Finishing up

I am now three days away from leaving Edinburgh. I am sad to go, but also anxious to head off – the extended exam period is starting to wear me down (I have only one more exam to take, and I have had quite a few weeks to prepare for it and my other exams). The exchange rate also makes life a little difficult, and I feel the need to start working again. I have begun to pack up my things and say good bye to people who are leaving. In my spare time I have been using up my Moviebank card watching Sopranos episodes, and reading “The Amazing Adventures of Cavalier and Clay.” On Thursday I am flying out from Glasgow to Paris to meet Miguel and Ashley, where I will be staying for 3 nights, after which Miguel and I are off to Amsterdam. The day after returning from Amsterdam, I am going on a three day Scotland tour that a friend from Chamber Choir won in a raffle and couldn’t use, and kindly gave to me. So there is plenty to do before I actually fly to Baltimore on the 26^th, but I am ready to get going. In the past few weeks I have done some cool things as well – I finally got out to the amazing Forth Rail Bridge two weeks ago with Rae, Sarah, Anna and Eric. The bridge, which resembles a massive rust colored erector set, was constructed in 1890 and has been a symbol of Scotland ever since its completion. Being a fan of bridges and other such large manmade landmarks, it was among the first things I had intended to visit while in Scotland. We took a boat underneath the bridge, and proceeded up the Firth of Forth to beautiful Inchcolm Island – a small rocky outcrop where an old 12^th Century abbey is located, along with a lot of aggressive nesting seagulls. We also had a picnic on meadows a few weeks ago, and I am hoping to do a final Indian food blow-out either Tuesday or Wednesday to properly end a semester that has been filled with curries and lentils. Things are closing up, and I am ready to get back, but it has been an amazing semester. The calm of Edinburgh has been extremely refreshing – specifically the beautiful city / surroundings and the more laid back academic atmosphere. Even though I like the US education system better- it is more structured – my classes have been worthwhile. Composition pushed me in some directions, and the seminar of Wagner was quite interesting, even if Wagner is a completely deranged wildman (perhaps that kept it entertaining). Chamber Choir (we had our final concert – a benefit – last week) has been one of the best musical things I have ever done – very high standards, excellent repertoire, and fun people. I have also had quite a good time with everyone I have met here, both the Americans and the local UK folk. I know that I will see a number of the Americans I have met here when I go back to the states, and I am hoping that some of the UK locals will drop in as well. My travels – around Scotland, to London, and to Spain – have also been most excellent, and I think my time here has given me more of a desire to travel. I may even take up a new language or start German again next year at Columbia (Id forgotten how cool languages really are). Never the less, I still feel as if I am most at home in the US. Sometimes people seem to feel more at home abroad, but I don’t think that has been the case with me. Perhaps that is because I have romanticised America for too long – “the plains” and all that sort of ridiculousness. I think Aaron Copland is at least partially to blame ;). The UK is also something like an alternate reality United States – the differences are real, but generally quite rather subtle (accents, expressions, humor, history – well history is a big one but still…). Anyways I guess that’s about it – I am really glad I decided to come abroad, and Edinburgh was an excellent choice. I do hope that I will be back someday, especially to see the famous Edinburgh Festival, which is happening in August and which I will unfortunately have to miss. Its nice to know that I will know people in Edinburgh at least for the next few years.

(brief) Return to America

Last week I left Scotland for a brief return to Columbia and the City of New York. Whew – it was a whirlwind tour – I left Edinburgh early in morning on Thursday and returned early Monday. I cannot say I would recommend such a trip – I spent half the time in New York zonked out and confused, but seeing friends and rehearsing with the Bach Society kept me awake and semi alert. On the plane I spent most of the time reading David Mitchel’s “Cloud Atlas” – a crazy novel from 2004 set in six different historical and future epochs and that the story of six completely different characters. While approaching New York, I was reading the two parts of the novel set in dystopic future earths, which never fails to make me depressed, but I looked down and saw big houses, wide highways, and yellow school buses crawling along beneath me, and I suddenly felt better. Big, crazy America – awesome! After I arrived I promptly took the public bus to Newark Penn Station and then the PATH train into the city (I recommend this highly cost effective means of getting from Newark to Manhattan). There are two things that struck me immediately. 1 – New York is so diverse! I had forgotten how many different kinds of people there are in America, especially New York City. After the mostly white and occasionally Indian or Arab population of Scotland, America’s diversity was suddenly extremely vivid. 2 – New York is so gray! While it was a beautiful, sunny weekend in the city, I realized how used I have become happily used to the verdant coloUrs of the UK. In Edinburgh, my flat sits on the edge of a bright green golf course, while the hunter and brown hulk of Arthurs Seat and the Crags lumbers up above the surrounding landscape. New York is so concrete – I am sure I will miss the foliage of Edinburgh when I return. The weekend itself was quite enjoyable – I saw all the usual Columbia suspects, and spent a night in Mark’s room and two nights over in Plimpton with Laura Mericle, who kindly donated her air mattress to my cause. My parents were in town as well. At one point, during lunch my parents at Café de Soleil, I wondered for a few seconds why CNN and not the BBC was being played on the television. The reason for my return was to hear my piece “Tremors: A Report” performed by the Bach Society. The concert, on Saturday night, went very well – a few mishaps with missing orchestral parts, but other than that, the piece sounded great and it was clear that everyone involved had put in a lot of time and effort. After the concert on Saturday night, Laura, Maeve and Rachel Arky hosted a party in their suite. I had brought some classy Scotch and a bottle of Irn Bru back from Scotland for everyone to try. I spent the first half an hour trying to convince people to enjoy the “national soda of Scotland,” but by the end of night there was still plenty of Irn Bru to go around. The Scotch, meanwhile, required no extra effort on my part to be taken care of. I returned to Newark airport Sunday evening after a long trip via sketchy Newark Penn Station, and managed to clear the horrific security lines in time to catch my flight. For the past few days, I have been sleeping a lot (I think the trip tired me out), and enjoying the spring time weather, which is simply wonderful. Eventually I need to start “revising” for finals, but I feel as if my studies are all over (coming home to NYC didn’t help), and the weather is great, that reading about Wagner and music history is proving difficult.

