Concert

Concert time!
Friday night, Odense Koncerthus. The programme was Beethovens 4. piano concert and Shostakovich 14. symphony. Beethoven is invariably for me something special. Many consider Mozart to be the greatest. I don't disagree - his oeuvre leaves nothing to be desired. It is perfect in all respects. Beautiful music just (!) picked out of the skies, borrowed from the gods of music to bring us joy.

Ludwig - is another matter. Beethovens music is a work of extremes: jubilant joy in contrast with the deepest sorrow and bitterness. When he is joyful few other composers match him. His fourth piano concert leaves me almost in tears each time I hear it - ditto for his first violin concerto, I still remember the first time I as a young man heard it. Merely calling to mind bits from the concerto (Wolfgang Schneiderhahn as soloist) still gives me goose-bumps. I've had the fortune of hearing Anne-Sophie Mutters rendition of the sampe piece in Odense a couple of years ago - truly beautiful. I was elated for hours afterwards.

Alas - the concert: The pianist - Herbert Schuch (photo above - no, to the left!) admirably joined the task together with the spirited orchestra of bringing Beethovens melodiuos masterpiece to life - let me say they and he succeded with bravura. His play: subtle, energetic, pensive, joyful. It was all there my friends! We liked Schuchs performance so much he gave the encore of encores: Mozarts Rondo Alla Turca. Suffice it to say he brought the house down - sparks flew from his perfomance, technical brilliance and gusto to his style of play - Wolfi must have been pleased no end in his heavens. Listen out for Herbert Shuch out there, his star is on the ascent!

Shostakovich was an other matter. His symphony is more of a musical cyklus done over poems by Lorca, Apollinaire, Rilke and others, than a symphony in the classical sense. The sombre theme of the poems is death - Shostakovich isn't protesting against death, but death brought about by war, executions and violence. Sombre indeed, but very moving.

Why golf?

Hmm... As a golfer I shouldn't be asking this question or maybe that's exactly the question to ask. Sometimes when your game goes haywire and the shots are dispersed all over the course, the question inevitably pops up: Why don't I give up the game and do something productive with my costly spare time?
I'll give you my answer to the riddle: simplicity, complexity, improbability, refinement, gratification and play.
Golf is essentially a simple game: it's you, your abilities, your gear, the ball and the course. The ball doesn't move prior to your hitting it, you don't have to deal with opponents physically as in many other sports. On another note golf is a wildly complex game: all of the above components interact in myriads of ways not easily predicted, even less easily controlled.
Golf is probably one of the most improbable games in the world given it's fundamentals: the lenght of the clubs you use and their ridiculously small heads, the tiny ball (roughly 42 mm in diametre), the lenght of the holes (up to nearly half a kilometre for the longer ones) and the difficulties you may encounter en route to the tiny "cup" in the green, awaiting the ball. I know of no other game where the minuteness of the ball-contact area on your tools is in such stark proportion to the vast distances the ball is supposed to cover in relatively few shots (five or less for holes of nearly half a kilometre, ideally)
Once on the green, your tribulations are not over. Your objective is now to send the ball rolling into a hole of a diametre of 104 mm, on a bad day you may find your ball sitting a goodish 20 metres from the cup. Even if it's closer, as it's supposed to be, easy success is not granted.

Refinement and dedication is my answer to the improbabilities and complexities of the game. You have a gazillion tons of grooving to do before your coarse beginners mechanics are moulded into something that's usable and dependable over and over again. Ideally you have to be able to perform without thinking consiously about how to do your different shots mechanically. This can entail exercise shots running into the hundred thousands or more before the ol' autopilot is to be reasonably trusted. Moreover it's a work that never ends. So liking the hard, lonely work on the driving range definitely is, to this golfers mind, a bonus.

When everything clicks gratification sets in. Your swing works, you rotate seeming effortlessly the body around your spine, arms and hands follow suit, the clubhead meets the ball with a soft "plop" - you see the ball sail off in the air on a long, sweeping parabola, land on the green grass, hop a few times and roll to a stop. Rotation, suppleness and the strenght and grace of a ballet-dancer are the words of magic here, not brute force, mes amis.

