Symphony of Science
Two posts in one day. I know, I spoil you.
Really, I just wanted to share with you something that I feel is a beautiful homage, well put-together, and strangely enchanting. It is essentially a mash-up of documentary and lecture clips, auto-tuned to produce a flowing melody, on an electronic backing track, but the end result is, frankly, brilliant. Includes some of my true heroes, some more well-known faces of science, and also Bill Nye (the Science Guy) who taught me science via my telly when I was only 6 years old. Squee.
Enjoy.
EDIT: If you enjoy this, you can watch Jill Bolte Taylor’s moving, inspiring TED talk (sampled here) in full here
[Robert Winston]
It’s amazing to consider that I’m holding in my hands
The place where someone once felt, thought, and loved
For centuries, scientists have been battling to understand
What this unappealing object is all about
[Vilayanur Ramachandran]
Here is this mass of jelly
You can hold in the palm of your hands
And it can contemplate the vastness of interstellar space
[Carl Sagan]
The brain has evolved from the inside out
Its structure reflects all the stages through which it has passed
[Jill Bolte Taylor]
Information in the form of energy
Streams in simultaneously
Through all of our sensory systems
And then it explodes into this enormous collage
Of what this present moment looks like
What it feels like
And what it sounds like
And then it explodes into this enormous collage
And in this moment we are perfect
We are whole and we are beautiful
[Robert Winston]
It appears rather gruesome
Wrinkled like a walnut, and with the consistency of mushroom
[Carl Sagan]
What we know is encoded in cells called neurons
And there are something like a hundred trillion neural connections
This intricate and marvelous network of neurons has been called
An enchanted loom
The neurons store sounds too, and snatches of music
Whole orchestras play inside our heads
20 million volumes worth of information
Is inside the heads of every one of us
The brain is a very big place
In a very small space
No longer at the mercy of the reptile brain
We can change ourselves
Think of the possibilities
[Bill Nye]
Think of your brain as a newspaper
Think of all the information it can store
But it doesn’t take up too much room
Because it’s folded
[Oliver Sacks]
We see with the eyes
But we see with the brain as well
And seeing with the brain
Is often called imagination
[Various]
[Robert Winston]
It is the most mysterious part of the human body
And yet it dominates the way we live our adult lives
It is the brain
Music: Florence + The Machine
I’m a bit in love with ol’ Flo and her machine. This and “Howl” are particularly good. Remember, you must become the lion-hearted girl, ready for a fight.
V&A: The Cult of Beauty
On Friday, I met up with my mum and aunt, who were having a day out in London. They had already been to see Jan Gossaert’s (Flemish, like they are!) work at the National Gallery by the time I met up with them, and had a cheeky sit in at a lunch time concert at St Martin-In-The-Fields whilst they were waiting for me to arrive, so I knew they were on a culture binge. After a spot of lunch, we decided to round off the day with a visit to the Victoria & Albert museum.
After a drift through the hall of statues (the first gallery you come to after entering via the subway), we decided to avail ourselves of the temporary exhibition on the 1860-1900′s aesthetic movement, The Cult Of Beauty.
As all three of us are avid lovers of all things Art Noveau, it drew us in immediately. With a philosophy best summed up by Morris, “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful”, the aesthetic movement was a celebration of beauty. Whilst I wasn’t mad on everything in the exhibition, there was an astoundingly large selection to choose from. My favourites included Pavonia (the picture used in the promotional material, as above), Proud Maisie, The Beguiling of Merlin and Louise Jopling. I was also deeply drawn in by the beautiful statue, Mors Janua Vitae (death is the gateway to life) by Harry Bates – the picture on that website does not do it justice; it is stunningly beautiful and more than a bit unnerving.
As well as being crammed full of beautiful paintings, sketches and sculpture, The Cult of Beauty also boasts some architectural drawings (including sketches for Whistler’s famous Peacock Room), Morris wallpapers, pottery, a set of wrought iron gates, some beautiful clothing and astonishing feats of carpentry. Oscar Wilde gets a mention or two, and there is a poster for a play entitled “Quite Too Utterly Utter”, which makes me grin like a loony.
The exhibition is on until the 17th of July, and is well worth the price of the ticket. We spent a good couple of hours in there, and would have taken even more time if we hadn’t started flagging after a long day.
