In Paradisum - Truro Cathedral Choir Summer Concert, Saturday 20th June 20

PROGRAMME

  

The Truro Evening Canticles – Russell Pascoe (b 1960)

The Beatitudes – Arvo Pärt (b 1935)

Mother of God, here I stand – John Tavener (1944-2014)

Elegy – George Thalben-Ball (1896-1987)

Soloist: Luke Bond (organ)

Funeral Ikos – John Tavener

Herzliebster Jesu – Gabriel Jackson (b 1962)

Soloist: Luke Bond (organ)

Nunc Dimittis – Gustav Holst (1874-1934)

Soloists: James Lansdowne (treble) and Peter Thomson (tenor)

INTERVAL

Requiem – Maurice Duruflé (1902-1986)

Soloists: Jacob Dennison and Nicholas Hawker

1 Introitus

2 Kyrie

3 Domine Jesu Christe

4 Sanctus

5 Pie Jesu

6 Agnus Dei

7 Lux æterna

8 Libera me

9 In Paradisum

WORDS AND PROGRAMME NOTES

The Truro Evening Canticles – Russell Pascoe

Cornish composer Russell Pascoe was commissioned to write this set of evening canticles for the Cathedral Choir, which were broadcast live as part of Choral Evensong on BBC Radio 3 on the 17th of April, 2013. 

Pascoe chooses to set the Magnificat as a great song of praise, rather than in the more introspective style particularly characteristic of Herbert Howells, full of exciting syncopation and the use of quick changes of time signature to shift the pattern of strong and weak beats in both the music and words, often over a short phrase.  He confidently mixes tonal and modal harmonies alongside sometimes unexpected rhythms and free repetition of the words, always maintaining a sense of surging momentum, with the fully independent organ part adding sudden flourishes that leap out from the texture. The Gloria takes us briefly to another world entirely, one where there is a majestic timelessness. This world is one inhabited by Arvo Pärt and John Tavener whose music is greatly influenced by the Orthodox Church. For the opening of the Gloria, with its drone bass underpinning a strong melody with embellishments, Pascoe had in mind the eyes of an icon (like the Virgin of Tenderness of Vladimir in the Cathedral) staring out and requiring a response.

The Nunc Dimittis is much darker in tone, starting with the basses of the choir over a low organ drone, again evoking an atmosphere of the Orthodox Church. The texture gradually builds over the course of the words, which are not repeated. The canticle ends triumphantly, with a grand climax leading straight into a reworking of the majestic Gloria from the end of the Magnificat, the organ accompaniment far more embellished than before.

My soul doth magnify the Lord : and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.

For he hath regarded : the lowliness of his handmaiden.

For behold, from henceforth : all generations shall call me blessed.

For he that is mighty hath magnified me : and holy is his Name.

And his mercy is on them that fear him : throughout all generations.

He hath shewed strength with his arm : he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.

He hath put down the mighty from their seat : and hath exalted the humble and meek.

He hath filled the hungry with good things : and the rich he hath sent empty away.

He remembering his mercy hath holpen his servant Israel : as he promised to our forefathers, Abraham and his seed for ever.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.

Luke 1.46-55, lesser doxology

Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace : according to thy word.

For mine eyes have seen : thy salvation,

Which thou hast prepared : before the face of all people;

To be a light to lighten the Gentiles : and to be the glory of thy people Israel.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.

Luke 2.29-32, lesser doxology

The Beatitudes – Arvo Pärt

One of only three works composed by Arvo Pärt in English, this setting of Jesus’s “Sermon on the Mount” from Matthew's Gospel is an excellent example of the Estonian composer's “tintinnabuli” style, the name of which comes from the Latin for “bell”, that he established for himself in the 1970s. This style is characterised by the use of two voices, the first being the “tintinnabular” which jumps around the notes of a tonic triad, and the second a voice that moves by step. This often produces a curious texture of parts constantly crossing over each other; the trebles and tenors have the tintinnabular voice, with wide leaps, contrasting with the altos and basses, who move in contrary motion with each other (where one part goes up the other goes down, in relation to the tonal centre). Pärt’s genius lies in making what could so easily be dry compositional techniques into music of immense emotional power. 

The choir enter on a discord, and the sentences of the scripture are punctuated by silence, before being joined discreetly by an underpinning organ pedal. The piece gradually moves higher through the choir's range, building a kind of devotional intensity while the pedal holds beneath the voices until the colossal “Amen”, when the organ suddenly bursts into life concluding the piece with a fantasia, indicative of the blessings of heaven that await the faithful. The organ fantasia gradually falls in pitch, returning to the original key of the opening; not only do the choir parts mirror themselves in their pairs, but the piece itself is a harmonic mirror, reflected through the “Amen”, that great declaration of affirmation.

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.

Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.

Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.

Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.

