probably be fierce from the "moral majority" in the papers tomorrow morning. However, take this from Gennaro Castaldo, of HMV who said the following to the BBC re RATM
"The expletive-laden song is a "powerful protest", he said, adding: "Rage Against The Machine may not be the ideal expression of the Christmas spirit - and many people will have preferred a more appropriate song to top the festive charts, but their anti-corporate message proved a perfect vehicle through which to register such a powerful protest."
The words of "Killing in the Name of" are powerful and certainly aren't "festive" but what is meant by "festive" lyrics? Some sort of glowing, romanticised view of the world in which robins dance on the snowy lawn outside while the yule log burns on the hearth and everyone gets wassailed as a newt? "Mistletoe and Wine"? Jonah Louis' (excuse spelling) "Stop the Cavalry" song is probably the best Christmas song ever as it has something approaching a message of reconciliation and hope in it. It isn't jolly (despite the ripping brass band break in the middle), doesn't exude warmth but it is a good song with good lyrics or at least it did until it became an advert for John Smith's beer.
I think "Killing in the Name Of" is the perfect Christmas chart topper. In my lifetime Christmas has become over commercialised with the pressure on everyone, especially parents, to provide huge amounts of presents or their offspring will feel unloved, worthless and different ("Everyone else is getting Call of Duty when they're 8 years old..."). I would argue that the sentiment of the lyrics of "Killing in the Name Of", if not the exact wording of the sentiment, is entirely in keeping with the spirit of Jesus' ministry. Bear with me on this while I explain...
Throughout his ministry Jesus openly pointed out the hypocrisy of the religious and political leaders of his time ("Some of those that work forces are the same that burn crosses"), he cured the lame, spoke to prostitutes, threw the money changers out of the temple and refused to be kowtowed by the Sanhedrin, the Temple authorities, the Roman authorities ("F*** you I won't do what you tell me") but, unfortunately, due to humans interpretations of the Bible, we have been "killing in the name of" Him for the past 2000 years and counting.
(By the way, before anyone complains or starts spitting hellfire and brimstone at me, I'm not trying to convert anyone or denounce anyone and certainly don't want to get into a religious slanging match about matters of doctrine etc or to annoy anyone of any religious faith. I've got an A level in RE, have read the Bible through from Genesis to Revelation twice and am entitled to my opinion & interpretation)
Of course it is ironic that the label RATM are signed to is the same one as Simon Cowell's acts but this is beside the point as far as I am concerned. They are a band who have written and performed some of the finest rock music of the past 20 years and their longevity is guaranteed.
Now, if you want a truly awful Christmas song and to donate to a good cause, go to www.justgiving.com/statusold where you will find a video of a Christmas song I've written which perfectly sums up the festive spirit whilst raising money Maggie's Cancer Care Charities.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!
Sunday, December 13, 2009
7 The "c" word part 2: Singing Carols
Now that we are well into the Festive season I feel that I can now say the word "Christmas" without a sense of panic. As a music teacher in a huge school that caters for pupils from the age of 4-18 there are plenty of carol concerts and services to keep me busy at the moment. Four this week, four last week, two next week...
The most positive thing about having a choir involved in several of these performances is that it gives them the chance to perform the music more than once. Usually, for the non-professional performer, you rehearse a piece for months then perform it only once. You get an amazing adrenalin rush at the thought of this one off gig but you also have in the back of your mind the thought that you only get one shot at getting it right and that all depends on one performance.
One of the great things about going on tour with an amateur orchestra or choir is that the performances get tighter yet more relaxed. By the end of even a short 3 concert tour you feel relaxed enough to enjoy the performance and, as a conductor, to really work the performers eg by using rubato and so on, safe in the knowledge that everyone knows the music well enough to move with you. As a performer you get to know the music very well and start to enjoy performing without being a slave to the dots on the page.
The same is true of the Christmas season if you happen to be performing at several events. The choir I run also had to deal with having two different conductors with very different interpretations of the music involved.
The other thing which performances at this time of the year bring to the fore is performing in different cicumstances to very different audiences. In the past fortnight my choir have sung at a church service, a church concert and a private dinner and have done so with great professionalism (average age 15). They've adapted to the differing occasions - solemn, solemn yet light hearted, light hearted yet potentially very pompous - and to the differing acoustics but all the time singing music they have got to know well. The final time they sing this repertoire together, at a huge carol service, they will be relaxed enough to enjoy the performance and experienced enough to deliver a great performance.
So, despite all my usual "bah humbug" at this time of year there is such a lot to be said for singing carols in concerts, services, out and about carol singing and so on. Rehearsals are fine. Performances are great. Several performances over several occasions in varying locations can really bring a group of performers close to their peak.
Obviously I'll be cursing Christmas music once again in October 2010 but, until then, let's hear it for the Green and Orange books!!!!!!!
The most positive thing about having a choir involved in several of these performances is that it gives them the chance to perform the music more than once. Usually, for the non-professional performer, you rehearse a piece for months then perform it only once. You get an amazing adrenalin rush at the thought of this one off gig but you also have in the back of your mind the thought that you only get one shot at getting it right and that all depends on one performance.
One of the great things about going on tour with an amateur orchestra or choir is that the performances get tighter yet more relaxed. By the end of even a short 3 concert tour you feel relaxed enough to enjoy the performance and, as a conductor, to really work the performers eg by using rubato and so on, safe in the knowledge that everyone knows the music well enough to move with you. As a performer you get to know the music very well and start to enjoy performing without being a slave to the dots on the page.
