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Beethoven, Beer, Elgar and the AFL

July 14th 2008 02:16
Why do advertising agencies persist in degrading master pieces of music? Obviously copyright considerations disappear from the equation because many of these composers have been dead for so long, and there’s no one around to object or protect their music. Beethoven’s 9th Symphony used to advertise Victoria Bitter though? It makes me want to weep – such a lack of respect, and worse, such ignorance! I wonder if these VB people know anything about the Schiller text of the final movement of that symphony. It’s all about the universal brotherhood of Man, and funnily enough, its noble intent just might be relevant in the 21st century. It’s pretty sad that there are people out there whose only associations with that music will be through that ad. Better to have that type of exposure than none at all? If people are that clueless, they don’t deserve to hear any Beethoven at all.


My other “favourite” is the use of Elgar’s Enigma Variations to advertise the 150th birthday of the AFL. Firstly, what is wrong with finding an Australian piece of music? To me it’s the supreme irony that the advertisement for the birthday of our “great Australian game” (with its gaelic roots) is accompanied by music from the writer of “Land of Hope and Glory”. Where are all those republicans and why aren’t they screaming about this? Actually, isn’t Bill Hunter, the narrator, one of them? I’m not sure what’s worse here – the selling out of the narrator, or the music of the “old Blighty” being used for such a huge Australian occasion.
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What Does Music Give Us? II

July 14th 2008 01:40
One of my first posts was about what I think music has to offer people, but on Friday night and I attended a reunion of people from primary school, and someone at the function made a few very interesting comments about singing in the school choir and it got me thinking again….

Singing in a choir gives people the opportunity to participate in a community activity and foster a sense of belonging, for one thing. It also gives Joe Average the chance to shine in unexpected ways. There was a particular boy in our class who came from a disadvantaged background. He would fall asleep in classes because he had to get up each morning at 5.30am to complete a paper round, and often come to school without having eaten anything. He also happened to sing like an angel, and one can only imagine his sense of self-esteem when ALL of his peers heaped praise on his musical ability, and that’s exactly what happened.


Nothing beats the experience of communally filling a hall with the sound of “one” human voice, and being conscious of participating in something so beautiful is a rare and moving experience. I will never forget rehearsing the Mozart Requiem once – unaccompanied, we were given our notes by the choirmaster and we just began singing. It was almost incomprehensible to me that I was helping to make this rich sound. Every so often I think about it and smile because nothing beats feeding the soul this way! And it can also be viewed as a powerful tool to help make people feel good about themselves.
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Is anyone else excited by the influx to Melbourne of several internationally acclaimed pianists for recitals over the next week? I almost fell off my chair at the prospect of having the choice of hearing the likes of Emmanuel Ax, Pascal Rogé and Roy Howat, all within one week, playing at the National Academy of Music. So I have bought tickets to Pascal Rogé who is playing an all-French programme, (Satie, Debussy and Ravel) and Emmanuel Ax, who will be playing largely Romantic piano repertoire – such intimate musical experiences are rare, and not to be taken for granted, especially in Australia. (which is a topic in its own right.) Not only does the audience get to live the music in close proximity to the artist, but it’s the artist who selects the programmes. This is an absolute treat as the audience hears the soloist’s every breath and practically every thought, at least musically anyway. Here is an opportunity to question the motives for making such selections – what is a Frenchman doing playing an all-French programme? Is it purely French arrogance? I would say definitely not because the music stands on its own for beauty and imagination, among other things. What also makes it special for me is the way it illuminates the piano as a jewel of an instrument. Played on a concert grand piano, the sound colours and effects within this repertoire will be nothing less than stunning. This music, although largely Romantic and almost post-Romantic, (like Debussy I refuse to call his and Ravel’s music Impressionist) has a refinement and cerebral quality that other Romantic music overcompensates for with excessive “passion” and “drama” – here the music is about the instrument, not the soloist or the composer, and for me, that’s how it should be. It will be very interesting to hear M. Rogé's interpretation of the music of his own country, and by extension, his culture. Stay tuned for a review next week.
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So another Easter has come and gone, and I must describe a not-so-memorable day in the kitchen on Sunday. I decided that I would make a contribution to the Easter Sunday lunch menu. I am a great fan of Stephanie Alexander, and decided to pay my respects by cooking her lemon tart recipe (from The Cook’s Companion.) This tart is straightforward enough, but I somehow managed to make it about as complicated as possible! Our main course consisted of roasted fillet steak, along with the usual roasted vegetables and some steamed greens. So whilst all of this roasting was going on in the oven, I decided I would make my shortcrust pastry – the assembly of this pastry is very very easy, then it needs to be pressed into a flan dish and blind baked. I managed to scrounge up some chickpeas and cannellini beans as my weights for this blind bake exercise, and once the pastry, foil and legumes were in place, I was confident enough to balance the flan dish (with a push-out bottom) on one hand. Big, BIG mistake. I pushed up through the flan dish, (accidentally of course!) and pastry, and what seemed to be a million beans covered the kitchen floor in the blink of an eye. Usually I have a short fuse, but rather than turn into Gordon Ramsay I managed to keep my cool – that is, until my older sibling peered over the kitchen bench and felt the whole thing was a joke. My response was to order him to clean up the mess (using some pretty colourful language) whilst I retrieved my pastry from the floor. With no great damage done, I decided the pastry was retrievable (don’t worry I’m not a commercial chef) and I made the executive decision to roll the pastry again and get this ridiculous blind-baking show on the road. (No one has since died from my cooking.)

