So I had this thought to try and play the harp at the local cafe, Cake Boutique, here on Lavender Hill, and after a quick lunch and chat with my friend Mohammed, and a few phone messages to various friends, an hour and a quarter later Bluebell and I were sitting a la shopfloor plus 4 guests and I was plucking the harp strings for the 2nd time of asking in some sort of public context. Fee received: £1 off my lunch bill. (We were seeing how things went...) so... I've earned my first pound as a harpist: hurrah! Big thanks to lovely neighbor Jayne, Susi and young Flora MacInnes and Ant for their support with between one hour and 30 mins notice.
Respect to their spontaneity!
Felt quite proud of being that bold and also rather pleased with how it sounded - I recorded it. Long way to go before the Ceremony of Carols becomes an option but a start has been made...!
Bluebell has Brigid's funeral today so this will now be her 3rd outing.
Wondrous news from Bazard was that Hels had a little boy yesterday - PRAISE THE LORD! That was in addition to the good news that George Montgomery Eyre Evans was born on Monday, sharing the same birthday as my dear Mama, (A few years apart that is...)
Barnarnaraby popped over last night and we jammed till gone 10pm. Managed to have a look at my new song which he thought was the best thing I'd written yet, as did Rich. Interesting. I think they're right.
Susi Barran-Poolopot popped over with Rondle on Tuesday for Mum's birthday supper - much fun! Guests slipped off at about 1030 saying they didn't want the evening to end. Roast chicken and red lentils plus sweet potatoes seemed to go down well... lovely Tiramisu: thanks Monsieur Tesco.
The last week or so I've been limping a little bit due to injuries sustained during the call of physical duty. Yes. I have a blister. A bad one. A penicillin taking one. Interesting though has been trying to focus the mind when I can only think about the throbbing foot: prayer has been almost impossible to my usual pattern in the morning so 'I've been offering it up' as they say.That whole debate about which would you choose: mental pain or physical pain has always been a weird one to me: guess I've more experience of the one than the other and I think I agree with the traditional verdict that the physical is to be preferred, but it's a pain in the neck (to coin a phrase) when it happens and very distracting.
Regarding the ongoing project that is the great Harmer Album, Rich and JP and Mike Cayton (hopefully) seem to be getting ready to gather to record at least some tentative demos/Midi files in late July which is really exciting. It's been almost 2 years in the making and I'm not sure how far we've still got left to climb but the end is now more than rumor and we've hit the snowline you might say. The peak is still somewhat shrouded in mist or maybe we're just waiting for the dawn. Aaron's still keen which is gratifying.
It's been a fab week.
Aviary took me to the opera on Monday to see the Damon Albarn offering, Doctor Dee, at the Coliseum. Rather dark spiritually (2 live crows; spirits; talking to 'angels' of uncertain provenance; mystical symbolism with lots of diagrams on the floor etc.) but certainly very magical in the sense of.... well.... I'm rooting for the correct positive word and I'm not sure there is one!!!! Lovely trip though: see the photos of Aviary attached.
Sunday was rehearsal chez Rich Mix for Benjamin Till Esq. Great fun! His London Requiem is superb.
MOLTO GRAZIE!!!!
Thursday, 28 June 2012
Thursday, 21 June 2012
Bluebell's second outing...
Bluebell is having another outing...! Hurrah!
Sad circumstances though )o: - Brigid's funeral. Lovely Brigid who was such a partner to Malcolm and oh so much singing from the same songsheet as he. Lovely Brigid, with whom I walked round parts of Salzburg and Berlin and who was so sweet and kind. Really one of those blessed people one is always glad to see: positive, happy, outgoing, compassionate. Gosh, she'll be so missed.
Occasionally one meets a couple and thinks: this really is a marriage, a meeting of hearts and minds and souls and spirits. Brigid and Malcolm were such a one. Their relationship was very special and a great blessing to others.
He's devastated.
I'm also playing some Leonard Cohen and Beatles at the funeral as well as playing them in and out on the harp. This could be quite a teary occasion...
Wasn't the weather sublime yesterday?! I dined with Simon Young, my piano teacher from when I was aged 4-7, at the Savile Club in W1, and though we didna sit upon the terrace it was a balmy Summer's evening when we emerged at 11ish to head to the tube, the sort of evening one remembers from holidays in Greece and the like. Bliss!
Lunch was Chez Aviary and this time very much outdoors, although Charlie, Aviary and I were somewhat cursed by the neighbours seizing upon the sunlit opportunity to do some industrial scale use of the electric garden equipment..... TRRRRRRRRRrrrrrmmmmmmm (GROAN!)
