Memorable Magdalene's Day

This morning, Bishop June Osborne was being enthroned in Llandaff Cathedral, and remembering her with thanksgiving prayer was a duty happily done. Later, it was good to see photos on social media and quotes from her address. I'd really like to read the whole thing, but haven't been able to find it on-line so far. It's great that she chose the Feast of St Mary Magdalene, Apostle to the Apostles for this landmark occasion in Llandaff diocesan history. Celebration of Mary Magdalene's feast day disappeared from the Book of Common Prayer in 1552, only to reappear in subsequent 19th and 20th century revisions across the Anglican Communion. Recently the Pope has upgraded the festive status of Mary Madgalene to the same rank as that of the Apostles, and the Roman Church has adopted her Orthodox title 'Apostle to the Apostles'. About time too, and the same about the ministry and leadership of women in the church. 'In Christ there is no male nor female'. Funny how that has been ignored for so long.

I was amused to see that a small group of fans camped on the pavement overnight outside the Plaza de Toros, in anticipation of this evening's concert by Vanessa Martin. I wondered where they came from for this ordeal, and why. It's something I've seen often enough outside the Cardiff Motorpoint Arena before a celebrity gig, and it's hard to see the point of it. From mid morning, the sound and stage crew were in evidence, along with some members of the band, testing and balancing their equipment. Occasionally there's be a burst of song, whether live or rehearsed, it was hard to tell. It was just loud. By the time I went for a walk around town, the fast food stalls were setting up to feed people queuing to be let in.

I walked to the far side of the old town, and took some photographs of the barrio where the church of Nuestra Señora de la Peña is located, closest to the Rio Guadalmedina (which our guide at the Flamenco Museum told me means 'City River' in Arabic. What's left of the northern aspect of the mediaeval town wall is in the sector also. In this barrio there's an interesting number of modern buildings, discrete, minimalist in their appearance, some apartments, others business or artistic workshops by the looks of it. Some remaining older tenement buildings are ripe for renovation, some being worked on to retain the facades and make entirely new interiors.

It's as if there's an architectural debate going on about here what can be done to make something different of a decaying area. There are some striking contrasts between plain modern facades and those which are a century or two older. It's different from the nearby Lagunas barrio where a rearguard action seems to be taking place between grass roots conservationists and enterprising modernisers.. Well, that's my impression. How it all holds together in the grand city centre plan I have no idea. So much depends on who owns what, and who in power can be persuaded to do what.

On this excursion, I took some photos of the Interactive Music and Flamenco Museums that I failed to get on the day we visited them. Before returning to the apartment, I walked up the Gibralfaro to the mirador to get a few photos of stage arrangements in the Plaza de Toros. The music was audible loud and clear from on high. Concert goers were filing into the arena to grab their places as I called in at SuperSol for a few last minute weekend purchases.

I noticed in the arena bull-pen a couple of dozen back-clad security officials assembled for a briefing before the action started. At this point, all was quiet, preparations concluded. Shortly after sunset the support band struck up. An hour later the main act began. It wasn't as loud as the Queen concert, and it was only as loud as anticipated, until just after midnight, when the volume was turned down. Soon after this, it was all over, and by then I was nearly asleep, thankfully.

The irritating part for me was that the star singer wasn't, to my ear, pitch accurate against the backing band. This could be due to the acoustic impact of being in a circular building framed by tower blocs affecting the sound emanating from the building, as opposed to what's heard on stage. But, it's not unusual at really loud concerts, or in a studio setting, where performers can hear each other is through ear pieces, channelling their microphone output through a mixing desk. It's a distressing experience for a performer to listen to a recording of themselves in these conditions after the event. Anyway, glad it's all over now. It could have been worse.

Twilight concert delight

Another hot day today, spent lying low until early evening, when I went to St George's to help with the preparations for the evening's piano recital by Thomas Kaurich, held outdoors on the patio in front of the building. It was mainly a question of setting up tables and laying out rows of chairs. Thankfully, the sun sinks behind the Gibralfaro fairly early, making it possible for the specialist piano transporter to bring in his van - a tight squeeze on the narrow path up the hill to the church - and then unload from the van and assemble a Steinway baby grand paino single-handedly. It was a remarkable feat of skill, as it weighs several hundred kilos.

There were about fifty people for the concert, not quite as many as had been hoped for. Something was amiss with the advance publicity apparently. Thomas played with passion and sensitivity works by Beethoven, Schumann and Chopin. Some I was familiar with, others not. Earlier in life, Thomas was a recitalist on the world touring circuit. Then he went into the organisation and management side of the music business. Then seven years ago he and his partner decided on a change of career direction for them both and took on a guest house in the mountains beyond Velez-Malaga. Now he's returned to giving piano recitals as well, much to everyone's delight. He was very well received.

Sitting in the fragrant churchyard garden at twilight, with blackbirds singing in the background, and little evidence of traffic on the road nearby was a sublime setting for listening to great classical romantic music. Just imagine, Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, one piece everyone present will have known, as darkness descends. Sadly the moon is one the wane and had not yet appeared in the sky, in apparently in the past there have been full moon concert nights at St George's. What an asset! I'd love to see a small but intimate festival in this setting - several nights of lieder singing, string quartets, wind ensemble, piano and harpsichord music. It would need a small team of professionals to run. I've seen how much hard work went into this event by a handful of church members. One can but dream.