JourneyMuse

Time to move along

2009-03-18T17:59:00.002+11:00

So it's been a while. A LONG while.

For a while there I thought I was over it, but maybe I'm not... and I think I'm ready to jump back on this bandwagon - but in a new, more spontaneous, free manner. To that end, I am leaving on A NEW ADVENTURE of life, which will be lots of fun for all concerned. Join me!

www.starsoid.blogspot.com

Diaries on the net

2008-08-25T08:08:00.003+10:00

The diaries of Samuel Pepys and George Orwell are being posted day-for-day. You can also read more historic diaries at the Wisconsin Historical Society.

At night home, much contented with this day’s work, and being at home alone looking over my papers, comes a neighbour of ours hard by to speak with me about business of the office, one Mr. Fuller, a great merchant, but not my acquaintance, but he come drunk, and would have had me gone and drunk with him at home, or have let him send for wine hither, but I would do neither, nor offered him any, but after some sorry discourse parted, and I up to [my] chamber and to bed.
Samuel Pepys

I can't beleive this guy has a PhD!

2008-08-24T10:51:00.002+10:00

As part of one of my (too many) jobs, I was reading through some articles about marketing. One of them was written by one Jonathan U. Elimimian (MBA, PhD; DBA., College of Business, Albany State University, USA). I don't know which is worse - that he has a PhD or that this was published in an edited journal...

“Sigmund Freud made a great contribution to Psychoanalysis with his concept of the super ego which was referenced as primitive and unconscious aggregate of values and psychoanalysis in form by contemporary authors.”
. . .
“Therefore, psychoanalysis also questions traditional ideas of irrationality. It shows that human tastes, preferences and other apparently irrational psychological consumers marketing decisions have a meaning and it is rational. Even though, most theorists argue that there is continuity between rationality and irrationality. This remained controversial among scholars.”
. . .
“Of course, this is another issue of major research topic in marketing. Even the most apparently abnormal and irrational buying behaviors are meaningful, because they occur for a reason, and in that sense, they are rational.”
. . .
“Even though Damasio’s application is strictly scientific, but the conceptual adoption to consumer behaviour (attitudes, values, and actions) is practical.”
. . .
“Before now, the influence of emotions on consumers decision-making (buying decision) is largely ignored.”
. . .
“Since the term ‘emotion’ tends to mean different things to the man and woman on the street (layman), the psychologist, the physiologist and the marketer, have used the term ‘Somatic’ to refer to the collection of mentally related responses that hallmark an emotion (Consumer behaviour). Even though ‘Somatic’ refers to the Greek word ‘Soma’, i.e. body.”
. . .
“Sigmund Freud’s treatment of people’s desires, wishes and human feelings is extensively discussed in literature (Freud, 1954). These too, must be understood as rational in terms of buying behavior. No matter of the racial identity, all consumers suffer from degree of anxiety provoked by the buying decisions and massive product assortments.”

Perth episode two: WE WON!

2008-07-27T18:43:00.004+10:00

I've only got a short amount of time on the computer at Perth airport (our flight back to Melbourne has been delayed - boring!) so this is a short post about the overwhelming events of last night.

We came to Perth to perform in the Putting on an Act festival at PICA, seeing it as a good opportunity to showcase our work. After our performance on Friday night, we were told that we had been selected for the "best-of" program on Saturday night. It was amazing for us to have so many people enjoy and believe in our work, and we were stoked to have the opportunity to perform again. The only problem was, we had no harpsichord! I had organised the hire of a harpsichord from WAAPA, but received a phone call from them a few days ago telling me that there had been a double-booking, and the opera company was promised the instrument for Saturday night. I wasn't worried about that originally, as I didn't think that we'd be performing on the final night...

So there were many, many phone calls made yesterday to assorted members of the small early music fraternity in Perth, to no avail. At our 2:30pm sound-check we developed what we called the "plugged" version of the piece, with an electronic keyboard wired into the sound system and lots of reverb - very different from our restrained baroque-minimalism of the night before.

We were a bit anxious before the performance, having to deal with a different sound and completely different touch on my part. I normally listen a lot to the acoustics of my instrument as I play, and respond to the sound-waves coming from the strings. Not having any sound at all near me, and having to rely on what came from the overhead speakers had me a bit nervous.

Once I walked out on to the stage, though, and played the first few notes, I knew that it was going to be fine. The theatre was full, and the audience warm and enthusiastic. As soon as the last note died away we were greeted by a wall of clapping and cheering. I was overwhelmed by the response, and really moved that people loved our work so much.

Afterwards, it took us about 20 minutes to get to the bar to get a drink, we were continually stopped and congratulated by people who loved the combination of harpsichord and voice. Finally, red wine in hand, I relaxed for a moment, only to have us announced as the winners of the inaugural City of Perth Award for Most Innovative Act! The rest of the night was a bit of a blur of thank-yous, congratulations and posing for photographs...

Perth episode one: Icey Ice Snow Ice

2008-07-24T22:52:00.004+10:00

Fernando and I (aka Beautiful Rubble) flew to Perth today to perform tomorrow at PICA. So far we haven't seen much of the city - we arrived at dusk and spent over an hour in a shuttle bus being shuttled around what seemed like every hotel in the city before finally arriving at our backpackers in Northbridge. After dumping our bags, we ran down the street in search of food. And it was during this hunger-filled dash that I made the discovery: The Icey Ice Snow Ice shop. I'm not exactly sure what snow ice is (well, I obviously know what snow ice is, but not what it means in this context). The description on the business card-sized take-away menu didn't enlighten me: " Snow Ice ... ice tastes like snow and melts in your mouth!" It may be a kind of frozen fairy floss. I decided not to experiment tonight, and settled for a grean teacino (itself a wondrous invention). Tomorrow will be the day to sample the snow ice. I'm particularly taken by the idea of Peanut Ice with chocolate sauce, although the Green Tea Ice (standard topping: wickedly taste good by itself) would be hard to pass up.

More Open House photos...

2008-07-21T10:06:00.003+10:00

...another view of the tower.

The view from the Chairman's Office

Inside the boardroom. The table is covered in a single piece of glass, which had to be craned in through the windows.

I got a little excited about this building, as you can see!

Open House Melbourne

2008-07-21T08:58:00.003+10:00

Yesterday I stood in a queue for 2 hours to get a look inside the top floors of the iconic Manchester Unity Building as part of Melbourne Open House. This is the first year they've run this in Melbourne and I think they were quite surprised by the number of people who turned up - hence the l o n g wait.

Luckily we had cupcakes to occupy us while we waited...

The view from the rooftop terrace was spectacular and just about worth the wait - the windows were mirrored and had interesting reflections.

The tower - it used to be a penthouse, how great would it be to live here?!

More reflections...

Friday round-up #6

2008-07-18T23:40:00.002+10:00

This week I've loved The Coveted's simple yet not-so-obvious transformation of holey socks into stirrup legwarmer-type thingies; On an Overgrown Path writing about music in Moorish Spain and classical music and the credit crunch; some crazy two-wheeled action over at The Scooter Scoop; and Gala's tips on how to be more assertive. Enjoy your weekend!

Hypercolor is back!

2008-07-17T22:18:00.004+10:00

This should not be happening. But apparently it wasn't bad enough the first time around. It's official, hypercolor is back. Another bad 80s trend rises from the grave to look just as terrible as it did in 1988 (year of the bicentenary, fellow antipodeans may remember - what a treat that was!). Yes, I know we live in a postmodern world where everything is recycled and nothing is really new, but there are some things that really should just be left to rot away peacefully.

Beautiful Rubble

2008-07-14T22:34:00.004+10:00

Introducing... Beautiful Rubble! Drum roll please!

This is a duo I am one half of - together with the lovely Fernando. We've got a rudimentary myspace site here.

We've been invited to perform at Putting on an Act, at the Perth Institute of Contemporary Art, which is very exciting, and the first time we've presented our work as a stand-alone. We started working together a couple of years ago, and found that we fit together musically very well, and that it was easy for the two of us to come up with ideas and beginnings for songs.

I realised today that I am improvising all the time now, something that I could not do two years ago. All our songs have a basic structure, but the detail is improvised - there is a bass line or chord progression that is set, but everything else I am making up on the spot. I am very conscious of how far I still have to go in this area, but am proud of what I can do now, compared with a couple of years ago.

I was not prepared for that

2008-07-09T22:04:00.003+10:00

The wisdom teeth. How can four little teeth cause so much swelling and pain? Well, the removal of them, that is. I was barely able to talk before Monday, let alone think or conceptualise in any way. I blame that on the painkillers and aftereffects of the anaesthetic. My mouth would barely open for the first five days or so, and my cheeks were swollen so that I was looking distinctly peculiar. I have eaten what feels like half my body weight in jelly (but it was so good...), and watched four-and-a-half seasons of Sex and the City on dvd. I'm just glad I never have to go through that again!

No Wisdom Left?

2008-07-02T18:55:00.002+10:00

I had my wisdom teeth taken out yesterday, and now I look a little like this. On a steady diet of soup, porridge, jelly and ice-cream, I've been working my way through Vikram Seth's From Heaven Lake and dreaming of traveling to Tibet.

