Category Archives: Weather, Seasons, & Celebrations

Canada Day Concert Redux

It is my very great pleasure to share with you the video taken of the entire Canada Day concert.

Bless Martine and Daniel for shooting the HD footage, for editing it and posting it to YouTube; and even more so for burning all those concert DVDs for the orchestra members! It was a real treat to sit back and enjoy the concert the way the audience did, and as the Blu-Ray player and TV are hooked up to the surround stereo and subwoofer, I got to hear the orchestra in all its glory. (Okay, the church is very echoey, and at times our articulation isn’t as clear as it could have been and those two issues = occasional muddy sound, but hey! There’s sound to be heard!) And I appreciate it all the more because my audio recording was such a miserable mess.

Overall, I am very pleased with my performance in this video. Two things leap out at me. One, I tend to make small faces while I play, mostly tightening of the mouth during different phrases. It’s not in reaction to mistakes, it’s more like… expression. It probably can’t be seen from the audience, but seeing it on screen when the camera was on the celli was very odd. This summer I’m going to work on relaxing the muscles around my mouth when I play. And two, I’ve been working on lowering my right elbow, and damn it, every once in a while it pops up like a chicken wing. Down, elbow! Down! Something else to work on this summer.

There were a couple of places in the video when I waved my hands at the screen and said, “The celli! The CELLI! They have the theme, the violins are just playing a repeated note — pan RIGHT!” And there was the odd place where the camera would pan to the brass… just in time for them to lower their instruments. But those are understandable in a live recording, and really, I’m just thrilled to have the record of the event. Especially on DVD! Merci encore, Martine et Daniel, vos efforts et votre générosité sont vraiment appréciés!

Canada Day Concert Review

Every year around this time I say something along the lines of “best concert ever.” I feel rather like the boy who cried wolf, because I’ve said it so many times now that you’re not going to believe me when I say that no, this was the best Canada Day concert I’ve ever had the joy and honour of playing in. No, really. No hyperbole here. I can produce witnesses. A couple of hundred of them, even.

Thank you so much to everyone who came out, including (but not limited to!) HRH and the boy, my in-laws, Marc, MLG, Daphne, Lu, Tamu and Patrick, Jeff and Paze and Devon, and I’m sure I’m forgetting somebody. A couple of fellow cello students were in attendance, too, and it was fun to see them. Thanks must also go out to Ceri and Scott, who hosted a pre-concert barbeque with the intention of leaving with everyone else, but who were detained by a sulky house with plumbing issues. (Scott, you grilled our steak to perfection; thank you.)

I’ve been talking about recording a concert for aeons, and I finally brought the MiniDisc to this one. I’m heartbroken to hear that the levels were too high, and because an awful lot of last night was Loud with a capital L, there’s static and popping and muffling throughout it all. Still, I can hear how good it was under the poor sound quality. I wish I’d thought to check levels during warmup, but I completely forgot I had the thing in my bag. This is better than nothing for me, though, because it showcases the precision and interpretation. The recording is also somewhat weighted toward the celli, bass, and tympani, because, well, that’s the side I sit on (although the mic was just a foot left of centre) and all those instruments have deadly low frequency levels that together can really distort a recording. I can’t do much about it with Audacity; I’m hoping that I can transfer the files to a Mac-friendly format and work on them in GarageBand once the Mac Mini has been acquired at the end of the month.

(I’m transferring the recording to the computer now, and hello, I nailed the exposed cello solo line in the Pavane, which was the one I was worried about. Ha! A wee bit off on the first cello-led phrase in the Grieg dances, but I’m attributing that to the somewhat, er, accelerated speed at which we played them. Also? Best rendition of the Pavane out of the three times we’ve played it since I joined. I think the proper speed is key; go too slowly and it dies a dead death. It’s solemn, not funereal.)

We got to use risers for the first time, bringing us all onto the same level and lifting us above the audience. I think it made a lot of difference sound-wise. This conductor set his music stand between the second chairs of the violins and the celli; he likes being right in the middle of things. I kind of like it too; I don’t have to crane my neck so much.

