1) Chris poses with his hero, Adam Stevens 2) The demo over the road from (the) European
Stuff happens, followed by more stuff
19.6.12 - June is when my mum has her birthday, (fittingly on Queen's Birthday weekend), and then I have mine, slap bang in the middle of the month on the 15th. I don't really believe in astrology, but it seems particularly apt to be a Gemini in my case, one twin (or face) looking back over the last six months and the other looking forward to the next. But maybe just thinking that predisposes me to behave like a typical Gemini.. Alright, just the facts then.
My actual birthday (on Friday) was pretty quiet really. I didn't even realise I was 67 till I had a call from Mick Newman who thought I'd just turned 66. Mind you, there were an awful lot of birthday wishes from my friends on Facebook and that made me feel important.
The next night Chris and I went over to the Cafarellas for a birthday roast - a real Sunday-style roast lamb and spuds roast, not one of those smart-arse American insult-fests. We cracked the Moët I'd given Marg on her birthday, which was a lovely sharing bonus. I brought Chris with me and Liz (Edmonds) was there too as it was her birthday the day before mine - we had a fun family night.
Dick was over in NZ with the family on Sunday, so gave me a couple of tickets to see Danielle de Niese with the ACO at the Melbourne Town Hall on Sunday. I met up with Doug Macrae, his daughter Cathy, Terry Toby and Henri Licht at (the) European for lunch before racing down to the Town Hall to squeak in by seconds before Tognetti and the ACO trooped on stage. I didn't have a programme so I was guessing that the opening piece was perhaps Hayden or Mozart, or even Mozart's dad, whom I seem to remember had a proclivity for hunting pieces. (It was Mozart junior).
My enjoyment was already being undermined by not having had time for a pit-stop before we took our seats, but I had no idea what the next piece was that the delightful Danielle tackled* and I certainly had no idea that it was written and sung in English. Or perhaps that should be Australian, as it was apparently from a text written by Patrick White. I know my hearing is indifferent at the best of times, but it reinforces my prejudice against classical technique when it renders language indecipherable. Dame Joan was the absolute worst.
I was in quite some pain when the ACO played another piece that I was unfamiliar with by Richard Meale, but I found it quite soothing - as I suspended myself above my seat on my elbows to take the pressure off my bladder.
Mozart's Exsultate jubilate was next, a piece that I was quite familiar with as I'd sung it myself with the Christchurch Cathedral Choir and Danielle performed it with panache but 'without the usual spikiness and robotic precision' as Clive O'Connell noted in The Age's review. I still can't sing it with any precision and I'm sure the other chorister lads were no better than I was, so the Cathedral Choir's version must've sounded a bit on the Portsmouth Sinfonia side.
I think I astonished a few blokes at the intermission as I outlasted wave after wave at the urinals and I still wasn't quite sure I hadn't done myself a medical disservice ten minutes later, but then the discomfort subsided. It was Schubert and more Schubert after the break - and I was pretty certain it was Schubert too, even without the programme. Danielle appeared briefly at the start, (in a change of costume too), but, somewhat surprisingly, only reappeared at the end to take the applause with the ACO.
Cathy had to go back to the office, (legal work is never done), so it was up to the blokes to brave the hordes of Hawthorn supporters to grab a coffee - or in my case a hot chocolate - and review the days events. Terry and Doug had been at the St Andrews gig the previous Sunday so I'm guessing their taste is as catholic as my own, but we'd all enjoyed the day. I'd be happy to take pot-luck at the Town Hall with the ACO again if the chance comes my way.

* The Tree of Man - Carl Vine