The Joy of Music

For a few years at secondary school I learned the violin. Unfortunately, I lacked the talent, and the application to become anything other than a beginner, but what I did learn was an immense respect for any instrumentalist who is really good, as well as an appreciation of classical, and, throughout life, of other forms of music.  Many years later, each summer, this enjoyment is given a boost through the availability of the Prom Concerts on Radio 3 and BBC TV.  These provide a substitute for actually attending the concerts, and provide an experience which is different from being a member of the audience, remote from the performers on a distant stage.

Recently there have been two contrasting concerts which, nonetheless, shared one thing in common: in both cases, the instrumentalist was a female violinist.  The first was Nicola Benedetti playing the lushly romantic Korngold violin concerto, a work which she clearly loves performing, an enjoyment which she shared with the orchestra and with her listeners and watchers.  What a TV performance like this provides is a view of the interaction between the solist, the conductor and the orchestra as together they make music.  There are moments of intimacy, flashes of humour, displays of team work.

The second event could not have been more different. Instead of a glamorous young woman fronting an orchestra, there was a solitary soloist on the Albert Hall stage.  Dressed in black, Alina Ibragimova  appeared to be a vulnerable figure, just her and her fiddle.  This was musical performance reduced to is essentials: a player and an instrument.  From the opening notes of the Bach sonata which was the first part of her performance, it was clear that Ibragimova was in complete control, and for ninety minutes, and from memory, she performed some of the greatest music ever composed: Bach's sonatas and patitas for solo violin.  It was a breathtaking performance.

This evening I've been 'attending' a performance of the Eastern Divan Orchestra, of which the highlight was the Beethoven Triple concerto.  Here was a chamber trio -- piano, violin and cello -- making music with an orchestra conducted by the pianist, Daniel Barenboim. What was so great was to see the interaction among the trio and their interaction with the orchestra.  A wonderful evening's music making.

And now, a complete change: the final part of a series of Frank Sinatra.  Such is the rich diversity of music and an enjoyment which had its start with my very, very modest attempts as a violinist.

It's a dog's life

When I was growing up on a sheep farm in New Zealand, there were dogs as part of the working life of the farm.  They lived in kennels, and we weren't encouraged to make pets of them. There was also another reason for treating dogs with a certain amount of distance. At that time, a particularly hasty parasitic diseas, hydatids, was a probem, and dogs had regularly to be dosed to purge them, as dogs are hosts in the life cycle of this parasite. http://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/bhcv2/bhcarticles.nsf/pages/tapeworms_and_hydatid_disease

So, this meant that my contact with dogs was at a distance, and although we always had at least one cat as part of the family, we never had a pet dog.  Nor many years later, did we have either a cat or dog so our children grew up without the benefit of pets.  Possibly for this reason, a couple of years ago my son and daughtrer-in-law (who have two horses between them), acquired a terrier called Rosie.

Rosie is a mixture of terrier breeds, with Jack Russell predominating.  She quickly started to find her way into our affections, which prompted some thoughts on the long standing relationship between her species and mankind.  It's very clear that Rosie is very adept at reading the mood of the members of her human tribe, which includes not only her nuclear family (Patriarch, Matriarch & Juvenile) but of her extended family.  Surprisingly, my wife, also brought up in a pet free household, has quite taken to Rosie (fortunately, the feelings are reciprocated) and she is now a very welome guest in our household. In fact, when Rosie had been handed over to her other grandparental family, and our house was now dogless, my wife commented that it seemed to be funny without Rosie.

Rosie has come to associate me with long walks which take her into terrier heaven, a world full of woodland and rural scents -- and rabbits (lambs she's less certain of).  While scampering around, she quickly picks up rabbit trails, and then enters the totally focussed world of the hunter.  Instructions to return are ignored.  The hapless dog walker (me) has to wait until the thrill of the chase has worn off.

So, we now have a member of the family who, without fail, demonstrates delight in seeing me and manages to find a way of ensuring that I take her for a walk, come rain or shine.  Truly, it's a dog's life!