The same is true of the Christmas season if you happen to be performing at several events. The choir I run also had to deal with having two different conductors with very different interpretations of the music involved.
The other thing which performances at this time of the year bring to the fore is performing in different cicumstances to very different audiences. In the past fortnight my choir have sung at a church service, a church concert and a private dinner and have done so with great professionalism (average age 15). They've adapted to the differing occasions - solemn, solemn yet light hearted, light hearted yet potentially very pompous - and to the differing acoustics but all the time singing music they have got to know well. The final time they sing this repertoire together, at a huge carol service, they will be relaxed enough to enjoy the performance and experienced enough to deliver a great performance.
So, despite all my usual "bah humbug" at this time of year there is such a lot to be said for singing carols in concerts, services, out and about carol singing and so on. Rehearsals are fine. Performances are great. Several performances over several occasions in varying locations can really bring a group of performers close to their peak.
Obviously I'll be cursing Christmas music once again in October 2010 but, until then, let's hear it for the Green and Orange books!!!!!!!
Friday, November 27, 2009
6 The Emancipation of Dissonance
Let's face it, who actually sat down and listened to Webern for the first time and thought "that is absolutely brilliant!!!!"? Have any of you?
My dissonant emancipation started in my first year at university. In their infinite wisdom they started the first year of our music degree with Music of the 20th Century and an instruction to read Erno Lendvai's book about Bartok's string quartets before we even arrived. At the time I considered Vaughan Williams to be dangerously avant-garde so for a time I really did question my decision to study music.
I told Bojan Bujic, my tutor at the time, and someone who had been taught by someone had been taught by Schoenberg, that the music of the 20th century "hurt my ears". No, really, these are the words I used. I just didn't get Bartok, let alone Webern and Berg. Or Boulez.
However, experiencing a variety of music outside lectures and tutorials helped enourmously. I was gently coerced into being on the committee of the "Oxford Contemporary Music Festival" and ended up being one of the performers in Erik Satie's Vexations (which isn't really all that dissonant or atonal, just odd) and working front of house in a performance of Messiaen's Des Canyons aux Etoiles. I don't remember much about the piece but I do remember finding the timbres, if not the melodies, fascinating. I've spoken in an earlier blog about the effect Stravinsky had on me - and it was after one of these committee meetings that I first heard Rite of Spring - but it was meeting other people, other youngsters like me (well, except the working class Welsh part) which made me reconsider what I considered to be "not really music".
Singing avant garde vocal works also helped. Hideously difficult though it was, Jonathan Harvey's Come Holy Ghost was an amazing piece to learn and perform (even if I totally murdered the tenor solo in my final year) and is one I still use to teach aleatoricism. Even Tippett's St John's Service had good points (eg it was brief if nothing else). Of course, like most new things it was exposure to atonality, electronic music, music theatre (no, not Lloyd Webber and Les poxy Mis...Maxwell Davies, Harrison Birtwistle etc) and so on that allowed someone like me to start to not only appreciate but to enjoy what was, at the time, still fairly avant garde music.
I've come full circle now. I rave to my pupils about Bartok and force them all to listen to and study the score of the last book of Mikrokosmos if they are struggling for a role model in composition. I get my first year pupils to listen to Pierrot Lunaire and Berio's Sequenza for Voice to learn about using the voice expressively. We also listen to parts of 8 Songs for a Mad King and Curlew River and compare the use of voice and flute in duet. All fairly weird stuff but, at 11/12, the pupils don't yet fully realise that it is "weird". With older classes I also blackout a room and play them Threnody: The Victims of Hiroshima. I'm not saying that they all dash to amazon.com to try to buy Penderecki's greatest hits at the end of the lesson but their ears and minds have been opened a little and a lot earlier than mine were. And there's always one or two who do want to borrow the cd and have a listen, get hold of the score, find out more...
Older generations always complain about the music of younger generations. Listening to the grindcore metal (or whatever its called) of some of my pupils it reminds me of music I listened to as a first year undergraduate. Loud, dark timbres - imagine Varese played by guitars detuned down a 5th with heavy distortion and you'll get the idea. How can these kids not like dissonant music?
Dissonance is relative. The church bells I heard on Sunday morning near Milan on tour in 1989 sounded incredibly dissonant as I was hearing the wrong overtone (they were playing Ave, ave, ave Maria which I knew in the carol arrangement by Andrew Carter). Gamelan music sounds dissonant to most "western" ears. Quite a bit of medieval choral music sounds dissonant due to the rules and characteristics of music at that time. A 7th is dissonant but does a dominant 7th chord sound dissonant? A suspension is a dissonance and, back in the day, an unprepared suspension was only a close 2nd to murder (to music theorists at least) but the suspensions make the resolutions so powerful and meaningful.
So, open your mind and ears and listen. There is no such thing as bad music.
Except country and western
My dissonant emancipation started in my first year at university. In their infinite wisdom they started the first year of our music degree with Music of the 20th Century and an instruction to read Erno Lendvai's book about Bartok's string quartets before we even arrived. At the time I considered Vaughan Williams to be dangerously avant-garde so for a time I really did question my decision to study music.
