Scents and Impressions

I walked down the stairs the other day 

and thought I smelled Jordan Almonds

which for some reason 

reminded me of my Mother. 

Driving down the street yesterday 

suddenly I smelled Licorice. 

Driving back again later

I smelled the Licorice again.

In the same place.

In Jo Nesbo's 

The Redeemer

the bad guy takes 

"a sip of the whiskey.

It tasted of hospital and ashes."

Through my closed apartment door

I thought I heard 

a Gamelan Orchestra.

It's really not surprising when you think about it.

 It was 

Ivan Morevac 

performing 

Debussy's 

Cloches a travers les feuilles.

A Last Hurrah

Welcome back Dear Readers,

Dear Friends.

Here in the Washington D.C. area

I've noticed that a few leaves have begun to turn

& 

that with the cooling overnight temperatures

the volume of my beloved,

mesmerizing cicadas

has diminished. 

It seems that Summer 

is coming to an end.

Could this be the perfect time

for one 

 Last Hurrah?

Many years ago,

when I was a student in Copenhagen,

I studied

Danish Art History.

It was there that I learned about 

the artists' haven 

Skagen.

Here's how the Art Directory described 

The Skagen School.

Skagen Painters

"Skagen is the name of a small fishing village in Denmark. Toward the end of the 19th century, several artists, the Skagen painters, made up a group of "plein air" painters who observed nature realistically, based on the model of the Barbizon school. Thematically, the artists adapted to the local occurrences of Skagen, which were also very well suited to outdoor painting. At Skagen, the North Sea meets the Baltic, so the Skagen painters worked accordingly with the play of the waves, which break against each other there, as well as with the light reflections on the water. In the same way, they observed the people at work or children playing on the beach. In particular, the bright Nordic light fascinated the painters and constitutes the particular charm of their paintings. As later Impressionists, they colored their shadows, and they also implemented complementary contrasts in order to intensify the luminosity of the colors. However, the Skagen painters did not only represent outdoor scenes in their work; interior settings are also permeated with light, which dominates these scenes as well.

The Skagen painters met regularly in a hotel that belonged to the father of one of the group members, Anna Ancher, in order to exchange ideas. Here they also established their own museum, the Skagen Museum.

The Skagen painters were: Michael and Anna Ancher, Viggo Johansen, P.S Krøyer, Marie Krøyer, Christian Krohg, Karl Locher, Karl Madsen, Lauritz Tuxen."

I've wanted to visit Skagen ever since I learned about it.

So this week is the time!


Drive around 300 miles from Copenhagen

and you can watch

The North Sea

crashing into

The Baltic.

The sunsets

are supposed to be spectacular

as well.


For this

Last Hurrah,

I'd stroll and bike the beaches.

I'd visit

The Skagen Museum.

I would bask in the surf & the fresh sea air.

I might even revel in the fruits of the sea.


How does dinner at

Skagen Fiskerestaurant

sound?

Cremant de Bourgogne Rose

Dune-Smoked Salmon
with horseradish cream and pickled shallots
accompanied by herb salad

Grilled Turbot
with flambeed Norwegian Lobster,
tomato concasse and new potatoes

Chocolate Fondant
with Blackcurrent Sorbet and Coulis

Piston Coffee


Just thinking about all of this,

I am intoxicated

by the sea air.


And I am hoping that you will

join me on

one

Last Hurrah.

Old Friends, New Friends - Come Down In Time

The other day a friend asked me

what my favorite rock tune was

from long ago. 

After telling her that that was impossible to answer

since I love so many different tunes,

Come Down In Time

did come to mind.

Such a stunning tune from 

the then young Elton John.

I love Skaila Kanga's harp playing.

Karl Jenkins' oboe.

And there's beautiful acoustic bass playing by Chris Laurence,

as well as sweeping strings.

Tumbleweed Connection,

John's third recording,

is very, very good. 

If you've never heard it you must!

If it's been a while, 

take the time to revisit this gem. 