After that was complete, I decided it was time to make the lemon filling, and that was also very easy, so I sat down with the family to eat the lovely tender meat, caramelised roasted pumpkin and the other vegetables. About half way through the meal, I got up to turn the oven on, adjusted it to the correct temperature and sat back down after placing the tart in the oven. It’s just a shame I forgot to turn the fan on, especially since the oven is fan-forced. I only learned this had happened after the 45 minute cooking time had elapsed. So although not as bad as dropping the pastry, I felt pretty silly mucking this up. Really it just meant I had to cook the tart for approximately 20 minutes longer, but I don’t like making mistakes like this one too much. I suddenly felt like a contestant on one of the cooking reality shows who’d made a timing mistake – all I had to wait for was the scolding from the master chef


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I am the owner of two reasonably up-to-date tennis racquets, (Völkl C40s for anyone interested – my yellow bumblebees) and after a little hiatus from playing competition I decided I should have at least one of them restrung in anticipation of the competition I was about to “ace”. (My brother is borrowing my spare racquet, so so far I have not been able to have that one restrung.) So, after picking up the racquet, and in about my second match, I’m playing in a mixed doubles set, and on attempting to return a wide to the forehand serve - PING – such was the poor quality of my return that the ball clipped the top part of the racquet, not the “sweet spot” at all, and two of my brand new strings popped. (I’m not a tall person, and my racquet is slightly longer than normal too, so that just adds to the tragedy of the awful standard of my tennis at the time.) I was pretty unamused by this and had to borrow the spare of one of my team mates for the rest of the night – never fun when you’re actually trying to win. We lost that set, and lost on the night by 5 games.

I lamented this sad experience to a friend of ours, who happens to be the mother of a former professional player. She asked about my spare racquet situation and I relayed the fact I didn’t have my spare with me at the time. Before I knew what was going on, she’d offered me a hand-me-down Prince (one of her son’s), one of the first graphite racquets to be available in Australia, (back in about 1980, and retailing for around $400 if I remember correctly.) and the last one she had left. My jaw dropped when this pristine frame was pulled out of the cupboard – I wanted to kiss and hug it! What I neglected to mention before is that I was lucky enough to be given another of these Prince racquets, and I played with it for about 15 years – when I bought my bumblebees, although they’re quite nice to play with, I just LOVED that Prince and was very upset that it had to go to racquet heaven, and this only because the frame had finally cracked. I’m not a fan of wider bodied racquets, which many are these days, so this thin-bodied superstar was a gift from heaven, as far as I’m concerned


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A truly quintessential image of Frenchness (for me, at least) is one of their most famous cars, the Citroën DS. When you pronounce DS (déesse) in French, in a beautiful and fitting pun, it translates into English as goddess, and this car is certainly that.


