Day 112 – January 20th – A Gavotte and a Charleston!

This morning we were off up to London for another of William Bennett’s flute masterclasses. The repertoire was pretty standard, and the only work I hadn’t heard before was Philippe Gaubert’s Sonata No. 1. It ended up being my standout piece of the day – it’s stunning and was also played beautifully by masters student Katy Ovens. I’m rather tempted to see whether Trevor might let me have a go for the February piano masterclass!

As always, Wibb was an engaging and energetic teacher, whose use of little sung phrases (many of them rather naughty!) to show musical direction and emphasis had everyone in fits of laughter. Musical direction and musical intent were the themes of the day, and every note had to fulfill its proper place in the musical line. Expressive breathing was also key – even if a breath isn’t needed, it should be felt if the musical sentence needs it.

In the afternoon, Wibb seemed to become even more animated, breaking out into some impromptu dancing on not one but two occasions. The Allegro movement of J.S. Bach’s E major sonata was a jazzy Charleston – all the syncopation needs to be felt and played upon. Wibb’s Charleston itself was also quite impressive! Then the final work of the day was Paul Taffanel’s Mignon Fantasy, whose gavotte Wibb danced to show how light and flexible the tempo needs to feel.

Good coffee at St Pancreas Station, lunch with some lovely friends at the Royal College, and arriving home to Elmsted to find some faint traces of snow made for a nice day, though am hoping our dairy will warm up a little overnight!

Day 88 – December 27th – Thank goodness for friends

Another short one as I’m well and truly ready for bed, but suffice to say that today didn’t quite go as planned. Up at 7:30am, I went for another lovely run with my uncle, and then we had a relatively quiet morning taking stock after Christmas and farewelling Grandma who was heading back home. The Johnson grandparents rang to say that Kings Cross station was closed, but a quick check online showed that I could still get to Finsbury Park, and then use the underground to make my connection.

Though there was no hint of it in Barton (where my uncle lives), there had been snow in the north. Into Doncaster and then much of the way down to Cambridgeshire, my view out the window was of dusted fields and sparkling villages. English Christmas perfection.

Then we stopped at Peterborough, and it seemed like there were no more trains going further south – there was just too much congestion around London. All of a sudden there was total chaos, and no clue as to what was actually going on. After boarding and then getting off two trains that were cancelled, I decided to phone a friend, and the Dunks were kind enough to come to my rescue and picked me up from Huntingdon. A glass of wine and an evening of post-Christmas downtime, I was relieved not to be spending my night on an unknown station far from anywhere, and incredibly grateful they could come to my aid at a moment’s notice. Thank goodness for friends!