Kind of Blue - the great Miles Davis

It's astonishing how music can lighten the mood. Here was I, knackered, disillusioned and sore of foot and back - and all it took to sort me out was a spot of the incomparable Miles Davis. Kind of Blue, to be precise - the album that introduced me to him, more years ago than I care to remember. And I never forget how privileged I was to hear him live.

Neil Hannon sings 'The Word Up'

Neil Hannon - what a hero. Found this during my Sunday online meanderings - a thing of absolute joy. 

Porgy and Bess at the Royal Festival Hall

To London's Royal Festival Hall last night for Cape Town Opera's Porgy and Bess, conceived by its composer, George Gershwin, as an “American folk opera.”

This semi-staged concert performance was stunning. While all the leads were good, it was Xolela Sixaba, as Porgy, who clearly captivated the audience. His voice was deep, rich and rounded, and he had enormous physical presence. Despite lacking the dramatic performances of fully staged operas, the cast were convincing enough for at least this member of the audience to care what became of their characters.

Bess, Kearstin Piper Brown, hit her high notes with apparent ease, and sashayed around the stage like the good time girl that she was. As for poor, doomed, Clara – played here by Pretty Yende – her “Summertime” echoed around the hall long after the baby son she'd been trying to sooth to sleep had been orphaned.

This is one of the most sensuous of operas, and well served by Cape Town Opera's chorus. Their background humming, although that seems too lowly a word to describe it, was mournful enough to send shivers up the spine.

What really stood out? So, so much. Porgy's sheer joy during “I got plenty of nuttin' “, with its lovely twangy banjo accompaniment. The chorus grooving as they backed Sportin' Life in “It ain't necessarily so”. The almost tangible sense of panic from the cast as the storm picked up and fear grew for Jake and his crew.

Just a couple of quibbles – particularly at the beginning, it was very difficult to make out the words being sung (a case of poor enunciation rather than any lack of volume). This performance was captioned for the hard of hearding, which at least meant that the audience had a reasonably good idea of what was going on – but of course, to a certain degree, it detracted from what was happening onstage.

And to the endlessly fidgeting “gentleman” in the seat in front of mine – you really are old enough to know how to sit still for more than five minutes. Like me, you are short, and like me, you need to accept that you won't always be able to see everything going on. Better to learn to live with it than to keep up the demented meekat act and risk a sharp jab in the back of the neck with a biro. You would have ruined a lesser performance.

The power of coincidence

I was trudging home from the station this evening - remember, first day back at work after a fortnight off - listening to Van Morrison singing "Cleaning Windows", when I saw ... the local window cleaner.

And, searching vainly for the song on YouTube, I came across a cover of Morrison's 'Into the mystic', by Jen Chapin, who I saw live, completely by coincidence, in Chicago last year.

So there, I'm feeling more cheerful already. Although my secret confession about Jen Chapin is that her small son was making so much noise (sitting in front of me) during the gig that I bailed out before it finished. Jen, hope this will make it up to you ...

Beethoven as a migraine cure

Have been a bit blog-idle this week, but am hoping to make amends over the weekend. A combination of a migraine, hot weather and too much work knocked me for six, but you can imagine my delight at discovering that Migraleve mixed with loud Beethoven seems to cure even the worst headache.

Last night saw my Cadogan Hall debut - in the audience, I hasten to add - for an Oxford Philomusica and London Symphony Chorus gig. The opening piece, 'The Big Bang and Creation of the Universe' by the either improbably or utterly appropriately named Nimrod Borenstein was rather beautiful. I'm not a fan of modern classical music (having once attended a prom where the main piece sounding like rain coming through a leaky roof), but I liked this - particularly the oboe solos and the use of pizzicato.

The main piece was Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 in D minor, the Choral symphony. As a lapsed horn player, I loved the horn parts. It was a 5-man section, and they had their work cut out for them. Being right at the front in the cheap seats meant that although we probably had an accoustically warped experience overall, we were all but sitting in the horn section, with all the old South Ulster Youth Orchestra (dear god, they didn't have Myspace in my day)memories that evoked.

My concert friend was unburdened by misty-eyed memories of Saturday mornings spent butchering the classical repertoire. His verdict on the Beethoven? "It's odd that we were most moved by the slow movement. The outer movements were dross." Also sprach Zarathustra .....

A double whammy last night - a Christy Moore gig at the Royal Festival Hall (one of my two favourite buildings in London, the other being Battersea Power Station). He's a fantastic singer, with one of those voices that, if you're Irish, you'll know straight away. He sounds like no other. And not many singers have the luxury of being accompanied by Declan Sinnott of Horslips.

A great set - some brilliant songs, listened to as much for the lyrics as the music. There was a Joni Mitchell one about the Magdalen Laundries - given the news coming out of Ireland these days, those lyrics made you sit up in your seat. And, being from Norn Iron, my night was made by a quick blast of 'I'll tell me ma'. But for me, the song that made the heart skip a beat was 'The well below the valley', with Moore accompanying himself on the bodhran.

There's no denying the quality of the music. My only quibble, ironically, would be the venue - Irish music doesn't lend itself to sitting down. Let's see them at the Roundhouse next time.

Vicki's tips for Eurovision

My friend Vicki's tips for tonight's Eurovision Song Contest (which I refuse to watch on the basis that life is too short). Comments in brackets are hers ....

Norway (cute 17 year old with a fiddle); Denmark (song written by Ronan Keating); Israel (Arab/Israeli singers warbling for peace); Estonia (very striking woman with shiny fringe and fiddle again); Azerbaijan (typical Euro pop trash but quite catchy!).

As you can see, it's a deeply thought-out analysis, based on scientific principles and mathematic formulae. Thank-you, Vicki!