... I'm off to spend a few days with my mum in Kent. A peaceful lunch out tomorrow, a peaceful Good Friday walk in the countryside; then probably gardening and cooking proper home-made hot cross buns on Saturday, eating them on Sunday, another healthy walk on Monday... Peace and quiet and open air, in the springtime, in my mother's garden. Bliss.
Last night I was at a tremendous performance of Debussy's "Pelléas et Mélisande" at the Barbican. Favourite Baritone was on stunning form and the rest of the cast were also terrific, especially the small parts and Laurant Naouri's deeply intense and quietly terrifying Golaud. I started off thinking quite calmly and intellectually "ah, this beautiful music, those delicate scintillating sounds, ooh the strings..." and was gradually, inexorably swept up into a semi-stifled, rapt tension that left me shaking. Wonderful (& such a relief that it was a concert performance and so not buried under directorial concepts).
FB has been in the wars again, though; it appears he's broken his left (dominant) arm for the second time in less than ten years. Poor, silly chap, he is an accident-prone numpty - but his voice and his artistry are still second-to-none.
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