The rain in Spain DID fall mostly on the plain!

On Saturday I got back from an amazing week in Spain. I began my voyage to Espana at Edinburgh airport (or should I say “Edimburgo” – Im not sure where the Spanish got that “m” from), where I caught the Easyjet to Madrid. Upon my arrival, I was greeted by Don Lopez. My flight arrived late, so we decided to save money and spend the entire night out in Madrid, and then check in to our hostel in the morning. I don’t necessarily recommend this plan of action. We hit up some bars in Madrid, and wandered around the city until the wee hours. Unfortunately, our hostel (staffed by a ridiculous Frenchman), wouldn’t let us check in until 1PM, so we were pretty tired by the end of it. Over the next few days we toured Madrid – the gardens, the Prado, some cathedrals, and took a day trip to the lovely but tourist infested Toledo. At night we went out to various bars in the vicinity of the hostel. To save money, we mostly ate boccadillos (crusty – bread sandwiches) and McDonalds. Madrid is a fun city, but there is something tiring about it – perhaps it is the grandiose design of the city – its broad and monumental avenues, ornate nineteenth century architecture, and wide and open parks. After the third night, we caught a bus to the remote region of Extremadura (or as I like to say, Xtremadura) in the far west of the country. The bus ride, according to Miguel, was a classic example of travel in Spain. At one point, as we traversed the rugged, empty terrain of the countryside, an angry Spaniard leapt from his seat and began speaking wildly to all the passengers. Apparently the bus hadn’t stopped at the town where he had bought a ticket to get off at, and he had decided to let everyone on the bus know about this great injustice. Miguel’s Spanish saved the day (as it would many times – I know about 3 words) when the guy accosted us and asked Miguel to read his ticket stub (to prove that the bus driver had made a mistake, and should be fired). The angry gentleman finally left, and we arrived safely in the small town of Trujillo, where we were to spend the night. Trujillo is a real gem – a picturesque village of medieval buildings that clamber up a low rocky outcrop. Our hostel was right in the center of town – the wide and gracious Plaza Mayor, the centrepiece of which is an equestrian statue of the conquistador Pizarro, a native of Trujillo. We spent the day wandering about the city, the highlights of which included the old castle, and the cathedral belltower, which afforded breathtaking views of the expansive countryside surrounding the town. I also had a very mysterious soup for lunch that day, which I believe included a cooked cow’s tongue (that I unfortunately bit into - it was bristly). The next day we caught a bus to the Extremaduran city of Merida, the former capital of Roman Spain. Merida is a bustling little regional center of some 40,000 people. The main attractions for tourists are the town’s extensive Roman ruins. After visiting the local Roman Museum, we visited a large Roman arch which had functioned as a gateway to the city in days of old, and a nicely preserved temple (which people had lived in until the mid 1970s!) The most impressive ruins were those of two Roman aqueducts, which we admired as we made our way back to the bus station. That evening we arrived in Seville – Miguel’s home base. My whole stay in Seville was quite wonderful. I was immediately impressed by Miguel’s host mother – Salud – a vivacious little lady of about 60 who had the energy of someone much younger. She was kind enough to cook for Miguel and myself while I was staying in her apartment. It was Holy Week – Semana Sanata – while I was in Seville, so the streets were packed with people. I spent my Passover watching the most Catholic celebration I have seen in my life! The first night we went out to watch the parades, in which long lines of hooded penitents walk through the narrow streets, followed by two campos – large floats (carried by about 40 extra strong men) atop which sit ornate wooden statues of Christ and the Virgin, surrounded by seas of candles and burning incense. These campos are followed by brass bands, which play very slow and solemn music as they march behind the parade. Sometimes the parade would stop, and a canto singer (a type of solo singing unique to Spain which involves a lot of vibrato and impassioned hand gestures) would sing to the hushed crowd from a balcony above the parade route. The whole affair was extremely atmospheric – I have never seen anything quite like it. We spent much of my time in Seville watching the Holy Week parades – the only disadvantage was that they often blocked main avenues in the city, making it difficult to get around. When not watching parades, Miguel and I wandered about Seville, which has an atmosphere all its own. Although Miguel protested against this comparison, I found the city to be suggestive of Africa, with its Muslim influenced architecture, wild, narrow streets, and palm – filled gardens. We also hung out with Miguel’s friends from his program, who were all most excellent. Salud’s cooking was another highlight – probably the best food I had in Spain. The irony of the trip was that when I returned to Edinburgh on Saturday, the weather was warmer that it had been a number of the days I was in Spain (and I my title indicates, there were some unexpected rainstorms)! Regardless it was a wonderful trip – I have been inspired to learn a language again (I think I will be getting back to German).