This conductor is dynamic, focused, has wonderful musical expression, has already dragged us beyond the level at which we were functioning, and comes with a host of fringe benefits like established connections within the musical and cultural communities. I think the vote on Sunday is a no-brainer, but I am only one of forty people, and there’s a money issue which I think is an obstacle of principal for some. I want to keep working with him, actively want to, as opposed to being happy with my performance under one of the previous guest conductors. Even with the poor recording quality, I can compare them to the performance caught on video in the fall, and I think there’s no comparison. This performance was much more crisp and vibrant.

It was really good to feel capable during this entire concert. And I don’t think I’d have felt this comfortable if we hadn’t struggled with the Bizet and Mendelssohn for the last concert. I’ve made tremendous strides forward this past season, what with the new cello, a new teacher, and this varied selection of music chosen by three very different conductors. Just working with a teacher has made a world of difference, enabling me to shift and nuance what I’m doing in a way I couldn’t do before. I am extremely pleased with my performance last night.

Afterward, while we were waiting for the fireworks to begin, Patrick asked me what a conductor actually does other than stand up there and wave his arms at a performance, and I realised that if you’re not a musician familiar with the rehearsal process you probably have no idea that the conductor is literally the director of the whole show from beginning to end. He chooses the music, guides the interpretation, asks for more or less from various performers, tweaks phrasing and delivery, and is basically responsible for what makes it different from other versions one hears. He’s the observing ear who reflects what you’ve just played back to you and tells you how to make it better, something that’s hard to do when you’re sitting in the middle of it.

And my new 7/8 baby performed very well. I played it in the spring concert, but it’s really opening up and sounded even better this concert. After my week away I picked it up and it sounded very rich, heavy on the ringing tones and with remarkably full resonance. Impressive. I am very happy with it. It was a good lateral move, indeed. I even like the fibreglass bow that came with it. It’s wouldn’t be my choice of bow, but it’s got good balance and resistance. My favourite bow is warping, and that cracked frog has to give out sometime. This fall I’ll start the bow search.

We were even fortunate weather-wise. The day was mostly bright, although a glorious thunderstorm boomed and cracked during our hour-long warmup. There was a particularly amusing moment where we were counted in and the thunder rolled on the beat we were to start on; apparently the storm wanted to play too. The rain ended forty-five minutes before we began, though, so everything was fresh and clean and cool for the concert itself. And the fireworks were spectacular; there were some I’d never seen before. It was the boy’s first firework experience, and he loved them. “They’re loud!” he exclaimed from his father’s lap, where he was sitting all wrapped up in a blanket provided by his godparents. “And they’re all my favourite colours!” At various points during the day yesterday he randomly yelled out, “Happy birthday Canada!” and waved the tiny flag someone handed him early in the day while we were out. We almost got caught by the parade downtown; if we’d known about it we might have planned to attend. Next year, I think.

One more lesson, and then I’m off till mid-August. Marc’s piano has been tuned, so I think we’ll mess about together in the interim. I transposed “Itsudo Nando Demo” the other day using Forte, and it was very worth the time. I can read treble and transpose down as I play for a couple of measures at a time, but not three pages’ worth.

C Minus Six Hours

I’ve packed my concert blacks (long skirt this year, TYVM, since last year’s pictures showed that my mid-calf length dress was still too short), various toiletries and hair clips, and weeded non-essentials out of my music bag. I’ve got the MiniDisc ready to go (because yes, I’m going to try to record this one, the Vaughn Williams is that good). There’s a steak thawing on the counter to take to Ceri and Scott’s, where we’re heading for an hour once the boy is up from his nap. There will be beer. I need to pack the boy’s backpack still, but other than that, I suspect I’m basically done.

Looks like the weather will be kinder than expected; the POP is now only at 40%, and there’s a nice wind. The high tonight is supposed to be 17 degrees. I think I’ll risk wearing my new black leather mules, and bring an emergency pair of shoes to wear in case it rains.

Music stand. Must pack the big music stand.

Happy Canada Day, everyone. HRH has already cracked open my Canada Day gift to him, a special edition Innis & Gunn. Enjoy your day. See you on the other side.

