Gertsamtkunstwerk

Three Stand-Ins at the Royal Opera House

Last Wednesday

Best if I get my carping out of the way first.  As I'm sure everybody knows, this concert was originally meant to be Rolando Villazón accompanied by Tony Pappano on piano. When Rolando had to withdraw for health reasons, I felt disappointed;  Dmitri Hvorostovsky being announced as replacement largely mitigated my disappointment.

But on Monday, a further announcement: Dima was withdrawing, due to a throat infection, or an injury, or a publicised alimony case, or something.

Of course I accept that such things happen; of course I know that the ROH was offering full refunds, no questions asked. I declined that refund (although, being in a box with friends complicates the matter!).  Of course I know that to pull together a programme at two to five day's notice takes some doing. So my moans are very much a case of grumbling, rather than 'I've been wronged and demand redress.' No blame, just a honest account of my feelings.

I can't say I was bowled over by the presence of three singers, none of whom float my boat. Each of the three is widely praised, so this is very much a 'taste' thing, not some silly notion of confusing my personal preferences with objective assessment of ability. And, in fairness, none of them are singers that have ever driven me to cover my ears in aural pain. But I have chosen not to attend the operas they are in this summer, which perhaps says what has to be said

Beforehand in the pub, a group of us had a sweepstake going on what would be in the concert. My guesses were so wide of the mark as to be embarrassing. In the hiatus between announcements of Rolando's hiatus and Dmitri's replacement, someone had suggested Ian Bostridge, on account of a Lieder recital she had heard him give with Tony, at Edinburgh I think. I was firm, I don't go to an opera house to hear Lieder.

The programme wasn't available until we arrived in the house, and my heart sank. It was almost as if the only item I knew was 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'. And I certainly don't go to the opera house to hear pop songs.

Another quibble was that as far as I could see the performers were not centre stage. I suppose it's customary for the piano to be to the side; singers often cling to the area round the piano. But for a house notorious for its poor sight-lines from the side, I think a more central position would have been better.

As for the performers. I am a bit naughty saying the Three Stand-Ins because it was billed as Antonio Pappano and Friends, the friends being singers Joyce Di Donato, Joseph Calleja and Thomas Hampson, and Vasco Vassiliev, violin.

I can't really criticise their performances, well, I feel it would be nit-picky to do so. I did not like Joyce's programme one bit. Various Rossini arias I didn't know (I don't like Rossini) and, as well as 'Rainbow', some Jerome Kern, also not my bag. I thought she should have left the jazz-style stuff well alone, although Tony demonstrated he has great Jazz hands. But she didn't seem to realise that you have some swing, some syncopation, to sound like you do jazz.

I thought Joseph Calleja was clearly second rate. I won't dispute that his basic voice contains a beauty that, on the whole, he uses well. But he simply didn't do anything for me. I soon bored of his O souverain O juge O pere; he didn't seem to want to convey a story to me. He had started with some songs that interested me not, and his final solo piece was 'Because', which, I think, takes considerable balls to perform without any sense of irony. And I was not the only one who noticed that he seems to have had a hair-transplant or be wearing a wig, or something. And on the style front: black suit, black shirt. Should have ditched the white or silver tie and worn the shirt open at the neck.

I suppose if I came away with a positive, it was Thomas Hampson. Not that he actually sang anything from opera, which was remiss in an opera house (but see above). He sang a Mahler song cycle, which was all well and good, but in the absence of surtitles or printed words, and without any prior warning, those of us who didn't previously know the cycle were left guessing as to what it was about. It sounded impressive and I got the distinct impression he was telling a story. I also liked the two songs he sang from his upcoming American song CD.

I know a lot of people have tended to be understanding and forgiving to the ROH in what were trying circumstances. And I stress once again that they offered a full refund at every stage of this saga.

But I did think - suppose I had paid £80 for a stalls seat, and ended up with a recital I wouldn't have paid £30 for at the Barbican. Because of the circumstances, it would have been far better to cancel than to present a ragbag of unconnected works without anything that resembled a structured programme, and, with the exception of a rather fine Pearlfishers' Duet from Hampson and Calleja at the end, nothing that actually involved the various non-Pappano participants singing together.