End of Semester!

Yesterday was the last day of classes – I handed in my two 3000 word essays (the only required projects up to this point), and that was that. Woah. Im not really sure when the semester happened. Compared to the American system, there is a lot less contact / in class time in the UK. My three classes - Music History, Wagner Seminar, and Composition - met twice a week, once a week, and every other week respectively. There was also a lot less work, so the semester just seemed to breeze by. The UK system leaves the amount of work you complete up to your own discretion - the teachers hand out generalized reading lists, and leave it at that. This approach has its advantages, but I think the American system pushes you harder. The standout classes were Wagner Seminar and Composition, both smallish third year courses, while History was a large second year lecture. The teacher for Wagner seminar was this badass young Irish woman with an endearing habit of pronouncing “myth” as “mit,” and whokept the class pretty lively. Wagner was a total asshole (read “Judaism in Music” – actually don’t read it), and I think his music is pretty awfully, but he is just crazy enough to be interesting to study. The very long DVD screenings we had of Wagner’s operas (the longest takes 3 days to perform) – were bearable only because of snacks and wine. Wagner seminar was also the most “American in style,” and most of the students here seemed to regard it as the most difficult. Composition was good because my tutor – who I unfortunately got to see only every other week, told me to “stop writing like an American!” and pushed me in some new directions. I have been trying to listen to a lot of European and UK music while I have been over here. I have to turn in a portfolio of compositions (Bach Soc. piece and a wind quintet) at the end of April. So that’s it for academics – I have two exams in May, and an additional presentation for Wagner Seminar at the end of April. To celebrate the end of classes, I made some chicken tikka and Indian rice (came out most excellently – thanks Laxmi) on Thursday. Afterwards Mads, Anna, Katy, and I played Kings and watched “Little Britain” – a popular comedy show that pokes fun at various contemporary British stereotypes. Most of the show seems to involve the two main actors getting decked out with fat suits and fake bad teeth (or maybe they are real?) and acting as unpleasant as possible. It is oddly fascinating. Yesterday Annabel and Katy hosted a big party at their flat, and most all of the usual suspects were in attendance. Good times. Last week I went with Chamber Choir to St. Andrews – a small university town across the Firth of Forth in the Kingdom of Fife. What great names. St. Andrews (the Uni where Prince William attended) is a very strange place indeed – all the students were red capes (Transylvanian count style), and the way the cape is worn indicates whether its wearer is a first, second, third, or fourth year student. Some people were walking around with the cape appearing to be falling off – but apparently that just means they are seniors. With its capes, isolated location and gothic campus, the whole thing felt quite Harry Potter. The town - a collection of small, quaint buildings, nestled up against the ocean – is quite tiny, but very clean and attractive. The landscape is dominated by a giant ruined cathedral (the former seat of the Kirk of Scotland) and an old castle, both of which sit atop rocky cliffs overlooking the sea. The day we went was cold and moody (as Scotland often seems to be), with the sun occasionally breaking out through dark clouds to illuminate the bright blue sea, rocky headlands, and distant snowy mountains. I had fish and chips lunch with the choir at a pub, and we spent the day walking about the town. At 5PM we performed a concert of music from the previous semester (I was mostly sight reading) to a very small audience in a beautiful old chapel run by the Uni. Later that evening, we had a very good time at the home of some friends of the choir director (the ever ridiculous but excellent Eric von Ibler), who were kind enough to provide us with various fried treats and white wine. Speaking of fried things – last week I had a complete English breakfast (tomato-y baked beans required) at a restaurant with Jack and Andrew. The main purpose of this breakfast - I had had a very delicious English Breakfast for Courntey’s birthday in early March - was to try “blood pudding,” which we had not partaken of at Courtney’s birthday. The pudding looks harmless enough – like black hash brown, and tastes like some familiar fried food that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. However, the thought of its contents were too much for me and I couldn’t really eat it. So much for being an adventurous eater – yesterday I downed an entire box of delicious Jaffa Cakes (spongy cake with orange jelly covered in chocolate), which was much more to my liking. Anyways I guess that’s all for now – next week my dad is coming in for a few days (up from a physics conference in London), and then Im off to Spain to visit Don Lopez.

PS - sorry about lack of pictures - my computer has problems. I have posted all pictures on facebook.

