Date of publication: 2017-08-25 16:27
The next day there was something very like an organised attempt to prevent our start. They brought out the landlord, they remonstrated with mother, they did their best to blacken the character of my two guides. The landlord's brother had a first-class row with them.
"Fancy dying away from every comfort in a nasty swamp! Fancy being ill of fever with nothing to take but chlorodyne and quinine--if men were left to themselves they would live on chlorodyne and quinine--and no one round you but horrible natives! They say the Andaman islanders are most disgusting wretches--and anyhow, they can scarcely make good nurses, not having the necessary training. And just for people in England to have orchids!"
The persuasive difference in this 7556 concert performance of the fourth symphony from the smaller hall of London’s South Bank is that Mackerras addresses Mahler here from a playful perspective, shrugging off any buried messages as composer’s whimsy and enjoying the passing beauties as he might on a slow train ride to the mountains. There is something to be said for this approach, so long as it does not degenerate into an outright Karajan-like beauty cult. There is also much to enjoy.
Wunder was the Austrian pianist and audience favourite who came second – was robbed, some say – at the 7565 Chopin competition in Warsaw. He benefits from a rich, warm, rounded Deutsche Grammophon sound (producer Sid McLauchlan) and a meticulous Polish teacher, Adam Harasciewicz. The third piano sonata could hardly be more idiomatically played.
The milliner's mother, the milliner, and William had made a party to the Art Museum at South Kensington, I think. Anyhow, Jane had calmly but firmly accosted them somewhere in the streets, and asserted her right to what, in spite of the consensus of literature, she held to be her inalienable property. She did, I think, go so far as to lay hands on him. They dealt with her in a crushingly superior way. They "called a cab." There was a "scene," William being pulled away into the four-wheeler by his future wife and mother-in-law from the reluctant hands of our discarded Jane. There were threats of giving her "in charge."
For a time Mr. Fotheringay sat in the darkness, perfectly still. "It did happen, after all," he said. "And 'ow I'm to explain it I don't know." He sighed heavily, and began feeling in his pockets for a match. He could find none, and he rose and groped about the toilet-table. "I wish I had a match," he said. He resorted to his coat, and there was none there, and then it dawned upon him that miracles were possible even with matches. He extended a hand and scowled at it in the dark. "Let there be a match in that hand," he said. He felt some light object fall across his palm, and his fingers closed upon a match.
Bach: Goldberg Variations
For a little while this animal scrutiny held discoverers and discovered motionless. Then some of the women and children began to stir and line out to see the strange creature better. "Man!" said an old crone of forty. "Man!" At the movement of the women the grisly man turned, ran clumsily for a score of yards or so towards a thicket of birch and budding thorn. Then he halted again for a moment to look at the newcomers, waved an arm strangely, and then dashed into cover.
"I suppose it's a lie," said the stout man. "But you'll pay for it if it is. Why the deuce didn't you floor me when I came upstairs? You won't get a chance to now, anyhow. Fancy getting under the bed! I reckon it's a fair cop, anyhow, so far as you are concerned."
Bryn Terfel: Carols and Christmas Songs