In between slugging back Mersyndol Forte (gotta love that codeine) I've been drooling over fabulous pictures by Sanna, Dotti, The Sartorialist and Ranna, and secretly getting jealous of it being summer in Europe, where I am not.

Friday round-up #5

2008-06-28T09:51:00.002+10:00

Kerri Smith has inspired me this week, when not much else did. Quoting Wendell Berry, and showing us photos of a guerilla art project at a French high school.

Thesis Time #2

2008-06-27T15:17:00.003+10:00

I am sitting in Carson's Lounge, a relatively new cafe in Yarraville, and conveniently 5-minutes walk from my house. I've just re-read the first chapter of Rose Rosengard Subotnik's book Developing Variations, discussing different ways musicologists approach ideology. I read it for the first time yesterday afternoon, under the neon lights of the VCA library, and found my eyes glossing over and my brain complaining of the effort required to understand and take it in.

Part of what I am going to discuss in my thesis is the debate that took place among academics of early music in the 1980s and 1990s about the ideal of "authenticity" - the attempt to perform renaissance and baroque music in a "historically correct" fashion, honouring the supposed intentions of the composer.

It struck me today as I read Subotnik, how similar her description of the "Anglo-American" school of musicological thought (she defines two schools of thought: Continental and Anglo-American) is to the early music movement, especially its manifestation in the 1980s and 1990s. The Anglo-Americans, in Subotnik's definition, are empiricists who view a piece of music as an autonomous artwork. They are concerned with the pursuit of provable truth and try to correct what they perceive as "ideological distortion" by focussing on physical and scientific details, and consciously avoiding anything that could be perceived as ideological or subjective.

The early music movement also held empirical evidence in the highest of esteem (and still does to a large extent). Proof gathered in historical sources of the "correct" way to perform has been the basis of the way we have played early music. Instruments have been painstakingly copied from original drawings, and the search for Bach's own tuning system provided some academic excitement a few years ago.

More and more I am discovering the connections between the manifestation of this empiricism in the early music movement and the wider intellectual and cultural context. At the moment I don't have any startling conclusions to make, but clearly the phenomenon that is the early music movement did not happen in isolation or come from nowhere.

It's Thesis Time!

2008-06-24T22:12:00.004+10:00

Humming the tune of Flight of the Conchords Business Time I settled down with my laptop and some not-so-light-reading this morning. Yes, this year I have to finish my masters thesis! I have been making it more stressful for myself than I really need to for the past few months, so I am trying a new tactic - spending time sitting with it and meandering through some reading, thinking some thoughts, writing those thoughts down... but not trying to make it perfect the first time.

So this morning it was a cup of coffee, writing down my thoughts about The Dowland Project's album Care-Charming Sleep, and reading over Richard Taruskin's The Limits of Authenticity.

Sunday afternoon quote

2008-06-22T15:01:00.002+10:00

"... Robert Hughes talking about artists: they're among the most resilient creatures on earth. If you had a nuclear war, out of the wreckage would stagger the artists, planning an exhibition."

Architect Jeremy Edmiston, in an article in the weekend paper.

Friday round-up #4

2008-06-21T12:12:00.004+10:00

This week I've especially enjoyed...

Looking at photos of bubble-blowers in NYC, re-creations of iconic photos using lego, and a tattoo that pays homage to John Cage.

Being inspired by Anjali to look further into buying a scooter. I've booked in for my motorcycle learner's permit - very exciting!

Reminding myself that I am actually very fortunate and wealthy when compared with the entire world's population, thanks to the wonderful Global Rich List.

Reading J.D.'s brilliant critique of the scam that is The Secret, and Chris's observations about creativity and artistry.

That's all for now. Have a great weekend!

A bogan musical comedy?!

2008-06-17T13:31:00.005+10:00

Coming soon to SBS... Bogan Pride. According to The Age, each episode of this Melbourne-based comedy series will end with a musical number, which I have to say, has a lot of comic potential!

With a lead character named Jenny Cragg, and set in the fictional suburb of Boonelg, I'm going to have to keep an eye out for this show when it screens in October. It could be absolute gold, or completely terrible...

For those interstate and foreign types who are confused by the word 'bogan', check out this and this. The bogan is a much-maligned stereotype of Melbourne suburbia, but secretly I think we all have a little bit of bogan in us. Come on, bogan bingo sounds like so much fun!!

Image courtesy of The Age

Friday round-up #3

2008-06-13T11:41:00.003+10:00

... and it's actually Friday! Wonders will never cease.

The lovely Brent has written an ode to procrastination, which I can certainly identify with!

My friend and collaborator Amanda has posted a couple of songs we're working on together at our fledgling myspace page.

Gretchen at the Happiness Project has thought up 8 ways to make you happier in the next hour.

Leonie dreamt about having a hole in the heart.

Sean pondered about life in a patch of mustard and wild turnips.

And JD reminds us that it doesn't always pay to keep up with information.

Sisters and Art

2008-06-10T22:45:00.004+10:00

My two sisters were in Melbourne over the long weekend, visiting from Launceston and Sydney. I spent Monday afternoon with them (G and I) and my mum, and V (I’s boyfriend). My mum loves a country drive so we all piled in her little green Citroen and drove out to Healesville to visit the TarraWarra Museum of Art. I always find it fascinating how three usually perfectly mature women in their twenties can revert to their childhood roles within seconds of being in each other’s company. I, being the eldest, am apparently bossy and decisive; G, the middle sister, is diplomatic and indecisive; while I, the youngest, is brazen and opinionated. I felt like I was 8 years old again, sitting in the back seat of a car with my two sisters, laughing at our parents and remembering the games we used to play together. (Just realised that reads slightly strangely – “I” referring both to me and my sister. I’m sure you’re smart enough to work it out.)

The art gallery at TarraWarra is really impressive. The building is made of sandstone-coloured concrete blocks and sits in the landscape like a castle – a monolith of simple lines and timeless proportions. There are no obvious entrances visible from the outside; the entrance is between two overlapping walls that create a corridor leading to the central courtyard between the café and the gallery. Walking through this corridor of concrete my footsteps were amplified by the hard surfaces so that my entrance seemed quite an occasion.

Greeted by three Brett Whiteley paintings inside the foyer of the gallery, I knew I was going to enjoy the experience. Since I first studied his work at high school I have loved Whiteley’s sinuous curves, simple lines and expressive compositions. The blue that he used in his Sydney harbour paintings has to be one of the most incredible colours in existence – standing in front of these paintings I want to dive into that blue.

In the main rooms of the gallery are paintings by Arthur Boyd, John Perceval (one of his Williamstown series), Rick Amor, Howard Arkley, Jeffrey Smart and others which I can’t remember just now.

The featured exhibition, an installation by Kate Rohde, was disappointing. Billed as “blending the lavishness of the Baroque and Rococo period with her interests in Natural History” with “curlicue designed hedges, elaborate dioramic vitrines and haunting paper mâché sculptures” to me it came across as kitsch, underdeveloped and not particularly engaging. I was expecting something more impressive, more finely crafted. The “curlicue designed hedges” were tall paper mache walls painted green, with flecks of white where the paint had come off, and the sculptures seemed unfinished. Maybe it’s just not my cup of tea.

I did really like John Neeson’s installation “Available Light”. He has set up mirrors which reflect the light and the views out the window, and then paints what he sees in the mirror – a kind of visual record of the changing light and sky over time. I like the idea of the process of making art being something that can be exhibited and enjoyed as art as much as the finished product.

Smith St, Saturday 4:30pm

2008-06-08T10:54:00.003+10:00

Friday round-up #2

2008-06-07T20:43:00.005+10:00

Some things I've enjoyed around the net this week... and yes, I know it's actually Saturday, but I'm less late than I was last week :P

My dear friend Sam has started blogging - go Sam!! Sam and I bonded when we performed together in a freezing cold church in Daylesford back in 2005, and have been friends ever since. He moved to London last year and sends me enticing emails with details of all the fabulous concerts he's attending - trying to convince me to move, too. Maybe next year...

Thanks to galadarling I have discovered Songza - this will prove to be very handy for me I think. Now I can share my music finds with the world! Current faves include L'Arpeggiata and Anouar Brahem.

There are some great photographs around - check out the Sartorialist's shoemaker and Stil in Berlin's fantastic tiled walls as backgrounds for Henri and Antje.

Late as usual - last week's links

2008-06-04T09:02:00.003+10:00

So I wanted to start a regular "Friday round-up" post - but somehow didn't quite manage it last week. Lots of things I want to do, so little time!

Here's a couple of links I enjoyed last week... stay tuned to see if I can get it out on time this week...

Dutch bicycle action - I am loving Brent's photos.

Four Foolproof Ways to Create Unimaginable Wealth In This World - I came across Robert Bruce's poetry this week and it is definitely worth a read!

Music in Exile

2008-05-25T22:05:00.004+10:00

Since I first heard it a year or so ago I have been fascinated by the music of Esteban Salas. Born in Cuba in 1725, he lived in Havana as a musician until 1762 when the English invaded. He was then transferred to a position as choir-master in the little cathedral in Santiago de Cuba, where he remained until his death in 1803.

