A Lark Ascending

When I saw Carey's TV documentary based on his "The Intellectuals and the Masses: Pride and Prejudice among the Literary Intelligentsia, 1880–1939" I found myself punching the air again and again and shouting 'Yes!". Subsequently read the book and his equally entertaining "What Good are the Arts?" He seemed to articulate all my chippy irritation with the world of 'The Arts', whilst still valuing and enjoying what lay within. This is an autobiography of how he went from a modest background (though not that modest...a middle class family that had fallen on slightly harder times) into Oxford (via National Service) and then a career in academia. As with so many biographies the early years are the most interesting - London in the 30s/40s, Nottinghamshire briefly during the war, National service, life as a student and then his early career. His descriptions of the utterly bizarre rituals of Oxford in the 1950s are hilarious. Amazing to think that the Oxford English syllabus stopped in the early 1800s at that time (Michael Gove would approve!) - part of the book describes how the syllabus was slowly dragged into the Victorian era in the 60s and then into the 20thC. He doesn't linger on his combative challenging of the world of 'The Arts' but mainly communicates his love of literature. Last quarter of the book is less interesting - summaries of books he wrote (and the reactions to them) and books he reviewed. Where I fall out with him is in his rosey-eyed faith in the grammar school system - he describes comprehensivisation as a barbaric tragedy. At this point he appears to join the very people he's spent the last twenty years criticising - all the research into the role of grammar schools completely undermines the myth of their being a means of social mobility for clever poor kids. Anyway, he should be delighted today as current educational policy is recreating grammar schools by the back door.

Disc 1. Very old recordings (I suspect the correct adjective to use is 'classic'!). I'm always surprised Martin has not been more widely recorded in recent times given that there is a substantial market for recorded music outside the best known.

Rather cartoony but fun. I spent the three hours thinking I was watching Brad Pitt - only the credits revealed the truth. Long film but I didn't get bored. The main character's speeches reminded me of a certain real life American presidential candidate.

Ended up listening to SQ1 three times. Preceded first listen by reading a couple of guides that were either discursive without pinpointing the structure (designed for people who already had technical knowledge) or too brief to help much. Then, by chance, stumbled on this: Exactly what I needed. You get the whole quartet with the sections clearly marked and colour coded so you can see how each part is interlinked. Went back to the CD and listened again after that. Don't recall ever getting so much out of the music in the many times I've previously listened to it. It won't help with harmonic or thematic development or even how the voices work together (over my head!); but as a structural guide for the non-musician, brilliant. The site it comes from is Beethoven-centric - quite a few others like this. Mainly Beethoven but a few other things as well.

Popped down to the local cinema to see this yesterday evening (20 minutes walk away). Don't know much about Renoir but I remember going to the Jeu de Paume in Paris around 1980 with my sister (who knew a lot more more about paintings than I did) and being struck by the dappled light effects of some of the famous ones. This film is based around his later paintings, with the major focus on the Barnes collection in Philadelphia. Mainly concerns the differences of opinion on that period. Interesting and a very different way of looking at paintings on a huge screen. Can't say I'll be buying a late-Renoir in the near future but I'll go to one of these film of the exhibition things again. Worksop isn't exactly a town of luvvies but there were 30 of us there. *********************** Then back to reality with episode 2 of Happy Valley. Gets grimmer by the minute!

You mean Macbeth?

! + 2. Still don't really get these. New to me...think I'm going to like these. Then donned my dinner jacket, pince-nez and connoisseur scowl for some...ahem...'serious listening': Op 135 and the end of my 5 month odyssey. Before buying this 10-15 years ago I'd been intimidated by the reputation of these quartets (all that bolloxing about sublime utterances) but a chance hearing of the slow movement to this quartet drew me in. As well as that movement I was also especially taken by the fast movement - reminded me of the similar one in the 7th Symphony. Some dodgy recording/transfer moments on this reissue - things that sound like 'flutter' in places. When I first bought it one of the other discs wouldn't play properly and I eventually had to buy the two offending tracks off iTunes. I find that with some of these bargain basement mega-box sets. Can be very careless. Suspect the trouble today was in the transfer to this format. It seems to now have a different cover. Will probably go for a more recently recorded set in the near future and put this one to bed. [Nothing wrong with the playing...as far as I can tell, that is!] No 12. Whenever I set out to listen to this I don't expect much and yet nearly always enjoy it far more than expected. I imagine that I've read so many accounts putting it down that my own reaction gets smothered. Particularly enjoyed the slow movement today. The book I've been using to steer me through the structure of the symphonies and concertos demonstrates very clearly how virtually all the themes are derived from the opening - I'd have never had noticed that on my own but when you know it's there it's obvious. Back to background music: The Britten and Holst are pretty well known but the Bliss is a rare one. Ideal for a beautiful late afternoon with the sun shining.

