I wanna join in! Lists of the year, PAH. Lists of the decade, HURRAH. Though, at the risk of turning into Toby Ziegler, why does the decade end this year, and not next year? Why is the decade not 2001-2010, rather than 2000-2009? Can we bring up the bit where there wasn’t a year nought, or is that all cliche and annoying? Anyway, moving on… Lists! Lists are fun. Top Tens! I can do books and TV and movies of the decade, although we should all bear in mind that I have not yet started watching The Wire. I probably can’t do theatre, not sensibly, since I don’t go very often (as often as I’d like), though I can wave my arms up and down and talk about the few things I did see and the plays that really stuck with me, and music. Hmmm, I’ll try, but that might get quite random, and will essentially be ‘Ten records what I have loved with absolutely no critical or aesthetic thought behind it’. I think they’re going to be unordered lists, because, well, trying to rank things like The Assination of Jesse James, The Lord of the Rings, and The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind against each other is kinda daft. They’re also going to be lists that mix up the things that I think have been really really good with things that have become a part of my personal furniture. So the Eyre Affair may knock Fortress of Solitude out of the books list because it has been a bigger part of my decade. Just be warned, it’s going to be a little bit bonkers, and pretty much all about me, with no real grounding in any theories of aesthetics.
Books. Ok, I give up. I’m having a fiction and a non-fiction list. No arguing from the back. Fiction
Purple Hibiscus – Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
The Algebraist – Iain M. Banks
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay – Michael Chabon
The Eyre Affair – Jasper Fforde
A Life’s Music – Andrei Makine
Atonement – Ian McEwan
Cloud Atlas – David Mitchell
Kafka on the Shore – Haruki Murakami
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix – J.K Rowling
Anathem – Neal Stephenson
Non-Fiction
Pedant in the Kitchen – Julian Barnes
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius – Dave Eggers
The Zanzibar Chest – Aidan Hartley
Code 2.0 – Lawrence Lessig (I haven’t read Remix yet, but I suspect it’s more important for the noughties and the future).
The ecstasy of influence: A plagiarism – Jonathan Lethem (yes, ok, it’s an essay, but do I care? no)
The Audacity of Hope – Barack Obama
An Utterly Impartial History of Britain, or 2000 Years of Upper Class Idiots in Charge – John O’Farrell (well, it’s not fiction…)
A History of Britain – Simon Schama
A Constitution of Many Minds – Cass Sunstein
Consider the Lobster – David Foster Wallace
Movies
The Assassination of Jesse James
The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Gosford Park
Infernal Affairs
In the Mood for Love
The Lord of the Rings (I will count three as one, but if you make me pick just one, I’ll go for Fellowship every time)
Pan’s Labyrinth
The Royal Tennenbaums
Shaun of the Dead
Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit
TV
Band of Brothers
Battlestar Galactica
Black Books
Bleak House
Doctor Who
Firefly
State of Play
The Thick of It
The West Wing
Veronica Mars
(plus a very honourable mention to Dr Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog, which is not strictly television, but which must go somewhere on the list for being ACE)
Music
Carastini: Story of a Castrato – Philippe Jaroussky
DZf – Guy Barker
The Eminem Show – Eminem
Fleet Foxes – Fleet Foxes
Gua – Emmanuel Jal and Abdel Gadir Salim
The Lord of the Rings Soundtracks – Howard Shore
The Orpheus Suite – Colin Towns’ Mask Orchestra
Raising Sand – Robert Plant and Alison Kraus
Savane – Ali Farka Toure
Smile – Brian Wilson
Theatre I’m willing to jump up and down and wave my arms about… and I include ballet.
The Bacchae – twice over, Kneehigh’s version at the Hall for Cornwall, and the Alan Cumming starring version at the Edinburgh Festival
Giselle – The Royal Opera House, with Alina Cojocaru and Johan Kobborg.
Jumpers – Tom Stoppard, at the National Theatre
Noises Off – Michael Frayn (I was in actual physical pain from laughing so hard), at the National Theatre
The Nutcracker Sweeties/Orpheus Suite/Shakespeare Suite Triple Bill – Birmingham Royal Ballet.
The Real Thing – Tom Stoppard (I saw it at the Albery in January 2000, ok, so it counts)
Tristan and Yseult – Kneehigh Theatre at the Minack
Waiting for Godot – Samuel Beckett, in Edinburgh with Ian McKellan and Patrick Stewart
War Horse – Nick Stafford, at the National Theatre
To start with a random aside. One of the problems with Peter Mandelson’s Digital Economy Bill (other than the widely reported facts of it not being workable, or in any way in touch with the modern world, and if you want a really good explanation of why, you should read Hannah Nicklin’s open letter to the man himself) is that it’s hard to say that it’s a deeply stupid idea, without actually admitting that you’ve broken it, and that puts you in an interesting legal position. Incidentally, does anyone know if this bill is going to be retroactive?