From the CD liner notes:

"The image of Salas is one of angelic purity. The little troubles and tribulations which he experienced in his life enable us to envisage a simple, trusting soul, who since his youth had observed strict chastity, living like an ecclesiastic, in no way undeserving the tonsure. A true mystic, he had taken the vow of living in poverty, and he always dressed in black."
The compositions on this recording are carols for a small choir accompanied by a simple string orchestra. Heartfelt, simple, genuine and poignant, for me they summon up a sense of great distance and exile. The music seems less sophisticated, less polished, less worldly than European music of the time. There are no obvious "Cuban" influences, but elements of "that distant and isolated" country surrounded by sea have managed to creep in nonetheless.

There is something beautifully unpolished and genuine about the recording as well. Recorded in Cuba in the Dominican church of San Juan de Letran by a Cuban choir, there is a very particular quality about the voices - sometimes a little breathy, not quite together, but always honest and with conviction and integrity. Sometimes the sound of crickets can be heard in the background through the unglazed windows of the church.

In Praise of Boredom?

2008-05-25T09:48:00.003+10:00

"There is a strong argument that boredom, so often parodied as a glassy-eyed drooling state of nothingness, is an essential human emotion that underlies art, literature, philosophy, science - and even love.

"If you think of boredom as the prelude to creativity and loneliness as the prelude to engagement of the imagination, then they are good things," says Edward Hallowell, psychiatrist and author of the book CrazyBusy. "They are doorways to something better, as opposed to something to be abhorred and eradicated immediately.""
In Praise of Silence - theage.com.au

The Tent

2008-05-24T11:09:00.004+10:00

On Thursday night I went to see The Tent, as part of the Next Wave Festival. Stupidly I didn't have my camera with me, because the setting was absolutely incredible. Behind the Federation Square capark, between the high retaining wall of Birrarung Marr and the railway lines, there is a gravel-covered open space, a kind of no-man's land in the middle of the city. Looking down from Birrarung Marr, in this dark space between us and the glittering lights of Melbourne's skyline, we could see a canvas tent, looking a bit like a yurt on the steppes of outer Mongolia - completely at odds with it's surroundings.

Entering the tent, we were sat down and given blankets to keep our legs warm and hot beef stew to keep our stomachs warm, as we sat back and watched the show.

Quite Possibly My Favourite Record Label

2008-05-21T21:46:00.004+10:00

... currently is ECM, especially their New Series. Recently Readings had a sale on ECM albums and I indulged in

Anouar Brahem's Le Pas Du Chat Noir

Tord Gustavsen's Changing Places

and The Dowland Project's Care Charming Sleep.

Other albums that I love from this label include Rolf Lislevand's Nuove Musiche

... and of course Keith Jarrett's The Köln Concert.

Play Things

2008-05-12T22:55:00.005+10:00

Last night I went to hear my mates Fernando and Duncan (aka Play Things) play at the Rooftop Bar. I couldn't stay for long as I had to scoot to have dinner with my mum (it was mothers day after all!), but I absolutely fell in love with the venue, as well as the music. Next time I'll definitely take the lift rather than the 6 flights of stairs, but the climb was worth it.

I felt almost a sense of vertigo standing up there amongst the skyscrapers, thinking "this is my city".

Breaking

2008-05-11T10:10:00.004+10:00

I said breakdowns come
And breakdowns go
So what are you going to do about it
That's what I'd like to know
Paul Simon

It's all about Bernard

2008-01-02T23:01:00.000+11:00

I am made very happy that the ABC is screening Black Books on Wednesday nights. Love it. That's all I have to say today.

2007 - the year that was

2008-01-01T21:34:00.000+11:00

I picked up my morning pages journal the other day, and noted that the last entry was back in February. Towards the end of December 2006 I also revived the morning pages for a while - from 27 December until the middle of January. The turning of the year inspires reflection and a burning desire to make ambitious resolutions, which seem to often get lost in late January when life gets in the way.

2007 was a strange year for me - fragmented and unflowing. Many amazing things happened, and nothing was really bad, but somehow I feel slightly unsatisfied by the whole thing. I'm hoping that it was a sort of chrysalis time and that soon it will form itself into a butterfly!

Highlights of 2007 include:

Travelling to Europe for the first time and participating in the Brugge harpsichord competition
Co-creating and performing my own show in the Melbourne Fringe Festival
Co-composing and performing a 15-minute work for Musicircus in the Melbourne International Arts Festival
Moving into a fabulous house in Yarraville
Having a big realisation about my career and what I want to focus on
Writing two papers for my Masters that I was really happy with and want to try to get published
Becoming more comfortable with myself as a person, and continuing to learn how to be more self-aware and confident

I have great hopes for 2008!

What happens when you Google yourself...

2007-09-15T13:30:00.000+10:00

Apparently I am an early music performer with an established local and international reputation, according to Melbourne University! I think that might be a slight overstatement, but I'm not complaining :)

I wrote some articles for Socialist Alternative magazine back in my socialist red flag waving days.

And yes, I was homeschooled, and unbeknownst to me, my mother volunteered information about me to Time Magazine.

So there you go, now you know!

This shouldn't be this funny

2007-09-10T13:03:00.000+10:00

But somehow it is...

via Think Denk

Waiting...

2007-09-06T22:47:00.000+10:00

So much of the life of a musician is about waiting. Waiting for concerts to begin, waiting for concerts to end...

Right now I'm waiting upstairs at the Malthouse Theatre to play continuo for the VCA Secondary School orchestra. There is a violinist in one corner practicing the Bach E major concerto, and one in another corner practicing the Bach double concerto, in D minor. The effect is bizarre, but kinda nice.

I seem to have spent a large part of the past few weeks waiting. I am sick of buying coffees just to pass the time. What are fun things I can do while waiting?

Nijinsky went mad

2007-09-02T17:16:00.000+10:00

I didn't know that until today, when I watched The Diaries of Vaslav Nijinsky.

He also told his wife that she was the first woman he slept with - this was very very not true. He wrote in his diaries about chasing after coquettes on the streets of Paris, visiting prostitutes and having a 5 year affair with Diaghilev. But he also wrote that he loved his wife, sensually and spiritually. I wonder what their relationship was like? Was she really the calculating realist who drove him to madness?

He lived for another 30 years after he was committed to an asylum when he was only 30 or so. What was that part of his life like?

Instant house?

2007-08-27T14:22:00.001+10:00

If I had a block of land, I would put one of these nifty little things on it.

Photos - Brugge part 2

2007-08-24T10:51:00.000+10:00

The amazing Kamermuziekzaal in the Brugge Concertgebouw. The seats around the outside are all on a ramp that spirals around the room three times.

Just a normal street in Brugge!

Me on a boat.

A swan!

No prizes for guessing this one :)

Photos - Brugge part 1

2007-08-24T10:35:00.000+10:00

Now that I'm safely back in Oz, and the jet lag is finally passing (why is it so much harder coming East than going West?) I can post some photos of my trip! The first installment - Brugge and the Harpsichord Competition...

Sunrise somewhere over Eastern Europe

The day I arrived in Brugge - a lovely Belgian summer's day!

The sign outside...

... the Provincial Hof - where the first and second rounds of the competition were. This is probably the biggest and most fancy building in town - right on the main square.

Some of the amazing harpsichords in the instrument expo.

Update

2007-08-20T19:07:00.000+10:00

I'm standing at a free internet terminal at Singapore airport, having just arrived on a Turkish Airlines flight from Vienna via Istanbul.

I arrived in Vienna late on Wednesday night, after a 10 hour train journey through the Alps, which was amazing, but long. Before Vienna I stayed one night in Friedrichshaven, a small town in the very south of Germany, on the Bodensee (Lake Constance). I was visiting my friend Kathy, another mate from Melbourne. It was really great to hang out with Kathy and Thomas, her German boyfriend (and the reason she moved to Germany), and chat, drink beer and play pool. The evening was only marred by a rather angry young local, who for no reason at all tried to pick a fight with Thomas, who then ended up with a bloody nose, but no real harm.

My internet is about to run out here - I'm going to see if I can connect with my pda wireless... stay tuned...

Space - Europe vs. Australia

2007-08-15T20:43:00.000+10:00

Another thing I really like about what I have seen of Europe so far is the positive benefits of living in small, high density spaces. For an Australian travelling here for the first time this is perhaps one of the most striking things - used as we are to sprawling cities, more space than we know what to do with, and the mythological ideal of the quarter-acre-block. Some of my thoughts, in no particular order, are:

~ Having so much space has made Australians lazy when it comes to urban and residental design. We don't need to come up with interesting solutions to space issues, so we simply spread out.

~ There is such a thing as having too much private space, which is to the detriment of public space. Australians on the whole live more of their life in thier private space than Europeans, and I think we're missing out on something.

Köln

2007-08-14T20:39:00.000+10:00

I am sitting in the 'Bordbistro' dining car on the train from Köln to Friedrichshafen, drinking a cup of rather mediocre Geman coffee. I flew back to Amsterdam from Sevilla with Georg on Sunday evening, and yesterday caught the train to Köln, where I stayed the night with Gus, an old mate from Melbourne.

Gus and one of his housemates invited me to one of their friend's places for dinner. I borrowed a bike from another housemate and the three of us set off on a half-hour ride across the city. The preponderance of bicycles and the casuallness and freedom that they give to the life in the cities has been one of my favourite things about Europe. In Amsterdam I rode on the back of Georg's bike, sitting on the luggage rack as we sped along the Amstel. Last night I enjoyed a bike all to myself, riding through the streets and parks, the latter filled with locals barbequeing and picnicing in the evening sunshine.

