A busy old weekend
If I have any regular readers by this stage (chance'd be a fine thing!), my apologies for a few days' quiet. I've had guests, and not just any old guests either: my parents are up on their first visit to Scotland since my graduation (6 years ago), so I had to pull out all the stops.
We met at the airport so I could mapread them to their bed & breakfast, so once I'd got them settled in there we headed into town for lunch at the Mussel Inn on Rose St, a place well worth seeking out. The first bit of culture - more often than not the reason for holidays in my family - was going round the Britannia (the Royal Yacht which was decommissioned some five years ago, I think), after which we headed back to my flat for a bite to eat. One in-depth inspection of said flat and one mushroom risotto later, off we went to a concert given by the RSNO (that's the Royal Scottish National Orchestra, in case you were wondering) at the Usher Hall, an all-Russian programme of which the highlight was Tchaikovsky's fifth symphony. I'd quite forgotten how beautiful the second movement is.
That wasn't the end of the evening as I had a flatwarming to go to (my parents passed), where despite being something of a late arrival - some people had already left - I joined in singing Cole Porter songs around the piano. "So in love" got a particularly rousing rendition, no doubt helped by the words "so taunt me and hurt me, deceive me, desert me. I'm yours till I die". Even put in context, it still sounded a tad masochistic!
As ever, I was working yesterday (Saturday), so met my parents in the bookshop next door when I finished, where my mother shocked me by not buying a single book. She's a voracious reader as it is, and I'd fully expected to have to keep her on a tight leash knowing I get a discount there. We had another concert to head to, this time at the Queen's Hall, conveniently enough just a short walk from their accommodation, so as we were all a bit on the tired side we went to put our feet up there. The concert wasn't quite on a par with the RSNO's, partly down to none of us being that keen on Richard Strauss (though his oboe concerto had its moments), though the orchestra was clearly in its element in Mozart. A shame someone further along our row insisted on talking at inappropriate moments, but what can you do when glaring has no effect?
My Sundays are always busy singing in the choir at church, which meant I started preparing for lunch today last night (I'd done the shopping during my lunch hour): an onion tart then and an Apfelstrudel this morning. I only have the vaguest of recipes for the latter, the sort of thing where you have to guestimate the quantities throughout - for the first time, the pastry tore (in these cases, the recipe suggests you chuck it out and buy one ready-made, which is all very well if you live in Austria) but the taste was as good as ever. On my return from the morning services, I made three salads, at which point my parents arrived, soon followed by my friends Alison and Jim.
I'd been a little bit worried my father could be a bit difficult, but this proved unfounded: he can be a bit of a tyrant within the family circle, yet is invariably charming in wider company, as was the case today. At any rate, the whole occasion came off beautifully, complete with a priceless anecdote from Alison and Jim about a Swiss waiter whose gender they failed to determine over a three-hour meal, despite looking really hard. Come half-past five it was time to return to church for evensong, during which I realised the collect I had sung at matins was last week's (it was my first time leading the sung prayers, okay?); no major hitches this time round. We had a quick drink at a bar round the corner from my flat, largely so my parents could see other paintings by the artist I'd commissioned to do the one in my flat, then had an early supper at the Mexican cantina down the road.
The last bit involved my passing them the computer my brother wants back in exchange for a case of 12 bottles of wine (4 types, half red, half white). Even without taking the paintings they'd brought over for me into consideration, I can't help but think I've got the better half of the deal!
They're now off a little further north in the morning, while I have the washing-up to look forward to ...
We met at the airport so I could mapread them to their bed & breakfast, so once I'd got them settled in there we headed into town for lunch at the Mussel Inn on Rose St, a place well worth seeking out. The first bit of culture - more often than not the reason for holidays in my family - was going round the Britannia (the Royal Yacht which was decommissioned some five years ago, I think), after which we headed back to my flat for a bite to eat. One in-depth inspection of said flat and one mushroom risotto later, off we went to a concert given by the RSNO (that's the Royal Scottish National Orchestra, in case you were wondering) at the Usher Hall, an all-Russian programme of which the highlight was Tchaikovsky's fifth symphony. I'd quite forgotten how beautiful the second movement is.
That wasn't the end of the evening as I had a flatwarming to go to (my parents passed), where despite being something of a late arrival - some people had already left - I joined in singing Cole Porter songs around the piano. "So in love" got a particularly rousing rendition, no doubt helped by the words "so taunt me and hurt me, deceive me, desert me. I'm yours till I die". Even put in context, it still sounded a tad masochistic!
