Lectures have just ended. Just like the last drop of water from a closing tap. No more 9ams. No more soggy hair from 08:30am showers.
Came back home by 11:30 and sat on my bed doing some reading.Trying to teach myself the latter third of the Contract Law course. And everything else. Murrrrgh. Cheered up by some weird-ass judgment from Lord Denning:
I soon begin to get out of my depth. I cannot swim in this sea of semantic exercises – to say nothing of the different degrees of probability – especially when the cause of action can be laid either in contract or in tort. I am swept under by the conflicting currents.
Oh bless the lovely Lord Denning.
Then I read about strange things happening in the world…
Pretty strange? Not as bizarre as the NYO rep for next course, which is happening in what… 10 days? Well, I am very fortunate to know Ein Heldenleben from a NYOS (National Youth Orchestra of Scotland) Tour 5 years back. We toured Poland and the Netherlands, travelling across the waters by ferry and coach.
That NYOS course was my first ‘youth orchestra’ experience, which turned out to be a crazy band camp experience involving a lot of booze and partying. The age range is wider than that of NYOGB. You can enter at the age of 12 and keep auditioning until you’re 21. So you can have high schoolers amongst university students. You can imagine that I was a bit of a loner back then, being the youngest that year aged 14.
NYO are also playing Asyla – which is plural for asylum, both in the sense of a ‘sanctuary’ and a ‘madhouse’. I just googled some programme notes and found some worth sharing on here, written by Barbara Heninger:
. . . Critic Alex Ross of The New Yorker describes it as “a piece in four movements which passes through violently contrasted symphonic episodes while pursuing a single potent figure”. . .
. . . The third movement is the only one to sport a name, Ecstasio. It is meant to depict a night out in a London club, with its ubiquitous drug scene (the title refers in part to the drug ecstasy) and the repetitive patterns of technomusic. In fact, Adès began hyperventilating when copying out by hand the numerous repetitious segments in the parts of his score, and he briefly checked himself into the hospital, thinking he was having a heart attack. The music is lively, insistent, and at times somewhat frightening with its pounding percussion, as if the club-goer were suffering from a bad drug-induced haze. . .
Oh my Lord I love it, love it. This movement should appeal to all you crazy London night owls hanging about grimy clubs, dustbins and strange alleyways. Or it might depict your mood on the night before an essay is due? Skip to 2:50 to feel some ground beats.
RIght, sorry I’m typing this in a hurry. Just about to head off to the penultimate ULSO rehearsal. The only reason I started listening to NYO tunes was because a random dude from my accommodation asked to check my sink and shower. I had to remove so much scattered clothing hanging on my door and towel rail. And I couldn’t really do any more reading with the shower constantly turning on and off, banging here and there. No can do.