Category Archives: Art, Theatre, & Film

First Rehearsal, New Conductor

8,900 visitors! Goodness. We’re about a week away from a year of the Owlyblog. That’s a lot of people. (Can’t fool me, I know that it’s a couple of you at work, checking several times throughout the day in desperation, seeking something, anything to fill the void…)

Last night was our first rehearsal with our new conductor, Douglas Knight. Our principal cellist was away on a business trip, so last night of all nights Walter made me fulfill my promise to him and join him at the first stand. For those of you who don’t know, the principal chair of a section sits (a) closest to the conductor, and (b) closest to the audience. Theoretically it’s because they’re so talented and experienced, and they lead the rest of the section.

So there I was last night, sitting right next to the new conductor. “This will be much better,” Walter told him. “She’s good.”

Now, as much as that boosted the ego and probably had a positive effect on how I played, it didn’t change the fact that I hadn’t been at rehearsal in two weeks, and had played only once at home (shame, shame!). And what I played in my living room had nothing to do with what we’re preparing at orchestra, and everything to do with Bach solo cello suites.

I didn’t embarrass myself, which is good. I proved to myself that I can play musically even with wrong notes. I also proved to myself that two weeks of not looking at Mendelssohn is suicide, especially in that dratted second movement with those wretched sixteenth notes and the celli solo in tenor clef. Grr.

All in all, it was a good night. We’re all feeling each other out, finding new footing, new ways to communicate, learning each other’s style. He really put us through our paces, working most of the Mendelssohn: the minuet and trio movement (which was quite beautiful once we found our rhythm as a unit), the final Allegro Con Fuoco movement (also known as the Movement That Never Ends), then back to the evil second movement. And then, joy of joys, the nice, dramatic, Don Giovanni overture. My fingers were swollen and throbbing when I got home, but that’s what you get when you don’t practice for two weeks, right?

Can’t practice today, though; I’m off to the store, then home this afernoon to work on the newsletter, then back to teach at the store tonight. (Yes, astonishing, I know; the first workshop this year that has enough students to merit not cancelling it!) So, tomorrow I will attack the looming threat of the Stretto section of the final Mendelssohn movement (actually, the entire last page), and rework the second movement yet again.

It’s a good thing that I want to practice, I think. It’s nice to feel positive about my cellistic abilities once again.

Imbolc Interview

We must be coming up to a major Neo-Pagan festival – I’m on the radio again.

Yep. Going in to the CBC tomorrow to tape an interview about Imbolc, or Candlemas, or Chandeleur, or Brighnassadh, or Feast of Saint Brighid, or whatever you want to call it.

Now, it’s been a year since I’ve done an interview about my spiritual practices. You can actually dig back through the archives and read my rant about the disrespect shown to me by the last jerk who interviewed me. I did plenty of pre-interview work with the producer this time, and at one point I must have hesitated a bit too long, because she asked about my comfort level using certain words. I admitted to her that my last interview experience regarding the general topic had taught me a severe lesson and made me a bit interview-shy, and she’s assured me that nothing of the sort will happen this time. She was quite horrified at the level of immaturity displayed by the man who put me through that mockery of an interview last February and offered her sympathy, although she didn’t sound surprised. Sensational journalism attracts listeners, after all, the same way sensational journalism sells newspapers. In general, though, I have a very good feeling about this interview tomorrow morning. Mind you, forty-five minutes of the producer doing pre-interview research did a lot to put my mind at ease, and I’ve never had a bad interview with the CBC, in all the years I’ve interviewed with them. I’m always treated courteously and with respect. Mind you, I thought the same about CJAD up until last year too.

No, this will be fine. Besides, this time I know to terminate the interview if it goes in a bad direction. We’re taping, after all.

Barring major disasters, it looks like it will air Sunday morning on CBC Radio 1, which in Montreal is 88.5 FM.

The Hours

I saw The Hours yesterday. As I expected, when I walked into my apartment afterwards, my husband looked up at me and said, “Good movie?”

Now, that’s such a misleading question. Usually it means, “Did you enjoy the film?”, but the phrasing also implies, “Was it a well-made film?”, or, “Is it a bad movie?”

So I kind of shrugged and said, “It was thought-provoking.”

“But did you have fun?” he persisted.

What kind of a question is that? The movie is about death, questioning the right to define acceptable quality of life, and who has the right to limit any individual’s choice to end his/her life at any time. No, the film was not “fun”. I didn’t exactly “enjoy” it. But it was excellently directed, edited, and acted, and I could appreciate that, and appreciate the feelings it evoked from me, and the ensuing self-examination that began as the credits rolled.

I gave up. It was a quarter to midnight, and my husband was almost asleep, anyway.

“Yeah. It was a good movie,” I said.

Reading And Watching Movies

I took this weekend off: no weblogs, no e-mail. It was remarkably refreshing after a week of driving, goal-oriented work at the computer, writing articles and revising text and sending things off all over the place. I used my laptop instead of my desktop this weekend, and only sent one message out (a submission, naturally). I didn’t even sit down and read a book to relax, but you know, I don’t feel as if I spent my weekend racing about and not taking it easy.

I lie. I did read a book. Two, in fact. Both NaNo novels of other local authors. It’s not quite the same kind of relaxing reading that I meant, though; I read these two books with awareness and a critical eye. Drat the writer in me!

Saturday evening I went out with one of my oldest friends for dinner and a movie. We saw Chicago, which was just as good the second time around. I haven’t seen the original All That Jazz, but this version was spectacular. Richard Gere is one of my least favourite actors in Hollywood, but in this film he manages to not only entertain me, but surprise me. Anything that has current stars singing their own songs and dancing their own numbers has my admiration (assuming they’re more than passable at it). We now have a standing date to see any musical that’s released on the big screen; having worked on musicals on and off together for six years or so means we appreciate them in a very particular fashion together.

It was a terrific evening. I forget sometimes why certain friendships persist even if we don’t spend a lot of time with one another, and a night out like this one renews my faith in something. I just can’t put words to it.

(Speaking of stars singing makes me think of Once More With Feeling, a.k.a. the Buffy musical, which reminds me that Alyson Hannigan and Alexis Denisoff are getting married. If you have to ask who they are, then you won’t care. Really.)

The Two Towers, Redux

The Two Towers was definitely better the second time around. I really, really think it had a lot to do with the bimbo who sat in front of us in Toronto and waved her arms whenever Legolas did something cool, cooed whenever he had a close-up, and squealed through every fight scene. Knowing that the film is made up of three-quarters battle sequences, you can imagine how irritating this became.

Yes, this viewing was definitely better. I even noticed this time when Saruman said the title of the movie, earning a golf clap. The pacing seemed a little more even, although I still think Merry and Pippin got short shrift in this film, not even getting to enter Isengard let alone welcome the rest of the fellowship as the doorkeepers when they arrive.

As the credits rolled, my husband said hopefully, “Do you think they’ll do a trailer at the end, for Return of the King?” “Not a chance, yet,” I said. “We’ll just have to come back and see it again in May or June, like we did last year for Fellowship.” Which is hardly a sacrifice, is it.

We watched the cast commentary of the Fellowship special edition DVD the other day, and wow; they really did just put all four hobbits in a room and let them talk, didn’t they? With comments from half a dozen other actors here and there, it made for great fun.