And of course, I am very grateful for the artists who agreed to perform at such short notice, although I assume they also got an appearance fee none of them would have budgeted for.

Despite what you may think from this review, I did enjoy the show, although I am sure that is largely due to the convivial company, and the several glasses of wine rather than to the substance of the concert.

The Best of Andrew Lloyd Webber

Not merely the best of ALW, but the Best of him as played by the BBC Concert Orchestra. That is, without words.

I swear that I did not buy this. Possibly it fell off the front of a magazine, more likely,  judging by the inlay card, and specifically the phrase Licensed from Ian Summers Promotions, this was bought by some fiancé of mine who shall remain nameless to save his blushes. In his defence, the only place he buys CDs is in pubs when people come round selling rejects from jukeboxes.

And you can see why this was Rejected from Jukeboxes.

I am not a fan of Andrew Lloyd-Webber. I have slightly enjoyed several of his musicals and very enjoyed Joseph, especially but not exclusively because of Jason Donovan. I just think that ALW is massively over-rated by those who think he's the bee's knees. Disposable derivative formulaic pop (and rumour has it he doesn't even write his own orchestrations).

But were I to be a massive ALW fan, taking comfort in the predictable melodies and confusing their familiarity and easy-digestibility with greatness, I would buy the Original Cast soundtrack album. Or I would buy a compilation album culled from various OCs, featuring the big hit songs with the singer who made them famous. Or I would buy an album with a variety of really great singers taking on the Lloyd Bank's opus. I wouldn't buy an orchestra-only album.

I can see such an album having some use in some bar or restaurant which wants insipid background music. On the other hand would you want to eat in a restaurant that plays instrumental Lloyd Webber as background. I know I wouldn't! Perhaps these tracks have a place in a much larger compilation called Familiar tunes that don't offend too many people if played not too loud. Catchy it ain't.

Carols from Kings - not good

It's the same every year, I put it on, hoping for some enjoyable music.

And every year I am disappointed.

It's rubbish. Really rubbish. Every single carol they sing sounds exactly the same. It's like they have a set formula and that's all they do. All they can do.  A total lack of understanding that different pieces are written in different ways. No consideration that they maybe have different tempi, maybe within the same tune. No grasp of the fact that some of them have rhythm.

This was epitomised by Three Kings from Far Off Lands, which, in my experience and opinion is quite a funky tune. You would never have guessed it from the way they sang it. The whole thing was so dreary. I was just hoping for the organist to open the stops and do a crashing fugue, or for someone in the choir to put their head back, relax their shoulders and sing out with joy. It was never going to happen

I am critical of Katherine Jenkins because the way she sings everything without differentiation in tone and without seeming to care about the meaning of the song. So I shouldn't spare these who are no less guilty.

To think that this programme is broadcast over the world as some example of Best of British. It's quite shameful, really, and hardly surprising that people in more civilised countries, and the USA too, consider Britain to be a musical backwater, knowing little and caring less.

The whole thing reeked of amateurism and provincialism. In reality of course, there are lots of exciting musicians performing great music intelligently and/or passionately the length and breadth of the country. But all we get is a bunch of effete snobs being on the TV just because they have been (and radio) for decades.

Obscure musical borrowings

I am ever so slightly fascinated by how pieces of pop music derive form classical. Some are obvious such as Beach Boys' Lady Linda. In some people don't believe me - Bee Gees (and Steps) Tragedy from Siegfried's Funeral March. In Which Decade, Mike drew my attention to Saint-Saens "Organ" Symphony/ If I Had Words - Scott Fitzgerald & Yvonne Keeley with the St. Thomas More School Choir.

Last week I put on a CD of Tchaikovsky's Serenade for Strings, which I've had for years, and immediately thought "That's Deacon Blue's Goodnight Jamsie"

I am currently listening to Penella's Il Gato montes and I hear Sylvia Vrethammar's Y Viva Espana. I suppose it's conceivable they both 'borrowed' a folk tune.