Ghosts and essays

The past week or so I have been somewhat busy writing two 3000 word essays for classes: one about Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony and the other about two of Richard Wagner’s operas. Both are due next Friday. Between listening to Beethoven and reading Wagner’s completely ridiculous writings (Wagner really needs to stop), a few exciting things have happened. The most notable was probably the Chamber Choir concert on Saturday. It has really been a pleasure singing with the Chamber Choir – the standard is extremely high and the music we do is quite difficult. The concert went quite well – we didn’t get out of tune in places that had been problematic in rehearsals, and we got an excellent review in one of the local newspapers. Im sad that I will be missing the group’s tour to Malta in July, but we will be going to Saint Andrew’s (college town north of Edinburgh) this weekend to do another concert. After the Chamber Choir concert we celebrated Anna and Courtney’s birthdays with a very classy “posh party,” which required little preparation on my part because I was already wearing my classy new old suit. Two days ago I went on the “Edinburgh Ghost Tour” with Cindy and Rachel. Apparently, Edinburgh is one of the most “haunted cities in Europe” – its old stone architecture and rambling alleyways are certainly suggestive of ghostly goings on. Knowing my tolerance for horror movies, I was a little concerned about this expedition. This particular ghost tour went down into the abandoned vaults beneath the concealed bridge over the Cowgate. Apparently very poor people used to live in these lightless chambers back in days yore before they were finally sealed off sometime in the nineteenth century. I actually wish the tour had given us a little bit more of the city / area’s history – the guide mostly told us stories of the various supernatural encounters experienced by customers on the tour, the worst of which involve a ghost named “Mr. Boots” who smells like whisky and leather and pushes people in the dark when they least expect it. So yeah the ghost tour wasn’t too scary. Yesterday I hung out with Aditi Chakravarty, a Barnardite senior whom I know through voice lessons and Bach Society. Aditi was visiting friends from her junior year study abroad program in Australia who are now in Edinburgh. We had lunch at a Thai place (the Scots are very good with Indian and Thai food, but for some reason they make Chinese food very bland), and then walked to the Royal Scottish Gallery, where we hung out for a little while. IN the evening, I made curry with Rachel and Marie Clare, and enjoyed some delicious Orange Hobnobs, which I am going to miss very much upon my return (Americans just don’t have an equivalent to British biscuits). So that’s been the main excitement – I had a mild moment of culture shock the other day when I was talking to Andy from Chamber Choir and learned that the place that he works at – Ladbrokes (they are all over the place) – is not the electronics store I had though it was (lots of TVs inside), but rather a betting agency! Andy’s first college job was working as a bookie! Pretty badass.

Apologies for not having made a post in a while – my internet went down, and so Ive had to trek out to the library to do all my computing for the past few days. Things have indeed been rather eventful – The Musicians Ball, Miguel’s visit, and Anna’s birthday. I’ll take things in order – two Fridays ago was the Musicians Ball, where most all of the music students at Edinburgh Uni gather in black tie attire for food, alcohol, and ceiled dancing / club cheese (seemingly the most popular type of music in Edinburgh). Needless the say, the black tie presented a challenge, especially considering how Ive been borrowing formal wear for the past 2.5 years like a major piece of trash. So I decided to bite the bit and invest in a suit. I went bargain hunting and found an awesome 40 pound black dinner jacket and trousers at a vintage used clothes store called Armstrongs, but the vintage shirts there were rather worse for wear. I ended up spending more on a fancy shirt and a bow tie / cumberbund set from a place called Jenners then I did on the suit, but whatever – it will all last me for the next couple years at least. If only the exchange wasn’t so bad…but such is life. The affair itself was quite pleasant – I chatted with the usual musical suspects, and enjoyed some ceiled-ing. Unfortunately, I didn’t understand any of the in-joke “awards” they gave out to graduating fourth-years (no-one understands the whole freshman – sophomore- junior thing), but it fun anyways, and the night closed around 3AM with some delicious (in that gross way) kebabs from one of the Edinburgh versions of Koronets or Pinnacle.

Last Wednesday I went down to Edinburgh Turnhouse Airport (love the name) to pick up non other than Don Lopez, whom I nearly walked straight into while I looked distractedly sideways at the Scot Airways ticket counter. We went to a pub and had some haggis, and the next day set out early for the Isle of Arran, located south of Glasgow in the Firth of Clyde. The trip, which involved 2 trains and a ferry, took only about three hours total, but upon arrival we felt a world away. The Caledonian MacBrayne ferry dropped us off in a small little village called Brodick, which I gather is the sort of “capital” of the island. It was really quite sleepy, and there weren’t many people about. Coming during the off-season meant, I gather, that the pace of life was even slower than it would be during the spring and summer months. We had Coronation Chicken sandwiches (which made a big impression on Miguel), and then walked around the town a bit. Next we walked along the beach to the Arran Brewery, where the proprietress gave us a sample of some of their products. Having arrived without a car, and thus relying on the very infrequent bus service around the island, we ran back from the brewery just in time to catch a bus to our hotel in Catacol. The bus rides we took over the next two days gave us an excellent over view of Arran – mostly empty, with high, ragged mountains in the north part and rolling hills in the south. Our hotel was a small homey place located next to the water in a little town that seemed to consist of about three buildings. The owners had lots of friendly petable dogs lying about, and it seemed to be a hang out for some of the local Scots, who got rather boisterous and loud later in the evening while we sat upstairs watching Scottish television (they have a penchant for really scary public service announcements) and Alien II (scary!). The next morning Miguel and I set out to see the sights of Arran, starting with Lochranza Castle, which was about a 15 minute walk from the hotel. The whole place seemed stereotypically Scottish – the castle was a half ruined tower standing next to a small bay around which lay the sleepy village of Lochranza. The sheep aimlessly wandering about helped perfect the ambience. Next we hopped on the bus again (which, it being early morning, was doubling as the local schoolbus) and went down to Machrie Moor, where the friendly bus driver dropped us off at a sheep gate and told us to walk across a big empty field to reach the celebrated standing stones of Machrie Moor. After about 20 muddy minutes, we came to them – giant weathered liths dating from 2500 BC that stand silently in a rolling, open moor in the middle of the island. It was a pretty evocative place, complete with rolling clouds, brooding mountains, and empty moorland. We hung out on the moor for a while, and then took an epic hour long walk down the road from the moor to the seaside village of Blackwaterfoot, where we caught a bus back to Brodick and the ferry. We were quite lucky – it only started raining as we boarded the ferry back to the mainland. Miguel didn’t get to spend too much time in Edinburgh itself, but the visit was most excellent. I am excited about going to Spain at the end of the month!