As ever, I was working yesterday (Saturday), so met my parents in the bookshop next door when I finished, where my mother shocked me by not buying a single book. She's a voracious reader as it is, and I'd fully expected to have to keep her on a tight leash knowing I get a discount there. We had another concert to head to, this time at the Queen's Hall, conveniently enough just a short walk from their accommodation, so as we were all a bit on the tired side we went to put our feet up there. The concert wasn't quite on a par with the RSNO's, partly down to none of us being that keen on Richard Strauss (though his oboe concerto had its moments), though the orchestra was clearly in its element in Mozart. A shame someone further along our row insisted on talking at inappropriate moments, but what can you do when glaring has no effect?
My Sundays are always busy singing in the choir at church, which meant I started preparing for lunch today last night (I'd done the shopping during my lunch hour): an onion tart then and an Apfelstrudel this morning. I only have the vaguest of recipes for the latter, the sort of thing where you have to guestimate the quantities throughout - for the first time, the pastry tore (in these cases, the recipe suggests you chuck it out and buy one ready-made, which is all very well if you live in Austria) but the taste was as good as ever. On my return from the morning services, I made three salads, at which point my parents arrived, soon followed by my friends Alison and Jim.
I'd been a little bit worried my father could be a bit difficult, but this proved unfounded: he can be a bit of a tyrant within the family circle, yet is invariably charming in wider company, as was the case today. At any rate, the whole occasion came off beautifully, complete with a priceless anecdote from Alison and Jim about a Swiss waiter whose gender they failed to determine over a three-hour meal, despite looking really hard. Come half-past five it was time to return to church for evensong, during which I realised the collect I had sung at matins was last week's (it was my first time leading the sung prayers, okay?); no major hitches this time round. We had a quick drink at a bar round the corner from my flat, largely so my parents could see other paintings by the artist I'd commissioned to do the one in my flat, then had an early supper at the Mexican cantina down the road.
The last bit involved my passing them the computer my brother wants back in exchange for a case of 12 bottles of wine (4 types, half red, half white). Even without taking the paintings they'd brought over for me into consideration, I can't help but think I've got the better half of the deal!
They're now off a little further north in the morning, while I have the washing-up to look forward to ...
posted by Anthony at
23:01
5 Comments:
I am obsessed with Richard Strauss...I once had a professor in school ask me to consider leaving his class, which was "The Operas of Berg, Britten and Strauss." This professor gave a lecture on why he thought Strauss was a dramatic and musical hack, and on the exam apparently expected us to regurgitate his ideas back to him in essay form. I took it upon myself to deconstruct his ideas point by point. Sadly, he took it very personally and told me he wasn't sure he could continue having me present in the class. I told him to get over it. Lass mich deinen Mund kussen, Jochanaan!
By
Andy, at 18/4/05 01:14
I was under the impression that an education was supposed to open your mind, not have someone attempt to close it for you ... (I took advantage of the system in another way, by comparing Mitterand favourably with de Gaulle in an essay for the left-wing head of department.)
Even I wouldn't call Strauss a hack, it's just I don't get him. As Anne Sofie von Otter and Soile Isokoski singing "Cappricio" at last year's Edinburgh Festival didn't manage to convert me, any ideas?
By
Anthony, at 18/4/05 18:52
Capriccio is really for the connoisseurs, and don't take that as a slight. It is what its title implies, something light. It's a comedy of sophisticated manners, something that frankly doesn't sing real well. Try one of the roof-rattlers like Salome, Elektra and Die Frau ohne Schatten.
By
Andy, at 19/4/05 01:54
Wow!!!1 i luv mexican food! *~*~xxxx~*~*
By
Anonymous, at 19/4/05 10:54
To be honest, I found the cantina a little disappointing: I'm no expert in Mexican cooking, but it struck me as being a little plain, not as spicy as it could have been. That doesn't necessarily mean hot, but something to give it a little more zing.
I had a feeling you'd be one to turn to for advice on Strauss, Andy! My problem wasn't one of not appreciating the quality of the music, rather that it didn't do anything for me. I tend to find him too rich for my tastes.
Ah yes, it's come back to food ...
By
Anthony, at 19/4/05 21:05
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