Plink, Plonk, Plunk

Introducing... The BLCMB!

2011-12-31T18:34:00.000+08:00

Yesterday I received an email from a fellow music critic, composer and blogger half the world away, introducing himself as Colin Eatock. He has compiled a huge and very extensive list of classical music blogs and websites from all around the world, and put it here. It has a rather cool name too - the Big List of Classical Music Blogs!

This list, along with Colin's own site, can be found in the blogroll on the right. Do check it out (:

Inspired..

2011-10-24T13:02:00.000+08:00

Inspiration is a funny thing. When at the piano, all I can think of is running; and when doing a long distance run, all I can think of is playing/composing music...

I read with much disappointment that the government will be gazetting Bukit Brown Cemetery to make way for urban redevelopment. When touring europe on my grad trip in July 2009, I made it a point to visit the various graveyards and cemeteries in Italy, France and Germany, as a sort-of pilgrimage to the composers whose music I've played and admired. In my search, I've been to the graves of Stravinsky in Venice, Chopin and Bizet in Paris, Vivaldi's in Vienna (which was exhumed so the tech university could be built), among a few others. It was purely sublime to walk along the cobbled paths and gaze at the weather-beaten graves. Some tombs were majestic, with angels guarding them, others looked like telephone booths, and still others were just tiny little slabs of marble on the ground. There were some which dated back to the 1800s, and some which were as recent as 2008, standing almost side-by-side in the same graveyard. Call it morbid if you would, but this sparked an interest in burial sites, and as I've discovered, each graveyard has a different story to tell.

Upon returning to Singapore, I embarked on a little project with my good friends Huazheng and Reuben, documenting the story of the Choa Chu Kang cemeteries. This humble project, by some stroke of luck I believe, made its way to be selected as the Foreign Correspondents' Association Multimedia Journalism Prize of 2010.

Since then, I've wanted to carry this further, but have not found any inspiration to do so. Until now. Perhaps it's as the saying goes, desperate times call for desperate measures, in this case desperate times calling for inspiration.

Guys, I think it's time for a sequel.

On manufacturing music..

2011-10-11T11:25:00.000+08:00

"Your soul has to want to speak and you do it when it's appropriate. If you force yourself, then you won't be successful - you're manufacturing music." - Yanni

Behold the Lamb of God - A Concert Review

2011-09-24T18:59:00.000+08:00

It was almost a full house in the auditorium of BartleyChristian Church, where many gathered to attend the annual concert of theHallelujah Oratorio Society. The house lights dimmed, the string ensemble wasready in front, the choir walked onstage, and the stage lights came on. It was Showtime.

If anything, it is the sheer dedication that the members ofthe Hallelujah Oratorio Society (HOS) show, along with their passion forserving the Lord, which touched the hearts of their audience that evening. Thefruit of their labour shows and culminates in this concert after eight to ninemonths of rehearsals. Members have given up some weekends and public holidaysto hold intensive 3-day rehearsals with conductor Lu Lee Hui, who resides in Sabahand makes trips to Singapore to train the choir. The choir is, at other times,directed by Rev Lee Chong Min, who founded and grew the for thirty-four yearsand counting. The HOS comprises of over 100 members from different churches anddifferent walks of life. The newest member has been with the HOS for less thana year, and some of the others have been in the choir since it was founded.

Titled “Behold the Lamb of God”, the concert was dividedinto seven different segments, with narration in between to set the tone foreach segment. Although the songs were taken from almost anywhere and puttogether for the concert, it was evident that this was not random, but carefulprogramming on the part of the organizers.

Opening the concert was “Sanctus”, meaning “Holy” in Latin.It was based loosely on a slow movement of Bach’s concerto for oboe BWV 1056. Itwas interesting to see how the hymn Holy,Holy Holy was juxtaposed with Bach’s theme. Following that was Lord, I lift your name on High, a verydifferent rendition from the Hillsong version that is usually sung in churches.Psalm 1 was mellower, almostpastorale-like, but transformed later on, into a grand, broad wall of soundwhen singing of the Lord’s righteousness in the later verses, “Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in thejudgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous. For the LORD knowsthe way of the righteous; but the way of the ungodly shall perish.”

The second section took a turn for the darker as itdocumented the death of Jesus, starting with The Garden of Gethsemane, describing the agonizing scene whereJesus pleads with God, “Father, take thiscup from me,” and later on, “Not mywill but yours be done,” creation heard him say / The garden of Gethsemane,where all alone Christ prayed.” This was preceded by the heartrendingrendition of Face the cross and thejubilant Resurrection Alleluias,proclaiming the resurrection of Christ.

Soprano Leona Quek, who took to the stage in a black gown,then treated the audience to two solo works. Accompanied by the pianist, sheshowcased her virtuosity by singing Mozart’s spirited Exultate Jubilate followed by the tender, passionate Via Dolorosa, describing the scene atcalvary and moving the audience to tears with her sensitivity and her delicatevoice. Later on, she reappeared on stage in a shimmering white gown, andfurther displayed her vocal prowess by singing a traditional Chinese folk song,and then the famous duet The Prayerwith a student of hers. In between her performances, the Hallelujah Singers, achamber choir made up of a few members of the main choir, sang a variety of a capella works. They were remarkablytight as an ensemble, blending well and projecting quite well in spite of theirsmall size.

The Hallelujah Singers

In fact, while taking notes during the performance, I found myself writing again and again on their faultless intonation and their perfect blending, not only for the Hallelujah Singers, but also for the HOS. The rest of the concert built up from the triumphal march Lead on, O King Eternal and culminated in the theme song Behold the Lamb of God. It then drew to a close with The Great Commission, not before they pronounced a benediction of God Watches Over You.

Pianist and pastor Chang Kok Sieng

Working tirelessly throughout the concert was pianist and pastor Chang Kok Sieng, of Changi Bethany Church. Not only did he have to learn a tremendous amount of music, he also had to grapple with the page flips and follow the conductor as he played for the choir. Adding the extra sparkle to the concert was a group of string players and a percussionist, organized by Hillary, a violinist from The Philharmonic Orchestra. She also arranged all the music for strings from the piano score, which was no easy feat. In all, with so much effort and very careful planning put into this concert, it was no wonder it turned out to be a huge success, of which no one would have expected anything less.

Evocations of Eternity in and through the World of Music (Part 2) - Arvo Pärt

2011-06-24T13:49:00.006+08:00

*Part of this article will be published in Music and Friends, a quarterly journal by the Hallelujah Oratorio Society

**Part 1 of this series was written by Benjamin Ho and published in the January edition of Music and Friends

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men..” – Ecclesiastes 3:11

Eternity, for most, is the idea of limitless existence and/or timelessness. This esoteric concept is not often thought about, and related quite closely to the topic of death. Rev Wilfred Leow of Grace Methodist Church mentioned recently in a sermon, “I think about this (death and eternity) more because as a pastor, I have attended more funerals than anyone here in the congregation has.” He also added that contemplating, meditating and preparing to preach at funerals has made the topic more real to him. Likewise, Estonian composer Arvo Pärt spent eight years in a self-imposed contemplative silence, emerging from it with a very radical transformation.

Arvo Pärt (b. 1935) started his musical education at age seven, attending the music school in Rakvere, Estonia, where his family lived. He showed tremendous musical promise, and was already writing his own compositions in his early teen years. Even though he studied composition at the Tallinn Conservatory from 1957 – 1963, he had little access to what was happening in contemporary Western music because of the regimes of the old Soviet Union. He was at the forefront of his profession, being the first Estonian to experiment with serialism techniques. Reactions to his works were extreme – some were praised, some were criticized, and some were even banned! Pärt then went into the first of a few periods of contemplative silence, choosing to research and study choral part music from the 14 – 16th centuries. Emerging from the silence with his joyous 3rd symphony in 1971, he felt that it was still not “the end of (his) despair and search.” He then entered into the abovementioned eight-year period of contemplative silence, delving into plainchant and medieval music, and finally finding his voice with an utterly new composition technique that he calls tintinnabuli . He has, without any exception, remained loyal to this new technique since 1976, when Für Alina, a piece for solo piano, quietly and thoughtfully announced the arrival of his “tintinnabuli style”.

Pärt, along with John Tavener and Henryk Gorecki, are part of a growing number of “holy minimalists”, whose philosophies and music are contrary to western classical music. Their music has been described as “music of the angels”, and many, after listening to Pärt’s Tabula Rasa or Spiegel im Spiegel, claimed to feel that they caught “a glimpse of heaven”. Unlike the usual classical music that normally strives to have direction, build-ups, climaxes and resolutions, Pärt’s music doesn’t go anywhere. It is gently repetitive, meditative, and I daresay, even hypnotic. Its main purpose is contemplation, bringing the listener into an altered state, almost the same feeling one gets when deep in prayer or perhaps meditating upon a certain verse or portion of scripture. The repetitions in the music are placid, and serene, giving the listener a sense of timelessness. “Time and timelessness are connected,” wrote Pärt. “This instant and eternity are struggling within us. And this is the cause of all our contradictions, our obstinacy, our narrow-mindedness, our faith and our grief.”

For Pärt, bell-like clarity is one of the most important qualities in composing music. The score for Für Alina is the epitome of minimalism, and also minimalism at its finest. At first glance, the score seems reminiscent of Gregorian chant notation. Barely two pages long, it has neither time signature nor note stems. Notes are black dots (like crotchet/quaver note heads) or semibreves, the former representing short notes and the latter, long. In place of a tempo marking is the direction “Ruhig, erhaben, in sich hineinhorchend”, which translates roughly into “peaceful, sublimely, introspectively”. The notes are relatively easy to read and play, but to achieve the pure and ringing sound takes much sensitivity on the pianist’s part. Both left and right hand play notes simultaneously, the right hand voice moving stepwise from and to a central pitch, first up then down, and the left hand sounding the notes of the B minor triad. The two voices are joined in the tintinnabuli principle, leaving ethereal harmonies and overtones ringing.

Pärt himself describes it as; “I have discovered that it is enough when a single note is beautifully played. This one note, or a silent beat, or a moment of silence, comforts me. I work with very few elements - with one voice, two voices. I build with primitive materials - with the triad, with one specific tonality. The three notes of a triad are like bells and that is why I call it tintinnabulation."

The beauty of Pärt’s music is that one does not have to understand classical music to enjoy it; in fact, if one listens through the filter of Western musical values, they might find it lacking in expression and stark. However, if doing nothing for a whole day or praying in receptive silence for about an hour sounds like something you would do, then you’ll be probably be one of the many who weep inexplicably to Pärt’s music, whose poignant beauty in simplicity can unearth the reservoir of joy and sorrow in the hardest of hearts.

Silenced!

2011-06-17T00:11:00.002+08:00

I lost my voice over the weekend, and what an experience it was. I had been having a sore throat since monday, was hoarse on friday, and by saturday morning, my voice just disappeared. I couldn't talk, not even in a whisper.

Saturday was the long-awaited YA Cookout, and I was due to be Confirmed at church on sunday. How was I supposed to answer the questions by Pastor without a voice?

I learnt that just because one can't speak,

1) people assume that they're not listening because they don't hear a response. They therefore nag and repeat their points over and over again.

2)your opinion is not valued, since you can't talk back anyway

3)you get blamed instead of questioned, since you still can't talk back.

How frustrating.

Coincidentally, I'm working on an article for the HOS, and writing about Estonian composer Arvo Part. Here's what's amazing - he spent eight years (!!!) of his life in contemplative silence before finally finding his composition voice. As I was thinking, praying and contemplating about how I should write this article, I sensed the Lord telling me, "Be still, my child, be still. Let others say what they want."

“In silence is embedded the marvelous power of clarification, purification and concentration on essentials.” – Dietrich Bonhöffer

Maybe it's not such a coincidence that I lost my voice after all.

Meaningful conversations (I) - What's in a name?

2011-06-06T21:30:00.000+08:00

It was one of the usual enjoyable coffee-dinner sessions I was having with my favourite ex-lecturer. We were sitting opposite each other in a cafe when she looked at me in all seriousness and said, "Natalie, you do realize that someday you will have to stop calling me Dr. K and start calling me by my name?" After some moments, she added, "After all, we're friends.... right?", giving me one of those looks of which to say that I'd better agree otherwise.. Uhh.. yeah, i guess.. I left that comment hanging and didn't elaborate further. Indeed, we're friends, but.. You're so much more than that.

On marriage

"So when are you tying the knot?" she remarked, after we chatted about some of my ex-classmates who have gotten married. Darn, she caught me off-guard again! I looked at her and said, "Not anytime soon. If he loves me, he'll wait.."

On drinking

I was surprised to learn that she did enjoy a glass of wine once in a while. Nice! I didn't dare to mention that I was allergic to alcohol not in the way that children are allergic to vegetables..

On writing

"You know, C did quite well for her research paper on MT. But yours was much better," she declared with a hint of pride. "I think you can do it", she replied when I asked her if I should pursue a postgraduate degree. Can I really? She introduced me to the research of Adrian Chandler in the area of Vivaldi's Violin concerti and asked if I was interested to consider doing something like that. After a prolonged period of silence, she declared with more conviction, "yes, you can probably do it", as if confirming her earlier statement after giving it further thought.

To end the enchanting evening, we took a short walk together, then she insisted that she walk me to the bus stop, "It's my territory, after all", and I relented. On parting, she gave me a hug and watched as I boarded the bus. A warm, fuzzy, cuddly, sisterly hug. At that instant, for the first time in months, I felt as though everything was going to work out alright.

Thank you, for your love, encouragement and for believing in me, even when I don't believe in myself. I'm truly blessed to have a friend like you. (:

2011-05-22T17:04:00.001+08:00

'You're talking about manipulating feelings and emotions. Would it not be easier to convince people with a rational, simple and straightforward account?'
'No. It's impossible to initiate a rational dialogue with someone about beliefs and concepts if he has not acquired them through reason. It doesn't matter whether we're looking at God, race, or national pride. That's why I need something more powerful than a simple rhetorical exposition. I need the strength of art, of stagecraft. We think that we understand a song's lyrics, buy what makes us believe in them, or not, is the music.'
- Carlos Ruiz Zafón, from The Angel's Game

Trying to Tri..

2011-05-04T10:37:00.009+08:00

It was about this time last year during a conversation that Ansley casually mentioned, "Maybe you should think about doing triathlons.." and what a far-fetched idea it seemed. I had, at that time, just purchased my road bike. My idea of a run was not more than the 2.4km we used to do at school, and I would lounge around after every two laps of swimming. Needless to say, something needed to be done about my fitness level first.

At the recommendation of the above mentioned friend, I joined Yellowfish Swim, not knowing what to expect. Nothing could have prepared me for what happened during the first session. It was countless drills and set after set of laps, and by the end of the first class I wondered what I had gotten myself into. I had already paid for three months of class, so there was no turning back. Come tuesday evening, my heart rate would go up, and there would be butterflies in my tummy. After 8.45pm on tuesdays, the world would be a better place. Post-swim supper at Old Airport Road was a good way to unwind. There's always something about "suffering" together that brings people closer (:

With the motivation of new friends, I had started running more and longer distances too. I signed up for the Yellow Ribbon run, and went on to complete the StanChart 10k as well. However, there was one fear I still needed to conquer - the dreaded sea swim. I was swimming fine at the pool sessions, but I had this phobia of entering the sea. Maybe it is the cool of the morning, or the colder temperature of the water, or the fact that the sea was very salty and had no boundaries, I would get a panic attack every time I entered the water. After three sessions, I still had not conquered my fear of the sea. I was labelled as one of coach's "elites", swimming small little triangles in the sea when everyone else was doing big loops. Then suddenly everything clicked into place, and I was swimming fine, and felt as if I could go on forever. Strange, but I'm thankful to God for it.

And there I was, swimming, cycling, and running. On separate occasions. I realized I had to do some back-to-back sessions (later I learnt that that was called brick, although I still have no idea why). Running after swimming was fine, but running after cycling was not. My legs would get all jelly-like and have a mind of their own.

Andy and Pat mentioned that Tribob was one of the most well-organized races for newbies, and encouraged me to take part. I signed up for the sprint distance, and before I knew it, it was a few days to race day. Messaging JacQ the night before made me less jittery. The advice she gave somehow seemed very logical and had a calming effect (: The next morning I woke the parents up at 6am, and they very willingly sent me to Changi. Having them there really made a difference, even though the three of us were clueless as to what to do or where to go.

As I made my way to warm up and get body-marked I saw a few familiar faces. While lining up for start of my wave I met Zaheera, whom I was blabbering to in my state of nervousness. She looked so calm and composed, and that made me feel even more scared =P The sea was calm and quite ideal for swimming at the start. About a hundred meters into the sea, I was kicked by a breast-stroker in the chest. I panicked, and frantically swam away from that person. The water began to get a bit choppy, making it quite difficult to swim at first. Someone I knew actually got stung by jellyfish, thank God I didn't experience anything of that sort. The swim leg didn't go too bad, and left me feeling that I could actually complete the race.

looking half-dead during the bike leg

The bike leg was the hardest. I was pedalling furiously, and there were all the guys from later waves overtaking me effortlessly. Jane zoomed past me, waving and calling out to me. Coach too, but instead of waving he shouted "Nat, down your gear!". Pfft. Get disturbed by him even during race. I thought higher cadence was the way to go?

It began to get rainy during the run, and I was desperately looking for a toilet. I finally found one near the ferry terminal, but going to the toilet made my timing a bit slower.. The run was surprisingly shorter than I expected. I could feel a cramp coming on, so I slowed down my pace a little. Before I knew it, I was heading towards the finisher's chute!

I was overtaken by a guy wearing a bikini-like trisuit (!!!!) at the last second who dashed in front of me and promptly proceeded to stop right after the line, blocking the way. Such an eyesore ):

After close to a year of preparation and training, I finally completed my first sprint triathlon. And I'm hooked. Thanks Alex, Ansley, Joni and little Shannen for being there to cheer us on, Varian, Chris, GY, Jacq, David and Nigel for your support, advice, and durian party!=D, and all thanks to God for bringing me safely through the race. Like Varian said, it's time to train longer distances (:

A Tale of Two Mahlers..

2010-12-14T12:28:00.005+08:00

The long awaited week was finally here, with masterclasses, a concert, and a solo performance by musicians from “one of the world’s best orchestras”. After about eleven days and many sell-out concerts in Abu Dhabi, Perth and Sydney, the Berliner Philharmoniker arrived in Singapore for their last two concerts of their longest-ever tour. Led by Chief Conductor Sir Simon Rattle, the orchestra presented a programme of Rachmaninoff’s Symphonic dances and Mahler’s First Symphony for their last concert here.

Perhaps it was a stroke of fate, or intentional planning, but what was SSO thinking when they programmed a Mahler symphony three days after Berliner Philharmoniker played one? This was definitely an invitation for comparison!

The reason for the many number of Mahler works played in the 2010/11 concert season is to mark his 150^th birthday in 2010 and 100^th anniversary of his death in 2011.