I told Bojan Bujic, my tutor at the time, and someone who had been taught by someone had been taught by Schoenberg, that the music of the 20th century "hurt my ears". No, really, these are the words I used. I just didn't get Bartok, let alone Webern and Berg. Or Boulez.
However, experiencing a variety of music outside lectures and tutorials helped enourmously. I was gently coerced into being on the committee of the "Oxford Contemporary Music Festival" and ended up being one of the performers in Erik Satie's Vexations (which isn't really all that dissonant or atonal, just odd) and working front of house in a performance of Messiaen's Des Canyons aux Etoiles. I don't remember much about the piece but I do remember finding the timbres, if not the melodies, fascinating. I've spoken in an earlier blog about the effect Stravinsky had on me - and it was after one of these committee meetings that I first heard Rite of Spring - but it was meeting other people, other youngsters like me (well, except the working class Welsh part) which made me reconsider what I considered to be "not really music".
Singing avant garde vocal works also helped. Hideously difficult though it was, Jonathan Harvey's Come Holy Ghost was an amazing piece to learn and perform (even if I totally murdered the tenor solo in my final year) and is one I still use to teach aleatoricism. Even Tippett's St John's Service had good points (eg it was brief if nothing else). Of course, like most new things it was exposure to atonality, electronic music, music theatre (no, not Lloyd Webber and Les poxy Mis...Maxwell Davies, Harrison Birtwistle etc) and so on that allowed someone like me to start to not only appreciate but to enjoy what was, at the time, still fairly avant garde music.
I've come full circle now. I rave to my pupils about Bartok and force them all to listen to and study the score of the last book of Mikrokosmos if they are struggling for a role model in composition. I get my first year pupils to listen to Pierrot Lunaire and Berio's Sequenza for Voice to learn about using the voice expressively. We also listen to parts of 8 Songs for a Mad King and Curlew River and compare the use of voice and flute in duet. All fairly weird stuff but, at 11/12, the pupils don't yet fully realise that it is "weird". With older classes I also blackout a room and play them Threnody: The Victims of Hiroshima. I'm not saying that they all dash to amazon.com to try to buy Penderecki's greatest hits at the end of the lesson but their ears and minds have been opened a little and a lot earlier than mine were. And there's always one or two who do want to borrow the cd and have a listen, get hold of the score, find out more...
Older generations always complain about the music of younger generations. Listening to the grindcore metal (or whatever its called) of some of my pupils it reminds me of music I listened to as a first year undergraduate. Loud, dark timbres - imagine Varese played by guitars detuned down a 5th with heavy distortion and you'll get the idea. How can these kids not like dissonant music?
Dissonance is relative. The church bells I heard on Sunday morning near Milan on tour in 1989 sounded incredibly dissonant as I was hearing the wrong overtone (they were playing Ave, ave, ave Maria which I knew in the carol arrangement by Andrew Carter). Gamelan music sounds dissonant to most "western" ears. Quite a bit of medieval choral music sounds dissonant due to the rules and characteristics of music at that time. A 7th is dissonant but does a dominant 7th chord sound dissonant? A suspension is a dissonance and, back in the day, an unprepared suspension was only a close 2nd to murder (to music theorists at least) but the suspensions make the resolutions so powerful and meaningful.
So, open your mind and ears and listen. There is no such thing as bad music.
Except country and western
Sunday, November 15, 2009
5 awful gigs I've done
As this is post 5 here are the 5 crappest gigs I've played. Crap for any number of reasons and in no particular order...
1 9th December 1993. Some Greek restaurant in Soho. A friend was the regular restaurant pianist and he could actually play. He got himself double booked so I played instead, thus allowing him to keep his other better paying gig. I was crap, was openly laughed at and asked to stop playing by the owner. This gig was on my 23rd birthday.
2 2004-ish. April. St John Passion in the Scottish Borders somewhere. I'd never done the Evangelist before. I sang really well in the rehearsal but my voice gave out two thirds of the way through the performance. The last half an hour was the worst musical experience I have EVER had. I redeemed myself two weeks later when we performed it again and I nailed it (no pun intended) but that one still gives me nightmares
3 Negociants, Edinburgh, 1994. We were called up last minute as there had been a cancellation. Our drummer couldn't make it as he had a real job so we did an "unplugged" set with piano, bass and guitar. There was a sound activated "trip switch" due to decibel levels. This went off when the pianist played an A for us to tune to (no digital tuners back then boys and girls) and went of at regular intervals throughout the gig. One of the more generous comments from the audience was "Fuck off you're awful". And we were. But we played to the bitter end!!!!!!!!
4 1995-ish. St Andrew's & St George's Church, Edinburgh with a programme of music by unknown (for very good reasons) Renaissance composers. The music was dreadful. My old university tutor was in the audience having been the external examiner for Edinburgh University Bmus performers. A viol consort came on and kept missing the point of imitation in an In Nomine or something like that so this music from 1570 sounded like Webern. OK, I'm being a bit pompous and haven't got time to explain to non musicians what this means but try youtube-ing Webern Bagatelles and Byrd In Nomines to hear what I'm on about. It was tongue-bitingly hilarious and skin crawlingly embarrassing, mainly as the players didn't have a clue. Thankfully I was just watching at this point.
