Bach Brought Down to Earth

The final performance of Bach's St Matthew Passion was laid to rest yesterday, Good Friday (not so Good in France, as it is not a holiday and there are no hot cross buns).  This morning the dishwasher still needs stacking, there are hungry mouths to feed, and the washing machine has broken again...JC calls me Castafiore these days.

Bianca Castafiore, the Comic Singing Anti Heroine from Tin Tin who may have esoteric significance

If I were La Castafiore I would definitely have someone in to take care of the dishwasher stacking and the hungry mouths and so forth (my personal assistant Irma, and perhaps a lend of Captain Haddock's butler Norbert) would spend the day reclining on my chaise long being fed grapes by my handsome and admiring beau, re-living past glories, and doing a profound artistico-spiritual analysis of the music.   As it is, this part will have to wait...but in the meantime, some photos of the preparations, the slightly tense moments 'before' (no cameras during).  In summary:  full house, standing ovation, tears and glory...

The Stage is Set

Surly Adolescent, Cheeky pre-adolescent and Proud Father

The offprings took the subject of the Passion (crucifixion) very seriously.  There were strongly encouraged ("forced" in R's words) to come, and felt themselves to be the victims of a similar event, the promise of the forthcoming resurrection did not seem to console them...B sat at the back during the warm-up before the concert, headphones on and nose in a book, utterly unaware of the sound projected in his direction.  His comment after the show was:  nice solo, can we go home now?  R took some photos, but just as the hush descended and the final launch commenced he broke cover, moved seat, appeared to be searching for something (the camera as it turned out), ran along the front row in a bright red top, clambered along the back row disturbing everyone and causing a number of tuts and sshhhss, found his seat was taken and disappeared to the consternation of his mother.   He was discovered by B at the end of the show stretched out on a sofa and gone solid gone, as Baloo would say, although R does claim to have heard my solo before he fell, clearly identifiable by the 'English accent', he says.  All these things have to be overcome when one is an Artiste, and yes we did question whether we should have invited our progeny, but it is a once in a lifetime event and perhaps one day they will look back on it fondly.

Yer archetypal resentful teenager, yes, this is what I live with

JC and I Prepare

R does impromptu performance of Gangnam Style

The first chorists arrive

Our heroic tragi-comic choirmaster

Dreadful, but the only photos we have

Ditto

JC and JC the Pianist who hums as he plays, has a meloncholy  face and a cartoon smile

R decided to take a video of the moment when JC accused me of Losing his Music Lamp and I counter accused him of Having Lost It Himself and it was subsequently Found in the Bag.  How come the only people who ever take photos of me come up under my chin, at my age I need top angles.   Must find some taller companions.