Tickets are priced at £12 Full, £9 Seniors citizens, £7 Full time students, ES40 holders, 12-17 year olds, £31/£19 Family tickets (2 adults and 2 12-17 yrs/1 adult and 2 12-17 yrs)
Find full details on the V&A website.
Music: Small Faces
Enjoy your Sunday, folks!
Crafty: Firestarter Jumper
Remember this? No, not my grumpy faced boyfriend. I mean the amazing jumper he’s wearing.
Yeah, it’s finished. Well, almost. I have a ridiculous number of ends to weave in, but at least it’s now apparel rather than just assorted pieces of colourful fabric. Yay!
The Damnation of Faust
Yesterday, I turned 23. I won’t dwell on my troubles accepting the passage on time, but instead dive right in with the festivities.
Last year, Ben and I were thinking about going to the opera. Ben had never been to the opera before, and I wanted to treat him to a really good production. So, a browse around revealed that Terry Gilliam would be directing a production of Berlioz’s fantastic ”The Damnation of Faust” in May 2011. OK, not strictly an opera, but I performed it a few years back (playing bass in an informal music camp production (in a barn. Ask, if you’re curious), with the wonderful (Sussex based!) Neil Jenkins singing Dr Faust) and fell deeply in love with it. Oh, and Terry Gilliam is awesome, so extra bonus.
I booked my tickets as soon as they went on sale. I was on hold a mighty long time on the morning of November the first, but I didn’t care – I was determined to get good tickets for the matinee on my birthday.
B-Day (as opposed to D-Day) came around mighty fast, and yesterday afternoon found us lurking around the London Coliseum in anticipation. Soon, we were sat with a great view from the stalls (row J, which is close enough to actually see facial expressions, but not so close as to strain your neck).
It. Was. Amazing. From the brief spoken opener from Mephisto, through Faust’s heart-wrenching soliloquies (get an idea of how beautiful the music is from the first scene), the comedy songs, Faust’s descent into hell, and Marguerite’s requiem to close.
Like most ENO productions, it was in English (as opposed to the original French) – but there were sur-titles anyway, just in case you couldn’t make out the words. Personally, I had no trouble hearing, as all of the cast had beautiful voices and clear annunciation.
The scenery was out of this world, and I think there was more than a nod to to this famous painting (The Wanderer Above the Mists, Caspar David Friedrich) in terms of the scope of the opening scene, and Faust’s mad hair (although Berlioz himself was known for his flamboyant ginger locks) -
The running Nazi-metaphor was a good choice in my opinion – without it, we could have been left with some slap-stick demon story, but instead, comparisons drawn with WWII gave us something a lot darker, and far more Real.
And a special mention MUST go to Christopher Purves, singing the part of Mephisto. He had such an easy sounding voice, and was the archetypal cool, smooth demon. He was lurking around the stage whilst the human characters got about their business, and had so many costume changes (so smoothly executed) that I couldn’t keep track. The devil is everywhere: keep your eyes peeled.
Photo from The Guardian website
DEFINITELY worth seeing, should you get the chance. There are only 8 performances left, so you’d better get a move on. Tickets are going from £21 each, available via the ENO website.
Incidentally, if you are a student, or under 30 years old, DO apply for Access All Arias. It’s free, and you get top-notch tickets for cut prices. Made my birthday a bit cheaper, and meant that I could treat myself to two restaurant meals in one day. More about that tomorrow. Cheerio!
Music: Amy MacDonald
Yay, another awesome female artist. I’ve loved Amy MacDonald since she brought out Poison Prince, but with the recent Fiat advert (with This Is The Life in the background), Ben has realised that he loves her too. And so we’ve been playing her music a fair bit.
What a pretty lady.
I’ve really gotten into “Run” recently (watch a good video here – embedding has been disabled by the user, so sorry about that). It’s a bit more melancholic than some of her more romping tunes (ok, a lot of her songs are a bit sad), but I think the refrain is sort of inspiring, in its way. I won’t patronise you too much by interpreting the fairly straight-forward lyrics, suffice to say, that in this unpredictable point in my life, I’m listening to it over. And over. And over.
Hope you love it as much as I do.
