Dixit
Dominus. Dixit Dominus. Dixit Dominus. A-men. A-men. A-a-a-a-a-a-a-men. Amen. A-a-a-men. Amen. Amen.
Thus, Mozart can fill 56 pages of score. So can Vivaldi.
It was a wonderful experience. Acoustics were great. Music was beautiful. We sang pretty okay I think (although at one moment I noticed I was exactly one beat ahead of the other sixty singers). Conductor charming&funny as usual. The white shirt I bought in a moment of despair, at some awful shop where they didn't even have changing rooms, actually turned out better on me than on the "clotheshorse" (is that an ordinary word to use?) - which is a rare phenomenon. From an unfashionable flowery middle/old-aged woman shirt it has canged into a handsome, silk, kinda' Latin shirt...
After this purchase I found I had done enough concessions to gender-affirmative choir-prescriptions and decided to leave the "long black skirt" for the long-black-skirt-minded. And wel heb je ooit if I wasn't the only woman in trousers, with the exception of one female tenor who had to wear a suit to mask her gender...
Anyway: back to the wonderful experience: the church we sang in, Saint Michael and all Angels, was an impressive (neo)gothic space, with immense dark ceilings and, indeed, sculpted angels everywhere. Apart from us, we got to listen to the University Orchestra playing Corelli's Christmas concert! (Well, hurrah, doesn't that sound familiar to some of us? Oh, where are the days that we gathered in an Amsterdam South church to experience the joy of making music on strings and performing such Great Art before a willing audience etc. etc.?). It was magnificent.
In the queue for the toilet I had the dubious privilege of meeting the president of ChapSoc. He told me he was, but I could have known, for 1) he wears whiskers; 2) his opening sentence was "Wouldn't mind a bit less rain" (it had been raining); 3) he was in the same formal costume as the orchestra-members, but on the question what instrument he plays, he answered: "Not any, but I'm a Chap and today is Dress-up Friday. For those fortunate souls who haven't figured out yet what ChapSoc(iety) is (I guess that would make all of you): it's the club of students who purport to promote the return of politeness into British society - but I suspect the crux of the matter is that they are Dickens-nostalgians deploring the fall of the Empire.
And, last but not least: I met a new group of friends which provided me with yet another Christmas party invitation!
Three other random Things of Today:
1) We got reservations for the Twelfth Night matinee tomorrow!
2) Misoandry today in History of Sexuality got really embarrassing: fifteen girls whining about patriarchal discourse (how "men" would expect them to serve, care, live for them and are only concerned of their own positive self-conception (i.e. the anxiety for their 'masculinity', whatever that means nowadays)) in the magazines and books they buy and read and write (men generally find them either uninteresting or questionable). The one (!) boy in class didn't dare to open his mouth for the rest of the seminar. Maybe I should write a thesis about how in the modern western world patriarchy (which, I agree, still exists) is maintained primarily by (a specific group of) women, not men.
3) Got as many as two true Proust-experiences: the foyer of our Great Hall smelled exactly like my pre-previous grandmother's house, while the porch of the church smelled like her cellar. Unfortunately I didn't have the same time to my disposal as had Proust, to dwell on the associated memories. Still, it reminds me to tell you this: after you've read Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass, read À la recherche du temps perdu (translations allowed ;-)!
Thus, Mozart can fill 56 pages of score. So can Vivaldi.
It was a wonderful experience. Acoustics were great. Music was beautiful. We sang pretty okay I think (although at one moment I noticed I was exactly one beat ahead of the other sixty singers). Conductor charming&funny as usual. The white shirt I bought in a moment of despair, at some awful shop where they didn't even have changing rooms, actually turned out better on me than on the "clotheshorse" (is that an ordinary word to use?) - which is a rare phenomenon. From an unfashionable flowery middle/old-aged woman shirt it has canged into a handsome, silk, kinda' Latin shirt...
After this purchase I found I had done enough concessions to gender-affirmative choir-prescriptions and decided to leave the "long black skirt" for the long-black-skirt-minded. And wel heb je ooit if I wasn't the only woman in trousers, with the exception of one female tenor who had to wear a suit to mask her gender...
Anyway: back to the wonderful experience: the church we sang in, Saint Michael and all Angels, was an impressive (neo)gothic space, with immense dark ceilings and, indeed, sculpted angels everywhere. Apart from us, we got to listen to the University Orchestra playing Corelli's Christmas concert! (Well, hurrah, doesn't that sound familiar to some of us? Oh, where are the days that we gathered in an Amsterdam South church to experience the joy of making music on strings and performing such Great Art before a willing audience etc. etc.?). It was magnificent.
In the queue for the toilet I had the dubious privilege of meeting the president of ChapSoc. He told me he was, but I could have known, for 1) he wears whiskers; 2) his opening sentence was "Wouldn't mind a bit less rain" (it had been raining); 3) he was in the same formal costume as the orchestra-members, but on the question what instrument he plays, he answered: "Not any, but I'm a Chap and today is Dress-up Friday. For those fortunate souls who haven't figured out yet what ChapSoc(iety) is (I guess that would make all of you): it's the club of students who purport to promote the return of politeness into British society - but I suspect the crux of the matter is that they are Dickens-nostalgians deploring the fall of the Empire.
And, last but not least: I met a new group of friends which provided me with yet another Christmas party invitation!
Three other random Things of Today:
1) We got reservations for the Twelfth Night matinee tomorrow!
2) Misoandry today in History of Sexuality got really embarrassing: fifteen girls whining about patriarchal discourse (how "men" would expect them to serve, care, live for them and are only concerned of their own positive self-conception (i.e. the anxiety for their 'masculinity', whatever that means nowadays)) in the magazines and books they buy and read and write (men generally find them either uninteresting or questionable). The one (!) boy in class didn't dare to open his mouth for the rest of the seminar. Maybe I should write a thesis about how in the modern western world patriarchy (which, I agree, still exists) is maintained primarily by (a specific group of) women, not men.
3) Got as many as two true Proust-experiences: the foyer of our Great Hall smelled exactly like my pre-previous grandmother's house, while the porch of the church smelled like her cellar. Unfortunately I didn't have the same time to my disposal as had Proust, to dwell on the associated memories. Still, it reminds me to tell you this: after you've read Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass, read À la recherche du temps perdu (translations allowed ;-)!
posted by Anna P.H. Geurts | 12:39 am
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