5 Wedding in Troedyrhiw circa 1986. I was church organist and one of the bridesmaids reckoned she could sing and was asked to sing during the signing of the register. I accompanied her and it was completely dreadful. Oh deary deary me...Having said that I was asked to play the Widor at a friend's wedding in 1996 and totally murdered it. And at the first funeral I played the organ for (as a 15 year old in Troedyrhiw once again) the choir mistress sat next to me murmuring "slower, slower" all the way through the Dead March from Saul. if I'd played any slower I'd still be there now. On a more positve note I played the organ for a funeral 2 years after this in a neighbouring church, got an afternoon off school to do so and was commended on my improvisation. I'd run out of music as the hearse was 45 minutes late due to roadworks.
I've done plenty of gigs as a performer, conductor or composer with which I have been thoroughly pleased but it has been more fun trying to remember details about these awful ones than trying to remember details about really good ones.
1 9th December 1993. Some Greek restaurant in Soho. A friend was the regular restaurant pianist and he could actually play. He got himself double booked so I played instead, thus allowing him to keep his other better paying gig. I was crap, was openly laughed at and asked to stop playing by the owner. This gig was on my 23rd birthday.
2 2004-ish. April. St John Passion in the Scottish Borders somewhere. I'd never done the Evangelist before. I sang really well in the rehearsal but my voice gave out two thirds of the way through the performance. The last half an hour was the worst musical experience I have EVER had. I redeemed myself two weeks later when we performed it again and I nailed it (no pun intended) but that one still gives me nightmares
3 Negociants, Edinburgh, 1994. We were called up last minute as there had been a cancellation. Our drummer couldn't make it as he had a real job so we did an "unplugged" set with piano, bass and guitar. There was a sound activated "trip switch" due to decibel levels. This went off when the pianist played an A for us to tune to (no digital tuners back then boys and girls) and went of at regular intervals throughout the gig. One of the more generous comments from the audience was "Fuck off you're awful". And we were. But we played to the bitter end!!!!!!!!
4 1995-ish. St Andrew's & St George's Church, Edinburgh with a programme of music by unknown (for very good reasons) Renaissance composers. The music was dreadful. My old university tutor was in the audience having been the external examiner for Edinburgh University Bmus performers. A viol consort came on and kept missing the point of imitation in an In Nomine or something like that so this music from 1570 sounded like Webern. OK, I'm being a bit pompous and haven't got time to explain to non musicians what this means but try youtube-ing Webern Bagatelles and Byrd In Nomines to hear what I'm on about. It was tongue-bitingly hilarious and skin crawlingly embarrassing, mainly as the players didn't have a clue. Thankfully I was just watching at this point.
5 Wedding in Troedyrhiw circa 1986. I was church organist and one of the bridesmaids reckoned she could sing and was asked to sing during the signing of the register. I accompanied her and it was completely dreadful. Oh deary deary me...Having said that I was asked to play the Widor at a friend's wedding in 1996 and totally murdered it. And at the first funeral I played the organ for (as a 15 year old in Troedyrhiw once again) the choir mistress sat next to me murmuring "slower, slower" all the way through the Dead March from Saul. if I'd played any slower I'd still be there now. On a more positve note I played the organ for a funeral 2 years after this in a neighbouring church, got an afternoon off school to do so and was commended on my improvisation. I'd run out of music as the hearse was 45 minutes late due to roadworks.
I've done plenty of gigs as a performer, conductor or composer with which I have been thoroughly pleased but it has been more fun trying to remember details about these awful ones than trying to remember details about really good ones.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
4 Mozart
I'm not a big fan of Mozart. Obviously he was a genius, a prodigy and so on and his music will live on for ever and ever. It's just that it is so pretty. It's so well balanced, perfectly proportioned, just a bit clinical and clever for me. A gross generalisation of course, and there are bits I like. The Requiem for example (except for Süssmeyer's bits) is great and I love the opening movement of Symphony no 25 in G minor but then balanced against all that are the slow movements!!!!!
Ah, the slow movements. The only reason I sort of liked the slow movement of the Mozart sonata I played for grade VIII piano is that it was slow enough that I could play it reasonably well. Playing double bass in the slow movement of a Mozart symphony is like a creeping death by down beats. I just don't "get" it. Maybe if I played the violin I'd think differently.
Most musicians I know think me a philistine and that is probably fair enough. However, there is a part of me which doesn't want to like Mozart because everyone else does and, as a musician (as a human for that matter), you are meant to like Mozart. It's like part of the the job description. I remember buying "classical" collections as a teenager (in particular an LP of overtures with my O level set works on and ZZ Top's Eliminator in the same transaction which seemed to freak out the girl in Merthyr WHSmith for some reason) and inevitably you got Eine Kleine bloody Nachtmusik followed by the overture to Le Nozze de Figaro (when the best part of that is the trio in Act I (or is it Act II? Can't remember.) There's a lovely horn pedal point though...whoops, I'm getting enthused about Mozart now which isn't the point) plus there would be the Facile sonata...the scales, the alberti bass, that prissy tune, the fact that everyone tries to play it and slaughters it, usually (myself included). The same tunes over and over again on every damn "classical" collection. Obviously I should listen to more. Maybe the recitatives from Cosi or similiar. Or one of the other movements from Eine sodding Kleine.....
Having said that one of my favourite musical memories involves Eine bloody Kleine. I was busking around Europe after university and, in Salzburg, this guy was playing the opening arpeggio motif on the penny whiste whilst standing outside the Mozart Gebortshaus. He couldn't get past the 8th note without playing a C# instead of a D and kept repeating the same bit over and over again. It was even funnier than my cello playing in Copenhagen but that is a different story for a different post.
