Hélène Grimaud @ Jordan Hall

When I saw the program, I knew I had to go. Back in Boston for a spell, with access to world class musicians again! Beethoven, Brahms, and Bach. The Beethoven and Brahms pieces are pieces I know and love and listen to often. The Bach is the Chaconne in D Minor, a majestic work for violin, which I know mostly from the often-performed classical guitar arrangement. Grimaud is performing a piano arrangement by Busoni, which I did not know existed!

I was last at Jordan Hall for John Williams, I think, perhaps in the 1990s. I attended with Michelle and our good friends Thomas and Lynn. I still remember Williams’s performance of Domeniconi’s Koyunbaba, in which Lynn decided Williams had grown a sixth finger during the performance, or else he would not have been able to do what he did…

It was not that long ago, that we could not see live music performed. I am grateful that we can again do so!

Jordan Hall a beautiful and comfortable hall with excellent acoustics.

Ms. Grimaud took the stage, and took a few bars to find her footing on the Beethoven. I listen to the Gould version quite often. Grimaud’s take is clean and professional, if somewhat dry in comparison. Her tempi are slower than Gould’s, but then, most everyone’s is. Gould’s insistence that the only reason to record something is to make it new and fresh leads him to interesting, idiosyncratic interpretations (and humming, lots of humming).

Ms. Grimaud’s Beethoven was crisp and enjoyable, if missing the occasional ecstatic bursts that Gould renders so well. Hearing the music live gave the pieces a freshness I have been missing from listening to recordings. Still, her tempo variations occasionally jarred me out of my listening. I heard what I thought were a few minor mistakes or simply a muddled sound – passages that did not seem quite right for pieces I know quite well. Nevertheless, it was riveting to listen and watch – it’s been some time since I went to a live classical music performance.

The first half concluded with the Brahms Three Intermezzi, Op. 117, another set of pieces I have long admired. Her Brahms was surer than her Beethoven to my ears.

After a brief intermission – what Jordan hall, nobody selling wine during intermission? – I have been away from concerts too long, and I missed having a glass on break.

Back at it after intermission, Grimaud played like she had dinner reservations. I mean this not in a negative way particularly, but she launched into Brahms’ Seven Fantasies, Op. 116 before her welcome applause had even stopped. I love these pieces – moody, introspective, lyrical, and Grimaud’s performance did them justice. But with just a micro-second of pause, she leapt from the Brahms into an explosive rendering of the Bach Chaconne.

The Chaconne is a majestic work, in the canon of both the violin and the guitar. Segovia transcribed the piece for the guitar in the 1930s, cementing the instrument’s place as a serious classical instrument. Famously, he had this to say about it:

Segovia had a story he would tell whenever he talked about the Chaconne. According to Segovia, the famous violinist Enesco gave the following advice to a student: “You must study the Chaconne all your life, but you must not play it in public until you are 50, because it is very, very deep.”

https://www.guitarist.com/the-chaconne/

Since we are talking Brahms here, I learned after the concert that Brahms himself wrote a transcription of the Chaconne for the piano for one hand – the left.(listen here) Here is what Brahms had to say about this piece:

The Chaconne is, in my opinion, one of the most wonderful and most incomprehensible pieces of music. Using the technique adapted to a small instrument, the man writes a whole world of the deepest thoughts and most powerful feelings. If I could picture myself writing, or even conceiving, such a piece, I am certain that the extreme excitement and emotional tension would have driven me mad. If one has no supremely great violinist at hand, the most exquisite of joys is probably simply to let the Chaconne ring in one’s mind. But the piece certainly inspires one to occupy oneself with it somehow…. There is only one way in which I can secure undiluted joy from the piece, though on a small and only approximate scale, and that is when I play it with the left hand alone…. The same difficulty, the nature of the technique, the rendering of the arpeggios, everything conspires to make me feel like a violinist!

The Busoni arrangement is, on the other hand, majestic, titanic, explosive, and wonderful to listen to, providing a fundamentally different view of this piece, which in the original violin has a more quiet majesty. This was like listening to Listz or Tchaikowsky – brilliant cadenzas, thundering chords, and a general explosion of sound.

The applause for Grimaud’s Chaconne was thunderous, and she came back for two encores, which I did not recognize. Grimaud did not speak, ever, even to introduce her encores. I’m out of date on current concert practices but I was surprised.

Then I was out into the freezing, snowy night and into a Lyft for home, which made getting out of Boston quick and painless.

The program was a bit short, I thought. 90 minutes, with an intermission. Compare that to a recent Andras Schiff performance in Boston, clocking in at 150 minutes.

But all in all, a lovely evening with wonderful performances. Occasionally erratic or not entirely convincing, but lovely nonetheless. Here is a playlist of her recordings of the pieces in her program.


