Acceptance

A while back I posted on the re-printing of the Dodgess' PhD. Needless to say, as this is a modern day PhD, things were not quite straightforward. Faced with a deadline of 18th June to submit hard-bound copies even by the time it was taken out of the box in the UK it needed some attention; it looked like a hungry mouse had nibbled on one copy of the appendix... 


Nonetheless, thanks to a former lodger of mine, two copies were soft bound and handed in. The internal examiner had a look through and was, this time, happy with all the corrections (phew) just the external examiner to go.


After he'd had it two weeks the internal dropped him an email to find out his thoughts. The reply was 'well, see, I've kind of been overseas a little bit, and it's exam time for undergraduates, so frankly I've not even opened it.' We had a similar occurence at the end of last year with the internal examiner, so again we played the Singapore card; the internal wrote back along the lines of 'flights are already booked, and we need her to graduate in July. So all comments within a week.'


And then, a few days later, the email we'd hoped for... 'the external examiner has accepted the corrections'. This caused the Dodgess to shriek, loudly... We happened to be on the phone when she read the email, but I also heard it two second later as the true sound reached our flat from her mother's.


All of this is an enormous relief. When meeting for a quick cup of tea after work yesterday the Dodgess was noticeably happier, and had far more of a srping in her step. As for me, I'm just enormously proud of her. That she managed to complete such a massive piece of work over the past 4 years.

Normality

There are those who, perhaps with a degree of justification, say that no matter how hard I try I can never be normal. I'm just too weird for the term normal to apply to me. Still, following the manicness of rehearsing for Bocelli, or Brahms, or something else in between, I suppose that these last two weeks have, for me, been somewhat normal.

So what does normality actually mean? Well - work is manic. Our project lucrhes from one deadline to the next in a never-ending firefight, trying to stem the flow with, of all things, paper. Mounds and mounds of paper. If we don't think the proposal is decent, gain acceptance by confusion - just submit so much paper that they've forgotten what the overall aim was.

At work I often end up in meetings. Lots and lots of meetings over here. I think work sends me because a lot of the natives don't really understand what I say, particularly if I talk fast. It's more of this gaining acceptance by confusion tactic. They send me, and another ex-Maunsell Brit in, and we talk fast in very English accents. We either get agreement, or, at times mystified silence - which we take as agreement. Only rarely do we get disagreement. When this happens we take advantage of our cultural differences and start swearing - unlike Britain, this is responded to with mystified silence, and we have our agreement. All's well that ends well huh?


Outside of work I help a few people play cello on the odd nights. On the even nights I don't. I go home and consider whether I should do my chartership reports. For the most part, my consideration results in a decline to re-watching DVDs. I live in Region 3 for DVDs now, but my computer plays region 2. I can legally get region 3, and illegally (but quite easily) get region 1. Not all that useful, but at least my student loan went to good use in making sure that I only have to watch each film about once a month. If anyone has any DVDs they don't want, then be sure to let me know.


Weekends I do as little as possible. I rarely succeed in doing little though. The regulare things are laying squash on at least Sunday, and some Saturdays. After which I eat dinner with the Dodgess and her Mum.  The food always varies, but equally always includes fried tofu and fish cake. Not two foods which I ever thought would become such regular features of my diet, but then there are several parts of my life which I never really envisaged, but nonetheless enjoy, not to say love. I usually end up shopping in the equivalent of ASDA - in fact it could even be the equivalent over here. At some point I'll talk about buying food here - even the raw stuff is a different experience to the UK.


So now it's time to make those of you who live in the UK a little jealous. There is the odd evening when I have a bit of time to myself. On these occasions I swim in my flat's pool. It is 30m long, and under the stars, and I often have it to myself. When I have plenty of time, then I end up going for a walk along the beach. It's nice after dark. I can sit on the pier and watch the long haul flights land at Changi airport, or walk down to the Hawker centre and eat kebab sticks and have a nice cool drink.






 

Playing for Bocelli

Last night the Dodgess and I played a concert. Whilst we have performed in the same orchestra about 50 times last night's concert will remain in the memory for quite a while. For a start, we were performing for Singapore's president, his wife, and half his cabinet. Along with these guests of honour were 1000 Singaporeans in person, and a further 10000 around the corner watching on a screen. And probably another 20000 people comprising agents, stage managers, technicians, police... You name it they were there. And we were accompanying a certain Andrea Bocelli, along with some of his 'guest artists'; Delta Goodrem, Sabina Cvilak, and flautist Andrea Griminelli. Conducted by Eugene Kohn, who has worked with anyone who is anyone in opera - Maria Callas, Domingo, Pavorotti, Careras, the Met in New York. You get the picture.