Out of the blue, my mission to the Sainsbury's herb counter for Aviary's delish baked potatos meant I bumped into Maggie Collinge/Postlethwaite whom I haven't seen for nigh on 8 years or less, since singing at her wedding to John. She's now based in NZ and surfaces this side of the globe de temps a temps to visit her extensive family. Most enlightening...
Maggie introduced me years ago to her dear friend the late composer, Tom Eastwood, a deeply lovely and peaceful man who lived along the road from her in smart Fulham, but in some destitution. We worked together a couple of times and I loved the music of his that I got to perform, especially his opera The Voyage of the Catarineta which we put on at the Barbican in 1992. Justino Harmerando made his professional operatic debut creating the role of Grub, the ship's cook. (I had a duet. It was ok.) His nephews read poems at his funeral - Joseph and Ralph Fiennes.
I remember Mama had a conversation with Tom at a Barran-Poolopot party that she reported back to me: he had said that his ambition was to write a piece of music that would bring about world peace. Gosh.
Is that a realistic ambition for anyone? I feel quite chuffed if I manage to move even one person to tears of joy or sadness with a performance or composition, let alone usher in the Golden Age.
For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophet bards foretold,
When, with the ever circling years
Shall come the age of gold;
When Peace shall over all the earth,
Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world give back the song,
Which now the angels sing.
I seem to remember there'll be lots of harp music then by all accounts too, but hopefully not so frequent funerals.
For Brigid and also for Tom Lord, Molto, Molto Grazie.
Sad circumstances though )o: - Brigid's funeral. Lovely Brigid who was such a partner to Malcolm and oh so much singing from the same songsheet as he. Lovely Brigid, with whom I walked round parts of Salzburg and Berlin and who was so sweet and kind. Really one of those blessed people one is always glad to see: positive, happy, outgoing, compassionate. Gosh, she'll be so missed.
Occasionally one meets a couple and thinks: this really is a marriage, a meeting of hearts and minds and souls and spirits. Brigid and Malcolm were such a one. Their relationship was very special and a great blessing to others.
He's devastated.
I'm also playing some Leonard Cohen and Beatles at the funeral as well as playing them in and out on the harp. This could be quite a teary occasion...
Wasn't the weather sublime yesterday?! I dined with Simon Young, my piano teacher from when I was aged 4-7, at the Savile Club in W1, and though we didna sit upon the terrace it was a balmy Summer's evening when we emerged at 11ish to head to the tube, the sort of evening one remembers from holidays in Greece and the like. Bliss!
Lunch was Chez Aviary and this time very much outdoors, although Charlie, Aviary and I were somewhat cursed by the neighbours seizing upon the sunlit opportunity to do some industrial scale use of the electric garden equipment..... TRRRRRRRRRrrrrrmmmmmmm (GROAN!)
Out of the blue, my mission to the Sainsbury's herb counter for Aviary's delish baked potatos meant I bumped into Maggie Collinge/Postlethwaite whom I haven't seen for nigh on 8 years or less, since singing at her wedding to John. She's now based in NZ and surfaces this side of the globe de temps a temps to visit her extensive family. Most enlightening...
Maggie introduced me years ago to her dear friend the late composer, Tom Eastwood, a deeply lovely and peaceful man who lived along the road from her in smart Fulham, but in some destitution. We worked together a couple of times and I loved the music of his that I got to perform, especially his opera The Voyage of the Catarineta which we put on at the Barbican in 1992. Justino Harmerando made his professional operatic debut creating the role of Grub, the ship's cook. (I had a duet. It was ok.) His nephews read poems at his funeral - Joseph and Ralph Fiennes.
I remember Mama had a conversation with Tom at a Barran-Poolopot party that she reported back to me: he had said that his ambition was to write a piece of music that would bring about world peace. Gosh.
Is that a realistic ambition for anyone? I feel quite chuffed if I manage to move even one person to tears of joy or sadness with a performance or composition, let alone usher in the Golden Age.
For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophet bards foretold,
When, with the ever circling years
Shall come the age of gold;
When Peace shall over all the earth,
Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world give back the song,
Which now the angels sing.
I seem to remember there'll be lots of harp music then by all accounts too, but hopefully not so frequent funerals.
For Brigid and also for Tom Lord, Molto, Molto Grazie.
Friday, 15 June 2012
So, we're back at Cafe Esca...
...and it's the day after the Baird book launch at the Sackville Street bookshop, Sotheran's, which was okay - in that sort of okayish way that things sometimes are. About 45 choir members, who were roughly in a 7:1 ratio of guests.
