Galleries, cafes and pubs, oh my!
Jun. 29th, 2009 12:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stephbgDarling Husband took me out again today, and it was lots of fun. I like fun. Fun is good. It took us until mid afternoon to get started, but that worked out well in the end; except perhaps for the after-hours caffeine.
We started off at the art gallery of WA at the "THING beware the material world" exhibition. It was full of wacky chairs and bits & pieces. Stuff, in other words, but attractively designed stuff interspersed with the odd surprise. A giant inflatable thing, exquisitely carved wooden things, and our sentimental favourite entitled "The Stick".
The Stick (artist not noted) was a sad, lonely figure of a stick, tucked away in the corner of the gallery, nervously awaiting its fate with anxious eyes. Would it be set on fire? Thrown to a dog? Or used to make a table?
I was also impressed by the current method of asking people to Please Do Not Touch:
Thank you for resisting the temptation to touch. It helps preserve our artworks for all to enjoy.
It was very difficult to keep my hands to myself, for many of the works were textured or furry or curvy and cried out for contact. I had to hold my hands firmly behind my back.
We then took a lap around the annual end-of-year art students' exhibition. It was more of a mixed bag this year, with (thankfully) far fewer teen-angsty self portraits than usual. A few really *awesome* technical achievements (particularly in textiles), a lot of very ordinary paintings and a great little pen and ink study of an onion. I found myself strangely drawn to a picture of a gorilla with a teacup: the teacup was hairy; the gorilla was Wedgewoody.
Then we looked at some small spindly metal things until I had a sudden spoon failure and had to sit down immediately. We took refuge in the gallery cafe and enjoyed some expensive but otherwise OK coffee. One of Husband's new favourite spectator sports is feeding me coffee and watching me fly. We chatted, weather-watched, held hands, people-watched, and gazed into each other's eyes. It was the most perfect date I'd ever had :-)
Before we left we browsed in the gallery shop and came away with a deeply discounted catalogue from the St Petersburg exhibition. Many pretty prints of shiny things. And we weren't alone in our shopping: despite the rough conditions the city was busy with shoppers presumably taking advantage of the end-of-financial-year sales.
Pub, with band
But wait, there's more! We stopped at The Charles Hotel (conveniently on the way home) to watch The Metro Big Band for a while. Husband has recently become their bass player, so this was his last opportunity to see and hear the band from the wrong side of the mike, and my only opportunity to see the band with Husband by my side. We also got in for free :-) Next time he'll be banished to the rhythm section and I'll be a jazz widow again. But perhaps I could watch him play again; it's been a while since I played that role and the band itself is well worth listening to.
We stayed for two sets in the end, which was a good thing, for it took the horn section a little while to warm up *wince*. I'm looking at YOU, third and fourth trombones. But when everyone got it together it was supurb, and they played many of my favourite songs. Most the arrangements were OK too (if a little fast for comfort), and the audio quality was very good. I often find arrangements too fast: I learned a lot of those core tunes listening to Husband's arrangements in his earlier ensembles, and he tends to slow things down more than other people, so my ear is doomed to slow prejudice. Doomed!
Standouts were the first trumpet, the first and second trombone, all the saxes, and the drummer. The soon-to-be-not bass player's eyes were glued to his charts. He got the notes out, but with no hint of the subtle flair allowed to even rhythm players. The pianist wants to steal Matthew away for a piano/bass/drums trio. He's a popular lad in this town: quite, reliable, skilled, workmanlike, professional, versatile, friendly. He can play, sing, teach, do arrangements, transcriptions, and charts.
They had three singers: Mr Extra Testicles Greg, whom I've known exactly as long as I've known Husband; a brassy belter blonde babe; and a smooth sultry brunette songstress. Everyone sang in tune--for which I was immensely grateful--but I preferred the brunette's tone and attack. The two girls only sang together a couple of times, but they were too different to really work together. Actually, I got the impression that they couldn't stand each other. I'm quite happy to proven wrong about that, but they had an interesting stage anti-chemistry in range, tone, presence, and body language. Nothing that would ultimately hurt the band in small doses.
It was very tiring talking/shouting during the breaks. It was certainly possible to hear (i.e. not night club levels), so you could have a conversation, but I'm out of practice at stretching my voice. It was fun to belt along to Minnie The Moocher, but who knows what sounds I actually made.
I would have *loved* to have danced ballroom and latin, and it took quite a while for people to start dancing. Shy lot, Perth audiences. They sit so very still and make so little noise that the poor muso is hard pressed to tell if they're making an impact. I managed a bit of chair jiving but otherwise imagined us doing SYTYCD-quality moves, albeit stripped of the lifts and aerials. My imagination doesn't stretch quite that far :-)
I hope I'll be up for some editing work tomorrow. While writing this post I've struggled quite a bit with word recall and that's one of my bad signs, but I want to start pushing a bit harder to get things done even if I'm not feeling my blistering bright most efficient and clever self. A lot of people go to work feeling crap, and produce crap. I cannot charge by the hour for crap work. I need to find a way to do at least reasonable if not sparkly work. But I need to find a way to get back to work.