Darcy - the End

It was nice that BBC2 showed the final performance of Ballerina Darcy Bussell actually live on proper terrestrial TV - second half only. Bit of a turn up for the books, isn't there a golf or snooker competition somewhere in the world demand hours of coverage.

I really don't know much about ballet, but I know what I like, and I can kind of tell the difference between really excellent and okay-ish. It's like I watch and enjoy without the slightest real understanding of what I'm seeing or how to describe it in objective terms. I do know Mahler's Das Lied von der Erde but being a bit thick it did take me time to workout that that would be the music for 'Song of the Earth'. No doubt there was meaning in the dances, meaning which would perhaps have been clearer for me if there had been subtitles for the singing (Catherine Wyn-Rogers and David Rendall, seeing as though you asked). I most certainly enjoyed it,and so did my other half.

Was not quite sure of the talk beforehand. I know enough about ballet to question the assertion that Darcy is the greatest British ballet dancer ever. I kind of don't like 'greatest...ever' assertions, it triggers an oppositionist response in me. In this case I did ask "Doesn't Margot Fonteyn count as a British ballet dancer?" This was then followed by some stupid guff about how Darcy brought ballet to ordinary people. Again, I have to say Fonteyn? Nureyev? Wayne Sleep for crying out loud. I don't know the meejah get this ridiculous notion about 'ordinary people'. Let's be honest, there always has been a lumpen proletariat that cares nothing about anything cultural, or indeed anything that involves, you know, thought - Ee I Oh? Do people really not know that bacon comes from a farm?*

There are further sets of people who are theoretically interested but don't pursue that interest - money, time, lack of habit; there are more again who think they're interested but only at a very superficial, ignorant level - like me with ballet, and art, and drama. And literature, too, for that matter. And there are people who are genuinely committed in their interest; I suspect the number that were influenced by someone 'bringing it to the people' tends to zero. And then Katherine Jenkins** pops up and posits the theory that she's very like Darcy in making things more accessible. Nothing like sticking your falling-out boobs nose where it doesn't belong. Darcy has been called the greatest British dancer (of her generation); Barbie sells pisspoor records to the undiscerning.

So, farewell then Darcy Bussell. Nice evening. As I have never seen her dance live, her retirement won't change my life. But an excerpt was shown from a ballet and I have a feeling that it might have been the very first ballet I saw. Not with her, obviously, she was only 8 at the time. But it rung a bell - MacMillan's Elite Syncopations.

*actually, I think this survey is crap: if you ask someone where bacon comes from, and they say 'the supermarket' or 'Denmark', those aren't wrong answers. They don't mean that people don't know the pig-farm connection, just that they were asked the wrong question
** shouldn't she be rehearsing for an opera? Oh, I forgot, nobody's actually cast her in one..

Tasmin Little goes busking

Playing great music in unexpected locations

Feeling a tad guilty at invading the homeless man's patch, we approach him to explain. He gives Little's violin the once-over, then asks, in an Italian accent: "Is that a Stradivarius?" He, like the violin, is from Cremona...Towards the end of the first movement, Little is recognised for the first time. A couple in their early thirties do a visible double-take: their legs almost buckle with astonishment. "It's Tasmin Little, isn't it?" they cry. "What's she doing here?" Then they plough on. Did they recognise her straight off? "Yes - but actually, we're members of the Philharmonia Orchestra..." But wouldn't they want to stop and listen? "We'd love to - but we've got to catch a train!"

And the paragraph that is worthy of filing under 'how many ways do (some) parents hate their children':

We're about to call it a day, when the most striking incident of all takes place. Another family is passing, with two children aged about six and four. The four-year-old girl stares at Little and wants to stop. Her mother pulls her hand. The child seriously wants to stop. A veritable tug-of-war ensues. The little girl plants her feet solidly on the ground and won't budge. She's absolutely determined to stop and hear the music. In a desperate last-ditch attempt to catch the family train, her mother simply scoops her up and carries her away. We watch, jaws dropping. If this is all the encouragement children get when they want to sample good music, no wonder the country's classical culture is in dire straits.