Other reviews, less positive than mine, from professional reviewers, (who of course have to have something to write about) here and here. There I learn that her two encores were Rachmaninov’s Etude-Tableau In C Major Op. 33 No. 2 and Valentin Silvestrov’s Bagatelle #2.

My reading in 2023

Well, this is a bit late. I was going to write this the week after Christmas, but events (good ones!) intervened.

Mostly for myself, I wanted to summarize my 2023 reading. As you probably know, I make a social reading app called Bookship, and I use it to track my solo reading as well as my group / book club reading.

I’m also writing a book. It’s medieval historical fiction, set during the time of Richard the Lionheart. You can follow along on my Substack, where I’m writing specifically about the history of the period:

Richard the Lionheart – A Medieval Newsletter | Mark Watkins | Substack

An exploration of Richard the Lionheart’s world and era, from his childhood in France to the Crusades in the Holy Land. Click to read Richard the Lionheart – A Medieval Newsletter, a Substack publication. Launched 2 years ago.

As you might imagine, I read a lot of medieval books this year, both history and historical fiction. A lot of those books require deep focus and aren’t necessarily ‘easy reads’. So, I also did a lot of lighter reading, as that was what I had the energy for. Surprisingly, even modern novels found a way to make pointers to what I’m working on. Here’s the fun stuff:

I finally got around to reading Dune Messiah, the sequel to Dune. It is nowhere near as long as Dune but it is a fun read. But I don’t think it has the power of Dune. (<Checks notes> Apparently I read this book in 2009 but I literally had no memory of that. Ruh-rho). I re-read Count Zero, perhaps my favorite of William Gibson’s cyberpunk/ sci fi novels. I also re-read Declare, by Tim Powers, another of one of my favorite novels, an espionage / supernatural combo. Seriously. I seem to have done a lot of re-reading last year.

In books I had NOT read before :), I read many mysteries, including Knots & Crosses by Ian Rankin, a re-read of The Blackhouse, Peter May’s unbelievably good book set on the Isle of Lewis in Scotland, and his Extraordinary People. This last book, though a modern mystery, popped up some fascinating medieval details that dovetailed with my work-in-progress book. Two Nights in Lisbon by Chris Pavone was a quick read, enjoyable but leaving no lasting impression. Knots & Crosses was my first Ian Rankin book and it was good quick fun.

https://www.thehawaiiproject.com/book/The-Transmigration-of-Bodies–by–Yuri-Herrera–191405

Yuri Herrera’s The Transmigration of Bodies is a wonderful, fun, short, hallucinogenic masterpiece of a novel of a pandemic. Short, fantastic.

I also managed a re-read of The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien. This time, my reading was forensic – I was trying to understand the nature of the power of his writing. That is probably a separate post someday. In a similar vein, and for a similar reason, I re-read Patricia McKillip’s Harpist in the Wind trilogy: Harpist in the Wind, The Riddle-Master of Hed by Patricia A. McKillip, and Heir of Sea and Fire. These books are masterpieces. If you have not read them, they are worth your consideration.

The Whispering Muse by Sjón and The Last Song of Orpheus by Robert Silverberg are fun, myth-driven works. The Sjón book, in particular, is short and easily digested.

Matterhorn by Karl Marlantes, is a devastating novel of Vietnam. It’s also very hefty. It is a commitment, but it’s worth it if you want a real sense of what the Vietnam War was like.

For book club

I’m in a book club. :). We read many books widely praised in the press and the book universe, and frankly, many felt very average to me. I think my reading tastes have (unsurprisingly perhaps) diverged from what the New York Times, the London Review, and BookTok all think are great books. Sorry, The Candy House by Jennifer Egan, I could not even finish you. Nuclear Family by Joseph Han was a bit better, and at least it was grounded in Hawaii where I live, but I struggled with that as well. The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida by Shehan Karunatilaka was uneven but very good in spots, and as I’ve been to Sri Lanka I found it a bit easier to maintain reading momentum.

The thing I love about book club, besides the people themselves, is that it gets me reading books I would not otherwise read. See No Stranger by Valarie Kaur was touching, but I had trouble sustaining attention; the message of the book was solid but it often felt repetitive. We read Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe, probably the most controversial book published in many years. I have mixed feelings about it. I found it (as an adult) a touching memoir of someone with a lot of pain in their life, who struggled with being different. But I also totally get why conservative school districts did not want it in their schools (grade school libraries? really?). I’m glad I read it, at least I know what all the fuss is about.

Two standouts for me from book club were Hawaiki Rising by Sam Low, which covered the Hawaiian Renaissance and the history of the Hōkūleʻa, and Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, which I had not read since high school.

Writing on Writing

As I’m writing a book and have never done it before, I’ve also been reading books about writing, mostly by authors I admire. On Becoming a Novelist by John Gardner, The Art of Fiction by James Salter ( a writer I especially admire), Writing Tough Writing Tender by my friend Kelly Simmons, and Steering the Craft by Ursula K. Le Guin all gave me interesting perspectives of one sort or another.