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Taekwondo – Just For Meatheads?

February 27th 2008 04:21
One of the joys for me of doing taekwondo is that it’s both a constant physical and mental challenge. Last night in class, we worked through some of the poomsae, (patterns) or formwork. A poomsae is a set of pre-determined moves where you fight an imaginary opponent, so it’s both a physical and mental exercise. Depending on the pattern you are doing, there are combinations of kicks, blocks, punches and strikes. You really need to focus to remember the moves, maintain a good level of technique and energy. So far I have learned 10 of these patterns, and there’s still room for improvement in all of them, and there are still more to learn. This would be my favourite part of what we do and I never tire of practising these patterns. So not only is it good mentally, it’s also a great workout – if I practise all of these patterns I more than break a sweat.

In response to my own question, no, taekwondo is not only for meatheads, it’s for people of all ages, sizes and fitness levels. It’s also for people who are interested in a philosophy of decency and discipline. I have only touched on a small part of what it’s about here, but I hope that’s enough to whet the appetites of others


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Recently I had the privilege of seeing one of the best and certainly most prolific songwriters of the past 50 years, Burt Bacharach, in concert. What an overwhelming and joyous experience it was. On hearing the opening bars “What the world needs now, is love sweet love….” I almost burst into tears, not because it’s one of my favourite songs, but because of its universality and relevance in today’s world. I don’t know how old the song is, but it’s certainly old enough, and it stands up, in spite of the almost cheesy lyrics. It was a journey of hit after hit after hit, and such STRONG song-writing – lovely melodies, strong harmonies and catchy rhythms. Many of the songs were sung as a medley, because had things not been done this way, it would have taken a week to hear them all. Bacharach himself did little singing, but relied on three singers, two ladies and a man, to be his voice. They did a more than competent job, although after hearing the likes of Dusty Springfield and Dionne Warwick singing these songs, it’s hard to imagine anyone else singing them. When he did sing, he could largely sell the song still, with the audience reverently listening for that familiar huskiness, willing him to continue AND joining in as if to help.

He charmed the audience with his humility and anecdotes about his Brill Building days. He felt he waited a long time for his first hit – 18 months. (Is he joking?!!!) He also spoke of rejection after rejection of his songs, of working alongside the likes of Goffin and King (and others), and his earliest hits were surprising – the theme song from the 1956 movie, “The Blob”, along with “Magic Moments” just to name a couple. He was pleasantly amused to be considered Mike Myers’ lucky charm in the Austinn Powers movies – why not include a winner in a series of winning movies


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What does music give us?

February 20th 2008 00:50
A headache? It depends on what you’re listening to. Some of it amounts to noise pollution, but really I can’t think of an example of a high enough noise pollution standard, because I don’t usually listen to that type of music long enough to find out what it is!

A shock? Sometimes – I was listening to a track by The Peaches yesterday and almost did a double-take because I thought my ears needed cleaning out – it turns out they didn’t. I won’t share the content, although Peaches fans will perhaps know the song I’m talking about


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Welcome

February 19th 2008 23:04
Hello there and welcome to this blog!

It's all about the things I love most in life. So whilst I guess I'm being self-indulgent, at least this is not entirely about me! As you can see, it's about cooking, tennis, taekwondo, music and French. Hopefully I can pick up on the different aspects of each to provide you with some fun, hopefully some serious comments and facts, and whatever you choose to gain from it. (even if that's nothing!) I've deliberately made a couple of these passions pretty general so there's no telling where the journeys will begin and end


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