I gave some pupils homework to listen the first movement of a Mozart symphony (most of them went for 40 or 41) and the first movement of Bruckner's 7th symphony as a way of telling the difference between Classical and Romantic symphonies (sweeping statements but this SQA after all...). I asked them to also tell me which one they preferred and why. The ones who preferred the Bruckner did so because it seemed to have more going on, was less predictable, more "interesting". Those who preferred the Mozart found the Bruckner long winded and ponderous. I suppose Bruckner is long winded and ponderous, over the top, bombastic, repetitive, over blown, etc and that is precisely why I love his symphonies and motets in particular. I just switch off when I hear Mozart, however. Shame on me.
The more I listen to and play Haydn the more I enjoy it. Beethoven I love, especially the late stuff like the Grosse Fuge. Schubert is alright, especially the lieder. But Mozart...hmm...maybe I am a Philistine. I don't like the Beatles that much either. And I'm a huge Status Quo fan. So who am I to talk about music?
Ah, the slow movements. The only reason I sort of liked the slow movement of the Mozart sonata I played for grade VIII piano is that it was slow enough that I could play it reasonably well. Playing double bass in the slow movement of a Mozart symphony is like a creeping death by down beats. I just don't "get" it. Maybe if I played the violin I'd think differently.
Most musicians I know think me a philistine and that is probably fair enough. However, there is a part of me which doesn't want to like Mozart because everyone else does and, as a musician (as a human for that matter), you are meant to like Mozart. It's like part of the the job description. I remember buying "classical" collections as a teenager (in particular an LP of overtures with my O level set works on and ZZ Top's Eliminator in the same transaction which seemed to freak out the girl in Merthyr WHSmith for some reason) and inevitably you got Eine Kleine bloody Nachtmusik followed by the overture to Le Nozze de Figaro (when the best part of that is the trio in Act I (or is it Act II? Can't remember.) There's a lovely horn pedal point though...whoops, I'm getting enthused about Mozart now which isn't the point) plus there would be the Facile sonata...the scales, the alberti bass, that prissy tune, the fact that everyone tries to play it and slaughters it, usually (myself included). The same tunes over and over again on every damn "classical" collection. Obviously I should listen to more. Maybe the recitatives from Cosi or similiar. Or one of the other movements from Eine sodding Kleine.....
Having said that one of my favourite musical memories involves Eine bloody Kleine. I was busking around Europe after university and, in Salzburg, this guy was playing the opening arpeggio motif on the penny whiste whilst standing outside the Mozart Gebortshaus. He couldn't get past the 8th note without playing a C# instead of a D and kept repeating the same bit over and over again. It was even funnier than my cello playing in Copenhagen but that is a different story for a different post.
I gave some pupils homework to listen the first movement of a Mozart symphony (most of them went for 40 or 41) and the first movement of Bruckner's 7th symphony as a way of telling the difference between Classical and Romantic symphonies (sweeping statements but this SQA after all...). I asked them to also tell me which one they preferred and why. The ones who preferred the Bruckner did so because it seemed to have more going on, was less predictable, more "interesting". Those who preferred the Mozart found the Bruckner long winded and ponderous. I suppose Bruckner is long winded and ponderous, over the top, bombastic, repetitive, over blown, etc and that is precisely why I love his symphonies and motets in particular. I just switch off when I hear Mozart, however. Shame on me.
The more I listen to and play Haydn the more I enjoy it. Beethoven I love, especially the late stuff like the Grosse Fuge. Schubert is alright, especially the lieder. But Mozart...hmm...maybe I am a Philistine. I don't like the Beatles that much either. And I'm a huge Status Quo fan. So who am I to talk about music?
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
3 Byrd Four Part Mass
The Byrd Mass for Four Voices is a new set work for OCR A2 music. What a
fantastic choice. I enjoyed teaching the Integration of Music and Drama course for the last 5 years but this new, broad historical course gives real scope to look at the development of music and how social and economic history have played their part in new directions in music. After Byrd we move on to Bach's St Matthew Passion and from there to Stimmung!!!! The topic is called Music and Belief and, while it mainly looks at Christian belief in the context of "Western European Art Music" (I love labels like that..) the Stockhausen brings non-Christian ideas eg Tibetan chant and so on, plus the names of all manner of Mexican and Australian deities, not to mention Stockhausen's own erotic poetry. I'm particularly looking forward to that bit!
Back to Byrd. BBC broadcast a documentary called "Saced Music - Tallis and Byrd"a couple of months ago and it gave in interesting insight into the religious (and, given the era, therefore political) upheaval of the age and the way in which composers adapted in order to survive, not just "commercially" but just survive any purges of Catholics or Protestants (according to which monarch was in charge at any time). Out of such turmoil some of the most beautiful music imaginable has been created. In addition to teaching the Four Part Mass I'm rehearsing it with my school choir (all
my A2 class are in the choir I'm pleased to say) and, despite the high tessitura for the tenors and very low tressitura for the altos they are coping remarkably well with the contrapuntal lines.
