Sally rounds up her end of summer party with a delicious sunday lunch, a good place to be as it is rainy and windy here. Meet some very different authors, find out more about the ones you know and perhaps discover bloggers new to you.
Author: tidalscribe.com
Smorgasbord End of Summer Party – Afternoon Tea – Colleen Chesebro, Sue Hampton, Jane Gogerty, Norah Colvin, Jane Risdon, Wendy Janes, Gigi Sedlmayer, Jena C. Henry and Darlene Foster
Sally Cronin is hosting an end of summer party at Smorgasbord and I am delighted to be one of her guests for afternoon tea; everyone is welcome so come along and enjoy good food and meet some authors.
Silly Saturday – Finding The End of The Rainbow
Reginald loved painting
Adored colours
Inspired by what he saw
Never stopped trying to create
Beautiful pictures
Of all the colours in the
World
RED ladies dancing gracefully
ORANGE shades of autumn trees
YELLOW downy hair of his baby son
GREEN turbulent seascapes
BLUE skies with Constable clouds
INDIGO flowers in his garden
VIOLET vivacious surrealist shapes
Robert took photographs
Anytime, anywhere, anything
Integrated technology
New digital camera
Beautiful images
Of the real and unreal
Wonderful colours created by the computer
RED balloons in the sky
ORANGE flowers magnified
YELLOW striped bumblebees
GREEN rolling hills and fields
BLUE racing cars
INDIGO eyes of lovely ladies
VIOLET twilit skies
Reginald regularly exhibited
At shows and displays
In galleries and art rooms, but
No one bought a single scene
Browsing, gazing, frowning, smiling, leaving. If
Only, thought Reginald, I could see the
World and find more colours.
Paint the perfect picture, try a new
Approach
Investigate
New colours
Try to find THE END OF THE RAINBOW
Photos are the way, said Robert
Acquire a computer, find a new
Interest, begged his wife,
Never leave us, but Reginald
Took his leave
RED desserts he crossed
ORANGE robed monks he met
YELLOW sunrises beckoned him
GREEN turbulent seas carried him towards the horizon
BLUE southern skies warmed him
INDIGO light on the mountain top dazzled him
VIOLET flower that bloomed once in a lifetime, pierced his heart, but still he
Roamed on and on
Around the world
Into the wilderness
Never giving up hope of finding
Better colours
On the other side of the sky
Wondering if the end of the arc lay there
RED tinted clouds
ORANGE sun
YELLOW rays
GREEN waters
BLUE raindrops
IDIGO mist
VIOLET shimmer
Pausing, praying
Reginald asked for
Insight
Saw his
Maker, who said
Remain still
Avert your eyes, do not go
Into the colours, But
Nearer he went
Brighter and brighter
Onwards in
Wonder
Gazing at the shimmering spot where the
Rainbow burned into the
Earth, darkness fell on his soul and he saw a
Yawning chasm where all was GREY
God spoke to
Reginald. I showed you all the colours of the
Earth, but still you asked for more. Go
Yonder and see no more.
Friday Flash Fiction – Rambling Radio
‘…and when the light turns green Marcia, that’s your signal to speak, here’s your script.’
‘Script? I don’t need a script, surely the idea is to chat.’
‘Yes, but you do need to know what items you are linking. While the music is playing you can muse on what you might say next, but when a report is being read you need to concentrate so you can comment.’
‘Multi tasking, I know all about that…’
Theme music fades
‘Yes, yes I’m ready…
Good afternoon, it’s Marcia Graham taking you up to Drivetime with news and views and the sort of music you like … and my first guest is a man who plans to unicycle around the world. Join us after the break.’
Marcia clasped the headphones with a pained expression on her face. ‘Why do we need a break already, it’s only a few minutes since the last advertisements. Oh not this excruciating one, I can’t stand it when I’m in the kitchen, let alone having it blasted into my ears… Are you the unicycle man, not quite what I’d imagined, still, I suppose you will lose plenty of weight on your travels, whoops, amber light, get ready…
and this afternoon I’m talking to…
can’t read this small writing
…Free Wheeler?’