Music: Fiddler on the Roof
Yesterday, I saw Fiddler on the Roof for the first time. Twice in one day in fact. And I just so happened to be playing bass in the pit.
Lewes Operatic Society were, as usual, fantastic. They all have such great voices and presence in that company, especially the lead playing Tevye (our narrator, and head of the family).
It’s a bit of a miserable story, but it’s littered with jokes and romping tunes, so no worries there. The famous “If I Were A Rich Man” takes centre stage, but I preferred the more sombre “Sabbath Prayer” and “Sunrise, Sunset”.
Definitely worth a look. Lewes Operatic Society put on great shows.
Music: Lewes Operatic Society
Are you near Lewes (Sussex) tomorrow? Then why not take in a show? I’ll be playing in the pit for Lewes Operatic Society’s final performances of Fiddler on the Roof (If I were a rich man, diddly diddle diddle dee…) Can’t wait.
There are two performances tomorrow, a matinée at 2:30 and an evening performance at 7:30. All performances take place in Lewes’ lovely town hall. Tickets are priced at £9 for the matinée and £10 for the evening.
It’d be nice to see some of you in the audience!
UKSA 2011 Conference: Overview
Yesterday saw the first day of the annual UK Synaesthesia Association‘s conference, this year hosted by UEL. Unfortunately, I was unable to attend today’s half of the conference (and my Sunday didn’t go to plan anyway, but that’s another story). However, I intend to give you a taster of what I experienced yesterday.
As a foreword: I won’t go into the details of the various talks here. I intend to write up the main ideas of my favourite talks over the next few days, so look out for those. This post is more intended to impart a general overview of the atmosphere of the conference.
Well, to start with: synaesthesia. I’ve done a brief overview of this fascinating neurological anomaly before, but just as a refresher:
Synaesthesia is estimated to affect about 2% of the population. It comes in many different forms, all of them mind bloggling. Synaesthetes have a notoriously hard time explaining or describing their experience of the world to others. And yet, despite all this, there is very limited research done into synaesthesia.
Maybe, simply, because it’s not a problem. It’s really, really interesting, but it needs no cure. In fact, I have had many synaesthetes say to me that they can’t imagine living without it.
Synaesthesia is a crossing of the senses. The most commonly known types are grapheme-colour synaesthesia and sound-colour synaesthesia. To explain: grapheme colour synaesthesia is usually where an individual will experience a certain colour whenever they see a certain colour, letter or word. Read more about it here.
The UKSA conference gave the opportunity for people with an interest in synaesthesia (many of them synaesthetes themselves) to discuss research and network. Throughout the day, poster presentations (summarising studies) were on display in a downstairs room at UEL (pictured above), and a series of talks were given throughout the day. The talks I attended ranged from the very “sciencey” to the more phenomenological discussion of synaesthesia in art.
I can’t speak for others, but I think synaesthesia draws me because it is a wonderfully romantic idea – some unique individuals can see music in colour, taste colour, experience sounds as textured. This is beyond metaphor: this is a very real experience. And it’s not trained association: it’s very much automatic, internally consistent and unconsciously processed.
As always, if you reading this and it sounds familiar, please let me know – I’d love to hear about your own experiences.
Music: Stowmarket Chorale
Yesterday, I had the pleasure of being a guest soprano in the Stowmarket Chorale.
They were set to sing the incredibly challenging Bach B minor mass in St Edmundsbury cathedral, and Les Olive (their conductor, but also our conductor at EAC) asked if I, and three other EAC members, could lend a supporting voice. I’d never sung it before last night, but I relish a challenge, and attempted to learn the work in the four short weeks before the concert.
The B minor mass is HARD. And the performance was far from perfect. But it was exciting, we didn’t get lost, and we were extremely enthusiastic. The audience seemed to enjoy it too, which is generally the aim of these things…
I do love Bury St Edmunds, and my many thanks to Stowmarket Chorale for making us feel so welcome.
Music: Björk
Iceland’s favourite kooky fairy princess, one time fiancée of Goldie, famous for her weird sounds and wacky outfits (remember the swan dress? That was cool).
I love Björk (her patronym is Guðmundsdóttir. Try saying it with a mouth full of Maltesers – I find it helps).