Amen.

Matthew 5.3-12

Mother of God, Here I stand – John Tavener

This simple, hymn-like setting is the opening anthem of John Tavener's The Veil of the Temple, a work that lasts over seven hours in its entirety and is performed overnight, much like Rachmaninov's All-night Vigil, commonly known as his Vespers. The text is a setting of the first two verses of Mikhail Lermontov's A Prayer Poem, translated by Mother Thekla, with whom Tavener shared an exceptionally close relationship, acting at times as librettist, spiritual advisor and even counsellor to the composer. 

The text is imbued with a simple honesty, the poet offering his prayers to the Mother of God not for himself in any way, but for “her alone”, reflected in the sustained phrases which repeat the same musical material for every two lines of text, focussing the devotional nature of the prayer. The end of each phrase features exceptionally low bass notes, common in the music of the Eastern Orthodox Church, laying a harmonic foundation like the pedal stops of an organ.

Mother of God, here I stand now praying,

Before this ikon of your radiant brightness,

Not praying to be saved from a battlefield;

Not giving thanks, nor seeking forgiveness for the sins of my soul, nor for all the souls

Numb, joyless and desolate on earth; but for her alone, whom I wholly give you...

Mikhail Lermontov, trans. Mother Thekla

Elegy – George Thalben-Ball

This Elegy, arguably Thalben-Ball's most recognisable piece, started life as an improvisation after a BBC broadcast during the Second World War when the service itself unexpectedly ended a few minutes early. So many listeners phoned the BBC to find out what piece he was in fact playing, Thalben-Ball decided to transcribe it as best he could remember. It is dedicated to Thalben-Ball's predecessor at the Temple, Sir Henry Walford Davies, and is reminiscent of the older organist's Solemn Melody, following a similar structure of a quiet opening statement that builds to a climax before returning to a subdued ending. The score notes that the first statement of this tune must have a “cello quality”, but no other registration instructions are given throughout, fitting its improvisational origins. This simple, dignified and never overly sentimental piece may well have been an affectionate tribute to Walford Davies, who died in 1941. 

Funeral Ikos – John Tavener

Written in 1981, this sets words from the Order for the Burial of Dead Priests from the Greek Orthodox liturgy.  Unfamiliar to most of us, it shows the frank and honest approach towards physical death, but that it does not diminish the souls of the righteous.

The long chanted lines, moving from unison to three parts and back again, coupled with the “Alleluia” refrain give the piece a meditative atmosphere, and help this delicate and deeply religious Ikos to move past being just music and words, and become more of an idea in and of itself – although performed out of context here, it echoes the message in The Beatitudes that heaven awaits the righteous but is beyond a veil of suffering and physical death, and that if we truly believe and keep faith we will find heaven. The text also touches on many aspects outside the funeral itself: the grief of feeling abandonment, loss, doubt, and fear of the unknown. Ultimately, the text points to closure; not just for the souls of the dying, but also the living who survive them, allowing them to move on and look to their faith: “Let us all, also, enter into Christ, that all we may cry aloud thus unto God: Alleluia”.

Why these bitter words of the dying, O brethren, which they do utter as they go hence?  I am parted from my brethren.  All my friends do I abandon, and go hence.  But whither I go, that understand I not, neither what shall become of me yonder; only God, who hath summoned me knoweth.  But make commemoration of me with the song: Alleluia.

But whither now go the souls?  How dwell they now together here?  This mystery have I desired to learn, but none can impart aright.  Do they call to mind their own people, as we do them?  Or have they forgotten all those who mourn them and make the song: Alleluia.

We go forth on the path eternal, and as condemned, with downcast faces, present ourselves before the only God eternal.  Where then is comeliness?  Where then is wealth?  Where then is the glory of this world?  There shall none of these things aid us, but only to say oft the psalm: Alleluia.

If thou hast shown mercy unto man, O man, that same mercy shall be shown thee there;and if on an orphan thou hast shown compassion, the same shall there deliver thee from want.  If in this life the naked thou hast clothed, the same shall give thee shelter there, and sing the psalm: Alleluia.

Youth and the beauty of the body fade at the hour of death, and the tongue then burneth fiercely, and the parched throat is inflamed.  The beauty of the eyes is quenched then, the comeliness to the face all altered, the shapeliness of the neck destroyed; and the other parts have become numb, nor often say: Alleluia.

With ecstasy are we inflamed if we but hear that there is light eternal yonder; that there is Paradise, wherein every soul of Righteous Ones rejoiceth.  Let us all, also, enter into Christ, that we all we may cry aloud thus unto God: Alleluia.