Portugal...

2007-08-12T00:45:00.001+10:00

...is hot!

And sunny... and the food is very cheap and quite yummy.

I´m sitting in a little internet cafe in a small town on the south coast somewhere near Lagos. We´ve been travelling through the hilly countryside of Algarve for the past few days - countryside which is surprisingly similar to Australia, actually. It is very dry, rocky, red-brown earth, with orange and olive orchards in amongst the scrub. There aren´t really any big trees, and the few sizeable trees around are eucalypts, which all the Europeans think are very exotic, but for me is quite normal! Everything else about the place is very different from anywhere I have ever been, though...

Last night we stayed in a little town called Silves. Like most of the towns in the area, it has a moorish heritage, little winding cobbled streets, different coloured houses with shuttered windows and thick walls, old churches and lots of British tourists. After securing accomodation for the night in a little guesthouse run by a local Portugese equivalent of an Italian nonna (with whom we had to communicate via a mixture of sign language, random English and Spanish words and a lot of nodding and saying of ´si, si´) we discovered that this was the week of the Silves medival fair. I was quite entertained by the little stalls run by people in assorted styles of medieval garb, which ran the gamut from belly-dancing attire, through biblical shepherd costume, to a very convincingly made up ´leper´ outside the castle gates.

Oh yes, there was also a castle in Silves. A red castle! Unfortunately the buildings which once stood inside the castle walls were long gone, but I enjoyed walking around the ramparts and peering out at the surrounding countryside through the battlements...

Must finish up now before I run out of time, but before I go I just want to set the record straight... sorry to disappoint you, Becky, but no, the reason I haven´t been posting is because of a distinct shortage of internet facilities in this little corner of the world, not because of anything else more exciting!!

Free internet in Brussels

2007-08-02T23:09:00.000+10:00

I am sitting in the cafe Mort Subite (sudden death) in Brussels using some lovely fast free wifi.

Brussels is completely different to Bruges - for starters it is much bigger, more modern (yet still old in the centre, but a different type of old), and less obviously charming, although I think probably ultimately more satisfying. Many of the streets run in straight lines, which is much easier to navigate than Bruges' constantly curving and taking you in a completely different direction to the one gou wanted to go in streets!

I am waiting at this cafe to meet Georg, with whom l will travel to Amsterdam this afternoon. So this is my last day in Belgium, where I have eaten delicious waffles and way too much bread (bread seems to be an indispensible part of every meal), drunk cherry-flavoured kriek beer, and meandered along medieval cobbled streets.

It's Cold!

2007-07-29T20:56:00.000+10:00

Bruges is not the warmest place to be, even in summer. Today it's raining, as it has just about every day, and the forcast is for a top of 16 degrees - it feels like Melbourne in winter, except it is much prettier! I didn't really plan for it to be this cold, and didn't pack enough warm clothes, so I might have to go and investigate some shops and see if I can get a couple of warm things.

The semi-finalists were announced last night - and I was not surprised to find that I was not one of them. Out of the 60 entrants in the competition, only about 10 made it to the semis. I only heard a couple of their performances in the first round, but I think they all would have been pretty amazing. I am looking forward to hearing them perform tomorrow.

I am not at all disappointed to not be in the second round. I am quite happy for the pressure to be off, and to be able to listen to as much as I can and absorb as much as I can. In a way I feel that it is more useful for me to listen and learn while I am here, rather than practice and perform. I can practice and perform at home, but I can't listen to some of the best musicians in Europe at home!

Better... Worse...

2007-07-28T03:33:00.000+10:00

I listened to several of the other participants in the competition this afternoon, and came to the conclusion that:

1. My Bach and Buxtehude were better than many, and

2. My Scarlatti was certainly no worse than quite a few.

So now I'm not feeling so bad!

Now, off to find something for dinner...

Performance

2007-07-27T02:56:00.000+10:00

Well it's over.

I just played my first round performance for the competition. I felt pretty good before I went in, and had a good warm-up, playing slowly through the fast pieces and settling as much as I could.

I waited outside the hall while they introduced me and announced the order of my performance, then walked in to sporadic clapping, took my bow and settled down at the instrument.

2 days ago I had a rehearsal in the hall, when I chose which one of the two harpsichords I would play. There was a dark green one and a light green one - I chose the light green one because it had a nicer touch that I felt was easier and more natural for me to play.

Back to the performance: the first piece was a Buxtehude suite, which I really enjoy. I was really trying to listen to the music and I am happy with my performance. Two Bach sinfonias were next, which I am also mostly happy with - I felt that my playing was expressive and there was one little mistake in one of them which I didn't really worry about.

Then disaster struck: the final part of the program was two Scarlatti sonatas, which for some reason I have a complex about. I can play them very well when I'm alone, but in front of an audience strange things seem to happen. All of a sudden I became really nervous, and didn't trust that my fingers knew what they were doing. I felt out of control, and there were quite a few mistakes - I even left a bar out at one point! The bits in between the mistakes were pretty good, but I don't feel so great about that performance.

I'm pretty sure the Scarlatti debacle will knock me out of the running for round 2, but I'm going to keep practicing until I know for sure, rather than admit defeat now. I don't really mind about not going through to round 2, but I would like to have felt good about my round 1 performance. I feel good about 60 percent of it, but not about the rest. I guess that's how things go, sometimes, though...

Brugge - at last

2007-07-24T20:12:00.001+10:00

I am in Brugge finally! But it was a bit of a saga getting here...

I turned up at Melbourne airport on Saturday evening, joined the Thai Aiways queue, and went up to the check-in desk in due course. The man checked my passport, put a tag on my suitcase and asked for my ticket. `Oh, it´s an e-ticket, you just need my passport´ I said...

Apparently, despite telling me that I had an e-ticket, my travel agent had actually booked me a paper ticket. I thought I had an e-ticket, the airline had no e-ticket in their system, and my travel agent, despite being a large national chain, no longer had a 24 hour phone service. So I couldn't get on a plane on Saturday night.

Sunday morning, I rang the travel agent - they couldn't help me because their ticket office is not open on weekends... In the end my mum booked me a completely new ticket with Qantas, ringing them as we were on the way to the airport at 1pm. At 1:30 I picked up my ticket and checked in for the 3:30 flight to London. When the plane finally taxied down the runway, I almost couldn't believe that I was actually on board, going to Europe.

I arrived in Brussels on Monday morning, welcomed with a lovely grey, rainy Belgian summer's day! After catching the slow train to Bruges (I later found out that the L on the train timetable stood for Local (stops at every two-bit, one horse, three cow village)) and sharing a compartment with assorted Flemish farmers, dressed in pullovers and gumboots, I finally arrived in Bruges, where it was still cold and raining and grey. But at least I got there!

One week to go!

2007-07-13T11:55:00.000+10:00

... or more precisely one week and one day to go before I leave for Europe.

I guess this is the time for the big announcement: I'm going to Bruges to participate (I hate the word compete!) in this year's Harpsichord Competition. This is why I have been so quiet over the past coupla months - I've been practicing my ass off! Oh, and the fact that I'm still having a fight with the computer repair people, who didn't fix my computer properly, and still have it sitting in their workshop... yes, that might have something to do with it as well...

Amazing art

2007-06-06T20:29:00.000+10:00

I played at fortyfivedownstairs the other week, when they had a great exhibition called Natura.

I saw what is now one of my favourite works of art - this painting by Christopher Beaumont. If I had had a spare four grand in my wallet (and if someone else hadn't already have bought the painting) I would have bought this without hesitation.

This is ridiculous!

2007-06-06T20:26:00.000+10:00

Computer troubles are still in full swing. Too complicated to go in to.

Boring boring boring.

I still don't have a computer that works. And now I dislike Apple repair people and insurance people.

So sorry for the uber sporadic posts!

Quiet Music Festival

2007-05-07T23:01:00.000+10:00

I heard about the Quiet Music Festival today. It's being held on Sunday. Maybe I'll try and go.
I really like the idea of a festival "dedicated to the celebration of detail, timbre and musical expression", and I am glad there are people like Leo Dale in this world, who know that

The beauty and skill in slow, quiet music can be such that you suspend your breathing and you can almost hear colours and textures in it.

Our PM expects us to be selfish

2007-04-23T22:37:00.000+10:00

I just heard our esteemed prime minister say that Australian voters should ask themseves: what policy is "best for me and best for my family?" What about what is best for the community as a whole? Best for society?

Obviously we are all expected to vote as selfish myopes, fortifying ourselves from the nasty big wide world that lies ouside our white picket fences.

This makes me feel a little strange

2007-04-21T12:53:00.000+10:00

So I googled myself. Come on, admit it, we all do that occasionally!

There's all the usual stuff - concerts I've done, that kind of thing. But one thing caught my eye. This was a discussion on the Eques Forum (which is a horse magazine website - strange!) regarding an email that I had sent someone when I was doing some temporary office work over summer. I was working for an accountancy which recovers lost super and the like for people, and we got lots of enquiries from people who thought we were trying to scam them, which we weren't. It makes me feel quite weird, being talked about on some forum in connection with something which is really not anything to do with me, just because I happened to do some temp work over summer.