Still, it is done, and it was fun.
Bookshop had the feel of a part of the Harry Potter filmset: all Diagon Alley and gnomic shop assistants who'd been hiding behind the Architecture bookshelves since before Merlin was a lad... emerging only to read ancient texts for Indiana Jones and knight errants heading in search of grails, holy and otherwise.
Choir sang quite well I thought. Enjoyed accompanying. Nice time at pub after and then chasing the Scotsman in the car in the rain.
And now back at cafe Esca to tip tap away while Aviary awakes from her German slumbers somewhere in Nether Clapham and gives us a bell.
Enabled a my.opera.com account today (oh the irony!) Which seems happy to transfer largeish files across the e portals of the intersphere - maybe it's sumo/opera-singer sized processors can cope with my file sharing at last after the disappointing performance by AOL. One would have thought that America on line would be capable of some 'going large...'
Life gets back into the swing of the thing again after the week away from reality that was Herefordshire. My bodyclock took a bit of a blow I can tell you and the Harmer twitchiness was twitching after several days on Greek timekeeping back in London...
Esca's filling up now with mums and tiddlyum's enjoying the Friday feeling of a bit of space a the end of the week.
Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus today. Good day for a cooked breakfast perhaps...
Why do computer answers (on the question mark buttons of programmes) not provide the ability to click on what they are telling you to do??? I.E. why do we have to try and remember numerous degrees of jargon and process in order to do the operation we're looking up instead of just being able to click on the process described...? Answers on a postcard please!
There's a little toddler tucking into some bacon just behind Chloe's screen... ooh now she's enjoying a sausage... 'Is that nice?' says Mum.
Scottish accent...
I always feel a bit shy saying my name when on the phone in a public place... chap just other side of table has told me (inadvertently) that his name is Daniel. I suppose he could be on the phone to himself or no-one and all that solipsistic paranoia. I remember Jack Lewis asking in a book once how one knew there was a city called New York and how we would prove that if we hadn't definitively been there. How too I suppose can you prove the name of anything?
Guess it's that part of us that is in definition by where it touches others that becomes our name, our identity etc.
This is just musing and wonderings. Nothing much to say today.
Still, it was a good morning for a cooked brekafast! And for that....
Molto grazie!
Still, it is done, and it was fun.
Bookshop had the feel of a part of the Harry Potter filmset: all Diagon Alley and gnomic shop assistants who'd been hiding behind the Architecture bookshelves since before Merlin was a lad... emerging only to read ancient texts for Indiana Jones and knight errants heading in search of grails, holy and otherwise.
Choir sang quite well I thought. Enjoyed accompanying. Nice time at pub after and then chasing the Scotsman in the car in the rain.
And now back at cafe Esca to tip tap away while Aviary awakes from her German slumbers somewhere in Nether Clapham and gives us a bell.
Enabled a my.opera.com account today (oh the irony!) Which seems happy to transfer largeish files across the e portals of the intersphere - maybe it's sumo/opera-singer sized processors can cope with my file sharing at last after the disappointing performance by AOL. One would have thought that America on line would be capable of some 'going large...'
Life gets back into the swing of the thing again after the week away from reality that was Herefordshire. My bodyclock took a bit of a blow I can tell you and the Harmer twitchiness was twitching after several days on Greek timekeeping back in London...
Esca's filling up now with mums and tiddlyum's enjoying the Friday feeling of a bit of space a the end of the week.
Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus today. Good day for a cooked breakfast perhaps...
Why do computer answers (on the question mark buttons of programmes) not provide the ability to click on what they are telling you to do??? I.E. why do we have to try and remember numerous degrees of jargon and process in order to do the operation we're looking up instead of just being able to click on the process described...? Answers on a postcard please!
There's a little toddler tucking into some bacon just behind Chloe's screen... ooh now she's enjoying a sausage... 'Is that nice?' says Mum.
Scottish accent...
I always feel a bit shy saying my name when on the phone in a public place... chap just other side of table has told me (inadvertently) that his name is Daniel. I suppose he could be on the phone to himself or no-one and all that solipsistic paranoia. I remember Jack Lewis asking in a book once how one knew there was a city called New York and how we would prove that if we hadn't definitively been there. How too I suppose can you prove the name of anything?
Guess it's that part of us that is in definition by where it touches others that becomes our name, our identity etc.
This is just musing and wonderings. Nothing much to say today.
Still, it was a good morning for a cooked brekafast! And for that....
