Articles by Gina

A quick trip down to London last weekend, to shake things up a bit, having put carers in place and told sam not to be too vocal about my absence (as though he would listen…). To wit: Art (kentridge and klein at tate modern) and Theatre (michael gambon and eileen atkins in beckett); sunday morning jaunt to Columbia Road flower market (to purchase an orchid for mum – saw my favourite buskers to boot, and scored a fabulous winter coat for pennies); sunday lunch (and much else) with jan (partridge and too much wine); sunday afternoon tea with david and valda, who were en route home to nyc after 2 week’s teaching in edinburgh (and with whom I also saw the beckett); and a wonderful boat ride down the river to Greenwich, to take the cable car that runs over the river from the O2 arena – gotta love heights… really fun… highly satisfactory all ’round. the only thing missing was music…

Talking of which, I wish to put an APB out for all possible UK musical contacts – everyone must know someone, right? It’s time to start putting out feelers here, both generally – for my creative health – and more specifically for Vagabond, my current labor of love. I would like to record a bit of it, and therefore…

4 voices wanted: young soprano or mezzo for the title role (sounding 17ish, passing as a boy) – early music type voice (i.e. little or no vibrato) but with some steel in there – plus alto (for the mother – richer voice), tenor (for the brother and husband) and baritone (for the father and other roles).

Variety of instrumentalists wanted: string quartet (young, hungry, good); bass (upright); clarinet/bass clarinet; guitar (acoustic and electric) – all with good reading chops but ideally also able to improvise) – plus 2 arabic musicians covering percussion (rik, dumbek, frame drum), oud, and possible ney/shenai/violin.
Simple, right?

And tomorrow is thanksgiving… how I will miss the Nyack gathering… who will make the gravy? I am invited out to lunch, as it happens, so will make that my thanksgiving meal and raise a glass to all so far away and say thank you for hands and hearts across the sea… I MISS YOU ALL. But I’ll be back…

dark november days
more leaves on the ground than on the branches
larches like golden ghosts in the ever darkening landscape
silhouetted against a sky heavy with impending rain

I was wrong in my earlier belief that this part of the world being is more about yellow than red – or at least copper and gold – the fall colours continued to be ever more splendiferous, and for an extraordinarily long time – it’s been an epic autumn, I think partly because with all the summer rain the leaves had a really good grip! but we are now headed into the skeletal season, with brown black and grey the predominant colours… only a month to the winter solstice…

Last night was first rehearsal for the St. Matthew Passion, which the Barnard Castle Choral society are going to sing in Durham Cathedral on March 16th – now that’s worth showing up to practice for…

The late-breaking bad news is that doug’s storage in the east village was flooded, and all our master tapes (kamikaze, wau-wa) got soaked, as well as much of doug’s archives, and all my road cases – I’d forgotten I’d put a lot of stuff there in the big clear-out. doug rescued what he could and is slowly drying out the tapes – friends have taken the road cases and keyboards and have packed them with 50 lbs of rice to try and dry them out – new yorkers, true grit…

4 More Years – hallelujah! Woke up at 6a.m. to listen to the acceptance speech… Mum has been very under the weather for the past week or so, a bad cold that has really taken its toll (her breathing is terrible, and she still has a racking cough), but the election result has bucked her up no end – mind you, she always said he would win, she called it… I can’t help thinking there must have been a moment late last night, when he realised that he was actually going to win, that Obama had a heart sink moment – I mean who in their right mind would want his job? Especially now… the knives will be out… but thank the gods he does want to do it….

Remember, remember, the 5th of November,
Gunpowder, treason and plot…

What a week… watching the images come in of hurricane Sandy’s devastation, not being able to reach anyone in downtown NY for 5 days, being powerless to help (thank goodness I brought sam back with me, she says selfishly) – welcome to the future – not a pretty picture… meanwhile, we had a great bonfire night down in Barney on Friday – really fabulous fireworks and the burning of the houses of parliament – all very satisfactory… now we just have to suffer through tomorrow – being 5 hours ahead means we won’t know the results until wednesday – I’m not sure I can stand the suspense… SURELY America is not as stupid as I fear… the apocalypse of Sandy is nothing to what a Romney administration would be….

Woke up to a totally white world this morning – an inch of snow on everything, with the odd rose sticking out like a drop of blood… and the clocks not even back yet (they go back tomorrow). There is still enough heat left in the sun for it not to have lasted long – mostly gone by midday – but it was very beautiful while it lasted, and even with the sun it only got a few degrees above freezing – this kind of weather I like, even if it is a bit early… Only yesterday I was thinking that autumn was well and truly here, with the leaves falling like copper rain… this part of the world actually goes in more for gold than red, the sycamores in particular giving the impression of the last of the summer sunshine. But then there are the amazing copper beeches – the beeches in general are simply stunning. Talking of trees, the news of the projected demise of all of this country’s ash trees is a real tragedy… it’s hard to imagine the countryside without them, they are one of the iconic sights of this part of the world… first the elm, now the ash… and they say the chestnuts are suffering “bleeding” conkers, and the oaks something we don’t yet understand… we are indeed in the end game of the old world….

Sam and I moved into Saltoun (the Big House) yesterday, as they were forecasting real cold, and the heating bills out in my studio will skyrocket if I have to heat it 24/7… sam is not sure about the move, the house smells mightily of old dog – but Tom never goes upstairs any more, so that is now sam’s territory. I lit a fire in the drawing room this evening to tempt him, but it wasn’t until 11pm, when everyone else had gone to bed, that he ventured down… yavash, yavash, as the persians say… good timing on the move, tho’, as the kitchen taps decided to explode last night, lucky I was here… always something…

I have written my first song from this part of the world – a rather lengthy bardic ballad, no doubt partly inspired by seeing Robin Williamson perform in Barney back in September – altho’ I actually started writing it up in Hamilton, NY, after a gorgeous walk through the autumn woods on the Colgate campus. There are also two instrumentals from my trip up to the Highlands in August, a slow air and a reel… has to come out somehow…