A Ramble on Christmas Eve

This day began with a communal breakfast. Soon after Mama announced it I arose and went expectantly to the kitchen, only to find that though the plateware had been ceremoniously set the edibles consisted only of one measly basket of buns, a jam jar, the butter dish that is always on the table anyway, a little round of camembert cheese and gouda slices. Measly, I say! There was admittedly also hot milk, with which Papa kindly prepared a café au lait for me. Anyway, I registered my protest, then dismissed the matter. In the shelf all the ingredients for "Haferflocken mit Kakao" (oats with milk, cocoa powder and sugar, which is an unrefined but tasty combination) were there, so I made that instead. Gi. is in Münchehofe again and T. was still asleep, but the rest of us, including our uncle N. who is visiting over Christmas, were all present.

Then N., Ge., J., and I went off for a walk to the nearest park. Even though my legs were bare — I've never liked following the conventional wisdom regarding weather-appropriate clothing because it's unimaginative, restrictive, and often exaggerated, besides which I can't be bothered — it wasn't too cold. Later in the day the thermometer outside the window indicated a temperature of ca. 3 degrees, which is a big improvement over the lows of around -10 in the past week. The frozen snow was murderous, though, and the fact that none of us slipped on it is a minor miracle.

After that I had an internet session. The New York Times website has a slideshow of photos from the past year. It started out with pictures of Barack Obama's inauguration but by the time I'd finished it I was totally depressed. Fortunately Gawker also has a post, "Our Favorite Things About 2009: These People Are Gone," which encapsulates the members of the Bush Administration and then reminds us that no matter what else happens, (God willing) we no longer need to know, remember, or care that these people exist!

***

Throughout the early afternoon I decompressed with a very long piano session, which I only interrupted for dinner (more on that later). It reached from Bach (from the Well-Tempered Clavier, Book II; the Goldberg Variations; and all of the Concerto in d minor) and Händel (the suite which ends in the "Harmonious Blacksmith" variations) through Beethoven and Schubert (from the sonatas) as well as Chopin (waltzes, a polonaise, and a mazurka) to Enrique Granados (Spanish Dances Nos. 4 through 6) and Tchaikovsky ( from the Seasons).

The Baroque music went well, but playing it from non-urtext editions is extremely annoying because editors often stick in their phrasing, so that I have to make the mental effort of not only inventing my own phrasing but also of consciously not using the editor's phrasing, because the editor's phrasing more often than not totally obfuscates the composer's original intentions by creating a neoromantic sound soup. I hadn't played Chopin for weeks or months, but it went well. It's still difficult to relax and play it fluidly and lightly because constantly hitting the wrong notes and overusing the pedal makes me very tense (which is conversely sort of useful with grumpy pieces like Beethoven's and Bach's). As for the nocturnes, I did play the beginning of Op. 27 No. 2; this is the only one I can stand to hear and play often, since it's pretty much the only one that isn't a supine, substance-free mood piece. Fairly or not, I especially detest the canned drama of Op. 20 in c sharp minor, a plague which The Pianist (the film with Adrien Brody) apparently unleashed on YouTube.

On the whole I'm pleased with the way I've been playing for the past week or so; it has been easier to follow the thread of the compositional narrative, convey the mood, and capture the composer's idiosyncracies well enough that a listener could hopefully tell quickly which is which. Getting an objective distance from the music by focusing on other things for the past weeks/months has helped me a lot because it gives me time to recognize thoughtless bad habits, to think of better ways to interpret it, and altogether to avert the contempt bred by familiarity. I've also been in a grumpy and unhappy and cynical mood lately — partly due to the worry about finding a job (I think about my dwindling bank account several times a day), partly due to feeling useless and beginning to wonder if I am suited to any work at all, and partly due to the fact that it's winter. This, while not so great for my feelings, is musical gold. (Learning to deal with the mood also builds character, but that's so obvious it really requires no pointing out.)

***

Dinner consisted of a tradition known in our household as the "Arabic plate." There was a basket of Turkish flatbread ("Milchfladenbrot," to be precise), a hot bowl each of couscous, basmati rice, and bulgur wheat, and then two large plates whereupon were heaped sundried tomatoes kept in oil, black olives, pickled rolls of grape leaf containing bulgur, and a dozen or so dips from the Turkish supermarket down the street. Besides the obvious tzatziki and baba ghanoush, there were compounds of goaty or sheepy cheese, ground chili peppers, chickpeas or whatever, etc., which were new to all of us.

Since then we've sung Christmas carols in the corner room, English and German and French, though once again I was a frog and left the proceedings early for the sake of returning to my beloved internet (N.B.: not a replacement, merely an extension, of my family (c:< ). Now that I have returned to the beloved internet for a while now, I really want to watch television. Lately there have been tons of documentaries in the programme, intelligent and superbly made ones (especially on the channels Arte and 3Sat) which are not all devoted to the memory of Hitler or to conspiracy theories about the Mayan calendar or to history so simplified and inaccurate that I feel like a piece of my brain is missing after watching it. [N.B.: Re.: historical "reenactments" in documentaries, they are an innovation so rubbishy that if I were given the choice to go back in time and change something, preventing them from ever existing would be my first priority, were it not that countless extremely lousy actors are employed because of them.] Anyway, I haven't seen a documentary since the day before yesterday and am currently in withdrawal.

***

At any rate it's Christmas tomorrow! It will be very unmaterialistic (N. was joking about each of us receiving a single sugar pearl as a present, but I fear that tomorrow morning he will find that it was no joking matter )c: ) as customary — I weighed buying presents this year and even thought out what to get everyone, but after imagining my self asking Papa and Mama for money in a couple months when my bank account runs out before I have a job because I spent too much too quickly, I decided against it, which was depressing until I thought that at least this teaches me the value of being able to give nice presents (though then I realized that my siblings would probably be happier with nice presents than with the knowledge that their deprivation has led to their sister's spiritual enlightenment) — but there will be loads of chocolate and other delicious things to compensate. (c: Besides, a primary function of religion is to offer stern "consolations" for the difficulties in life!