From The Order for the Burial of Dead Priests, trans. Isabel Hapgood

Herzliebster Jesu – Gabriel Jackson

Commissioned as part of The Orgelbüchlein Project, this chorale prelude was first performed by William Whitehead at The Passiontide Festival held at Merton College, Oxford, on 31st of March 2012. This project seeks to 'complete' Johann Sebastian Bach's Orgelbüchlein (Little Organ Book), which out of a total of 164 chorales for liturgical use throughout the church year saw only 46 completed by Bach at the time of his death, leaving 118 chorales either unfinished or entirely unwritten. Modern composers have been invited to contribute by either picking up where Bach left off or by creating an original composition, which will be collected and published alongside Bach's original preludes and published in one volume in 2017.

Gabriel Jackson finds inspiration from Bach in setting the chorale melody (a German hymn tune) in a solo voice in the right hand of the organ, while accompanied by left hand cluster chords and deep pedal notes underneath. While Jackson's melodic and rhythmic figures are beyond what Bach may have imagined or intended, the modern idiom is not so far removed from other decorated chorale melodies (such as O Mensch, bewein BWV 622), and the outline of the melody is well-preserved. The irregular rhythm in the accompanying parts promotes a sense of unease matching the dark undertones of the text, the first verse of which is printed here.

Herzliebster Jesu, was hast du verbrochen,

Daß man ein solch scharf Urteil hat gesprochen? Was ist die Schuld? In was für Missetaten Bist du geraten?

O dearest Jesus, what law hast Thou broken

That such sharp sentence should on Thee be spoken?

Of what great crime hast Thou to make confession,

What dark transgression?

Johann Heerman, trans Catherine Winkworth

Nunc Dimittis – Gustav Holst

Composed one hundred years ago, this unaccompanied Nunc Dimittis was commissioned by Richard Terry, then Organist of Westminster Cathedral. It received its liturgical première on Easter Sunday of 1915 as part of compline (which explains why there is no accompanying Magnificat), and almost completely disappeared thereafter. It was rediscovered in the 1970s by the composer's daughter Imogen, who revised it slightly ahead of its first 'modern' performance, given by the BBC Northern Singers as part of the 27th Aldeburgh Festival in 1974.

One of the most recognisable openings of any evening canticle setting, the eight parts enter one by one, holding “Nunc” until the full choir is singing. From this, Holst uses a great deal of techniques to vary the eight part texture constantly – renaissance inspired counterpoint gives way to full sections, antiphony not only between the first and second parts but also between the upper and lower voices, and two short but effective solos, sung by a treble and tenor. The piece culminates with a thrilling Gloria full of exciting counterpoint, ending with a sustained top A in the trebles that peals out, the final major chord instilling a sense of joy.

Nunc dimittis servum tuum, Domine, secundum verbum tuum in pace:

Quia viderunt oculi mei salutare tuum

Quod parasti ante faciem omnium populorum:

Lumen ad revelationem gentium, et gloriam plebis tuae Israel.

Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto,

Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. Amen.

Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace : according to thy word.

For mine eyes have seen : thy salvation,

Which thou hast prepared : before the face of all people;

To be a light to lighten the Gentiles : and to be the glory of thy people Israel.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.

Luke 2.29-32, lesser doxology

INTERVAL

Requiem – Maurice Duruflé

Born in 1902, Maurice Duruflé began his musical training at the age of ten, when his father enrolled him as a chorister at Rouen Cathedral, the choir of which was famous for singing entirely from memory until the time of the French Revolution. It is also the home of Jean Titelouze, recognized as the founder of the great French Organ School of composers. It was in this environment that the young Duruflé found his love of Gregorian Chant, on which much of his limited compositional output is based – only 14 opus numbers were published in total. The Requiem is a fusion of many disparate elements that Duruflé juxtaposes with incredible skill, making the melodies and modal flavour of Gregorian chant seem a natural match to the lush, almost impressionistic harmonies surrounding it.

The Requiem itself was possibly started as early 1941, but was not completed until 1947, when it was dedicated to the memory of his father, who had died that year. Initially conceived as a suite of solo organ pieces based on the chants for the Missa pro Defunctis (Mass for the Dead), it gradually expanded to this setting in nine movements for choir and orchestra, which Duruflé later reduced to choir and organ accompaniment, as it is performed tonight. (There is also a third version, accompanied by organ and chamber orchestra.)

The structure takes inspiration from Fauré's Requiem, and follows in its mood of dignified acceptance of death and confidence in God’s mercy. Amongst the dramatic moments are the massive 'Hosanna' in the Sanctus which gives listeners a vision of the gates of heaven, and the 'Dies irae, dies illa' that reminds us that God will come and judge the world by fire in the end of days. The solos in the third and eighth movements use the uppermost part of the range, providing a magisterial effect, particularly in the phrase “tu suscipe” in the third movement. Finally, in the sublime ending, the last moments of the In Paradisum itself, having seen heaven from afar, we are led by flights of angels as the choir and organ melt away into eternity.