Yesterday was Anna’s birthday, which we celebrated by eating Scottish Chinese food – which is rather like American, but somehow a little less flavorful I think – and then watching an amazingly bad movie called “Gladiatress” while eating tasty cake and drinking wine. Things are starting to get a little busy here as I have 2 3000 word essays due (one on Wagner and one on Beethoven) on March 23. Also – I will be returning to the US on April 19 to hear the Columbia Bach Society perform my piece ‘Tremors: A Report” at their Spring Concert at St. Paul’s Chapel on the 21rst. I hope people can come to this! I am really excited about it and looking forward to seeing CU folks!

Birthday / London

This past week contained a couple of exciting happenings – my birthday on Thursday, and a trip to London to see Rosalind at Kings College who was also celebrating her birthday. The week was somewhat defined by things having frustrating beginnings that turned out well in the end – my birthday began with a failed attempt to book a train to the island of Arran for when Miguel comes to visit, after which I battled it out with Finale for a few hours in a frantic effort to finish my Bach Society piece for an upcoming rehearsal. I finally did finish around 4PM (woot – at least that is finally done), and round about 6PM Jack, Annabel, Katie, Anna, Cindy, Rachel, and myself departed for Kushi’s – a posh but not overly expensive Indian place that was recommended to me by Anna 2 and Corinne. Kushi’s was a pretty nice treat – it is set in an old converted church, and is adorned with ridiculously big chandeliers and large potted plants. The food was quite nice as well – a little heavy (the Housewife’s cookbook keeps things lite) – but very satisfying. Afterwards we retreated back to Warrender where we decided to rent a movie and drink some materials. It being my birthday, it was my movie choice, and on a whim I decided on “Sideways.” My dad had been rambling about “Sideways” for a while after it came out (“it caused a big spike in the price of Pinot!”), and Paul Giamatti reminds me of my cool older cousin Tim, who is a pro violinist. Not very good reasons to watch it perhaps, but it was a decent movie. The characters were funny enough, and it makes California look absolutely beautiful. Anyways, the plan was eventually to go out clubbing, but it got rather late and most everyone decided to head off. Jack and I, however, decided to continue the night, and met up with Courtney and Hannah at a club called Medina near the uni. We drank perhaps a little too much, and did a little dancing (Medina is a hip hop oriented club), until the club closed at 3. 5 Hours later I was up again and on my way to Edinburgh station, where I had to catch the 10:30 train to London. Aside from feeling pretty woozy at the outset of the journey, everything was going well, until I realized that I had forgotten my Young Person’s Railcard and I had accidently brought “Sideways” with me (it was rented from an hourly movie place). Things only got worse when the train arrived in Peterborough (1 hour north of London) where we were told that there were electrical problems on the railway, and that there was another train heading back north if we wanted to catch it. This did not bode well – 2 hours later I boarded a bus, where I sat next to some very entertaining girls from northern England who were very nice but also very difficult to understand – they were fond of saying that things were “fab,” or “mint,” and used “me’ in place of “my” and “lad” for “guy” and other such things. Anyways I finally got to London after about 4 hours, met Rosalind, Ashley, and Kendall at Kings, and promptly accompanied them and some British friends of Rosalind’s to a club somewhat like Medina in another part of London. The next day Ashley, Ros, Kendall and I went and had lunch at a delicious tea and sandwich shop in a sort of indie-ish neighborhood called Camdentown, and then went to walk around Regents Park. My friend Max, who is spending the year at Cambridge, also met us up. We dropped by the British Museum briefly (got to see the wonderful Rosetta Stone and the Elgin Marbles), but it was closing, so we were soon headed back to Rosalind’s for her birthday celebrations, which were to be held at the small and friendly student run bar located in the King’s College dorms. The bar did not disappoint, and Rosalind was subjected to a slightly watered down version of a Kings College birthday tradition in which the birthday guy / girl has to down an obscene amount of gin in very short period of time, while onlookers sing a traditional “gin song.” Anyways it was good times (and Ros did very well), and the next day we woke up late, went to lunch, and then I headed off to catch the 3PM train back to Edinburgh. It was really good to see Ros, Ashley, and Max again – everyone seems to be doing quite well, and being abroad has certainly given all of us new perspectives (some favorable and others not) on Columbia and the past few years of school. The general sentiment seems to be that Columbia is better academically, but worse socially than the UK. Although I wasn’t in London long, my impression was positive – it resembles New York in its size, multiculturalism (although there seems to be more of an African and Arab presence there than in NYC), and hustle and bustle, but it is also more spread out and in some ways felt more livable than New York – perhaps that is a function of the reduced density. I hope to go back before I leave.

Happy Birthday to Rosalind!

The English country side from the GNER train.

