Going back to my roots

Palacio del Marqués de Dos Aguas – Valencia

Leaving again tomorrow, back to my hometown, for a small holiday. I’ll be back next Tuesday, just in time to take a deep breath and get mad at work on the first of July. My office work have a peak at the beginning of the month and, god knows why, festivities in Italy have a certain tendency to be at the very end or the very beginning of the month. Therefore, relaxed as I can be when I come back, the day after I will be once more exhausted.

It’s funny the use of the word “coming back” when referring to Italy. Even if I live here since 1998 and I’ve married an Italian, Spain will always be “home”. I have never made the application for the double passport, even if I could have an Italian one. I’ve always lived in rented flats, even if I could have bought one (well, owing the money to the bank until the end of my days for a 60 square mtrs apartment); for me home is elsewhere, on the other side of the Mediterranean Sea.

Regarding the recreational activities, more or less fandomly related, after a long British winter I’m facing a hot American summer. Starting with the object of my distRAction, that will attend tonight in LA the Saturn Awards in a Ophelian-Millais mode on, flower crown included, apparently.

Ophelia, by John Everett Millais. My pic – Tate Britain

I just can imagine how the many and devoted Hannibal fans feel. For me it would be like if after three chapters of the next Rectify season (before you roll your eyes and think oh, no, there she is again, from today on every reference to that show will be accidental as I have opened another blog another just to write about it) Sundance TV would announce that they cancel the show. I guess that if any of the Hannibal fans have a relation that suffered in their time the cancellation of the first Star Trek Classical  series after the third season, that family will be dealing with some really serious trauma.

As a soundtrack for this hot (honestly not very much, for the time being) American summer I can use this song that I have discovered listening to an spotify playlist called the Pulse of Americana. I really like it; Dorothy shouting “why did love put a gun in my hand”, the sound of the harmonica, that guitar… So Thelma & Louise.

Occupational hazards

stageIt is said that the first representation of Rossini’s “Il Barbiere di Siviglia” was a compilation of stage disasters: the singer playing Bartolo stumbled in the threshold of his house and fell breaking some teeth, a black cat crossed the stage and so on. I read this years ago and most probably my imagination has altered the anecdote; I know, I could google it and check it, but, remember, I’m quite lazy.

What does Rossini appear in this post? Because I remembered it last night, while watching my husband’s performance in a theatre in Rome. No black cats nor broken teeth involved, but there were some technical problems with the sounds and microphones. He took it very well, those are things that happen and he was so happy for being on that stage that most probably neither accidents nor animals would have erased the smile on his face. It was his first serious professional engagement since… practically always, even if he’s been a musician all his life.

Last night he finally could play two shows in a theatre, with a group of professional musicians and in front of a paying audience: not in a pub for the usual group of friends and relatives.  He was absurdely happy, and I was also for him. Most of all when he was called by the singer to receive the audience’s applause and “bravos” with embarrasment.

The Charming Voice (of This Charming Man)

Convenient marriage

Each audiobook narrated by Richard Armitage is like the metaphore of life and chocolate boxes according to Forrest Gump’s mum: “You never know what you’re gonna get.” When you think you have heard every possible kind of voice, there pops a new unexpected flavour. Today, after hearing a few minutes of Georgette Heyer’s “The Convenient Marriage”, once more the magic trick is created and, there she is, the stammering girl. When I define RA’s voice charming, I mean it in both senses: charming as delightful but also as “magic trick”.

There he sits Mr. Armitage in his chair (I hope comfortable and big enough 😉 ), in front of a microphone and… voilà! The toothless sailor! Ooopla! The teenager stammering girl! Presto! The drowsy gentleman! Sim-sa-la-bim! The Machiavelian Danish!

I have tried to remember famous voice charmers, but just two women have come to my mind, Cleopatra and Sherezade. The list must be updated certainly with our Charming Man.

PS. Thank you Mr. Armitage for tha association of ideas that has linked your voice with “The Smiths”. I hadn’t heard them for a while…

So, ask me, ask me, ask me,
Ask me, ask me, ask me

Because if it’s not Love
Then it’s the bomb, the bomb, the bomb,
the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb
That will bring us together

If it’s not Love
Then it’s the bomb
Then it’s the bomb
That will bring us together

So, ask me, ask me, ask me,
Ask me, ask me, ask me
Oh, la…