More bloody culture: "Doctor Faustus" at the Swan Theatre, the smaller room at the RSC in Stratford (with the most extraordinary 'high' seats that have you sitting a mile off the ground). Last had contact with this in June 1973 when I finished my English A Level - it was a set text. Enjoyed it then (eventually, you know how it is with school set texts). Although I'd remembered the broad story line and some of the scenes, hardly any of the text had stuck in my mind apart from the final scene when Faustus is watching the clock. Completely enthralling performance - quite minimalist apart from the costumes and cabaret of the seven deadly sins and the demons. The play struck me as being rather different to Shakespeare - a fairly straight linear plot where Shakespeare has all those sub-plots and comic aside scenes (not sure if I thought that or if I'm just recycling something that I read 40 years ago from the depths of my brain). Can't work out if the resemblance between Faustus and Vladimir Putin was deliberate or accidental...but it added an extra layer of unease. Never really been one for live theatre but I'm starting to understand why people are so hooked on it. Hope to get to "The Tempest" and "King Lear" in the autumn.

There's a moment in the first Penderecki SQ that sounds like the famous shower stabbing music in "Psycho". They're both from 1960 so probably sheer chance. Must have been something in the air.

Lovely crisp, cold, clear day yesterday until 4 and then: Cold enough for a thin layer of the snow to have survived on soil and grass but crisp and clear again. But I wouldn't be surprised if...

Shosty off the latter. One of of my first CD purchases 30 odd years ago. How time flies.

I cannot for the life of me remember the names of the two recent ones I read but recall enjoying them. I'll remember when I read them again and realise thirty pages in that I've read this before. From my limited experience I think the thing the earlier books have is that grey, bleakness. I thought the recent TTSS film caught that extremely well - not just the visuals but in the tense, self-doubting personalities of the characters. I'm going to try working through chronologically over the next few years (there are couple of short early one's I've missed too). Recall enjoying the film of 'The Constant Gardener' (which is on the TV this Friday - I'll record it because it's been a while). Another book that really impressed me in this sort of genre was 'The Quiet American'. Need to read some more Greene.

Reminded of the latter by the recent thread. No. 2. As part of my near chronological journey that started 18 months back - now at 1957. This piece has become very popular in Britain - I think it became a Classic FM listener hit. The slow movement is very direct and beautiful - a bit like the soundtrack to a Cadbury's advert fior Valentine's Day! The book I'm using to get the structure of these symphonies and concertos clearer compares it with Ravel's concerto in G...which I can see, Followed it with some of his film music: Very enjoyable if a bit like a non-stop parade of his scherzos and finales. Two different approaches to 19thC Romanticism - the first very sweet, the second somewhat earnest.

Cold and rather beautiful.

Follows a brother of the principal character of his earlier 'The Whereabouts of Eneas McNulty.' A book where the main character tells his tale as a chap with good intentions yet is revealed to have done some pretty dreadful things. I read a lot of Cold War thrillers and generally have a 'that was good but a bit far-fetched' reaction. Reading this it seems most of them are far from far-fetched. Unbelievable the way that Philby manipulated the old school tie and gentleman's club prejudices of MI6 to stay in the game so long. Now onto this. I read a couple of his classic 60s novels about 20 years back (and have read a couple of his more recent things since). Had quite forgotten how good he is - the understatement, avoidance of leaning too heavily on exact historical events and, above all, the way he captures a rather threadbare, pre-Habitat (very pre-IKEA) Britain. In the light of the Philby book his handling of the snobberies and nasty rivalries within the British Establishment seem spot on.