Anyway, the point of this is that without the internet and friends sending me music I’ve not heard by artists I’ve never heard of, I would never have heard of the French Countertenor Philippe Jaroussky. And that would mean that his record company wouldn’t have made the money that they have off me for the two albums I’ve bought so far and the future albums I intend to buy in a month when Christmas isn’t imminent, and whoever makes money off concerts wouldn’t have made money off me buying a ticket to go see him at the Kölner Philharmonie, and no one would make money from me buying his albums to give to people for Christmas/birthdays. I would almost certainly not have thought to pick up an album of Castrati songs by a singer I’d never heard of. The only other way I might have come across it would have been if Jaroussky had been performing at the Proms and I’d happened to hear that particular concert on the radio or on iPlayer. And then not only would people be losing out on making money off me, I would be missing out on some seriously gorgeous music.
On Thursday Philippe Jaroussky was performing Handel and J.C. Bach, with Nicolau de Figueiredo on Harpsichord and the Concerto Köln. It was beautiful. Gorgeous music, and such an engaging performance. I’m normally fairly rubbish at sitting in a concert hall listening to a performance without fidgeting, but I was pretty much entranced. He performed about four or five encores – after each round of applause people left the auditorium and then missed out on another song. It was wonderful. Can I have a tardis and go back in time to go hear it all again?
So music business, I hope you enjoy the money I have and shall continue to give you in order for me to carry on enjoying the work of Philippe Jaroussky, but please don’t forget, you’re only getting it because I was able to try it first to see if I liked it.
I always suspected that living in a city would bankrupt me, as I would spend all my money on going to the theatre and the ballet. It’s why I’ve often considered it a good thing that I am ambivalent about the prospect of living in London (although if one of the applications I’ve submitted for next year comes through that’s where I’ll be) – I know the National Theatre and the Royal Opera House often have cheap tickets, but I’d still end up ruined.
I mention this, having been to the Kölner Philharmonie twice in a week. Ahem. That said – the first was a freebie courtesy of the university’s international office, tickets to see a show called ‘Fanfare Ciocarlia’ – a performance by a band from Romania. Also, I left at the interval because I was tired – and whilst I did enjoy the music, I tend to enjoy it more outside of the concert hall – especially a sit-down concert hall like the Philharmonie.
I went again last night, though, under my own steam, to see The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment play Hayden – three symphonies and the Trumpet Concerto (which is one of my personal favourites), with David Blackadder as a soloist. While I wasn’t bowled over by the concerto, I did like the slightly different sound that the natural trumpet brought to it – I’d not heard it that way before. I also had a rather good view. I had shelled out a whole €8.50 to sit in the top level of those little ice cream bowl shaped balconies you can see behind the stage – right up in the gods, on a level with the big light fixture. But because the performance wasn’t sold out (wasn’t even HALF sold out I think), the ushers let everyone in those seats move down to the ‘chorempore’ – the choir seats behind the orchestra. So I had a pretty much perfect view of everything – except David Blackadder’s face during his performance – but I can live with that. It’s much more fun to be able to watch the conductor, anyway, and Yannick Nézet-Séguin, the conductor, turns out to be one of those whole-body type conductors – appearing to draw out the music by means of interpretative dance rather than conducting the orchestra. It was rather wonderful.
I am not very good at listening to live music in concert halls though, I think. I get fidgety easily, and I’m not used to sitting and listening to music, especially classical music. I have it on in the background a lot of the time, but then you’re doing something and listening, and I’m used to listening to it at the ballet or opera, but then you’re watching and listening. Sitting still and watching and listening a bunch of people play instruments (as opposed to bouncing around at a gig or whatever) seems odd and possibly unnatural. I need to practice, clearly. So with that in mind, I have bought tickets to go and see Philippe Jaroussky, the French countertenor, when he performs at the Philharmonie. If you haven’t heard of him, I highly recommend his Carestini: The Story of a Castrato, which has unexpectedly become one of my favourite albums. It’s beautiful stuff. So I’m looking forward to that – and I even splurged on sitting to the front of the stage this time.
Also – if anyone has a spare €70-odd that they want to donate to a worthy cause, Cecilia Bartoli is singing here next month, and I’d love to go…
Posted 4 months, 3 weeks ago at 13:43. Add a comment
Today I did actual sightseeing stuff. I went to the Römisch-Germanische Museum, which is home to all the fun ancient things that have been dug up around here. Mostly it’s too late for my tastes, being AD – although I have learnt to identify a bust of Augustus at 20 paces. Teaching archaeology and running around Roman museums has done that much for me. I really need to take a tame archaeologist with me to the museum, in order to properly appreciate all the stuff that’s in there – because it is clearly a really good collection that properly illustrates Roman life in the Germanic provinces. I just don’t know anything, really, about that (except that some of the Imperial family hung around up here fighting battles), and I can’t properly read the explanations, as my German isn’t that good (and my imperial archaeology isn’t good enough to guess). Then I think I will get much more out of it. That said, the two big mosaics (the Dionysus and the Philosophers) and the reconstructed Tomb of Poblicius can’t fail to impress even *this* Republican philistine. They really are stunning – and beautifully displayed. I invested in a year’s pass to the Cologne Museums (it covers all the major beasts), which at €50 for students was an absolute steal. You’d comfortably spent €20 visiting three of the eight or nine covered, as a student, and I have plans to go to all of the ‘big three’ (the Römisch-Germanische, the Ludwig, and the Wallraf-Richartz) more than once. And I’m only here for six months. Even if you’re not a student, the year’s pass is only about €68, which is still worth it.