Expect the unexpected

Observe the snow, which fell early last week! It is the first snow I have seen fall in Edinburgh since I arrived. This is the view from my window. I spent the entire week in Edinburgh, which actually hasn’t been the case for a while. I have been out and about traveling around outside the city proper for the past 2 weekends, so it was nice just to stick around “old reeky” and take it easy. The week got off to a good start when American expatriate composer Frederick Rzewski gave a presentation to the university music students. He played a sprawling hour long piece for solo piano which requires the pianist (in this case, Rzewski himself, who is an impressive performer) to play, speak, and occasionally even hit the piano. The texts were also written by Rzewski, and consisted of a series of unrelated quasi – philosophical musings about creativity, art in politics, and war. Rzewski’s well known Leftist politics were made pretty clear by the texts he had written and his responses in the Q&A that followed, but he surprised me on a couple of points. From his reputation, I expected someone resembling musician activitists from the pop world – energetic, full of ideas about changing the world, and trying to get people excited about what they are going to accomplish. Instead, Rzewski declared that he believed that it was highly unlikely that political art would change anything at all. He spoke pessimistically about the role of art in politics, although he said briefly that he felt it was important to try and change things, because one never knows what might happen. I suppose it was his quiet pessimism, lack of flashiness, and nonchalance about the subject that surprised me, coming from a composer who is especially known for works that so often deal with charged political matters. It was as if the whole political element to his music was highly personal, and not much else – that isn’t something I am used to in politically minded art. Rzewski also had some interesting things to say about improvisation vs. composition. He spoke a lot about the immediate disappearance of spontaneity when a piece gets notated, and conversely the need for some sort of organizing principle to improvise effectively. I guess what ended up being most interesting about this was the idea that good music can provide people with something that we seek in our own personal lives – a balance of the expected and familiar and the new and novel. Anyways…enough musical rambling. On Friday Rachel, Cindy and I used our “historic Scotland” passes that Arcadia gave us to go up to Edinburgh Castle, which (again) wasn’t exactly what I had expected. The castle itself is pretty cool – an eclectic mix of buildings dating as far back as the 9th century, but it has been commercialized to the point of losing some of its atmosphere. My favorite example of this was the cheesy informative placards (or whatever they are called) that caps locked and bolded words like MURDERED and PERISHED whenever they needed to be written out for historical explanations. The gift shops and toilets that occupied many of the historic looking buildings didn’t help much either, nor did the pre-recorded lute music they had playing in one of the old castle rooms. Still, castles are pretty cool to begin with, and the view out over the city is impressive. On the way back we got dinner at an odd place called "Chocolate Soup," where the signature dish is - yes - a chocolate soup that resembles some kind of thick hot chocolate. On Saturday Jack, Anna, and I decided to get better acquainted with some parts of Edinburgh that we hadn’t yet visited, so we went down to the old port of the city in a neighborhood called Leith. Yet again, this wasn’t what I had exactly expected – the place actually reminded me a lot of Norfolk, VA. We ended up at a giant shopping mall alongside the waterfront (a grimy commercial shipping port) where there wasn’t too much to see besides shipping cranes and a rotting pier. There weren’t even any fisherman, or at least a burly Scottish longshoreman! Oh well – we walked around the neighborhood for a while, which was shabbier than the area we stay in (I think “Trainspotting” was filmed in Leith), and along the way happened upon the home of a “bagpipe maker,” which was awesome (see picture). That night I went with my friend from high school Mathieu (who I randomly ran into at a pub a few weeks ago, and who attends Edinburgh Uni after moving back to Europe my junior year) to his “second favorite pub in Edinburgh’ (his first favorite was too packed with rugby fans who had just finished watching the Wales vs. Scotland match) where I had a most tasty Steak and Ale pie. Next week I have off for reading week, and this coming weekend I am going to London!

Some shots of Edinburgh Castle and Leith.

Adventures, cont.

The past two weekends have largely been spent outdoors exploring the Scottish Countryside. Two weekends ago I went with people from my program to a place called Firbush – an outdoor center run by the University of Edinburgh located in the central Highlands (or “Trossacks,” I believe) on the shores of Loch Tay. This is the region of the fabled Rob Roy (whose grave we actually visited), and where the Scottish tribes battled it out against in the English in the days before the Brits completely gained the upper hand. The area certainly did have a palpable ambience – snow capped, rocky peaks, low, green fertile valleys, and dark mossy forests. We arrived Friday night, and spent Saturday on a hillwalk through the surrounding landscape. It was quite muddy, and it became very cold at higher elevations, but the scenery, complete with grazing sheep for good measure, made it all worth it. Saturday night we were treated to a proper “Burns Supper” – a special meal held to honor the national bard of Scotland, Robert “Rabbie” Burns, who penned such classic lines as “my love is like a red red rose,” “The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,” and the words to “Auld lang syne.” A Burns Night celebration consists of eating a tasty haggis along with mashed potatoes and turnips, complete with a ceremonious reading of his poem “To a Haggis.” The poem, addressed to the “great chieftain o’ the puddin’ race,” contains such lines as “trenching your gushing entrails bright…O what a glorious sight / warm, reekin, rich!” I lost my haggis virginity (it tastes better than it smells) on the actual Burns Night at a smaller celebration held by a friend from Chamber Choir, where I ended up reading “To a haggis” aloud in my awful American accent because non of the other people there (including 3 Scots) wanted to do it! Anyways…the Burns Supper at Firbush was done with far more pomp and circumstance, complete with a haggis rolled in on a platter and heralded by a startling loud performance on the Highland Pipes. The pipes are truly an awesome instrument – the sheer volume and force of the sound is really overwhelming – its not surprising that it was originally an instrument used in war. After the dinner, everyone from my program (about 30 of us) did some Ceilidh dancing – traditional Scottish dancing that is quite fun and seems to be designed to work better the drunker you are. The next day, I went on another hike to a hill closer to the center, and then biked around the small town of Killin nearby (see pictures).
This past weekend, some friends and I went on a day long hike in the nearby Pentland Hills sponsored by the Edinburgh University Student Festival. The Pentlands are very close to the city (a short ride on a Lothian bus from the center of town), but feel a world away. They are a low and rocky group of hills that rise up from the peaceful surrounding farmland, and afford great views of Edinburgh and its environs from their peaks. The fact that Edinburgh is a busy and fun city, but also has lots of good outdoorsy things nearby, is one of its primary virtues as a city. You can do lots of things in Edinburgh – go to concerts, clubs, etc., but its never too hard to take a break from the city for a day and spend some time out in the country.