In other news this week I have some pathology things to do; places to go; and results to chase. My end of financial year tasks are unknown but probably a lost cause.
We started off at the art gallery of WA at the "THING beware the material world" exhibition. It was full of wacky chairs and bits & pieces. Stuff, in other words, but attractively designed stuff interspersed with the odd surprise. A giant inflatable thing, exquisitely carved wooden things, and our sentimental favourite entitled "The Stick".
The Stick (artist not noted) was a sad, lonely figure of a stick, tucked away in the corner of the gallery, nervously awaiting its fate with anxious eyes. Would it be set on fire? Thrown to a dog? Or used to make a table?
I was also impressed by the current method of asking people to Please Do Not Touch:
Thank you for resisting the temptation to touch. It helps preserve our artworks for all to enjoy.
It was very difficult to keep my hands to myself, for many of the works were textured or furry or curvy and cried out for contact. I had to hold my hands firmly behind my back.
We then took a lap around the annual end-of-year art students' exhibition. It was more of a mixed bag this year, with (thankfully) far fewer teen-angsty self portraits than usual. A few really *awesome* technical achievements (particularly in textiles), a lot of very ordinary paintings and a great little pen and ink study of an onion. I found myself strangely drawn to a picture of a gorilla with a teacup: the teacup was hairy; the gorilla was Wedgewoody.
Then we looked at some small spindly metal things until I had a sudden spoon failure and had to sit down immediately. We took refuge in the gallery cafe and enjoyed some expensive but otherwise OK coffee. One of Husband's new favourite spectator sports is feeding me coffee and watching me fly. We chatted, weather-watched, held hands, people-watched, and gazed into each other's eyes. It was the most perfect date I'd ever had :-)
Before we left we browsed in the gallery shop and came away with a deeply discounted catalogue from the St Petersburg exhibition. Many pretty prints of shiny things. And we weren't alone in our shopping: despite the rough conditions the city was busy with shoppers presumably taking advantage of the end-of-financial-year sales.
Pub, with band
But wait, there's more! We stopped at The Charles Hotel (conveniently on the way home) to watch The Metro Big Band for a while. Husband has recently become their bass player, so this was his last opportunity to see and hear the band from the wrong side of the mike, and my only opportunity to see the band with Husband by my side. We also got in for free :-) Next time he'll be banished to the rhythm section and I'll be a jazz widow again. But perhaps I could watch him play again; it's been a while since I played that role and the band itself is well worth listening to.
We stayed for two sets in the end, which was a good thing, for it took the horn section a little while to warm up *wince*. I'm looking at YOU, third and fourth trombones. But when everyone got it together it was supurb, and they played many of my favourite songs. Most the arrangements were OK too (if a little fast for comfort), and the audio quality was very good. I often find arrangements too fast: I learned a lot of those core tunes listening to Husband's arrangements in his earlier ensembles, and he tends to slow things down more than other people, so my ear is doomed to slow prejudice. Doomed!
Standouts were the first trumpet, the first and second trombone, all the saxes, and the drummer. The soon-to-be-not bass player's eyes were glued to his charts. He got the notes out, but with no hint of the subtle flair allowed to even rhythm players. The pianist wants to steal Matthew away for a piano/bass/drums trio. He's a popular lad in this town: quite, reliable, skilled, workmanlike, professional, versatile, friendly. He can play, sing, teach, do arrangements, transcriptions, and charts.
They had three singers: Mr Extra Testicles Greg, whom I've known exactly as long as I've known Husband; a brassy belter blonde babe; and a smooth sultry brunette songstress. Everyone sang in tune--for which I was immensely grateful--but I preferred the brunette's tone and attack. The two girls only sang together a couple of times, but they were too different to really work together. Actually, I got the impression that they couldn't stand each other. I'm quite happy to proven wrong about that, but they had an interesting stage anti-chemistry in range, tone, presence, and body language. Nothing that would ultimately hurt the band in small doses.
It was very tiring talking/shouting during the breaks. It was certainly possible to hear (i.e. not night club levels), so you could have a conversation, but I'm out of practice at stretching my voice. It was fun to belt along to Minnie The Moocher, but who knows what sounds I actually made.
I would have *loved* to have danced ballroom and latin, and it took quite a while for people to start dancing. Shy lot, Perth audiences. They sit so very still and make so little noise that the poor muso is hard pressed to tell if they're making an impact. I managed a bit of chair jiving but otherwise imagined us doing SYTYCD-quality moves, albeit stripped of the lifts and aerials. My imagination doesn't stretch quite that far :-)
I hope I'll be up for some editing work tomorrow. While writing this post I've struggled quite a bit with word recall and that's one of my bad signs, but I want to start pushing a bit harder to get things done even if I'm not feeling my blistering bright most efficient and clever self. A lot of people go to work feeling crap, and produce crap. I cannot charge by the hour for crap work. I need to find a way to do at least reasonable if not sparkly work. But I need to find a way to get back to work.
In other news this week I have some pathology things to do; places to go; and results to chase. My end of financial year tasks are unknown but probably a lost cause.