“The Hunter” makes for good walking music – it sounds much better through headphones, as the sound switches from ear to ear, which is a bit trippy. Give it a go.
Enjoy!
Music: Ratatat
Ratatat have basically pwned my life-soundtrack lately. As one of the comments on the YouTube listing says: RATATAT. Y U NO GET PLAYED ON RADIO?
Art: Bobsmade custom shoes & headphones
I toyed with the idea of filing this German genius under “crafty”, but really, it is art. They were the inspiration behind my own handpainted Kitty-Fox shoes (which will be featured in a post… some time later. Watch this space)
Bobsmade is a German-based company, established in 2007. Anne, a graffiti-style artist, designs and produces gorgeous, original artworks with her brother Hannes, and will happily customise anything for you, be it headphones, glasses, shoes, bags…
I have followed Bobsmade on deviantArt for over a year now, and peruse their new creations with great admiration – they really play into my great love of bright colours and cuddly animals.
Out of respect for the artists, I won’t be republishing their designs here. So please head on over to either their shop or their dA account and have a browse. Warning: you may lose a considerable portion of your day.
Music: Ralph Vaughan Williams
I promise promise PROMISE to write some intelligent, sciencey (sort of) posts SOON. But not right now. I am swamped at the moment, so you will just have to make do with an English National Treasure: the great Ralph Vaughan Williams.
I have loved Vaughan Williams for a long time. I think I was about 13 when I first performed his spellbinding Five Variations on Dives and Lazarus, and I was hooked straight away. It is an oft-cited hypothesis that Mozart is good for the developing brain because the phrasing and patterns in his music match brain-wave patterns (or some other vague quasi-neuroscientific tosh). But I feel far more drawn in by the patterns and “waves” in Vaughan Williams, in particular the aforementioned Dives & Lazarus.
Most people know Vaughan Williams for the Lark Ascending, or for Fantasia on Greensleeves. I know him for this. Enjoy:
TV: Horrible Histories
Any of my friendly Twitter followers *waves at you lot jovially* will have maybe seen me blurting out seemingly random lines recently, such as “I’m a fire stopper!”. Please do not be alarmed: I do know the words to The Prodigy’s hit single, so this is not some nerdy cock-up. This is another form of special nerdiness, which is in touch with my childhood in a beautiful way.
Oh yes, I LOVED the Horrible Histories books, and so I was filled with glee when the chaps over at the BBC made a children’s TV series based on Terry Deary’s genius combination of facts and fun. Whilst it’s a little sad that kids are being encouraged back towards the box and away from the books, it’s great that we’re sneaking education into their entertainment, once again. And it’s not just for kids, either – even Ben’s mum (who joined us in watching some HH over Christmas) was amazed to learn how much the Victorians invented.
Arguably, the best thing about HH is its fantastic songs. Oh yes yes yes. Catchy tunes have been forcing facts into our heads for many years, and HH songs are top notch. Some of the favourites in our household include “doing the Pachacuti”, the 4 Georges “Born 2 Rule” and of course….
Oh dear god, hunt it down and you’ll be hooked, I promise. And, just because I love you, here are the lyrics to help you along.
CHARLES II: KING OF BLING
My name is, my name is, my name is – Charles the second!
I love people and the people love me
So much that they restored the English monarchy
I’m part Scottish-French-Italian, a little bit Dane
But one hundred per cent party animal!
Champagne?
Spaniels I adored, named after me too
Like me they were fun with a natty hair-do.
Is today my birthday? I can’t recall
Let’s have a party anyway, because I love a masked ball
All hail – the King – of Bling – let’s sing – bells ring – ding-ding
I’m the King who brought back partying!
King Charles my daddy lost his throne and kings were banned
They chopped off his head, then Olly Cromwell ruled the land
Old Olly wasn’t jolly, he was glum and he was proud
Would be miserable as sin only ‘sinning’s not allowed’
When Cromwell died the people said ‘Charlie me hearty
‘Get rid of his dull laws, come back, we’d rather party.’
This action’s what they called the Monarchy Restoration
Which naturally was followed by a huge celebration
The King – of Eng-land say – no sin – to sing – or anything.
All say I’m the King who brought back partying
Great London Fire was a whopper
In my reign London city came a cropper
So this King did what was right and proper
Fought the fire, proved I’m more than a bopper
I’m a fire-stopper!