I'm back

2007-04-19T08:10:00.000+10:00

... and back to me!

A word of warning: be very, very, very careful when using headphones in your laptop and simultaneously trying to carry the laptop across the room. In fact, don't even try at all. Because headphones have wires which get caught on things and make computers jump out of hands and crash on the floor.

So yeah, I dropped my computer, and then it didn't work. And I am a poor postgrad musician with no money to buy a new one. I really just wanted to turn back time by about 30 seconds.

Anyway, to cut a long, and rather boring, story short, the next day I had a brainwave and realised that my insurance covers 'accidental damage'. So there was a week of phone calls to the insurance people and the computer service people, to get quotes, and decide exactly who was going to authorise the repair. Then three weeks for the parts to arrive at the service centre. Apparently Apple was out of stock of some essential part.

Finally it was all repaired and ready for me to pick up on Tuesday. So now I have a computer again!

Concert photo

2007-03-12T12:51:00.000+11:00

A photo of me and my fellow musos as we finish a performance at Wendy Jore's final Masters recital last Wednesday (that's me on the left, sitting at the harpsichord).

How to make yourself feel old...

2007-02-28T12:28:00.000+11:00

...without even trying!

It's easy, especially if you are born in those dark days before 1980! Just walk through a university campus during orientation week. I made the mistake of doing that yesterday, on my way to the Baillieu Library to photocopy some esoteric harpsichord music. The place is crawling with eager new first year students, wide-eyed and full of enthusiasm for parties and pub crawls. Ten years ago that was me. Ten years! I am a whole decade older than them - a decade less enthusiastic and a decade more cynical...

but I don't feel any older or wiser, really.

Ground Elastic Sound

2007-02-24T19:25:00.000+11:00

Oh, the heat! The last few days have been absolutely tropical here in Melbourne town. But somehow we have survived, mostly.

Last night I endured the un-airconditioned stuffy mugginess (but visual splendour) of the Forum Theatre to hear Ground Elastic Sound, a concert presented by Melbourne composers' collective Dead Horse Productions.

First of all I was very impressed with the audience they attracted. There must have been between 200 and 300 people there, which for a presentation of new compositions is very impressive for this city. Their marketing campaign was excellent, and I think struck the right balance between a street aesthetic and a more intellectual avant-garde feel. It certainly seemed to attract the punters.

I was expecting that there would be some works which I would really enjoy and others which I would think were crap, to put it bluntly. But I was very pleasantly surprised. All seven pieces in the program I found engaging and enjoyable.

I loved how the concert opened with a Biddy Connor's Ground Elastic Sound Fanfare played by clarinet, trumpet, trombone and baritone saxophone standing in the aisles in the audience, and making their way to the stage during the piece, joined in the middle by a tenor saxophone entering from side stage.

For some reason I remember really enjoying Wally Gunn's Eleven Fifty-Five, although now I can't really remember the specifics of the piece. There was some beautiful string writing, and a particularly poignant moment between a string trio, horn and clarinet.

Kate Neal's Semaphore also struck me with its timeless timbre, taking its inspiration from T.S. Elliott's poem The Rock:

In the beginning, God created the world. Waste and Void.
Waste and Void. And darkness was upon the face of the deep...

The poem was presented before the performance of the music, in a video projection of Kate's hand writing the poem on a piece of paper, which was much more personal and engaging than merely projecting the typed text onto the screen.

I think the highlight of the concert for me was David Chisholm's Ikebana, performed by both a live and a pre-recorded string quartet. I loved the driving momentum of this work, with the constant contrapuntal interplay of the 'virtual' quartet with the live musicians onstage. David describes this work as

almost a renovation of Baroque threads, a reupholstering, perhaps, of a threadbare couch utilising modern materials and instincts.

The musicians were superb - fully commited to the music and playing with a lot of focus and feeling on an almost unbearably hot and humid night. So kudos to them.

I thoroughly enjoyed myself through about 90 minutes of new music - which is more than I can say for some concerts of 'old' classical music that I have been to! Congratulations to Wally and the rest of the Dead Horse Productions gang, and I look forward to their next gig...

Revenge of the Dish Monster

2007-02-22T22:36:00.000+11:00

Memo to self: it's best to attack the dish monster before the mould starts to grow!

Rain running

2007-02-14T09:30:00.001+11:00

Yesterday afternoon, as I pulled on my running shoes, thunder rolled around the sky. A few minutes into my run, and little drops of rain started to fall. It was a lovely, light, steady rain, that cooled the air slightly, without making it cold. Smells of the earth and growing plants wafted in the air, and the most beautiful double rainbow I have ever seen filled the eastern sky.

I just had to stop running for a minute to take this photo with my phone.

Morning Routines

2007-02-13T15:10:00.000+11:00

I slept in this morning. I kept pressing "snooze" on my alarm, and finally got up with only just enough time to sink down a cup of coffee, grab a bowl of cereal, throw on some clothes and jump in my car. I've had a headache all day and certainly haven't been my most focussed or productive self.

How you start the day certainly sets the tone for the day, and a pleasant, relaxed beginning makes for a much more pleasant day. We all know what happens when we get out of bed "on the wrong side" - when we start the day badly it can be very hard to turn it around.

So what is a good start to the day? I sat down and wrote my ideal morning routine:

I would wake up at about 6am
make myself a nice hot cup of herbal tea (somehow I miraculously no longer need my caffiene hit before I can do anything)
write my morning pages
do some yoga
have breakfast, shower, etc
make a fanstasic cup of coffee, and carry it into my warm, light-filled studio to settle down at my harpsichord for a long practice session.

This is not something I have yet managed to do (and I have to work on that music studio!), and currently I am a complete zombie in the mornings, but nevertheless it is something I intend to work towards.

Morning routines seem to be an important part of many successful people's lives. 17 out of 20 top executives that Jim Citrin spoke to woke up before 6am to exercise, check email, and start the day in a relaxed manner; 36 people on 43 Things want to develop a morning routine; and bloggers everywhere (here, here and here) are analysing how best to start the day.

What's your morning routine?

Image from Stock.xchng

Being yourself

2007-02-11T13:59:00.000+11:00

I realised the other night what the phrase "just being yourself" actually means. This phrase used to frustrate me - as though I could be anyone else but myself! And when you're nervous before an interview or date, the last thing you want someone to say is "just be yourself". It doesn't seem very helpful or encouraging at a time when you're feeling vulnerable and unsure of yourself. Maybe you don't even like yourself much at that moment, or you don't really think you're that special. How can just being yourself possibly help?

The important part of that phrase is actually not "yourself", it's "be". It's not about who you are, it's how you are. The meaning resides in the concept of being. It is about turning off the external viewpoint, shutting down the critical observer's voice and just being.

So many times I catch myself looking over my shoulder, looking at myself, thinking "Why did I just say that? That sounds so stupid. Am I speaking too loudly? What are people thinking? Maybe I should have worn that other skirt today..." and so on.

It is only when I turn off this self-consciousness, and simply be me, looking out at the world with interest and wonder, and not looking back at myself in some kind of narcisistic self-feedback loop - it is only then that I am truly being myself.

Random acts of music

2007-01-30T23:01:00.000+11:00

I saw a beautiful thing today.
Well, actually I heard it before I saw it.
On City Road, out the back of grey, humanless skyscrapers.
A waft of music on the air.
A burly security guard, in grey-blue pants and a shirt, a communication earpiece in his ear, huddled in the fire-escape,
Playing a mouthorgan.

The myth about beige cardigans

2007-01-24T21:39:00.000+11:00

I am a musician. It makes sense for me to teach music, both financially and personally. Financially, I can earn almost twice as much per hour as I can doing most other things. Personally, it is good for me to be engaged with as much music as possible, and to "live" music. It is excellent to have to put my ideas about music into words, to find ways to explain musical concepts that I take for granted. And makes much more sense for me to earn my pennies doing something related to the career that I want to have.

So why have I been so reluctant to earn money by teaching? I realised the other day that I have a lot of resistance to the idea of being a "music teacher". Subconsciously I felt that music teachers are unattractive, lonely, boring people who wear beige cardigans (apologies to all music teachers for this terrible stereotype). I don't know why I had this image in my head, or where it came from. My music teachers have always been very vibrant and lovely people who would never go anywhere near beige!

Maybe I worry that I will become some kind of social outcast if I become a music teacher. Again, I don't know where all this baggage is coming from. Lots of very interesting, fascinating, friendly and sociable people teach in schools so what am I worried about? I'm not going to be some kind of gnome that hides in the music room and doesn't talk to anyone! And anyway, the purpose of working is to do just that - work. If friendships grow out of working relationships well so much the better, but that's not the purpose of working to earn a crust.

So I'm going to teach. I'm going to share the knowledge that I have gained in all the years of university and the life experience I have gained from, well, being alive. I want to inspire others and in turn open myself to inspiration and new inputs. I love music and it's time to share the love and blast any remotely beige ideas out the window!

Drops

2007-01-19T07:09:00.003+11:00

I woke up to the beautiful sound of rain on my roof - rain that we haven't had since Christmas. There are big drops, little drips, pattering on the leaves and plants and drumming on the tin roof. I can almost feel the happiness of the plants, soaking it all up into their parched and yellowing stems.