The Singapore Symphony Orchestra, playing under the baton of Finnish conductor Osmo Vänskä, took on Mahler’s seventh symphony. Donald Mitchell, in his extensive writings on Mahler, describes it as Mahler’s “problem child”. The dissonances, obscurity and “un-Mahlerian-ness” has been met with skepticism, criticism and hostility. Yet this symphony remains an enigma, and interpretation is left to the conductor and performers. The tenor horn solo in the first movement was bold and brash, setting the tone for what was to come. There was a hint of complacency in the orchestra’s playing, which, although energetic, got irritating a little later because of the “devil-may-care” attitude. Vänskä’s strokes were sometimes plain weird, and he was swaying on the podium, swinging his arms both to the left, then to the right. There were so many climaxes in the music that almost left one feeling seasick. In the midst of the grotesque third movement, the feeling of “are we there yet?” kept coming. The orchestra was messy most of the time, but their saving grace was the slower movements, the two “night songs”, where there was some beautiful chamber playing going on between the woodwinds, the guitar and the mandolin.

On the contrary, the Berliner Philharmoniker’s performance was polished and refined. Rattle’s every stroke had a meaning to it, and none of it was superfluous. He took on the Titan at a moderate speed, not going too fast like some other orchestras would. Rattle picked the high points in the music very selectively and meticulously worked the orchestra up, adding in layer by layer, into a big crescendo. It wasn’t difficult to see why they market themselves as “many soloists, one orchestra”. Such was their control and projection, that when the brasses were blasting the opening of the fourth movement, the strings soaring high above could still be heard. From the morose solo double bass solo opening of the third movement to the tender, heartfelt and lyrical fourth movement, the Berliner Philharmoniker shone in every way.

Local music reviewer Dr Chang Tou Liang describes the two orchestras as David vs. Goliath. Maybe he wasn’t wrong. Or just maybe, if SSO had played under a conductor they were more familiar with, they could have done much, much better.

---

On a much lighter note, LY and I were waiting for Dominik (the Berlin Phil cor anglais player) at Mandarin Oriental after the concert when we saw none other than Sir Simon Rattle! I was starstruck for a moment, and after my brain started functioning, I walked up to him, congratulated him on the successful concert, and asked for a picture. He willingly obliged (:

Birthday Blues

2010-12-03T19:45:00.003+08:00

And so, I turn twenty-something in a few hours.

What's the big deal about birthdays anyway? One year older, a few more wrinkles, and a year closer to death. Maybe people celebrate for you because you're one year older and closer to their age. Or maybe they celebrate because you turn older than all of them.

Maybe they just want a treat from you. It's a funny tradition in my family, that when it's your birthday, you're supposed to give the family a treat. And not just immediate family, but aunts, uncles and grandmas too! That means at least 12 people, or at least $200 spent on a meal to "celebrate". Oh, and I have to find a date when everyone is free, SMS to invite them, and book the location. Too much work! Of course they give presents. Most of the time I get something I can use. And every year, some aunt will give something totally useless and worthless, like a display ornament or paperweight. It's the type of thing that I cannot throw away because I feel guilty, I can't give it to the poor because there's no use for it, and so I end up displaying it somewhere, hoping that it will "accidentally" get knocked down, or broken, or chewed up by my dog.

Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for my 2X years of life, and to God for seeing me through it. But I still can't help feeling a little blue. I've got on 5th December

-a performance (which means practice, practice, practice)
-a race (drat, I havent trained for 2 weeks!)
-an article due for publication (still incomplete)

So that means work and practice and no partying. I'm teaching tomorrow as well ):

Anyway, it might seem shameless to put a wishlist here, but a few people have asked what I wanted for my birthday, so the idea of creating this came to mind. Here goes:

- a tri-suit (for my first triathlon in may!)
- a polar watch (got it, thanks daddy)
- a Starbucks tumbler (thanks Sally!)
- Eddie Higgins CDs (I don't have any, so any one would do. Let me know if you're buying it and which one)

and

-a constant supply of good reeds!
- for friends and family to be healthy
- a scholarship to study early (17th century and before) music

Anyone has suggestions on where I can take my family out for dinner?

It's Patches' 4th birthday on 6 dec. Maybe I'll take him to a dog cafe for lunch. Or bake him a cake. Or something. I wonder if he even knows it's his birthday (;

2010-11-23T20:02:00.003+08:00

The gathering with the oboe gang was much-needed. Surprisingly, there wasn't as much reed talk and more variety in pieces played. Schumann was a hot piece this year (or maybe it was just herd instinct) and we took turns playing accompaniment. Veda brought her baroque oboe and taught me to play a scale. Air pressure from the reed is much less than on a modern oboe reed, making it more comfortable to play. However, the lack of keys make fingerings quite awkward.

On a side note,

Anyone up for it? 21km next June (:

fire, fiery, fired, fried!

2010-11-10T10:32:00.002+08:00

"For goodness sake, please update your blog! You have a Wikio rating to keep, you know!"

- a not-so-ardent fan of PlinkPlonkPlunk =P

Last night's concert with The Philharmonic Orchestra playing Stravinsky's Firebird in celebration of the 100th year anniversary of the work was exhilarating, energetic and very inspiring. From the stomping, driving Infernal Dance to the stately and sweet Rondo of the princesses, it was nothing but orchestral brilliance.

The evening ended off with a fiery spicy dinner at thai express (:

Longer review to come, watch this space!

For now, here's Disney's version of the Firebird from Fantasia 2000. Enjoy!

Elijah - A Review

2010-09-04T18:38:00.005+08:00

“You can’t play Rachmaninoff on a harpsichord,” said a cellist-composer friend of mine, explaining why modern instruments are here to stay (and will be a permanent problem for historically-informed enthusiast). True, but Mendelssohn had his own way of doing combining the old and the new. He wrote Elijah, an oratorio, modeled after Baroque predecessors Handel and Bach, but weaved in the lyricism and orchestration characteristic of the romantic period.

Albeit the length of the entire work (two-and-a-half hours, excluding the intermission!), it was a well-paced and energetic performance organized by the Halleleujah Oratorio Society, in celebration of Rev Lee Chong Min’s 30 years of choral artistry. Contributing also to the success of the evening were four international soloists and the support from The Philharmonic Orchestra.

After a menacing prophecy by Elijah, the orchestra began the overture with as much intimidation, and a sense of imminent danger. However, they were almost completely drowned out when the choir entered with a thunderous roar of “Help, Lord! Wilt thou quite destroy us?” This choir was really loud!

Although comprising mostly of amateur singers individually, as a whole, the 240-strong choir was formidable. The man to credit for such a high standard of choral performance is Rev. Lee, who founded and trained most of the 7 choirs, some of which are based overseas.

Their diction was impeccable. Energetic and versatile, they could enunciate the fast “Will then the Lord, be no more, God in Zion” without getting tongue-tied. Not only was their diction commendable, their intonation was also pleasing. “For He shall give his angels charge” was so harmoniously pleasant, one could almost imagine the heavenly hosts singing together.

Soprano Cecilia Yap was off to a shaky start, but soon got in control, singing with abundant strength and bell-like clarity. “Hear ye, Israel” was achingly sweet, delivering a powerful, pleading performance with just the right amount of vibrato. Her duet with mezzo-soprano Carol Lin “Lord, bow thine ear” touched hearts as Lin’s mellow voice complemented Yap’s bright tone. Lin proved to be an intelligent performer, portraying the two different characters (Jezebel and the Angel) by varying her sweet tone and with theatrical flair.

Carol Lin in one of her sweeter moments

Tenor Solomon Chong was a let-down. He clearly had no projection power, and looked to be struggling with the higher notes and long phrases. He missed his chance to shine in “Then, then shall the righteous shine forth”, setting his own tempo rather than following the tempo that was set by the conductor. He stubbornly carried on at his chosen tempo, leaving the conductor and orchestra in a state of disarray as they tried to follow him. Such was his intonation, that made an otherwise beautiful quartet “O come ev’ry one that thirsteth” a displeasure to listen to.

Humphreys as a menacing Elijah

Baritone George Humphreys was undeniably the star of the evening. His projection and ability to hold long phrases was impressive. He portrayed the different emotions of Elijah very well with his facial expressions complementing his tone of voice, from the menacing warnings and mockery of the prophets of Baal to the tenderness when pleading and praying with God. His rendition of “It is enough” was a moment of striking intimacy, beautifully embroidered with obbligato parts from principal cellist Lin Juan. Other notable contributions from the orchestra include the unity of the brass section and the sensitive and shapely playing of timpanist Yeow Ching Shiong.

With the accompaniment by a fine orchestra, Rev. Lee managed the massive forces well to result in a moving and powerful performance of the colossal work.

A curious observation..

2010-09-03T11:40:00.001+08:00

See, how he sleepeth beneath my piano chair, even as I practice Beethoven's tumultuous Tempest sonata..

It's funny how my dogs always go near the piano when I start playing. They can be upstairs or outside, but upon hearing the piano, they just draw near to it and proceed to fall asleep. This doesn't happen when I switch on the radio, or play the violin, cello or oboe though..

Chamber Music Festival (Day 2) - A Review

2010-04-22T11:43:00.007+08:00

"So what are you here for?", my favourite lecturer asked me as I occupied the seat next to her at the Lee Foundation Theatre in NAFA on Tuesday, 21st April.

"Why, the very same reason as you!", was my reply.

The only thing that drew me to the concert was

Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741)

Double Mandolin Concerto, for 2 mandolins, strings & continuo in G major, RV 532,

of which I had to sit through a whole chamber-music concert of Haydn, Brahms, and Dvorak before they finally got to the Vivaldi.

---

Opening the concert was the lively first movement of Haydn's String Quartet in D, Op 20 no. 4. Consisting of second- and third-years, the quartet worked well together to create the humourous contrasts so typical of the grammar and syntex of Papa Haydn. However, some parts of it sounded too "gummy" and "sticky", with many of the notes held too long and heavy for my liking.

Following that was the dark and tumultous opening Allegro of Brahms' Clarinet Trio in A minor, Op. 11. Like most of Brahm's pieces, the piano part was chordal and probably had twice as many notes as that of the cello and clarinet score put together! It was therefore expected when the piano drowned the other two instruments when the trio played together. Fourth-year pianist Sun Miao later managed to tame the raging piano to let the cello and clarinet through. It was only then, that the beauty of Brahm's orchestration contrasts began to show - the low rumbling of the piano against the singing sonorities of the cello and the youthfulness of the clarinet. Evident in the music was such marvellous individual playing from the three students, as well as some of the happiest integration of their skills, resulting in a poignant performance.

The Dvorak piano quintet was, really, more of a string quartet and a pianist at most parts and only a quintet in a few places. The fast and loud sections were treated as a competition of who could play the fastest and the loudest, without much regard for balance or togetherness. The piano part proved too difficult for first year student Berenice, who was obviously trying hard to play all the notes AND keep together with the rest of the quintet. There were fleeting moments of tenderness, but most of it was expressive lyricism turned into raging passion, which ended the movement with exuberance.

The first and last movement of The Seven Last Words of Christ, op. 51, originally for string quartet, was played by an amplified string quartet of 15 violins, 5 violas 1 cello, and 1 double bass. As seen from the orchestration, this made it rather top-heavy. For once, however, the violas could be heard! Due to a shortage of cellists in the Academy, the only second-year cello major Lee Min Jin worked through the entire concert tirelessly without rest.

And finally, it was on to the Vivaldi. Because of a scarcity of Mandolins in Singapore, the Ruan (a chinese mandolin) was used instead. This featured twins Clara and Sophy, both multiple diploma-holders for various chinese instruments on Gaoyin Zhongruans. Such an excellent performance it was, that one could almost imagine being transported back to the 1600s and watching the performance in a more intimate court/chamber setting.

The second movement was an extremely beautiful adagio, pure and innocent in its nature and simple. The twins played with much sensitivity, always listening out for each other's lines and leading when their part called for it. The third movement was fast as usual, and although the twins were rushing, they rushed together, leaving the conductor and orchestra trying hard (and finally succeeding) to keep up with them.

Thus ended the 2-day chamber music festival at NAFA. Although the theatre was only 20% filled, it was nevertheless a good performance. Well done, all! (:

The Wonderful, Whimsical World of Wonderland... - An Advertisment

2010-02-26T11:01:00.003+08:00

“I wish you wouldn’t keep appearing and vanishing so suddenly: you make one quite giddy.”

“All right,” said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite slowy, beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone.

“Well! I’ve often seen a cat without a grin,” thought Alice; “but a grin without a cat! It’s the most curious thing I ever saw in all my life!”

- (Lewis Carroll, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, 58)

I've watched the original 1951 Disney cartoon over and over, and it never failed to tickle the senses with the delightful tunes, singing flowers, and the nonsensical situations that Alice was put into. I remember the white rabbit who was always running late, the mushroom pieces with the words "Eat Me" on them, the caterpillar who smoked, the Mad Hatter's tea parties, the card soldiers chasing Alice, and my favourite of all, the ever-grinning Cheshire Cat.

This intellegent little puss is always up to mischief, and you never know whether to trust him or not because he sometimes helps Alice, but at other times gets her into a whole lot of trouble!

Conversations with it were entertaining to read, because it seemed as though it was always trying to be funny.

`Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?'

`That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat.

`I don't much care where--' said Alice.

`Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat.

`--so long as I get SOMEWHERE,' Alice added as an explanation.

`Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, `if you only walk long enough.'"

- (Lewis Carroll, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, 58-59)

Sounds kind of like some students of mine.

I'm sure it'll be interesting to have a cat like that. For one, its purple and pink (at least in the Disney 1951 movie). My favourite colours! Secondly, it'll drive Freckles crazy. Imagine chasing a cat which grins at you and then suddenly disappears, leaving only the grin! Thirdly, I'll bet it doesn't shed fur!

Tim Burton collaborates with Disney to create the weird, whimsical world of Wonderland, where everything is surreal and every character, mad. With a stellar cast (Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter, Anne Hathaway as the White Queen, and Stephen Fry (who won awards for his voice on the Harry Potter audiobook series) as the voice of the Cheshire cat) and music by Danny Elfman, Burton's friend and soundtrack composer for most of Burton's films, this film promises to be an adventure not to be missed!

Catch Alice in Wonderland Movie starting from 4th March 2010 and join the official Facebook and Twitter page!

Randoms

2010-02-17T23:54:00.004+08:00

Sometimes I just wish I could do this. Don't you all?

Decisions, decisions.

Music Therapy or Music History?

UK or USA?

Cello or Voice?

Oboe major or Piano major?

LTCL or LRSM?

Wisdom teeth AND braces. Boo.

Not many interesting concerts to attend and review lately. Awaiting the Argentine Tango Orchestra concert at the Esplanade Concert Hall on 14th March. Should be interesting (:

Anyway, this is Plink Plonk Plunk's 100th post. (: Thanks for all your support, wherever you all are!

DisconTENt - a review

2010-02-10T10:42:00.001+08:00

A friend of mine once said, "The thing about these amateur same-instrument ensembles, especially guitar ensembles, is this - you can immediately pick out the few good players. Then all the others are simply there to fill the space." And so I attended this concert, wanting to test the credibility of his statement.

disconTENt by Guitarissimo
Thursday, 4th February
SMU Arts and Cultural Centre. 2000Hrs.

DisconTENt was held as part of the ongoing SMU arts festival. This year marked the 10th anniversary of SMU, and the Arts Fest promised to be bigger and better than previous years'.

The programme lineup included popular pieces from the Western classical music repertory, Japanese Anime, movies and video games. Opening the concert was a solo piece One Summer's Day by Joe Hisaishi, a notable Japanese composer. This was a case of an extremely poignant piece being only mediocre because the performer was nervous. She could have taken much more time to rubato and express the music. After her performance, the emcee announced that the young lady was "one of the more talented ones" in Guitarissimo. Oh dear, I thought, and contemplated leaving. Is this the best they could do?

Next was an easy duet arrangement of Beethoven's Ode to Joy. However, performing this only four months after learning the guitar from scratch, the duo did quite an impressive job of starting, ending, and keeping together throughout the piece, all the while listening to each other.

Canon in D was an extremely brave attempt at the rendition of a piece originally meant for three violins and a bass. The guitar quartet, if I may borrow a phrase from a dear friend, messed it up nicely. There were occasions where a guitarist got lost, only to find his/her way back into the music a few bars later. I guess that's one of the advantages of playing a Canon, you just jump back in at the start of the bass motif and whatever you play will fit in. Many of the stray notes had made me wonder if they had transposed it without my noticing. Since when were there F-naturals or G-sharps in the music anyway?

Für Elise (mispronounced by the emcee and probably every other non-German speaker) was tastefully arranged, but alas, it was only the first half of the piece. Such a pity though, as it would have been interesting to see how the arpeggios and chords of the second half would be like. After all, the continual ostinato and the a minor arpeggios would have worked quite well on the guitar.

Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence was somewhat like Ravel's Bolero, in the sense that the underlying chord progression repeated itself over and over, adding layers of sound or altering the tone each time. Despite hobbling onto stage with crutches, music director Antoni Lewa showed no sign of his injury when he was playing. He had such commanding stage presence, coupled with his beautiful tone, that the captured the ears and hearts of the entire audience. He breezed through the piece (with all the brilliant pyrotechnics of fingerpicking, harmonics and various strumming methods) visably nervous but not shaken. In fact, it was as though the nervousness gave his performance a certain edge, like an adrenaline rush, which made it all the more appealing.

Having already heard the best, the rest of the concert plodded along slowly and monotonously. Grieg's Anitra's Dance had a few harmonic errors, more lost musicians, and even more stray notes. He's a Pirate! from Pirates of the Carribean was a disappointment. Due to the large ensemble and the docility of their plucking, it sounded much more of a leisurely waltz than an action-packed piece. Each of them could do with some rum or whiskey!

The concert came to a close with a duo playing two plesant little pieces. Although their performance was good, I couldn't help but leave the auditorium after with a sense of disconTENtment - a restless longing for better music, and perhaps fried chicken (:

On Photographs, Photographers and Photography.

2010-01-20T23:09:00.006+08:00

"Since meeting her, my own thinking about poetry has changed. Her photographs -how can I put it? - strip poetry bare. I mean, here we are, choosing our words, braiding strands to cut a figure. But with her photos it's immediate, the embodiment. Out of thin air, out of light, in the gap between movements, she grabs things just like that. She gives physical presence to the depths of the human psyche. Do you know what I mean?"

- Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance

Some of you might have noticed the recent addition of the Photographers & Photography section in the column on the right. Why photography? Because, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.

A photographer. A person who takes photographs using a camera. A species of artists.

I have, in recent years, the opportunity to be acquainted with several photographers and be drawn into the sublime art. I have been photographed in a studio with my family upon graduation, been a subject of an indoor photoshoot (thanks, HZ!!), travelled Europe with a photographer, tagged along to the cemetery with two photographers on their personal project (of course, slowing them down and asking them tons of questions), and composed music for a series of photographs.

Before this, I always thought that photographers had it easy. Press the shutter a couple of times and get paid big bucks for it. Now I know otherwise. They, like all other struggling artists, also suffer for the sake of their art. They walk long distances, carrying their (extremely heavy!!) equipment of lenses, camera(s) and a tripod, in search of the place and the frame for that photograph. They wait minutes, no, hours under the scorching sun for the correct lighting conditions. They brave storms and rain to get beautiful photographs.

And then they press the shutter.

All that walking, waiting, for that one second. To capture that elusive one moment in time. The frame, the gap in between movements, that presence. Kind of like us musicians. All those years of practicing for that one moment on stage or in the audition room. If you play a wrong note, you're done for. If you miss the moment, it's gone.

Somehow photographers always manage to bring out the interesting from the mundane. Its like a certain skill they possess, to see and capture everyday objects from a different angle, making it look totally different. Transformed.

