You are currently browsing the monthly archive for July 2010.

Just imagine the Queen of Gastroporn coming at you, her melons bobbling.

Advertisements

Red Hot

Professor W.C. “Shithouse” Bain

This pic was taken around 6 p.m. The Professor was in a fairly advanced state of refreshment.

Clive’s Record Shop, Lerwick

It’s time once more for my annual trip to Shetland, sailing from Aberdeen on the M.V. Hrossey Monday night.

I will be staying in Lerwick with my old friend and colleague Professor W.C. “Shithouse” Bain.

So, for a couple of weeks, blogging will not be my number one priority.

There aren’t many ways you can be sure to make yourself feel happy, but there’s one that always seem to work for me. I listen to a piece of music, only a minute and a half long, that was originally written for a music box and then orchestrated. Its unwinding tune is immediately memorable. It is so shimmeringly coloured, so precisely made, so assured in the delivery of its climax that it always leaves my mood effervescent. It is called Two Organa: 1 (a misleadingly academic title), and Oliver Knussen, who wrote it, is one of Britain’s greatest living artists. If you have not heard of him, that is probably due to the fact that he works in the occluded, occasionally airlocked world of contemporary classical music. This is a great shame. His music is instantly likeable, elegant, melancholy and exhilarating.

Knussen conducted his own first symphony at the Proms at the age of 15. As the son of the principal bassist of the LSO, he grew up listening to the inordinate variety of noises an orchestra can make. This education gave him an expertise in combining instruments to produce exactly the right colour and temperature of sound. He writes his jewel-like scores carefully, with great technical rigour, but there remains at the heart of his music an unanxious playfulness. His works are often set in the childhood worlds of toys and storybooks and in that familiar, phantasmal place between waking and sleeping. He is a conductor famed for his perfectionism and generosity, a rare combination, and he is a significant teacher of other composers. His opera Where the Wild Things Are, written in collaboration with Maurice Sendak, is an adaptation of the book and far superior to the recent film.

He is a very recognisable figure, tall and fat with a Victorian thicket of beard. I’ve never tried to tell him how much I love his music when I see him at concerts. I admire him too much. He has added beauty to the world.

(Source: Guardian)

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play
makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no
play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes
Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes
Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

You don’t get many of those to the pound

After Sophie Dahl’s disastrous BBC cookery show earlier this year, it looks like Queen of Gastroporn Nigella Lawson has been called in to save the day. The voluptuous star has been spotted filming her new food show at a grocery shop in St John’s Wood, London. With a basket in hand, filled with vegetables, the 50-year-old brunette looked immaculate and curvy as ever in a flowing black dress, blue top and jacket.

Her new book “Kitchen: Recipes from the Heart of the Home” will be published on 2 September 2010.

Nigella posted a message on her site saying: “Now I’m filming the TV series [to accompany her new book] and having a lot of fun, but it does rather keep me away from my computer and this site. As ever, my book took rather longer than it should have, partly because I did the App in the middle of it, and partly because I kept adding recipes and rejigging things. So, for the past couple of months, I’ve pretty well been shut in my study, slaving over a hot computer. But now the book – a whopping 500 pages of it – is finished and will be out at the beginning of September.

L.H.O.O.Q.

Five decades into his brilliant career as one of the world’s great tenors, Plácido Domingo – now a baritone – is working as hard as ever. Catch him while you can, says Peter Conrad.

Plácido Domingo’s name means Placid Sunday, which is not what he will be enjoying today. He may well sleep until the afternoon, but will make up for that inertia tonight on stage at the Royal Albert Hall, in a BBC Proms performance of the Royal Opera’s production of Verdi’s Simon Boccanegra, he will age half a century, beginning as a swashbuckling corsair and ending – after the lapse of a few decades between the acts – as the elderly, careworn Doge of Genoa, poisoned by a vindictive political crony.

David Fanshawe, who died on July 5 aged 68, was the composer of African Sanctus, an inspirational work that blended the liturgy of the Latin Mass with sounds that he recorded on his travels throughout the continent; since it was first heard in 1972 this thrilling collision of musical cultures has proved to be extraordinarily popular with choral societies and audiences around the world.

R.I.P. David Arthur Fanshawe, composer and musicologist, born 19 April 1942; died 5 July 2010

Black Dogs Defined

This is the best of me; for the rest, I ate, and drank, and slept, loved and hated, like another: my life was as the vapour and is not; but this I saw and knew; this, if anything of mine, is worth your memory.

(John Ruskin, Sesame and Lilies)

Whatever people say I am, that’s what I’m not.

(Alan Sillitoe, Saturday Night and Sunday Morning)

This is my letter to the world, that never wrote to me.

(Emily Dickinson, This is my letter to the world)

Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

(Edna St. Vincent Millay, Second Fig)

R.A.D. Stainforth

I was born before The Beatles’ first LP and brought up in the reeking slums of Jericho. I am in love with a woman called Hazel and in love with her daughter, also called Hazel, both of whom I met at Alcoholics Anonymous.

Follow radstainforth on Twitter
i published work on theblogpaper

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 193 other followers

%d bloggers like this: