It has been two weeks since my last post on occasionallyhuman. This seems to correspond neatly to about the time when i renounced my good intentions and bought a bottle of Tanqueray.

Despite the fact that I now have a liquid outlet, the events of the past fortnight have left me with memories that I desire to record in writing, or in song format, whatever spills first.

The jazz concert was a riot - Edwin (Bill Bailey on crack with a violin) and I had solos, and made it our mission to learn jazz improvisation in half an hour the day of the gig. I think they could smell that we were frauds, but we pulled it off with fireworks, and had a rocking time. Following that was a wine-fueled reception, then a jam with the 'indie' guys - band The Wooden Sky. Their indie magic and Tom Petty covers brought out a side to everyone that I have not previously encountered, and am so happy that I did then!

The next week involved playing and recording the 'christal harmonica' (note: wine glasses) for a piece with oboe, performing 'my piece' again in Craig Day Day, jamming with a Kanun player - expert in middle-eastern music - which morphed into a day of comprehending 7-beat rhythms, experimenting with microtones and transcribing a whole piece, which has planned performances and recordings for kanun, flute and bass. I also had two wonderful lessons with Henk Guittart on the Leclair sonata, which culminated in a performance of it last night with harpsichord and continuo, and me avowing to read Quants' treatise 'On Playing The Flute'.

Wednesday 29th October is decidedly one of my favourite days in history. After our middle-eastern listening session turned into a chill day-long jam with Phaedon and Jake, Adam Kinner - room-neighour and wild tenor sax / clarinet / drums / singer / composer / player - put on a private show in his little room of improvisations and songs he'd cooked up during the residency so far. I was completely blown away by his stuff, which included playing clarinet into a snare drum and singing an interactive song whilst playing kit, which had the audience humming a pentatonic tune while he sang poetry about slaves. It all ended with us humming a melody in three parts, which he will use for a future recording of the work. It was such a love-filled moment, like a scene from Rent - it brought a tear to my eye.
We retired to the indie-boyz' hut once again where we had the craziest dance-party in the history of mankind. Everyone was going wild to james brown and jackson 5, shaking or banging any kind of instrument that was lying around.



The Wooden Sky, my new favourite thing have sadly left to begin a tour of Quebec, but we have had plenty to distract us from the indie-shaped hole in the universe that they left behind. My first ever pumpkin-carving session happened on thursday, and my team who did a stellar job of etching Barry Shiffman's (director of music here) face onto the squash were rewarded with a measly 'honourable mention'. Last night, my first real halloween saw a funk party with live band (of course) in farrally halls, and a mixed-bag of nutty costumes. I went as Old Gregg of the Mighty Boosh fame, and awarded myself best-costume prize of the night for involving a torch to create my 'downstairs mix-up'.

over and out