‘Freddie, my mother was a Queen fan, quite funny really, you know, I Like To Ride My Bicycle…’
‘But you’re riding a UNIcycle… what did give you the idea to unicycle around the world?’
‘I was bullied at school, Freddie No Wheels, my parents wouldn’t buy me a bike…’
Half an hour later
‘Thank goodness we’ve got rid of him; this show needs intelligent guests, I see myself as a cross between Joan Bakewell and Melvyn Bragg. No, I’m the same age as her actually. Who chooses this music, I can’t stand flutes, we don’t want to send the listeners off to sleep… ooh amber light…
and here is the news read by Peter Grimes…
unfortunate name, who decides the order of the news items, are we really interested, would we care if the operation wasn’t a success?’
The producer sighed and wondered how his radio station came to be involved in DRIP, Deferred Retirement In-house retraining Programme.
Albertopolis
Everyone remembers the first time they see a dinosaur. For many of us it will have been on our first visit to the Natural History Museum in London. As you walked in the Great Hall there he was staring at you, the huge skeleton of Diplodocus. We were on a junior school outing, squashed cheese and tomato sandwiches in Kensington Gardens, then round the museum with our activity sheets. It wasn’t until I visited as an adult that I was disappointed to discover he was only a plaster cast of the original, uncovered in the plains of fossil-rich Wyoming.
One memorable visit was when two friends and I took our seven children, including three toddlers in buggies, on the tube train. On the way home in rush hour the poor passengers had to contend with four large plastic diplodocuses, their dangerously long tails waving in their faces. Diplodocus is now touring round the country and you can see a real Blue Whale skeleton instead.
But Prince Albert would have been pleased how many school children and families visit Albertopolis. Over 150 years ago open fields and market gardens changed when two men had a vision to develop a part of London dedicated to the arts and sciences, using the profits of the Great Exhibition of 1851 held in nearby Hyde Park. Nicknamed ‘Albertopolis’, the area was designed to celebrate the achievements and grandeur of Victorian Britain, it is still thriving today with three museums, colleges and the Royal Albert Hall.
https://www.discoveringbritain.org/activities/greater-london/walks/albertopolis.html
Prince Albert’s vision for the hall was to promote understanding and appreciation of the Arts and Sciences. When he died of typhoid fever in 1861, plans were put on hold until they were rekindled by Albert’s collaborator Henry Cole. The Royal Albert Hall of Arts and Sciences was opened on 29 March 1871 by Queen Victoria. Albert’s very ornate statue sits across the road in Kensington Gardens. The design of the Hall was inspired by Cole’s visits to ruined Roman amphitheatres and it was originally intended to accommodate 30,000 people, reduced to 7,000 for financial and practical reasons, and today to around 5,500. Every summer it is the main venue for the BBC Proms, the world’s greatest music festival, which surely would have pleased the prince.
Even if you have never been to London, the building will be familiar if you watch The Proms on television; a good way to enjoy the concerts as you get to meet musicians and find out about the music. There is something for everyone from ‘Cuba meets Jamaica’ to the first appearance of the Estonian Festival Orchestra founded in 2011. Premiers of new music are bundled in with old favourites so no one will be scared off. You will learn to interpret the words of the commentators; ‘what an amazing sound picture’ – no tune – ‘especially commissioned work’ – it’s only five minutes long…
But you can’t beat a live performance. I must confess I have never queued for cheap tickets on the day to stand in the arena with the Promenaders. I have not lived near enough and don’t like queuing or standing, is my excuse, but enthusiasts will tell you it is a wonderful experience and some go to every concert. If you are booking seats, all you need to know is don’t book the cheap seats near the top if you want to hear your favourite pianist or violinist – the soloists look like tiny puppets going on stage. But if you are going to hear a big symphony or the Planet Suite, sit wherever you like, it will be fun. If you want to go on the famous Last Night plan well ahead and check how the ballot system works.
What are your museum memories? Have you been to The Proms?
