Thomasina’s last waltz

Faith, Hope and Charity

My last set of talks for the Cleveland Orchestra got a nice pre-emptive plug from Zachary Lewis on Cleveland.com. It really is encouraging when music critics make note of the lectures.

For my part, it was a real privilege to be speaking before a program that included a wonderfully refreshing and expressive Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto (Janine Jansen).

Musically Speaking, so to speak

I've received a mailer from the Cleveland Orchestra, promoting a new three-concert series called "Musically Speaking."

Music and more! it cries. "Popular, well-known music including engaging dialogue from the stage during the concerts." Well, the Cleveland Orchestra isn't the first orchestra to do this, but it's a nice idea and should attract some fans.

Inside the mailer there's plenty of information about what's in store: full program listings with artists and repertoire and the usual marketing blurbs. There are free prelude concerts (replacing pre-concert lectures, which would otherwise turn the whole affair into an overkill of talk). We 're  told that the dialogue from the stage will be informative as well as engaging.

But you know what's interesting? Nowhere do they actually tell you who will be doing the talking. Conductors? Artists? Musicians? Staff? Guest speaker? Moderator with all of the above?

For a series that's being sold to me as "Musically Speaking," I want to know.

Back in the Stacks

Despite multiple resolutions to do otherwise, I was back again today at my local independent bookseller where I noticed a new volume from Margaret Atwood (fictional essays published as The Tent), which I didn't buy; and Philip Roth's Plot Against America, which I did.

Also spotted – down the back near the free books box (but not in it) – was The Renaissance Soul by Margaret Lobenstine. It is apparently aimed at those of us who want to do everything, or at least many things, and the lightweight reader survey at the front suggests that I have an 81 per cent chance of being one of these. (Well, we know who we are.) Lobenstine promises to help readers "understand the exciting and powerful difference between choice and focus", manage our time "the Renaissance Soul way", and thrive on many interests "without feeling scattered". The Renaissance Soul, we learn, should not fear that he/she is afflicted with Attention Deficit Disorder (does anyone really think this? surely the opposite must be true in order to nurture a diverse range of interests). Somehow I am not persuaded, although it makes me smile, and it does influence my decision to settle on Walter Isaacson's biography of a real "Renaissance soul" - Benjamin Franklin: An American Life. With Voltaire and now Franklin, perhaps I am on an Enlightenment kick.

Progress

You've seen the before shot  — here's the "behind" shot. Making progress here.

Nostalgia 2

More serendipitous discoveries in the process of winnowing and tidying...

If you grew up in Australia in the early years of the 20th century, you probably knew the Cole's Funny Picture Books. Edward William Cole's grandson, Cole Turnley, devised a third volume in 1951. I'm too young for all that, but the "new century edition" of Cole's Funny Picture Book No.3 was published in 1992, just in time for some youthful nostalgia and the discretionary income of yours truly.

It doesn't stand up to description: it's dated, it's quirky and eclectic, and deliciously Australian.

My favourite turns up on page 74, just where it always was:

DO NOT READ BELOW THIS LINE
---------------------------------------
But you are reading, or you wouldn't have your eye on these words. Well, as you've disobeyed the above instruction and have read this far, you may as well know that the only "catch" in all this is that you're not going to get anywhere. You're reading about nothing. Nothing is going to be said, and you're silly to go on reading. So why go on?

Well, why go on? Why persist in continuing to read when you've been warned that it's getting you nowhere? Stop. Now.

Do you call this stopping, letting your eyes sneak down to see what this next paragraph contains? You can rest assured that it contains nothing of greater importance than the paragraphs above. Utter drivel, save for that one eminently sensible note: Stop reading.

You're not starting another paragraph? You're incorrigible. Look, this whole piece, from that line above to the bottom of the page, is about nothing. Can't you understand that? Nothing.

See if you can't understand it better this way: Yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer, yammer. Does that make sense? Well, it makes as much sense as everything else you're going to read till you finish this page.

Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party. The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog's back. It's pointless, continuing to tell you of the folly of going on if you won't stop. Sheer gibberish will serve just as well. Ukly muckly. Abra kadabra. Eeny meeny miny mo.

Well, this is the last paragraph, and you must have realised by now that there will be nothing in it worth reading. Are you a man or a mouse? You've got nothing to lose by breaking off right here and now. Nothing to lose and everything to gain. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing. Yet here you are right at the finish, having got yourself precisely nowhere.