Married Catherine Braganza, she was a love so true
There would never be another, well maybe one or two
Lucy Walter, Nell Gwynn, Moll Davis, Barbara Villiers
You think that’s bad but her name’s not as silly as:
Hortense Manzini
As king I must admit I broke the wedding rules
But who cares when I brought back the crown jewels?
I reinstated Christmas, make-up, sport and even plays
I was the Merry Monarch they were Good Old Days
When said – and done – King Charles – did run – England – for fun
I was the King! Loved by everyone. My song is done.
Party anyone?
Lyrics written by Dave Cohen and music by Richie Webb
Music: Frou Frou
I have been listening to lots of music lately! It’s my new Skullcandy headphones. I can lock out the outside world, now. Marrrrvellous.
One thing I keep coming back to is the marvellous Frou Frou (vocals by the gorgeous Imogen Heap. How great is the name Imogen? Not enough people are called Imogen…)
I hope you like Frou Frou, and might even download some for your own iPod.
Books: The 2010 Round-up
Well, at the start of 2010, I resolved to read more. And I think I’ve done pretty damn well. Here, as we stand at the edge of the abyss, and the last dregs of 2010 filter away, I can happily say that I have read quite a few books this year.
It’s been tricky, too: throwing myself into a scientific discipline at the last minute (shut up, physicists: psychology so is a science. It has ology and everything) meant that I faced a lot of academic reading, in the form of text books and journal articles. But in between all of that, I have managed a grand total of 39 books this year – 23 non-fiction, and 16 fiction (where I’ve listed text books, that’s where I have actually read them, cover to cover). And this is what they were:
- 30.01.10 – Nicky Hayes – A First Course in Psychology (nf)
- 09.02.10 – Matt Ridley – Nature Via Nurture (nf)
- 01.03.10 – James Hogg – The Three Perils of Man (f)
- 07.03.10 – Adam Phillips – Monogamy (nf)
- 22.03.10 – John Marzillier & John Hall – What is clinical psychology? (nf)
- 24.03.10 – Aldous Huxley – Brave New World (f)
- 30.03.10 – Terry Pratchett – Nation (f)
- 22.04.10 – Walter J. Freeman – How Brains Make Up Their Minds (nf)
- 15.05.10 – G. K. Chesterton – Father Brown Stories (f)
- 19.05.10 – Russell L. Ackoff, Herbert J. Addison & Sally Bibb – Management f-Laws (nf)
- 20.05.10 – Lewis Carroll – Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (f)
- 26.05.10 – Siri Hustvedt – The Shaking Woman or A History Of My Nerves (nf)
- 29.05.10 – Terry Pratchett – Thud! (f)
- 02.06.10 – Oliver Sacks – The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat (nf)
- 23.06.10 – Wilkie Collins – The Woman in White (f)
- 29.06.10 – Joseph Conrad – Heart Of Darkness (f)
- 02.07.10 – David Hume – On Suicide (nf)
- 05.07.10 – *Iain Banks – Complicity (f)
- 22.07.10 – Jonathan Weiner – Time, Love, Memory (nf)
- 26.07.10 – Christopher Fowler – Spanky (f)
- 14.08.10 – Robert Winston – Human Instinct (nf)
- 22.08.10 – Iain M. Banks – Consider Phlebas (f)
- 28.08.10 – American Psychological Association – Concise Rules of APA Style (nf)
- 08.09.10 – Andy Field & Graham Hole – How to Design and Report Experiments (nf)
- 13.09.10 – Nick Braisby (ed.) – Cognitive Psychology: A Methods Companion (nf)
- 20.09.10 – Ken Kesey – One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest (f)
- 07.10.10 – Steven Pinker – The Language Instinct (nf)
- 12.10.10 – *Paul Broks – Into The Silent Land (nf)
- 21.10.10 – Daniel Levitin – This Is Your Brain On Music (nf)
- 31.10.10 – Oliver Sacks – Musicophilia (nf)
- 07.11.10 – The Poetry and Short Stories of Dorothy Parker (f)
- 10.11.10 – Alain de Botton – Status Anxiety (nf)
- 11.11.10 – Richard Bach – Jonathan Livingstone Seagull (f)
- 14.11.10 – Richard P. Feynman – The Meaning of it All (nf)
- 29.11.10 – *Andrew Solomon – The Noonday Demon (nf)
- 04.12.10 – Iain Banks – The Bridge (f)
- 26.12.10 – Axel Scheffler – How to Keep a Pet Squirrel (f)
- 27.12.10 – Dr Liz Miller – Mood Mapping (nf)
- 29.12.10 – Michael S. Gazzaniga – Nature’s Mind (nf)
And I’ve just started the first one for 2011. How about you? Did you chomp through some good reads this year? Which were your favourites? I’ve put an asterisk by my three absolute favourites this year, and massively recommend them.