Cr***o**r backlash

I want it all and I want it now-Arts & Entertainment - a fairly interesting article on Nicky Spence who despite having made a bit of a name as purveyor of cr**so**r, is embarking on tour with English Touring Opera, which seems a sensible move for a 23-year-old with obvious potential.

Quite an interesting career move. I suppose by doing the cr**so**r album and appearances, he has managed to boost his income whilst also maintaining a repertory of serious works in obscure but serious locations. Many singers at his stage in their career will be struggling to pay the bills, so I can't really knock that. He seems to be quite internet and marketing savvy.  And I suppose the same applies to Alfie Boe and Natasha Marsh. A great quote from Nicky

I want to have a long career as a tenor,” he begins. “And I want people to know that I’m a proper singer, that I don’t just sing with Katherine Jenkins on the TV.

Ooh, get you Nicky!

Meanwhile, in the Classic FM magazine (I only bought it because Eyebrows and Trebs are on the front cover), Natalie Wheen has a splendid vent, titled 'I only want to hear artists with that extra dimension' which is worth reading in its entirety, but in summary:

I'm haunted by the voice of Lorraine Hunt Lieberson...So few singers ever reach that intensity of performing, even among the very top names. I listen and think 'Hello? Is anyone there in your head? What's this all about?' And I don't even begin to include here those sweet innocents who think singing is about swallowing a microphone, showing us cleavage and crooning saccharine arrangements......

....Maria Callas....Elizabeth Schwarzkopf....Bryn Terfel....Sarah Connolly....Soile Isokoski....Nina Stemme.....It only takes a few notes to get hooked by a great artist.

Which is all well and good, but the first letter in the magazine is from some silly bint who says "I would be interested to know the identity of this 'elite' group of people from the classical world who apparently reject Il Divo...Il Divo have succeeded in doing what previous classical favourites have been unable to do: they have brought classical music to the ordinary people and I defy anyone not to be moved by them"

It is tempting to write a letter in reply, but I really can't be arsed. I remember an expression from years ago - there's none so blind as those who cannot see - which I am sorely tempted to change to: there's none so deaf as those that cannot hear.

The only response to that letter writer, as to the first commenter (listed at the bottom) on the Times article is to just say 'listen'. Listen through the marketing. Understand that the record companies are happy to throw together a compilation album of pop songs interspersed with the odd aria for these wannabes, who will then tour the country playing every parochial venue, croon into microphones and come up with the pat answers on local radio, ensuring that the suggestible Middle Englanders lap up yet another overpriced disposable product.

I would also question what the writer actually means by 'brought classical music to the ordinary people'. She refers to an Il Divo concert she went to, and one assumes it wasn't in her front room, so she went out to it. Presumably because she had originally heard them on the radio or telly. So by that does she mean that Il Divo are played on Cr**so**r FM? Since radio began, the great artists have appeared. The first recording star was Enrico Caruso, who sold millions of shellac 78s. Does it in fact suggest that Classic FM are failing to play the great artists so that the silly letter writer from Horsham doesn't get to hear them? Even though Natalie Wheen is quite clear in her artistic judgement? Does that not suggest that what is played on Cr**so**r FM is influenced more by commercial than artistic considerations? If people don't understand that, they should hesitate before writing  their opinion.

And when it is obvious that those that praise Russell Watson or Il Divo have never heard proper singers (or else there is something wrong with their hearing) they should just shut up. I would not claim to have much musical ability, and I always accept that, up to a point,  taste is a personal matter.  If I can tell the difference between a great or good singer with technique, musicality and a VOICE, and some crooner who struggles for pitch and tone, let alone any nuance of interpretation, how can it be so difficult for those who are probably more innately musical than me. I can only conclude that they are lazy and inexperienced, which is their right, but their opinions are baseless and worthless. In any case, I would wish someone would point out from which part of the classical/opera repertoire Nights in White Satin, Unbreak My Heart and Unchained Melody come from.

