Amy, 24, Melbourne, web designer, piano student, Slytherin, nostalgia (and chocolate) addict, and languisher in all things baroque, rococo, and Tolkien.
I need to post about my picnic (which was a beautiful success) but I’m waiting on some photos because I want to do justice to it, so I have a few other things to regale you with until then!
And now for Wednesday, March 9, Cecilia Bartoli! I had a piano lesson in the afternoon, then spent some time with my mother and sister. I had my hair out for a rare couple of minutes while getting ready and got her to take a photo (I don’t often see it myself, heh). It still seems healthy but it’s time for a tiny trim of those rough ends.
I drove across the mountains, stopped for macarons and bought some flowering teas for my lovely friendJuliette, and finally ended up at my good friend’s house. Along with her parents, she is appearing in Melbourne Opera’s Merry Widow currently, and as they were rehearsing that night I went into the city with them. Unfortunately they had to pass on their Bartoli tickets because it clashed with the rehearsal. I trotted over to the Hall nice and early, standing conspicuously outside in clothing and accessories covered in musical motifs! I became acquainted with a friendly lady called Cara outside, and helped a random older lady reply to a text message. Once the doors opened I purchased a programme only – and finally one not featuring advertisements on every other page – and sat in my lowly second-to-last-row seat. The Town Hall is quite beautiful inside, and I believe had the Hamer Hall been operational Cecilia would’ve performed there.
Cecilia came on-stage looking voluptuous and beautiful in a red gown. She was accompanied the entire time only by pianist Sergio Ciomei which allowed her voice to carry through the hall quite well – and she certainly held our attention and caused us to fall in love with her instantly (at least I hope someone agrees with this, but I couldn’t hear any complaints). This quote from Pianomania sums up the pieces better than I can:
O mia Cecilia! Whatever you have heard on disc or seen on TV, Cecilia Bartoli is exactly that plus some more. Larger than life and donning a stunning red gown, she looks every bit the diva, artist and entertainer all rolled up in one. The programme was straight forward – Italian and French songs accompanied by Sergio Ciomei’s piano. No opera, just art songs from the pens of Rossini, Bellini and Donizetti. Love lost and found, flora and fauna, and the pleasures of a simple peasant life, were all encompassed in these numbers. Bartoli sounded fresh and each song sparkled with life. Her vividness of articulation, which ranged from the most quiet and intimate of moments to full-blooded roars, was just as impressive.
Cecilia gave us an exciting Rataplan, then four encores, ending on Broschi’s Son Qual Nave which simply made my night! It would take a miracle to find someone with a spare Sydney ticket to see the Sacrificiumprogramme, the only Australian concert dedicated to the castrato pieces from the album of the same name. I kept planning how I could take a flight up in the day, go to the concert, then come back to Melbourne afterwards, but there are a dozen other things that must take financial priority! Anyway, straight after she finished I joined the queue to meet her. Cara from earlier joined me and we chatted to another older lady next to us while waiting – they helped me get a photo with Cecilia! She is smaller in real life than people expect, though she has a large presence on stage, and very beautiful. When I reached the front after a long while I briefly thanked Ms. Bartoli and told her how beautiful she (and her music) was that night. She kindly agreed to a photo (our camera always makes my skin and proportion look stupid, but I’m sure it could’ve been worse!) and signed my programme, and I left feeling ecstatic. I know she doesn’t like to fly so if she doesn’t come back to Australia one day, I really hope to see her sing again! What fun!
Yay! I tracked the parcel over the last few days and didn’t expect it to reach my suburb as quickly, but I crawled out of bed today and found my eagerly-awaited box of cuteness on the doorstep. The box had one dint in it (not that I cared) and the item was neatly secured in plastic and tissue paper. The quality of the fabric and dressmaking is very good and the dress was comfortable. I put two petticoats underneath to give it volume, because it needed it. I don’t really wear blouses much yet (most of them don’t suit me) so this will be worn more as a one-piece, which I think it’s better-suited to anyway. I will probably keep the detachable bow on the front and center. The invisible zip is nicely invisible! My goal is to find some pieces that would coordinate well with the outfit, but I improvised with random things I’ve collected over the last few years. There are matching socks on the website but they have sold out in black, which is what would match better. My eyelashes also need to be a little less dramatic. 
I’ve included a bunch of pictures (average quality, sorry!) taken while unwrapping, hanging up, various details, and worn. Since there are no actual cats on the dress I tried to dance with my own black cat, but this just served to annoy him because he was trying to get his dinner.
So, behold Baby, The Stars Shine Bright’s sell-out ’Dance of the Black Cats’ jumperskirt:
It’s been ages since I recorded myself playing, but I though it was appropriate. This is Ravel’s Sonatine Mouvement de Menuet. Please excuse the tone and dynamics – the camera doesn’t pick it up well. My piano actually has a rather nice tone but is out of tune. I think there are a few obvious mistakes to anyone familiar with the second movement, but nevermind!
While I haven’t been in short supply of things to post about, I have been at a loss for how to write it all. Tumblr has been providing a good place to post little snippets that are too insignificant for here but too long (or irrelevant/personal) for FaceBook. I was having an awful lot of fun anonymously posting raunchy Scabior fanfiction to someone I follow on there. I’m putting off revealing myself, eheh, because this person . I even managed to convince Adam to make a Tumblr account for posting random rubbish to, and he christened his with a rather off-colour Dobby joke of his own creation.
I’m going to post each subject in an article of its own, so there will be a bit of a queue of posts!