After all the ancientness, I decided to take advantage of the sunshine – and ended up wishing I’d taken my sunglasses – before going to listen to Vespers at the Kölner Dom. There’s this pilgrimage thing – Domwallfahrt 2009 – going on at the Dom, and there’s a bunch of services taking place, so I thought I’d go and listen to some music in stunning acoustics. I strolled across the Hohenzollernbrücke (which is the railway bridge) to see the view back to the cathedral. You’d never think that a railway bridge and station would do much more than spoil the view of a gothic cathedral, but the juxtaposition really does work – despite the fact that the sun was directly above the Dom, requiring much eye-screwing-up. I’m going to go back in the morning and after dark some time to take some more photos across the Rhine. Vespers was lovely, too. I only stayed for a little while (and sat through the build-up before hand, which is what the last photo shows), but it was just perfectly relaxing, and the music (girls’ choir) was gorgeous. I think I’m going to have to go back for more services in a language and denomination I don’t understand.
Posted 5 months, 2 weeks ago at 14:01. Add a comment
A friend of mine reminded me that it is the anniversary of the Penlee lifeboat disaster today. On 19 December 1981 the Union Star developed an engine fault off the Wolf Rock, the fuel supply became contaminated by sea water and the weather continued to worsen, driving the ship onto the rocks near Penlee Point. The Penlee Lifeboat the Solomon Browne was launched, manned by eight volunteers, and attempted to rescue the eight passengers and crew of tthe Union Star. The weather was so bad that the Royal Navy Sea King helicopter was unable to airlift the crew from the ship, but the Solomon Browne made repeated attempts to pull alongside.
The Solomon Browne’s last message was: “We’ve got four men off, hang on, we have got four at the moment. There’s two left on board…”, at which point the radio went dead and her lights disappeared. Lifeboats from Sennen Cove and St Marys on the Isles of Scilly attempted a search and rescue for survivors, but none were found.
The crew of Solomon Browne were: William Trevelyan Richards (Coxswain), James Madron (2nd Coxswain.), Nigel Brockman, John Blewett, Kevin Smith, Barrie Torrie, Charles Greenhaugh and Gary Wallis. Nigel Brockman’s son, Neil, still serves on the Penlee lifeboat. He volunteered for the 1981 ’shout’ but was sent back by Richards who did not want two members of the same family out in such conditions. Tonight, as every year, the world famous Christmas illuminations of Mousehole will be turned off at 8pm for an hour as an act of remembrance.
Now, some people, who I’m sure are very nice and very intelligent, have come up with a list of personality traits matched with music tastes. But what I want to know is what it says about your personality if you like Jazz, Classical, and Indie, as I do.
INDIE
Low self-esteem, creative, not hard working, not gentle
JAZZ
High self-esteem, creative, outgoing and at ease
CLASSICAL MUSIC
High self-esteem, creative, introvert and at ease
So I’m outgoing, introverted, and have both high and low self-esteem. Ha.
Once upon a time, Melanie christened Brian Wilson ‘The Thunderbird’, because, she says, he moves his arms like they’re on strings whilst he plays nowadays. And he is one of the obvious reasons why taking lots of drugs is a Bad Plan. Ozzy Osborne is another. Certain Other Current Stars must be heading up that list too. Anyway.
Ignoring, Miss Mog’s slurs as to his puppet-like-ness, Brian Wilson can actually still turn out a cracking tune, if nothing quite as classic as God Only Knows or Surf’s Up. I went to see his new piece, ‘That Lucky Old Sun’ in Edinburgh on Saturday.
Now, it has to be said that the Edinburgh Festival Theatre doesn’t quite have the acoustics to handle a band the likes of which Brian Wilson tours with now, so some of the lyrics got a bit lost. Though, as obviously everyone in the audience (and probably the western world) knows the lyrics to Barbara Ann, which was one of the encore songs, it doesn’t matter so much for the classics. It did spoil the new stuff a little bit, but not much. Still, it was rather lovely – a return to his narrative and cohesive albums, rather than the collections of songs that have been his recent solo efforts. I especially liked Good Kind of Love.
And of course, he played a huge number of the classic Beach Boys songs – God Only Knows, Good Vibrations, Heroes and Villains, Fun Fun Fun, Help Me, Rhonda, Surfin’ USA and so on.