Boxes are for life…
Well, that’s Christmas done and dusted for another year! I hope you had a good one – I know I did. Fine, we all ate too much, spent far too much money, and generally spoiled each other rotten. But that’s what Christmas is all about, right? Good times with family & friends?
But what is Boxing day all about? The exact origins are unknown, but like many long-lasting traditions, it became most popular in the Victorian era: it’s a day of giving to those in need.
OK, so where does Good King Wenceslas come into all this? Aside from the plug for my home town (where the famous carol was written!), Boxing day is also known as the Feast Of Stephen or St Stephen’s Day. And (stay with me here) who was more givey-to-the-needy than the good old King, eh? After all, he took flesh and wine and pine logs to “yonder peasant”, and even shielded his good page from the biting cold wind.
So mark his footsteps today: I urge you, do at least one random act of kindness today. Even if it’s just shovelling snow from your neighbours doorstep, washing the dishes for your mum (after all, she made a MIGHTY roast yesterday, right?), or even if it’s as epic as popping down to your local homeless shelter to help out during this cruel weather.
Goodwill to all, and all that jazz.
Image credits: easyart.com
Music: DJ Shadow
Today, another influence from Ben to share with you – the brilliantly talented DJ Shadow. Never thought it’d be my sort of thing, but he is great. And he’s great for doing exercise to (if and when I ever do exercise).
Here’s one of my favourites:
100!
I made it. This is officially my 100th blog post. I have managed to blog every day since mid-September, and nearly all my posts have been useful or interesting (yes? No?)
This has come at a perfect time as well, because today I need to concentrate all my efforts on finishing a lab report that I have barely started – so I thought today’s post could be a good excuse to do a bit of a round up of the last few months. And share some pretty pictures, yay!
Well, on the topic of my lab report: the most obvious milestone for me in the last few months has been starting my Psychology MSc. Since then, it has been non-stop – most of it fun, a lot of it stressful but all of it fascinating.
Unfortunately, starting my MSc has meant that I’ve had to leave some things behind, such as my beloved Horniman museum, but I still get a chance to go back and visit. And of course, there are little reminders of the Horniman all around me…
I haven’t lost all my fun though: I still sing quite frequently, and even got a couple of double bass concerts in this season (although one had to be cancelled last week due to snow). I managed to go clubbing once or twice, did a lot of cooking and baking, and had several wonderful meals out (including finally trying out Time&Space for Ben’s birthday).
I have to interrupt myself briefly, just to say that doing this round up is making me realise that I have actually been quite busy over the last few months, which is reassuring and also quite emotional. Ignore me.
I have been to visit friends, I have had friends come to stay with me, I have been to soooo many extra-curricular lectures, and had wonderful cultural days out. I even had a silly day out sledding with Ben when the snow hit.
In amongst all the shenannagins of having my brain scanned but not zapped, all the cocktails and the pottery painting, and even my first trek to IKEA via public transport, I have still managed to sit back and relax.
I have read a huge amount (by my usual standards) of books this year (so far! I aim to read a few more before 2010 is out) – 37 is the count so far, and that’s excluding all the text books and journal articles I’ve had to read for uni. I’ve dabbled with Kesey, Banks, Parker, a very special seagull, and then a whole bunch of NON-fiction (madness!) – Music from Sacks and Levitin, Language with Pinker, Neuropsych with Broks and a mammoth book on depression.
I’ve been busy, you’ve been busy – we’ve all been busy bunnies. Maybe it’s time to chill out and enjoy the holiday season? I have a wedding to go to this weekend (my eldest brother got married in August, and now it’s my other brother’s turn!), and that pretty much heralds the time for festivities. I best get this lab report out of the way, then…
Thanks for indulging me – it’s been a fun 100 posts. Here’s to many more!