I. Introit

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Te decet hymnus Deus in Sion, et tibi redetur votum in Jerusalem.

Exaudi orationem meam; ad te omnis caro veniet.

Rest eternal grant unto them, O Lord: and let light perpetual shine upon them.

Thou, O God, art praised in Sion, and unto thee shall the vow be performed in Jerusalem:

Hear my prayer; all flesh shall come to thee.

II. Kyrie

Kyrie eleison.

Christe eleison.

Kyrie eleison.

Lord, have mercy upon us.

Christ, have mercy upon us.

Lord, have mercy upon us.

III. Domine Jesu Christe

Domine Jesu Christe, Rex gloriae,

libera animas omnium fidelium defunctorum de poenis inferni, et de profundo lacu:

Libera eas de ore leonis, ne absorbeat eas tartarus: ne cadant in obscurum.

Sed signifer sanctus Michael repraesentet eas in lucem sanctam,

Quam olim Abrahae promisisti, et semini ejus.

Hostias et preces tibi, Domine, laudis offerimus:

tu suscipe pro animabus illis quarum, hodie memoriam facimus. 

Fac eas, Domine, de morte transire ad vitam.

Quam olim Abrahae promisisti, et semini ejus.

O Lord Jesus Christ, King of glory,

deliver the souls of the departed from the pains of hell and the bottomless pit:

Deliver them from the lion’s mouth, lest hell devour them: may they not fall into darkness, but let Saint Michael, the standard bearer, lead them into the holy light,

which thou once promised to Abraham and his seed.

Sacrifices and prayers do we offer to thee, O Lord:

do thou accept them for those souls in whose memory we make this oblation.

Make them, O Lord, to pass from death to life,

which thou once promised to Abraham and his seed.

IV. Sanctus

Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus, Dominus Deus Sabaoth.

Pleni sunt cœli et terra gloria tua.

Hosanna in excelsis.

Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini.

Hosanna in excelsis.

Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts.

Heaven and earth are full of Thy glory.

Blessed is he who cometh in the name of the Lord.

Hosanna in the highest.

V. Pie Jesu

Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem.

Dona eis sempiternam requiem.

Blessed Lord Jesus, grant them rest.

Grant them eternal rest.

VI. Agnus Dei

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem.

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem sempiternam.

O Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, grant them rest.

O Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, grant them rest eternal.

VII. Lux aeterna

Lux aeterna luceat eis, Domine, cum sanctis tuis in aeternum: quia pius es.

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Quia pius es.

Let light eternal shine upon them, O Lord: with thy saints for evermore: for thou art gracious.

Rest eternal grant unto them, O Lord: and let light perpetual shine upon them.

For thou art gracious.

VIII. Libera me

Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna, in die illa tremenda:

Quando coeli movendi sunt et terra; Dum veneris judicare saeculum per ignem.

Tremens factus sum ego, et timeo, dum discussio venerit, atque ventura ira.

Dies illa, dies irae, calamitatis et miseriae, dies magna et amara valde.

Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Deliver me, O Lord, from everlasting death in that fearful day:

When the heavens and earth shall be shaken; When thou shalt come to judge the world by fire.

I am in fear and trembling, until the sifting be upon us and the wrath to come.

That day, the day of wrath, calamity and misery, the great day of exceeding bitterness.

Rest eternal grant unto them, O Lord: and let light perpetual shine upon them.

IX. In Paradisum

In paradisum deducant Angeli, in tuo adventu suscipiant te martyres,

et perducant te in civitatem sanctam Jerusalem.

Chorus Angelorum te suscipiat,

et cum Lazaro quondam paupere aeternam habeas requiem.

May the Angels lead thee into Paradise, and the Martyrs receive thee at thy coming

and bring thee into the holy city Jerusalem.

May the choir of Angels receive thee, and mayest thou,

with Lazarus once poor, have everlasting rest.

Missa pro Defunctis

Programme notes by Paul-Ethan Bright

Truro Cathedral Choir

Truro Cathedral has had a choir of boys and men since it was consecrated in 1887. The current team of eighteen boy choristers and twelve gentlemen sings at six services each week during term time as well as at the major services around Christmas and Easter. They also undertake regular concerts, broadcasts, webcasts, foreign tours and CD recordings.

In recent years the choir has performed live on BBC1 as well as making recordings for BBC1’s Songs of Praise programme and a BBC2 documentary The Truth about Carols. There are regular live broadcasts on BBC Radio 3 and, in 2011, it became the first British cathedral choir to webcast a service. On Radio 4’s Desert Island Discs programme, Howard Goodall chose the choir’s recording of music by French composer Maurice Duruflé as his favourite disc.