However, as much as I am interested in photography, I don't think I would ever get my own SLR or learn the tricks of the trade. At least not when I'm surrounded by so many of them. I'll stick to my trusty digital camera and take photographs my way. Getting myself into photography is just opening a can of worms. Writer Murakami tells it as it is:

"Youwereplayingguitar," said the Sheep Man with interest. "Welikemusictoo. Can'tplayaninstrumentthough."
"Neither can I. Haven't played in close to ten years."
"That'sokayawplaysomethingforme."
I didn't want to dampen the Sheep Man's spirits, so I played through the melody of Airmail Special, tacked on one chorus and an ad lib, then lost count of the bars and threw in the towel.
"You'regood," said the Sheep Man in all seriousness.
"Probablyloadsoffuntoplayaninstrumenteh?"
"If you're good. But if you want to get good, you have to train your ears. And when you've trained your ears, you get depressed at your own playing."

-Haruki Murakami, A Wild Sheep Chase

I should just stick to playing my music. Perhaps a bit of composition for photographs as well. That way I can dabble in the art without getting my hands too dirty (;

A little spring cleaning..

2010-01-12T16:53:00.003+08:00

FASHIONABLYYYY LAAATTEEEEE! Pardon my tardiness, but this was certainly unintended. The last week of 2009 and the first of 2010 saw me busy co-working on a project for a competition, of which was due on the 8th of January. The final product would not be uploaded online unless we win the competiton, but do drop me an email if you'd like to view it (:

Looking back at 2009, I marvel at the Lord's grace and providence. He had brought through everything that came flying my way, and somehow I got out of it unscathed. In 2009, I

1.Bought Murray the Marigaux
2. Wrote my first 6000-word research paper
3. Did a 45-minute solo oboe recital
4. Got my driving license (!!!!)
5. Graduated with a second upper honours degree
6. Went to Germany, France, Italy and Austria for the first time
7. Visited the graves of Bach in Leipzig, Bizet and Chopin in Paris, and Stravinsky in Venice.
8. Walked the streets that Vivaldi walked, visited the place that used to be his house, and the place he used to be buried
9. Played a baroque oboe
10. Volunteered voluntarily at a hospice for the first time

That's quite a lot of things to be thankful for!

I can't believe almost half of January's gone. 2010 will indeed be an eventful year. Here are some of the more important events:

1. Removal of all four (!!!) wisdom teeth, and three others to put in braces
2. LTCL Piano diploma exam
3. Planning, writing about and performing in a Baroque concert which will take place next year
4. Re-learning the oboe after putting on braces, or learning the recorder for the period of time that I cannot play the oboe
5. Learning and recording a neo-Baroque recorder sonata by Michael Talbot

Sounds daunting, doesn't it?

Knowing I have the support from loved ones, friends, readers worldwide and a dear lecturer,
I have the confidence to fight the good fight, and finish the race.

Bring it on, 2010!

After all, "The LORD is with me; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?" -Psalm 118:6

the best present of all...

2009-12-24T00:43:00.004+08:00

A few friends had asked how I wanted to celebrate my birthday this year and what I wanted as a present. Having spent my twentyfirst birthday in the faraway land of Wales with only a couple of new found friends and housemates, I toyed with the idea of having a celebration, inviting friends and family. However, seeing that most of my close friends were overseas, I scrapped the idea.

I'm truly blessed to be born into a relatively well-off family, having my needs and (some) wants fulfilled. Therefore, I told myself that as a birthday present this year, I wanted to give back to others as I have freely received. Being a music student, what else could I do but share the joy of music with others? With Christmas around the corner as well, the idea of playing for hospices came to mind. Through this, a more regular platform for volunteering could be set up.

And then the perfect partner-in-crime came along. He could play the violin and piano, was interested in volunteering, and had the same initials as me (: Thus, JR² was born! Emails were sent out to hospices, and by the grace of God, we had three different places to play in on three different days. Selecting the repertoire proved to be a little bumpy, but we had that solved too. The only problem was that of the lack of time for rehearsal. We were both busy in our own ways, and could only rehearse on the day of the first gig! We somehow got through that.

The number of audience seemed to grow in the three days we played. On the first day we played in a corridor to a transient audience of nurses serving dinner and warded patients. On the second, we were "upgraded" to a living-room-style day care centre. The keyboard had no pedal (panic!!) and scores were flying all over the place. However, damage control was pretty good and all was at peace (: Today was the best, we played in a chapel filled with people in wheel-chairs! We even had to play some songs without scores or sight-read because of requests from the patients!

An 83-year-old lady happily sung along to our songs. Another lady (in a dialect that I could barely understand or decipher), wished us well. Many others clapped along. The best part about all this? Seeing the gratitude and the pure joy on the faces of the nurses and the patients we played for. Such a memorable experience, such a priceless birthday wish fulfilled!

Today is Christmas eve. Christmas, when God sent his son to live on this world with us, and to die for our sins some thirty years later. His love, the best present of all. Why not share a little love this Christmas to someone in need?

Sonetto 104 del Petrarca - Franz Liszt

2009-12-04T16:56:00.006+08:00

November brings with her many changes. The warmth of the sunshine has faded, leaving behind the rain. Sunny skies turn to grey. All around the drip drip drips of the rain falling outside envelops our house in gloom. And it’s not just the weather, it’s something else. Something’s changed, and the air of repressive silence hangs over our place. The neighbours keep to themselves, the birds hide away in their nests, and even the stray cats in the area have gone into their hiding.

November, a time of loss. Of dear ones departing this world and passing on, leaving behind a trail of grief and unanswered questions. Five years ago it was a close friend, and just when I thought I was beginning to let go and live, my dear Pepper passed away. Most might think, “ah, he’s just a dog”, but Pepper was always there for me in the 9 years of his life, knowing me more than anyone else. He always seemed to understand what I was telling him, and he would always respond in the way that would cheer me up.

It is just so odd when someone close to you goes. Whether you stay at home and cry all day, run around town, wander aimlessly or even go back to practicing, you never feel like you are doing the right thing. Death is just plain weird. You can sit around and in your head imagine a world where a loved one doesn’t exist, but it doesn’t really hurt. It never does, until the reality of it is witnessed, and others around you confirm your worst fears. And then it sinks in. The pain that follows is odd, too. It hurts so badly to have lost that special someone, but at the same time, I held on to the pain not wanting it to end because I felt like it was all I had left.

Two years back I blogged about Liszt’s Liebestraume nr 3 and how it brought up many memories. I find that there is always something about Liszt and his music, that sneaks into my repertoire and leaves an extremely lasting and, i daresay, haunting impression on me. Just like the Liebestraume nr. 3, I associate this Sonnet with grief and loss, and the feeling of having loved and lost.

The text in Petrach’s Sonnet nr. 104 “Pace non trovo, e non ho da far guerra“ describes a soul whose state of mind is in simultaneous extremes “I fear, I hope, I burn, I freeze again; I fly to heaven, and lay on the ground, possess the whole world, yet hold nothing”.

WARFARE I cannot wage, yet know not peace;
I fear, I hope, I burn, I freeze again;
Mount to the skies, then bow to earth my face;
Grasp the whole world, yet nothing can obtain.
Pris'ner of one who deigns not to detain,
I am not made his own, nor giv'n release.
Love slays me not, nor yet will he unchain;
Nor life allot, nor stop my harm's increase.

Sightless I see my fair; though mute, I mourn;
I scorn existence, yet I court its stay;
Detest myself, and for another burn;
By grief I'm nurtured; and, though tearful, gay;
Death I despise, and life alike I hate:
Such, lady, do you make my wretched state!

What beautiful paradoxes! This exquisitely lyrical composition is one of three piano settings of Petrach’s Sonnets.

Petrarch had honed a new poetic form of the sonnet. His father had been Dante's friend, yet Petrarch avoided the subject of Dante. He was striking out in a new direction, setting the stage for Renaissance humanism. Yet his philosophy was powerfully grounded in St. Augustine - whose ideas shaped medieval theology. Perhaps that’s why the texts of Petrarch were so appealing to Liszt. Liszt’s life was full of contradictions as well, a simmering mixture of Mephistopheles and monk -- sensual, generous, moralistic -- all at once. The result of those contradictions was, well, contradicting music. Beautiful music which had sorrow, joy, life and death in it, all at once.
The Sonnet begins with a turbulent upward climb in accented chromatic statements until it reaches the peak of a chord, then it descends introspectively into a recitative-like statement of the main theme. The exquisite harmonies modulate between E major and G major, making use of the conventional tonality and juxtaposing in altered whole tone chords.

This recitative-like exposition is transformed into a passionate, romantic setting. New harmonies are introduced, the textures are fuller, and Liszt writes his molto appassionato with his characteristic flying embellishments, long sweeping bass line, and brilliantly flashing two-handed tremolo between high major thirds.

This impassioned section arrives at a sustained silence without any resolution. In a soft whisper, a tortured dissonance of a C minor diminished chord with a major seventh over a G pedal (!!) underscores the melody and resolves into a G major chord like a sigh. Liszt's music surges forth even more passionately here, taking its cues from such lines as "Death I despise, and life alike I hate; Such, lady, do you make my wretched state!". It becomes increasingly agitated, leading to progressively larger spontaneous flourishes that cascade downward. And then, silence.
The first part of the recitative-like theme is recapitulated, and this dissolves with a flowing, languorous coda. A C augmented chord breaks the peaceful mood just for a moment, as if to remind the listener that the balance of emotions and possibilities are still mixed, and it ends with a final E major resolution.

There, yet another piece on love, life and death. You’re still tormenting me, Liszt. It’s been five years. Let’s see how long this can last.

----

J: that day when you played Liebestraume nr 3 at my place, it touched me so deeply and left me on the brink of tears. It wasn’t the technical brilliance or the flamboyant passages, but the sheer simplicity and musicality of your playing, especially in the last two pages that left the profound impact on me. Its exactly like what Chopin said, “Simplicity is the final achievement. After one has played a vast quantity of notes and more notes, it is simplicity that emerges as the crowning reward of art.” Thank you for sharing your music.

2009-12-02T14:57:00.002+08:00

Literature, or at least good literature, is science tempered with the blood of art. Like architecture or music.

-The Angel's Game, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

2009-11-27T00:43:00.001+08:00

Art is emotion & intuition; science is reason

Art is an aesthetic response, science seeks knowledge and understanding.

Art is idiosyncratic. Science is normative.

- words of wisdom from HZ.

Basically, art is, and science isn't.

What then, is art? And how can one draw the line between art and trash?

a hundred and one.

2009-11-26T21:32:00.002+08:00

I received the following email about two weeks ago:

Hi Nat,

This is Clara over at Wikio, the number 1 news aggregator and blog-indexing website in Europe, indexing nearly 200,000 English-language sources. I'm contacting you because Plink, Plonk, Plunk just entered at number 101 in our Classical Music rankings, which is one of the new categories created by Wikio for November.

If you want to add this badge, just follow this link http://www.wikio.com/tools/top-blog if you'd prefer, I could just send you the code directly.

Don't hesitate to get back to me if you have any questions.

Best regards,

Clara Chappaz
Wikio Community Executive US

I'm amused, and a dear lecturer said I should thank God for it. Okay, so I'm both thankful and amused.

101st place! My blog didn't get listed (because only the first 100 did), but what happens in the following months waits to be seen.

And no, I'm not getting any income out of this ;)

A Winter's Journey...

2009-10-20T00:36:00.000+08:00

This post is dedicated to Geok Choo, for without whom I wouldn't have attended this concert; and Jeff, who would probably have liked to attend this concert if he was in Singapore.

"Ich werde euch einen Zyklus schauerlicher Lieder vorsingen. Ich bin begierig zu sehen, was ihr dazu sagt. Sie haben mich mehr angegriffen, als dies bei anderen der Fall war. Mir gefallen diese Lieder mehr als alle, und sie werden euch auch noch gefallen."

-Franz Schubert

Winterreise - by Eng Meng Chia (baritone) and Shane Thio (piano)
13 October 2009, Tuesday, 8.01pm, Esplanade Recital Studio

Winterreise, like the Cello Concerto by Elgar or any major work of music, is not to be taken lightly. It is the type of work which can only be classified as either good or bad, with no such thing as a mediocre performance.

Last week's performance was my first time watching it live, and it was one of the better performances of Winterreise (I've heard quite a number of them) that I've heard. With the first few bars of "Gute Nacht", Eng had the audience gripped. He does not merely perform the songs. Instead of showing theatrically, he had us experience "was uns in inner tiefsten bewegt". Emotions felt by the audience were of the starkest kind, so primitive and poignant. Thio was no less remarkable, with his caresses he brought out the piano part as though it was in itself another complementary voice. It is no wonder then, that Thio had won the accompanist award in the Tankard Lieder Competition while studying on scholarship at the Royal Academy of Music in London. The duo complemented each other perfectly, as if bound together by a magical force. Thio could anticipate almost every nuance by Eng, and if he did not, his instincts were always spot-on.

The mood was set so well; even from the start Eng brought out all the contrasts in just the right tone. In "Gute Nacht", for example, "Was soll ich länger weilen" was suitably loud, wheras "Will dich im Traum nicht stören" was so quietly sung that one felt the audience leaning forward. Overall, the interpretation was not that of the usual angry, stoical journey, but an elegaic, poetic, heartbreaking forlorn and deeply involving one. in "Der Lindenbaum", the cajoling and tempting "komm her zu mir, Geselle, hier findest du deine Ruh!" and the later "du fändest Ruhe dort"was portrayed with such regret that the narrator longed so much to lose himself that you wanted to weep with anguish at the earlier decision of not choosing peace and comfort. His performance possessed a sense of "innigkeit" which informed every note, and sung and played with a rapture and sense of devotion which had me on the edge of my seat, and on the verge of tears throughout.

In such an outstanding performance, there were so many high points that I find it difficult to select a few. Even writing this almost a week later, I can still hear his clear voice and the heartfelt "Ihr lacht wohl über den Träumer, der Blumen im Winter sah?" and the reminiscing of "Ach, dass die Luft so ruhig!". Winterreise was brought to a close with the hauntingly beautiful rendition of "Der Leiermann". Here, Eng paced slowly and walked behind the piano, letting Thio take the spotlight as if he was the old man playing the barrel organ. Standing behind the piano but still facing the audience, Eng sang quietly, intoning his words so softly with an air of rapture. Although the piano is far more sophisticated than the primitive barrel organ, the simple tune that Schubert writes is effective in telling us the power of its music. The short, folk-like refrain remained long in the mind of the audience, and it is as though it was directionless but persistent, repeating itself over and over and over...

This pretty much sums up everything...

2009-09-29T15:55:00.002+08:00

Thanks LY for sharing this on Facebook, I thought'd others might want to enjoy it so I posted it here too (:

MOTHER MARRIED AN OBOE PLAYER
Paul de Vergie

(Editor's note: In response to many requests, we reprint this delightful article by the son of Jean de Vergie (for many years the second oboist of the Boston Symphony). It first appeared in the February 19, 1949 Saturday Evening Post. This reprint is with their permission. Even with the kind help of the Boston Symphony 's management, we have been unable to locate the long deceased Jean De Vergie's family, but we are confident they will be gratifed to have yet another generation of oboists enjoy this article.)

Pity the woman who plays second fiddle to an oboe. For that temperamental instrument -- which can't stand heat, cold or jarring -- may not drive her husband crazy but is almost certain to make a shambles of her home.

The next time you see a symphony orchestra at work, look twice at the three men, second row center, who are getting plaintive notes from what look like undernourished clarinets. The instruments are oboes, and you are looking on haunted, hagridden, bedeviled men. The public likes to believe that all oboe players are crazy; the whole violin section hates them bitterly; their wives and children rejoice when they are not home; and a snake charmer with a sulky cobra on his hands doesn't have as much trouble as an oboe gives an oboist. Furthermore, these men are sore at themselves for taking up the oboe-- the really good ones curse in their sleep when dreaming of the easy lives of other instrumentalists. But they can't get angry, for if they do, they'll sharp. Friend, have you got troubles? Then you'd enjoy knowing an oboist. Or an oboist's family.

I know, because I am the son of one of the best oboists in the country. Last winter while out in the Rockies I traveled about six miles on skis every Tuesday night to a mountain inn to hear the weekly broadcast of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, in which my father plays. My definitely battered appearance on the scene after bucking the mountain trails in the dark usually aroused some curiosity. When questioned, I would say I had come to hear my father play. "What does he play?" they asked with real interest. "Oboe," I said. "Oh," they said politely. As always, I drew inquiring and vaguely suspicious looks.

Tell people your father practices medicine, and they wonder where; say he practices law, and they wonder what kind; say he plays the oboe, and they just wonder. I'd like to testify, as an oboist's son, that oboists are not necessarily crazy, but have every right to be. Furthermore, if it is true an oboist in Canada used to kick his wife out of bed and give her place to the oboe in cold weather, it is because oboes are even harder to keep in tune than the most temperamental of wives. The guy had a case, I mean. Lots of men have wives. Only a luckless few have oboes.

And a man with an oboe shouldn't get married anyway; it's a form of bigamy. If he is saddled with an oboe he's got all the wife and child any man needs; and he doesn't need a mother-in-law either. As a great conductor says, when trying to express the totally unsuitable, "It don't go, my friend; it don't go." Take morning in our house. Father had a stormy evening battling that oboe, and now he wants to make amends by being extremely pleasant. Only at breakfast does he see his family assembled, and he regards us lovingly. He sips his coffee. We are a picture of perfect peace. Suddenly father lets out a roar of anguish, as if he had just found carbolic acid in the bottom of his cup. He leaps to his feet. "Who knocked my best reed on the floor?" he bleats. Now we are getting back to normal.

You see, the kitchen table was covered, when mother began preparing breakfast, with small screwdrivers, enough wicked little knives to perform all the surgery in the Mayo Clinic, and reeds. To an oboe player, his soul is not so important as his reed, nor does it give him so much trouble. He can never get it right. It starts out as a sturdy stalk of cane growing in the south of France and ends up as two fragile wisps, paper thin and about an inch long, bound tightly to a tiny copper tube ending in a cork tip. The secret of a successful reed lies in shaving it. This requires practice, a delicate sureness with the knife, and the patience of a saint. It also involves howls of exasperation, cursing, gnashing of teeth and agony of soul. Father is one of the few oboists with any hair left, but he started out with a luxuriant crop, and it is dwindling fast.

Just getting ready to play is a tough job in itself --a job any craftsman would watch with admiration. As for playing the darned thing, that is a remarkable physical feat approaching self-torture. Roughly, what you do is this: you hold your breath for a full half minute at a time, letting it escape very, very gently through this fragile mouthpiece, which looks like the big brother of a trout fly; meanwhile you run your fingers ragged performing lovely arpeggios, all staccato, probably, and written in six flats.

An oboe player's home is full of little glasses of water in which reeds are soaking. You see, the poor beset man is trying to get one exactly soft enough for what he is sure they are going to play today. He is an expert at this--he has to be-- and sure enough, he gets one into exactly the state that produces the round, soft, sweet tone he wants.

So what happens? They change the program on him, opening with music that requires a strong reed with a loud, brilliant tone, and he's cooked. He's always cooked. The reed that sounded so fine at home is sickly and weak in the concert hall or splits just when he needs it, or if none of this happens, then a key sticks and ruins a solo.

