Bernard was kind enough to send me his diary extract, allowing me to publish it here on my blog. (btw - I can attest that Bernard's latest, critically acclaimed book "Midwinter Break" is an enthralling read...)
In the evening I go to a unique
event organized by Francis at the Hamilton Mausoleum. On the way in there is a
thin eyelash moon over the distinctly odd structure. A string quartet with harp
playing his composed music – the same music which has just been issued on CD by
Shoeshine Records. It is fiendishly cold and the audience sit around the
perimeter in overcoats and bobble hats. Almost all of them look up into the
distant dark copula. Escutcheons and bare bummed putti throw strange shadows.
It’s hard to know what you’re looking at. There is concealed lighting in the
vastly tall interior, lighting the stone uprights – undersea green, sky blue,
purple, and broom yellow. On the ground is a design of marble marquetry which
feels upwardly dished when you walk over it. The musicians are playing in their
overcoats. I can see only one musician wearing black fingerless woollen gloves.
Little glimmers of light come from various places. Behind the players four or
five lanterns, other places T lights. The cellist’s breath is visible when he
exhales pastthe downlight of his
music stand. The evening begins with Francis
addressing the audience. His voice demonstrates the echo immediately. He tells
us about what he hopes we are about to hear. When he turns his head away the
sense of his words is lost. They boom into thesurrounding alcoves. He tells us this is close to where he
grew up, where he went to school, where he cycled with his friends as a boy.
When he finishes there is jagged applausefollowed by silence. There is a strange and unexpected sound like a
gurgle. My daughter Ciara has had the foresight to bring, not one, but two hot
water bottles. She passes one to me for under my coat and the silence is
reinstated. The music begins and so does the
controlled reverberation. The notes amplify and echo. They put on sleeves of
themselves and the effect is wonderfully satin. The pace of the music is
stately so that the melodic lines do not cancel or cross over. The bowed
strings are horizontal, the plucked harp vertical. There is a solo piece for
the harp which is magically successful. At the interval Francis tells us
that they aregoing to let us hear
the effect of the echo by banging the huge front door shut. A man in a high viz
yellow jacket opens, then slams the door to. It sounds like a gunshot and goes
on banging around the place for whole seconds ( the circular building once held
the record for the longest echo of any man-made structure). We all feel like
applauding the doorman but nobody does. Everyone strolls about to get their
circulation going. On a ledge I see ten little black woollen teats, then
recognise them as fingers freshly snipped from a pair of gloves.The second half of music broadens
the scope of what we are listening to – one piece is consciously paced so fast
that the notes impishly smudge and grate. I remember the American modernist
composer, Charles Ives, who said to his audiences, ‘Stand up and take your
dissonances like a man.’ The whole evening comes to an end with rattling,
sustained applause. Some whistles and bravos. A few people attempt to clap
still wearing woollen gloves – plump, plump, plump. Others jump to their feet
and stamp, more for reasons of heat than anything else.
One of the amazing things is that everyone leaving the building remarks on how
warm it is outside. All agree that it is a night they
will never forget. Buy the CD. Remind yourself of the music by your own
fireside.
I've been working on music for a thing with brilliant harpist Sharron Griffiths and a string quartet (Justine Watts, Stewart Webster, Emma Connell-Smith and John Davidson) from the Scottish Festival Orchestra.
Unfortunately the planned performance of the suite in Helensburgh on 13th March has had to be cancelled. It was nice to be asked but 'twas not to be. Aww.
In other news I am pitching music for a TV programme, writing music for a feature-length documentary that I can't say anything about and recording music for a secret advert type thing.
But enough about me.
Tracyanne & Danny is a new project from Tracyanne Campbell (Camera Obscura) and Danny Coughlan (Crybaby) - an inspired meeting of musical minds. Their new album "Tracyanne & Danny" was produced by Edwyn Collins and Sean Read. It will be released on Merge on 25th May.
Here's a 1 minute teaser trailer:
And here's a whole song:
And here are the UK tour dates:
And here are the US tour dates:
And here is their website where there are links to pre-order the album + concert tickets and you can join their mailing list:
There. If you can't get a ticket come show time, don't come crying to me. The album is bloody brilliant btw.
What else? Recent films watched (thanks, BAFTA Scotland) = A Fantastic Woman (thumbs up) and Black Panther which let's just say is not going to be mistaken for a fly on the wall documentary.
Whatever you think of awards ceremonies I'm glad The Shape Of Water won at the Oscars. I loved it. Definitely one to watch on a big cinema screen. But then again aren't they all, darling?
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