Incidentally, the article on Anna and Rolando is yet another example of condescending lazy journalism

Rolando Villazón and Anna Netrebko bring a much-needed injection of youth and beauty into the world of classical music....not only do these 30-somethings look and sound great together, but there's also a natural chemistry between them...

Do I sit here and list the numerous singers, pianists, violinists etc who would qualify under these criteria of youth and beauty? Do I sit here and list the numerous singers in their 50s and 60s, often but not necessarily physically beautiful, who continue to bring extraordinary pleasure to those that attend their performances and listen to their records. Or do I ask whether a music lover would prefer to hear a performance by someone who looks a bit ugly but sounds great, or a dollybird/hunk with a crap sound? I could never imagine Thomas Quasthoff being played by Classic FM, let alone featuring on their magazine cover, which just means that this extraordinary and versatile artist (opera, Lied, jazz - that's crossover!) is unknown by the Il Divo/Katherine Jenkins-worshipping fools. Their loss.

Cr***o**r

Prompted by an interesting discussion* on a private yahoo group, I aired my thoughts on Cr***o**r, which is such an imprecise, ill-defined term which means something different to everybody.

I thought long and hard about what to contribute, and, despite it being long,rambling and full of examples, it does encapsulate my thoughts fairly comprehensively.

So I thought I would reproduce it here:

I think there's a big difference between Bryn-does-crossover and Katherine Jenkins.

Okay, I won't talk about Bryn, I'll talk about Plácido. Pláci didn't start off as an opera singer, but in zarzuela, which is operetta. Not in a G&S way but in a light opera way. His first job outside his parents' company (apart from playing piano in a bordello) was in the chorus of My Fair Lady. He is passionately evangelical about zarzuela and he is a big fan of musicals. His other big crossover thing is mariachis, rancheras etc, the music he grew up with (when he first started courting Marta, he would hire a mariachi band and serenade under her window, at which point the neighbours would call the police, who would tell him to hurry up and finish or else they'd have to arrest him).

But throughout the Sixties and Seventies he was pretty solidly performing as an opera singer, on which he built his reputation. If you look at his crossover records, be it "The Broadway I Love" or "100 anos di mariachi", they are very much a side thing, thrown together in a recording studio late at night to warm down his voice after Otello or Ghermann or Parsifal. Other than the occasional hastily thrown together video, he doesn't actively promote them. I'm not saying the record company doesn't, and he tossed off a track from Italia ti amo at the Crossover Brits. That was recorded in Budapest in between conducting stints in Vienna, and was combined with a visit for a stadium concert, the Formula 1 Grand Prix, a Racing Drivers vs Celebrities charity football match and sightseeing. In other words, Plácido's idea of a holiday.

The Three Tenors were amazingly successful for a variety of reasons. Firstly, three of the world's top singers not far past the peaks of their careers; secondly, the Jose Carreras leukaemia story; thirdly, it being promoted as part of the World Cup Italia 90. Album at number one in the charts. Goodness the record companies thought, there is a market out there for this sort of thing. Oh but these guys already have exclusive record contracts elsewhere, or are too busy performing in operas, and know their market value, so demand enormous fees. On the general basis that if you want to emulate a success, replicate it, first as tragedy (Andrea Bocelli) then as farce (Katherine Jenkins).

Crossover was so coined (or stolen from punk rock, ) because established Classical Artists crossed over into non-classical territory.

I don't suppose Bryn spends a great deal of time recording his crossover albums, and as far as I know doesn't set off on hectic multiple location tours complete with numerous appearances on Daytime TV, because he's got other things to do with his life. Plácido has justified the $1 million per night fee for the 3Ts on the basis that in general classical musicians do not get paid what pop stars or sports stars do and doing the occasional 3T concert doesn't interfere with his opera schedule; he's managed to be at every World Cup Final since 1982. And I imagine Bryn's pension fund is nicely boosted by the royalties from crossover.

