Picture the scene: we are in the middle of Tours, we have just been amazed by the Museé du Compagnonnage and are famished. Our next stop on the helter skelter day trip we had planned was a delightful little Lebanese place called Le Byblos. The reader should note, it was around 5 degrees and raining at the time, so we three were quite keen to get inside a warm restaurant.
We chose a mezze menu comprising of 9 dishes which were a mixture of meat and vegetarian. The first course of mezze was cold, including baba ganoush, moussaka, houmous, stuffed vine leaves, a fattoush salad and flatbread. We were astonished throughout the meal by the variety and flavours offered. The baba ganoush was a particular triumph. This dish is comprised of roasted eggplant, eggplant, olive oil, lemon juice, various seasonings, and tahini. I (Charlotte) had never had moussaka cold before, and its rich, tangy sauce seemed to have been intensified by a long chilling time. The vine leaves were suffused with lemon and melted in the mouth despite being cold.
By the time the second set of dishes arrived, we were itching for more. This rather blurry photograph shows the first part of the hot mezze. The chicken was rather humorously taken from us to have an extra layer of seasoning added. I told the waiter the chicken was excellent by itself, to which he responded “Yes, I know it very well, but it would be better with more seasoning”. Reader, it was indeed better. This was the first chicken we had sunk our teeth into since giving up meat for Lent, hence you can imagine our salivating, then having our dish swiped from under our noses! The falafel, with 7 vegetables. including ground chickpeas and broad beans. Now, there is a stall at Birmingham Bullring Markets called Mr Falafel, who does excellent falafel. Charlotte has just reminded me that the Damascena falafel, too, was exquisite. However, the Byblos falafel was transcendental. Suffused with layers upon layers of flavour, it rendered us speechless.
Finally, we enjoyed two kinds of arayes, one with beef and one with cheese. The meat one comprised minced onions , seasonings, and fresh herbs. Arayes are grilled or pan-fried before serving. I found the cheese filling a bit thin but by this point we had eaten so much that we were grateful for the brief respite.
Charlotte would like to add that the mint tea she consumed was top quality.
On the way out of the restaurant, one is treated to a fabulous woven tapestry / rug with the Virgin Mary on it, which was most amusing.
Overall this was a staggering experience, shockingly economical and unexpectedly comical. Please, if you have the time and are in the region, do visit Le Byblos.
Charlotte and I were delighted to find Mahler 1 was playing at Symphony Hall last month. We went to see it and were spellbound from start to finish. Each of the movements are so distinctive from one another. The last time I wrote a classical AOTM was my favourite recording of the Bach violin concertos, which took some hours of research. Alas I do not have such a luxury at my disposal so I shall write about this symphony briefly.
Mahler’s first four symphonies are often classed as his “Wunderhorn” group owing to thematic and emotional links with settings of songs from the anthology of German folk poems “Des Knaben Wunderhorn” (“Youth’s Magic Horn”). Strictly speaking, the First Symphony doesn’t fulfil this criterion for inclusion as a “Wunderhorn” symphony as its thematic and emotional links are with Mahler’s first song cycle, “Lieder Eines Fahrenden Gesellen” (“Songs of a Wayfarer”), of which both words and music were written by him under the influence of first love and rejection. But it’s a useful classification because the Wayfarer songs and the First Symphony do inhabit the same thought and sound world of symphonies 2,3, and 4. Musicweb
The first movement starts with a glorious a seven-octave-spread A, played “as quietly and ethereally as possible by the strings, a shimmer of sonority that sounds out the whole compass of the orchestra” according to the Guardian. Mahler first conducted this in 1889 in Budapest. I can only imagine what it must have been like to be in the audience. Mahler wrote in 1893 that the first movement represented the waking of Nature after a long winter.
The second movement is a lot of fun, with a dance-like motion evolving into crescendoing (yes that is a word) dynamic and tempo and then back to a waltz.
The third movement is based on the tune of Frère Jaques. It starts off slowly but picks up beautifully over the course of ten minutes. Mahler described this movement as a satiric cartoon of “The Hunter’s Funeral” turned into musical life, a vision of a hunter’s coffin drawn by animals.
…with a slow movement that incorporates street bands, klezmer inflections, and the tune known as “Frère Jacques”, and whose final movement will rail against the cosmos with symphonic music’s most terrifying expressionist outburst, and which, at the end of its drama, will find a sheer musical joy that’s both a transcendence of the bodily and the spiritual, in the most uninhibited, tumultuous noise the orchestra had yet made. Guardian.
The fourth movement is described by the composer as “Dall’inferno” or, ‘from Hell’. The opening is breathless and breathtaking. It continues throughout on the theme of ‘a great cry from a wounded heart’, which the conductor has ascribed to it. This recording is taut, without any hint of over expression or exaggeration. The middle section is deceptively calm and calming after the outburst from the beginning, but one does not rest easy for long, with the final minutes erupting in devastating fashion.
