Confidentiality clauses

I started to write something about the difference between this year's and last year's bookings, but however much it makes for interesting reading, I'm not comfortable with it. It's not the sort of thing which should be divulged in such an open forum as the internet and as it is, I'm hesitant about going into any further detail just in case some enterprising journalist or media pundit should come upon this post. I've long been a victim to a strong code of personal ethics, of which is this just one more example.

No such qualms need assail me about the EIF programme now it's been publicised. Luke sent me a text message on the launch day saying he'd definitely be up this year, which is as good an indication as any that the line-up is manna to the early music enthusiast. Jordi Savall is doing what amounts to a residency, taking in opera (Monteverdi's L'Orfeo), concert performances (more Monteverdi - the 1610 Vespers - and music inspired by Cervantes'Don Quixote) and a solo recital on the viola da gamba. Then there's a whole series of choral music from the 11th to 18th centuries in the spacious acoustic of Greyfriars Kirk, not to mention chamber music of the Italian baroque.

Which is not to say the post-Classical periods are overlooked. Anyone who likes Sibelius' symphonies is well catered for, while continuity is assured by the return of Festival favourites such as Ian Bostridge and Alfred Brendel. For my part, I'm particularly looking forward to seeing Thomas Adès conduct his violin concerto, while others will be delighted by programmes of Strauss and Mahler.

(If I've said nothing about drama, bear in mind music is very much my forte. There's only so much I can tell you about the various adaptations of Greek tragedy, even if one does star Alan Cumming!)

Overall, though, I'd say this year's programme is characterised by a sense of fun. Berstein's Candide and Poulenc's organ concerto bookend the Festival and with anything from the Tiger Lilies' take on Monteverdi and hip-hop dancing to Rameau in between, there's definitely a healthy dose of the joyous (not to say pleasingly bizarre) to look forward to.

Important though it is to give a flavour of what I'm involved with to those who might not otherwise hear of it, that's enough blatant self-promotion, no matter how great my enthusiasm. On to other things.

After Thomas had to pull out of a couple of things we had planned - a concert of American classics and stand-up comedy courtesy of Jo Brand, both very enjoyable - I asked him to make sure he does not get booked up for the couple of days around my birthday. Now we just have to work out what we'll be doing (assuming he's not working on a surprise, which I wouldn't put past him).

On her last visit, Mother brought with her the family set of mah-jong for me to have. It's been a joy rediscovering it, if slightly confusing when it came to the practicalities of playing against others whose rules differ slightly, all the more so when there are complete novices involved. Still, it's good to introduce new players to such a good game, though I'm well aware that as the days get longer, the potential for games nights is rather reduced, so it may not see the light of day again for a while.

In the meantime, it's the Easter weekend and I've a fair amount of singing to do. As far as the Church is concerned, Lenten music beats the rest of the year hands down - from Ash Wednesday, things get darker and darker aside from a brief respite on Palm Sunday, and suddenly light bursts forth on Easter Day. Christmas may have usurped Easter as the feastday in the public consciousness, but there's no doubting the steady build-up of good cheer over Advent is no competition for the sheer drama afforded by Lent.