Thursday, December 9, 2010

The Sound of Angels Singing

Image: Choir members taking a bow at the end of the concert

So this is what the sound of angels singing must be like. Four and five part harmonies; soaring tenors, and deep rumbling basses, pure sopranos and sweet, sweet altos. I’m sitting in Notre-Dame Cathedral on a freezing December night listening to a concert of Marian Polyphonies of the Renaissance.

No, I don’t know what that means either, but by chance I noticed a poster pinned to a board during my visit to Notre-Dame de Paris (French, for Our Lady of Paris), and on the spur of the moment, decided to attend this performance of choral works under the expectation that no matter what language the works were sung in, they would sound spectacular – and I wasn’t disappointed.

Some of the songs performed dated back to the late 1400s, while at least two pieces were written quite recently by the French composer, Caroline Marçot who was born in 1974.

I’m assuming all of the twelve songs performed during the evening were sung in Latin, but could be wrong. It doesn’t really matter anyway. Conducted by Lionel Sow, the director of Notre-Dame’s youth and children’s choirs, the sound of the small choir of around 20 performers (children and adults), filled the cavernous heart of Notre-Dame with exquisite harmonies and fine, clear singing. It was the sound of those voices that made the performance so special, and transcended the need to know or understand what was being sung.

As you would expect, the acoustics in the Cathedral are perfect for this type of concert, and as far as I could tell, no microphones or amplification of any type was used during the night. In fact, the choir left the ‘stage’ and formed a circle right in the middle of the audience (just one or two metres from where I was sitting) to perform the last song of the evening – and the sound was indeed heavenly.

Concerts of choral works are performed on a regular basis in Notre-Dame Cathedral, so it is well worth checking the Cathedral’s website to see if your visit to Paris coincides with one of these events.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

The Last Time I Saw Paris

Image: The Palace of Justice buildings overlooking the River Seine
The last time I saw Paris, was during the summer of 1975. If I say nineteen seventy-five as quickly as possible, it doesn't seem like 35 years ago – but 35 it was! On several very brief visits to France in the early 1970s, I never spent more than a couple of days in Paris itself, so you can be sure I was looking forward to my current ten night stay in this amazing city.

Already I am overwhelmed by the possibilities. Paris is a photographers dream, as well as their nightmare. There is so much history here; so many amazing buildings, streetscapes, wonderful backdrops, and spectacular locales waiting to be photographed that one great image is immediately supplanted by another one, and many others after that. And that’s before one actually enters any of the dozens of famous museums and galleries or visits historic monuments that present tens of thousands of photographic opportunities. Millions, even.
Image: Motorbikes and scooters disappearing under a cover of snow
When I stepped off my flight from Athens on Friday night, the temperature was a freezing minus three degrees. I’d forgotten how cold that is, but Paris didn’t take long to remind me.
On Saturday it snowed for most of the day. That may not mean much to many readers, but it was the first time I had experience the magic of falling snow since my last winter in London in 1976! Yes, it doesn’t take much to keep me happy on a holiday as you might guess, especially since we don’t get much snow where I come from in Australia (in point of fact, we don’t get any). That’s why I was happy to slop through the streets while freezing every step of my first exploratory walk around the neighborhood surrounding the Palace Hotel, which I am calling home during my stay.

Image: View of apartment blocks taken from the Pompidou Centre

Its far too early to give you any sort of useable impressions, but one obvious change over the past 35 years has been the huge influx of new immigrants into France. I can’t give you a breakdown of immigrant figures, but there appear to be large numbers of Indians and Pakistanis, and migrants from former French colonies in North Africa. Then there are Lebanese migrants and of course, Asians.

I don’t know how much of that often talked about French arrogance still persists, but I suspect even that has been tempered by the new migrants who have opened businesses across the city.

For example, the small Boulangerie that I have adopted for my morning coffee and cake, turns out to be run by Lebanese (whose owner has cousins in Sydney and Melbourne, and who speak perfect English, and are happy to use it). The young woman at the Asian restaurant I ate dinner at the other night also spoke excellent English, which made me think they were originally Hong Kong Chinese. And so it goes. In the face of all these new migrants that speak at least three languages, and sometimes more, the French must surely have begun to adapt and change their attitudes to foreign nationals, and to how they communicate with them.