The hills near Firbush, on Saturday.

Firbush itself.

A stream in the hills.

The Pentland Hills.

The church where Rob Roy is buried.

Vertical Limit, Scottish Edition

Every time I walked outside and saw Arthur’s Seat (see below) I knew I had to climb it as soon as possible. As I told one of my friends, who told me to stop being obnoxiously poetic, it was beckoning me. Trouble is that Scotland is a cold, wet and windy place, so I didn’t want to be on top of an 800 ft. mountain when a rain / wind / hail storm started. So I was waiting for the right opportunity. Saturday morning began much as many other Scottish mornings have – driving rain blowing across the golf links outside my window, but, sure enough, by noon things had cleared up. Some friends and I had talked of making the trek up to the top the other day, so the forces were rallied – myself, Cindy, Rachel, Jack, Anna, and Katie, and we decided to go for it. Before we went, we decided we should have some additional company, in the form of biscuits (UK “digestive” cookies which are really damn good, and filling too), and a bottle of “The Famous Grouse” (the name, the very regal looking grouse on the bottle, and saying “Id like to have a visit with the grouse” bring me joy), which is apparently “Scotland’s Favorite Whiskey.” So we were quite prepared. The mountain itself didn’t take long to reach, and although there seemed to be a number of paths leading towards the summit, we opted for the especially dramatic looking one that cut across a sheer rocky face in a rapid ascent to the top. It took us maybe 45 minutes walking up steep steps, and some rocky paths to reach the summit. Once we were there, and paused to have refreshments, we really noticed the wind. It was somewhat like Hurricane Isobel, except that there weren’t trees falling down and I was on top of a mountain in Scotland instead of cowering in my house. At times it was a little difficult to walk, and some of the girls said they were nearly blown over. I had a good time running face first into the blasting wind and feeling like I was about to take off or something (I would like that I suppose ;) ) From above, I was again struck by the architectural “feel” of Edinburgh – the old, weather beaten stone buildings alongside the somewhat grim modern / 60s era office towers and apartments give it a kind of harshness that is difficult to describe. Maybe the winter light contributes to that as well. You can see that it was by no means completely sunny, and as beautiful as it was to watch dark clouds begin to creep over the sun, we were already really cold and a rainstorm would not be a pleasant event to experience on Arthur’s Seat. The climb down was a little more difficult (see pictures), but there weren’t any real problems. I did miss having Nick Christie-Blick there pausing every few seconds to comment about the geology – Im sure he would have loved the place. We reached the bottom just as the rain started, and went and had a long late lunch at the Palmyra Kebob House, whose falafel, I contend, is far superior to Amir’s. The Indian and middle eastern food here seems to be better than it is at home in general, and there are far more Arabs and Africans in Edinburgh than I have noticed in New York. That reminds me – people in the UK seem to be generally much more pro-Palestinian than they are at Columbia (I guess considering that I am speaking of Columbia, that should come as no surprise), but I have certainly noticed it. Edinburgh University has a prominent pro Palestinian group, (Im not sure where the Jews are hangin out…) and the issue has come up a couple of times in places I would not have expected it to do so in the states. While its not a big deal, the different perspective from the one I am used to is interesting. That’s all for now…

I spent a significant portion of my last post talking about the weather, but Im not quite done with my insights about the Scottish climate. First of all, it turns out that palm trees are actually not that unusual in Scotland, especially on the coast, because of the wet atmosphere and warm water. I spotted one trying to hide behind a hedge on the south side of the city, but it couldn’t escape:

Also, one of the most striking things about the northerliness of Edinburgh is the fact that the sun stays quite noticeably low in the horizon – the light at noon looks like the night at 9AM in New York. I keep thinking its early in the day when its not, or late in the day when it isn’t – the sun just keeps hanging out at about 30 degrees above the horizon. Craziness. Enjoy the following picture of a typical Edinburgh type scene I took on a long walk around my neighborhood. During this walk, I discovered that the UK love affair with mayonnaise is something you really have to watch out for – I ordered a chicken salad sandwich at a pleasant little place on the south side of the city only to receive a roll filled with chicken chunks swimming in mayo. Mmm.

This is my flat! The orange building on the left:

Speaking of food, I have been on this pretty big Indian food kick here in Scotland. The Indian here is better, cheaper and more plentiful than it is back home, I’ll take curried veggies over chicken and mayonnaise any day. My Indian habit has been further justified by the fact that I am convinced that Indian food is the most tasty vegetarian food, and I have been trying to eat more healthily here than I do at Columbia. Throw in a little inspiration from “Interpreter of Maladies” and the fact that lentils and vegetables are quite cheap (maybe even more than spaghetti!), and you can see how this all began. I invested in a bunch of spices and this awesome cookbook:



And I am hoping to become a pretty good cook (especially Indian, but otherwise as well) by the end of the semester.
Hmm oh yeah – I had a really great time the other night after Chamber Choir rehearsal at a club called the “Liquid Rooms.” Fairly cheap drinks and lots of good dancing music (if my pop music knowledge was in good working order Id say what it was) – really enjoyed it. Im not sure how clubs are in New York, but this place was pretty snazzy – mostly college aged people, and everyone dancing like crazy while green lights flashed around and a dry ice machine pumped fog into the room. Good times – I hope I’ll have more to report after this weekend, which I plan to divide between reading about Wagner, orchestrating for Bach Society, and maybe doing something in the city during the day.