Works in progress: I’m currently in various stages of reading The 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene, Ironfire by David Ball, and a WWII book, The Thin Read Line by James Jones.

Medieval historical fiction

The bulk of my reading time this year has been medieval. Essex Dogs, by the well-known popular historian Dan Jones, is an earthy, grim take on the Hundred Years War. Company of Liars by Karen Maitland is a riff on the Canterbury Tales, with a cast of interesting characters and a lot of medieval backdrop. 1356 by Bernard Cornwell covers the Battle of Poitiers, also during the Hundred Years War.

In the general medieval history category, A World Lit Only by Fire by William Manchester is very famous. Tom Hanks says it is his favorite book. It made me crazy, it is so wrong about the medieval era. More on that here. Try Mortimer’s A Time Traveler’s Guide to the Medieval Era instead.

Medieval History

I read a number of contemporary histories of the Third Crusade, written during or shortly after the Crusade, many of the books I read not for the first time:

My constant companion this year was The History of the Holy War by Ambroise, translated by Maryanne Ailes. It was written by a French cleric/jongleur/minstrel, Ambroise, who was on campaign with Richard. Great fun. Well, not fun really, it’s pretty grim, but it is an amazing first-hand history of the Third Crusade. Also: The Itinerarium of Richard de Templo and The Annals of Roger de Hoveden, also both first-hand accounts of the Third Crusade (I produced eBook editions of these last two works that are available on Amazon, details here). And The Life of Saladin, by Baha al-Din, a compatriot of Saladin who was with him for much of his life.

The History of William Marshal by Nigel Bryant is a wonderful contemporary history of “England’s Greatest Knight”, William Marshal. It was written just after the Marshal died, and its discovery in 1861 (not that long ago) is something of a historical miracle.

In modern works of history, about Richard, I read:

Richard I by John Gillingham, The Troubadour’s Song by David Boyle, Richard The Lionheart by David Miller, and Richard the Lionheart by W. B. Bartlett. About Saladin: The Life and Legend of the Sultan Saladin by Jonathan Phillips and Saladin, by Geoffrey Hindley.

General histories of the Crusades I found particularly interesting: How to Plan a Crusade by Christopher Tyerman, a study of the logistics of getting tens of thousands of men across the ocean and supplied for war for many years. The Crusades Through Arab Eyes by Amin Maalouf provides a welcome balance to the Christian-centric histories we often read of the Crusades, and The Siege of Acre by John D. Hosler is an in-depth study of one of the most famous battles of the war.

Lais, by Marie de France. Translated by Eugene Mason – Free ebook download

Free epub ebook download of the Standard Ebooks edition of Lais: A collection of twelfth-century medieval tales of chivalry and romance.

I also found time to make an edition of the Arthurian Lays of Marie de France for Standard eBooks. The stories are good fun, particularly if you’re interested in Arthurian things. And they’re FREE!

Lastly, I read bits and pieces of Nicholson’s Women and the Crusades, King John by W. L. Warren, Greek Fire, Poison Arrows and Scorpion Bombs by Adrienne Mayor, The Once and Future Sex by Janega, Crusaders by Dan Jones, and probably a dozen other books about various aspects of the Crusades.

Standouts: Brave New World. Hawaiki Rising. The History of the Holy War. Count Zero. The Transmigration of Bodies. Gender Queer. The Harpist trilogy. Declare. Matterhorn. All well worth your time if your tastes run that way.

Taormina, 51 Shades of Grey.

I have been, for reasons I will leave to the side for the moment, researching the mythical background of Sicily, which I visited last year. Of particular note, my traveling companions and I spent a lovely day in Taormina, an ancient city on a ridge, south of Messina. Absolutely stunning place, home to a beautiful medieval town and a striking Roman amphitheater.

Roman Theater in Taormina

Sicily has any number of interesting ancient myths attached to it. Scylla and Charybdis of Odysseus fame, the Fata Morgana (a nautical mirage in the Strait of Messina, named after Morgana of King Arthur fame), Mount Etna and the Forge of Hephaestus, Odysseus and the Cyclops, and more. As I researched, I learned that, at least in Sicilian legend, Sicily became the home of Dionysus, the god of wine, revelry, religious ecstasy, lavish festival orgies, Bacchanalia, and all that.

Dionysus? Sicily? Sounds off. He’s Greek, right? So I decided to research a bit. 