Recent CD recordings have attracted praise from critics in the international classical press: “Inspirational singing from one of the top cathedral choirs in the land” (Organists’ Review); “The singing of the choir, set in the wonderful acoustic of Truro Cathedral, is beyond praise” (MusicWeb International); “They have a fresh, unforced sound and encompass with ease the bigger eight-part writing and unexpected harmonic progressions. It’s noticeable that the solo voices include five different boy choristers of equal accomplishment – a tribute to Gray’s expert training.” (Gramophone).

In addition to its commitments in Truro, the Choir has performed in Germany, Austria, Switzerland, France, Sweden, Italy, Spain and the USA.

A great deal of new music has been written specially for Truro Cathedral Choir by some of the UK’s top composers, among them David Bednall, David Briggs, Jonathan Carne, Paul Comeau, Paul Drayton, Graham Fitkin, Howard Goodall, Gabriel Jackson, James MacMillan, Russell Pascoe, Howard Skempton and Philip Stopford.

The eighteen boy choristers are all educated at Polwhele House School. They rehearse every day before school for at least 45 minutes. On most weekdays they come straight from school to the Cathedral where they do their homework before rehearsing for another 40 minutes and singing a service at 5.30 pm. They sing two further services on Sundays.

The boys are joined by twelve gentlemen who sing the alto, tenor and bass parts. Seven are Lay Vicars who are based permanently here in Cornwall. Five are Choral Scholars who come from various parts of the UK and further afield to spend their gap years singing with our renowned choir. There is also an Organ Scholar. All organise their lives, work and holidays around the choir’s busy schedule of commitments.

Truro Cathedral supports three other choirs which provide singing opportunities for boys and girls aged 7 to 18, as well as adults. A separate team of girl Choristers, in the age range 13 to 18, will join Truro Cathedral Choir next September. Full details can be found on the Cathedral’s website.

Truro Choral Society's Tippett A Child of our Time

A rather introspective programme was presented by Truro Choral Society and Truro Symphony Orchestra, a Rachmaninov first half followed by Michael Tippett’s secular oratorio, A Child of Our Time.

The choir opened with Bogoroditse Devo, the last movement of Rachmaninov’s famous Vespers, a setting of Ave Maria. This first item was conducted by Truro Cathedral’s organ scholar, James Orford, making his directorial debut. The chorus were supported by the string section, giving the sound an extra luminosity. Orford’s simple yet definite conducting allowed the music to speak for itself without any fussiness unbecoming of the piece, while the choir’s diction of the Russian text spoke well into the Cathedral acoustic.

All change at the front for the second item, Rachmaninov’s C minor second Piano Concerto, as Martin Palmer took the stand alongside the soloist, Paul Comeau. While the second movement is probably the most familiar (a favourite of Classic FM Hall of Fame, no less), this performance showed us that the whole work is just as approachable – the opening Moderato: allegro finds the piano sounding out the deeps before the orchestra joins, more or less taking the spotlight away from the soloist before a majestic climax that restates the initial theme, taking us to the sparkling cadenza. Comeau was surely in his element here, at turns deftly maintaining his part in the orchestral texture, before blazes of sheer virtuosity, relayed throughout the Cathedral via the cameras so those further back wouldn’t miss out – a real delight!

The second movement, the Adagio sostenuto, was a super-smooth episode of pure romantic relaxation, with eloquent solos from flute and clarinet. The finale, the Allegro scherzando, allowed for more dramatic elements to surface, balanced by the lyricism of the orchestral woodwinds, before building tension considerably to the final cadenza – Comeau once again holding the attention of the entire Cathedral.

What elevated this performance, for me, was not just Comeau’s undeniably sublime playing, or Palmer’s well-mannered and sympathetic conducting, but the communication between the two of them, giving the concerto a calm, collected air. A rousing ovation followed, with plenty of well-deserved cheers for Comeau, a real local hero on Truro’s musical scene.

As the programme reminded us, A Child of Our Time "…can never be comfortable"; a deeply personal statement by the composer conceived as a musical protest. The atmosphere was electric from the opening chords, with Palmer’s clear direction inspiring the choir to come in confidently on some exceptionally difficult leads. The young team of soloists added to the mood, their voices commanding in their own right, yet blending well when together. The five Negro Spirituals were particularly moving, Steal Away as a stand-out triumph, with a beautiful, sustained tone from the soprano soloist.

While this concert’s programme was more inward-looking than one might usually expect from Truro Choral Society, they acquitted themselves with a dignity befitting the music during another evening of exciting music making.

By Paul-Ethan Bright

Published 18th of June for Truro Choral Society website

Published 22nd of June for the West Briton website

Eat it: Pork and mushrooms with a cyder vinegar jus

Something from the 'What can I get on the cheap and oh what's that in the fridge' school of thought.  The recipe as it stands will serve a supper for one.