I don't see it as any different from when good serious actors do adverts and voice-overs; it's not artistically pure, but it's a good fat fee for relatively little time commitment or effort. I'd do it, too. But they don't regard it as a career pinnacle, and they don't cite their ads to demonstrate what great actors they are. I'm a fan of Christopher Ecclestone, not for his voice overs but because of the long list of splendid portrayals in films and TV series. Similarly, I think Tony Blair is funny and entertaining on chat shows, but I would despair if he was judged that way, either by voters or by history.

What I hoped to imply, but didn't spell out was as one participant** said

Katherine Jenkins, Russell Watson et al do not 'crossover'...what are they crossing from?

The one definition of cr***o**r we didn't get onto is more problematic. Although if it was being pedantic I would call it fusion. This is where a composer writes a piece of music which is classical in idiom but influenced by rock or 'world' etc music , or when they write a pop song which follows the structure and rubric of classical. I think that can be excellent if done with inspiration, sensitivity and, um, talent, but it can end up sounding like a dismal attempt to be down and grooving with the cool dudes or a misconceived pretence at aspiring to something without the requisite skills.

* which I won't replicate here, because I don't think it's right to breach the expectation of privacy and the freedom to be candid

** who is welcome, if she wishes, to reclaim authorship of her wisdom

Search special

I post stuff on here with barely a glance to my Site Stats

(Actually, that isn't - I analyse my Site stats with anxiety and know that, like it or not, I've got to keep posting about Pláci; and if I ever saw Jonny Wilkinson naked I'd be click, click, clicking away merely for the sake of blogging).

Sometimes I post stuff and don't even think how the Googlers will pick up on it.

But in the past week or so a surprise hit (to me) has been - Art Thou Troubled?

Art thou troubled? Music will calm thee Art thou weary? Rest shall be thine Music, source of all gladness heals thy sadness at her shrine. Music, music ever divine. Music, music calleth with voice divine.

Doesn't matter what music you like, for me, at any rate, those words are divine. Made celestial by the music of Handel, but, wow! Fucking amazing. And my Googlers say so, too! About to be elevated into the Gert Pantheon of Vital Quotes

Music Meme

Picked up from the internet!

The instructions were to put my music player on "shuffle" , ask the question and then push "play" to see what comes up.

1. How does the world see you?

Salut! Demeure chaste et pure (from Gounod's Faust)

2. Will I have a happy life?

Single Girl: Lush

3. What do my friends really think of me?

Mein lieber Hippolyte (from Struass's Rosenkavalier)

Hippolyte was queen of the Amazons, a tribe of women warriors

4. Do people secretly lust after me?

Angel - Adam Ant

5. How can I make myself happy?

Bella figlia dell'amore (from Verdi's Rigoletto)

Well, I wouldn't over-analyse the libretto, but listening to music as superbly beautiful as this will at least lift the spirits, if not guarantee everlasting happiness.

6. What should I do with my life?

Some Might Say - Oasis

7. Will I ever have children?

Somedays I See the Point - Billy Bragg

It's not a helpful answer to this question, but a fabulous anthem for life:

Never saw a meaningful tv advert, I don’t think shopping is a metaphor for life
Don’t waste my time at the gym in the morning, try to keep trim by living my life

Every day and in every way Billy speaks to me.

8. What is some good advice for me?

Wild is the Wind - David Bowie

You touch me, I hear the sound of mandolins
You kiss me
With your kiss my life begins
You're spring to me, all things to me
Don't you know, you're life itself!

9. How will I be remembered?

High and Dry - Radiohead

Never high, rarely dry...

10. What is my signature dancing song?

Voulez Vous - Abba

11. What do I think my current theme song is?

The Housatonic at Stockbridge - Charles Ives

12. What does everyone else think my current theme song is?

North Sea Bubble - Billy Bragg

13. What song will play at my funeral?

O Come Everyone That Thirsteth - from Mendelssohn's Elijah

14. What type of women / men do you like?

Pursue thy Conquest (from Purcell's Dido & Aeneas

15. What is my day going to be like?

Art Thou Troubled? (from Handel's Rodelinda)

Art thou troubled? Music will calm thee
Art thou weary? Rest shall be thine
Music, source of all gladness heals thy sadness at her shrine.
Music, music ever divine.
Music, music calleth with voice divine.