So far, my very limited French has got me through every important encounter where I have needed to use it, and I’ve managed to bluff my way through others when my language skills were totally deficient – which is most of the time. It’s all part of the great adventure that is international travel, and I’m looking forward to the challenges and rewards ahead.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Love The Life You Live


Image courtesy of Children At Risk Foundation (CARF Brazil)
CARF Blog...and CARF Website...

Two years ago I made a decision that continues to challenge and push me in directions that I had always dreamed about, but never knew if I could actually achieve. I sold my house, invested the proceeds, and I’ve been trying to live off the interest and a small stipend ever since. Occasionally, I do some part-time work to help supplement my self-funded retirement, but for the most part, I manage to live on less than AU$1800 a month. In fact, right now I’m getting by on AU$1500 a month.

I do this by trying to be as disciplined as possible with purchases that are not absolutely essential. Therefore, I rarely buy CDs, DVDs, or other home entertainment treats that I used to purchase on a weekly basis. I make do with a 30 year old television that regularly flickers and distorts, but not quite to the point where it is unwatchable. I go to the movies less than I used to, but still manage to eat out once or twice a week. I could have made further savings by giving up my car and using public transport. Come to think of it, I have given up my car. I got rid of my 18 year old Toyota Camry wagon just before I left Australia at the end of June. I could save even more if I cut cappuccino’s and cake from my diet!

My one weakness (apart from coffee and cake), is books. As much as I try to not buy books, I always seem to collect more. At least 80 percent of my book buying purchases are for secondhand books which I guess helps, but still, I just can’t seem to stop myself from accumulating more.

Thankfully, I’ve never been a smoker, regular drinker, or gambler – three things guaranteed to drain your wallet faster than a Wall Street banker! The trade off for all this austerity is that I am able to travel on extended journeys that most people – even those who are retired – are unable to.

For example, as I write this I am five months into a round the world trip that included three months in the United States, two of which I spent in New York City. I am currently into my second month stay on the Greek island of Ikaria, and about to head off to Paris, France for a ten day visit, before returning to Greece.

In March I will return to Australia, but not before I make a stop in Cambodia where I will visit the temples of Angkor Wat and other sites. If I can manage it, I will also make a quick side trip to Turkey to visit the ancient ruins at Ephesus.

Of course, having places to stay at little expense helps my limited funds go a lot further than they would if I was staying at even the cheapest hotels. My New York stay involved me apartment sitting for a friend of the family. In return for a rent free, two month stay in the Big Apple, I cared for two cats, some house plants, collected the mail, and let would be burglars and other ne’er-do-wells know by my presence that the apartment was occupied and being watched over. I also stayed with relatives while travelling through the southern states of America as far as Tucson, Arizona, and I am staying with family here in Greece.

Since I’ve been on the road, I’ve taken to signing my emails, and occasional Facebook and Twitter updates with the phrase: Love the Life you Live.

And why not? I am living the life I’ve wanted to live for many years, and needless to say, I’m loving it. I have little or nothing to complain about. I am in reasonably good health, and at 62 I’m young enough and fit enough to spend hours on my feet walking the streets of New York and other cities, and old enough to not be offended by pretty much anything that comes my way. In addition, I am tolerant of other people’s opinions, broadminded, easy going, and easy to get along with.

You only get one shot at life, folks (resurrectionist and Buddhist theories aside), and there is no time like the present to start planning for the day when you too will have time to travel, or put into train your long held dreams and desires – whatever they may be.

I’ll leave you with the chorus of a new song I’m in the process of writing with the above title, in hopes it will encourage you to pursue your goals with joy and love.

You’ve got to find joy in everything you do,
Follow love and let love follow you.
Let go and remember to forgive,
Give thanks, and Love the Life you Live.
© 2010, Jim Lesses. All Rights Reserved.
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