I never play to win. I play to play - if I do it well, I win. Winning is an added bonus, but it isn't therefore I play golf. If I lose it's because I've performed badly, it is really that simple. What keeps my interest in the game alive is the joy of making all of the elements in golf: mechanics, the course, the weather, the conditions work in unison to produce a string of situations where you feel you can rise to the challenges of the game in a both physical and mental ( Zen?) way.
Although you often play together with other golfers, golf is by its nature a game for soloists, you are essentially on your own on the course. Golf can never be mastered, it's not a game to be controlled.

If you want the essentials on golf

Saturday: shopping, photos, editing, flickr

Flyer
Originally uploaded by Joern W.

I went to Odense, (a shortish trip, I live in the suburbs) in order to take my little Nikon 5200 for a spin. When I'd done shopping I went to Brandts in order to see the photographic exhibitions there. I was quite taken with "The Sacred Legacy" but saddened too by its abundantly clear message: we're as a species not terribly good at taking care of other human beings, animals nor the planet itself, for that matter. I wonder if a contemporary Edward Curtis sees fit to come by and photograph our lives before we sink into the waves from the melting ice and snow?

The other part of the exhibition was devoted to a reknowned Danish press photographer, Tage Christensen, who for almost fifty years was active with a Danish newspaper, "Politiken". Great photographer, many stunning and evocative shots in the exhibition.
So inspired I proceeded to do my own shots, outdoors although a bitterly cold sou'easter made it quite a challenge. I stumbled on a couple of boys doing tricks with their skateboards - a godsend for a fledling photographer eager to try out his cameras finesses. At first the boys stopped and took up the usual pose, stiffly, with their boards held up like trophies. I asked them to go on skating, and within a couple of seconds they had completely forgotten me and I was free to shoot away.
Home to a late lunch and then Bach on the CD-player: "Das Wohltemperierte Klavier" in Glenn Goulds masterly rendition - a fitting musical setting for the weeding out I had to do. Inspired by JSB's clarity and stringency I set to work.
Of the whole set of 70+ photos only a few made it past yours truly's scrutinizing. The shot above is one example, click on it to go to flickr should you be so disposed. Regard them as a my first attempt at approaching that most difficult and magical aspect of photography: the unique and elusive moment. Or, more eloquently put by Henri Cartier Bresson, who defines the "decisive moment" thus:
‘the simultaneous recognition, in a fraction of a second, of the significance of an event as well as the precise organization of forms which gives that event its proper expression."
High standards, but mediocre ones are not worth spending your time on.

It got quite late before I had finished my work, Michel Petrucciani another splendid and magical pianist, accompanied me into the wee hours with his lyrical and energetic style of play. So terribly sad he is no longer with us. Thank God for CDs!

The day ended on a note of wonder: I am constantly baffled by the talent of the flickrites - there are so many talented and tremendously inspiring people out there. Originally I joined flickr because I saw it as a means to get my pics out to friends and family - this it is. But the real strength of flickr is the notion of sharing and community that really drives it all. This is supported by great programmers and other it-savvy people who pitch in to make the whole thing click. Thank you all a gazillion times!!
:)
PS - To my English readers: I'll apologize just once - in this post - for the imperfections in my English. I love the language, but I'll never be fluent in it, sorry.
PPS - To my Danish readers: I write this in English as this is the lingua franca of flickr. Fairly warned be thee: other posts may follow.

Musikaften

Fredag aften, koncert med Odense Symforniorkester. Programmet bestod af "A quiet Place"/Leonard Bernstein; violinkoncert, e-mol/Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy og Symfoni nr. 3, Es-dur/Robert Schumann. På podiet den faste dirigent Paul Mann - ham må orkestret gerne tilbyde genansættelse, når hans kontrakt udløber! Han har energi og karisma, der når helt op på bagerste række i salen og det forplanter sig til orkestret der spiller med begejstring og drive under hans direktion, ikke noget med: "...sikke en masse noder, skal vi ikke snart hjem". Solisten i violinkoncerten var Suoyen Kim, ung violinist-(inde) der håndterede solostemmen med bravour og ubesværet teknik. Hende kommer vi til at høre mere til. Gik opstemt fra koncerten og hjem til et glas rødvin og en bid ost. Gav mig så til at lægge billeder fra Paris på Flickr, det blev som sædvanlig røg-nat inden jeg så dyner. Cheers.