One man and his dog vowing to clean up Britain’s coastline and raise awareness of litter pollution
My environmental hero of the week. I’ve always wanted to walk all round the coast, slowly… how is the question, with a back up team and camper van or roughing it? Picking up litter on the way had not occured to me and I hadn’t realised how long it could take! Well done to Wayne and Koda.
Silly Saturday – Seen Sideways
A new exhibition opens here at the weekend, challenging how we perceive the world around us. The artist and photographer Scribaltide claims there is no up or down, on earth or anywhere in the universe, so therefore we should free ourselves from the notion that there is a right way up to hang paintings and photographs. The exhibition has been panned by critics and the Royal Photographic Society has distanced itself, saying Scribaltides’s pictures are not of a standard they would recognise, even the right way up.
Noah’s Ark, the wilderness years.
The Flood
Tide Times
New Horizons
Steep Path
Skyfall
Red Door
Dark Angel
Heatwave
Globe
Spiralling
The public have been flocking to the exhibition, but there have been reports of some viewers being taken ill with dizzy spells and nausea. A disclaimer advises those with a heart condition or who are pregnant to seek the advice of their doctor first.
Flash Fiction Friday – Flashback
Simon Simmons, the Radio Three presenter, looked forward to the rest of the day. He had enjoyed a pleasant lunch and he was on time for the afternoon rehearsal. Another town, another concert hall, another orchestra and a conductor he had never met before; Ukrainian, Polish or Scandinavian? It didn’t matter; one of those brilliant young polymaths who spoke several European languages perfectly and had studied in all the major cities.
The music was well known to Simon, he had his notes ready for the seven thirty pm live broadcast; all he had to remember was the conductor’s name and how to pronounce it.
The conductor looked older, shorter than he expected and if he dressed that flamboyantly for a rehearsal, the audience could look forward to a colourful concert. He was checking the music on the stands, a punctual and efficient man thought Simon as he approached him with arm outstretched.
But the conductor did not shake his hand, instead he peered arrogantly at him and spoke volubly in German. Perhaps he had forgotten what country he was in, not surprising the way these maestros charged around the globe.
‘Welcome to England.’
The conductor ignored him and stepped up onto the rostrum to examine the music. They both turned to the sound of approaching footsteps. A young man in jeans and T-shirt appeared from backstage, he spoke in perfect English with a precise East European accent.
‘Good afternoon, you are from the BBC? I am glad you could come to the rehearsal.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Is that your sound man on my rostrum?’
‘No, I thought he was the…’ Simon did not want to offend the world famous conductor. ‘He’s not with us, so he is obviously not meant to be here, though he does look familiar, shall I call someone…’
Before he could finish they were interrupted by the sharp guttural tones of the stranger. The conductor looked puzzled, but replied in German and approached him. The two engaged in lively conversation; the conductor patted the man’s arm and turned to Simon.
‘I presume he can’t understand English, I think he’s German, but I can’t grasp his accent. We may have a, how do you say, ‘nutter’ on our hands, he thinks he is Beethoven.’
Simon felt a lurch in his stomach, that’s where he had seen the man before, in paintings.
The conductor laughed. ‘He does look like him.’
The stranger scowled, well aware they were laughing at him.
Simon had an idea, it seemed a shame not to harvest the situation for future broadcast anecdotes, especially if they let him do The Proms this year. He motioned to the Steinway piano at the side of the stage.
The conductor smiled in agreement. ‘Let Beethoven prove by playing to us.’
He turned and spoke in German to the stranger, who strode over to the piano, then halted. He examined the instrument, lifted the lid carefully and propped it open, then fingered the keys as if they were a lover’s body. He played a few chords, held his ears, then nodded in approval.
As he played exquisitely, both men recognised a Beethoven sonata, though the tempo was faster than they expected and he added extra flourishes.
‘So he’s a brilliant musician,’ said Simon ‘as are many visiting soloists. Ask him what today’s date is.’
A few brief words were exchanged.
‘Twenty Seventh of February’
‘That’s today’s date.’
‘1813…’
ooo000ooo
An extract from Maestro, one of the short stories in Times and Tides.