…the achingly moving slow music at the centre of the finale that balances the terrifying cry into the abyss the movement opens with, the way Mahler paces the final climax, storming the orchestral heavens with an apotheosis of D major. Guardian
By 1896, Mahler referred to Symphony No.1 as simply “Symphony in D Major”, so as not to limit its potential meaning. Whichever nomenclature we choose, this piece is an absolutely staggering all encompassing experience. It still captures, in this recording, the freshness and excitement it has in 1889. Mahler 1 holds an eternal quality, standing on the musical shoulders of Bruckner and Beethoven, morphing these two main influences into something large and frightening. It shocked Charlotte and I to our core, leaving us both stunned and speechless for many minutes afterwards, as we drifted on a cloud down Broad Street in the dark.
Today is the second Sunday of Easter, known as Low Sunday. The Gospel reading at Mass is St Thomas doubting the resurrected Jesus in in fact the risen Lord. I have included the reading below (emphasis added). I did a post on The Incredulity of Saint Thomas by Rubens, which so moved me at the Rijksmuseum. This other masterwork was accomplished by Caravaggio. It is now in the Sanssouci Picture Gallery, in Potsdam, Germany.
Gospel John 20:19-31
In the evening of that same day, the first day of the week, the doors were closed in the room where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews. Jesus came and stood among them. He said to them, ‘Peace be with you’, and showed them his hands and his side. The disciples were filled with joy when they saw the Lord, and he said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. ‘As the Father sent me, so am I sending you.’
After saying this he breathed on them and said: ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. For those whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; for those whose sins you retain, they are retained.’ Thomas, called the Twin, who was one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. When the disciples said, ‘We have seen the Lord’, he answered, ‘Unless I see the holes that the nails made in his hands and can put my finger into the holes they made, and unless I can put my hand into his side, I refuse to believe.’ Eight days later the disciples were in the house again and Thomas was with them.
The doors were closed, but Jesus came in and stood among them. ‘Peace be with you’ he said. Then he spoke to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here; look, here are my hands. Give me your hand; put it into my side. Doubt no longer but believe.’ Thomas replied, ‘My Lord and my God!’ Jesus said to him: ‘You believe because you can see me. Happy are those who have not seen and yet believe.’
There were many other signs that Jesus worked and the disciples saw, but they are not recorded in this book. These are recorded so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing this you may have life through his name.
This 1602 painting is unquestionably a masterpiece. The risen Christ, whom we acclaim and celebrate in this Easter time, appears to St Thomas and asks him to put his hand in Jesus’ side in order to believe that he has indeed been raised form the dead. In so doing, Christ has defeated death, not only for himself but for all of the faithful. This is truly the cornerstone of the Christian faith so it was important that the artist did this moment justice. I believe he did.
You can see that St Thomas is the central figure in this painting. His strained belief can be seen by the wrinkles in his forehead. Behind him are most likely St Peter and St John the Evangelist. The lack of halo on Christ’s head emphasises his corporeal form. The Rubens painting of the same scene showed a faint glow behind Christ’s head but no halo.
There is heavy chiaroscuro throughout the painting, increasing the drama of the scene. Jesus is depicted brightly, as though the shadow is cast by light emanating from him. All of the fabric is rendered beautifully and the painting has a generally quite striking aspect. This is indeed very moving for me. Modern Christians, of course, have not seen the risen Christ. I do count myself among the number who are blessed for not seeing, and yet believing. I hope this painting helped viewers throughout the last 420 years to feel similarly moved and compelled.
I am writing on Good Friday. I was looking through my Rosary booklet, which my wonderful Charlotte provided to me when we started dating, just confirm that I had the right mystery to pray (Sorrowful Mysteries, of course). In so doing, I came across a painting by Sassoferrato which struck me.
Giovan Battista Salvi known, from his town of origin in the Marche, as Sassoferrato, shows the Madonna seated on the clouds with her feet resting on the half moon. She embraces the Child Jesus who holds in his hands a rosary that ends in a rose. Heads of cherubs rise from the clouds. The image confirms the stylistic elements that characterize his vast production of subjects of a religious nature: images of a solid formal layout with brilliant and almost enamelled colours.
This painting is strikingly clear in its composition. The colours are vivid, the way the Virgin Mary is holding onto Jesus, with such tenderness, must move even the most ardent atheist. The adoration with which the cherubs are looking at the pair is rendered beautifully. The half moon upon which she is seated is brilliant white. The rosary has become my favourite prayer and to see Jesus holding onto it, with it ending in a splendid rose, warms me. Rosary comes from the Latin rosarium, meaning “garland of roses.” The fragrance released from the beads while praying was said the please God and reinforce, therefore, one’s sincerity in prayer.