"In the quiet silent seconds I turned off the light switch

And I came down to meet you in the half light the moon left

While a cluster of night jars sang some songs out of tune

A mantle of bright light shone down from a room

Come down in time I still hear her say

So clear in my ear like it was today

Come down in time was the message she gave

Come down in time and I'll meet you half way

Well I don't know if I should have heard her as yet

But a true love like hers is a hard love to get

And I've walked most all the way and I ain't heard her call

And I'm getting to thinking if she's coming at all

Come down in time I still hear her say

So clear in my ear like it was today

Come down in time was the message she gave

Come down in time and I'll meet you half way

There are women and women and some hold you tight

While some leave you counting the stars in the night."

Do you have any favorite tunes from the past?

A Tale of Two Charles' Part II.

Welcome back Dear Readers,

Dear Friends.

Our 

Tale of Two Charles' Part II.

starts a long time ago in Paris.

On August 7th 1934

a 67 year old composer 

attended the cinema. 

It was there that he first 

caught a glimpse of 

the very lovely actress

Lilian Harvey.

Charles Koechlin,

enamored of cinema and many of its' stars

had sought refuge from some of life's difficulties

in these

"unreal worlds".

Who knows

what he might have felt

seeing this beautiful, young actress

for the first time?


Was he in love?


Merely smitten?

We do know that Koechlin

went to see Harvey in that film again the same night.


Following the film,

he wrote the music of

Tout va bien.


"not without covering the paper with tears"

he later confessed.

Later he added another song

Keep that schoolgirl complexion


which was a pastiche of a Palmolive soap advertisement.


These two songs formed the basis of a cycle he called

L'Album de Lilian.

Koechlin had studied with Massenet

and with Faure who had a particularly strong influence

on him.


His music is as beautiful as Atget's Paris,

as lovely as Lilian.


L'Album de Lilian 

is written primarily for piano, voice, and flute,

with parts for the exotic Ondes Martenot

and Clavecin.


I believe that this was my first introduction to Koechlin's works.


A very good place for anyone to start.


Koechlin wrote piano music.

I've enjoyed his L'Ancienne Maison de Campagne,
Quatre Nouvelles Sonatines, Paysages et Marines, 
and
Les Heures Persanes.


His music for flute, including a version of L'Album de Lilian, is also quite nice.

He wrote songs, for the oboe, quartets, and symphonic works as well.


Koechlin's music is often dreamy but with a dash of chromatic

obliqueness.

That is to say... he throws in a thorn or two now and again.


Like Charles Tomlinson Griffes

who interpreted

The White Peacock,


Koechlin wrote a symphonic interpretation

of The Jungle Book.


And as further evidence of his obsession with Hollywood,

Koechlin wrote

The Seven Stars Symphony


with parts for

Douglas Fairbanks

Lilian Harvey

Garbo

Clara Bow

Marlene Dietrich

Emil Jannings

and the great
Charlie Chaplin.


I have loved the music of

Charles Tomlinson Griffes

and

Charles Koechlin,

my

Two Charles',

for many years.


There is much to love.

And I hope that you too will take the time explore their

varied and colorful works.


You'll be glad you did. 