Holiday Roundup, With Bonus Today Stuff

All right; my work for the day is done. I have read and written a two-paragraph endorsement of a book coming out this fall, and it’s just as well I didn’t bring it with me; it was mostly correspondences and such, so I needed to do it all in one go to get a feel for the overall book. (And I’ve just been informed that as a thank you, I’m getting a copy of the bound book when it comes out this fall; how nice of them!) Things got off to an early start, what with me getting up at 3:45 AM (hello, insomnia, I have not missed you, and just because I slept an average of four hours each of the past four nights does not mean it’s a pattern that ought to be perpetuated), so I didn’t have to drag myself awake for a couple of hours when the boys left. Also, I ate lunch at 10:30, so I kept being surprised that it was only noon or whatever when I checked later.

Today I got a secondhand book in the post, then a postal truck arrived and gave me my order of Vienna Teng CDs, and just now a second postal truck came by with a different driver, to give me yet another secondhand book. I suspect this is what inefficiency looks like.

Right, so, here it is, the highlight reel of our week away:

SUNDAY we drove to Toronto. The six-hour stretch between these cities is without doubt the most boring stretch of highway in the country. It is flat. It is straight. It is dull. But the drive went relatively well, except for getting off the 401 at Whitby to get to the 407 instead of Ajax. Yeah, we won’t be doing that again. See, despite the little 407 toll route! signs at the exit we took, the 407 doesn’t actually start in Whitby. Lying little signs. You have to take the tiny you-call-this-a-highway 7 to get to it, after driving north on Brock for about half an hour. Which kind of undercuts the whole idea of saving time idea. Anyway, the 407 is a beautiful highway, and traffic-free. Traffic free = stress free. Sure, we pay about $20 to drive almost its entire length, but as we do it only two or three times a year, it’s totally worth it. It saves about 45 minutes, and avoids lots of sitting in traffic, construction, and crankiness.

MONDAY we puttered around. Can’t remember doing anything spectacular, really. We went to the used kids’ clothing store in the morning and found new shorts for the boy, which he sorely needed, and a couple of new books, one of which was a Transformers reader. Wandered aimlessly at the bookstore; there’s nothing out that I want, really, or perhaps more correctly nothing I will spend $10 on when I know I’ll read it in ninety minutes. The boy splashed around in his wading pool for about two hours. And by ‘splashed’ I really mean ‘ran at it and took flying dives into it.’ Those are HRH’s genes, thank you very much.

TUESDAY was the family gathering. There were eleven of us: HRH and myself, my parents, the boy, my cousin and his wife, their three-year-old daughter, their ten-day old new baby girl, my aunt (aka my cousin’s mom and my mother’s sister) and my cousin’s mother-in-law over from Japan. I think that was everyone. Oh, we ate. We always eat when family get together. There was cheese and fruit before dinner, and grilled flank with potatoes and cold orzo-grilled veggie salad, and green beans. Dessert was two huge crystal bowls of torn up angel food cake, piled with fresh local strawberries, and further piled with freshly whipped cream. I had both kids on the floor of the kitchen helping me make these, spooning berries over the piles of cake, then trying to spoon the cream on top, but it kept sticking to the spoons so they got it all over their hands. Everyone had two servings, so it’s a good thing we made tonnes of it. It was so light, though; it felt like you were eating air.

WEDNESDAY morning Mum and I went out to Spun Fibre Arts in Burlington to check it out. They have a lovely selection. I went to see what spinning wheels they had in stock, but the owner wasn’t there to demonstrate them. They had the Schacht Ladybug and a Louet Victoria there, and while I’ve heard the Ladybug is more versatile, I was really impressed by the Victoria’s smoothness. After the boy’s nap we went to visit Granddad at the Canadian Warcraft Heritage Museum so the boy could run around among the priceless and irreplaceable airplanes. It was nice and quiet, so my father offered to let HRH crawl around inside one of the only two operational Lancasters in the world. Yeah. HRH was totally blown away. The boy got his kicks sitting in the Fleet and the CF-100, showing me how the sticks still moved the flaps. On the way out we hit the gift shop and the boy chose a really well-done metal toy of the Lanc, and HRH bought a CAF shirt for himself and one for the boy.