When the French National Orchestra was here recently, the same kind of accident befell the first oboe, but he was a fighter. Without losing a sixty-fourth note he snatched the instrument out of the hands of the astonished second oboe and played the solo perfectly. Without sharping, too, which was luck indeed, in his excited frame of mind. We try not to get father nervous for that very reason, and we have to try to keep him happy--or as happy as an oboe player ever can be-- because a sad oboist plays flat. And if he's flat, everybody's flat. The orchestra, as you may know, tunes to the oboe. He is a frustrated perfectionist, and when he sounds his A, nothing under heaven will make him change it. The string players all hate his guts. They always want to sneak up a little sharper, for brilliance, and he never lets them. They never miss a chance at revenge. The great Jascha Heifetz paused during rehearsal to ask the oboe to sound another A. The A could hardly be heard. In a loud whisper, Heifetz asked the concertmaster, "Is your first oboe a Scot?"

A thousand devils of fear beset the oboist. Heat will crack his oboe from top to bottom; so will cold. Let it get damp and it may split; let it get a sudden jar and it may crack like a melon. On top of all this, he has to practice a great deal--the oboe is probably the most difficult of instruments and plays difficult music. In the Tomb of Couperin, by Maurice Ravel, the oboe solo is so tough that musicians in France have changed the name to the Tomb of the Oboist.

Furthermore, he knows every minute of his practicing that he has the unified hatred of the neighbors. It isn't mere suspicion. Shortly after an oboe player moves anyplace he can expect to find the first letter signed, "Indignant Neighbor. " If it is an apartment, he has to smuggle the oboe in as you would smuggle a pet tiger. What really burns him is the letters passed along by his landlord which refer to "that damned piccolo player. " He has to practice his trade as if it were a mild vice of some kind.

Father has worked out a system you have to admit is fairness itself. He practices one half hour in one part of the house and then moves to another room, until he has made a complete circuit. On the hottest day he keeps the windows tightly closed, and he has figured out scientifically just how much each neighbor can take. If somebody on the west is a little more sensitive than the others, then he, or she, doesn't get a full half hour. Our whole family keeps on the move, keeping one room ahead of father. Along the way he leaves a trail of reeds, screwdrivers, corks, and pieces of cane which no one dares to touch, much less move. One of the best cleaning women we lost swept an array of reeds into a desk drawer. Only by great self-control did father keep from strangling her. In turn, she said he was touched, and pointed out that it is hard to clean a house where every flat-topped piece of furniture is likely to have a glass of water with cane soaking in it. Father soaks many species of cane overnight, and some for a couple of days, before he makes reeds out of them. And there is no way in the world of telling what reed may be the good, the trouble- saving, the blessed one.

The cleaning woman had been suspicious of our family from the start; she may have thought we were involved in some form of voodoo. That's because the house was full of turkey feathers. My father gets gloomy every Thanksgiving, full of fear that turkeys will be eaten into extinction. He has to have turkey feathers; they are as important to an oboist as wax to a skier. He uses them to clean the oboe and to get its innards dry. No other feather will do it. But he's in good shape; he has a pupil whose mother runs a turkey farm. This pupil never arrives for a lesson without bringing another bundle. As a result, we have feathers enough to outfit a good-sized Indian tribe. It is a ten-year supply, my father believes happily. There are feathers in most of the bureau drawers; I find feathers mixed with my shirts and socks; mother finds feathers in the linen closet. Take a book from the bookcase and out spill more turkey feathers, and there are beautiful sprays of feathers in the flower vases. In moments of preoccupation mother has sometimes watered them.

Every time I hear my father take one of his oboes--every symphony oboist has several-- and get sweet music out of it, instead of breaking it to pieces on the piano, my respect for his character increases. What a life! An oboist's career is in two neat movements; he takes up the oboe, he spends the rest of his life regretting it. A fiddle player who had to raise his own cats to get a reliable E string wouldn't have half the trouble an oboe player has on his quietest Monday.

Even in summer, when he doesn't have to worry about cold weather, an oboist watches the thermometer as anxiously as if he had his life savings tied up in a bed of orchids. Let an oboe get chilled, and if it doesn't crack it goes sour, and when warm again it sheds keys. Wherever we find an oboe in our house, there it stays. Nobody touches it; I just tiptoe around and make sure no smallest breeze is blowing on this mean-tempered chronic invalid. The other musicians think that story of the oboist who made his wife sleep on the floor in zero weather is funny. In our family we know how he felt. It was a choice between having trouble with his wife or trouble with his oboe, and he chose the lesser of two evils.

... the more we get together....

2009-08-24T00:25:00.008+08:00

What happens when one puts seven oboes, a barock oboe, a cor anglais, a piano and eight oboists (and two Jack-Russell terriers as well, I must add) in the same place?

I'll let the pictures do the talking (:

First there was Liangyou.

and nobody else. So he started giving Patches a massage,

which Patches thoroughly enjoyed.

Duets.

Trio! More like,

The girlfriend, boyfriend, extra and the continuo.

Reeds, oboes, barock oboe, drinks.

Everyone had to present a piece each, and play the exposition section of the Mozart Concerto. 8 rounds of Mozart later, we did the oboe test. Luis played all the oboes one after the other, and we were supposed to guess which was which. The collection was made up of a Cocobolo Howarth, 3 Marigaux (My oboe Murray was one of them), a Rigoutat, a Frank Ludwig and a Dupin. Results were horribly unexpected. I guess that proves that the reed, player and the oboe all matter.

And then we found something else to do with the oboes: they made good props!

Star!

Fellowship of the Bells? Kai says that the barock oboe bell is Gandalf, the Ludwig Frank bell is the dwarf, and the two little bells are the hobbits! (:

Summer 2009 Collection

Playing with reedKnives..
*disclaimer: no human or dog was injured during the photoshoot*

A proper family photo (see if you can spot the Barock oboe, it blends in too well with the sofa!)

and finally, as LY says,

What's a gathering without good food?

Dinner at Fengshan or Bedok 85 was simply the best. Cheap and really, really good!

This gathering rekindled my love for the oboe, and I'm sure the others were refreshed as well. Thanks guys, for such a lovely evening (:

---

p.s. I was just writing programmme notes for the upcoming nafa concert and i thought.. feels like one of those Schubertiards in classical days yea? We shld hv these more often. =D

Influence...

2009-08-12T00:34:00.002+08:00

I get miffed by people blasting their music out loud when on the bus. Especially when it's stupid loud and brainless pop music. What's the point of playing your music for everyone to hear? Think you're being considerate by "sharing"?

I was sitting at the back of the bus, all the way to the left side. It wasn't very crowded. A few stops later, up comes this guy, badly in need of a haircut and a shower, and he plonked himself on the seat directly in front of mine. He took out his phone and started playing songs from the speaker function. Loud. The Natalie didn't like being disturbed out of her rest. Feeling provoked, I took out my iPhone and chose the Vivaldi oboe concerti.

Yep, what better way to teach him a lesson? I played the Albrecht Mayer's Vivaldi oboe concerti album aloud and held it in front of me, directly towards his ear (The bus wasn't crowded, and I was sure that I wasn't disturbing anyone else). I think he could tell there was something, and he turned around a few times. I pretended not to know anything. He increased his volume. And I upped mine too. I'm sure I succesfully irritated him. After all, he couldn't ask me to soften it when he was guilty of it, could he? (:

This went on for the remaining few stops. As I was about to alight, I turned to him and said, "Excuse me, there's an invention called earphones. Please be more considerate to others around you." I smiled at him and alighted the bus.

Who knows, maybe he'll start listening to classical music =D

Back!

2009-07-08T02:10:00.002+08:00

I'm finally back from a month-long graduation trip to Europe that involved lots of concerts, an opera, composer's graves, good food, and much needed rest. Pictures, stories and reviews coming up soon!

Watch this space (:

Of Bruch and Bernstein...

2009-05-15T23:24:00.003+08:00

This article was submitted in partial fulfillment of the Music Criticism component for my BA(Hons) degree course. I couldn't post it until now because it had to be marked and graded first. Enjoy (:

“The orchestra plays mechanically, using mechanical energy; the conductor just moves his hands, and his movements have an effect on the music artistry.” – Leon Theremin, inventor of the theramin, one of the earliest electronic music instruments. Based on the above statement, how would the same orchestra perform when faced with two similar programmes, two talented fiddlers, and two very different conductors?

The orchestra in question was the Singapore Symphony Orchestra, whose ‘08-’09 season includes more Bernstein works than usual in celebration of the composer’s 90^th birthday. Serenade after Plato’s Symposium and Candide Suite were performed on September 12 under the baton of Resident Conductor Lim Yau, and On The Town: Three dance Episodes on September 20 under the baton of Rossen Milanov.

Lim Yau, veteran conductor of the SSO, directed with flowery movements. Newcomer Milanov’s angular strokes of the baton were not as aesthetically pleasing, but were much more effective and easier for the orchestra to follow.

Huang Mengla’s technique was almost flawless, his weak link being his arrogance. He executed all virtuosic passages with ease and panache, playing with a maturity that belied his youthful looks. His playing style, which yielded a rich and sonorous tone from the violin, remained the same throughout the whole of the Serenade. This worked favourably in the slower movements. One could just imagine the young, charismatic Agathon giving his panegyric that embraces all aspects of love’s powers, or Socrates and his introspective musings in his description of his visit to the seer Diotima. However, in the faster movements he seemed to be suggesting, “I’m off, catch me if you can!” He picked any tempo and started off with it, not seeming to care about what the orchestra was playing and whether they could keep up with him. The orchestra was in frenzy. Lim Yau tried best as he could to control the orchestra, but the strings were in a mess, and the first violins were rushing.

In contrary, Arabella Steinbacher’s rendition of Bruch’s Scottish Fantasy was outstanding. Since this work consists of Bruch’s adaptations of Scottish folk melodies divided into clear-cut movements, it offers a wide range of characters – from the deeply melancholic to the ethereal to the joyful and boisterous – giving the soloist a chance to demonstrate her capabilities on the violin. And demonstrate she did, along with an obviously deep understanding of the music. Following the orchestra’s introduction, she had the audience captivated with her sensitive introduction that was like a distant star shimmering in the night sky. Sensitivity was a key feature of her playing, and unlike Huang, she blended well with the orchestra rather than fought against them. She switched easily from virtuosic passages to long lyrical lines, and her technique certainly did not disappoint. Along with good technique, she had totally commanding stage presence.

Suite from Candide was arranged by Charlie Harmon, Bernstein’s personal assistant and music editor. This graceful and charming arrangement is peppered with influences of Strauss and Elgar, but its composition style is extremely unlike that of Bernstein. Lim Yau’s elaborated strokes suit the nature of the piece well, but the arrangement did not capture the essence of Bernstein’s writing, even when using his music. Milanov tried to make the three dances from On The Town as ‘American’ as he could, and the swing character he conjured sounded a little forced. Although he had full control of the orchestra, he did not manage to get the feel of the work. Maybe, just maybe if Milanov was American, everything would have sounded perfect.

On whistling waiters, cooking pasta and rossini...

2009-04-17T00:37:00.004+08:00

Rossini's thieving magpie overture is on the list of excerpts for my exam, and Murakami happens to write about it ever so often. He mentions it as perfect background music to cooking spaghetti in the Wind-up Bird Chronicle, and later on in the same book, writes about a waiter who whistles the tune perfectly while carrying a tray of alcohol into a room.

Now i can't play the excerpt without thinking about the pasta-cooking bit. As hz puts it, cognitively brainwashed.

how how how?

2009-04-06T20:43:00.001+08:00

"The radio was playing an unaccompanied violin sonata by Bach. The performance itself was excellent, but there was something annoying about it. I didn't know whether this was the fault of the violinist or of my own present state of mind, but I turned off the music and went on cooking in silence."

- Murakami, from The Wind-up Bird Chronicle

2009-03-15T22:56:00.002+08:00

"Can anyone who has heard this music, I mean really heard it, truly be bad?"

the dawn of a new language...

2009-03-03T21:45:00.001+08:00

... and he calls it ginglish - german + singlish (:

Bernstein - Chichester Psalms (Part II)

2009-03-01T23:17:00.009+08:00

Continuing from Part I, here's the second movement of the Chichester Psalms.

The opening solo of Psalm 23 is one of the simplest and most beautiful melodies ever - compassionate and full of hope. Bernstein specifically wrote this part for a high male voice, whether boy alto or countertenor and never, never by a woman.

Again this can be divided into 2 sections, almost in ternary form.

Adonai ro-i, lo eḥsar. The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.
Bin'ot deshe yarbitseini, He maketh me to lie down in green pastures,
Al mei m'nuḥot y'naḥaleini, He leadeth me beside the still waters,
Naf'shi y'shovev, He restoreth my soul
Yan'ḥeini b'ma'aglei tsedek, He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness,
L'ma'an sh'mo. For His name's sake

The movement opens with an arpeggiated chord by the harp consisting of open fifths (A and E), and a D# to create a feeling of apprehension. Then the solo sings, accompanied by simple chords on the harp. The picture of the boy David accompanying himself on a harp comes to mind. It is a simple, atonal but tuneful melody, singing of the Lord's goodness and providence. There is a little break, and the first two lines end with the same arpeggiated chord that started the movement. The next part which follows is more contemplative, with descending arpeggiated notes plucked by the harp. This was stolen from the never-published musical, The Skin of our Teeth, with different words in the exact same tune (the song was about the coming of spring)! It was charming and poetic, with the same sense of hope as this poem. It is tonal now, and leads slowly but surely into the key of A major, where the violins enter playing the melody and the harp playing the bass, giving one the feeling of assurance and security.

Gam ki eilech Yea, though I walk
B'gei tsalmavet, Through the valley of the shadow of death
Lo ira ra, I will fear no evil
Ki Atah imadi. For Thou art with me.
Shiv't'cha umishan'techa Thy rod and Thy staff
Hemah y'naḥamuni. They comfort me.

At this point a new figure emerges based on the primary melody, set between the Soprano1s and 2s. There is a soprano voice, and then a sort-of distant echo that starts one bar later. Over the top of it, the violins play a delicate, descant, ascending countermelody. The next part starts off in the same quasi-canonic quality earlier, and this time, right after the verses, the boy soloist enters, most miraculously and beautifully, singing "The Lord is my Shepherd". The choir sings this in the same rustic simplicity as the boy soloist earlier, affirming the Lord as shepherd. And suddenly the tranquility is shattered by the rude interjection of the male choristers of Psalm 2:

Lamah rag'shu goyim Why do the nations rage,
Ul'umim yeh'gu rik? And the people imagine a vain thing?
Yit'yats'vu malchei erets, The kings of the earth set themselves,
V'roznim nos'du yaḥad And the rulers take counsel together
Al Adonai v'al m'shiḥo. Against the Lord and against His anointed
N'natkah et mos'roteimo, Saying, let us break their bands asunder,
V'nashlichah mimenu avoteimo. And cast away their cords from us.
Yoshev bashamayim He that sitteth in the heavents
Yis'ḥak, Adonai Shall laugh, and the Lord
Yil'ag lamo! Shall have them in derision!

Percussive sounding Hebrew words, such epically and graphically written! It creates a divided sense of the splutterings, whisperings and mutterings; all the evil of our world and the craziness of it all. The theme worries away at the small handful of pitches, as if scratching away at a wound. Loud outbursts, protests and insistant shouts fill this movement, like war-music. Why do the nations rage so furiously together? It talks further about God sitting in the heavens laughing at these people, having them in derision. This is theatre at Bernstein's best, soothing the savage beast of the men's outcry. He brings in the women, with the original boy-solo melody above the men's voices and the warming words of Psalm 23 once again:

Ta'aroch l'fanai shulchan Thou preparest a table before me
Neged tsor'rai In the presence of mine enemies,
Dishanta vashemen roshi Thou anoitest my head with oil,
Cosi r'vayaḥ. My cup runneth over.

The men continue the splutter and jeering underneath the women's voices, who spread their healing balm with words of comfort. At this point the boy-solo enters with the crux of the message:

Ach tov vaḥesed Surely goodness and mercy
Yird'funi kol y'mei ḥayai Shall follow me all the days of my life,
V'shav'ti b'veit Adonai And I will dwell in the house of the Lord
L'orech yamim. Forever.

And as if to put across the message that the world never shrugs off its troubles, the distant war-cry is heard by the trumpet and the xylophone ending the music with three final beats of the bass drum.

This post follows Paster Andrew Yeo's sermon yesterday at Live! on how the world is dying, and how we can make a great change just by having the compassion to love what we see as the unlovable.

for Reuben.
let's continue to see everything through God's eyes, show the world what God's love and compassion is.
(:

Murray the Mariguax

2009-02-16T22:47:00.002+08:00

Murray the Marigaux joins the family! He's a (approximately) 4-year-old 2001, and has been extremely well taken care of by the previous owner. The sound is absolutely gorgeous and sweet, and he has the ability to play really softly and blend. (I find projection a problem sometimes though.) Will post more pictures of him soon.

Been busy with school work and performances. My degree recital is coming up in May, and here's the repertoire so far:

Vivaldi - Concerto in D minor, RV 454

Mozart - Concerto in C major, K314,

Britten - Six metamorphoses after Ovid

Too ambitious? Perhaps. All that plus 16 orchestral excerpts. oh noooooo.

around and about, (Part II)

2008-12-23T09:16:00.003+08:00

After Salisbury Cathedral that day we headed on to Bath. Saw this hotel on the way to the Roman Baths.

"And the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them." - Isa 111:6
So Lion and Lamb is right after all (:

The baths were beautiful.

There was a pretend "King" saying a prayer to Sulis Minerva, the lady goddess of the water. The water was bubbling and smoking not because of the heat but because of the minerals.

So the Romans believed that there was a special power in the water and that the goddess was magically making it bubble. They came to this place to take baths, and these were social events that would take up the whole day.

From one pool to the other the romans would go, to the sauna, then into rooms where they were scrubbed clean, then into cold water baths.

a picture of the cold water baths. Don't know which stupid Singaporean was feeling rich.

That's it for now, something's wrong with the internet connection and pictures are not being uploaded. This trip's been great so far, we've been to Stratford-upon-Avon and watched Romeo and Juliet by the Royal Shakespeare Company, Warwick Castle, Cambridge for punting and to see the colleges and see relatives, and London for Les Miserables in West End!! Much much more to come, when the internet is working again.

I'm not really looking forward to going back to the stressful humid life in Singapore. Bah.

around and about...

2008-12-18T04:42:00.012+08:00

Went to so many places today! We got up about 7 and had an early breakfast from about 8 to 8.30. Then we tried to set off but...
the car was covered in frost! So we spent about 10 minutes just trying to get the ice off the windscreen and the rear windscreen. Another 5 minutes was spent trying to warm up the car. And then we were on our way!

Our first stop was Stonehenge, an hour's drive away from Bath. The Lord was good to us, and the weather was beautiful.

The scenery along the way, with its quaint little houses lining the streets and the lush, green fields. Reaching Stonehenge we see much more green space and
countless sheep dotting the greenery.

So expensive! All just to see a pile of stones. Bah.

Okay, fine. They were big. And towered above us. But still, it was a bit disappointing.

Here's the view from another side of the Stonehenge.
Like the above picture says, no one knows its purpose. Apparently the flat stone in the middle is an altar. If the four corner stones (not in picture) were joined, they would form a square, with the altar in the middle. It even looked like that before:
Artist's impression. But why the big circle? And the altar in the middle?