"Well You Needn't" - A Tale of Two Charles' Part I

From “Sospiri Di Roma.” III. The White Peacock
William Sharp (1855–1905)
HERE where the sunlight
Floodeth the garden,
Where the pomegranate
Reareth its glory
Of gorgeous blossom;	5
Where the oleanders
Dream through the noontides;
And, like surf o’ the sea
Round cliffs of basalt,
The thick magnolias	10
In billowy masses
Front the sombre green of the ilexes:
Here where the heat lies
Pale blue in the hollows,
Where blue are the shadows	15
On the fronds of the cactus,
Where pale blue the gleaming
Of fir and cypress,
With the cones upon them
Amber or glowing	20
With virgin gold:
Here where the honey-flower
Makes the heat fragrant,
As though from the gardens
Of Gulistân,	25
Where the bulbul singeth
Though a mist of roses,
A breath were borne:
Here where the dream-flowers,
The cream-white poppies	30
Silently waver,
And where the Scirocco,
Faint in the hollows,
Foldeth his soft white wings in the sunlight,
And lieth sleeping	35
Deep in the heart of
A sea of white violets:
Here, as the breath, as the soul of this beauty
Moveth in silence, and dreamlike, and slowly,
White as a snow-drift in mountain valleys	40
When softly upon it the gold light lingers:
White as the foam o’ the sea that is driven
O’er billows of azure agleam with sun-yellow:
Cream-white and soft as the breasts of a girl,
Moves the White Peacock, as though through the noon-tide	45
A dream of the moonlight were real for a moment.
Dim on the beautiful fan that he spreadeth,
Foldeth and spreadeth abroad in the sunlight,
Dim on the cream-white are blue adumbrations,
Shadows so pale in their delicate blueness	50
That visions they seem as of vanishing violets,
The fragrant white violets veinéd with azure,
Pale, pale as the breath of blue smoke in far woodlands.
Here, as the breath, as the soul of this beauty,
White as a cloud through the heats of the noontide	55
Moves the White Peacock.
If you've ever wondered what a poem  as beautiful as  The White Peacock  might sound like, you're in luck.  One of my favorite composers,  a composer whose works we do not hear  enough of,  set this stunning piece to music  in 1915. Charles Tomlinson Griffes' works make me think of a dreamy  American Impressionism.  His settings of William Sharp's The Roman Sketches The White Peacock Nightfall The Fountains of the Acqua Paola Clouds could not be more beautiful.  Sadly, they are rarely performed. James Tocco's performances of Griffes' works are wonderful. As I consider the upcoming concert season I am thrilled that there's Mahler, Messiaen, and more... but I do wish that we'd have  the opportunity to hear Mompou, Sorabji, Griffes, and the other Charles once in a while. Stay tuned for Part II.

Condimento

Good Day all. 

Welcome back

& 

nice to see you again. 

If you are like me,

you probably like things that make 

your life easier. 

Things that make your life

more colorful

& tasty. 

Something like this

Condimento - 


a substance or mixture prepared food, often preserved or fermented (usually a liquid) that is added in relatively small amounts to foods...
(Wiki)


I like to pick up cilantro

and process it with onion, garlic, jalapeno,

lime juice, olive oil,

salt & pepper.


I place this in a jar

and when the time comes,

allow it to enhance many foods.


Add some to mashed avocado for guacamole.

Slather some on chicken breasts  or a tuna steak and simply grill.

Whip together a traditional or mango salsa with this and swoon.

Use this like a pesto,

folding it into some pasta with grilled summer vegetables,

 and voila!


A more colorful & tasty world?!


You betcha!


Pretty easy.

A Menu of Literary Delight

I just finished reading Rose Tremain's

award-winning 

The Road Home 

and enjoyed it very much. 

It tells the story 

of a middle aged 

Ukrainian widower named Lev 

who leaves his homeland 

seeking a new life in the UK. 

Lev lands in London

where he works his way up 

from dishwasher

to chef. 

The whole book was wonderful.

At one point, Lev is working

with the aid of a young assistant, 

cooking for a group 

in an old folks home. 

He's using great ingredients

and recipes he's come across

while working in other restaurants. 

Having created the new menu,

Lev hands it over to Simone,

 his young "native speaking" assistant 

so she can write it out and have it printed up for the residents. 

Here's what they came up with:

YOUR MENU FOR WEDNESDAY

Wickedly lovely free-range chicken breasts

stuffed with mushrooms, shallots, and herbs,

served with a totally brilliant jus

or

Chef's fantastic fish gratin with

zero bones and non-crap crumb

and

Choice of non-frozen broccoli or beans,

or both if you want

Creme brulee jacked by Chef from a 

recipe at GK Ashe

or 

Watermelon sorbet with no black

seeds or rubbish in it

The "extreme language" of the menu 

was a smash hit with the residents. 

In the weeks that followed they enjoyed 

"the bloody delicious vegetarian sausages with the non-packet-shit mash"

and 

"the totally non-bull-shitting Guiness-marinated Irish stew".

In 

The Road Home,

Rose Tremain

clearly serves up 

a tender and savory

feast of delights

(and non-crap).

