My beloved is in with noted modernist composer Raymond Deane. Thus we found ourselves on the guestlist for a premiere of his latest new piece in the National Concert Hall. And so we were able to hob nob in the interval reception and get tanked on free booze, which rocked. And whom should I meet there but my old friend and quaffing partner, Conor Kostick. Fun was had by all.
Oh yeah, what was the music like? Ah you know, grand stuff. I’ve never really known how to talk about the old orchestral music, apart from using clichés, and no obvious ones applied here. But I did most definitely find the music very enjoyable, and said as much to Mr Deane. “Enjoyable, eh?” he chortled, and I mumbled something about not having the vocabulary to describe classical music, in a possibly vain attempt to remain on the list for future première invites.
The orchestra also performed Dvorak’s New World symphony, which brought back many childhood memories for my glamorous assistant. Burr burr burr.
Sadly I do at least know the difference between a conductor and composer, but maybe I could have asked him where he got his ideas.
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