We left Stonehenge for Salisbury to see the Salisbury Cathedral, for which the Chichester Psalms were written for. (See here for my post on the Chichester Psalms) . It's one of my most favourite choral works, and after seeing all the pictures of it and hearing the work a hundred times over, I simply had to visit the Salisbury Cathedral. Especially since it's located so close to Stonehenge. Managed to persuade mum and brother to make the 30min drive there, and even searched for directions and led the way there.

The cathedral was nothing short of magnificent. Just standing before it made me feel so small.

The cathedral from where our car was parked, and the floor plan of the place.

Extremely stunning, which makes beautiful pictures too (:

On the exterior were many saints. I wonder why the one on the right is much whiter than the others around it..

High ceilings and a lot of space.

Beautiful, intricate stained glass on the walls, each with a story to tell.

The two heads behind are part of an art installation of Angel's Heads, all hand-made using a hammer and nail. In front is a little overflowing pool, with inscriptions on the side. I like this photo, with my reflection and the reflection of the stained glass behind me.

The inscriptions in gold, and a cross below it. Really pretty. All four sides have different words on them.

Angels from above.

There are many little chapels,
from small ones,

to bigger ones.

These were on the walls. I think they were used for lights.

can't quite remember what this brown place is, but I think they were pews. They had bibles and hymnals on the seats.

the sacred area.

a huge candle, can't remember what it's for (read the description)

The small pipe organ. I think there's a larger one elsewhere, but I couldn't find it.

A musician. Which explains why there are instruments and music scores on it. Composer, hymnal editor, pastor... of the Cathedral.

See the statue? It's more white than the others.
And a final photo of the Salisbury Cathedral before leaving for Bath.

Went on to the Roman Baths, then Jane Austen's house (only the shop, the museum was closed) and then finally a yummy dinner at Sally Lunn's, the oldest house in Bath. Pictures and updates tomorrow! Early day tomorrow, we're driving to Stratford-upon-Avon. Goodnight for now (:

Last few days of Cardiff... and a bit of Bristol.

2008-12-16T05:07:00.008+08:00

Didn't have much to do until the end of term. Practiced for 2 hours in college, met Nikki to play duets, and attended Alicia's Harp Recital on thursday, and went for dinner with the whole harp department at this nice Italian place called Zizzi.

That's Nikki and I. Nikki's a really good oboist. Fantastic tone, very nice sound, and extremely in control of the oboe. She can play really softly and very loudly too. She's from Nottingham. She asked me out to play duets with her (it was supposed to be a trio with Sam, but Sam was hungover from a party on wed night). We picked up scores from the library and sight-read through Beethoven's variations, swapping parts after each variation. Good fun! We should do a concert like that some day, swapping instruments/parts for the variations. It'll be so hilarious!
The harp recital was interesting, but so very long. Almost 2 hours without an intermission. Alicia played my favourite two of Granados' Danzas Espanola, No. 2 (Oriental) and No. 5 (Andaluza). It was also appropriate because she's half-spanish. I thought the standard of the harp players was high. The performances were good and they introduced their pieces in a very professional manner. One performer, let's call her SulkyGirl, wasn't good. She entered the stage with a sulky look on her face, even though her teacher was smiling encouragingly at her. She didn't acknowledge the applause, but proceeded to just sit down and play. Her technique was good but her mood spoilt the whole atmosphere. It was as though she was playing in her own little world, and the audience weren't invited. After her solo piece (J.S. Bach's Tempo Di Bouree transcribed into an Etude for Harp), she introduced her next piece, saying "I'd very much like to welcome B, a flautist, to play the next piece with me." After that she sulked and sat down again, proceeding to perform her next piece. Even during the music I could tell that she was still in her own little world, and that she didn't want the flautist there with her, she didn't enjoy her music, and she'd much rather be in the Carribean Islands than playing her music. There was a duet performance on the Triple Harp, the official instrument of Wales, and Baroque violin. I enjoyed every bit of that performance. The finale was interesting, it was a 7-harp ensemble playing the Chanson Boheme from Carmen.
Dinner at Zizzi started at about 10. That's Alicia and her department head and I in the picture. The harp department is pretty cool. It's 7 of them girls, and they organize dinners and get-togethers, where friends are invited too. Dinner was awesome (: Pasta with fresh prawns, and an Amaretti Cheesecake for dessert.

Introducing Sandy my fantastic oboe teacher. Had my last oboe lesson with Sandy on Friday. We did Britten's Metamorphoses. It was so nice to have a change of teaching style and interpretation, and as Sandy says, the most beautiful thing about playing the Metamorphoses is that no two oboists play them the same. Have worked Pan and Arethusa out with Tim Watts (who happened to play second oboist to Sandy for years in the opera long time ago! They're good friends), so Sandy and I worked through Narcissus and Niobe. He didn't really like Phaeton so we didn't do it. We also did the Gillet nr. 3, the forked-F etude, and fixed reeds. He profiled 3 in total for me, with his german profiler.

That's Mike. I met him for coffee at Starbucks, and he was so looking forward to driving back for the Christmas holidays. Had such an enjoyable time talking to him over hot chocolate. He's in third-year, same as Alicia.

Attended the College concert in St David's Hall with Alicia after that. They did Vaughn Williams Sea Symphony, a very large-scale work for chorus and orchestra and two soloists. Job well done to all of them, especially since they only got the music 11 days before the concert and commenced rehearsals one week before the concert! 4 movements, 1-hour-long. No intermission. My attention wandered frequently. During the second movement or so, a man wearing a white coat and jeans walked (making quite a lot of noise), from behind to the choir gallery area. He proceeded to sit down next to the choir and got up promptly and disappeared behind the choir after a minute or so, all while the music was still going on. I thought it was strange. I didn't think much of it, until after the concert when the choir members discovered that some of them had items stolen. That guy had gone backstage, stolen the choir members' stuff, and ran away. He had lots of time to do it (about 3 movements long, and the 4th movement itself was about 20 min long!) and escape. Many had wallets, phones, passports, iPods stolen. The police couldn't do much about it. My flatmate Sarah seemed the worst-hit. Her passport and wallet with new credit cards and phone were stolen. I do hope they catch that guy soon. Thank God that she's back home, and with a new passport.

Said my goodbyes to friends whom I'll either never see again or never see for a long long long time. The flat felt so empty. Royce went home early, and Grace left early on saturday.
Grace, my favourite flat-mate. She's been so nice to me, baking brownies for my birthday, lending me her DVDs so I can pass time, and watching TV with me at nights.

Left for Bristol with Shing Min and Stephanie on Saturday for Edward's concert. Tried to sight-see a bit, but Bristol was a brown, boring place. Came across this though:

John Wesley's place, and the first ever Methodist church in the world! Everything else was quite boring. We expected to see a nice park, but all we had were grass patches, leading to an old, run-down miserable church. So we walked around the shops instead. Everywhere looked the same, comparing the shopping arcades to those in Cardiff. There were the usual brands of The Body Shop, H&M, and all the others.

One of the old, brown buildings.

Stephanie the jazz singer outside the Hippodrome.

big, BIG brown building.

Houses lined up nicely going up the street. The church where the concert was held is on the left of the picture, with the arch. Also brown.

But with stunning architecture, and elaborate detail in the walls.
A huge, grand church. And the concert was a sell-out!! I thought the first half was rather good. The Bristol Chamber Choir, the oldest chamber choir in Bristol, was conducted by Edward. They sang mostly Christmas-like songs in the first half, and the second half was Gabriel's Trumpet, a Christmas fable composed by Edward. An interesting piece incorporating some bible stories, but very long.

The concert ended about 5, and we caught the train back to Cardiff. Had dinner, then it was a night of Uno in Shing Min's flat, with Stephane, Michelle and Edward who came back later. Fun! Watched X-Factor, and I'm so glad Alexandra Burke won. JLS was just baaaaad. Horrible intonation, bad hand gestures, and worse singing.

Went back about 11 and then hit the sack. Mum came on Sunday, went to the station to pick them up. Headed to St Fagan's after that with Mum, Matt and Alicia. The weather was beautiful. Today we went to the Bay, then did a bit of shopping in the city. I cooked them Carbonara after that! It was yummy (: Tomorrow we're picking up the car, then driving to Bristol, and settling down in Bath for the day. Might not be able to blog for a while, but will do so when I can. Watch this space!

Of Wales, Whales, Cats and Pigs

2008-12-11T19:36:00.003+08:00

The poem in the boyfriend's letter today was funny and touching!

Wales Whales

There was once a little girl
Who asked me this one day,
Are there whales in Wales
Are they called Whales or Wales?

To this young girl I replied
Wales and Whales are not the same
I know not if there are whales
In Wales at any day

The little girl smiles at me and went
There are whales; and there is Wales
There's Wales Whales.

Amused I was
Laughable I thought
Wales' Whales
Whales' Wales
What was right or wrong?

She stayed with me
Much we talked
All on this phrase
Whales' Wales or Wales' Whales is there?

Now this little girl
Has left my side
Onto Wales has she gone
To see the truth of Wales and Whales and all that's not

Now I lie in bed,
Heart longing, and waiting
For her return; For her story
On Whales and Wales

by Roo, in a letter dated 11 Dec 2008. (:

***

I saw this in the paper yesterday. Looks like Cat Burglar takes on its literal meaning! Read the whole story here.

Some cats have a nasty habit of bringing dead mice into the house but this naughty pet enjoys turning up with cuddly toys.

The cat’s whiskers: Frankie with a collection of toys he has swiped from homes in the neighbourhood

Frankie has his owner in a flap - after bringing home 35 teddies and fluffy animals in the last year.
Julie Bishop reckons the two-year-old is swiping the toys from homes in the neighbourhood but she cannot think why or how he does it.

***

And apparently, sound therapy for pigs too?

STY-POD: Pigs are happier when they hear tunes in their pens. Piglets played 20 minutes of classical music a day ended up less stressed and better behaved, a study showed. Their narrow pen was also filled with soft straw, food and drink. Pigs using it showed improved signs of behaviour, said experts in the Netherlands. It is hoped the study could be used to improve animal welfare.

day 17...

2008-12-11T18:13:00.010+08:00

I dragged myself out of bed for a day trip to Birmingham! Caught the 0745Hrs National Express to Birmingham, and I got there about 1030. Yeo was at the station to pick me up, and after joining his housemates for breakfast at MacDonald's, we hopped on a train to Bournville, where the Cadbury brothers made chocolate that surpassed all others of their time. They took the business from a household one to a shop, and then factory, and then they build a whole town for their workers which they named Bournville.

As soon as we exited the station, we could tell it was Cadburytown. All the lamposts were purple in colour! We walked a bit further down and we could literally follow our noses to the factory.
following the sign, we saw this at the entrance:

HUGE Creme Egg things! These were actually little buggy-like cars to travel around for staff, I think.

Inside, they showed us how the Chocolate receipe was stolen from the Aztecs, and fell into Spanish men's hands. The secret of the receipe went to France and then to England.

Chocolate, like tea and coffee, became a wholesome substitute for alcohol, and it was fashionable to meet at Chocolate houses to discuss politics, play chess and of course, drink chocolate.

Here's one of the high society things.

There's the roof , and the little light inside. High-class stuff.

After that, we sat through a series of videos telling how chocolate was developed from drink to food, and how the receipe was improved. They used talking holograms to show us the journey.

It's dark, but the three figures were moving and talking holograms against a backdrop of real stuff. Pretty cool huh?

From that, we entered into Cadabra! area, where we sat in a little car that brought us around the little chocolate beans. Kind of like "it's a small world" Disneyland type of place.

Beanville! Sorry for the lousy picture, the cars were moving ;P

Beanville in winter! Beware of falling ~~rocks~~ chocs!

Wheeee! We're Cadbury Cows! :P

Beans fishing for....?

After this area we stepped into the chocolate-processing area, a no photography zone. We saw how the machines worked and how chocolate was made in different assortments and wrapped in foil.

Then it was off to the play area, an area where they demonstrate how chocolate is made.
First the chocolate has to be tempered. (The Well-Tempered ~~Clavier~~ Chocolate, anyone?)
This is done by spreading the liquid on the marble slab, spreading out, scraping it off, and spreading it again. This cools the chocolate and also makes it more viscous.

That's Darell, trying to ~~tamper with~~ temper the chocolate.

Then, you could write whatever you want on the marble board!

This guy took the blame for all our scribblings. Mine's the flower on the right. (: Each of them signed their names but I drew a flower.

After that was a chocolate-making station. Liquid chocolate came out from the tap, and after tempering, was spread into a mould.

Then it was left to harden, and after a while in the fridge,
Shells! So those Belgian Chocolate shells are all made like that. You'd get the outside, then fill inside with whatever filling (hazelnuts/strawberry creams) and then put the two ends of the shell together.

Chocolate Hearts made in the factory! Awww sweeet..

This kinda gives kids the wrong idea..

After all that it was off to the gift shop.

I thought this was cute!

5kg chocolate block!!

I think it cost over 40 dollars or something..

Went to the heritage trail after that.

Old Cadbury building, just like in the 50s.

Train!

Tired, we caught the train back to Birmingham central station. Walked through the streets, and then went to the Frankfurter Weihnachsmarkt. Wasn't authentically German, but I had fun!
Witch's hat! (:

And a shop selling nutcracker dolls! There were shops selling Marzipan, glass figurines, candies, Bier, Bratwursts, and... Buddhas?!

At the Bulls Ring shopping centre on the way back stands a huge bronze bull that looks like this.

Inside, however, there's also a bull, the exact same size and make, that looks like this:

and it's made of my favourite Jellybeans! along with the notice:

20,000 pounds for a jellybean bull! No thanks. ;P

My first time ever buying a box of Krispy Kreme! (: Got a box of doughnuts, and boarded the coach home. I reached Cardiff at about 2100, boarded the bus 23 and reached Severn Point by 2200. Home, sweet home!

day 15 and 16...

2008-12-11T18:10:00.002+08:00

... were spent sleeping after sending my friend off to the Central Station. It rained very heavily on the way back, and I was drenched after walking for almost an hour in heavy rain. Was feverish when I got back, and I just slept the day through.

day 14..

2008-12-11T01:18:00.008+08:00

Shall backtrack to continue my posting. Day 14 was filled with just as much activity and of course, walking. We took a walk to the Hilton Hotel bus stop, but this time strolling by Bute Park rather than the outside streets. It was a really chilly day, and the grass had a blanket of ice covering it!

Among the tall trees, I've found this little stubby tree to be very, very cute..

That was the walk through the Bute park, we left through the exit near the College, and caught the bus to the Bay. Didn't take many photos of the bay, just this

... to show that snow melts when there's sunshine. See how half of the ice on the wood melts and the other half stays frozen? Quite amusing.

And this..
.. of the icy pond, such that when we throw stones, the stones skip, bounce, hop... and land on top of the "water" which is ice. (:

Continuing, we had a yummy chicken lunch at Nando's, ice cream at a creamery nearby, and then took the Baycar back to town where we managed to catch the 14.40 bus to St Fagan's Museum of Welsh Life.

Among the first things we saw once we exited the museum shop to enter into the museum was

eine Braun Kuh. It was happily chewing and chewing grass. Is it a brown cow with white patches or a white cow with brown patches? (;

Walking on, we came to a red house that was a farm house.

We stepped inside. It was all dark and creepy. There were no windows, and a strong smell of smoke because

they used charcoal fire to heat up the place! And everything was so, so narrow. Oh, here's proof that everything was made for people like me who are tall but not so very tall:

Look, I fit through the door perfectly without bumping my head! Ohh, and in case you're wondering where that lovely black trench coat on me came from, it was a belated 21st present from my visiting friend (: It's faux leather with fur inside. Really really gorgeous. But it makes me look stuffed up though =P

Brought Beep to see where his Welsh counterparts, then it was off to this white building, which was the St Teilo's Church that existed since the 1700s.

restored and whitewashed, of course. In it there were many many murals which told Bible stories. Can you indentify them?

There's Noah's ark on the top, and the story of the cruxifiction below it.
and that's Jesus getting the donkey, riding in on Passover, and then the Last Supper.
And here's one more of all the saints. My friend said that it's the easiest way to spread a religion, especially since "a picture paints a thousand words". It therefore transcends language (:

O tree, how tall are you?

Nothing much else, except more farm houses, little pottery shops and lush greenery which would look good in real life but boring in pictures.

Headed back for the day. I was beginning to get an inflammation in my left lymph node, and both of us were tired from all that walking. We caught the 1705 bus back and by the time we walked back to Severn Point, it was about 1900. I can't even remember if we had dinner, I think I cleaned up and went straight to bed.

2008-12-10T00:24:00.002+08:00

oh, the weather outside is frightful
and there's no fire that's delightful
my body aches with pain,
let it rain, let it rain, let it rain...

Been down with a fever and flu, which is why I haven't updated. I just awoke from a 23-hour sleep, feeling a little better than before. Will upload pictures when I'm better. If the weather permits, I'm off to Birmingham tomorrow for a day-trip, and then to Bristol on Saturday for Edward's concert.

day 13..

2008-12-06T21:10:00.013+08:00

After booking the 7.45am National Express to Chepstow, we had to wake up at 6am to prepare, and leave the apartment at 7 for the 45min walk to the interchange. We had a simple breakfast of ham and croissants, and packed buns for our brunch. It was still dark outside, but the sky looked clear. It looked as though there was going to be sunny weather throughout the day.

The bus was empty, and so were the roads. We got to Chepstow at about 0835Hrs, and we realized that the first bus of the day to Tintern Abbey was at 1010Hrs. So walked around we did, taking a couple of photos and shopping a little.

We entered this opening in the above-mentioned wall. It was quite scenic, on one side was ruins,
and on the other side was the Chepstow Castle.
It was quite a steep slope behind me, so I was quite cautious about slipping and rolling down the slope.
This photo shows the irony of the vast amount of space behind (the bench and the castle in the background) while the two tiny critters rest on the bench. (: And yes, I love my sheep.

Beep's birthday is also on the 4th of December, and he turned 7 two days ago! One of my best friends gave him to me, and he's been going everywhere with me ever since.

There was an amusing sign on the way out of the port wall:
so if a pet doesn't purr, does it not belong to Pam? Or does Pam only sell pets that purr?

Walking on into the city centre, there was a street market today which sold lots of art&craft. We also managed to find a Woolworth's store, which I got this from for 2 pounds:
Cute? It's a dog reindeer costume, and my Patches is going to be a reindeer this Christmas! There was a cat santa suit which I nearly bought for Pepper, but it was polyester and I was afraid that it'd be too warm for him. Such a pity that Woolworth's is closing after Christmas, they've been around for so long and they sold nice stuff!

Got onto the 1010Hrs bus to Tintern Abbey. It was about 15 minutes away from Chepstow, and the weather there was very different! It was much colder, so cold that there was a thin layer of ice on the ground, making it very slippery. Even the grass has a white layer of ice on it.

The Tintern Abbey was mostly ruins of a monastry, of which it was so ruined that we could hardly tell one room from another and its functions without the guide-signs around. I took loads of photos, but I'll just post one or two here.

A picture of the abbey from across the road

The highest arch up close
and my dear Beep with the ruins behind.

On the way towards the entrance we saw this:

Cool huh? Was brass really invented in UK?

