Toulouse les Orgues

Taking a brief break from my principal profession as pornographer to frogblog visitors, this morning I accompanied Fingernail I's class to visit a church organ. It's located in a desanctified church which was bought by the private Catholic school to which it is physically attached and is now used for concerts and festivals. It's also in our street, so none of us burned too many calories getting there and back.

The presentation was done by a charity, Toulouse les Orgues, which also stages an organ festival every year. Toulouse is rich in instruments and the concerts attract organ lovers from all over the world. This particular instrument is a Cavaillé-Coll and you can read more about it here.

The visit was complementary to a musical project the children are all participating in called Le Clavier Fantastique, performed in collaboration with the Orchestre National du Capitole. They kept their concentration for a long time and asked some pretty intelligent questions. Our organist-presenter played a piece by Messiaen followed by Bach's ubiquitous Toccata and Fugue in D minor then took all the children up to spacious organ loft (see picture) to show them how the instrument worked. There's an unfunny joke in there, but I can't be bothered. Downstairs, they were able to get some hands-on experience with the help of a few fundamental models of bellows, keys and pipes. Needless to say, it got very loud, very quickly.

 In a country where you really need a toothcomb to find any musical education in state schools, our little local establishment is pretty good: they sing, they take part in cultural projects, they visit famous organs. It's reassuring.

Deauxma keeps 'em coming…(sp?)

Judging by the amount of hits my Deauxma page gets it would be fair to say I no longer have readers, I have viewers. And all because I thought she was just a glamorous housewife. Silly me…

Grief

I'm sitting here boiling eggs, watching eight toasties cooling off on the draining board and waiting for Mrs. Fingers and the Fingernails to come home and wondering if there's anything else I should be getting ready for tomorrow's picnic outing to St. Bertrand de Comminges. Inexpensive red wine may play a part in this sentence, but I'm wondering just how more perfect a husband and father can be. OK, it's not my first glass, but give me a break.

The family is round at the cousins'/brother's/family place. Being of Spanish/guilt-ridden Catholic stock, Mrs. F's sense of time and proportion take an extended holiday whenever she is with the others. That's no bad thing in itself, but it's not as she even enjoys being there with them. No-one exists outside this particular world she is currently suffering from, but tonight did have a first: Fingernail I actually phoned me nearly an hour after I'd finished preparing tonight's dinner to tell me that Mummy was asking if I could prepare tomorrow's picnic lunch. I didn't bother asking what time they thought they'd be coming back; I'd tried that on previous occasions. I suggested they eat before they came back, otherwise I knew they'd pitch up at 10pm with empty stomachs. I know this doesn't sound like any big deal, but you have no idea how unhealthily dishonest this contact is. Mrs. F becomes like an irresponsible ten-year-old, forgets her otherwise Himmleresque-maintained children's mealtimes and seems to feign ignorance when challenged. And for what? It's not like she even has a good time.

There's nothing like a dysfunctional family vortex. Oh, they're home. Three hours late.

Dilemma

You can wait for years for a big, red bus to come along and take your professional life to the next level, then two come along at the same time. After eight years of time contracts here in France, I've been offered my position permanently. It's a great job and allows me to travel to pursue other interests (South America, Germany etc) so having tenure would allow me to plan the future even more effectively. Just before the offer came through I found an opening in Vienna which was made-to-measure. I applied and received an invitation to meet them and conduct the orchestra. I don't conduct in France (at least not in my day job) and the idea of going back to being paid to stand in front of an orchestra is very attractive. It would mean us moving to Vienna on a time contract, the family learning German (I speak it fluently) and all that at a period when my employer here is prepared to may me until I retire (which I'll never do). Vienna is sending me some music to prepare, so I'll see how much I like the look of what they're performing at the moment. In any case, I'd like to meet up with these people again; maybe there'd be the possibility of a one-off gig later if I decide to stay here.

Some would say "Stay!"; some would say "Go!" The children would benefit both her and there (there's a French school in Vienna which follows the national curriculum) so the questions to be answered wold be more existential. I've got time before I have to reply.