I've always found the Byrd very singable. As an undergraduate choral scholar I sang mass every Sunday morning and some weeks it was more of a trial than others. Palestrina, though beautiful in its own way, was so difficult, especially for an 18 year old 1st year tenor. The Haydn and Mozart masses were quite twee, the Stravinsky just plain weird (at the time, I love it now) and the Vaughan Williams still gives me nightmares (especially "Qui sedes..."). The Byrd 4 Part was always lovely though (the 5 part mass less so as the tenors were split and on one occasion I was the only cantoris tenor on this line which was just great). Byrd seemed to float out effortlessly despite the early hour (well, 11:30ambut that is very early for an undergraduate) and the sound fitted theacoustic of the chapel perfectly. It was usually paired with the Byrd Ave Verum as a communion motet and this also remains one of my firm favourites.
The Four Part Mass is also one of the reasons I'm so keen on smaller vocal ensembles performing music from the Renaissance. I've been party to (as a soloist in another item on the same programme) the mass being sung by a choir of 120. For me it loses all its vitality, the dancing rhythms, the contrasts between sections for paired voices and those for the full choir in counterpoint and so on. It can also get quite turgid with a choir that large singing something slow and unaccompanied eg the "Sanctus". Devotional is one thing. Lethargic is another. For similar reasons I prefer my Handel with 3 or 4 to a part rather than the "Huddersfield Choral" take. Keep it light. Let the rhythms dance. It's all dance music, really....anyway, I digress...again...
Obviouly, as a music student we "did" the Renaissance and, as a choral scholar, I "did" the Renaissance too but its only since going into depth personally to prepare myself for teaching this course that I have really got into the detail of Byrd's style of writing, the way the text is infused with so much meaning via the music, the way he changes textures to reflect the meaning of the text, the sonority of the music, the difficulty of being a Catholic composer in a Protestant country who expressed his Catholicism in subtle ways through his music. He reminds me of Shostakovich in Soviet Russia writing subversive music in his symphonies which the authorities were too blinkered to understand.
fantastic choice. I enjoyed teaching the Integration of Music and Drama course for the last 5 years but this new, broad historical course gives real scope to look at the development of music and how social and economic history have played their part in new directions in music. After Byrd we move on to Bach's St Matthew Passion and from there to Stimmung!!!! The topic is called Music and Belief and, while it mainly looks at Christian belief in the context of "Western European Art Music" (I love labels like that..) the Stockhausen brings non-Christian ideas eg Tibetan chant and so on, plus the names of all manner of Mexican and Australian deities, not to mention Stockhausen's own erotic poetry. I'm particularly looking forward to that bit!
Back to Byrd. BBC broadcast a documentary called "Saced Music - Tallis and Byrd"a couple of months ago and it gave in interesting insight into the religious (and, given the era, therefore political) upheaval of the age and the way in which composers adapted in order to survive, not just "commercially" but just survive any purges of Catholics or Protestants (according to which monarch was in charge at any time). Out of such turmoil some of the most beautiful music imaginable has been created. In addition to teaching the Four Part Mass I'm rehearsing it with my school choir (all
my A2 class are in the choir I'm pleased to say) and, despite the high tessitura for the tenors and very low tressitura for the altos they are coping remarkably well with the contrapuntal lines.
I've always found the Byrd very singable. As an undergraduate choral scholar I sang mass every Sunday morning and some weeks it was more of a trial than others. Palestrina, though beautiful in its own way, was so difficult, especially for an 18 year old 1st year tenor. The Haydn and Mozart masses were quite twee, the Stravinsky just plain weird (at the time, I love it now) and the Vaughan Williams still gives me nightmares (especially "Qui sedes..."). The Byrd 4 Part was always lovely though (the 5 part mass less so as the tenors were split and on one occasion I was the only cantoris tenor on this line which was just great). Byrd seemed to float out effortlessly despite the early hour (well, 11:30ambut that is very early for an undergraduate) and the sound fitted theacoustic of the chapel perfectly. It was usually paired with the Byrd Ave Verum as a communion motet and this also remains one of my firm favourites.
The Four Part Mass is also one of the reasons I'm so keen on smaller vocal ensembles performing music from the Renaissance. I've been party to (as a soloist in another item on the same programme) the mass being sung by a choir of 120. For me it loses all its vitality, the dancing rhythms, the contrasts between sections for paired voices and those for the full choir in counterpoint and so on. It can also get quite turgid with a choir that large singing something slow and unaccompanied eg the "Sanctus". Devotional is one thing. Lethargic is another. For similar reasons I prefer my Handel with 3 or 4 to a part rather than the "Huddersfield Choral" take. Keep it light. Let the rhythms dance. It's all dance music, really....anyway, I digress...again...
Obviouly, as a music student we "did" the Renaissance and, as a choral scholar, I "did" the Renaissance too but its only since going into depth personally to prepare myself for teaching this course that I have really got into the detail of Byrd's style of writing, the way the text is infused with so much meaning via the music, the way he changes textures to reflect the meaning of the text, the sonority of the music, the difficulty of being a Catholic composer in a Protestant country who expressed his Catholicism in subtle ways through his music. He reminds me of Shostakovich in Soviet Russia writing subversive music in his symphonies which the authorities were too blinkered to understand.