When the welcome spring is smiling,
all the earth with flow'rs beguiling after winter's dreary reign,
sweetest music doth attend her,
heavenly harmonies doth lend her,
chanting praises in her train.

Fabulous

I don't tag people and when I'm tagged I have a mental block, but the challenge is yours, should you wish to take it!

* I currently have about half of my collection on Zerlina

The Embarrassing CD

I held out posting this until after midnight, because while it was playing I looked at the date and gasped - it was seven years ago to the day (yesterday).

I bought this for one reason and one reason only. Indeed, I watched it on TV for one reason and one reason only. Part of my contract with myself is that I will play every CD and tape in the collection without fear or favour. But I have to say, I did fast forward through that dreadful speech by the odious brother and through the drippy prayers from the drippy archbish.

I only bought it because an ex-boyfriend of mine played the organ at Diana's funeral. Not that he actually gets a namecheck, oh no. Stupid bloody Royal Family - he only played his organ for an audience of 4 billion but not one bloody name check.

But if you listen, I'll think you'll work out who the actual star of this of this CD is. Forget your Chuckie Spencer and your Srelton John, and your Tony Blair.

The undisputed star of the CD of Diana's funeral is the Organist. And not one name check on the CD.

He played marvellously, of course...

Yn gwneud benyd

Yn cael made rhyw anti - Cymraeg sylwadau rhyw fisoedd yn �l Fi awron angen at arddangos a fi m mo 'n sylweddol anti - Cymraeg*

This is the sort of 'crossover' that works - almost. I say almost, because I can't for one moment see the point of Aled Jones singing Bridge Over Troubled Water. Actually, I don't really see the point of Aled Jones.

Two discs bought from a souvenir shop near Caenarfon Castle on my last week of Welsh Office Agriculture Department audit - The Great Welsh Male Choirs and C�n o gymru

A good mix, partly of Male Voice choirs, which I adore, and some facinating solo stuff. Especial favourites , a very percussive Gwŷr Harlech, sounding as if recorded in a steam railway station; Stuart Burrows singing Calon L�n; There's A Valley Called the Rhondda; the Llanelli Male voice Choir in a marvellous Amazing Grace; We'll Keep A Welcome;Take Me Home; Coedmor; one of the best 'Hebrew Slaves' in my collection; Gounod's Soldiers Chorus, as you've never heard it before; and 5,000 voices singing Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau

But the very best of all, a playagainagainagain song is Morte Christe - When I Survey The Wondrous Cross. Many things divide the Welsh and English, but in my sincere opinion, this is the greatest divide of all.

If you are English and have ever been to Mass at Easter, especially on Good Friday, you will have sung When I Survey, to a really crap tune. Why? When there is this amazing Welsh tune, sung here by 1,000 voices of the North Wales Male Choir Association. It's not the (pre-refurb) Albert Hall organ that makes the hairs on my arms stand up - it's the tune. And those Welsh Male Voices. I just love the masculinity of them, the fact that they're always measured and controlled...

*Okay, I don't speak Welsh - at all - but even I know it's a computer generated translation, from the internet

Divas

Two compilation albums: Ultimate Divas was bought on a sultry evening at Dupont Circle, almost exactly five years ago. An interesting range of singers, from Billie Holiday to Annie Lennox, and introducing me to some singers that were previously only names, names I really need to explore further. One of the songs is Gladys Knight's Midnight Train to Georgia. An indifferent song, but we had arrived in Washington on an overnight train from Boston, and later flew out to New Orleans, changing planes at Atlanta Georgia.

Highlights include Lena Horne's Stormy Weather; Dinah Washington's What A Difference a Day Makes; Toni Braxton's Unbreak My Heart and of course Judy Garland singing Over The Rainbow. Worst song of all is Aretha Franklin 'singing' Nessun Fucking Dorma.

