Musical Forays

Last week my ears were firmly up against the wall taking in as much of ABC Classic FM's Classic 100 countdown as possible. The theme this year was nominally the 20th century but in practice it was anything from 1900 to today. For me the countdown was a culmination of a process of discovery; not that the journey is by any means finished it's just not so firmly focussed on one time period any more.

Going into the voting I had some absolute favourites, but I wanted to find out more about what my options were. It wasn't all that long ago I put aside the idea of all classical music coming from a bygone era and all composers being roughly contemporary. So finding out what happened in the last hundred or so years was really interesting. I won't bore you with all the details but classical music is more than you might think and worth trying out. I was lucky and grew up with it, but if you haven't given it much of a chance I encourage you to.

The countdown itself raised some interesting moments and opinions too. One thing it really showed up however was some very intolerant people who were constantly ringing in or commenting online about how dreadful some piece of music was and how it was a shame the ABC hadn't better educated its listeners in the finer points of this or that composer; or how everyone who voted for something must be tone-deaf. They couldn't accept that people have different tastes and that just because they don't like something doesn't mean it's a bad piece of music. I certainly hope the exercise has given people pause for thought and an appreciation for the wonderful variety of music and - most importantly - people out there.

Going into fanboy over-analytical mode I compiled a list of the composers who had the most entries, then did a weighted count with points awarded depending on which lot of 10 the entries came in at. In all Mahler had six entries but Rachmaninoff had his five pieces better placed. In fact, despite the lauded success of the Brits at the very top of the countdown, it was the four big Russian/Soviet composers who had the most entries and points. It's interesting to think then how much beautiful music came out of oppression and suffering. Shostakovich's symphonies were the big revelation to me in listening to the countdown and so many of them had to be written to please the State, but still manage to speak against it. Prokofiev seems to have followed a similar path.

This has further inspired me on my journey of discovery and I'm currently cruising the river of Shostakovich's 15 symphonies. There are some lovely serene meanders and lots of rugged white-water rafting sections.

On the topic of music, a few weeks ago I was lucky enough to accompany one of my oldest and dearest friends, John, to the 10th anniversary gig of Mikeangelo and The Black Sea Gentlemen. It was at Notes in Newtown, quite swish or swank depending on point of view, and was dinner and a show. Dinner was nice, show was better - and our seats were brilliant, as in directly next to the stage.

Opening the entertainment was the Transylvaniacs; sounds like a poor excuse for a goth band but they're nothing of the sort. In fact, hearing them continued my musical journey of discovery as they play traditional music from Transylvania - without a single vampire joke or widow's peak thankfully. The music was rich in tones and rhythm and was even accompanied by a dance solo which was breathtaking to behold - and more so to perform I imagine.

The main act itself was in a word spectacular. The decade of experience showed but clearly hadn't eroded the sense of enjoyment these guys have in their music. It was them having fun as much as them entertaining anyone else and that made it great for everyone.

Part of me wishes them every success and part of me hopes they stay at this level so they can keep walking down tables singing, stealing food from waiters who get too close to the stage and using audience members as makeshift portable mike stands. Highly skilled musicians, natural entertainers and consummate professionals always in character. I will buy some albums but they'll never compete with The Black Sea Gentlemen live.

The Day I Met Neil Gaiman

I figure it's about time I started this blog and what better place to start it than the time I met Neil Gaiman? Of course, by meet I mean I handed him a book and he signed it and handed it back, but there was a moment and it deserves a blog.

First some back story. Six months before this fated meeting I'd barely heard of the man. I knew the name, I knew he was an author and someone at uni once told me I should read something he wrote. That was about it. Similarly, I'd heard of the Dresden Dolls and knew Coin-Operated Boy, but Amanda Palmer was a mystery to me. Then my wife, who at that stage was my fiancee and already a big fan of Amanda Palmer, bought and read Neverwhere because someone had told her she should. She wasn't even halfway through when she told me I had to read to it too. So of course I did; six months later I'd read it and American Gods and was collecting his other books as quickly as I could. This stuff was gold, solid gold.

So, when Amanda Palmer announced she was doing a show at the Opera House and Neil was going to be there ... it was a no brainer - so was I and my wife Samara. I listened to as much of her work before the show as I could and admit I became a big fan of her too. Soul-wrenching honesty, beautiful music, and a hefty dose of twisted humour - it's Neil's writing in song.

Just before the concert I bought a Jane Austen Argument EP, it was signed and we were going to see them and it seemed something I should do - I couldn't explain it. Damn glad I did though. They opened the concert and were breathtaking - gave me goose bumps as soon as Tom started to sing. Mikelangelo and the Black Sea Gentlemen were another revelation; then Amanda blew us all away, with Neil enchanting us with a poem of megafauna in the middle.

After the concert Amanda and Neil came out the front for signings. We knew they would from their twitter, so Samara and I had a book of his each on us and we bought a set of coasters with album art etc for her to sign at the merchandise table. The signing happened really fast so all I said to Amanda was thank you and I smiled idiotically, she smiled back in somewhat of a daze. To Neil I managed to say "You're a big inspiration," because he does inspire me and just his existence encourages me to keep writing. "Depends how much you care," he replied as he handed me the book back. I didn't fully register what he'd said at first and the next person was coming in, but I nodded and we had an infinitesimally short moment as I digested the statement. I was thrilled to bits and pretty much floated out of the Opera House.

It was pretty special. Reminded me of when I met Sir David Attenborough in a way. He didn't say something so thought-provoking but the moment left a big impression. I've thought the world of him for as long as I can remember so meeting him at a book signing was a big deal. I only blustered something about having grown up watching him (to which he said 'really?' in a polite way) and how he'd had a big impact on my life. Not even sure he completely heard it I probably mumbled. But the best part was as he handed the book back he shook my hand, I said thank you and, still holding my hand and looking me square in the eye, he said 'a pleasure.' He meant it to. He appreciated what the moment meant for me as a fan and he let me know that it meant a lot to him that I cared so much about his work. I floated for a good hour or so after that.

I thought about what Neil said a lot on the way home. I was thinking he'd just say that's nice of you or thank you. I think that's why I took a bit to register what he'd said. "You're a big inspiration," "Depends how much you care." It wasn't an immediate response, he took the book as I said it, turned deftly to the right page, signed in that well-practiced way, then said it on the return so the 'you care' was said as we both gripped the book and made eye contact. I think the look was a bit of, 'if you see what I mean' and a bit of seeing whether it meant anything to me, gauging my reaction sort of thing.

I probably disappointed him; I was halfway home before I finished digesting it fully. He's probably said it plenty of times but the way he did it, and the fact that he did make eye contact as he did; he meant it and meant it to mean something to me. I think it was also a form of thank you; 'that I have inspired you means you care about what I've done, thank you.' He definitely seems to appreciate his fans.

But to me the crux of what he said added up to more than that. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but that's my right. His work wouldn't inspire me if I didn't care about it, but more than that it wouldn't inspire me if I didn't care about my own work that he's inspired me to continue with. For me to really mean that he's a big inspiration and to show that I care I have to not just think it or even mean it, I have to do it. In one brief little exchange he inspired me even more than before. Because I do care about my work, so I will do it. Thank you Neil.