INGREDIENTS

Two pork loin steaks/Pork chops off the bone       Fresh Rosemary       5 closed cup mushrooms       

Spring onions       Cyder Vinegar       Salt and Pepper       Three garlic cloves

METHOD

Sit the mushrooms so the domed part is facing upwards, slice them, and put them aside.  Skin and roughly chop the garlic, and put that by with the mushrooms as well.  Cut the root end off the onions and slice them length ways - I haven't specified how many because they slice down awfully thin, so feel free to have as much as you like.  Set these aside also, but separately.

Heat olive oil in a pan and throw in a few sprigs of rosemary while you season the pork with the salt, pepper and leaves of fresh rosemary.  When you have been sufficiently generous with your flavourings, fry the pork with the fatty edge on the side of the pan for 2 or 3 minutes on each side.  Once they've started to brown, take them out of the pan and put them in a warm place to rest - I put them on a side plate and in the smaller part of my oven on a low heat - you certainly don't want them to cook in any significant way at this stage now.  

Pour the mushrooms and garlic into the pan and turn the heat down slightly.  They will soak up the oil in the pan, so keep an eye on it so it doesn't stick too much, making sure the garlic doesn't catch.  After a few minutes of stirring, add the spring onions.  Once they've softened, pour in two tablespoons of Cyder vinegar, and deglaze the pan.  When the sauce is simmering merrily, get the pork back into the pan along with all the meat juices for another few minutes.

When you're ready to serve, set the pork aside and using a spoon, lay the vegetables on the pan.  I normally do so in a single bed in the middle of the plate, but do as you wish - if you want to arrange it in chevrons or a circle, be my guest.  Serve the pork on top, either whole or cut into thick slices, and pour the remaining sauce over.  Service!

#~#

This thing of taking the meat out before cooking the veg in the same pan is a really very simple thing but adds to the dish - you'll notice I even advise it for that stir fry I wrote up oh so long ago.  Resting the meat even ever so slightly allows the juices to stay in the meat preserving the flavour.  Although I don't need to tell you that, right?

NEXT WEEK on Asylum South West: I imagine what it's like to be in the worst play ever, why I let the other person talk sometimes, "Nischt farinteresirt", and why you shouldn't bother being nice to me.  Ever.

Now Showing: Mad Max: Fury Road

To put it bluntly, Mad Max: Fury Road is one of the loudest, unrelentingly violent, extreme and simply one of the oddest films I have seen for a long time.  I also think it's totally brilliant.

Having only a vague cultural awareness of the Mad Max franchise and watched one trailer for this new iteration, I had very little knowledge in advance - all I really knew was that it was post-apocalyptic, Australian, and featured immense car chases - but I knew enough.  What I wasn't prepared for was the brute force of the film's delivery, which is broken up into a series of vignettes that split the film into little discrete chapters, as if Wes Anderson survived nuclear holocaust.  Our main players, Tom Hardy as "Mad" Max Rockatansky and Charlize Theron as Imperator Furiosa, are name checked before the the title - there are no further opening credits as we open on our first episode, where after an opening monologue from Max progresses to a car chase (naturally) and capture by a bunch of whitewashed nutters, leading to capture and a violent and juddering escape attempt, including hallucinations and a very literal cliffhanger.

The film carries on like this for its two hour runtime - anything approaching an explanation of what unfolds on screen isn't given by any of the characters until at least an hour in.  You're forced to accept what happens through it happening, rather than having any set up to hold on to and try and reason your way round... And after a while it all makes sense.  Of course there are insane car battles in an irradiated Australian outback following the downfall of society after nuclear war; how can there not be?  Survivors have become gangs who have then become cults centred around definite territory - we only really meet one of these great cabals, the Warboys led by the main villain of the piece, Hugh Keays-Byrne's Immortan Joe, promising his followers entrance to Valhalla in exchange for their lives.  It's easy to grasp, especially when we learn he has sole access to the water in "the Citadel" (the Warboy HQ).  Over the course of the film, we meet the gangs from "Bullet Town" and "Gas Town"and their respective leaders (who may or may not be related to Joe?!), the biker gang and the Vuvalini, although we only learn their name during the credits.  There's an air of hand waving going on here, almost as if George Miller just wants to get on with his film and let the audience catch up.