Divas of Jazz was bought just over a year ago as a lunchbreak retail therapy. Fortunately, "Jazz" is a very loose term; instead it contains a range of good songs that are vaguely related to Jazz, and a few Classic Jazz numbers. Highlights are All That Jazz - Ute Lemper (from Chicago); Billie Holiday singing Stormy Weather (I think I like Stormy Weather...!), Peggy Lee singing Black Coffee (although I prefer kd lang's version...); Love and Affection - Joan Armatrading (you know, I would have hated this when I was a kid); Ella Fitzgerald's Manhattan; Erma Franklin's (Take A Little) Piece of My Heart; and Dinah Washington's Cry Me A River.

We joke that PP Arnold's Angel of the Morning is my theme song - because I don't do mornings, right!

A very special mention should go to Dinah Washington's Mad About the Boy, especially the words, which, I think, will strike a chord with all of us who indulge in Celebrity Crushes®

Mad about the boy,
I know it’s stupid to be mad about the boy,
I’m so ashamed of it, but must admit
The sleepless nights I’ve had about the boy.
On the silver screen,
He melts my foolish heart in ev’ry single scene,
Although I’m quite aware that here and there,
Are traces of a cad about the boy.
Lord knows I’m not a fool girl,
I really shouldn’t care.
Lord knows I’m not a schoolgirl,
In the flurry of her first affair.
Will it ever cloy?
This odd diversity of misery and joy.
I’m feeling quite insane and young again
And all because I’m mad about the boy.

Written by Noel Coward

Pressies

I've got none.

But my sister warned me they would be delivered between the 6th and the 9th. But I've now had a peak, and this is what I shall be getting: The Oxford Companion to Music, The Complete Flanders and Swann and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time.

From my fiance I'm getting a dirty weekend. I expect nothing from my brother. Seeing as though he has not yet received his Christmas pressie from me...!

Down with the 'Queen'

The Grauniad asks: Does Britain have the world's worst national anthem?

Regular readers will know that this is a lietmotif of this blog - here, here and here.

It's a bit pathetic that three quarters of a million people can take to the streets in a benign display of positive nationalism and not actually have a National Anthem. God help us if Swing Low is adopted, though. It sounds just about tolerable when sung by a gospel choir. Chanted tunelessly by a crowd of varying musical ability it really is quite awful.

Hoffnung

Mike Troubled Diva's Aunt Cyn mentions Flanders and Swann, and helpfully provides a link to Amazon. Before I clicked on the link, I had a distant memory slide in from the recesses of my mind and googled for Gerard Hoffnung. For some reason, they are indelibly linked in my mind, a distant memory of an autumnal Sunday post-lunch when my father played his F&S and Hoffnung records (vinyl? They were 78s...) and I devoured the cartoons from the bookcase with the glass doors.

Amazon helpfully tells us that people who bought Flanders and Swann also bought Hoffnung. So it's not just me.

I. will. not. commit. more.money. to. Amazon.

Consequences...

It started binning it down at lunchtime. I knew I had to be out of the office when pizza and champagne was served.

I dashed over to the station, but realised that I did not fancy a walk down Victoria Street. I had my brolly with me but did not fancy battling the umbrella-wielding wave of civil servants. Just to buy a sandwich and return to my desk would take barely quarter of an hour. So I went to WH Smith - not exactly the best record shop, even on Victoria Station. Ouch, I spent far too much money. I bought:

• Divas of Jazz;
• Songbirds;
• Chick Flicks The Sequel;and,
• Classical Gold

When I got them home, I looked in horror...I don't like Jazz...

But on first hearing - thus far, incomplete - I would definitely recommend Divas of Jazz. As long as you like a tune, and a bit of mood, don't let that ghastly word, Jazz, put you off.

Or am I getting middle-aged?

Music

Currently playing: Gorau Corau Meibion Cymru and cân o gymru.

Really amazing music. In the eyes (ears?) of some, probably naff music.

I don't care.

Music is the greatest power on earth. Music is closer to emotions than anything else. Music is how to worship your God without the corrupt intervention of religion. Music articulates better than words. Music is more passionate than sex. Music is the key to dancing. Music paints bigger pictures than artists.

And plagal cadences twang a very particular string of the heart.