Sunday Music

Here we are, a bit late as it seems, again ; ta – this habit should not form. In fact I very much dislike unpunctuality, and usually do not wait longer than ten minutes, cheerio call my office …
Did something special & extraordinary happen this week ? I am sure, but not in my life. I tried to focus on transcriptions, and miraculously it seems possible to reach the deadline. I think I’m contented with my work. I do not have the feeling that I left something out, that staring at two hundred year old brown paper would lead to any more success – there is always hope for satori (Ger., Eng.), but I do not much like koans (Ger., Eng.), I like it better when the text in front of me makes sense.
So it’s reading, comparing, combination, searching for strange words in lexica, but mostly staring. Two passages are still difficult, but it’s not much inspiration any more, we reached the transpiration part, usually the more boring bit. Everything will be wrapped up in a nice little parcel – in fact in some files -, containing the specimen, a little introduction of me, and of course my ideas about the adequate price. Either they like it, or not.
I hope You, my venerated readers, do like this Sunday Music, a 17th century chacony (Ger., Eng.). The author is an anonymous, but the piece found its way into Das Partiturbuch Ludwig (Ger.), an incredible source for music of the æra. Harmonie Universelle and Florian DEUTER have compiled a selection of pieces from the Partiturbuch, I do not know whether it is all available on CD.
Here is a gentle music, I hope you enjoy it – and have a good week.






Snoopy September rain

(Here the source, where Calvin & Hobbes live, and all the others. No clue why the strip will not center.)

It’s not that bad, I am not lonesome & do not smell like wet dog, hopefully. But it is remarkably chilly outside and raining gently since last night. Clouds are not drifting over the sky, they scuff through the gardens. Since energetic particles are headed to our old earth, because Sun coughed & had a Koronare Masseauswurf (Ger., Eng.), we are promised Northern Lights (Ger., Eng.) all over Europe – if there is conveniently a hole in the clouds to peep through. It does not look so. If we are lucky the clouds may turn a bit greenish at the edge and that has to be enough.
But there are serious news too. Drosophila suzukii, in German known as Kirschessigfliege (Ger., Eng.), is wandering in from its natural habitat in South East Asia (German article) ; proven to exist since 2008 in Europe, since 2011 in Germany, the little critter damages not only all kinds of berries, but grapes too, especially those we need for producing red wine.  That is dangerous. Add devastating news from Italy : this year’s harvest will be significantly smaller than last year’s – in the South at least a third less than last year (German article). Especially the spumante producers in the North, who are the earliest to pick grapes, say the harvest is not only small, but quality is very mixed too.
Die Lage ist ernst, aber nicht hoffnungslos.
I should be seriously working, transcribing important texts, bringing them in publishable / printable form. Instead I stumble through the web, write incoherent blog posts, and stare out into the grey nothing, where Drosophila munches my Sylvaner. In the rain. Under greenish clouds, but without tornado, yet.
I blame it on the lack of morning coffee. This cup of coffee is a threshold, a frontier – the line that divides dream from reality. There is a “before” and an “after”. Without the magic work of the hot brown and bitter fluid it is a kind of flow, a un-interrupted dreamish flow through grey clouds, conversations in my head or outside my head, what’s the difference ; images flap and stream, a constant stream, only gradual variances of grey.

I’ll allow myself another hour of trullern, there will be serious work after the evening meal. After all a deadline is looming.

Sunday Music

Sorry Roses, a bit late I know. But no worries – it’s still Sunday, technically. I’m still c.t.
Sometimes we all need to be wrapped in a kind of fluffy warm blanket & regress in a baby-like condition of blissful Wohligkeit. One possible way to reach this wonderful state of mind may be listening to the tenor of Fritz WUNDERLICH (1930-1966) (Ger., Eng.). In his much too short career he recorded a lot, and one of the evergreens is Du bist mein ganzes Herz from LEHÁR’s (Ger., Eng.) Land des Lächelns / The Land of Smiles (Ger., Eng.).
Here it is – I hope you enjoy it. Have a successful week. And no flu !



Franconians Don’t Climb

In earlier days one sat at the desk and worked for pay. Nowadays one sits at the desk, works and hopes to get the contract.
It’s not as bad as it sounds. But in order to land an assignment for a larger transcription project one must proof to command the necessary ability & carefulness – how to do better than by working on the job ? And they really picked out a tough example. Let’s hope all this leads to a contract in the end.

When I had enough of that scribble (and the description of body functions & fluids, it is history of medicine) I had a look into Godey’s Lady’s Book and Magazine (Eng.) – I have absolutely no clue how the 1867 volume has found its way onto my shelves. Thumbing through I found an article* about Hygiene.
Mrs HOPKINSON says that “every one has heard till his ears ache, how important is ventilation” – but people don’t give a damn : “The steam cars are filled with passengers, who sternly refuse admittance to the outer air.” Also people know that movement in fresh air and moderation in drinking and eating is key to health, but nobody cares.
Interestingly she mentions “Preissnitz in Prussia”, he installed a “water-cure” ; of course Mrs HOPKINSON finds, that “wash and be clean” is simpler and better – who needs these damn Prussians anyway ?
In fact Herr PRIEßNITZ (Ger., Eng.) is born in the Austrian part of Silesia. 1846, five years before his death, he was awarded the große goldene Verdienstmedallie (perhaps something like this, just in gold) by his Austrian Emperor. PRIEßNITZ died only 52 years old of a “shrinking liver” – perhaps a water-cure and moderation in eat & drink – ?

Besides the Austrian water-cure Mrs HOPKINSON mentions fabulous Franconia :

“Our countrymen enjoy change of place and change of air. We like to plunge at Newport, to climb at Franconia, to pour libations at Saratoga to Hygieia. We like to give money for things, and have our money’s worth. Why should we bathe in this miserable brook Jordan which runs before our very door ? Are not Abana (Ger., Eng.) and Pharphar (Ger., Eng.) better.”

Franconia ? Best country in the world, no doubt about it – especially because there is not much to be climbed upon around here. Some stony things in the Fränkische Schweiz (Ger., Eng.), yes, but that is really remote and I doubt Mrs HOPKINSON knew about the very existence of this area. So what is she talking about ?
There are a lot of new ports in the new world, one in Pennsylvanien too (Eng.). “Libations” may point to Saratoga Springs (Eng.) in NewYork. And Franconia ? Climb ?
Maybe she mistook our humble hills for the Alps.


* HOPKINSON: Hygiene. In: Godey’s Lady’s Book and Magazine, Philadelphia, March 1867, 258-260