Rang-Tan: Greenpeace launch animated story to raise awareness of the story of dirty palm oil
Eco film of the week – Rang-tan’s story. It’s hard to keep up with what we shouldn’t be buying. At our end busy shoppers need to buy food and worry about their budget and at the other end people need jobs, they take jobs that supply a product in demand. It’s companies with the money and power that need to see the bigger picture and take responsibility.
Pause and Applause
We were at a matinee concert at Bournemouth Pavilion, near the front was a young mother with a little boy who was chatting excitedly, when the music started he quietened. After a few bars the conductor raised his baton for a pause in the music; the little boy called out in a loud voice STOP. It was so funny. The conductor lowered his baton unperturbed and the orchestra carried on playing, but before the next piece of music a busy body usherette came bustling down and moved the mother and child further back and to the side. I hope it didn’t discourage them from live concerts. After all, the child was better behaved than some adults and Bournemouth Pavilion seems to attract more than its fair share of odd people when Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra are playing.
The seats are very close together with little leg room, not surprising in a building nearly a hundred years old, so just getting to one’s seat involves lots of very English ‘excuse me’s and ‘sorry’s. One afternoon in the foyer, an ‘odd chap’ was already causing confusion in the queue for programmes. Soon after I sat down he came shuffling along, huffing and puffing, treading on toes as he made his way to the middle of the row in front, then with much shuffling, grunts and elbows flying finally sat down. Nobody could believe it when in the middle of the first piece of music he stood up and reversed the whole procedure till he finally reached the aisle again.
One evening the lady in front of me started rummaging in her bag the moment the first notes were played, her friend whispered advice ‘In my experience the more you look the less likely you are to find what you are looking for.’ The rummaging continued until the last note when she triumphantly held aloft what she had been looking for – her glasses.
Surely no one would unwrap sweets noisily? Yes, perhaps they can be excused if they have just had a coughing fit. But why would anyone eat a packet of crisps in a concert? One evening, across the aisle from us, sat a lady who we assumed had come along as carer or friend with a very disabled lady in a state of the art wheelchair. The disabled lady sat quietly enjoying the concert and needed no attention from her friend, so what on earth was her companion doing digging in her bag, rustling around, disturbing everybody and probably the orchestra as well?
Visit another Pavilion concert in a previous blog.
https://tidalscribe.wordpress.com/2018/02/26/wagner-elgar-and-all-star-superslam-wrestling
Not everyone intentionally causes havoc at a concert. We were at the Lighthouse in Poole, the BSO were at full throttle in a lively movement of a Tchaikovsky symphony when we felt our seats vibrating. It wasn’t the music; several well built Saint John’s Ambulance people were wheeling a stretcher down the aisle, with even more disruption as they tried to get to the collapsed man; finally they wheeled him off with his poor wife, clutching her handbag, following after them. The orchestra played on valiantly, presumably the conductor would not have seen all the action, some of the orchestra must have, unless they were totally absorbed in the music.
Some people enjoy a night out without hearing the concert. I knew an elderly couple who came to the Lighthouse throughout the season. He loved music, she did not and figured they could afford for him to go to more concerts if they didn’t buy tickets for her. She was quite happy to sit in the foyer with her knitting, holding court, chatting to the Saint John Ambulance and bar staff. At one stage she made a friend who also sat out the concert waiting for her husband.
If you have never been to a live concert before don’t worry, you won’t draw attention to yourself if you follow two simple rules. Don’t clap till you are surrounded by applause; even regulars don’t always know when a piece of music has ended. Second rule, don’t stand up, don’t move a muscle until the orchestra leaves the stage. You may think the concert is over because the conductor and soloist have been applauded and left the stage. Don’t be deceived, they will return, perhaps several times to more frantic applause and just when you really think it’s over and you will be in time to catch your train or get to the car park before your ticket expires, the pianist will sit down smiling and play an encore. At one concert the flamboyant pianist played three encores, each with enthusiastic flourishes, did I detect a look of panic on the faces of the orchestra members, was she ever going to go home?
