Most Diverting!

At music school they don't usually teach you about Haydn's divertimenti. You get to hear about the London symphonies, which occupy - for reasons I can't quite fathom - rather a lot of space in music history textbooks.

I know they're big and important*, and I do think they are fantastic pieces of music, but not as thrilling as the ones he wrote in his Sturm und Drang years. Give me 'Farewell' over 'Drum Roll' anyday.

I digress. The topic was divertimenti, which I've recently just discovered. You might think I'm merely continuing my love affair with flautist Emmanuel Pahud, who only ever seems to get more good looking, but no - I actually genuinely heart these divertimenti. Like, the most. So charming! So cheerful! Kind of like Haydn was supposed to be. (Which assumption was shattered upon hearing of Haydn and his mistress. This warrants further research. Saucy!)

*Lest A Certain Cheeky Commenter use this as an opening, I did in fact go to music school.

And now, the eight o'clock menu (reprise)

Remember when I wrote: 'Now, let me not advocate drinking, for it is a wicked, wicked habit that has landed me in bed with strangers, er, in trouble'?

(Of course you do. I know you all* hang on my every word.)

Well, Saturday night's fantastic come-as-your-favourite-superhero party** involved that Exact Same tequila concoction I mentioned. It appears everyone I know who drank it ended up with the Exact Same result. It really is some kind of magic sex potion!

*Cue hollow laughter. Nobody's gonna read this.
**Well done AML - great idea for a party. I went as The Punisher, and totally looked the part with skull T-shirt and floor-length leather trenchcoat, sunglasses and a cigarette hanging from my stubbly, manly jaw. Unfortunately, said Punisher then outed himself by appropriating someone else's magenta feather boa and bouncing around wildly to some early Madonna tunes. We'll also have to gloss over the spanking of bottoms and the loudly sybliant threats of 'I'll punish you, bay-bee!'

Not one gig, but two

Dear Technophiles

This is something musicians get paid to play at.

Yes, I know you know, but that wasn't what first popped into your head, was it? Tell the truth now.

Thank you.

Now, though I already have my first gig of the year* (in two weeks, easy stuff - a few funky Caldara and Durante arias that I can do in my sleep and some Irish-y tjoonz as background music) I have suddenly developed a second.

Unfortunately, this one doesn't pay - it's an end-of-year performance that is compulsory for me and my fellow singing pupils. Notably *not* easy stuff - two English songs**** and Martini's lovely 'Plaisir d'amour'.

Luckily I have found a fantastic accompanist, H.G. who is like a musical robot. Feed her the sheet music and she will play it perfectly, even at sight. H.G. once played 'Die Vogelfaenger' from Mozart's Die Zauberfloete for me at a concert - and did it with all the grace notes and dynamics too. And she'd never clapped eyes on it before. You have no idea how impressive it was. If I was even vaguely that way inclined, she would have gotten so lucky that night!

*Late starter, me. Though I haven't really been trying to get any. Though I should. Playing music is nice. Getting paid for playing music is really very nice**.
**I should probably say it is nice to be paid for playing pieces you know well and are good at. It is Very Not Nice Indeed to have to learn tricky Bach cantatas for a poncey chamber concert for Really Rich but Uneducated and really rather disinterested wealthy boors*** who won't be pleased no matter what you do. I'm just saying.
***No, they weren't Afrikaans, in case you though that a slip of the finger. And yes, this probably would be easier to read if I didn't footnote the footnotes. Sorry.
****Fact known possibly only to trained singers and their teachers: singing in English is really, really difficult. Disastrous diphthongs. It's really tricky to get the vowels to sound right while still using proper technique.

I'm back! Again!

Except, nobody knew.

Fact 1: I went to the bush this weekend. It was an impromptu arrangement that was much needed. Nice bush. Though it did harbour one Nasty Wasp, wot did sting me. Now I know that I am (1) not allergic to wasp stings and (2) said stings are rapid, apparently completely unprovoked, and unbelievably sore!
Fact 2: I was out of cellphone range, so nobody could call me. Thought they could send a text or leave a message.
Fact 3: Despite being out of Joburg and out of contact for two and a bit days, the only message for me, when we got back to Nylstroom*, was a work-related one.

Thus:
Incontrovertible Fact 1: someone *did* try to get hold of me, so MTN's network clearly hadn't evaporated.
Incontrovertible Fact 2: not one of my so-called friends tried to get hold of me.

Huh. Self is seriously reconsidering self's popularity.

*Little-known backwater with an OK stocked with the best flavours of Green & Black's. At the OK. In Nylstroom. I mean, even Thrupps doesn't stock G&B's. I am floored.

Oh, there's always one, isn't there?

Or two, or possibly more - though SABC news only showed two - right-of-centre responses to the civil union matter in parliament.

There was a 'this time they've gone too far'* from (no surprises) the African Christian Democratic Party and a Biblical definition that God proposed marriage 'as being between a man and a woman' from the Freedom Front+.

You'd think society was beyond this already. Oh well. Come to my wedding, everybody!


*Aimed at the government, I think, for letting al daai mowwe trou.

