'. . .grandiose, tender, stormy, graceful and explosive'

I started this blog – Each New Day – on September 8, 2015. One of the things I said in my opening post was:

. . .I plan to write here often (I almost said “every day” but that puts a lot of pressure on me) so it’s a way for me to practice self-discipline. I preach self-discipline a lot so it’s good for me to practice what I preach.

I remembered having written something like that so I looked back to get the exact quote.

When I make a commitment to do something – like write every day – I take it very seriously. Of course the commitment is only to myself but that doesn't diminish it. I feel kind of bad if I get up in the morning and I haven't put up a new post the day before. I've become attached to the feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment.

I never run out of subject matter but occasionally, I have a number of posts that want to be written but they require more work, more research, more thinking-through so I put them aside. It's times like that when I go to my archives or do a repeat from this very blog. That works too.

Having said that: we enjoyed a splendid concert this evening with Symphony Nova Scotia and a guest conductor, Jean-Marie Zeitouni.

It was Russian night and featured music by Alexander Borodin, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov and Igor Stravinsky. The highlight though was Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky's Concerto for Piano no. 1 in B-flat minor played by guest artist, André Laplante.

Our program pointed out that if anyone in the auditorium were asked to hum a tune from any piano concerto, chances are they'd come up with the opening bars of this concerto, "one of the most memorable melodies ever composed." It's true, it's very familiar. You could hum along almost throughout.

But no matter how many times you've heard it, nothing could compare with the experience of seeing/hearing a pianist like André Laplante performing it just a few metres away. I could quite literally feel my heartbeat speeding up during certain parts. He projected the intensity that he was feeling as he played.

By turns grandiose, tender, stormy, graceful, and explosive, this masterwork remains one of the best-known and best-loved piano concertos of all time.

It was also considered so difficult when first written that Tchaikovsky eventually made some changes that made it more playable. It's still considered technically challenging. André Laplante did a masterful job so much so that the usually proper Halifax audience applauded after the first movement, unable to restrain itself. (I've only seen that once before during a performance by the irresistible violinist, Giora Schmidt.)

Once again, we were uplifted and educated by an evening of fine music and I enjoyed writing this even though it might have seemed that I was making excuses when I began. Not at all. I was just talking myself into it.

Dressing up, dressing down

We went to a concert this week to celebrate the 150th birthday of Sibelius with Symphony Nova Scotia and guest violinist, Giora Schmidt. It was our third time seeing/hearing Giora and I've informed Symphony NS that we will happily attend every time he comes back to play here.

When we saw him last time, even the sophisticated Halifax audience burst into applause after the first movement of the concerto he was playing and he laughed because it was so spontaneous that the audience clearly couldn't help itself. It happened again this time – applause mid-concerto but no harm done. He's so cheerful and pleasant that it only adds to his performance.

He's a showman too, of course – which is probably partially responsible for the audience reaction – but he's fun. He's the son of two Israeli musicians, was raised in the US and has been playing violin since he was four.

If Ashley is the genius of the fiddle, Giora is the genius of the violin.

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We had a conversation at the concert about the way people dress. It used to be that people would dress up somewhat for a concert but over the years, we've noticed that changing. More people than not nowadays, just wear whatever they had on during the day. In one way, that's rather nice. It's as if they feel comfortable and at home and they dress the same way they would if they were going out to pick up groceries.

Not me though. I'm one of the one who dresses up a bit. I say to myself, "It's the Symphony, for God's sake!" So although I can appreciate the people who take it casually, I like to treat it as if it's special. I dress up a bit for the theatre too. Not for movies, but for live theatre.

It's interesting, I noticed at the theatre that, besides me, the women who were dressed up, were young women – women in their 20s. Giora attracts a young audience and maybe they don't have the same sense of familiarity with their surroundings as their older audience-mates and maybe they think it's proper to dress up. It could also be as simple as the fact that there aren't that many places where people dress up nowadays so it gives them a chance to wear their pretty clothes.

I have some pretty clothes. I saw an article in a magazine not too long ago (yes, at my hair salon) that asked the question: Do you dress appropriately for your age? I didn't read the article but I'm guessing they didn't offer the option, "I have no idea," as an answer. I'll tell you this though: I don't wear old-lady clothes.

But who decides if they're appropriate?

I have a lot of clothes that glitter and sparkle. I have both of these and several in different colours:

I wear them under pretty jackets. This is the sort of thing I would wear:

I have all these – and probably more:

I have nice white blouses – some a little dressier than others:

I usually wear black trousers.

In winter, I wear much the same styles but turtle-neck instead of tank top and maybe a sweater instead of a blouse. The basic style remains the same though.

I have nice jewellery. There are days when I decide I'd like to wear a certain pair of earrings and I build my day's wardrobe around them. It makes getting dressed so easy! I'll come back some day and tell you about my jewellery.