'Tis the season

[pallas_athena]

speedlime's visit is something I look forward to every year. It's typical of her magnificent generosity of soul that she chooses to spend her birthday in London with yours truly. (And then I generally spend mine with her family in DC. The German cookies and Glühwein make it a party not to be missed.)

This year we also spent a few days in Paris. While we were there, it snowed, making the whole city look like an especially misty Monet painting. It was beautiful, but also meant that some places we wanted to see were closed. Paris deals with snow even less well than London: it's like the whole city goes Ô MON DIEU QUOI LE FOUTRE IL NEIGE NOUS DEVONS FERMER TOUTES LES CHOSES INTÉRESSANTES.

One of the these places was the Sainte-Chapelle. I'd never seen it, but Speedy recalled being entranced by the windows as a child. Since we couldn't see it during the day, we booked tickets for a concert there that evening: Baroque flourishes, including Pachelbel's Canon in D and Vivaldi's Four Seasons.

If you live in a city like London, you know that a concert of overdone Baroque chestnuts in a tourist-filled church is unlikely to be life-changing. What you usually get is a scratch band of players who've had one unenthusiastic rehearsal headed by a soloist with more ego than talent. They'll all know the pieces really well, of course, because they've played them a million times; but no one will be watching the leader, so they'll be disunited with little attention to dynamics and only a cursory attempt at tuning. I was fully prepared to suffer through another one of these when the Orchestre Classik took the stage. It was a small band: two violins, viola, cello and harpsichord, plus their soloist and leader, David Braccini.

I should add at this point that the Sainte-Chapelle was freezing. We're talking see-your-breath-indoors cold. There were blankets thoughtfully left on every seat, which were still no help. In coats, hats and gloves we still couldn't feel our fingers or toes. It was fuck-off cold in every sense of the word.

So when I tell you that pretty much everyone in the audience stayed until the end, you will understand that Orchestre Classik and Mr Braccini are no ordinary musicians. Their playing had unity, beauty, spirit and fire. They were absolutely together as an ensemble, and Braccini rallied them against the cold. As well as a fantastic soloist, he seemed to be a very giving leader.

They did suffer slightly from "Hurrah, we're playing twiceasfastasusual because we're cool and edgy" syndrome, but they had the virtuosity for the fast passages. It was definitely the most enjoyable "Four Seasons" I've ever heard. I think Vivaldi would have been pleased with them.

Music made in arduous conditions often has something extra. That's something I must remember as I move forward with my Winterreise.

Meanwhile, I'm heading back to the US tomorrow. See some of you (including speedlime) there!

Comments

[fracture242.livejournal.com]

It was good to see her at least once while she was here - you two make a great team (and not just in the kitchen!) Have a safe journey love, and see you when you get back.

[captrenault.livejournal.com]

The windows of Sainte-Chapelle are one thing, but what got me were the floors, those giant multi-coloured terracotta tiles. They made them, they were spectacular, and then the technology to make them was lost for centuries.

I think they figured them out again now, but just the whole idea of lost medieval technology fascinated me.

Did you make it into any other parts of the Conciergerie? The Hall of Guards? Marie Antoinette's cell?

[laughingmagpie.livejournal.com]

Oddly, I think it's because I'm a Canadian and come from a place that has mastered central heating, that I am SHOCKED AND APPALLED that you could see your breath indoors ;-)

However, that does make it seem like a particularly romantic and ancient sort of experience.