So many of us are now living in a universe where the virtual world mingles freely with the real-time one. Even before the present situation we spent (too much) time on social media to keep in touch. Now, however, apps like Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Flickr have become even more indispensable to our lives. Since the rule in this health crisis is to socially distance oneself and keep well away from others, not so much to avoid catching any virus from them but, more importantly, not to potentially infect them, social media is clearly the safest option.
The grim fact is that the pandemic emphasizes mankind’s common fate that ‘the paths of glory lead but to the grave’ together with all other living species. It truly concentrates the mind.
Luckily, however, with theatres, museums cinemas, and other places of entertainment closed for the duration we are offered a cornucopia of places which we can visit, not only with our memories but also with our laptops.
The following sites have given me particular enjoyment:
Sir John Soane Museum
Tate Modern
https://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern/exhibition/modigliani/modigliani-vr-ochre-atelier
Natural History Museum
British Museum
https://blog.britishmuseum.org/new-virtual-reality-tour-with-oculus/
Louvre
https://arts.vive.com/us/articles/projects/art-photography/mona_lisa_beyond_the_glass/
There are plenty more to Google for one’s enjoyment. Clearly, museums are also using these methods to attract potential audiences once this unfortunate episode in human history is over.
However, more traditional methods of passing the time hold firm. There is nothing more satisfying than having a real book in your hands and reading its pages. If you are a musician then there are many opportunities to practice to your heart’s content in the privacy of your home. Some musicians have expanded this to include others and now whole orchestras and choirs are playing on-line creating a virtual venue where no real one can be currently used. Here is a moving example: part of Bach’s ‘Saint Matthew Passion’, so appropriate for this week, especially as today is Palm Sunday:
PALMS
I was standing by the east gate
when I first saw him pass.
Could this man create so much hate
and yet unite all class?
Through the thick crowds I caught his face
and for one fleet instance
it seemed as if he could replace
death itself with his glance.
People had cut down palm boughs,
waving them before him
with hosannas and solemn vows
in one rapt festive whim.
Sat astride the colt of an ass,
prophecy-fulfilling,
he rode through the acclaiming mass
like a king returning.
How would this local triumph end?
No blood had yet been spilled.
Would it forevermore transcend
the man, the god they killed?
All we knew was that we seemed free –
our happy feast had come.
Yet wine and bread would never be
the same again for some.
And as the palm leaves’ cross-shaped folds
are given in this nave
will he say that our future holds
no terror in the grave?
FP
Music is for me the balm that truly soothes the soul. In this respect I’ve been thinking about a particular favorite among the composers I love. Gerald Finzi (1901-1956) was born of an Italian father – (I’m reminded of De Sica’s ‘Garden of the Finzi-Contini’, a classic starring Lino Capolicchio, Dominique Sanda and Helmut Berger) and a German mother.
(My wife Sandra with the actor Lino Capolicchio who starred in ‘The Garden of the Finzi Contini’)
Despite his ‘foreign’ parents Finzi became a quintessentially English composer with works displaying a beguiling mix of rhapsodic lyricism, humour and introspection. His songs are absolutely wonderful and his ‘Dies ‘Natalis’ is quite ecstatic. My own favorite among his works is the eclogue which would have become a part of an unfinished piano concerto:
It is such poignant music, enfolding your heart in its waves of golden emotion… so lovely and beautifully played by this Italian ensemble with a great pianist.
Gerald Finzi loved the English countryside and became an expert in apple-growing;indeed he managed to save from extinction several rare English apple varieties. Finzi is also an example of how careful we must be during these critical times. He went for a stroll with his fellow composer, mentor and friend Ralph Vaughan-Williams, and visited a family whose child had chickenpox. Finzi was already suffering from Hodgkin’s disease (the same disease my mother died from) so his immune system was at a low ebb. He developed shingles (an awful disease – I know, I’ve had it) which developed into a severe brain inflammation and died shortly afterwards at fifty-five years of age, the day after his cello concerto had been given its première on the (then) ‘Thud’ (alias) Third Programme.
The history of music is sadly full of composers who have died from not practicing social distancing in areas where plague and disease flourish. Let us hope that concentrating our friendships on-line will help prevent the ‘carogna’ (Italian for bloody or carrion) virus from further spreading itself.