A quick google of “Dionysus sicily” does not produce anything definitive (for maximal confusion, one of the early rulers of Sicily was Dionisius, a completely different fellow). It does, however, produce this: http://whitealmond-privatesicily.blogspot.com/2016/07/villa-dionysus-taormina.html

From this, I learn a few interesting things: Taormina has been a destination resort for literary types since ancient times. Cicero, Aeschylus, and others. Goethe, Guy de Maupassant. Slightly more recently, DH Lawrence came here, and reportedly wrote Lady Chatterley’s Lover here, inspired by a true life love affair between an English lady expat and a local Sicilian gardener. Friedrich Nietzsche wrote Thus Spake Zarathustra here. The canonical cover, left, takes on new meaning for me knowing it was written in Taormina.

I also learned that there is a lovely B&B called Villa Dionysus (“Dionysio”), run by the host “Eros”. Ahem. We then learn that Eros is “professional novelist, analytical psychologist and adventurer who’s [sic] main themes are erotic philosophy, sensuosity [sic], the psychology of Carl Jung (a Swiss psychologist) and the philosophy of the early Athenian hedonists.” Double Ahem. And that he has a charming female assistant. Triple Ahem. Definitely moved on to throat clearing now.

How could I have missed this place when we came?  And who is this Eros character, and are his books any good? Googling the villa itself to learn more about Eros came to naught. So I went to work finding the fellow himself. After about 15 minutes of Googling, I came upon this: https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/weird-news/lonely-hearts-job-advert-seeking-6626254

Job ad for ‘charismatic literary assistant’ is more like a ‘Lonely hearts’ post

The listing, which has since been removed, has been called ‘sexist’ and the ‘worst advert ever’ by online commenters

From which we learn: Eros is Eros de Grey, a nom de plume, and he’s apparently written a job advertisement for a Literary Assistant (“Miss Moneypenny cum Bree van de Kamp cum Archetypal Muse cum Lara Croft” sheesh), according to the ad. Well then. And apparently this ad has gone viral and is widely mocked as “the worst job ad ever.” It does, of course, read much more like a bad Tinder profile than a job ad.  Still, he has an assistant named Emily, so something worked. 

Mr. Grey is apparently actually “Stratos Malamatinas, who last made headlines as one of the directors of a company selling essays to university students.” HAHAHAHAHA of course he is.

None of Mr. Grey’s porn novels appear to have been published as near as we can determine, so the quality of his “erotic philosophy” are yet to be judged.

Still, it might be a fun place to stay. 

Dionysus indeed. 

Brave New World

Haven’t written here in awhile, been busy with Richard the Lionheart over on my medieval blog, here: https://medieval.substack.com. But I just finished reading Brave New World, the first time since high school, and thought I’d post a few thoughts.

As a dystopia, BNW provided plenty of food for thought. Drugs and sex and infinite distraction as the defining characteristics of how people are controlled. The echoes of today’s modern society are hard to miss. The presence of science as a driving force in society is pretty overpowering. The invention or Huxley’s near-invention of soma, helicopters, sex-hormone drugs, and other science seem ahead of their time. 

The erasure of mother, father, family seem to lead to a well-behaved, polite society. Which is, on reflection, a bit odd, as the last 50 years or so would suggest the breakdown of the family seems to trend to the reverse. I suppose with enough soma everyone becomes well-behaved.

I found the intensive Shakespeare quotations and allusions interesting for a time, although it seemed a bit much by the end. 

There is an old saw about civilized vs. savage people, that a savage man has a much easier time acting civilized, than a civilized man has in being savage. That might be from Tarzan, or perhaps Rousseau, or somewhere else, I can’t remember? Anyway, spoiler, that proves not to be the case here. And while I found John’s ending to be tragic, as an ending to a novel I wasn’t completely convinced. I could certainly imagine him remorseful; suicidal seems a stretch. 

Perhaps it is because of my own preoccupations with the negative influence of media on our lives, and the dual and troubling issues of media censorship (left and right both!) and surveillance capitalism, I find 1984 a far more compelling and frightening novel, as a novel, than BNW, and a more disturbing dystopia. I think I am in the minority compared to most public review/criticism, which seems to favor BNW as the better book. But to my mind, BNF suffers from having little narrative tension throughout most of the book (nothing bad happens to anyone for nearly 3/4 of the book), a weirdly-shifting view of who the protagonist is, and an over-focus on society itself, rather than the characters being impacted. 1984 was grim and ominous from the beginning and I turned almost every page waiting for something evil to happen, and was often not disappointed. In contrast BNW felt more like an amusement park ride, a bit light-hearted even, until the last few pages. Interestingly, while 1984 focused quite a bit on the control of information, BNW did not focus on equivalents of the media much at all, except to mention that books were forbidden and history not taught. 

Not to mention Huxley’s apparent fixation with the word “pneumatic”, which occurs no less than 15 times. 🙂 And the threat of getting sent to Iceland – I would take that punishment in a heartbeat!

Still I am glad I re-acquainted myself with it, had not read since high school. It’s good to be reminded not to drug ourselves, or let someone else do it to us!

By the way. There’s a TV show. Link.

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