Monday, October 26, 2009
2 Music that changed my life
I grew up listening to 70s rock as my brother is 12 years older than me and therefore his music dominated the house when I was young. My father was sort of into swing, Glenn Miller, that sort of style but also had a few LPs of classical music, the usual suspects such as Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, Pavarotti singing Nessun Dorma and so on which I, to my eternal shame, described as "poofter music" at the age of 9. The first piece of music which I really became aware of was Rossini's Thieving Magpie overture which my father had on an old 78rpm shellac disk to be used on an ancient gramaphone he had come by somehow.
You had to turn over the 78 as the piece lasts longer than the 3 minutes per side available. Despite the tinny quality to the sound reproduction, and the fairly shonky performance, I loved it. It sort of started my interest in music which took off when I started the piano at the age of 10. I've recently rediscovered a 78rpm version of this piece when teaching my AS class about early sound recording and reproduction. If you want to listen to it click HERE. There's a crazy gramophone shop in Edinburgh called The Gramophone Emporium, on St Stephen Street in Stockbridge, where the owners and clientele will wax (if you pardon the unintentional early recording technique pun) lyrical about these early recordings by Sir Thomas Beecham amongst others.
The next piece which really blew me away was Liszt's symphonic poem Les Preludes which I heard performed by my county youth orchestra in a big gala concert when I was 15. I'd never heard such fantastic music, such moving music, such sounds. I'd not been playing the double bass very long and this inspired me to get to a standard where I could play in this group. I've still never performed Les Preludes on the bass. I did get to battle my way through 1812 Overture about a year later when I was of the required standard, however.
Overhearing my music teacher playing Saint-Saens Organ Symphony to a 3rd year class when I was in lower 6th again made me reassess the music I was listening to. I rushed out to buy a pocket score (well, rushed in the sense of saved up and travelled 25 miles one Saturday to Cardiff). I loved listening to this piece. I still do and am still amazed that everything flows fromjust a couple of motifs, much in the way that Les Preludes flows from the first bar. Of course, most people now only know this piece as the loud bit was used as part of the sountrack to the film Babe. Again I've not played this one live though I was asked to be one of the piano duet part once. Anyone who knows my piano playing (ie can't do scales or indeed anything else technical, I'm better with honky tonk improvisation) will understand why I politely declined.
I got hold of Bruckner's 7th Symphony by accident when it was record of the month in the Britannia Music Club and I forgot to send back my slip saying that I didn't want it. Thank goodness I didn't. The 2nd movement, the coda of which was written as a memorial to Wagner, is awesome in the truest sense.
I only found out two months ago that German radio played it when it was announced that Hitler had died. Apparently he liked it too. However, Hitler didn't listen to it with the stereo on full blast with the speakers either side of his head like I did when I was 16. Again I've never performed this (do you see a pattern emerging) but I have seen it live at least. A pupil at the school I work in was playing the cymbal part, all one note of it in the 2nd movement. Very nerve racking!!!! Seriously...imagine getting that one note wrong on the cymbals...)
Then Rite of Spring came along after a drunken night out in my first year at university when one of the third year music students took pity on me when I said I'd never heard it (and I considered Vaughan Williams to be fairly avant-garde at the time). 10 pints of Wadworths and a kebab later a gang of us were back in his room and he stuck on the Stravinsky.
It was the first time I'd even seen a cd let alone heard one (we were quite behind the times in my neck of the woods). Wow...And yes, I've not performed it.
And since then very little has changed my life, well, musically anyway. I still tend to listen to the things I listened to for pleasure years ago eg Saint-Saens and so on, plus things I've learned to love through performing eg the music of Byrd and Palestrina, Bach and Handel. But very little new music comes through to you as you get older as you're not learning new ideas, finding new paths and so on unless, like me, you're a teacher of music and not afraid to ask your pupils what they listen to. In the last 5 years I've "discovered" bands I should have been listening to for years eg Red Hot Chili Peppers, Rage Against the Machine, System of a Down. And then one day I bought a cd on the off chance, having read something about the band involved in a music mag. This cd was Absolution by Muse and, for the first time in maybe 15 years, I had a revelation and my musical life was changed. I stuck the cd in the car cd player, pressed play and within 2 bars of Matt Bellamy's piano kicking in I was hooked. It gave me the same buzz, the same sense of excitement, the same sense of something new and wonderful that Liszt's Les Preludes had 20 years previously. I bought their back catologue on the basis of this one cd and was not disappointed. And live they are BRILLIANT.
I'm waiting for the next piece to of music to change my life. Any style, any era, I'm waiting...
You had to turn over the 78 as the piece lasts longer than the 3 minutes per side available. Despite the tinny quality to the sound reproduction, and the fairly shonky performance, I loved it. It sort of started my interest in music which took off when I started the piano at the age of 10. I've recently rediscovered a 78rpm version of this piece when teaching my AS class about early sound recording and reproduction. If you want to listen to it click HERE. There's a crazy gramophone shop in Edinburgh called The Gramophone Emporium, on St Stephen Street in Stockbridge, where the owners and clientele will wax (if you pardon the unintentional early recording technique pun) lyrical about these early recordings by Sir Thomas Beecham amongst others.
The next piece which really blew me away was Liszt's symphonic poem Les Preludes which I heard performed by my county youth orchestra in a big gala concert when I was 15. I'd never heard such fantastic music, such moving music, such sounds. I'd not been playing the double bass very long and this inspired me to get to a standard where I could play in this group. I've still never performed Les Preludes on the bass. I did get to battle my way through 1812 Overture about a year later when I was of the required standard, however.
