An evening in Arcadia
IHAVE just enjoyed a magical outing to the inaugural Grange Festival. I find it almost impossible to sympathise with any of the characters in Bizet’s Carmen, yet the music was wonderful to hear in such an intimate setting and brilliantly performed. As a crowning delight, the weather was beautiful. For the evening, the house and grounds truly looked like a vision of Arcadia.
While I listened to the performance, my mind wandered to recent events at home and the possible outcome of a Grade 1 trombone exam taken that morning. For the past week or so, our neighbours have patiently tolerated intense morning and evening music practice. Probably much more disturbing than the repeated renditions of March to the Top and I am an Elephant, however, have been my own accompanying outbursts of frustration while supervising the practice. I try to be patient and encouraging, but there is a limit to the number of times I can listen to a quaver being rendered as a crochet. Be assured, however, that the player’s responses were often feisty enough to have impressed even Carmen.
Anyway, I hope for everybody’s sake that my outbursts of rage and the examinee’s labours have not been in vain. We wait eagerly for the result. JG