Molto grazie!
Friday, 8 June 2012
I'm in heaven... with Peter Skellon...
Maybe that is too grand a claim (yes it is Peter!) but the strains of that blessed Noel Cowardesque tune were wafting around in my subconscious this past 12 days or so, perhaps because Hugh-Guy Lorriman had mentioned it as being the soundtrack to a previous production that the Gatesdene Players had put on at St Richards', perhaps also because we just had such a fantastic time...
The blessed season started with the Mogendorff 19th anniversary - managed to come up with a parody of My Fair Lady... 'the best friend of course/ of Richard Mogendorff/ lives right here on the street where you live'... which seemed to go down nicely: good evening providing piano bar entertainment with Eamonn - loved the poem Marilyn (see picture). Unusual crowd and very nice with it, featuring pro(?) ukelele player and several dancers. Wonderful weather too...
Then Sunday; Literary Lunch and Musical Munch at Tarragon Persian Bar, here on Lavender Hill. 30 or so guests including Susi MacInnes's brood of four. Many thanks to those who came along and especially Barnaby, Sarah and Beverly for helping with the music side of things. Thanks too to Kami and Simin for wonderful ambience and food and service. Special thanks to Elaine for picking me up from Harper Hall at 9pm that eve and driving us to Herefordshire (plus copious amounts of equipment...)
Peter Jones and a crew of merry pranksters greeted us at St Richards' school at gone 1am ish sprawled acorss the hallway sofa and chairs... all seemed quiet and sleepy until they SPRANG into life!
A wonderful week at the school in the depths of the countryside, far, far away from Nodnol and its trifling concerns(!?) such as bank statements and bills... Aah! blissful idyll....
We managed two performances outdoors which was a great mercy as the clouds were very much looming - prayer support from Aviary amongst others - better weather in the earlier part of the week which was a blessing and a half. The school was wonderfully Victorian and gentlemanly, the views over the Malvern Hills most restful and easing to the eye after London greyness.
I could wax too lyrical and list all concerned but special thanks to Greg Lorriman and Laura Callaghan our noble quartermasters who provided top notch fare at knock down cost. Joyous times!
Then back to Nodnol (thanks again Elaine!) to a dreamy capital empty of traffic but full of rain and Reigning - then to the Barranettes Jubilee party to play the piano till about 1am. Much fun! Imo's birthday happily sung at the stroke of Midnight.
Then....
(yes there's more...)
to St James' Park on the Monday to wave a flag with the best of them.
Molto, molto grazie!
The blessed season started with the Mogendorff 19th anniversary - managed to come up with a parody of My Fair Lady... 'the best friend of course/ of Richard Mogendorff/ lives right here on the street where you live'... which seemed to go down nicely: good evening providing piano bar entertainment with Eamonn - loved the poem Marilyn (see picture). Unusual crowd and very nice with it, featuring pro(?) ukelele player and several dancers. Wonderful weather too...
Then Sunday; Literary Lunch and Musical Munch at Tarragon Persian Bar, here on Lavender Hill. 30 or so guests including Susi MacInnes's brood of four. Many thanks to those who came along and especially Barnaby, Sarah and Beverly for helping with the music side of things. Thanks too to Kami and Simin for wonderful ambience and food and service. Special thanks to Elaine for picking me up from Harper Hall at 9pm that eve and driving us to Herefordshire (plus copious amounts of equipment...)
Peter Jones and a crew of merry pranksters greeted us at St Richards' school at gone 1am ish sprawled acorss the hallway sofa and chairs... all seemed quiet and sleepy until they SPRANG into life!
A wonderful week at the school in the depths of the countryside, far, far away from Nodnol and its trifling concerns(!?) such as bank statements and bills... Aah! blissful idyll....
We managed two performances outdoors which was a great mercy as the clouds were very much looming - prayer support from Aviary amongst others - better weather in the earlier part of the week which was a blessing and a half. The school was wonderfully Victorian and gentlemanly, the views over the Malvern Hills most restful and easing to the eye after London greyness.
I could wax too lyrical and list all concerned but special thanks to Greg Lorriman and Laura Callaghan our noble quartermasters who provided top notch fare at knock down cost. Joyous times!
Then back to Nodnol (thanks again Elaine!) to a dreamy capital empty of traffic but full of rain and Reigning - then to the Barranettes Jubilee party to play the piano till about 1am. Much fun! Imo's birthday happily sung at the stroke of Midnight.
Then....
(yes there's more...)
to St James' Park on the Monday to wave a flag with the best of them.
Molto, molto grazie!
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