I am reminded of the wonderful Score for a Hole in the Ground, which uses dripping water to create an incredible musical installation. I am completely in love with the concept of this piece - the gramaphone-like amplifier just sitting there in the woods, the way that people can just come across the piece unexpectedly, the fact that nature (the great creator?) is actually playing the piece now that it is out of human control.

I'm back

2007-01-17T07:34:00.000+11:00

It's summer. It's hot. It's already 30 degrees, and only 7:30am. Yesterday in the city it was 40.8 degrees, and still Melbournians were buying their steaming hot lattes. I love the way this city is addicted to its coffee!

I feel as though I am just ready to start the year now. The last month or so has involved a lot of planning and soul-searching, and re-planning and dreaming. I am quite excited about the prospects for this year, although it is also very daunting.

It's funny how the idea of moving from one year to the next can be such a powerful motivator for taking stock of one's life and making decisions. Who doesn't make new year's resolutions of some kind or another? But in actual fact the difference between December 31 and January 1 is just that the earth has made one more turn - the importance of these dates is purely in our minds. Still, it's a good opportunity to plan and dream!

The Best Christmas Present

2006-12-25T11:24:00.001+11:00

A few drops fell on Friday night, and yesterday afternoon, and then it rained all last night. The sound of heavy drops falling on my roof is something I haven't heard for what seems like months. The parched earth and thirsty trees are soaking it up. It is putting out the bushfires and bringing relief to all of us in this drought, and especially the people whose livelihood is directly dependant on the land. What better Christmas present could we have?

(Image from stock.xchng)

The true faces of our erstwhile leaders

2006-12-14T11:49:00.000+11:00

Tanja Stark, you have made my day!
See more of her gothic genious at poligoths

via Sarsaparilla

Money and Study and Time

2006-12-10T13:05:00.000+11:00

With a HECS debt that could easily serve as a deposit on a house, and that is going to take me years to pay off, I am very glad that my current course is not adding to it. In fact, I simply wouldn't be able to do it if I had to pay. As it is, I am struggling to work enough to pay my bills, while having time to devote to my music. This year I think the balance was tipped too far towards money-work and not enough towards study-work, and as a consequence I didn't gain the results that I would need to get a scholarship for next year, which would mean that I would be able to do less money-work and consequently achieve more with my music.

It is a chicken-and-egg scenario - it is hard to continually devote the time it takes to excel in anything without having any financial assistance, and the financial assistance is impossible to obtain without achieving results that require large investments of time and energy.

It hasn't always been like this, though: this article in today's Sunday Age reminds me that the baby-boomers who are now running the system, and making it harder and harder for current students, had the benefits of free education, affordable housing and stable employment prospects.

(Image from stock.xchng)

A Charn Sunset

2006-12-05T21:30:00.001+11:00

The light from the setting sun was blood red on the trunks of the gum trees as I walked through Westerfolds Park this evening. The smoke from the bushfires is a feint haze in the air, but more than enough change the light to remind me of the old world of Charn, in C.S. Lewis' The Magician's Nephew, a book that I hadn't thought about for years.

Low down and near the horizon hung a great, red sun, far bigger than our sun. Digory felt at once that it was also older than ours: a sun near the end of its life, weary of looking down upon the world. To the left of the sun, and higher up, there was a single star, big and bright. Those were the only two things to be seen in the dark sky; they made a dismal group. And on the earth, in every direction, as far as the eye could reach, there spread a vast city in which there was no living thing to be seen. And all the temples, towers, palaces, pyramids, and bridges cast long, disastrous-looking shadows in the light of that whithered sun. Once a great river had flowed through the city, but the water had long since vanished, and it was now only a wide ditch of grey dust.

There are rivers and lakes in this country that are little more than dust, thanks to the drought, and with a Prime Minister who is gung-ho for nuclear power, is it so strange to think of a world being destroyed by "magic"?

Brian Eno lecture

2006-12-04T21:02:00.000+11:00

A couple of weeks ago, while I was up during the night suffering biological payback (why is it always that the women suffer while men get off scott free?), I distracted myself from my discomfort by listening to this lecture by Brian Eno, as part of the BBC's Free Thinking series. Brian Eno is a fascinating chap, and an excellent speaker, and this lecture prompted me to continue my musings about time, particularly in relation to his Long Now project.

Existential crisis

2006-11-30T10:52:00.000+11:00

Oh my! The bigger the project, the bigger existential downer afterwards!

The reason I haven't posted here for a long time is because I had my masters recital last night. This was one hour of music that I have been focussing on since February - it is as though the whole year's work was distilled into that one event. The focus was intense, to say the least.

I find it really hard to evaluate my performance. There were a lot of things I was very pleased with, and also quite a few moments I was distinctly not pleased with. But I realised a few days ago that I never really believed that I could actually get up there and do it, so the very fact that I did it is excellent!

I had it recorded, and it will be interesting to listen back to the recording, and see how it sounded from the outside. Often I find, when listening back to recorded performances, that mistakes and glitches that seemed massive from the perspective of the performer actually are barely noticable, while other things that I was hardly aware of at the time stick out like sore thumbs.

But it's all in the past now.

And I'm facing a sink full of unwashed dishes and a desk full of unpaid bills. Welcome back to normality!

Sparkling shiraz

2006-11-16T00:01:00.000+11:00

Life is full of meetings and partings. Some last for a lifetime, some for only a few hours. The length of time does not reflect the significance of the encounter. A moment shared between two people. A memory held for life. A smile, a glance, a kiss. They won’t be forgotten. The heart holds more than photographs.

Is a bittersweet parting at the airport better than a messy domestic break up in a year’s time? Or is it the safe option?

(and by the way, Tasmania was beautiful)

Heading South

2006-11-07T09:25:00.000+11:00

I'm off to Tasmania for a few days. I feel I may not be quite the same person when I return. I'll let you know...

Saturday morning in Eltham

2006-11-04T11:55:00.000+11:00

The sun was shining, but it's not any more. The air is sweet, though, and I have my front door open. I am hibernating this weekend. Today is the first day for a month that I haven't had to drive into the city, and I plan to make the most of it.

I am listening to
and drinking organic orange juice, which is one of the best things eva :)

The plan for today is to practice, write, read, rest...

There is one phrase from a book I am reading which for some reason won't leave me alone: "every heart has secrets is dares not tell". I am not quite at peace with my life just now, there is a niggling feeling in my heart... but there's nothing I can do about it now, so it may just have to lie there for a while longer.

What is Practice? Part 5...

2006-11-02T19:14:00.000+11:00

Hello, My Name is Practice

I am planned and disciplined, spontaneous and creative.
I marry emotion and reason, technique and expression.
I am focus and imagination, work and play.

Sometimes I like to repeat things over and over again, listening for small changes each time. I gain insight through mantra.

Sometimes I like to perform for myself with abandon, not caring about wrong notes, but feeling the sweep of the music carry me away.

I can be a microscope, investigating the smallest detail of a trill, or a giant telescope, linking the constellations of movements, keys and themes.

I can lose myself in intricate detail and discover infinity in a simple melody.

My heart moves within and without time, capable of stretching split seconds into eternity, as well as beating crotchets at exactly 84 beats per minute.

I am deep stillness in contemplation, dancing movement, perseverance through frustration.

I listen, I feel, I touch, I remember, I discover, I am, I do.

I am a way of life, a meditation, a path of growth.

I am a musician’s personal liturgy.

Sci-Fi Soviet Architecture

2006-11-01T20:01:00.000+11:00

My new favourite place on the web, PingMag, has some photos by Frederic Chaubin of strange and wonderful buildings in what used to be the USSR. I want to know what they look like inside!

What is Practice? Part 4 - Going Deeper

2006-10-29T20:53:00.000+11:00

(Part 1)
(Part 2)
(Part 3)

The history of the word practice is quite interesting. The earliest recorded use in English was in 1392, when it meant "to do, act, or perform habitually." This came, via Old French, from Middle Latin practicare, meaning "to do, perform.” Here there is nothing about the purpose of acquiring a skill or proficiency. These earlier forms of the word are all about doing.

I started to think about the practice of a musical instrument in these terms.

What if practice was about doing? If the doing was the important part of the practice? What if the impending performance was not the supreme goal of the practice, it was merely a by-product? How does practice affect us as people, not just performance machines? Could I be a music practitioner, rather than a performer?

The word practice is used today not only in the context of music. It is often used when talking about spirituality, meditation and religion. If I practice meditation, how is that different to practicing my instrument? Could practicing my instrument become less like a chore and more like the practice of a belief-system? Something that flows through the whole of my life?

How well can I get to know a single note? How deeply can I inhabit the silence of a rest? How far can I stretch the space between two semiquavers?

Can I approach my practice with compassion, without judgement or guilt? Can I enjoy the journey without an obsessive need to arrive?

Could I view practice not as something that separates and isolates me from the world, but as something that connects me to a deep current of humanity?

Now I really have no answers to these questions, and I don’t really know if it is possible. Maybe this is all a bit way-out. But I am starting to formulate a picture in my mind’s eye of a possible practice…

This is a deep practice, working with vertical time, rather than horizontal time. There is no clock-watching.

