and then…

there was the Wagner.  We hadn’t seen Tristan and Isolde before and indeed, are pretty much Wagner novices since our previous exposure was limited to Das Rheingold a couple of summers ago.  Though we’d really enjoyed that performance and indeed, looked forward very much to the spectacle and all round experience a night at the opera promised, I was still a little apprehensive.  After all, the performance began at 5 pm and there was not only an interval but a meal break too!

 

We arrived at the Millennium Centre in good time, to hear the preconcert talk and to learn a little bit about what we were going to hear.  Simon Rees (the same chap who speaks so eloquently on the WNO website) spoke very well and explained the plot sufficiently that I was confident of knowing I’d be able to follow.

So it was that, fortified by a little sustenance (a few madeleines and a bottle of fizz, enjoyed in the fresh air of a Cardiff Saturday afternoon) we took our seats and settled down for the duration.  Except that it wasn’t at all…

The sets were sparse and a little bleak, for sure and the cast of six main characters meant there wasn’t a great chance to be overwhelmed by lavish costumes and larger than life characters.  This was Wagner, for sure – there was not much action and the story moves at a glacial pace at times.  But the drama was there in spades, the characters well defined and for me, the spare and rather dimly lit setting was perfect.  In no time at all, we were breaking for the first interval and off outside again for the next stage of the picnic!

We returned after half an hour to Act Two and a different but similarly constructed set.  Having the characters established in our minds now, we were able to sit back a little and not feel as though we had to work so hard at it.  I was so enthralled that the end of the act came as rather a surprise!

Off we went again, this time for a rather longer, supper break.  Arthur and Barbara had booked us a table for a delicious cold plate of salmon, ham, salads and suchlike and we were getting well into the routine.  Well, a little food, a little music, some more food…get the picture?

By the time we’d got to Act 3, we felt that we had a fair bit invested in old Tristan there, as he lay injured and awaiting the arrival of his love from afar.  Not the most agile of chaps, I held my breath as he staggered up this slab of a set, realising a little too soon that it had been designed as a kind of platform on which he was going to lay down and die – which sure enough, he did.  Fortunately, Isolde had got there just in time and as the tale reached its sorry end, I also realised that the last five hours had been the build up to this, the most magical of finales, the Liebestod.

We were all left somewhat breathless.  Though Wagner demands a little more commitment than Puccini or Verdi and certainly doesn’t bring a tear to the eye or a smile to the face so readily either, that’s not to say that the emotions are left unstirred.  Far from it – this was truly thrilling and incredibly powerful stuff and I can understand why Wagnerian sopranos are so highly regarded and command such respect.  Ann Petersen was magnificent.

I won’t say we left the theatre humming, but felt thrilled and rather drained at the same time.  I think that’s what Wagner does…

Eclectic tastes

This weekend is a social whirl and as I write, I’m hoping the weather’s going to be kind enough for me to wear my blue Mumbai kurta and white churidar to our neighbours drinks party this lunchtime. 

It wouldn’t have looked out of place on Friday night in Birmingham, actually, when we took our regular seats in Symphony Hall for “Burman in Bollywood”.  What a fun evening!  We’ve always loved Bollywood films and find them to be the perfect escapism for when we want to watch a feelgood film, though we’d be the first to admit, we don’t really know much about the genre.

The concert was a tribute to RD Burman and the music of the evening began with a song in what we thought of as typical Bollywood style:  Dum Maro Dum, sung by Sanchita Pal accompanied by the full CBSO.  Even though they had got out what seemed like every percussion instrument they possessed, Shahbaz Hussain’s tabla playing was an essential part of the evening and I loved the range of rhythms and sounds he created with what looks like the simplest of instruments (but clearly wasn’t!)

That got everyone’s toes tapping and with such an enthusiastic audience it was hard not to be carried along with the mood!  Mind you, we had difficulties singing along…

Sanchita shared the stage with Bhangra star Shin DCS who sang O hansini so beautifully and who made us smile with his super cool moves!  He and Rashid Ali were having a great time and when Rashid and Sanchita sang Kya Hua Tera Wada we were well into the groove!

We’ve now got a long list of Bollywood movies we want to watch, including 1942 A Love Story, from where another favourite song came

The whole evening was a great success and we’ll look out for the next such interesting feature on the CBSO’s programme without a doubt.

