Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Where Was I? Pertuis Days 4 and 5 - Mostly Music
So, I ceased posting blog entries after Jim's intense and heart-jarring tribute to his fallen friend Andrew, fearing judgment for self-indulgent-shallow-i-did-this-i-did-that posts. And I didn't even write anything down about what I had done or how I was feeling or what I saw, heard, or smelled, so it's already a murky world in there. But Jim insists that I post once again, so here I go.
Days 4 and 5 in Pertuis were primarily consumed with playing chamber music at Phillipe's house. I was, with the exception of a couple things they gave me music ahead of time for, almost entirely sightreading everything. And also hearing the pieces for the first time, not being one to actually listen to much classical music (shame). It was actually a marvelous challenge and great experience. Werner (a pro violinist, normally one of the coaches when they have the real chamber music course), Phillipe (host, organizer, retired Proctor & Gamble man who spent 35 years working for the company founded and headquartered in my hometown of Cincinnati), Nick (Englishman and English teacher, living in Paris, reminded me of Robyn Hitchcock [if Robyn Hitchcock were a mild-mannered English teacher and didn't listen to anything but classical music]), and especially Francois (retired hand surgeon) were impressed with my sight-reading skills, and very generous and tolerant of my complete ignorance of the music. I kind of felt that all of the driving alone, getting lost, and route-finding that I had done during the past couple weeks of navigating in a strange land directly contributed to my sight-reading skills...as if I had exercised my "looking-ahead, reading the signs, paying attention to surroundings" muscles. Werner suggested it was a heightened fear of getting lost. Touche.
Anyway, I had some time off in-between chamber music sessions. On the morning of Day 3 I checked out the town on Ansouis, considered one of the most picturesque towns in the area.
Here it is as seen from the approaching road:
I parked toward the bottom of the town and walked halfway up the hill for this view of the surrounding countryside:
The church at the top of the hill is built atop beautiful rock with slanted striations:
There was just about nothing going on in the town that morning, but it was still real purty:
I planned to go back to go to the Musee Extraordinaire (closed the day I visited), which is supposedly a kind of kitchy collection of stuff from sea voyages. I really wanted to check it out, but never made it back.
From Ansouis I headed to Curcuron, where it was market day. This town has a huge public square with a big fountain and massive plane trees, making it extra-charming for a morning of checking out all the food and crafts stalls:
cool metal sculpture outside the artist's studio:
excellent songster:
the fountain and plane trees:
thought about getting the paella:
but decided on pate and produce:
self-portrait getting back in the car:
Then back home for lunch on the patio. Pate en croute was out of this world. Radishes seriously spicy. Cheese (saint-something, which will not narrow things down at all) was delicious.
and a run-through of chamber music (I set things up under the fig tree) before heading to Phillipe's:
And then there was a whole bunch of chamber music played at Phillipe's that evening and the following morning. But then during an afternoon off, I headed to Bonnieux at Phillipe's recommendation for a scenic place to check out. The weather was beautiful when I headed out. I arrived at Bonnieux as things were getting a little cloudy, then decided to go to Lacoste first. Once I got to Lacoste, the skies turned black and a major storm tore through my plans. It was a cool storm, though, with downpour, lightning, dramatic thunder. Would have been thoroughly enjoyable from the window of one's dwelling, but was less-so from the window of my Panda.
Lacoste in the storm:
View from Bonnieux in the storm:
Due to the scary lightning, I thought it would be best if I turned around and headed home post-haste, fearing that if I waited for the storm to blow over, it just might NOT blow over, and then I'd be stuck in the dark, in the mountains. And so, off I went, driving back down the switchbacks and back to Pertuis. When I got home things had become much more pleasant:
Whipped up a little dinner, using up various ingredients I had accumulated. This combo of spaghetti, green beans, and sauteed radishes (which takes the bite out a little bit...I learned that from my pal Ramsay years ago when I was shocked to see her cooking radishes), and Parmesan. And of course a fine rose:
After dinner I wedged in another cello practice, this time setting up in the veranda, which has a glass-door wall. Unbelievable swarms of moths made opening the doors an impossibility, but as I practiced, looking out the window, and the sky got dark, there was a LOT of dramatic lightning in the distant sky to the east. Not a bad view...not a bad day.
