Nimble Tread

Cogs and Widgets

Honda have managed to outdo their incredible Choir ad with this commercial for the Accord.  It is the most impressive real-world example of a Rube Goldberg machine I've come across -- though I'm sure there's a cadre of Rube nuts out there who've come up with more oppulent systems -- and according to what I've read about this ad, it was done entirely in real time and without special effects.  It also cost $6 million to produce and took a whopping 606 takes to pull off to satisfaction.  But what would I do with a car in London?

Juliet and Her Romeo

Alina Cojocaru and Johan Kobborg were sensational last night in the Royal Ballet's latest production of Kenneth MacMillan's Romeo & Juliet.  They were both in remarkably fine form, especially Alina, who not only danced with her customary finesse, but acted as well as I've seen.   There's probably no sense in going over details as it wasn't a new production, but I will say that the crypt scene, in which the couple's tragedy is, alas, sealed, is perhaps the greatest balletic interpretation of a theatrical text in the whole of the repertoire.  It isn't easy to match Shakespeare where expressiveness is concerned, especially without words, but when Kobborg hoists a limp Cojocaru -- who was floppy as a ragdoll -- off the floor and into his arms, and then proceeds to yank her through their Act I pas de deux, all the while beside himself with grief, anybody paying attention will have seen that there are circumstances in which words are superfluous.

Fanciullae del Net

Oh dear.  Someone has a bit too much time on his hands, and apparently an unconditional attraction to noteworthy female musicians.  This is something I never thought I'd see.

Tra la la

Spring has sprung, and three songbirds are alighting upon the Wigmore stage tonight to mark the occasion with a mixed buffet of Bennett (who'll be at the piano), Poulenc, and Fauré.  They are, ladies first, Claire Martin, Sophie Daneman, and Jonathan Lemalu, who hardly stole the day when he was at Covent Garden singing La Fanciulla.  Still, the programme looks good, and I think it ought to be a good show.  I won't be able to make it, but I hope to find someone in my network of spies who'll deliver a full report. 

The Help Department

The mailbag here at Nimble Tread has become swamped with letters from far and wide, each of which is as precious as a dew drop at dawn, and utterly deserving of reply.   Accordingly, I'm establishing a new department here in my corner of the blõgösphère to give voice to the more noteworthy submissions.  Mitchell R., from Las Vegas, New Mexico, gets the ball rolling:

Dear Sir,
  I’ve recently happened upon J.S. Bach’s composition The Well-Tempered Klavier, and have become significantly enamoured with it.  I went to my local music store to buy a recording of the piece and was told that there are, in fact, forty-eight bodies of music contained under the umbrella of the title, and divided into two books.  This has troubled me greatly.  I’m something of an amateur historian, and can’t for the life of me figure out which daring klavier of the ages is deserving of so much of Bach’s attention in general, and two books devoted to him in particular.  Also, I’m at a bit of a loss as to how someone in that line of work could possibly be well-tempered.  Any light shed on the subject would be most appreciated.
Thank you in advance,
Mitchell Rainier
Las Vegas, NM

Dear Mitchell,
  I see your point, though I wonder what you call the family of instruments to which the harpsichord belongs.  Still, a visit to your local instrument shop ought to clear up the matter in one way or the other: you’ll either find yourself surrounded by a brace of cavaliers and delight in the fact that chivalry isn’t yet dead, or you might hear something that will convince you that the klavier is indeed worthy of Bach’s attentions.  As far as the well-tempered portion of your question goes, I don’t see how a particular line of work could preclude someone from embracing a level disposition.  After all, a balanced outlook will always help in navigating life, and will doubtless make it easier for you to cope with the fact that no system, however well intentioned, is perfect – and that includes fifths.
M.

Jazz Notes From Abroad

I'm in the midst of a whirlwind tour of the Northeast Corridor here in these United States of America, but thought I should post a recommendation for my readers back in Jolly Ol'.  Moreno, who visited London for the first time last year with his lovely wife, Marina, will be returning to the city on April 2nd for a concert at Le Quecumbar, on Battersea High Street.  He's certainly one of the finest manouche guitarists on wheels, and clearly gets his jollies from playing at or above Mach III, which he does with terrific elan and fluidity, all the while holding a cigarette, and looking as calm as a Tibetan cow.  For a preview of what might come, feel free to read my spiel about his 2005 gig, which can be found here.

Aaaargh!

I just got my lastest shipment of Barbican tickets in the mail -- for the Great Performers Series, which is, in fact, mind-bogglingly fantastic -- and in tucking them away for safekeeping, happened upon a boodle of unused tickets for concerts that have sadly come and gone.  This discovery did not provoke feelings of rapture and delight.  Fortunately one ticket remains unused, but as luck would have it, I'll be in the States and won't be able to make use of it.  I guess Maurizio Pollini will have to make do without me in attendance.  I was going to leave the matter to a friendly competition here at Nimble Tread, but didn't have the time to come up with a question that couldn't be answered by doing a Google search.  Accordingly, I've given the ticket to my neighbour, which seemed like the right thing to do.

Recap

With the Royal Academy's Paganini in London affair at a close, I thought I'd jot down a few favourites.  I do this mostly for my own benefit, by which I mean there's virtually no way I'll remember what I liked best in a couple of weeks' time, and the internet seems a handy solution to my memory problem.  So, in chronological order:

• Aya Sanada's rendition of Paganini's Caprice No. 24, which was played wonderfully
• Violinist Shulah Oliver and harpist Isobel White playing Kreutzer's Notturno for violin and harp, which offered a seldom-heard instrumental pairing, and a particular example of which I'd never heard before
• Joe Zeitlin and Jiri Slavik giving Dragonetti's Duo for cello and double bass a whirl
• Harpist Angharad Wyn Jones playing Mikhael Mchedelov's Variations on a Theme of Paganini in as remarkable a fashion as I can imagine, rendering a virtuoso piece into a beautifully lyrical bit of music
• Qian Wu and Tadashi Imai doing a terrific job with Paganini's I Palpiti
• The Academy Concert Orchestra performing Liszt's Totentanz, with Trang Trinh on the piano -- their performance was a touch reserved, but the piece is so wonderful I didn't really mind.  It occurred to me that Simon Trpceski would be a terrific choice as piano soloist should any of the pro orchestras decide to add Totentanz to their programme.
• Maurice Hasson and Nicola Eimer delivering an absolutely brilliant performance of Franck's Violin Sonata in A major for violin and piano, which the composer penned, in 1886, as a wedding gift for Eugene Ysaye, himself a reasonably fine composer, whose Rêve d'Enfant kept popping into my head as I listened to Franck's piece. 

• Tchaikovsky's enchanting Sextet "Souvenir de Florence," one of my favourites, played by Clio Gould, Dominika Rosiek, Paul Silverthorne, Yuko Inoue, Jonathan Deakin, and Louisa Tuck in as convincing a fashion as one would care to hear.  Parts of the sextet remind me of bits and pieces of Beethoven's late string quartets, especially Op. 132, and this group of professors, students, and Clio Gould managed to buttress that connection. 

All in all, I had a high ol' time.  I went to eight or nine concerts, came across some new pieces, got to know a few enthusiastic young musicians, and only had to shell out twelve pounds total for the privelege -- and that included two quid for the programme.  Now if only there were some way to replicate that formula at the Royal Festival Hall and the Barbican, and still pay the musicians and staff what they just deserve, we'd be in good shape.