Isle of the Dead after hearing it by unfashionably alive musicians in Manchester the other night. Brought the whole thing into focus - previously it was the dances that made more of an impression.

No money left for clothes after buying records. My 'style' is based on 3rd division 70s 'we're only in it for thew music, man' Prog-Rock bands (the ones who couldn't afford capes or loon pants).

BBC Phil in Manchester Bartok - Piano Concerto 3 Shostakovich - Symphony 7 'Leningrad ' Another thriller, this time of more familiar pieces. The Leningrad seems to be everywhere at present - I saw Jim mention it a few days back, it's been on TV as a documentary, had a whole book about it a while back and Shosty is the subject of the new Julian Barnes novel. Audience went bananas at the end - no-one shouted 'bravo' although there was a chap in a cloth cap with a whippet who shouted 'champion' in a restrained way. Again, another interesting pre-talk between four musicians exploring how far the back stories of both pieces were necessary to enjoy the music. All four clear, articulate and totally unstuffy. As far as Shostakovich is concerned I very much want to hear 4, 8, 13 and 14 in the flesh. Almost certainly need to keep an eye on London. That's my live longhair quota for a few weeks. Next stop Birmingham for a Handel opera.

Fay Hield and the Hurricane Party in Manchester. Only saw this lot in November but I had a gap on my trip here so thought I'd go again. New album launch - came out today. Although there was a fair overlap with the last time there were some differences in songs chosen, more from the new album. I've seen some major names 15 years apart still doing the same songs...and the same jokes! Really nice 30 minute talk prior to the concert where she described how she came into folk music ("I wasn't a cool kid. Mum was a Morris dancer - I was known to go to school in my Morris kit.") On her album sleeves and publicity she's always portraye as a moody, dark-eyed beauty, looking slightly unhinged on a moor as if she's lost Heathcliffe. In person she's a delightful, warm and very funny dark-eyed beauty whose enthusiasm for music just engulfs you.

Thanks very much, papsrus. Fascinated to see such a similar reaction - especially to Kindertotenlieder. I don't know that site - will have a look when I'm back home.

I've enjoyed most of those Scandinavian series. There was one about some people stuck on an island where people kept getting bumped off that I gave up on after an hour. And I never got beyond episode 1 of 1864 - why does every film about coming war start with two lads falling out over a girl!? There's a new one this Saturday - will catch later on. On the Brit front there's a new Le Carre coming in Two weeks; and one with a theme around the China one child policy on Wednesday looks interesting.

Enjoyed his symphonies (those available) and The Incredible Flutist. Like a lot of mid-century American tonal music, it's suffered from patchy availability. Even the Naxos series never seem to quite complete the cycles. Where unhip British tonal music tends to find champions and get recorded the American equivalent is less fortunate. I particularly like Schuman and Harris (and Copland of course) from those American Socialist Realists.

Halle Orchestra in Manchester Rachmaninov - Isle of the Dead Mahler - Kindentotenlieder Shostakovich - Symphony 15 My, they got this concert so right. All things you won't hear often outside London. I don't know Isle of the Dead well but the programme notes and pre-talk really helped to indicate listening markers. Kindentotenlieder is about as crushing a piece as you'll ever hear - the final song where the music shifts from wild storm music to an ethereal depiction of the children entering paradise had me blubbing. Shostakovich 15 has long been a favourite but I don't think I've ever listened to it so closely before - again the oral/written guides helped as well as being able to zero in on things like the cello feature in the second movement because you see it happening. Excellent pre-talk from one of the horn players - very funny and unstuffy but well informed and giving you lots to listen out for. Best of all, Mark Elder came on at the start of the second half, turned to the audience and spent three minutes passionately explaining why 15 mattered to him. I was already excited to hear the piece but he fired me up even further. I hate the dumb show at classical concerts - it's rare that I've seen a conductor do this. I wish it was more common. The thing that struck me about 15 today was how restrained it is for most of its length - so the impact on those few occasions when the entire orchestra blazes out is overwhelming. I passed a few shell-shocks people saying how they'd never heard this piece before and were stunned by it. One of the best classical concerts I've been to. And a lot of that was down to the determination of the organisers to do more than just play the music.

The symph. The Nightingale