Music: Prokofiev
I love classical music. I’ve been immersed in it for as long as I can remember. I particularly like the early 20th century Russian composers. Prokofiev falls into this group. Fair enough, Prokofiev was born in Ukraine, but his education and maturation really took place in Russia.
He was one of those infuriatingly talented children, playing piano with his mother when he was only 3, and showing “unusual” musical talent as early as age 5. He was playing chess aged 7 (another typically Russian phenomenon). He was already composing his first opera when he was only 9. Then, with some professional teaching and guidance from Reinhold Glière, he started composing a symphony at age 11. Age 13 saw him enter the St Petersburg Conservatory… You can see where this is going.
Whilst there, he studied under one of my other favourites, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, but unfortunately he died when Prokofiev was only 17. Prokofiev expressed real regret at not being able to study under him for longer.
Like all the best of them, Prokofiev was ahead of his time – he had a bit of a reputation for being a bit of a rebel, and his forward-looking works were considered positively scandalous, with their dissonance and chromaticism. He was a bit of a rock-star of his time, I suppose.
He travelled a lot. He hob nobbed with a lot of geniuses of his age. He was even on a stamp in 1991 (to commemorate his centenary). And he died on the same day as Joseph Stalin. Super – Sergei Prokofiev, 1891-1953.
My first proper introduction to Prokofiev was when I played his Lieutenant Kijé suite with the National Children’s Orchestra. That was many years ago, but I won’t forget it. I mainly wanted to mention Prokofiev today because his Troika from his Lieutenant Kijé suite is Christmas Incarnate. I don’t know why I’m so Christmas-happy this year, but I am; hope you’re getting in to the spirit, too. Maybe the Troika will help – enjoy!
Image credits: abt.org, berkshirereview.net
Do not go gentle into that good night…
WARNING: Philosophy in progress
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
-Dylan Thomas
I have been thinking a lot about death lately. It is hardly surprising: I have suffered a great deal of loss this year, with Ben’s aunt Flossy dying last Boxing day, then his beloved dog Laura in April. Soon after my birthday, in May, I lost the last of my grandparents: my dad flew over from Dubai to bury his mother. I was too upset to even write a coherent tribute post for that particular loss.
Then last week, I heard the sudden, unexpected and painful news that Janet McCleery, the singing teacher that set me on the road of beautiful musicianship, had passed away in her sleep.
I heard from someone at Ardingly (one of the several places in Sussex that she taught organ and singing) that Janet was discovered when she did not turn up for an engagement, and the person involved called the police. Quite a testament to her reliability. Apparently, they broke into the house and found her in bed, seemingly having died in her sleep – a lovely peaceful way for her to go, but shocking for everyone else; especially as she was not that old either (67).
I went to her Requiem Mass held at Worth Church in Sussex just yesterday morning. I found the majority of the service to be sadly unmoving: the priest talked at length about Janet’s religious faith (which I never once discussed with Janet in the many years I knew her) but only mentioned her incredible musicality once (which was, in my eyes, the driving force of her life).
Please, don’t get me wrong: I may be an atheist, but I am a non-aggressive atheist. I don’t mind religion. People can believe what they want to believe. However, I think it is frankly quite insulting that priest was given so much space to say so much about so little. A large percentage of the congregation (myself included) chose not to step up for Communion or even a blessing, illustrating that they were not their for the religion, but there to celebrate the life of a wonderful, humble, caring, devoted, talented and inspiring woman.
It was only when the choir sang Fauré’s “In Paradisum” and Michael Oakley (head of music at Worth school) made an impassioned, moving, and personal speech in memory of Janet, that I truly felt moved. I admire Michael greatly for pushing on with his words of tribute for this wonderful woman, despite the fact that he was obviously struggling with emotion.
I am sorry that I didn’t see her all that often in recent years. I can’t remember the last time I spoke to her, but it will have been many months, if not a year or two. That fact pains me greatly: she was a huge, positive influence in my life.
Rest in peace, Janet. You live on in the many lives you touched, the many people you shared your music with, the many eager young musicians you trained.