The rumours are true: it's a very woman-centric film.  While Max is the eponymous protagonist, he's not the only one, and in fact he isn't the one driving the plot, or indeed the War Rig.  That role falls on the shoulders of Theron's Furiosa, all woman and part prosthetic arm, hell-bent on rescuing Joe's 'breeders', the Five Wives, women imprisoned, chosen for their ability to bear healthy children and played by a gaggle of model actresses (actress models?), including that girl off the Victoria's Secret commercials and Elvis Presley's granddaughter.  From their first appearance in the film as nominal damsels in distress, meeting them more formally moments later in a scene where they hose each other down and use bolt cutters to remove chastity belts, they undergo a kind of humanisation largely missing from the stoic Max, becoming a little gang of character archetypes in their own right, whereas Max becomes the 'token' man of the outfit.  This rescue plot is already happening by the time Max becomes an asset in the film, after being strapped to the front of an insane car, being used as a mobile bloodbank for Nux, the Warboy with a heart of gold.  Nux goes on a greater journey than Max, although Mad Nux doesn't quite have the same ring to it.  The ultimate goal of Furiosa's escape attempt is to take the Five Wives to the "Green Place", an easy short cut to something better than the eternal desert that surrounds them.  This plays out in a pretty unexpected way but proves the old adage "the world won't change, all it does is turn.".  Furiosa's quest has a primal element, helping the women to escape biological slavery and find a safe haven, the utopian aspect blatantly obvious... Or perhaps they seek eutopia?

So!  You're not here for the plot presumably, I know I certainly wasn't.  Like I said at the top, this film is just insane.  All of the crazy rigs are real, built from the ground up especially and some of the stuff is just mental.  The War Rig that sits at the centre of the picture is probably the most normal looking out of the bunch (or is it just because we see it so much that we get used to it?), pretty standard Mack Truck... Except for the massive turbochargers and extended passenger cab, obviously.  The big bad Immortan Joe starts out in something that looks like one Cadillac stuck on top of another with bubble canopies and exhaust out of a hot rod's dreams, then moves to a ridiculous monster truck wheeled car.  There's an old Chevy chassis sat on top of tank treads, and countless other random genetic modifications on show.  Incredibly, most of the action on screen is real, with a few standout moments of CGI here and there (sadly some of the flame plumes are the least believable effects).  The scenes are crazy busy, yes, but it isn't messy.  A lot of deaths occur out of shot, cut away deftly after wince-inducing crashes, explosions and sniper shots, all accentuated by the mad kineticism of Miller's direction, coupled with the ever-changing frame rate provided the jerky motion we see from time to time.  Unlike say, anything by Zack Snyder, the use of chroma key filters and slow motion (or indeed fast motion in this film) is never too much.

The actual character of Max himself is... well, he's kind of a silent protagonist, or more likely a silent supporting character.  Hardy's use of non-verbal, be that grunting or through his actions, rather than reliance on spoken exposition remind me of countless video game protagonists, The Legend of Zelda's Link in particular, giving the audience a blank slate for the other characters to reflect on.  Although I haven't seen any of Mel Gibson's performances, this Max is particularly mad, what with his hallucinations and night terrors, juxtaposed with his expertise in combat and field medicine.  Like a Silent Bob who survived the end of the world though, the effect of his short speeches are magnified by their rarity.  Even a line as simple as "Max.  That's my name.", delivered towards the very end of the film carries more weight than had he been yapping all through the film.

Go and see this film.  Go and see how crazy it all gets.  Go and be overwhelmed by the sheer force of it all.  Go see men swing from 50 foot poles.  Go see lethal sniper grannies.  Go and sit, mystified by albino slapheads and mutant wildlife.  This even shows potential for what a great Tank Girl movie could look like, given half a chance - if a film this weird can succeed then there's plenty of room for TG and Booga.  The ending's all a little bit tidy: the outback is saved (for now), and everyone we like has survived (well, almost) - door's open for whatever comes next but there's not exactly any definite threads.  The good guys are good, and the bad guys are bad - no real heavy intellectual lifting here.  Go and see it and enjoy it, commit to being totally confused and weirded out.  And remember: "One man, one bullet."

Sequenza 2: Growing up's a trap anyway

Turned out nice again - 

Lovely day for your 21st!

That is today, right?

Remember the phrase,

that "Life begins at forty"?

It's time to find out!

There's only so much

to be said in a card, or

over these short lines;

Sometimes the value 

is rather in what's not said,

but in what you know.

So Happy Birthday!

I hope your day's as nice as...

You truly deserve.

Fyer, fyer!

I wrote this on the train, and also in a flat in Islington (here in a basement).

I've been doing this all wrong for too long.

As some of you may or may not know, I've been on holiday to England.  Yes, yes... Laugh it up, Cornwall technically is part of England.  But it also isn't.  Favoured holiday destination of seemingly most people on this island, be it from middle class families, beach hut owners, post A-level and pre-university students or just people from Birmingham, Cornwall is very much its own place.  I don't really need to wax on too long about this; I'm sure you have all the TripAdvisor recommendations and have seen enough of the new Poldark to be able to form your own, unquestionably valid conclusions.  My own recent adventures out to Gurnard's Head and getting sunburnt from just sitting at the desk in the office are part of the good things about living here.  What's most telling about life on this 80 mile spit into the Atlantic is the sheer scale of things – or the lack of it.