So last night was never really going to 'just another concert'. I have once performed in front of such luminaries before. About 15 years ago I sang for the Queen. That was for the opening of Jesus College Library, and was a very restrained affair - we sang, she walked past, we stopped. We then watched her walk back past us, and the Duke of Edinburgh shook all our hands; we went and had lunch. It was all very peaceful, and mundane somehow.


Last night was not quite as simple. For a start, rather than singing in a nicely climate controlled building, we would be playing outside in Singapore's Botanical Gardens.This means effectively playing in 30 degrees, with perhaps 75% humidity, in full DJ and bow tie. But personal discomfort is only the start of the issues; cello and violin strings go flat in the heat, wind instruments go sharp. 


To add to our troubles, despite 18 hours of rehearsal across the preceding week, we would only meet our soloists the afternoon of the concert, and accompanying 90 minutes of opera arias on 90 minutes of rehearsal doesn't give much time to learn the soloists' interpretations. At least that was the plan. Our 90 minutes of rehearsal turned into a hurried 30 minutes squeezed in as the gates were opening - here's why:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKZRwCqPENQ


The clap of thunder in that should have been about 30 minutes into our rehearsal... at the time the Dodgess and I were about 5 minutes away under the cover of our changing rooms. We also heard the clap of thunder and our reaction was not unlike Delta Goodrem's.


Rehearsal ended 10 minutes before the concert which gave the technicians just enough time to move the microphone suspended under my bridge a bit closer to pick up each innacuracy that little bit better.


The first half is a blur of desperately trying to keep up with the soloists. It wasn't just that we hadn't had the preparation time, it was getting used to playing in the heat, in the humidity, not being able to hear much, the distraction of the tv cameras, and microphones, and lighting that was never constant for more than a second. That and watching how the blind Bocelli managed himself on stage - he doesn't move around much, and has the conductor lead him to position, when he gently nudges forward until he bangs into the microphone with his face. Then he sings - which is fabulous. In the orchestra we are quite lucky as we hear him without amplification. All the speakers are directional and point out so we don't hear ourselves twice - that really would make things a challenge!


The interval was a case of re-hydration. I got through a litre of water in the 5 minutes that we had off stage, probably about half as much as I sweated in the first half. The second half was far more enjoyable. We had grown accustomed to the conditions and the sound and began to relax. The real coup de gras came as we stood up after the final programmed piece - I managed to step on the wire holding my bridge microphone to my cello, and it obligingly fell away - oh to have had the foresight to do that earlier! And it was finally in the encores that I managed to really start to enjoy the music and the playing.


The evening ended with fireworks (which we certainly heard, and certainly didn't see), to which we played the Hallelujah Chorus preceded by, of all things, Jerusalem. These last two works were conducted by Lim Yau, our regular conductor, who moonlights as Resident Conductor of the Singapore Symphony Orchestra. This fleeting appearance was his reward for having prepared The Philharmonic Orchestra over four nights and 12 hours of intensive note bashing. He is rapidly becoming one of my favourite conductors.


As we walked off after the concert I tried, with my cello, suit bag, backpack and the freebie bag  from the organisers (quite a balancing act I can promise) I tried to squeeze past a woman in a very expensive looking green dress. I managed just to avoid taking her out with my cello. It was only as I was about 10 steps ahead of her that I remembered the president's wife had been wearing a very similar green dress. I didn't look back!


Overall, both the Dodgess and I had a great time, and this version of YTL's concert of celebration will always brings fond memories - along with other concerts like Tchaik V in the Liszt Academy in Budapest (incidently the only other concert I've played where I've felt like needing intravenous rehydration at the end), Mahler II in Birmingham Town Hall, Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto II in the school hall (of all unlikely concert successes) or Shostakovitch V under the stars in Tuscany. 


Taking photos wasn't easy - but here's a few:

In case we forgot exactly which concert we were doing.

Thankfully I couldn't see this screen whilst playing - I think I would have gotten quite distracted!

Just before starting, we're just waiting for the president here.

hmmmm - yes - they have got 3 microphones for every single player!

Bocelli after the concert. The guy whose left ear you can see is the sponsor YTL's CEO, and was saying 'this is the best concert ever in Singapore'. Glad to have been of service sir!