On the way out, at the exit of the gift shop was this notice:

A promise auction! Some of the stuff auctioned were dog walking, yoga lessons, a plant of choice from a Nursery, and holidays! I've never seen stuff like that before.

We were just in time for the 1247 bus back to Chepstow. At Chepstow, we headed for the Castle first. It's the one in the photo above.

Today was Medieval Day! The castle had a troupe who "lived" out Medieval life inside the castle. There were tents pitched just like in medieval times, a guy who was an archer and a bow-maker, a castle musician who played welsh tunes on the medieval flute, recorder and dulcimer, a leg of lamb roasting above a fire, court jesters, weapons, knights and all.

Roasted lamb leg! We stood near it for the heat from the fire, and smelt all smoky for a while after that =P

All the tents were colour-coded and of different sizes.

This man was a bow-maker. He actually made those bows. He carried an assortment of weapons on him, from knives in his boots, to scissors and other knives on his waist-belt. He was attempting to teach me how to hold a bow.

This was a quiet little corner that was a medieval kitchen. The hole with smoke coming out of it is actually a fire- oven that uses charcoal, and there was meat roasting inside when we went! The ladies cleared the table of all modern-day stuff just for me to take the photograph, and everything else went...
under the table! :P

It was pretty cool, these people looked like they were all having fun, and were paid to do so! The weather was much better in summer, and they'd all be working on their bow-making or whatever in the sun. Because of the cold winter, they all stuck to walking around and talking instead.

We walked out of the "live exhibition" area, and went to explore the ruins of the castle.

Look, I fit into a crevice in the wall! (:

a VERY BIG tree.

This room was interesting. See the hole there? It's actually a toilet, with the hole leading right below to the Lake Wye.

Can't see the river clearly because of the light, but the hole goes straight down.

An attempt to look contemplative. With a huge red nose just like Rudolph the reindeer.

Remember this game we used to play, mum? (:

Visited the Chepstow Museum after that, as we had about 2 hours before the National Express took us back to Cardiff. The museum was full of things from the sixties, like a kitchen

with all the little labelled tins of bread, coffee, tea, sugar and spices on the top shelf, a stove on the right, and

a pretty English teacup on the table!

In the other parts of the museum was an exhibition of how the town developed, with

policemen uniforms (kuku, this one's for you!)

Cigars, pipes, sugar-cutters, hair curling tongs, charcoal irons and many many other things.
There was also a bear cupboard for children to bring along a bear with them as they walked through the museum. Suce a cute cuddly idea!

We walked back out to the main street. Looks like the Medieval people were out for a walk to see modern-day Chepstow! They posed with bottles of ale and their weapons at the street market.

and that's us, tired after 9 hours of walking, while waiting for the bus back to Cardiff. I'm exhausted, going to sleep for now. Cheers~

Beep finds a friend (:

2008-12-06T05:01:00.002+08:00

a friend visited from Birmingham, bringing a tiger that I gave him before he left. So Beep has a travel-buddy for this weekend (:

The beanies were from "Innocent" brand smoothies, and for every behatted bottle sold, 50pence will be donated to Age Concern, a fund that helps provide hot meals, blankets and heating advice for older people.

That's all for today, tomorrow we're going up to Chepstow and leaving at 7 in the morning. I'll take loads of pictures and upload them!

Facebook seems to crash everytime I try to upload photographs, so I'll do them back at home. Byeeee for now!

oneandtwenty.

2008-12-04T23:29:00.003+08:00

I've had a lovely day today (: It started off quite badly though, because I cut my thumb quite deeply when trying to cut a tomato for my croissant this morning. It bled so much I gave up making croissants and tried to have cereal instead. My milk had clotted! When I poured it onto the cereal it was sort of lumpy, like beancurd. Ewwww.. Had hot chocolate and an apple, and then read the boyfriend's letter. It was more of a poem, really, but it was touching (:

Music therapy class was alright this morning, it was someone else's twentyfirst too, and so when we were doing free improvisation the "happy birthday" theme kept popping up. Practiced a little, then went to town for a walk. Had to get new shoes, my shoe soles had completely worn out and water was getting into them! Today was a particularly rainy day, but it wasn't very cold. Spent an hour trying to find myself shoes, and I finally settled on this pair:

By that time, it was already 1, and I rushed back to school for double-reed ensemble, buying a big mac along the way. Double-reed ensemble was so fun! There was a total of 2 oboes, one honorary oboe (which was a clarinet), 2 English Horns, and 2 Bassoons. And it was such fun, playing Tom Wood's arrangements of Shrek, Lion King, Bohemian Rhapsody and other stuff. It was impressive how Tom and Harry decided to switch instruments (Harry played the bassoon and Tom, the English Horn) halfway. They both play the oboe, bassoon and english horn so well!

Went home to eat my soggy big mac and slept for an hour and a half, then it was off to meet Shing Min and her flatmates at 6 at College. Molly, Shell and I walked to school together, and while waiting for Shing Min, there were fireworks!! It was for some GB Rally thing that started today, but Molly said that the fireworks were in celebration of my birthday :P

Was supposed to attend the Ponce recital of guitar and harpsichord, but I didn't get tickets. Molly brought us to this lovely restaurant called ZeroDegrees, which was a microbrewery (kind of like Brewerkz). Their drinks were apparently good (we didn't drink), and their pizzas were awesome! We had Peking-duck pizza (trust me, it was good but had a unique taste), and a Tiger-prawn garlic pizza. We headed off to Marks&Spencer's after that, there was a 20% storewide discount only for today. Walked around a bit, and then headed home.

My flatmate Grace was so sweet, she baked me brownies, and stuck a huge "HAPPY BIRTHDAY from us xxx" on my door. I went over to Shing Min's to play Uno with her flatmates. It sure was fun! Reached home slightly before 11, and spent the rest of the time watching Sex and the City while having Lemon Meringue Pie (bought from M&S) and hot chocolate with Grace.

Thanks everyone for the birthday wishes! I'm truly blessed to have you all, and you have touched me in ways more than you can imagine. I love you guys (:

day 11...

2008-12-04T04:55:00.002+08:00

Didn't do much yesterday, just watched Mike's octet rehearsal and then practiced quite a lot. Had coffee with him at Starbucks, chatted a bit, then went back to practice more.

Today was much more eventful. Performance class from 9-11 this morning was more relevant, three oboists and a few bassoonists played. Gosh, they all played so well! Sarah Jenkins played from memory, and her rendition of the Haydn concerto was technically stunning but musically facile. It's just the nature of the concerto to repeat itself over and over and over again.. The bassoon duet at the end of class was nice, the bassoonists could work together really well, and their tone blended perfectly too.

Did some practice from 11-12, then met Alicia for lunch. Alicia is a third-year student in RWC, and she'll come over to Singapore to study in NAFA next July for an exchange (just like I did) before her academic year at RWC starts. She told me all about RWC, and I told her all about life in Singapore and college life at NAFA.

Attended the Woodwind Chamber lunchtime recital from 1-2. The Poulenc trio was not too bad, the flute trio was alright, and the octet played very well. Communication, coordination and intonation was good. I thought they did especially well in the last movement of the Mozart, the theme and variations.

Rushed to the improvisation lecture by Estonian guests from 2-2.30 (which was lousy and rubbish, the lecturer was plonking random notes on the piano and calling it improvisation; and he talked with his mouth closed), and then went for the semi-finals of the concerto competition. It lasted from 2.30 until 4-something. Some stunning performances, but none wow-ed all of us like the Elgar cello concerto played by Kyle Patterson. Technically proficient, and extremely musical, (but a little too fierce and arrogant at some places), his rendition of the Elgar was simply amazing. After he finished there was a pin-drop silence. Nobody stirred for a while. And then we all clapped loudly. With something that good, the rest after him would just be mediocre. Okay, maybe I'm biased. But his playing touched me so badly that tears were forming in my eyes.
3/4 of the audience left after the Elgar. I was one of them too, not only because I didn't want to hear the rest, but because my phone kept going. For the first time in my life, my dear brother wished me happy birthday! (: Thanks, Matt. *hugs* I left early to call him and the family.

Called Reuben on the way home. The boyfriend of mine is so sneaky. He stuffed dated letters in my luggage just as I was leaving, and there were 4 of them altogether, dated 24th and 29th Nov, and 4th and 11th Dec. It sure was a pleasant surprise (: So tomorrow's an open-letter day! I feel like a kid waiting for Christmas just to open presents.

Tomorrow's going to be exciting! Music therapy lecture on pallitive care in the morning, practice, double reed ensemble, more practice, and a Ponce harpsichord and guitar recital at night! Then it's either Uno with Shing Min and her flatmates, or off to the pub with my flatmates.

day 9...

2008-12-02T02:42:00.000+08:00

Today started off quite late. Because the curtains are drawn and the lights are off, I have absolutely no idea what time of the day it is! The alarm rang at 7, I shut it off and slept until about 8.30. Lazed around in bed a bit more, packed my bag for school and went out to make breakfast. Grace cleaned up the kitchen all by herself! Made her a croissant, packed lunch and headed out for oboe lesson.

Lesson today was good! I played a little better than I'd expected. The running notes for the Mozart were definitely better than yesterday's practice session. Sandy was at the dentist's this morning before my lesson, and the dentist told him not to play for an hour after the visit. He played the opening of the Mozart for me anyway, defying his dentist's orders, and the tooth crown came out! And so he kept it in his reed box, and carried on playing whenever he wanted to demonstrate something. We worked through the whole of the first movement, and a little of the third. Then we did the Vivaldi. He asked me why I was playing it, and I told him it was because I liked it. He then said, "Just last week I sat in for the auditions, and someone played this. I felt like it seemed to go on and on and on forever! Don't know if its because of the way she played or the nature of the piece." He's so funny. He asked me to get the Gillet studies, and practice those. I think he'll bring a copy for me next week. 25 pounds! Expensive.. I'll have to ornament the second movement of the Vivaldi, do the third movement of the Mozart, and practice the six metamorphoses. All by friday. That's loads to be done!

Watched a harpsichord recital at 1.05 in the Corus Room. My second Baroque concert, and I loved it! The harpsichord was tuned a semitone flat though, so it kind of ruined my sense of key because of my perfect pitch. The harpsichord itself was much more elaborate than NAFA's old one, it had two manuals and more keys! Repertoire for the concert was works by the Bach family, J.S. Bach, C.P.E Bach and W.F. Bach. The harpsichordist was Despina Homatidou, a graduate from the RWC and GSDM. Her sensitivity was amazing, and her technique just as good. She switched effortlessly among the two manuals without disrupting the flow or sounding abrupt.

I went for Orchestral Repertoire class from 4-5.30. It was interesting. People from the woodwind section would take turns to attend orchestral rep class, and each class would be like a sectional session where we read through pieces that were difficult for a woodwind section. Today we did Leonore Overture and Rossini's Barber of Seville Overture. Fun (:

That's it for now. I'm tired. Nights!

day 8..

2008-12-01T03:29:00.013+08:00

It's finally sunday! (: Shing Min brought me to Cardiff Bay Barrage and the area around it this morning. It was a cold day, but lots of walking helped keep us warm. We set off from Severn Point at 9 in the morning, caught the 9.36 bus from the Hilton Hotel (which was 30min walk away), and got there at about 9.45.

That's the Millenium Centre. It says in English, In These Horizons Stones Sing. It was closed at that time, so I took a picture of it and we walked on.

That's a shiny metal thing that's outside the Millenium Centre. I later realized that it was a fountain that wasn't on yet. Shing Min says we look like sticks in this photo.

We walked around, and I was impressed by the amount of open space there was.

There's a red brick building. The tourist map didn't say what it is, but because it's red it stands out from the other buildings.

The name says it all (: I just love his books! I think I read all of them. I liked Matilda the best, and I would always dream of what it'd be like to be in a giant Chocolate Factory that Charlie was in and wake up hungry..

This marks the beginning of some trail/path thing that goes round all the way to Penarth and Brecon.

That's a sculpture. The oval thing behind it is called the Tube, it's the visitor's centre. It was closed at that time.

Walking a bit more, we reached the Norwegian Church Arts Centre. A pity that the art gallery was closed due to a meeting, but we were in for a surprise - there was a Christmas Sale going on just for today, and it was like a flea market thing in the small enclosed space. There was mostly art and craft, Christmas cards, notepads and stone jewellery for sale.

Everything else was closed and the place was very empty, save for a few people who were up taking morning walks/cycles. We headed on to the Barrage area. A sign said that the walk would be about 2km - 20min long.

There at the entrance of the barrage was a gate and a long wall. Someone stick words all around, and made it look like a Magnetic Words type of board.

a section of the wall

It lasted for quite a long stretch. Here's the whole wall:

The first part of the walk wasn't very nice. There's a fence on both the left and the right, and a path that goes forward. With the whole place fenced, it looked like we were walking in some concentration camp. Then later on, we came to a place which showed the development of the coal industry. Cardiff Bay used to be a place where coal was mined and shipped.

This is what they use to get the coal out, and
this is the structure of the land. The white dragon-like thing is just a mascot for Wales.

Can see E=mc2?

Then there's this, which is a cart that transports the coal. I vaguely remember sitting a roller coaster in Genting Highlands where we sat in these cart-like things and went really fast..

We carried on walking. The vast expanse of the sea and the stones was stunning. Along the way, we saw cute furry plants that were taller than us!

The sun was just beginning to awaken from its sleep.

This marked the start of the Cardiff Bay Barrage. We saw two ladies, who were so kind as to take a photograph for the both of us.

The sun was fully up by now, and the scenery was much, much nicer.

Look at the contrast! Green grass, blue sea and blue sky.. Lovely, isn't it?
There were many people who brought their dogs out, and their dogs were running around unleashed. I think Patches would enjoy running around ;P

There's an anchor on the ground, I think it's life-sized. I've never seen one before, and it's much bigger than I imagined it to be!
That's a photo of a happy dog. It was playing fetch with its owner. Its owner couldn't really be bothered with it, but it was still happy to be out nonetheless (: It was so clever! It would take the stick and bring it to the owner and ask the owner to throw it.

I didn't take any pictures of the Barrage as it was getting too cold and windy, but i'm going again two more times so I promise pictures by then!

We walked back to the Cardiff Bay area, which was more lively by now. The visitor centre was open, and we went in to have a look. There was also a free choir performance which we caught in the Millenium Centre foyer. Had Nando's chicken for lunch, first time I've ever tried Sweet Potato Mash. Yummm! The mango and lime chicken was a bit too sour for my liking but it was tender and not charred.

Headed back to town in the Baycar (bus). I went shopping at Primark, a budget clothes store (kind of like This Fashion in Singapore). Bought a wool top for 4 pounds, and a lovely black corset and velvet skirt. Yayy! Now I've got something to wear the next time I go out at night (:

Total damage done:
13pounds - Black corset top
5 pounds - Skirt
4 pounds - wool top (not in picture)

This shows a little area where people can sit down or walk around. The plants are nicely trimmed. The statue over there is that of Lord Bute.

It was starting to get dark, so I made my way back to Severn Point.
There's the winter wonderland (which I still haven't gone to) and the National Museum.

And here's a not-very-clear picture of the College. There are two blocks, the one shown in the picture is the older building. It's long and brown. The new building, called the Anthony Hopkins centre, was part of the Castle (or so people say). It is confusing because it looks the same on all four sides! Will take pictures if I get the chance to.

Got home about 4.30, and practiced for an hour. Left the house for church at 6.40, and I attended a church near my place. It was a tiny little church, and there were only a few people who attended the evening service due to bad traffic. It was quite strange, because they'd sing hymns and songs and say "Praise the Lord!" after every hymn or after every statement people said. I think they all said "Praise the Lord" at least two hundred times in that short evening service of 1.5 hours. Service ended a bit late, headed to the pub next to the church to meet my flatmates. Only one was there, but her friends were there with her. They're all from College, so I knew some of them. I was famished, but it seemed as though the pub wasn't serving any more dinner. Sat around for a bit, then walked home to cook dinner. A person asked me if Singapore was in Japan, another thought that Singapore was in Shanghai! Apparently our little island isn't well known enough :( A pity I missed the afternoon's match that Manchester United played in.. They won, so i'm not complaining (:

I watched my first rugby match on TV yesterday. Wales vs Australia. Wales won. My flatmates were happy, but I knew an Australian friend wasn't..

Tired! I'll have oboe lesson with Sandy at 11 tomorrow morning. I do hope I can wake up!

Day 6 and 7...

2008-11-30T03:17:00.002+08:00

were uneventful. Went shopping in Tesco's this morning with Shing Min's flatmates, practiced, cooked lunch, practiced, watched anime and practiced more. Such a nice lazy Saturday.

Yesterday was a bit better. Attended two concerts and one performance class (which was kind of like a concert). So it was concert in the morning, noon and evening. The standard of performance class is very high, and almost no mistakes are made. Practiced a little after that, and got chased out of the practice room by a teacher. Proceeded to the Library then, and spent the time reading Kafka's Castle. A pity that I can't borrow it yet, I'll just have to wait for my library card. Either that or keep returning to the library to read. Left the library at 1 for Chen Jiafeng's violin recital in the Weston Gallery.

He played Bach, Ravel's Sonata, Paganini's La Campanella and Caprice number 24, and Wienawski's Variations. It's the first time I've seen someone play double stopped harmonics and tenths. His intonation, technique and tone was perfect. The way he manipulated the bow to get the sound he wanted, and even the balance in the Bach during the double stops, especially in the Fugue was stunning. He brought out certain voices, kept others down, and played everything with ease and panache. Better still, Chen was only 21!! My age!! He's won so many international competitions... Gosh.

At night I went to St David's hall to watch the Orchestra Europa in their debut concert. They were all good players, but the Dvorak 9th wasn't as good as I'd expected it. The Cor Anglais solo was superb though. The conductor was Russian, and he was trained in St Petersburg. I thought he conducted a lot like Lan Shui! It was interesting to watch him dance on stage, sculpturing the music with his animated gestures. Much to my surprise, eating was allowed in the concert halls! (you just had to be silent). Programme booklets cost 2.50 pounds! So expensive.

Walking back from the concert was an absolute battle. I've never felt so cold before! There was heavy fog, and the wind was blowing soooooo strongly.. We couldn't see more than 50m ahead of us. Got home in one piece in the end, thank God.

Tomorrow's a sunday! Shing Min's taking me to Cardiff Bay in the morning, then perhaps a walk in Bute Park before practicing in school. And maybe the Winter Wonderland in the evening if her flatmates are up to it (: Can't wait to get out there and take pictures!

day 5.. (and a bit of what happened yesterday)

2008-11-27T17:19:00.000+08:00

Today's a cold and rainy day. The rain here is fine, not like in Singapore with huge raindrops pattering down on you. But it's awfully cold!

I'm blogging much earlier today because I'm attending a Wind Orchestra concert tonight, conducted by Tim Reynish. It starts at 7.30, it'll probably end late. Today was rather eventful. I attended the 2nd last Music Therapy lecture of the term this morning from 9 to 11. Today's topic was Autism, but everything was covered in greater detail in last year's Introduction to MT lectures at NAFA. The second part of the lecture was interesting though. We did about 45 minutes of spontaneous music making, just like what happens in group therapy sessions. Percussion instruments (cymbal, chimes, xylophones, drums) were out of the cupboard and laid on the floor in the middle. Each of us grabbed an instrument and just started playing whatever on it. The lecturer sat at the piano and plonked away. It took quite some time and it was messy at first, but it settled into patterns of fast and slow, loud and soft. The two hours went by fast!

