Habeas Papam

A beautiful soul lost in someone else's expression.

Well, it's never happened before, I must say. I really do appreciate what you guys think about what I do, but I'm obliged myself to keep a sense of perspective. As a craftsman I cannot hold a candle to some of the others that I've seen so far. Not to the greats, who I'll never meet probably, and not even to our peers. It would be really stuck up or self delusional to pretend that there is no one better.

But it's a great feeling, when I am successful at transmitting meaning. Striking how much you can read into it. To that extent it's moments like these that keep that side of me going. An overly skewed worship of the technique, perhaps, is what we're in danger of falling into. To see a carefully crafted piece of art is definitely a remarkable thing, but the stule and the medium is relevant only insofar as they serve to transmit meaning between two isolated souls. How the greats use imagination and language are striking, but it's even more striking that these coded messages can be interpreted by so many people. Which is why I'm suspicious of experimental art. Because they all seem to hold technique as paramount, and while the technique is intriguing, I'm not convinced that they have anything actually to say.

And what you said reminded me that how you say it must always be subjugated to serve what you have to say. I guess I have been unfair in that sense...to cultivate a critical eye of young writing based on how well they use technique, when what should be remarkable is what they are trying to say. And if the message is genuine, then as long as the style is adequate to transmit it, the work is worth remarking on.

So anyone can write. It's finding something new to say that is still the key.

* * * * *

Watching the Pope's inauguration mass just now on BBC, and it was most impressive. The millions of people squeezed into St. Peter's Square, and the streets surrounding the Vatican, and the great colour-coded crowd, the red of the Cardinals, the white of the Priesthood, and the gold of the Bishops. The new Pope on his high seat at the doors of the Basilica, resplendent in gold. And the gleaming white block that forms the altar full in the sun. Flags and pennants waving. It struck me that the Catholic Church really uses symbolism well. It must be the most sanctioned monarchy on Earth, in the way that it portrays itself publicly. And everything was undeniably theatrical. The unambiguous use of symbols and song, the play of the light, the choreographed and rehearsed movements of the Mass. All the way down to the fanning out of the priests to distribute Holy Communion.

But what was most remarkable for me was that I could still follow the mass. The thing was carried out in Italian, with bits of it in other languages...the First Reading in English, the Second one in Spanish, and the Gospel in the ancient media of Latin and Greek. And bits in French, German, even Chinese. But the beautiful thing about the ritual is that it's the same wherever you go, and whatever the occasion. A mass is always a mass. And the symbols are universal, as is the sequence. That's why churches are always places of refuge for me, no matter where I go...things remain the same in churches. And no matter where you are, or what language is being spoken, when you see that Host and that cup, you know the meaning. You share in something common.

Despite the usual political platitudes, the Pope did say that we are never alone in faith.

It must have been bizarre to be there in person. So much religious energy zapping in the air. Catholic practice has never been particularly lively, but at the Vatican today it looked impressive due to the scale alone. Majestic, monolithic. Myself, I'm not into blatant or obvious signs of religion. It feels too much like imposing on other people my own beliefs, if I make it obvious that I'm praying. Religious life on a social moral level seems to be a better idea, so people don't realise that you're being religious, but they can feel something good anyway. But I wonder what it would have been like to be there, and exchanging the Sign of Peace in so many different languages.

* * * * *

Pasar malam again. They have this rather fascinating stall selling Ramly Burgers, which are like intriguing concoctions of beef and mayonnaise fried on top of a layer of egg, and then the whole thing wrapped in an omelette and placed in between buns on a bed of lettuce. And there was quite a crowd around the stall, everyone watching that man working behind the grill. It's not as classy as Macs, and so it's much better. At least Ramly Burgers are honest. And anyway, they taste better than anything Macs comes up with =P

It'll be quite sad when the pasar malam ends. It's the biggest one I've ever seen in Simei, and it's been entertaining walking through it from the station on the way home. That kind of life that it attracts, the characters that it pulls out of the anonymity of daily routine, is really refreshing. Invigorates the Simei air. Probably in a few days time the pasar malam will be gone, leaving only a well trodden stretch of grass that will remind me on the way home that a passing gypsy caravan had been there.

* * * * *

This morning it suddenly struck me that SYF is coming in four days' time. Suddenly overcome with anxiety and apprehension, when a flash of imagination put me in the audience waiting for the results to come out. What if we don't get that Gold? Personally I don't mind so much...Drama SYF has taught me that much. But so many people that I know and care about are hoping against hope for that Gold with Honours. And the worst thing is that I know so little about the competition, and the quality of playing there. On Thursday I'll be walking right into the dark on the Conference Hall stage. But then again, lots of the ensemble will be too. Which is why it's so nervousness-inducing, I guess.

But dress rehearsal on Sat went very well, I thought. Everyone in our really sleek-looking stage costumes, playing with more decorum and expression than ever before. And we ended in high spirits, though the thing dragged on. Heh, we're still a bit lagging on the stage presence side, but we're getting there. Perhaps the last ingredient for a fantastic performance will be the live audience.

Anyway, took lots of great photos of the ensemble in dress rehearsal to use for our Concert's programme booklet. I had reservations about the costume previously, but those photos have vanquished any doubts about that =) And so we enter the last leg of this preparation. I look forward, not without trepidation, but definitely with eagerness.

pondered by phoenican @ 24.4.05