THURSDAY we went downtown to the ROM, to see the dinosaurs. I adore the ROM, and this was my first opportunity to see the new pavilion. The natural history exhibits have been installed in this new section, and it all suits very well. You can’t do the entire ROM in one day (well, maybe some can) and I really missed not being able to go through the textiles and the many cultural galleries. We promised the boy he could pick something out at the gift shop of this museum too, and he chose a dinosaur egg, one of those things you put in water and it dissolves/cracks while the dinosaur inside ‘grows.’ It was put in a jar of water pretty much as soon as we got home. We had planned to split up at lunchtime, the boys to have sausages from the cart on the corner, and Mum and I to Remenyi to check for an orchestral tuner. And we did, except the major deviation from the plan was the spectacular thunder and lightning storm we walked out into, totally unexpected after the bright, clear, hot day we’d started with. Mum and I got drenched going across the street, and the boys dashed to the cart and back to shelter to eat their lunches. In the end, Remenyi didn’t have an orchestral tuner, I wasn’t going to buy the very excellently designed and priced cello case I saw without testing it for fit, and we missed the GO train heading back to Oakville. Because yes, we took the GO train to town, and then the subway to the museum, which thrilled the boy to no end because it meant four train rides. We ended up sitting at Union Station for forty-five minutes waiting for the next train, but it wasn’t so bad; Mum and I shared a ham/cheese/tomato bagel sandwich, then we wandered over to the Second Cup where she got tea and I had a delicious caramel steamed milk, which I shared with the boy when it cooled enough. Mum and I entertained ourselves by rating the shoes and clothes we saw go by. People wear the oddest things. That night after the boy was in bed HRH took me out for a caramel latte at William’s Coffee Pub in Burlington, one of our favourite places for a date. (Yeah, we don’t get out much.) To my delight they do decaf lattes. Next time I may go wild and have a mocha, although I love the flavour of the caramel lattes and the balance between the milk, the coffee, and the syrup drizzled on top. I also nipped into The Shoe Company ten minutes before they closed and scored the perfect pair of black leather mules by Liz Claiborne for $60. I have been looking for these ideal shoes for about ten years. I win.

FRIDAY morning HRH and Dad went over to install a fan in a friend’s house, while Mum, the boy and I went out to look at netbooks and do some grocery shopping. We hit HMV because Mum was looking for a Great Big Sea album (which wasn’t in stock, of course, because it isn’t new but not old enough to qualify for the 2 for whatever price promotion), but I picked up the first season of the original Transformers TV show for the boy, who is thoroughly delighted with it. That afternoon his grandparents took him out to visit the local trainyard, where he happily watched engines shunting things all over. An engineer came down out of a diesel locomotive and gave him a CN ballcap, which sent to boy right over the moon. Then they went out for gelato, as did HRH and I, although we went to two different places. Forget ice cream; gelato is where it’s at. (Two dates in two days!) There was perfectly grilled salmon for dinner, brushed with maple syrup and a touch of soya sauce.

SATURDAY we came home. The boy woke me up by gently waving something wet and squishy in my face and saying tenderly, “Look, Mama, I helped it be borned!” The little dinosaur egg had finally crumbled enough and the dinosaur’s foam tail and feet were far enough out that he just couldn’t wait any more. Under HRH’s supervision the jar was opened, the water decanted, and the remaining bits of ‘eggshell’ pulled off. It took him a while going through his dinosaur books in the car on the way home, but we identified it as a chubby little dimetrodon. It was a good trip home, too. I like this travelling on non-holiday weekends thing.

While away, I read In Ashes Lie by Marie Brennan, A Matter of Justice by Charles Todd, Agent to the Stars by John Scalzi, and then I finished Nocturnes by Kazuo Ishiguro and The City & The City by China Mieville the night we got home.

There. Caught up. As usual, it’s nowhere what I wanted it to be, because I’ve already forgotten the little things that made each day special.

