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f4f3Well there was "Who Stole My Sausage", a play for dogs. Held outside in Dowanhill park, the performance I was at had a cast of three and at least 20 dogs in attendance, or something like it. Merlin was rivetted.
The Scottish Toy Orkestra in the beautiful Kibble Palace was a hoot. I finally cracked when the green plastic saxaphone came out, although it was a close-run thing from the moment the post-horn was lifted. The ovation was well deserved, the band leader was pissed.
That was Saturday, give or take competent bar food and an excellent dram Martini at Oran Mor.
Sunday was wet and involved lots of re-arranging of boxes. The spare room is within a couple of hours of being cleared.
Sunday night was a tour of historic Maryhill, starting at Ruchill Church Hall, designed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh, and still in daily use by asylum groups, homeless folk, various 12 steppers and toddlers. I hadn't been inside for 38 years...
Then the group toddled off along the canal, with a running commentary on what used to be there. I found out that until I was seven I lived 50 yards from "The Tinderbox" - a chemical factory and a rubber factory flanking a match factory. Aparently it all almost went up during the accidental blitz, targetted in mistake for the Clyde shipyards by the Luftwaffe. If they'd hit, it would have made a firestorm of some magnitude.
Coming back along Maryhill Road I was able to point out the rifle slits in the Wynford Barracks wall, mostly overgrown by trees now, but still there. It was funny doing archeology on my past, but, hell, 40 years is as much distant from here as the 1920's were when I was born.
Festival going continued last night with chamber music at Oran Mor. Two string quartets came together to give us Mendelssons Octet (well, duh) but before that both had their own spots. The first quartet was drawn from the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama, and were great fun. They picked slam-bang pieces, real crowd pleasers, and finished with their "party piece", a burlesque by Piazolla (well, it sounded like that) involving much plucking and percussion. The other, senior, quartet were all players with the SNO, and their playing was much more assured and deep. Unfortunately they chose a piece from Bartok which wasn't so much stark as desolate, and it was touch and go whether I went to the bar for a glass of wine or nipped out and shot myself. The octet was fabulous, though, light, springy, full of the joys - and, no matter what unblinkered says, I'm sure the second violinists are having it away with each other...
The Scottish Toy Orkestra in the beautiful Kibble Palace was a hoot. I finally cracked when the green plastic saxaphone came out, although it was a close-run thing from the moment the post-horn was lifted. The ovation was well deserved, the band leader was pissed.
That was Saturday, give or take competent bar food and an excellent dram Martini at Oran Mor.
Sunday was wet and involved lots of re-arranging of boxes. The spare room is within a couple of hours of being cleared.
Sunday night was a tour of historic Maryhill, starting at Ruchill Church Hall, designed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh, and still in daily use by asylum groups, homeless folk, various 12 steppers and toddlers. I hadn't been inside for 38 years...
Then the group toddled off along the canal, with a running commentary on what used to be there. I found out that until I was seven I lived 50 yards from "The Tinderbox" - a chemical factory and a rubber factory flanking a match factory. Aparently it all almost went up during the accidental blitz, targetted in mistake for the Clyde shipyards by the Luftwaffe. If they'd hit, it would have made a firestorm of some magnitude.
Coming back along Maryhill Road I was able to point out the rifle slits in the Wynford Barracks wall, mostly overgrown by trees now, but still there. It was funny doing archeology on my past, but, hell, 40 years is as much distant from here as the 1920's were when I was born.
Festival going continued last night with chamber music at Oran Mor. Two string quartets came together to give us Mendelssons Octet (well, duh) but before that both had their own spots. The first quartet was drawn from the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama, and were great fun. They picked slam-bang pieces, real crowd pleasers, and finished with their "party piece", a burlesque by Piazolla (well, it sounded like that) involving much plucking and percussion. The other, senior, quartet were all players with the SNO, and their playing was much more assured and deep. Unfortunately they chose a piece from Bartok which wasn't so much stark as desolate, and it was touch and go whether I went to the bar for a glass of wine or nipped out and shot myself. The octet was fabulous, though, light, springy, full of the joys - and, no matter what unblinkered says, I'm sure the second violinists are having it away with each other...
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Date: 2008-06-24 09:48 pm (UTC)Ad the violins were taking cues, dammit. Admittedly, while having an awful lot of fun. I kept on expecting them to break into Mexican waves!
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Date: 2008-06-24 10:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-25 07:57 am (UTC)(ok, an Airbus, but still...).
I did keep thinking what you'd make of the history of my old neighbourhood. You can pick up everything there, from the old Scottish Trades Union Centre, to the former army barracks and current recruiting centres, to old gang strongholds called things like "The Botany" and "Happy Valley", to refugee groups and some very decent Indian, Chinese and Turkish restaurants...