Pastoral - Pleasingly Peaceful and Innocent

Dear Readers, 

Dear Friends,

I sometimes 

wonder what you do.

Do you commute to work every day?

Do you run around in the 

maze and madness of modern day traffic?

Have you ever got caught up in it inadvertently?

If in fact you do have to deal with this malady,

and even if you don't, 

I may have just the thing for you. 

Music to calm and relax you

when all around you there's chaos.

(Sir Edward Elgar & bike)

A Tunnel Of Time - Selected British Piano Music of the Twentieth Century

is a stunning collection

of beautiful,

and mostly calming,

pastoral pieces

by

Sir Edward Elgar,

1. In Smyrna

2. Serenade

3. Adieu

Frederick Delius,

Three Preludes

4. Scherzando

5. Quick

6. Con moto

Ernest John Moeran,

7. Summer Valley

John Ireland,

8. The Island Spell

Benjamin Britten, 

Holiday Diary

9. Early Morning Bathe

10. Sailing

11. Fun-Fair

12. Night

Christopher Headington,

13. Ballade-Image

14. Cinquanta

and

 Paul Patterson,

15. A Tunnel of Time Op 66

If, 

in fact we do drive to the music,

it is music like this

that will deliver us to our destination intact, relaxed,

and with wistful and knowing smiles on our faces.

This recording could be hard to find. 

A friend of mine brought me a copy from the UK. 

A Tunnel Of Time

Selected British Piano Music of the Twentieth Century 

was manufactured & marketed by

Kingdom Records Ltd.

Crown House, 119 The Broadway, London N.W.2 3JG

Tel: 081-208 4448  Fax: 081-208 4343

Barcarolle

A barcarole (from French, also barcarolle; originally, Italian barcarola) 

is a folk song sung by Venetian gondoliers, or a piece of music composed in that style. 

(Wikipedia's definition)

Many composers have written them including

Chopin,

Offenbach,

Rachmaninov,

Gaubert,

Koechlin,

even Pat Metheny.

I love these waltz like pieces 

that can,

with their rocking motion,

be like lullabies.

Faure 

wrote 13 of them

and these often dreamy pieces 

take me back to another time. 

It is a very attractive place. 

The recording

on Testament,

by 

Germain Thyssens-Valentin

should not be missed.

Such A Great Scene

Welcome back Dear Readers.

As many of you know,

I've been really enjoying the works 

of many of the 

Scandinavian Crime 

authors. 

I started off with Karin Fossum

and had to read all of her works. 

Loved them. 

I'm looking forward to this new one pictured above

which is out August 24th.

I read all of Larsson's

Millennium Trilogy 

and loved them!

Moved on to the works of Camilla Lackberg.

They are also very fine

and I look forward to getting my hands on

The Stone Cutter.

Jo Nesbo's Harry Hole

Detective novels are also wonderful. 

I've read the first two and will have to pick up 

The Devil's Star 

soon!

In the meantime,

with nothing Scandinavian 

to be found chez moi,

I grabbed a book I've been 

planning on getting to for some time. 

Haruki Murakami 

is one of my favorite authors

and 

Kafka On The Shore 

did not disappoint.

Everyday 

I'd eagerly rush home to be with it. 

To settle down somewhere quiet

and 

spend time with these 

wonderful,

fantastical,

characters, 

and cats.

It was very special

and I recommend it 

highly!

Here's a scene  of Kafka that I really loved. 

Let me know what you think.

                   In the afternoon dark clouds suddenly color the sky a mysterious shade and it

                   starts raining hard, pounding the roof and windows of the cabin. I strip naked

                   and run outside, washing my face with soap and scrubbing myself all over. It

                   feels wonderful. In my joy I shut my eyes and shout out meaningless words as

                   the large raindrops strike me on the cheeks, the eyelids, chest, side, penis,

                   legs, and butt  -  the stinging pain like a religious initiation or something.

                   Along with the pain there's a feeling of closeness, like for once in my life the 

                   world's treating me fairly. I feel elated, as if all of a sudden I've been set free.

                   I face the sky, hands held wide apart, open my mouth wide, and gulp down

                   the falling rain.

Gulp it down my boy!