After that it was off to a practice room for more work on the Mozart. Managed to play through the second movement and do a bit of work on the first. I still don't dare to touch the third, not when the first isn't perfect. Sandy says that within the first three lines people can tell whether you're worth listening to or not, so he asked me to just do lots of work in the first three lines.

Practice was short because there was a baroque violin recital going on in the Corus room at 1.05. My first Baroque concert ever! There was a harpsichord/organ player, a viola da gamba player, and two baroque violinists. I was practically in heaven for that hour. Nice instruments, and fantastic music. The harpsichord could practically swallow NAFA's one up. The organ was also a pipe organ, not an electric one like NAFA's. The programme for the concert was German baroque, contrasting the early works of Biber and Boeddecker with that of Bach's. The last piece was interesting, it was called Delices des cremiers, supposedly named after delicious cheese that the two violin soloists bought for dinner on Saturday, and it was sure cheesy! It was composed by the harpsichord/organ player, and the harmonies were like that of Poulenc but the piece had baroque elements like suspensions.

I walked into town to do a bit of shopping for much-needed shoes and gloves. My orange sneakers were wearing out, and the soles were flat. Water also got in very easily. With today's bad weather, my socks were practically soaked and my feet were freezing. I've heard about the budget shop Shoezone and how good and cheap the shoes were from friends. Managed to find a shop here, and...

my new boots!

Pretty? They cost 12.99 pounds. Seems like a small number, but when converted back into our currency... that should be about $30. Not bad, I reckon. Quality seems quite good too, but I'll never know unless I test them. SO, while my orange sneakers are wet, these boots are going a-walkin' with me to tonight's concert (:

I dropped a glove on my way to school two days ago, and I didn't realize it until I couldn't find it. I saw it on the pavement yesterday though, trodden on and filthy, and decided not to pick it up. Walked around the shops trying to find a cheap pair of gloves, and was about to settle for a brown 10pound pair in Animal when I saw this in a sports shop:

NICE RIGHT!!!!! The kiasu singaporean in me emerges at the sight of 70% off, and better still, it cost 3 pounds. With a nice United crest on it too!

I found St David's Hall in town and went there to purchase a ticket for tomorrow night's concert. It's the Orchestra Europa on tour, I think. Ticket cost 1 pound for students of RWCMD (: Repertoire's quite nice too, I hope the concert will be good.

Had a Quarter Pounder at Mac's for lunch and then headed back. The rain was getting so heavy that I had to stuff my oboe case in my winter jacket, zip it up and then carry my backpack over it. Can't be bothered to use an umbrella, because that would mean more things to hold. With the strong wind blowing as well, I don't think my super cheap SGD$5 would stand a chance against it!

I'll need to wash my hair because of the rain :( Showers here are terrible. Sometimes you get nice hot water from the shower, and then when someone in another room starts to shower, suddenly there's no more hot water anymore and the water becomes freeeeezing! Such unpredictable showers..

Yesterday wasn't as interesting as today. I had no classes, so I took the opportunity to go walking. I went to College, watched Mike's octet rehearsal, then walked Sarah to the train station which was in town. Wandered around town, looked around the museum, then walked back to College. I tried to find the Church of St. Teilo's, where today's concert is going to be held. Got lost, walked more, met a couple of english Jehovah witness' ladies who tried to speak chinese to me (which I didn't understand because of the funny slang) and ask me along for bible study classes at the JW centre on monday nights. These bible study sessions were specially for chinese, and were conducted in chinese. They just had to stop me when it was getting dark, talked for so long that it got dark already, leaving me to find the rest of my journey to St Teilo's in the dark. I finally found it, but the door was locked, so I walked home.

Cooked instant noodles (yet again, yes) for dinner. The common area was sure rowdy yesterday! It was like a shouting match, everyone complaining that everyone didnt do dishes, and they were blaming each other. It was good-natured though, fun, but LOUD. Aidan had to go to St Teilo's for the Concertango rehearsal, so I tagged along. It was the shortest rehearsal ever! It started at 7 and by 7.15 everything was over and all were packing up!

It's now 5.30 here, I've got to take my chance with the shower ( i hope there's hot water!!!), cook dinner and then leave for the concert at St Teilo's. Till next time! (:

day 3..

2008-11-25T20:39:00.000+08:00

Met up with John Reynolds this morning, and he whisked me away to the third year's Teaching Skills class. There were just eight or nine in the class, and we sat in a circle talking about today's topic - intonation. An interesting question was also addressed:

Imagine you're playing second clarinet in the orchestra. Your part is in unison with the first flute, and in harmony (thirds/sixes or whatever) with the first clarinet. The first clarinet is a little sharp. Do you play relative to the first clarinet (which means you'll be sharper than the first flute) or in tune with the first flute and off pitch with the first clarinet?

Go figure!

I bumped (literally) into Timothy Reynish this morning when I was looking for John in his office. Chatted with him a little, and he spoke quite highly of Singapore and the Phil Winds!! (: He's here to conduct a wind orchestra concert this thursday in a concert. I sat in Tim Reynish's rehearsal in St Teilo's church after Teaching Skills class, and it was interesting to watch. For starters, the wind orchestra is double or even triple the size of NAFA's. There were 4 oboes, 1 english horn, 12 clarinets, 9 flutes and 5 bassoons just for woodwinds alone!

The church of St Teilo is beautiful. It's old, small but spacious, and with nice stained glass on the walls. To the left is a pipe organ, tucked into the side. The high celing provides good acoustics and the band sounds gorgeous there. Tim was in quite a bad mood today, and I thought that he was being quite sarcastic to some of them. :( The music they played wasn't very tonal either, and some of it sounded plain weird. Will be watching their concert this thursday. I hope it'll be good!

Now I know why Nicholas Daniels can't teach me in Trossingen. He wasn't around because...

he was in Birmingham for Loree Oboe day! Cool or what? (: Anyway, I had my first lesson with Sandy today, playing the XL because a stubborn bit of oboe swab was still stuck. He got most of the swab out by cutting it first, and then using a hammer and pin (!!!!!) to force out the rest. Sandy learnt the Mozart under Heinz Holliger, so what I'm getting from him is a second-hand version of Holliger!! Exciting (: I hope to finish the whole of the Mozart during my stay here. Maybe Carolyn will let me do it in my final recital, instead of the dreadful and long Holzbauer. Sandy was quite understanding, he let me play the second movement while he was taking that bit of swab out because he knew i needed time to think of which fingerings to use on the thumbplate. The tempo he recommends for the second movement is much faster than anything I've ever heard, but his interpretation makes sense so I'll practice that for this week and see how it turns out. He changed quite a lot of the articulation for the first movement, so I'll have to practice it differently too. Next lesson's on monday at 11am. Shall see how it goes and what he says.

Here's the view from the room I had lesson in. It overlooks the tennis centre, and the leaves littering the path look so pretty! Beep's getting a bit too scruffy and dirty, I think I might have to give him a bath soon.

I hung around for a bit after my lesson but my lips got too tired of practicing that I decided to walk back. Had the intention of walking to Tesco's but it was too far and the sky was getting dark. Settled for a mama-shop a 15 min walk away from my place, and I was surprised to find that they sold maggi mee and koka cup noodles! Bought some milk and cereal for tomorrow's breakfast, as well as chips and chocolates for snacking on. I got myself a Subway meatball sandwich on the way back. The Subway shops here are similar to Singapore's, but they have sweet corn and grated carrots as part of the vegetable selection, and three different cheeses!

It was all slimy and soggy by the time I ate it, but it still tasted alright.

While the rest of us had instant/boring food, flatmate Royce cooked an elaborate dinner for himself today! We just had to take a picture of his concoction. It was like a rojak of vegetable, sausages, egg, bacon, rice in sauce.. Interesting.

I've mentioned that my journey to school is a 10-15 min walk, I'll now describe some of it. There's a huge place called the Nazareth House, it looks old and spooky and huge. On the way there's also a Christian Science church. I wonder what goes on in there. Here's a picture of it.

It's not very clear, but you should be able to make out the words Christian Science Church. In the window there's this wooden pyramid thing formed by a few poles and some items. Will see if I can get a close-up shot of it without people staring at me soon! Also on the way is Bute Park, apparently the second largest park in the world after Central Park in NY, and there's a lane leading into a section of the park where the Ambulance base is located. Ambulances move in and out, so extra care has to be taken when crossing that lane. It gets a little irritating when the ambulance comes out of the lane when you're walking past it, and then switches on its siren when its right behind or beside you. It happened to me once, and I literally jumped in shock. Sometimes I think they do it on purpose to poor, unsuspecting students =P

I've been sleeping much better now, having gotten used to the rumbling of the train outside my window. I need to shop for groceries tomorrow! Everything' so expensive here, packing our own food for meals is the cheapest. I've packed sandwiches and fruit for lunch the past two days, but I've now run out of bread rolls and ham :( Tomorrow shall be practice day as I've got no classes. Maybe I can sleep in, practice for two hours or so in the morning, go shopping, get back and do more practice.

Oh, and if you're a reader of this blog, please drop by and say hi by leaving a comment! Knowing that there are people reading this motivates me to blog (:

2008-11-25T07:16:00.001+08:00

Such amazing footwork! And connection too...

powerful.

i wanna be able to dance like that!

day 2...

2008-11-25T04:51:00.009+08:00

I arrived at the College at 10 this morning, and met Zoe Smith (the person who wrote the email letter two entries ago), who was the assistant director of music at the college. She's a real nice lady, but she always seems to be in a hurry - dashing off somewhere, rushing something. She was sweet enough to show me around the old building, and introduced me to some of the 'important people'. She also wrote me a piece of paper which said something along the lines of, "Natalie Ng is an International Exchange student at the College awaiting her student pass. She should be allowed full use of the facilities here." Nice! (:

One of the professors commented that I spoke excellent english, and questioned where I learnt it. Of course, Singapore lah! He was surprised. Perhaps he thought that Chinese spoke funny english. Or maybe he thought I was from China. It's so irritating having to speak proper english here so the people can understand. It's like I have to put on a silly British slang! Shing Min's the only one whom I can speak our national language (singlish) to, and it seems as though she's happy that I'm around for the same reason.

Having an hour and a half to kill before meeting with my Oboe professor, I visited the College library today. It was exactly how I envisioned it to be - old, dusty, with a musty smell of books and yellow papers - and only much, much better. There must be hundreds of books and thousands of periodicals and journals! The shelves stretch from floor to celing, and there are little ladders and stools for us to stand on to reach the books on higher shelves. The collection of scores and audio-visual materials was fascinating too! Just the oboe books alone would have outnumbered NAFA's woodwind books any day. There were books of prose, poetry, theatre plays and dance aplenty as well. I buried myself in Sir Charles Burney's Music, Men and Manners in France and Italy 1770 for that hour, accompanied by the sounds of Bach's Cello Suites. His music critiques were witty and entertaining, and such a delight to read. However, with every music critique he wrote came another 10 pages complaining of the weather, the poor food, court organists who publicly kept mistresses, and poor service. He complained so much that it got really irritating after a while.

I got lost countless times before finally finding the room where my oboe teacher taught. He's Murray Johnston, but we call him Sandy. My swab got stuck in the top joint yesterday afternoon while practicing, and tried as I could, it remained stuck. I took it to him today, and he spent close to an hour but it still didn't budge! Cardiff doesn't have any good woodwind repairs, and he almost sent me to another town by train to get it out. He took it home to see what he could do with it, and he lent me his new oboe, a Howarth XL (yes, THE howarth xl that Carolyn wouldn't let me buy). It was a thumbplate system :( Everyone in the UK uses a thumbplate, and he said that I was the first one he's teaching to use a french system oboe. When asked what I should prepare for lesson, he looked through my books and said, "Let's do the Mozart." And so I had to learn the Mozart concerto on a thumbplate oboe! Getting used to the thumbplate was one very difficult thing to do. String players, just imagine that one string is tuned a tone lower or something. Or pianists, imagine that the F# key was switched with the B-flat. See what I mean now??

the view from the first practice room

the view from the second practice room. this time it's smaller, but just as nice

The rooms here are lovely. We can open the windows for ventilation (natural fresh air and it's like air-conditioning because of the temperature in winter), and the view outside shows trees with green leaves, yellow leaves, and brown leaves on the ground. Pretty!

I practiced until I got chased out of a practice room. Found another one and practiced more until my upper lip got cut (in the cold I think the skin gets more sensitive and therefore gets injured faster), then I decided that I'd go for a walk.

Today's weather was gorgeous - the sun was shining, it's a lovely day.. (shuu- avenue q? =P) I walked from the College, past the back of the Cardiff Castle, and into town. Sandy says that the Cardiff Castle is a fake. It was built around 200 years ago, not like the others which were thousands of years old.

the back gate to the castle. it's surrounded by a moat!

closed. and locked. even Beep can't get in.

The castle seemed closed (I only found out that it was the back much later), so I walked on ahead towards the town. Everything looks so neat and tidy, it's as though I've stepped into a picture book.

Rows of shops lined the streets, very much unlike Singapore where shops are stacked on top of one another in buildings. Checked out some shops with the intention of buying shoes, but haven't found any suitably priced yet. I ate my lunch, consisting of a sandwich and an apple packed from home, wandered around a bit more, bought a hot chocolate from Starbucks and then headed back to school for practice until 4. The situation here is a little different from NAFA's. The charts come out at 7.30am and everyone scrambles to book a room early. By 9am there's almost no space left.

Met up with Shing Min and walked back with her. Her hall's much neater than mine because it's a post-grad block. Post-grad = less rowdy and neater. I got to know her flat-mate, Michelle, and after dropping my stuff in my room we set out for school again, for a cello recital by Penny Driver, one of the faculty. It wasn't particularly good, but it was interesting. The way back after the recital can only be described with one word - COLD. Freezing, in fact.

Cooked a simple dinner of instant noodles, veg and sausages. A nice warm meal (: I'm meeting the head of woodwind studies tomorrow morning to get my classes sorted out, and then having an oboe lesson at 2 with Sandy. I'd better practise a little more before turning in tonight. It's the Mozart concerto on a thumbplate oboe! *groan* That's all for now (:

xoxo

ps. to all those who have been keeping me in prayer, thank you very very much! this morning's bible reading and devotion stressed the importance of prayer, and how we feel uplifted just by knowing that loved ones are praying for us. thanks again, i love you all (:

day 1..

2008-11-24T02:46:00.011+08:00

Hello from Cardiff! I'm happily blogging from my little room in Severn Point, a 10-min walk away from the College.

The journey here wasn't as smooth-sailing as I thought it'd be, but I'm thankful that the Lord has been faithful and provided for each situation. Someone once said that if anything can go wrong, it probably would. How right that person was! As I touched down in Bangkok, I realized that my ticket to London said that the flight was on 23rd November at 2335HRS. It was 2200HRS then, and if the boarding pass had been correct, that would have meant spending a day at the airport in transit! Then there was the problem of spelling. My name was misspelt on the boarding pass (but the Singapore immigration didn't notice), and I was afraid that I wouldn't be let on the flight. The Thais didn't speak good english as well, and this was yet another problem! And so I made my way to the counter to ask, and walked (far!!) to the transit lounge. The staff there were nice, they settled the problem of the spelling for me. The flight was due to depart at 0035, so I had an hour to wait around.

The plane ride to London was long, and there wasn't any in-flight entertainment as it was an old plane. 13 hours of boredom. I slept fitfully, and stayed awake most of the time, reading or staring out of the window. Even going to the toilet was difficult as it would mean waking the neighbouring passengers to pass through.

After what seemed like an endless 13 hours of waiting, we landed at Heathrow Airport, London at 0600HRS. The view just before landing was absolutely magnificent. To see lights lining the streets of London, and the colourful circle of lights which lit up the London Eye.. Simply amazing. (look towards the top of the photo, in the centre)

The luggage came out after a long wait, but thank God I cleared customs quickly. The signs to the Central Bus Station were quite easy to follow. I was in a queue for a coach ticket to Cardiff, and the lady working there said that there was a coach which left in 5 minutes. She held the coach up for me and I made my way there. I would have to wait another hour for the next coach otherwise =P

That's Matt from Bristol (and Beep the sheep. You'll find Beep in other places in this entry), whom I got to know on the coach. It was gloomy and rainy.

Bristol, with its brown buildings. Just when I thought the day was going to stay like that, the weather brightened up.

It was still raining, but there was a bit of sunshine (: And Beep the beady sheep continues his travels.

Newport. One stop (approx 15 min) away from Cardiff. I reached Cardiff at 10.40, and Shing Min was there to pick me up. She brought me to Severn Point, where I 'checked-in', and then it was off to Tesco's (huge departmental store, kind of like Carrefour) for grocery shopping! I bought food, a duvet and a pillow. The walk there was scenic, and we had to walk through a park. It was super stressful at the cashier's! We're expected to pack our own goods, and all the cashier does is to scan and push it aside. With the long queue behind, it sure can get quite pressurizing..

Headed back to Severn Point after that, unpacked and laid out the bed sheets.

Much more comfy (: Spot the sheep! That's my bed. So here's what my room looks like:

The table and the bed. The bathroom's attached and the kitchen and living area is shared with the other flatmates.

Right now it's 8pm, I haven't slept for the past 24 hours! School starts tomorrow at 10am. Going to get a good rest now. Nights~! (:

2008-11-18T21:56:00.003+08:00

and I still don't like her version of the Chaconne after 2 listenings. But I'm sure it isn't that widely disliked...

Off to Cardiff, Wales..

2008-11-18T21:38:00.002+08:00

A letter in the email said:

Dear Natalie,

STUDY PERIOD AT THE ROYAL WELSH COLLEGE OF MUSIC AND DRAMA

I am delighted to send a letter of confirmation for your study period at the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama. We are able to accept you as a student on a short study period, from Monday 24^th November to Friday 12^th December (the end of term).

We very much look forward to welcoming you to Cardiff. You will be receiving oboe lessons and participating in a range of woodwind classes, as well as being able to attend concerts inside and outside College.

Please do not hesitate to contact me if you need any further information.

I look forward to meeting you soon.

Yours sincerely,

***

Off to Cardiff! I'll be all alone for the next four weeks or so. But I'm excited! Lots of oboe-playing, learning, new friends and perhaps, snow! I'm so excited! But first, assignments to complete and a 3-hour exam tomorrow. *groan*

Concert!

2008-11-04T00:16:00.005+08:00

I would perpetuate those nymphs.
Their rosy
Bloom's so light, it floats upon air drowsy
With heavy sleep.
Was it a dream?

Concert in 20 hours' time.

Repertoire:

Prelude to the afternoon of a faun - Debussy [ with the NAFA Dance department]
Reminiscences of Yun Nan (Zhong Ruan concerto) - Liu Xing
Le Tombeau de Couperin - Ravel
Bolero - Ravel

Killer programme with super difficult oboe parts! I'll be playing mostly Cor Anglais for the concert.
4 Nov 2008, 8pm
NAFA Theatre.
Admission is free.

1/3 (or less) of my dream oboe..

2008-10-04T14:05:00.003+08:00

Teacher says I'm not allowed to get an XL. She describes it as a "tank-oboe" as compared to my "toy-oboe" Carbart. If I can't get a Howarth oboe, at least I've got a Howarth bell (:

Showed my Howarth bell to Jeremy. He said, "Cool, I've got a Loree one too!" and took his out.