This practice is about really knowing the music, getting completely settled with the material, and with myself.

This practice approaches the instrument with interest, and really listens to the sounds. There is awareness, rather than judgement.

This practice is a whole attitude to life. It is a lifestyle, encompassing much more than technique or even musicality.

It is a doing that involves aesthetics and philosophy, emotion, reason and soul. It affects not only the music but life itself.

* * *

If this practice could talk, maybe it would say…

...to be continued...

Post-show blues

2006-10-26T21:42:00.000+10:00

Oh, how I hate the day after. The day after the big gig, the day after the show ends, the day after it is all over and life threatens to go back to grey normality. Why is it always at this time that the question of my future and what I am to do with it looms large?

What is Practice? Part 3 - On the surface – Practice as Preparation for Performance

2006-10-24T17:22:00.000+10:00

(Part 1)
(Part 2)

Certainly much of our practice is geared towards acquiring skill or proficiency. There is a certain level of technical ability required to play a musical instrument, and we need to be able to play the right notes at the right pitch at the right speed.

To gain this technical proficiency, we “play… things that nobody would want to listen to. This might include scales, arpeggios, extended tones…, and various technical patterns.” As Chad Fowler remarks:

I would certainly never record them and release them on a CD. I wouldn't even bore anyone with these sounds unless they either lived in my house and had no choice or were being paid to listen to them and offer suggestions for improvement.

But we don’t want to acquire technical skill just for the sake of having technical skill. No, we want to perform for an audience. So practice could also be defined as the preparation for performance. Private, isolated practice in preparation for public performance.

So we practice our pieces, work on the fingering for a particular passage, play those bars over and over again until we cannot possibly make a mistake. We analyse the harmony, and impart meaning into the melody. We turn the piece of music inside out and find out how it was put together, so we can re-create it in our own interpretation. We try to get under the skin of the music, to feel its emotions as our own.

This process of preparing for performance takes time, patience, discipline, and often seems like a lot of hard work. But the goal is in sight – that big recital. Wow, won’t it be great to have achieved that! All this hard work will have been worth it!

But what happens when that big recital has been? Our practice is not at an end. We still have to turn up at the instrument the next day, continuing to hone our technique and learning the music for the next gig. Just like the proverbial housework, practice is never really done.
In our practice we are constantly striving towards some future date, focussed on a target that keeps moving as our goals grow and shift. We are never satisfied because what we are working for is never now. It is always somewhere in the future.

Practice can be very easily seen as merely the means to an end, the road by which we arrive at our real goals as musicians – performance. Because, after all, we’re performers, not practicers, aren’t we?

What is Practice? Part 2 - As Described by Others

2006-10-19T16:12:00.000+10:00

(part 1 of What is Practice? is here)

When I questioned music students about what they thought practice was, the answers included: “Torture”; “A process of trying to improve your technical skills”; “To work on something to attain a high standard or perfection. This involves an amount of repetition.”; “Repetition in the hope of getting it better.”; and “Working at getting something right – getting better at something.”

So far, these are not particularly positive descriptions. They involve work, repetition, slogging away at the instrument for some future glory.

When I looked up the dictionary, I found that practice could be “a habitual or customary performance”, “a habit or custom”, “repeated performance or systematic exercise for the purpose of acquiring skill or proficiency”, “skill gained by experience or exercise”, or “the action or process of performing or doing something” .

It is the third of these definitions that many, if not most, music students, and certainly myself, generally associate with the idea of practicing our instruments: “repeated performance or systematic exercise for the purpose of acquiring skill or proficiency.”

We set the fire alarm off!

2006-10-18T12:39:00.000+10:00

Last night, in our dress rehearsal, all was going to plan: Margie was lighting the burning town, it was looking fabulous. Then whoop-whoop-beep-beep-beep "please evacuate the space now, and make your way to the assembly point outside..."

The smoke alarms in the venue had been isolated, but not the ones in the School of Art ceramic studio next door. And the smoke travelled through the vents in the walls...

I think the audience thought it was part of the show! Luckily it was a balmy evening, and the bar next door was open, so we sat outside with a beer for a while, waiting for the firemen to tell us it was safe to go back in!

What is Practice? Part 1 - My Experience

2006-10-17T14:19:00.000+10:00

I presented a phemomenology of practice in my masters seminar last week. This is the first of a 4-part series containing some excerpts from the paper. I found that through writing the paper I have started to radically re-think the concept of practice, and what it means in my life.

I started by thinking about my personal experience of practice...

I think it’s fair to say, that until now I have on the whole been unhappy with my practice. I used to think that it was a burden to be grudgingly borne on the rocky road to the glittering hall of performance, but I am not so sure now. If I am to be a musician, it is something that I am going to have to do a lot of, and I am determined to find a way to make it an integral and enjoyable part of my life if that is at all possible.

So I set out to find what it is, why I have had such a fractured relationship with it, and what it has the potential to be in my life.

I don’t really remember much about practice from when I was a child. I remember playing the piano, but I don’t really remember practicing. I am not sure what distinction I am making between playing and practicing here, but I think it might have something to do with making a conscious decision to aim to improve the playing of a piece or to get to know it better. That’s an interesting phrase: to get to know a piece. There’s “knowing the notes”, which is different from “knowing” or “getting to know” in terms of making friends or becoming acquainted with the music.

I know that I have never thought that I have done enough practice, that I have never felt completely prepared for a performance. So that is one thing that I have seen practice as: preparation for performance. I wonder what “enough practice” would feel like – does anyone ever think they have done enough practice? I have always seen practice as hard, long, boring work that I have put off for as long as possible. It has connotations of endless hours at the instrument, repeating the same passage over and over again. It is necessary drudgery – slaving over a hot keyboard. Hours of scales; up and down, up and down, up and down.

I feel frustrated when I am practicing, and feel that I don’t quite know how to do it properly. No-one ever taught me how to practice. I don’t want to dislike practice. I don’t want to spend hours each day doing something I don’t enjoy. I am sure there is a way of enjoying practice, and I think I have felt glimpses of this occasionally. I don’t always hate practice, but it is certainly not something I look forward to. What do I think it is? Why do I not look forward to it?

I see it as stealing time away from me, and I feel directionless and unsure of what and how to practice. No matter what I am practicing, I wonder whether there is something else that I should be working on. I am not confident about my own decisions about what and how to practice. I don’t know how to measure my practice – how to know whether I am doing the right thing or whether I am doing enough of it.

I also find it hard to focus on one detail of the music when there are so many others clamouring for attention, and I often get discouraged.

There is a lot of guilt attached to my practice – either I’m not doing enough or I’m not doing the right thing. I can’t remember ever being entirely satisfied with a practice session. There is always the feeling that somehow I cheated, took the easy way out, glossed over something, or gave up on it. I have seen practice as something that is to be endured rather than enjoyed, and something that I have tried to do as little as possible of, rather than as much as possible. I don’t know what effective and enjoyable practice is – I’ve never done it. I think I’ve always just ended up playing things over and over again, hoping that somehow it would sink in. There’s a lot of blind hoping and not really feeling secure with anything. I feel that basically I have been flying by the seat of my pants. I haven’t really “known” the music that I’ve performed, and I’ve trusted to luck that I’d get most of the notes right.

Sunday morning

2006-10-15T09:55:00.000+10:00

Sam, Jess and Tom - thanks for coming round for dinner last night. It was really great to hang out and cook, drink wine, and dance together.

My offering for you this morning is a meme from Liz.

46 random questions about me...

Have you ever:
1. Taken a picture completely naked? no
2. Danced in front of a mirror naked? no
3. Told a lie? yes
4. Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back? yes
5. Been arrested? no
6. Seen someone die? no
7. Kissed a picture? no
8. Slept in until 5pm? no
9. Had sex at work (on the clock)? no
10. Fallen asleep at work/school? yes
11. Held a snake? yes
12. Ran a red light? yes
13. Been suspended from school? no
14. Pole danced? no
15. Been fired from a job? no
16. Sang karaoke? no
17. Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? yes
18. Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? yes
19. Laughed until you peed? no
20. Caught a snowflake on your tongue? no
21. Kissed in the rain? yes
22. Had sex in the rain? no
23. Sang in the shower? yes
24. Gave your private parts a nickname? no
25. Ever gone to school/work without underwear? no
26. Sat on a roof top? yes
27. Played chicken? no
28. Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? no
29. Broken a bone? yes
30. Flashed someone? no
31. Mooned someone? no
32. Shaved your head? yes
33. Slept naked? yes
34. Blacked out from drinking? no
35. Played a prank on someone? yes
36. Had a gym membership? yes
37. Felt like killing someone? no
38. Cried over someone you were in love with? yes
39. Had Mexican jumping beans for pets? no
40. Been in a band? no
41. Shot a gun? yes
42. Shot a bow and arrow? yes
43. Played strip poker? no
44. Donated Blood? no
45. Ever jump out of an airplane? no
46. Been to more than 10 countries? no

So there. Quite tame, really.

Festival shenanigans

2006-10-13T16:57:00.000+10:00

Went to the opening night party for the Melbourne Festival last night. The champagne was flowing freely and the dance floor was groovin!

