Articles by Gina

I see that too much information is all too easy to do, so I’ll to try and keep it short(er)… but so much water under the bridge…

After a couple of hard weeks of re-entry as solo carer (tho’ with some good hill walking and the occasional dip in a beck when the sun came out), along came a whole lot of sweet relief, to wit: 4 days up in the highlands of Scotland, visiting friends, which included a night on Loch Tummel where no-one in the world knew where I was; some loch swimming (Loch Vaa and Loch Ba!); the annual Lairds v. Beaters shinty match at Cannich (a game only played north of Loch Ness, sort of like hockey but with no rules); a glorious 20 mile hike, mostly in the rain (from Glen Affric, in the heart of one of the last virgin forests of Scotland, west through the mountains to Loch Duich on the Atlantic); and an evening of splendid dancing of reels at a local village hall to the tune of fiddle and accordion – heaven….

And then two cultural bull’s eyes: the first at Glyndebourne, the original country house opera (tho’ now much grander than when I last went in the ’70s), courtesy of my librettist and best mate in London. A Ravel double bill – L’heure espagnole, which was delicious musically, fun but lightweight (all about fucking), and then after the long picnic break, L’Enfant Et Le Sortilège, which literally took my breath away – stunning in every way. Ravishing music, great singing, but the production – the playing with scale, the wit, the imagination, the magic – when it ended you just wanted them to start at the beginning and do it all over again. Truly amazing… And then a few days later, the final performance of Théâtre du Soleil at the Edinburgh Festival – Les Naufragés Du Fol Espoir (Aurores). Ariane Mnouchkine is a magician, and still going strong almost 30 years since I first saw them at the Olympic Arts Festival in LA when we were doing Comedy of Errors, and they were then already at their peak. The company has evolved, obviously (you need some young for such physical theater, along with the experience of the elders) but she’s still at the helm, along with her writer and composer – I had a brief chat with her afterwards, she was hanging out by the dressing rooms which were in full view of the public, albeit behind lace curtains – she reminded me they were also doing Shakespeare back then – it was Richard II I saw… Nuafragés was 4 hours of total magic that just flew by – I was tired going in, having driven nearly 4 hours to get there (and taken an hour-long hike along the way) but I came out feeling totally refreshed and wide awake – a similar experience to seeing Peter Brook’s Mahabharata at BAM after flying in the same day… both L’Enfant and Naufragés were imbued with a sense of the limitless nature of the imagination, but in different ways – both all about illusion, the one making your senses reel from playing with scale and the perfection of the illusion, the other hiding nothing, showing you all the strings, literally, but thereby drawing you into the world in all its messiness and excitement in a more human way… both totally inspiring… thank you…

On a more mundane note, sis is still in menorca (lucky so-and-so) and there is still no word from the hospital on the date for mum’s next slice-and-dice – she’s waiting patiently, ever valiant, but ever frailer and slightly more gone… I can’t believe it’s been a year since I first came over to deal…

btw, I forgot to mention that an amazing ship docked in Mahon harbour back in July – an exact replica of the Na Victoria, which made the first circumnavigation of the globe in 1519-1522, the only one of Magellan’s ships to survive the journey that proved the earth wasn’t flat. This replica, built in Spain, did the exact same journey a few years ago, and is now cruising the Mediterranean… the perfect pirate ship…
enough…

My, how the weeks fly by… it’s August, and I’m back in the land of green and gray and rain (and the Olympics – go Team GB!), the blue and white of Menorca but a memory. But it was a great month. Sure, we had our ups and downs – particularly the siblings – but families are complicated by nature, and we’ve got a lot of nature… The house is now in great shape, as is the garden, thanks to much hard work. Sebastian and his kids (particularly Xavi) planted a great huerto this year and our produce was really good – best tomatoes ever, so sweet – I hope he does a winter crop of potatoes and onions this year like Mateo used to do, they were the best… growing food is a Good Thing…

Many great gatherings, both at our house and at friends’, and many of the traditional forays – two of which involved mum riding shotgun in the 1960s Triumph Herald convertible – toujours gai, there seems to be a dance in the old dame yet… she was even offered a boat ride out to Isla de Colon, but she chickened out on the day – wisely, I have to say… don’t push your luck. She’s been doing really well, tho’ the number of folk wanting to wine and dine her, or hang out on the patio or under the olives with her and listen to her stories seemed limitless, which was quite tiring for her – but wonderful. She thrives in the company of friends.

The weather stayed pretty much ideal the entire month, tho’ quite a lot of wind, which mum wasn’t keen on – luckily there’s always a nice quiet corner somewhere around the finca, no matter which way it’s blowing. And the sea was perfection itself – a vintage, entirely medusa-free month, which made for idyllic, care-free swimming in the big blue. Heaven. That’s what I store as a sense memory to get me through the winter. Not enough hammock time, what with one thing and another, and not enough writing (music) time, but this month was all about family (which isn’t, these days?). The last week sis finally gave me the space to sleep alone on the balcony, which I really needed – the price was almost too high, but I am not good company if I don’t get enough time to myself. I finally took an afternoon and evening off, a couple of days before leaving, and went up to the north coast to swim and watch the sunset at Cavalleria beach and on up to the faro for the full moon, stopping in Es Mercadal on the way home for a late dinner on a back street by the canal – a mini holiday… and my last night I couldn’t resist a couple of midnight dips in the sea by full moonlight, after going into Sant Lluis for the celebration of the 250th anniversary of the molino (a guided tour at 11pm!), and that after we’d been out to dinner, having spent the day getting the house ready for the friends who were due to arrive the day after we left – that was a long day, and a short night, but as I was sleeping on the balcony under the full moon I wasn’t going to be getting much sleep anyway, so wotthell archie… [Arriving back in Cotherstone the next night, to a stone cold house at 1.30 in the morning, was not fun, but mum was a trooper – we just layered up with shawls, drank a large single malt and staggered to bed.]

The guy who used to run the music shop in Mahon (he got fired at the beginning of July, after working there for 17 years, sign of the times) started a Tuesday night “music in the streets” series during the summer, which sis and I went to most weeks. It’s a really great thing – all local musicians (if not actually menorcan, then living on the island) and really good – jazz, flamenco, classical, menorcan folk, african, you name it – outside cafes, in the squares… good to see something positive being created – the shops stayed open late and the whole community got behind it, with kids and grandmas hanging out, everyone listening to music, strolling around eating ice-cream – way cool. Tato asked if diana and I would do one, but in the end there wasn’t time before I left – next year? we didn’t play much this time ‘round…

The family dynamic continues to be problematic, but whose isn’t? I think we do pretty well, considering – and that’s the vital word, consideration… and tolerance… I’ve put down a deep taproot out there over the years, created a life for myself, but change is coming down the pike and I must open myself to it, embrace it, or it will do me in – what doesn’t kill you makes you strong…

Still no resolution to my sublet crisis in New York, but we bumble along… and it turns out the Gertrude Stein workshop that I’m going back for in September (hopefully) is not in town as I thought but way upstate near Canada… never mind, at least it is happening… I have much to be thankful for.