"Wahahaha. Mine's bigger. Maybe Howarth oboes need much more wood, that's why the bell keychains use less wood =P"

Zzz. I'm still searching for a good oboe. Any to recommend?

Interesting commercial (:

2008-09-21T22:23:00.004+08:00

Introduced by LY. Superbowl NFL commercial. Chester Pitts plays the oboe pretty well! It's kind of a pity that he turned to football instead =X

2008-09-09T21:54:00.001+08:00

"If I ever meet Mozart, I'll have A LOT to say to him.."

- Conductor Volker Hartung, on the (highly repetitive and boring) viola parts in Don Giovanni during our rehearsal today.

Two incidents..

2008-09-06T00:55:00.003+08:00

#1:

Worked on the Holzbauer third movement during oboe lesson that day. While in the middle of a technical passage, the teacher said, "You've got to play with more LOVE, girl! Dig deep inside of you and find all the love you can get."

Seriously!

#2:

The new bassoonist in year 1 is from China, he doesn't speak a word of English. we asked him to join our quintet. This happened on monday in the lift after band rehearsal:

Me: Uh... (in my half-baked chinese) Hey, tomorrow we've got... uh....
(shucks i forgot how to say 'rehearsal' in chinese!)
Him: hmm? (questioning glance)
Me: Hmm.. Am morgen haben wir Quintett üben.
Him: Ach, wie spät?
...

and we continued the conversation in german. -.-!!

On Practicing...

2008-09-06T00:33:00.004+08:00

Got this off an email from a friend:

Why some people do not find practice boring:

For the superior performer, the goal isn't just repeating the same thing again and again but achieving higher levels of control over every aspect of their performance. That's why they don't find practice boring. Each practice session they are working on doing something better than they did the last time."

So it's not just how long they practice, it's how they practice. Basically, it comes down to something like this:

Most of us want to practice the things we're already good at, and avoid the things we suck at. We stay average or intermediate amateurs forever.

read the rest of the article here.

Like what the article mentions : the most troubling and where we have the most leverage is with the amateur who are satisfied with where they are:

But the most troubling--and where we have the most leverage--is with the amateur who is satisfied with where they are. These are the folks who you overhear saying, Yes, I know there's a better way to do this thing, but I already know how to do it this [less efficient, less powerful] way and it's easy for me to just keep doing it like that." In other words, they made it past the suck threshold, but now they don't want to push for new skills and capabilities. They don't want to suck again. But that means they'll never get past the kick-ass threshold where there's a much greater chance they'll become passionate about it

Remember, being better is better. Whatever you're better at becomes more fun, more satisfying, a richer experience, and it leads to more flow.

Such a good wake-up call. I should really change my practice habits! Been practicing my Chopin etude much more these few days, at least one-and-a-half hours a day from 10.30pm-12am. I'm fortunate to have neighbours who don't complain (:

Reeds have been temperamental as usual, with the rainy weather and all. Am still overwhelmed by the amount of work/practice/rehearsals I have!

NAFA Symposium 2008: New Asian Imaginations

2008-08-03T21:08:00.002+08:00

A two-day long symposium with 22 thought-provoking lectures by international artists across various disciplines; artists, theatre specialists, a chinese opera specialist dancers, an art historian, music curators, lecturers, etc..

Some interesting points raised:

"But when forms are subverted and accepted rules and principles abandoned, by what criteria are we to judge the work? Many critics today avoid this challenge by simply describing what the artist does, for a balue judgement is thought to be purely subjective. Express a critical opinion and you'll be told 'that's only what you think.' The result is that today 'anything goes', so long as it is exhibited or performed."

- Art historian Michael Sullivan, in his Keynote paper which opened the symposium.

If that is true, what then, is the role of the critic? The critic, I quote from a recent reading given to me in class last week, " is a teacher of appreciation at the highest level." He is also "an informed music (or art) lover writing for other music (art) lovers." In other words, I believe that a critic should write about the work fairly and objectively.

Michael Sullivan continues writing:

"To appreciate a Rembrandt self-portrait, or a Beethoven Sonata, we not need to look for the idea or meaning behind it. The meaning is the work itself."

I disagree. Then what about interpretation? A Beethoven Sonata, as interpreted by different pianists, would sound different. There would be many ideas, many meanings and many opinions. Variations of tempi, dynamics and articulation. Music appreciation is dependent on two factors - the performer(s) and the composer. In a sense, the interpretation is no longer fully the composer's. However, in some cases, even if the composer is performing the work, he might find someone else's performance of his work better than his own. So here comes the critic's role. He writes so that we know what to listen for. He connects the composer and performer with the listeners such that we all get something out of the performance.

However, I think this is not so for art. Perhaps art is better appreciated "straight from the source", with that being from the artist's brush. Most of art is also left to our imagination and perception. Perhaps Goethe's "Bilde, Künstler! Rede nicht!" is true after all.

The first week of school..

2008-07-29T12:05:00.005+08:00

.. has come and gone. Modules have been confirmed, and homework has been given. I'll be doing

Research Project ( a 6000-word essay, probably on Music Therapy),
Music Criticism ( a 1500 - word essay and two other shorter papers) and
International Exchange (hopefully to a school in Mannheim, with two 1250-word essays plus journals).

Loads and loads of writing to do. As I was telling Jeff the other day, it's such a joy to write about music, until it becomes homework. With deadlines and grades, writing becomes a chore.

Upcoming orchestral repertoire includes Dvorak 8th Symphony, Chopin's first piano concerto, and maybe later on Mahler's Das Lied von der Erde. We sight-read through the Dvorak 8th on mon and wed, and I can conclude that Dvorak hated second oboists/english horn players. He wrote only 2-and-a-half bars for the EH in the whole symphony! That means bringing both the oboe and the EH to rehearsals, setting them up, soaking reeds and tuning both instruments...

and only playing the EH for that two bars.

dipAB piano exam is on the 6th. I hope I make it through.

2008 Bayreuther Festspiele

2008-07-24T20:39:00.003+08:00

The time of the year when all night activities come to a standstill, for the sake of catching live broadcasts of Wagner's operas live from Bayreuth. This year's programme runs from the 25th of July to the 28th of August.

Here are the festival dates:

Friday	25 July	Parsifal I
Saturday	26 July	Tristan I
Sunday	27 July	Meistersinger I
Monday	28 July	Rheingold I
Tuesday	29 July	Walküre I
Thursday	31 July	Siegfried I
Saturday	02 August	Götterdämmerung I
Sunday	03 August	Parsifal II
Monday	04 August	Meistersinger II
Tuesday	05 August	Tristan II
Wednesday	06 August	Parsifal III
Thursday	07 August	Meistersinger III
Friday	08 August	Rheingold II
Saturday	09 August	Walküre II
Sunday	10 August	Parsifal (Private Performance)
Monday	11 August	Siegfried II
Wednesday	13 August	Götterdämmerung II
Thursday	14 August	Tristan III
Friday	15 August	Meistersinger IV
Saturday	16 August	Parsifal V
Sunday	17 August	Siegfried (Private Performance)
Monday	18 August	Tristan IV
Tuesday	19 August	Meistersinger V
Wednesday	20 August	Rheingold III
Thursday	21 August	Walküre III
Saturday	23 August	Siegfried III
Monday	25 August	Götterdämmerung III
Tuesday	26 August	Tristan V
Wednesday	27 August	Meistersinger VI
Thursday	28 August	Parsifal VI

It's the Ring cycle and Tristan und Isolde that I'm looking forward to the most! (:
This year is Wolfgang Wagner's last Festival as leader. From 1966, when his brother Wieland Wagner died only 59 years old, Wolfgang Wagner has been artistic supervisor alone. Wonder who will take over next year.

More information from: http://www.wagneropera.net/Bayreuth/2008-Bayreuth-Festival-Programme.htm

Live broadcasts from http://www.br-online.de/bayern4klassik/index.xml (Bayern4Klassik, german radio) . Click on the Live Hören button.

and finally,

AC Douglas writes really good papers (reviews, critiques and musings) on his blog, www.soundsandfury.com

All operas start at 4pm (GMT +2), or 10pm Singapore time (GMT +8).

Bargain-hunting at HMV

2008-07-03T22:01:00.006+08:00

Liangyou and I went shopping yesterday and we bought a lot of CDs. HMV was having a big sale, and like three years ago, we went away with at least 30 hours of music. (:

Our loot for the day: Angela Hewitt Das Wohltemperierte Klavier (Complete), Bernstein conducting Concertgebouw playing Mahler 1, Beethoven Symphonies (complete), a collection of works for Military Bands, a Mozart Wind concerto CD, a Mozart Eine Kleine Nachtmusik and other works CD, and an Unforgettable classics oldies CD.

Total amount spent: $204.

Oh yes, and not forgetting, a CD of modern works. Look, Mr Hunt! Your recording is being sold for $2.95! Oh dear, that's just slightly more than one pound.. :S Perhaps you'd be happy to know that it cost $23 previously...

We got a lucky dip chance for every $100 spent, so that amounted to two chances. I picked a Hannah Montana pink glittery pouch, while LY got a Sonny J (Who on earth is that?!) CD. I think i'll use the pouch for my reed knives. After all, no one would suspect that an innocent, bimbotic pink pouch would be a home to at least 3 reed knives? (:
Also, it's the first time I've seen so many stamps on a HMV card in one purchase.

a gorgeous dark mocha frappe marks the end of our shopping trip (:

Oboe Gathering on 25th June 2008

2008-06-27T00:41:00.000+08:00

And so we had our not-so-annual gathering of the few of us who play the oboe. Discussion topics over salad-and-steak at Sizzlers' and coffee at Starbucks included orchestras, conductors, food, oboes, cookie-baking (check out Rachel's website, she makes the most amazing cookies!) and of course, reeds.

From left to right, Yibin, Kaitze, Liangyou, Rachel and me.

Edible Schubert, anyone?

2008-06-07T19:11:00.003+08:00

Okay, maybe not exactly edible Schubert, but a Franz Schubert chocolate wrapper from Vienna.
The first thing I did was to identify the music: Die Forelle, or The Trout, Op. 32 D550.
I think I'm going crazy. :P

Britten - Six metamorphoses after Ovid: I. Pan

2008-05-16T14:09:00.009+08:00

Seems like Patty was right after all, from what I read in Tales from Ovid.

"...Being a rustic god, Pan was lustful and constantly chased the nymphs.

Like Apollo, he was a musician, though not such a good one. (Does that mean I get away with not playing it nicely?)

Pan's instrument was the syrinx, or Pan-Pipes (named after himself?) to which the nymphs and satyrs used to dance. He obtained his pipes on one of his amorous adventures, when he was chasing the nymph Syrinx or Nonacris. She reached the River Ladon, and finding, in despair, that she was unable to cross it, asked the nymphs to make her into a reed-bed (why, of all things, reeds?). They complied with her request. Pan cut the reeds and set pieces of different lengths together to make his pipes."

Interesting. Perhaps he thought, "If i can't get the girl because she's turned to reeds, then I'll make something out of her. " How brutal of Pan!

Upcoming events...

2008-05-12T11:39:00.003+08:00

... include a trip to Austria from the 17th to the 22nd of May, followed by a much-anticipated Milonga on the 24th and more Tango classes by Javier and Andrea on the 25th!

With everything falling so nicely in place, it's only God that could have planned it. It's gonna be an exciting week ahead! (:

Anyone knows what's nice in Austria? Will I have to survive on my half-baked German or do they speak English? ;P

Tackling the Metamorphoses...

2008-04-20T00:24:00.004+08:00

Oboe teacher suggested that I do three of Britten's Six Metamorphoses After Ovid in my degree recital programme. She recommended numbers 1, 4 and 6 (Pan, Bacchus and Arethusa).

Lesson on friday afternoon went like this:

Teacher: See the first phrase here? It's like a sigh. And the second one after that? That's more of a whine. A lament. Pan's lamenting because Syrinx turned into a reed flute.

Me: Uh, okay. *tries to play following her direction*

Teacher: And here its as though he has fits or something. He's sobbing really badly.

-a while later-

Teacher:Honestly, having his lover turned into a reed flute! How pathetic that must be! Now they can't go for walks in the forest or sit by the fountain, and he can only play on her. She can't even respond!

Me: *starts giggling*

Teacher: Oh, come on! Imagine your boyfriend turned into a teapot...

Me: *bursts into a fit of laughter*

Seriously, the ludicrousness of it all!

Later on, when we were working on Bacchus, teacher was walking around the room acting like a drunkard, trying to help me interpret the music. That only made me laugh even more. Gosh, I so love my oboe teacher. (:

a conversation with a friend...

2008-03-27T00:04:00.003+08:00

"...just indulge, but always always always stay true to your highest convictions. no compromises...

"but at the same time, do remember this.. to live intensely is one of the basic human desires and an artistic need. don't snuff out the artistic streak in you."

"we can stop playing music, but we never should kill the artist in us, who appreciates the beauty and value of the finer things in life.."

"recognise that[our artistic streak is from our Creator] and don't lose that to this society who doesnt appreciate them..."

I'm thankful for people in my life whom I can speak to about art, God and dance (:

More tango...

2008-03-24T17:57:00.002+08:00

Been wanting to do an update on the second and third movements of the Chichester Psalms, but the passion-drenched female voice on Gotan Project's Lunatico has been very, very distracting...

Bernstein - Chichester Psalms (Part I)

2008-03-06T00:42:00.000+08:00

*note to reader: this is a mere attempt at interpreting the work, not a structural analysis*

This post explores Leonard Bernstein's 1964 commission by the cathedrals of Chichester and Salisbury, for a piece set from the Book of Psalms. It was written for a boy treble or countertenor, solo quartet, and an orchestra comprising of 3 trumpets in B, 3 trombones, timpani, percussion (5 players), 2 harps, and strings.

The Chichester Cathedral

A stunning view of the Salisbury Cathedral

The entire Chichester Psalms was written entirely in Hebrew, as it was the original language the Psalms were written in. Also, since Bernstein was born into a Jewish household, he wanted to set the Psalms in Hebrew to underline his roots. Besides, Hebrew is an amazingly beautiful language to sing.

The Psalms chosen represented the two kinds of opposing sides to the human condition, with war-like and militant texts and themes, which represent the cruelty and inhumanity of mankind and our sheer inability to get along with each other in terms of the global community, counterpointed against the words of Psalm 23, which are relevant of compassion, tolerance, trust and understanding. In general, the whole settings of the Chichester Psalms are reflections of what it is to be a human being.

The first movement can be divided into 2 parts, namely, the introduction and the dance.

Introduction

Urah, hanevel, v'chinor!	Awake, psaltery and harp:
A-irah shaḥar	I will rouse the dawn!

Taken from Psalm 108:2, Bernstein graphically sets up a little melodic cell Bb-f-Eb-Ab-Bb, THE key to the whole key piece. The intervals of fourths and sevenths play an important role here, with the dissonant 7ths present in every chord sound like clanging bells, indicating that we are being told to awaken in a deep and profound way. After choir sings the motif, the brasses and basses play the cell and drive the music up a tone. The choir then starts on the same note, and bring the music up another tone. Using that, the brasses and basses drive music up to G major. The theme keeps reinventing itself, but it is based on the same core material.

Dance
This joyful dance in 7/4 meter is unmistakably Bernstein. The 7 beats in the bar are grouped into 12-12-123, and the same melodic cell is used in a compulsive, rhythmic way. Starting with the Xylophone playing the festive, rhythmic theme, it is passed down right through to the basses.

The text used here is from that of the first part of Psalm 100.

Hariu l'Adonai kol haarets.	Make a joyful noise unto the Lord all ye lands.
Iv'du et Adonai b'simḥa	Serve the Lord with gladness.
Bo-u l'fanav bir'nanah.	Come before His presence with singing.
D'u ki Adonai Hu Elohim.	Know that the Lord, He is God.
Hu asanu v'lo anaḥnu.	It is He that has made us, and not we ourselves.
Amo v'tson mar'ito.	We are His people and the sheep of His pasture.

The basses of the choir come in with a modified upside down version of the theme. Tenors then answer the basses and develop the idea. Basses start developing further, and there is counterpoint as the sopranos and altos come in, with an inversion of the theme. The anticipation and excitement mounts, building up towards the proclamations of

Bo-u sh'arav b'todah,	Come unto His gates with thanksgiving,
Ḥatseirotav bit'hilah,	And into His court with praise.
Hodu lo, bar'chu sh'mo.	Be thankful unto Him and bless His name.

taken from the second part of Psalm 100. The use of bongos here is interesting, as a critic criticized it as being too "shallow, artificial and American". Anticipation is built up to an even greater climax, and an energetic swagger factor is introduced - a thunderous accent on the last beat of the bar, creating a 12-12-12*BANG* bar! The joy expressed here is irrepressible!

Winding down, the music then refracts and splinters in a beautiful way using the very forms of the theme. A remarkable combination in terms of color and timbre is heard. High pitched percussion, 2 harps, high strings pizzicato subdue the music, after which two bright-sounding trumpets lightly play fragments of the theme interspersed with segments of the xylophone. Temple blocks can be heard in the background.

A solo vocal quartet emerges from the chorus, with yet another new variation of the theme. There is a new texture in orchestra - ostinatos in the harps and solo cello, forming a rolling figure which loops round and round. The timpani has an ostinato too, which is marked enticingly to be played "whisperingly". Here the text is from the final part of Psalm 100:

Ki tov Adonai, l'olam ḥas'do,	the Lord is good, his mercy everlasting
V'ad dor vador emunato.	And His truth endureth to all generations.

The music has a greater sense of gravity here, as though affirming the promise of the Lord's goodness. At the last word "emunato" enters a last great declaration of the main theme to the words "for the Lord is good". Here the interval of the 7th is recalled. This is a quasi-canon of voices, with the sopranos and tenors pitted against the altos and basses, ending the movement joyfully and in good spirit.

Running on impulse?

2008-02-03T02:18:00.000+08:00

"I love Italian opera--it's so reckless. Damn Wagner, and his bellowings at Fate and death. Damn Debussy, and his averted face. I like the Italians who run all on impulse, and don't care about their immortal souls, and don't worry about the ultimate."
D.H. Lawrence, letter, April 1, 1911

Impulse: living dangerously, recklessly. Do first, think later. Or maybe don't even think. Being spontaneous. Perhaps that's how tangos should be played/danced.

Reuben and I attended our very first milonga (coincidentally, IXI's final one before shutting their doors) since we started learning tango 5 months ago. What an experience! We danced our first milonga and vals with some difficulty and some foot-stepping, he's getting so much better as a leader (: Although I danced more tandas with him than anyone else, I got a chance to dance with a few other gentlemen too, and there's just so much to learn! A good leader naturally awakens me to my depth and it's difficult to focus on the outer environment much at all---meaning anything beyond my body and his. Even when navigating our way through a crowded dance floor (one of my partners compared it to driving on a crowded road), my eyes remain closed, as we're transported to an inner world where the music and close movement seemed to meld our bodies into one.

And it really was like being part of his body...or being part of the One body that our two bodies become for those three minutes.

This, for me, is tango at its best. Nevermind the fact that I'm a beginner.

And it's amazingly sensual without being sexual. In fact, in a funny sense, it's almost as if bringing in overt sexual energy would be an intrusion, a dilution, or diminishment, of what is so lushly available. And it truly is wonderful...just different.

---

Thank you for the dances, and the many more to come.