I hear violins

I've recently decided that I want to have a wedding. It's not that I am now grown up enough to make a childhood dream true (it was never something I thought about until my mid-20s). It's more that I have seen how much fun they can be. And, always having had theatrical tastes, there is really no better excuse for a full-throttle, no-holds-barred musical extravaganza than a wedding.

I must say, when I saw the Spectacular Spectacular in Moulin Rouge, I was (momentarily, knowing me) speechless. Now THAT is an extravaganza, I thought.

Not that I want to wear diamonds, nonono. I see myself in full morning dress in one of the wood-panelled ballrooms of an old Randlord house. I'll be there with all my lovely friends from around the world - yes, even those old friends in Pomerania who didn't stump up for a 11-hour flight for my 30th birthday party will have to come to this - while hordes of sexy violin chicks* in skimpy outfits play Vivaldi (I'm thinking Op.8 No. 8, and then a couple of double concertos). I'll have to sing**, of course, because it's my wedding and I can't resist an audience and, yes, quite possibly I am that tacky. I'll have to have Handel's Dixit Dominus for entertainment in the middle of the ceremony. Before saying 'I do' to my obviously handsome and devoted husband.

Please note, Universe: I do want a husband more than a spectacular wedding. I do. Well, slightly more. Let's not dwell on the current lack of real-life suitors, shall we?

Right, so now I can officially have a wedding. Sort of. If you look at it from a distance through squinted eyes, a civil union looks quite a bit like a marriage.

*I'm not sexist, that's the official musicological term.
**Don't get me started on ideas for arias, or the guests will never get to the reception.

So much music in the world

How is a boy (or rather, his bank balance) to cope?

1. Now, we all know about Musicnotes for pop sheet music - and even the occasional piece of baroque music that's useful for weddings*. But there's not a lot of classical sheet music available for singers there. And it's not that cheap, either. Publishers: there is a fortune of fantastic early music out there that singers would love. Get cracking. And while you're at it, please invent a modern method of binding that will allow books to stay open while you perform. The Victorians managed splendidly, so there's really no excuse.

Behold a truly fab site. Obscure Scarlatti arias? Available. Even Pergolesi arias besides 'Se tu m'ami'***, which surprised - and thrilled - even me, who is enough of a music history geek to know what's widely available and what's not. Want Schubert's 'Standchen' but can't really sing that high? No problem - you can transpose it. Now, unlike other sites where you can move up or down by an easy-to-transpose interval, Schubertline allows you transpose into whatever key you like. Whatever key you like! Sorry, that really is a very pleasing feature. Is also far cheaper to download scores from Schubertline.

Perhaps I need a disclaimer since this is starting to look like free advertising: I have no affiliation with this seemingly undiscovered site, I just wanted to share the information.

2. What am I supposed to do when I see there are more recordings of Vivaldi opera arias by Rinaldo Alessandrini and Concerto Italiano? It's only money. And look how gorgeous they make the package look!

3. Um. Likewise, I cannot ignore CDs of the luscious flautist Emmanuel Pahud playing passionate Schubert serenades. Look, it's only money. I'll make more.

The trouble with purposely having formed what I considered a comprehensive music library is that there is just so much gorgeous material out there, and more and better new recordings with more historically accurate performance (and sexy young artists). It's a never-ending project.


*Pachelbel's canon in D is available in arrangements for practically any instrument. Everybody seems to like listening to it, though since I'm not a very good flautist** I can't say I enjoy playing it.
**I never practise, and never seem to get any better at it. Curious! But until I see scientific evidence that there is an irrefutable link between 'practice' and 'perfect', I refuse to change my lazy ways.
***Yes, yes, I know it's a forgery and only attributed to Pergolesi.

I'm back...

...and this time I've brought my soapbox.

Now, to make sure I don't get fired for blogging about work things, let's just say I was at A Very Important Function last night at which A Prominent Local Comedian segued bizarrely from talking about A Certain Politician (whose name begins with a 'Z' and ends in 'uma') to making jokes about gay men really secretly fancying going to prison for all the arse-banditry that goes on there. 'It's not a punishment, it's a pleasure,' he said, thrusting out his bottom and using his queenliest voice.

Look, I know that it's funny to speak in a gay voice when you are Dave Eggers writing your Short Short Stories*. And sure, if you're a comedian, every population group should be a target. But such comedy resonates on there being a bit of undeniable truth in the fun-poking, no? Which I assume is the mechanism that makes a lot of people find this funny. I don't think every gay man actually fantasises about being buggered by a constant stream of inmates.

But the 600-strong audience roared with laughter. I thought the world was over making fag jokes, I really did.

You have to wonder what the musicians for the evening (the light classical duo Syrinx, obviously being flute/pan pipes and piano**) must have felt like, having to play for us all after that, being a pair of (incredibly handsome) Gentlemen Who Know The Words To Showtunes***. Annoyed, I bet. I was.

Oh, whatevah. At least a fellow fag flautist got a very well-paying gig.

*In which you'll find 'This Flight Attendant (Gary, Is It?) Is On Fire', and, look! - you can read it here. It's short, I promise.
**And you thought I couldn't possibly tie this topic in with music.
***Apologies to Lee Binding.