Windswept indeed!

My first week at “uni” has come to end, and I have realized that a lot has happened. What this means for my blog is that instead of the original plan to make big, sweeping posts every week, I will try to make smaller ones at a faster rate and hope for the best (shout out of thanks to experienced blogger and fellow American in Edinburgh Cindy for this suggestion – I was getting carried away!).

A word about the weather - Scotland is Halloween. Remember the ‘it was a dark and stormy night” line that opened up some story that used to scare you when you were a kid? Well that dark and stormy night happens a lot in Scotland (at least it did last week), complete with a big castle, driving rain, and literally howling wind. Living where I do way out in Warrender (the ex-elementary school, now dorm, where I live), it takes me a while to walk home from visiting people, and I have gotten quite a taste of the dramatic weather. It is easy to see why people like to hang out in the warm and friendly pub all night, especially in winter. I also battled it out with elements this weekend, when Cindy, Rachel and I decided to take a trip to visit the Firth of Forth Bridge (yes a bridge – but a really cool and weird looking bridge – check it out: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forth_Bridge_(railway)).

My directions were no good, so we missed the bridge (I will get there eventually!) and found ourselves at a small coastal village named Cramond, which ended up being really cool. The island that you see below is only accessible at low tide when the long causeway leading out to it is exposed, and it is home to lots of rocks, birds, and some old WWII fortifications.

Apparently you have to careful going out there, because the tide can change in 15 minutes and leave you stranded in the freezing Firth of Forth! The freezing Firth of Forth! (its sounds cool enough to say twice). Anyways it was a beautiful spot and a good adventure – just as we got out to the island, it started raining, and by the time we left, the wind was driving rain into our faces and we were completely soaked. We eventually found our way to (where else!) the local pub, where some mushroom and leek soup made everything better. Later that evening, my flatmates had a post-christmas party, which was most enjoyable. My flatmate Courtney had recently returned from Finland, and so she brought back lots of tasty treats, including an excellent Finnish mulled cider called glugge (spelling?), which we mixed with questionable vodka which came from this unappealingly medicinal bottle:

My flatmate's friend Michael came to the party in his kilt, and I saw a number of kids here wearing kilts last Saturday night (in case you were wondering, as I was, if they really ever bust them out). Meanwhile, my classes are going well (Orchestration, Music History, Composition, and Seminar on Wagner) and I joined the Edinburgh University Chamber Choir, which is doing some excellent repertoire (Barber “Agnus Dei,” Messiaen “O Sacrum Convivium,” Kodaly “Missa Brevis” and a piece by Edinburgh graduate and kick ass composer James Macmillan, among other pieces) which I am very happy to be a part of. For you singers out there – they take the choral tradition very seriously over here in the UK, which I really like. There are lots of singers and lots of composers writing choral music. Well perhaps that’s all for now – perhaps I should close by saying that I was told by a British student here that it is “terribly American” when Americans fake a British accent to sound smart, and that they really don’t understand this phenomenon, or why British people are always the smart ones (or evil villains plotting iniquitous work!) on American TV.

PS - How does one make those snazzy links where some word is highlited and it leads to a link?

Arrival

So my first post is going to be brief because I am using the internet at a hotel (where we have orientation) that costs 5 pounds an hour (that’s $10 an hour thanks the marvelous exchange rate…) I feel as if I have been living in one super-sized Wednesday.The trip began when I got to Washington National, where I began reading Jhampa Lahiri’s “Interpreter of Maladies,” which was a suprisingly appropriate book to begin my travels with.It is a series of short stories about the lives of various Indians, often immigrants to the United States, or American born Indians staying the subcontinent, and the trials they face in their new environments.Their problems especially concern being away from friends and family, and missing people – things I certainly felt on my way across the ocean.That said, my first impressions of Edinburgh are wonderful – the first thing that struck me is how it resembles Seaside Village, the mock “town” where Jim Carry’s character resides in ‘The Truman Show.’Not that Edinburgh feels fake, but, like the town in the movie, it is small, neat, friendly, charming, and clean.Everyone has an endearing and friendly sounding accent, and the policeman all wear bright yellow vests like traffic workers. It also has definite ambience – an old castle sits on top of a craggy rocky outpost above the city, and the rambling cobbled streets with narrow alleys branching off and grey stone architecture make you feel the sense of the history of the place. The final thing I should mention is the “northern’ feel of the place – the old stately architecture and the vaguely austere surroundings, combined with the attention to cleanliness and respectability in the city itself, remind me vaguely of other northern cities I have visited like Portland and Montreal.These cities have the same general feeling as Edinburgh, but without the heavy atmosphere of history and the (so far) charming way that Scotland presents itself.A sign at the airport reads “Scotland – the best little country in the world,”and Edinburgh seems like a city that tries to emulate that sentiment.