This piece also struck me because when Charlotte and I were in France for a recent holiday, we saw a painting by the same artist. We were visiting the chapel in Chenonceau and Charlotte, with her always-keen eye for religious art, spotted The Virgin with a Blue Veil on the left wall. We both spent a few minutes enjoying it and marvelling at how a painting so old could retain such vibrancy of composition and pigmentation.
Both Sassoferrato paintings struck Charlotte and I. I am glad to be able to share them with you.
Initially, we thought this was a freemasons museum. Charlotte and I were disturbed by the large unapologetic display of the Masonic Code, in actual French, no less. But, our pseudo religious cult concerns aside, this museum is a place of wonder. It exhibits the heights of human skill and contains a breathtaking array of perfect pieces, created by men and women around France.
The museum opened to the public in 1968 in the former dormitory of the monks of the Benedectine Abbey of Saint Julien (13th-18th century). It houses outstanding collections related to the compagnons of the Tour de France.
Compagnonnage dates back from the end of the Middle Ages. It is made up of societies of young workers aspiring to professional and moral development by means of a journey through France called « tour de France ».
UNESCO inscribed Compagnonnage into the List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity in 2010, thanks to their unique mean of passing down knowledge and savoir-faire linked to the trades of stone, wood, metal, copper, leather, textiles and culinary trades. Musée Compagnonnage
The wooden football
Keen readers of this blog will know I am not very hot on football. Cycling is my sport. However, one cannot fail to be stuck by the beauty of this masterwork. Rendered in wood, this is a spherical and perfect football. It must have taken the sculptor many hours to perfect this piece and I was quite taken aback by it.
L’Hospice de Beaune
The Hospices de Beaune were made out of pasta dough (20 kg) by Companion Cook des Devoirs unis Georges Bouché, “Bourguignon le Disciple de la Sainte-Baume”. The work was a prize-winning entry at the 1976 Frankfurt gastronomic competition.
This was one of the highlights for me, not least because we had watched La Grande Vadrouille the night before and the crew in the film had stopped at L’Hospice de Beaune in the film. This beautiful masterwork is made up of 20kg of pasta dough, and is an incredible copy of its namesake.
The Masterly Hand
Finally, and I know Charlotte will beat me up for this, but I have to include the hands. These were made of stone and replicate the hands of one of the aged masters and Compangnon. Now, of course I did not take a note of whose hands they were and indeed have had a rather difficult time finding this out on the internet but I find these quite beautiful. They are made of stone and the detail is breathtaking. Every wrinkle and dimple is shown is exquisite detail. Putting aside how creepy the piece is, it is most definitely a masterwork.
Now, over 1000 pieces are on display at the museum. I have chosen three highlights but encourage you to go if you are in the region. The museum is ram packed full of masterpieces and beautiful things to marvel at.
Donne’s The Flea is quite remarkable. It is a long winded and metaphysical request from Donne, to his potential suitor, to go to bed with him. Have a read of it below and see what you think:
Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is;
It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;
Thou know’st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead,
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pampered swells with one blood made of two,
And this, alas, is more than we would do.
Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, nay more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is;
Though parents grudge, and you, w’are met,
And cloistered in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that, self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.
Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail, in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it sucked from thee?
Yet thou triumph’st, and say’st that thou
Find’st not thy self, nor me the weaker now;
’Tis true; then learn how false, fears be:
Just so much honor, when thou yield’st to me,
Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.
Well, what a poem! The first stanza sets the scene, a flea has bitten both Donne and his lady friend. A flea has bitten both him and her. Their blood intermingles in the flea, therefore, why should this young lady not compromise her virtue and give in to Donne’s desires? This is the essential thrust of the poem. The blood is mingling without any effort on the part of the flea, without any courtship or wooing. The reader is bemoaning why the same cannot be said of him and his prospective lover. It is, however, ironic to me that the writer touts the maidenhead of the woman he is trying to woo, while at the same time seeking to compromise it.
The second stanza speaks to the newly sacred nature of the flea. As it has mingled the blood of the writer and his suitor, it has now assumed the role of the beloved’s marital bed. To kill it would be a travesty in view of this. Though their parents disagree, though even she disagrees, Donne has decided that they are betrothed via Fr. Flea. The flea represents itself, the poet and his lover. To kill it would be to commit triple murder, which Donne reminds his suitor is forbidden by their faith.
Finally, the last stanza. The lover has killed the flea and the writer is piling onto her. He is saying that she has lost no honour by killing the flea, therefore she should not lose any honour by yielding to his wishes. The silliness of this is evident to us the modern reader. However, this last stanza is interesting in showing the force of his pursuit of this poor woman.
Overall, I think this is a funny poem which tackles the interesting subject of the lover’s pursuit. Donne has inadvertently shown man’s pursuit of woman in this incomplete, pre-marital, way is nonsensical. Charlotte and I discussed this and she concluded that Donne is satirising man’s pursuit of the physical. Donne is using this poem to express his acknowledgment and disdain of putting bodily satisfaction over spiritual fulfilment, and does so exquisitely.