Hence I am rather less than eloquent today. We don't open until Thursday night next week, and there's a lot of work still to be done on the show. I did manage to sneak a half hour nap on a couch this afternoon, though :)

Still alive

2006-10-08T13:52:00.000+10:00

Sleep definitely helps. With a lot of things. It is amazing how much easier it is to do stuff when I've had enough sleep. Who would have thunk? :)

I'm currently working on the practice paper. It's still daunting, but not as much as it was a couple of days ago, and my ideas are starting to crystallise. I have realised that I have never really been confident of my ability to practice, and have not trusted myself to make the right decisions about practicing. Somehow I always doubt myself, and find it really hard to measure or evaluate my practice. I think there is a lot of guilt attached to my practice - I feel that either I'm not doing enough or I'm not doing the right thing. I'm not really sure exactly what practice is yet, but I think I'm getting closer.

Stephen Nachmanovitch, in his book Free Play, describes practice as the "encounter with the gap between what we feel and what we can express", which is very similar to the way I feel about this paper right now. I think it's all in my head somewhere, but I am finding it really hard to get it down on paper.

Overwhelming craziness

2006-10-06T09:09:00.000+10:00

Crazy crazy crazy... we've got less than two weeks to go before Navigators opens at the Melbourne Festival. I feel like it's starting to come together, but there's still a lot of work to do, and I'm feeling quite overwhelmed by everything that's going on at the moment.

I burst into tears at my harpsichord lesson yesterday, just feeling like there is an insurmountable mountain of work that has to be done before my recital at the end of November. My teacher was very understanding, and handed me tissues while helping me work it all out.

I've got to present a phenomenological investigation of practice in my Masters seminar on Wednesday, and I have hardly started on it, so this weekend is going to be spent on that.

My grandmother died last weekend, which was sad, but also a blessing, as she had been suffering for a long time. She turned 100 years old in February, and had a long, happy and fulfilled life. The funeral was yesterday, which was a small ceremony conducted by my mother, auntie and uncle, and attended by the close family.

Right now I'm actually at work, sneaking five minutes to write this. I know that when I get home tonight, I will be too tired to do anything but collapse into my bed.

Anyway, this is not meant to be whingey or a plea for sympathy, it's just how it is right now.

Listening

2006-09-27T08:25:00.000+10:00

On Friday last week I presented a short piece that I had written for the Navigators Project. I think listening to music while lying on the ground should be done more often :)

(thanks to Voin for the pic!)

Procrastination Queen

2006-09-26T08:33:00.000+10:00

I am the queen of procrastination. I have been avoiding this blog like the plague. It's not that I have forgotten it, or that I've been stuck for ideas about stuff to write about. No, not at all. I've simply been procrastinating.

Granted, life is kinda crazy busy right now - but when is that not the case? We have this unarticulated fantasy that at some point in the future there will be enough time to do the things we are not doing now because we are too busy. I know for a fact that's never going to be the case with me. I am always trying to do enough things for 3 people - right now it is:
- working full-time on the Melbourne Festival show
- studying full-time
- working half-time for money

There is a paradox for me where I get really inspired and motivated when I'm busy, but not for the thing I'm supposed to be working on. When I'm practicing, I'll have a great idea for a theatre show; when I'm in a lecture, I'll have an idea for a song, but when I sit down at the instrument the last thing that I want to do is work on the song. I seem to get the motivation all in the wrong places! And then when I do have a few hours of free time on the weekend, do you think that I want to jump into that project that I've been dreaming about all week? Of course not! I want to sit on the couch with a cup of coffee and the Sunday papers. Time and motivation for me seem not to connect and the result is procrastination.

Practice again

2006-09-07T21:49:00.000+10:00

It has been a struggle to get practicing again after my 2-week hiatus. On Monday I couldn't face the instrument, on Tuesday afternoon I tuned and improvised and played a couple of my recital pieces, yesterday I did about an hour's serious practice, and today it was close to two hours. Being a musician requires a ridiculous amount of self-discipline, and sometimes I wonder whether I am up to the task.

Home again, home again, jiggity jig

2006-09-05T13:49:00.000+10:00

It is very strange to be back in 'civilisation' after spending the past two weeks in the seeming emptiness of far north Queensland. There is no way I can possibly encapsulate the entire trip into words, and certainly not in one post, so I will simply give some of my impressions, and elaborate on them at another time.

- Time is a strange thing - my whole perception of time changed while I was away, and to my surprise, the hours of travel along dusty dirt roads passed quickly and became almost like a meditation.

- The way we percieve different landscapes changes the longer we spend time there - many times during the trip I felt quite alien from the landscape when I first arrived in a place, and was sure I would never feel comfortable or at home there, but after a day in that place I started to feel quite differently about it.

- Australia is truly a land of contrasts - we would be travelling through parched, dry bushland and suddenly come across a beautiful billabong with waterlilies and brolgas; at other times we would be standing on a paradise beach with coconut palms and azure sea, but not be able to swim because of the deadly crocodiles and stingrays; in the dry season the rivers are only stagnant puddles along dry watercourses, when in the wet they rise 10 meters and cut off all road access.

- The amazing warmth and generosity shown to us by the three indigenous communities we visited will touch me forever, I think. It was one of the most beautiful and humbling things that I have ever experienced, to be welcomed with open arms by people who have been so dreadfully wronged by the culture that I represent.

Last night in Melbourne

2006-08-19T21:07:00.000+10:00

Well this is my last night in Melbourne for a couple of weeks. Today was spent shopping for sunscreen, tropical-strength insect repellent and other such essentials. I have just made sure that my ipod is loaded with everything I might possibly want to listen to, and my underwear is all washed! I had dinner with Anne and Jeff, and spent a beautiful hour chatting with Anne beside the fire.

In a way I am sad to be leaving my little house, even if it is only for two weeks. I have really settled in here since I moved in February, and I feel so comfortable and very much myself at home. It will be nice to know that my home will be waiting for me when I return from my journey into the unknown, and that, no matter what happens out in the bush, there is a safe place for me to retreat to back here in Melbourne.

I have no idea what to expect from this expedition, and I am trying to keep my pre-conceptions and assumptions to a minimum. I want to approach everything with an open mind and heart, because I think that is the way I will gain most and grow from the experience.

"Music" from the Natural World

2006-08-17T09:44:00.000+10:00

Musicians have always been fascinated with birdsong, and there's a bit of a new age craze for making music from whale song... is the next big thing volcano music?

Thanks to the Well-Tempered Blog for the link.

More about DasArts

2006-08-17T09:29:00.000+10:00

The overseas artists who us VCAites will be travelling and collaborating with on the Navigators Project are all studying at DasArts, a multi-disciplinary arts college in Amsterdam. Richard Murphet, one of the artistic directors for the project, has written an article about his visit to DasArts here.

DasArts also have a blog about the project here.

I'm counting down the days until I get on that plane to Cairns! Only 3 sleeps to go...

Wise words from Steve Pavlina

2006-08-16T11:10:00.000+10:00

When you seek to experience life instead of doubting and fearing it, joy becomes your natural state of being. It doesn’t matter what outcome you get because your attitude is always, “What a fascinating experience!”

I think I need to keep this in mind as I prepare to travel close to the top of the continent in a crazy moon vehicle!

Navigators Project

2006-08-13T11:29:00.000+10:00

In one week I will be flying to far north Queensland to spend two weeks exploring ideas and themes surrounding the landing of the Duyfken 400 years ago. I am taking part in the Navigators Project, a collaboration between the VCA and the Dutch arts collegeDasArts, which will result in a performance for the Melbourne Festival in October.

I think this is going to be quite an intensive experience. There are 24 artists from completely diverse backgrounds and with different methods of working. We are all going to spend two weeks in the outback, and will visit three Indigenous communities during that time. I feel as though I am travelling to another country, even though I won't be crossing any national boundaries.

The DasArts people arrived in Melbourne yesterday, and we are all meeting together for the first time this afternoon. I think the journey is about to begin...

Spring is coming

2006-08-12T13:09:00.000+10:00

The sun is shining. My windows are open. The magnolia is nearly in flower.

Everything is hard

2006-08-10T14:15:00.000+10:00

"I finally decided that everything is hard."

It explains why the pros will labor endlessly over a piece which might be graded as intermediate. It also explains why us non-pros should too. There's as much JSB in one of his Little Preludes as there is in one of his Partitas. Each is worth infinite effort.

I like the idea of pieces of music being worth "infinite effort" no matter what their "technical" difficulty is. It is so easy to spend hours practicing something with lots of notes-per-second and not spend so much time on the slower works. But really, no matter how "easy" it might be to play the notes, that is not making music. Music happens when, as my teacher says "you have an attidude to each note on the page", when each note has it's own place and meaning in our soul - and that takes timeand effort. Infinite effort, in fact.

Well I'm obviously crap

2006-08-09T11:39:00.000+10:00

at keeping resolutions!!

Maybe I should try this...

Balloon lands at VCA

2006-08-04T13:43:00.000+10:00

The one morning I decide to come into work late something exciting happens at work!!

Update: Video here

Men of Mortuaries

2006-08-03T09:40:00.000+10:00

From the lovely Stephanie I am led to this!! Wrong, but entertaining... and slightly creepy. Still, it's all for a good cause, I guess!