Five days in Derby have given me a lot of perspective back, actually.   As sad as it is to walk about and see parts of the city dirtier than memory would have me believe, at least... At least it's there. You know?  Okay, okay... The ineffable value of a place being the place is difficult to get down on paper (this is paper? What is truth then?) but not lost on the author.  No trip to Derby is complete without a bag of dinky donuts, or indeed, kneeling on St. Mary's Gate to get in the entire height of the Cathedral tower in frame.   I sometimes wonder about going back... But then I remember that nothing can ever be the same, and that the hope that it could be is an even more vain and time wasting hope than usual, even for me.  But much as suffering builds endurance and endurance builds character, distance allows for breathing room and breathing room allows for perspective.  A little distance is what I've needed for a long time, actually; I've been remarkably hard on myself (even for me, a noted self torturer) recently in sort of not going anywhere.   I've become stuck somewhat in Truro for what I could only describe as no good reason.  I haven't even been to the sea on my own, for saying it's £2.70 and a half hour away, let alone somewhere luxurious such as Exeter...

In getting stuck though, I've almost given up.  In moments of self awareness, I've noticed that I've stopped playing music (excuses here are legion, the best being that my keyboard plug is bust), stopped listening to music (the headphone jack on my phone doesn't work oh dear), almost given up writing, reading, cooking... It's worrying. It could be worse though!  I could have stopped all of these things and started handing my books out to other people!  Tragic.  It's as if I have let the fight just...run out of me.  I suppose that this is all part of the process I started about a year ago, of resetting my head.  I said it was a rewiring job at the time, before moving on to a more apt metaphor, that my head is more like an Asylum, a colossal house of madness full of rooms and whole wings that make up the most of my memory, bad as it is already, that can be shut off, doors locked and barred.  I have recalled things I had rather not have over the past twelve months, things that I have chosen to discuss either publicly or on here, in order to help myself get past them; while the jokes might not exactly be pouring forth, but at least I can talk about my own history of suicidal tendencies rationally now.   Last week was more about straws and my own dromedary spine, but as sure as you break me with reed I shall purge you by hyssop.  I'm sure there's worse to come as well.

It's not so much that I have been totally beset by tragedy or misfortune, perhaps just as much as anybody else, but that I wear my heart on my sleeve, until both it and the sleeve wear out.  It makes sense though – I have no real fine control over my sensory input or emotional state which is extremely tiring and difficult to manage, notwithstanding my propensity for panic attacks and more recently, nightmares (not something I'd recommend).   Also I've been struggling with interpersonal skills again, in differentiating means and ends, recognising the two (and who sees me as which and vice versa) – there's been plenty of unrest actually and I'm glad to have taken a step of several hundred miles away from things. Something else I've been pondering is that in getting older and becoming more settled am I simply becoming... Boring?  Being outspoken and opinionated doesn't really seem to have helped terribly, but what's the alternative?  Sycophancy?  Alright, that's the extreme sure, but really?  All of us, all of our lives struggle, in different degrees with things, people, situations and relationships that we don't like and for what?  Usually so other people are happy, more often than not.  I think we're done here.

There's actually a lot of unrest at the moment, all bubbling away under the surface. I'm sufficiently convinced that this isn't the time and place to discuss the hard and fast reasons behind it, but I'm certainly not the only person who isn't entirely happy – and it isn't difficult to tell either.  Sometimes syntax isn't just about how you put a sentence together, it's about how you are as well. It's something that I suppose that people aren't aware of, but it's all a giveaway.  Things like, oh I dunno... How often you go to the pub, or more tellingly, what time you start drinking.  I have to watch this kind of thing all the time, I spend an awful amount of effort trying (and often failing) to decode social meaning and hierarchy and all (who has a problem with authority anyway?).  You never really realise yourself, but when you have to watch things... it's all a dead giveaway when something's the matter.  As I've already mentioned, I am of course my own worst case in point – since my keyboard power adapter has broken I have all but given up and resorted to well... Drink instead of practice really. I still resolutely claim that things are “alright” and that I'm “okay”, but really?   It doesn't take a behavioural scientist to work out I'm secretly in misery and denying it.

Something about being back has reminded me that the moment I feel like giving up is in fact the moment to start fighting back again.  It always was, and I have no idea why I let it go? Maybe it's something in the water – or more accurately, the lack of it down south (mmmm, limestone hills). It's always like this, and I usually stay pretty fired up for about two or three days after getting back and then... Poof! Back to normal, or what passes for anyway. Now is the most selfish time I have, as I have been reminded. I will never be as young as I am now, and if I keep rolling over and giving up just for the sake of what I don't even know, then I will have wasted all the effort that brought me here, and waste what potential I have left for my future.


NEXT TIME ON ASW... Le Grand Depart, in detail!