Postmortem

Recently Mark Morris has been exposing everyone within earshot to Ivor Cutler, culminating in the recent dance A Wooden Tree starring Mikhail Baryshnikov, reviewed well by Joan Acocella in The New Yorker.

Last week one of Mark's composition assignments at the Dartington choreographer/composer retreat was "Women of the World." My hasty transcription reflects the duet with Linda Hirst more than Cutler's solo version.

Women of the World (Cutler)

H'mm! Generous review of the Vortex gig by John Fordham.

At the masterclass I met Sebastian Scotney. (I can't believe LondonJazzNews wasn't on my blogroll before.) Another vital voice of the jazz internet, Ronan Guilfoyle, was there too. (Trio dialogue: Michelle Mercer, George Colligan, Ronan.)

I played terrible at the masterclass, which is one reason I give them, of course. Put up or shut up! I'm still learning "the art of solo piano" for sure…

I joked at the Vortex that if there wasn't anybody at the masterclass the next morning  I would just go around the corner from the Royal Academy of Music to the Sherlock Holmes Museum on Baker Street. I love A. Conan Doyle, I've been to that museum before.

Afterwards, on the way home, I made the mistake of watching 10 minutes of the American Airlines-supplied Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows, which managed the rather miraculous feat of being much, much worse than I could have imagined. 

Holmes as anonymous action hero is bad enough. Moriarty killing a bitchy Irene Adler is unforgivable. How dare Guy Ritchie and his minions dare sully one of the few feminist icons from an almost all-male milieu? Irene Adler is "The Woman" because she casually bested Holmes in a political showdown. To reduce her to a drab pawn is an insult to women everywhere.