Days 4 and 5 in Pertuis were primarily consumed with playing chamber music at Phillipe's house. I was, with the exception of a couple things they gave me music ahead of time for, almost entirely sightreading everything. And also hearing the pieces for the first time, not being one to actually listen to much classical music (shame). It was actually a marvelous challenge and great experience. Werner (a pro violinist, normally one of the coaches when they have the real chamber music course), Phillipe (host, organizer, retired Proctor & Gamble man who spent 35 years working for the company founded and headquartered in my hometown of Cincinnati), Nick (Englishman and English teacher, living in Paris, reminded me of Robyn Hitchcock [if Robyn Hitchcock were a mild-mannered English teacher and didn't listen to anything but classical music]), and especially Francois (retired hand surgeon) were impressed with my sight-reading skills, and very generous and tolerant of my complete ignorance of the music. I kind of felt that all of the driving alone, getting lost, and route-finding that I had done during the past couple weeks of navigating in a strange land directly contributed to my sight-reading skills...as if I had exercised my "looking-ahead, reading the signs, paying attention to surroundings" muscles. Werner suggested it was a heightened fear of getting lost. Touche.
Anyway, I had some time off in-between chamber music sessions. On the morning of Day 3 I checked out the town on Ansouis, considered one of the most picturesque towns in the area.
Here it is as seen from the approaching road:
I parked toward the bottom of the town and walked halfway up the hill for this view of the surrounding countryside:
The church at the top of the hill is built atop beautiful rock with slanted striations:
There was just about nothing going on in the town that morning, but it was still real purty:
I planned to go back to go to the Musee Extraordinaire (closed the day I visited), which is supposedly a kind of kitchy collection of stuff from sea voyages. I really wanted to check it out, but never made it back.
From Ansouis I headed to Curcuron, where it was market day. This town has a huge public square with a big fountain and massive plane trees, making it extra-charming for a morning of checking out all the food and crafts stalls:
cool metal sculpture outside the artist's studio:
excellent songster:
the fountain and plane trees:
thought about getting the paella:
but decided on pate and produce:
self-portrait getting back in the car:
Then back home for lunch on the patio. Pate en croute was out of this world. Radishes seriously spicy. Cheese (saint-something, which will not narrow things down at all) was delicious.
and a run-through of chamber music (I set things up under the fig tree) before heading to Phillipe's:
And then there was a whole bunch of chamber music played at Phillipe's that evening and the following morning. But then during an afternoon off, I headed to Bonnieux at Phillipe's recommendation for a scenic place to check out. The weather was beautiful when I headed out. I arrived at Bonnieux as things were getting a little cloudy, then decided to go to Lacoste first. Once I got to Lacoste, the skies turned black and a major storm tore through my plans. It was a cool storm, though, with downpour, lightning, dramatic thunder. Would have been thoroughly enjoyable from the window of one's dwelling, but was less-so from the window of my Panda.
Lacoste in the storm:
View from Bonnieux in the storm:
Due to the scary lightning, I thought it would be best if I turned around and headed home post-haste, fearing that if I waited for the storm to blow over, it just might NOT blow over, and then I'd be stuck in the dark, in the mountains. And so, off I went, driving back down the switchbacks and back to Pertuis. When I got home things had become much more pleasant:
Whipped up a little dinner, using up various ingredients I had accumulated. This combo of spaghetti, green beans, and sauteed radishes (which takes the bite out a little bit...I learned that from my pal Ramsay years ago when I was shocked to see her cooking radishes), and Parmesan. And of course a fine rose:
After dinner I wedged in another cello practice, this time setting up in the veranda, which has a glass-door wall. Unbelievable swarms of moths made opening the doors an impossibility, but as I practiced, looking out the window, and the sky got dark, there was a LOT of dramatic lightning in the distant sky to the east. Not a bad view...not a bad day.
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