Overhearing my music teacher playing Saint-Saens Organ Symphony to a 3rd year class when I was in lower 6th again made me reassess the music I was listening to. I rushed out to buy a pocket score (well, rushed in the sense of saved up and travelled 25 miles one Saturday to Cardiff). I loved listening to this piece. I still do and am still amazed that everything flows fromjust a couple of motifs, much in the way that Les Preludes flows from the first bar. Of course, most people now only know this piece as the loud bit was used as part of the sountrack to the film Babe. Again I've not played this one live though I was asked to be one of the piano duet part once. Anyone who knows my piano playing (ie can't do scales or indeed anything else technical, I'm better with honky tonk improvisation) will understand why I politely declined.
I got hold of Bruckner's 7th Symphony by accident when it was record of the month in the Britannia Music Club and I forgot to send back my slip saying that I didn't want it. Thank goodness I didn't. The 2nd movement, the coda of which was written as a memorial to Wagner, is awesome in the truest sense.
I only found out two months ago that German radio played it when it was announced that Hitler had died. Apparently he liked it too. However, Hitler didn't listen to it with the stereo on full blast with the speakers either side of his head like I did when I was 16. Again I've never performed this (do you see a pattern emerging) but I have seen it live at least. A pupil at the school I work in was playing the cymbal part, all one note of it in the 2nd movement. Very nerve racking!!!! Seriously...imagine getting that one note wrong on the cymbals...)
Then Rite of Spring came along after a drunken night out in my first year at university when one of the third year music students took pity on me when I said I'd never heard it (and I considered Vaughan Williams to be fairly avant-garde at the time). 10 pints of Wadworths and a kebab later a gang of us were back in his room and he stuck on the Stravinsky.
It was the first time I'd even seen a cd let alone heard one (we were quite behind the times in my neck of the woods). Wow...And yes, I've not performed it.
And since then very little has changed my life, well, musically anyway. I still tend to listen to the things I listened to for pleasure years ago eg Saint-Saens and so on, plus things I've learned to love through performing eg the music of Byrd and Palestrina, Bach and Handel. But very little new music comes through to you as you get older as you're not learning new ideas, finding new paths and so on unless, like me, you're a teacher of music and not afraid to ask your pupils what they listen to. In the last 5 years I've "discovered" bands I should have been listening to for years eg Red Hot Chili Peppers, Rage Against the Machine, System of a Down. And then one day I bought a cd on the off chance, having read something about the band involved in a music mag. This cd was Absolution by Muse and, for the first time in maybe 15 years, I had a revelation and my musical life was changed. I stuck the cd in the car cd player, pressed play and within 2 bars of Matt Bellamy's piano kicking in I was hooked. It gave me the same buzz, the same sense of excitement, the same sense of something new and wonderful that Liszt's Les Preludes had 20 years previously. I bought their back catologue on the basis of this one cd and was not disappointed. And live they are BRILLIANT.
I'm waiting for the next piece to of music to change my life. Any style, any era, I'm waiting...
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
1 The "C" Word
In September I cannot mention the "C" word...the festive period in December...the time of midwinter celebration...you know what I'm on about? I like "that time of year" as much as anyone else and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the music involved, well, some of it. Its just that for me and folk like me (ie music teachers) it starts in August when we need to start rehearsing for it. I'm lucky that I usually manage to put it off until about mid October - ie in a week when I go back after half term - but its always there nagging in the background or lurking somewhere in the music department. Sleigh bells, cheesy slushy string arrangements, chestnuts roasting...from early October onward on TV (I have already seen a Christmas "C-word" ad on TV. 1st week of October)...at least supermarkets have the decency these days to go overboard about Halloween so at least you get "The Monster Mash" or similar for the last week of October.
But then it will be wall to wall jollity with the occasional piece of slow fluff for grandma. To be fair to all the songwriters of the 30s-50s at least their songs had some sense of longevity and were well constructed (OK, Slade are OK too). But then last year even Status Quo did one...
How the mighty have fallen.
A few years ago I was asked to present an assembly to our entire senior school (1200 11-18 year olds in a hall) about carols and then produce a cheesy "sing-along" backing track. I'm sure they were fascinated (not) by the historical perspective of the carol as a celebratory song sung to a circle dance and so on. Well, maybe not. They at least sang with gusto for a change. Still, the cheesy backing had all manner of sleigh bells and jingly synth sounds and I'm really quite ashamed of it.
However, we at least have the doyen (however it is spelled and whatever it means) of popular song composers to cut through to the heart of the matter. All power to Tom Lehrer's elbow!
But then it will be wall to wall jollity with the occasional piece of slow fluff for grandma. To be fair to all the songwriters of the 30s-50s at least their songs had some sense of longevity and were well constructed (OK, Slade are OK too). But then last year even Status Quo did one...
How the mighty have fallen.
A few years ago I was asked to present an assembly to our entire senior school (1200 11-18 year olds in a hall) about carols and then produce a cheesy "sing-along" backing track. I'm sure they were fascinated (not) by the historical perspective of the carol as a celebratory song sung to a circle dance and so on. Well, maybe not. They at least sang with gusto for a change. Still, the cheesy backing had all manner of sleigh bells and jingly synth sounds and I'm really quite ashamed of it.
However, we at least have the doyen (however it is spelled and whatever it means) of popular song composers to cut through to the heart of the matter. All power to Tom Lehrer's elbow!
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