In perfect contrast to Friday evening, we spent much of Saturday in Cardiff with friends Arthur and Barbara, who’d invited us to Tristan and Isolde.  I think that deserves a whole post to itself, so more about that later. 

A weekend of Bollywood and Wagner?   Wow!

Whose idea was this?

I think the answer to that question is “mine”, sadly.

More about the flowerpots in a moment.  First, I am sure you’ll expect an update on the Breadbox test yesterday?

Ta-dah!  I left the perfume and the handcream there in the top right hand corner as a point of reference.  See, it can be done ;-)

I found a rather appropriate slip of paper from a fortune cookie amongst the debris, too.

But what of the flowerpots?

Well, it’s my WI’s turn to host the group meeting for our neighbouring WIs next week, and being the competitive bunch we are, we love to set everyone a challenge.  Our speaker will be local author Katie Fforde and we decided to give the whole evening a local flavour, including the competitions too.  The Stroudwater Canal is currently undergoing some restoration and bearing in mind, a couple of Katie’s books have been set on or around a canal, someone not too far from here had the idea that one competition could be to paint and plant a pot in a canalboat style.

A couple of weeks ago, we got together around Wendy’s table to try out some of the “castles and roses” style motifs.  Well, I know we were gossiping, but somehow, we couldn’t get them to work.  We’d been on the internet and printed out some step by step instructions which appeared really easy…but nothing we did looked remotely like a rose.

The following day I was off judging a competition with my friend Marion, who happened to mention that her WI had just had a “Roses and Castles” painting class – and her WI had bought the book.  Bless her, she kindly loaned us what we hoped would be the key to success!

But my next attempts weren’t much better.  I was having difficulty controlling the brushstrokes and decided I needed a different brush, so whilst in London, I dropped into Cass Arts for one with a shorter head.  Of course, they had superduper offers on and it made more sense to buy a lovely new matching set of six than to get just one single brush…

I found it easier with the little brush and at last, felt I was getting somewhere.  I still wasn’t confident enough to paint on the pots yet, though!

I painted a piece of card with the dark green paint I’d chosen to paint my pots with.  I’d sprayed them with polyurethane varnish first, to waterproof them and given them two coats of acrylic paint as well.  However, until I was confident of my ability to paint a reliable rose, I wasn’t going to take my red and yellow paint anywhere near them.

It was then that I discovered the next challenge.  My basic brand of acrylic paint was not opaque enough to cover the dark green base.  I mixed in some Titanium White with my red and unsurprisingly, got pink…

Determined not to give up at this late stage, I dropped into my local art shop this afternoon to find an answer – which was a few different acrylic paints made more opaque with gouache.  At last!  I have the answer!  (I hope…)

We’ll see.  there’s some way to go, but the pesky pots are drying on my workbench and I’m feeling that the end is in sight.  They still need a bit of tweaking here and there, not to mention a few squiggles and dots…but I think that after all of that, I will at least have a painted pot!

I was glad I dropped into the art shop, anyway, because whilst I was chatting to the owner, a friend from the old school run, someone else recognised my voice. What fun is it to bump into friends in surprising places!

Thankfully, I can report that my cold is on the way out now and though I’m still coughing, I haven’t needed the second bottle of Benylin yet.  I have a sneaky suspicion though, that my hero is going to need me to replenish the eucalyptus oil in the USB  burner and return it to his desk…

Testing the breadbox theory

My desk is in a terrible state this morning and sitting here, feeling sorry for myself and woolly headed because of my cold, I thought it was time to do something about it.

I figured that it’s one of those minimum effort/maximum results kind of exercise – or at least, that’s what I hope.

I was further motivated by this article, found whilst I was procrastinating (mooching around the internet) and especially liked the idea to hide any stray post-it notes under the keyboard.

Except…

I thought of that one already!

It’s interesting that any “how to declutter” article includes pictures with empty – or nearly empty – shelves in it.  Now, if we had empty shelves and places to put things, perhaps our desks wouldn’t be quite so cluttered?  Which brings me to think that I ought to clear some space in the cupboards in my studio and empty a shelf or two…

Suddenly I feel even worse than I did when I began this series of thoughts.  Today is definitely one for the Breadbox Test and any further, deeper measures to declutter will have to wait for another day. 

It didn’t last long…

 

We woke to rain this morning.