I’m going to go read now. I can’t decide if I want to drink a beer or a latte from a packet. To heck with it: red wine it is.

In Which She Waves From The Parental Home

So far, our visit has been lovely. I forgot the document I’m supposed to read and a laptop upon which to read it, but other than that, the trip down was excellent, we have eaten excellent food, and had excellent company. Mum and I are about to visit Spun Fibre Arts, a local yarn shop that retails not only Louet, but Ashford and Schacht spinning wheels.

Back soon. And happy belated Solstice, everyone.

Remembering

Today, the world is a little dimmer as one of its feline lights leaves us. It’s not my news to share, but the call telling me about it affected me deeply yesterday, and affects me more than it might have at any other time of the year.

Sunday marked the first year anniversary of Maggie’s death. And I don’t really know what to say other than I still miss her very much, and I am still unexpectedly reminded of her and tear up. A couple of months ago I heard a sound in the kitchen while I was working, a kind of rusty strangled meow-like sound, and in the back of my brain I identified it as one of the cats. Then my subconscious kind of poked me and said, “Well, yes, except the cat that made that particular sound you heard for seventeen years is no longer with us.” And I burst into tears, and e-mailed Ceri a garbled note that essentially said, “I still miss her so much.”

Cricket has taken to sleeping between HRH and I, something that Maggie used to do now and again, and when we watch TV next to one another she jumps up onto the chesterfield and snuggles between us. In both she reminds me of Maggie. Not that she’s doing exactly what Maggie used to do; it’s more like she’s joining us in the same activities Maggie used to accompany us in as well, sharing space and time that Maggie used to share, somehow bringing her into what it is we’re doing.

Liam still talks about her all the time. Up until a couple of months ago he was still telling random people that Maggie had died, and that Gryffindor was our new cat.

They leave us, but they don’t. There’s a Maggie-shaped hole in my heart, but her memory curls up there and is with me always.

And this isn’t anything like I wanted to write, but I can’t get the words out properly in any way that makes sense.

Grand Finale to The Week Of Birthday

The kids’ party was a success. (Or if it wasn’t, eleven kids and their companion adults did a very good job of conspiring to present a unified false front.) So successful, in fact, that we completely dropped the planned craft from the schedule and sent the kids home with their choice of wooden object to paint, along with their superhero balloon from the balloon bouquet HRH went out and picked up this morning. (He also picked up a Superman t-shirt for the boy, who had reluctantly agreed to wear his Spiderman shirt but argued earnestly that Spiderman wasn’t really a superhero. “Are you kidding?” said HRH. “Superman is super-strong, but Spiderman’s much faster than he is.” He came home with the shirt as a surprise, though, and the boy was thrilled to bits with it.)

So many compliments on the Superman logo cake. I tell you, it’s great to be married to an artist. I bake it, whip up the icing, then let HRH go to town with bowls of tinted icing, a pastry bag, and a paintbrush.

No one went overboard on gifts (lots of craft supples, books, and puzzles — thank you deeply, everyone, from the bottoms of our hearts), and Nightdemons sent their gift home with us yesterday as they were fairly sure they wouldn’t be here. Liam opened the bubble machine just as his first guests arrived, and it was an excellent ice-breaker once more kids who didn’t know one another gathered in the backyard.

Platters of fresh fruit, juice, mini hot dogs, pizza, cookies in the shape of fours, foccaccia and coffee/tea for the adults. Really, I will miss these easy parties once he gets older and more sophisticated. Today it was sheer joy for him and his friends to run around the backyard, play on the swings and slide and trikes and such, and eat kid-perfect finger food. Excellent weather for it, too. And as an added bonus, all the adults got to see one another for the first time in however long.

We all crashed for naps around 1:30. As it’s now five, there’s no way I’m making it to Ariadne for Spin In Public Day.

HRH and the boy are currently out back dancing like crazed things on the tiny patio area between the sandbox and the back gate. It’s soaking wet for some reason (the hose was out) and the boy is flinging himself around with a huge smile on his face, pulling off some pretty fancy footwork. I’d say he’s very happy indeed.