David Helfgott, Melbourne Recital Centre, November 14th – Seeing Helfgott, whose name sort of sky-rocketed after ‘Shine’, was enjoyable and pretty much as I expected it to be. I figured I’d try and catch the next Melbourne recital he did, before he stops touring! He was gorgeous, inconsistent, and a little more reserved volume-wise, I felt. I had front row tickets because of a nice pre-sale offer. The program, full of very well-known pieces by classical standards (but perhaps not by the general public, who make up a good part of his audiences), and probably David’s favourites, went something like as follows:
Mendelssohn - Andante and Rondo Capriccioso Op14
Liszt
- Années do Pèlerinage No4: Les jeux d’eau a la villa d’este.
-Transcendental Study No8: Wilde Jagd
-Paganini Etude No3 – La Campanella
-Mephisto Waltz No1 i A major, S.514
INTERVAL (some people left at this point, never to return…)
Rachmaninov
-Prelude in C# minor, Op3 No2
-Prelude in G minor Op23 No5
Chopin - Sonata No3 B minor Op58
I think the Chopin was replaced with something else (I wouldn’t pay $15 for the measly programme), and he gave us three encores of the Rach 2nd concerto theme, something I don’t remember, and of course his usual insane version of Flight of the Bumblebee. It was amusing watching Gillian trying to get him off-stage constantly during applauses while he wanted to stay and return our gratitude! What separates him from some renowned pianists is his warmth and connection to the audience. We can forget our criticisms for a moment and just receive what this man wants to share with us.
My piano teacher (who is really becoming my mentor, whether he likes it or not, and who has seen David play many years ago) asked, “were there any moments that were particularly sublime or moving?” I couldn’t think of anything that had really kept me rapt or utterly transported me to some sort of musical and empyrean height, but I’m glad I went.
A lot of little thoughts coursing around lately up top, but none of them really long enough or coherent enough to make up a post! I’m really enjoying playing Dragon Age at present; I have a sweetly-determined looking (and behaving) Dalish rogue who is on good terms with everyone and constantly saving the day. I’m just waiting for the other Elven fellow to add to my party so I can romance him. Adam’s running with a maudlin looking city-elf warrior and we play alongside each other to get as close to the multiplayer feeling as possible. Alas, we’ll have to return to Baldur’s Gate and Icewind Dale for our dose of Forgotten Realms adventuring together! That’s actually what we did the very first night we met, having BG2 as a mutual favourite game. As is Morrowind and Vampire: The Masquerade! If we had any more in common, it would almost get boring!
It has been an uncommonly busy week for me, which means that by normal-people standards I’ve had a light load. For someone with a musculoskeletal pain and fatigue disorder however, it means I’m a bit worn out. Saturday saw the women’s convention pass, and naturally those things are never as bad as I fear. I went away feeling quite thoughtful and my grandmother was very happy to have been taken and have company. I was invited to see Mascagni’s Cavaleria Rusticana and Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci by the Melbourne Opera Company (in which a good friend’s parents both sing) and really wanted to get there (that Intermezzo is so sweet!)… couldn’t muster up the energy to drive though! It’s still showing but there are a number of upcoming expenses I should really dedicate my finances to. Honouring ones responsibilities means making sacrifices.
On Sunday there was another rather long recital, a Springtime afternoon to see the high standard of progress being made by all students and also for those taking exams to get extra performing experience. I played the same as the previous week but went in a lot more confidently. The room and audience and my being more sensitively aware of things made a huge difference and my teacher was quite complimentary the next day in my last lesson for the term. My progress has been rather sluggish this year but things are picking up with the better weather and I am focusing on being consistent.
Tuesday and Wednesday saw my participation in a rehearsal and show at a local theatre. I say that in a very broad sense, because in fact it was laid-back display of the ‘wearable art’ of various students at Box Hill TAFE. An elder sister is taking a floristry course and her group collaborated on an ensemble which I was asked very nicely to ‘model’ for them. Though unlike anything I have ever worn yet, the wire/scissors/parafilm/fairylights combination made quite an impression for being rather distinctly different. And of course sparkly. Instead of wearing a floral arrangement, I was basically decked out in pieces made of tools you would use in floristry. The whole event was filmed and I shall have pictures soon. It was quite enjoyable and I’m glad to have been of some use; most of the others looked very interesting but didn’t seem very confident about having to show off on stage.
This evening I was invited to the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra’s ‘A Miracle Year’ programme, conducted by Mark Wigglesworth, which celebrated the music of 1910. Sibelius’ 4th symphony was, as expected, not particularly evocative or predictable, but dark and in rebellion to the other music of that time. Our minds were not particularly engaged, constantly wandering throughout those 40 or so minutes. Ravel’s Mother Goose Suite followed, delicate and very very lovely at times. Finally we had our senses awoken by Strauss’ Der Rosenkavalier Suite (a concert version of the comic opera of the same name). It was typically Strauss; the orchestra were more impassioned, luxuriously romantic, and soaring to excitable moments over and over. There was no ceasing to the applause, even with a rather elderly demographic, so they gave us an encore of a march by Sousa.
I’ll be back to my usual introspection and miscellaneous thoughts in a few days. I’m resting in preparation for a chartered cruise on the Enterprize, in honour of International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Hmm.
I am off now to keep reading Roverandom to Adam. We’ve been making bedtime stories out of everything Tolkien this year. He’s listened to me narrate the entirety of The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and The Silmarillion and now seems to really understands my reverence (and almost adherence) to the mythology. He got passionately angry at Fëanor and most of his sons (we reserve a special place for poor Maedhros), thoroughly depressed at the end of the Nírnaeth Arnoediad, and we both finished ‘Of Beren and Lúthien’ in tears. I would never attempt to describe my near-enslavement to the world of Arda. Certainly Tolkien himself wouldn’t have approved. He did not particularly like the idea of folk getting carried away meeting up to ‘speak Elvish’ and such. At this point I look away with a benign smile and feign complete innocence in the matter.
Sister Blog
Juliette at Classical Doll