Science Officer's Personal Log | As it was in the beginning...

The last Saturday of the long vacation ended in a lovely night. 

Magdalen tower on a different night...

The day was unremarkable, filled with the efforts and failures of someone who's still trying way too hard. Most of my morning, for instance, was taken by being rejected from one of Oxford's many singing ensembles, and at lunch I headed to the Gloucester Green Market, only to find out that the stall I was looking for isn't open on Saturdays... I went on, stumbling from one disaster into another until the evening, when some angel of music intervened, bringing me an unexpected present.

I went to the Odeon at George st. to watch The Exorcist: Believer. Just another night at the movies, not different from so many of my evenings since I moved to this new place, except that this time, I wasn't alone. And after the movie we went for a stroll. We talked... Not about anything in particular, just a little bit of everything that happened to pop in our minds I guess. It was nice. I hadn't had someone to talk to like that in a long time, and I talked too much. It makes me blush to think about it. It was all so... so spontaneous, unruly, maybe even incoherent at times. But precious. Special and rare.

This week there was much to get involved with. And I did. I pushed myself to go to the Freshers Fair, talk to people, sign up for way more things than I could possibly attend. Give myself options. And when that was over, I started attending taster sessions of things. A power lifting taster one day. An Oscar-Wilde-themed social the next. All the while preparing for an important supervisor meeting on Friday and attending a graduate Scholars dinner and oath-taking ceremony the day before. It was a lot. 

This was my first trip to the Iffley gym. The taster session was cool, and the people were all friendly enough. For some reason, though, I am still experiencing some trepidation about trying to be a part of their group...

 Life is messy right now. The summer was long and difficult, and despite the fact that week 1 has officially started, it doesn't feel like the summer is over. Today, at choir, the maestro moved me to a different place because I am "too tall" to stand where I stood for the entirety of last year. Like a dinosaur in the modern world, I don't belong anywhere. I wonder if I should try another college choir for a change... This choir, which brought me so much joy last year, is beginning to feel like something from which I need to take a break. I still enjoy the music. And I enjoy singing. But perhaps I'm not really getting any better, and I don't want to feel like I'm in the way.

During the Evensong, in between pieces, after I failed to reach one of my notes and was feeling the embarrassment and sadness that only a Vulcan could experience, I remembered an anecdote I heard during that Saturday walk. A story about the lack of even a pity clap. And I smiled to myself, completely unaware, for the briefest of moments, of anything or anyone else around me.  

Today, after Evensong, I didn't go to the formal dinner. It was the first time, since my joining the choir, at the start of Michaelmas, last year. Instead, I went to St. Hilda's, to watch to a cello concert at the Jacqueline du Pre music building. Isserlis was playing again. I love watching him. His right hand is so relaxed, I watched bow strokes whose names I don't even know! There's something about the JdP building, it's just lovely to be so close to the performer in such a small venue. I still get that little itch of someone who prefers being on the stage than in the audience, but once he started playing I was completely taken away. 

The programme for the evening was: Johann Sebastian Bach: Gamba Sonata No. 1, BWV 1027; Moór, Emánuel: Largo for Cello, Op. 105; Casals, Pau: Pastoral; Lalo, Édouard: Cello Sonata in A minor; Granados, Enrique (arr. Cassadó, Gaspar):; Goyescas, H. 71 - Intermezzo; Casals, Pau: Morceau de concours; Gaspar Cassadó: Requiebros; Johannes Brahms: Cello Sonata No. 2 in F Major, Op. 99

 The concert started with a Viola da Gamba Sonata in G, by J. S. Bach. Four movements. It felt like watching a dance, only instead of a girl, Isserlis had a cello in his arms. For the first time ever, I watched Cassadó's Requiebros performed live, and there was music I had never come across before, Largo, op. 105 by Moór and a Sonata for Cello and Piano in A minor by Lalo. Isserlis is very physical during his performance - kind of like what I saw in Wispelwei back in São Paulo, but Wispelwei was intense and serious all the time, whilst Isserlis was... light. He tapped his foot at the rhythm of Brahms's Sonata, and lifted it off the floor all together during Casals' Pastoral. At times it seemed like he might float off the chair. And he smiled... Like there was nowhere else he would rather be. 

Maybe I should pause and do more things like this this term. I already booked another cello performance for November, selected movements from Bach's cello suites, by Florian Berner at the JdP. It should be interesting to watch this after my recent trip to Amsterdam, seeing as Berner compares the suites to Rembrandt's' self portraits, and not that long ago I got to see some of those... Two weeks from now there's a jazz gig there. Perhaps I'll go to that as well. And bring my back my little "Walking my Baby Back Home" tradition... That's something to look forward to.

 I'm in my new room now. It's late. After I got back from the concert I lay in my bed listening to different versions of the prelude of the first suite. Isserlis, Du Pre, Rostropovich, Cassadó, Wispelwei, Casals... Pretending I was June in Tell The Wolves I'm Home. 

 It's a new academic year. Let it bring what it may. I'll be ready for it.