Playing Like a Woman

It's been over a week since the last entry, which is down to my total immersion in all things guitar at the West Dean International Guitar Festival and Summer School. The highlight of the week, from my point of view was a masterclass with the legendary Cuban composer, Leo Brouwer. I will admit to being more apprehensive than usual before getting up on the stage, but I managed to produce a reasonable rendition of Un Dia de Noviembre despite Brouwer saying he didn't much like the piece before I started to play. Other folks told me it was my best public performance of that piece to date, so I guess that was a good time for it to come right. The 1/2 hour I had with course director John Mills was of obvious benefit, although I was admonished about the state of my nails and treated to an enforced manicure. I am subsequently the proud owner of a sapphire nail file and have disposed of the emery boards forthwith.

On of the repertoire classes was conducted by Paul Gregory, from whom I purchased my guitar a few months back. I played the King of Denmark's Galliard in what I thought was a robust and confident style, only to be told I needed to play like a woman. Thanks Paul, that's the last time I buy you a beer. Amusingly, Linda who also attended the class, was told she was playing in a slightly too gentle manner, which prompted me to remark that she should play like a man. At this point all attempts at seriousness temporarily vanished, and the joke surfaced again in the bar later that evening, although I'm a bit hazy on that one.

Overall the course was really worthwhile and really enjoyable. I was forced to work rather hard in the ensemble class by Alfonso Montes (who turned out a superb recital together with Irina Kircher) and in the orchestra with Gerald Garcia, a nutter and a gentleman. I had a good chat with Graham Devine, who recognised me from various WSGC events (mind you, as I was the one with the cheque book, it might be that this is why I was remembered!) and extended invitations to the great and the good to visit us in NZ.

My one regret about the week was not going for residential accommodation. There's such a buzz later in the evening which I just missed out on other than Thursday (after the student concert in which I managed a fair rendition of Smoke Rising by Gary Ryan) when I got a lift home and was thus able to soak up the atmosphere and maybe a beer or two. Would I go again? Yeah, I just might. 2011 will be the 20th anniversary, and it might just be worth the flight as I'm sure that they'd be upping the ante accordingly.

I had some fun with the BFG on Sunday. Having driven to West Dean and back on Saturday, in a slightly more flamboyant manner than Di would have, the BFG failed to start on Sunday morning. I tried pushing it and along with a couple of passers by tried push starting, but it wasn't having any of it. Annoyingly I had filled it with petrol and even checked the oil level. After much swearing, huffing and puffing I pushed it back on to the drive way, single handed and popped the bonnet up. Di came out to see what all the fuss was about. I attempted to demonstrate the non-starting BFG, only for the damn thing to fire up first go. Hmm. No further hiccups were experienced and I resolved to drive like a woman, although not as dangerously ;-)

NZ wise not a lot more has happened. Di is at a car boot sale this morning trying to offload loads of tat that will not be coming with us. The NZ dollar continues to tank, very annoyingly. $2.50 now looks a long way off. We will I suspect have to exchange dosh hand to mouth in the coming weeks until it all sorts itself out. I have my eye on an NZ Vodafone SIM on fleabay, which is currently going for £1.20 with 2 days to go.

I missed out on Ashes tickets, despite Di's best attempts. Annoyingly she was successful in the ticket ballot, but failed at the "verified by visa" nonsense you have to go through these days. My old credit card was no longer valid, having been cancelled following a cloning incident a while ago which was picked up pretty sharpish. I made the fatal mistake of entering a debit card, which ticketmaster allowed me to do, but then failed to let me use when push came to shove, insisting on a credit card. Grrrr. NOT impressed, particularly as England are looking like they're going to win the Ashes on Sunday, assuming they can post a decent total following Stuart Broad's decimation of Australia. With 7 wickets in hand, this should be more than doable. Come on, England. Some people have asked me who I'm going to cheer for when we're in NZ. The answer is: NZ, unless England are playing, but always the other lot if Australia are the opposition.

I received a refund on the car insurance, less the "administration fee" of £35. Bandits. Still, £156 is better off in my bank than theirs.