Mozart Requiem; auditions; packing my bag

Last night I went to the concert hall at the BOZAR, to see the chorus and orchestra of the Théâtre royal de la monnaie perform the Mozart Requiem. I had a chance to meet the chorus master, and discuss scheduling an audition, which won't happen until I get back from Canada, in the second half of November. He indicated that there will be general auditions later on in the year, but that he'd be happy to hear me sooner, and that there might be some positions opening up. Based on the strong male presence in the chorus that I heard last night, it sounds like it would be a good gig to start in. It's close to home, and a prestigious house that attracts world-class conductors, directors, and soloists; Jennifer Larmore was the contralto soloist last night, for example (she was really quite impressive).

I was really astonished at the duration of the audience reaction... I had no clue that they were going to be so appreciative before they started applauding, but they must have really enjoyed the concert, as the applause went on for a very long time. Five or six curtain calls, I believe. I don't remember hearing such sustained applause in a Canadian concert, ever. I get the sense that audiences really do like to show their appreciation here, much more so than in North America, where often it is either short, perfunctory applause, or everybody seems to give a stading ovation for every performance (which is almost worse, I think). This came across as a genuine and appropriate acknowledgement of the efforts of the performers.

While hanging about near the stage door waiting to meet the chorus master, I also recognized someone from his photograph in Opera magazine: it was Peter de Caluwe, the new intendant (General Director) of La Monnaie. I went up and introduced myself as a Canadian baritone newly arrived to live for the next several years in Brussels. He was very nice, and extremely gracious, and smiled when I told him that I was singing a Mozart Requiem myself in Canada in a week, and said "Well this was your dress rehearsal then!" I mentioned that I had spoken with the administrator at the theatre and hoped to sing for him sometime soon, he indicated that the best thing was to go through that channel to arrange something.

I haven't locked down any more auditions yet, but have some nibbles. So far here is the status:

• Antwerp - Bart Van Rijn / Octopus Kammerchor Antwerp (completed in September)
• Cologne - ZBF (upcoming Dec. 3rd)
• Paris - agency audition (to be scheduled but the agency confirms they are interested in hearing me)
• Brussels - European Union Choir (upcoming in January)
• Brussels - La Monnaie chorus audition (upcoming late November)
• Brussels - Idee Fixe opera (will miss general audition but director has asked me to call when I get back from Canada, will likely hear me late November)

So it's slow but steady.

Today I'm doing my packing up to get ready to leave... my plane flies out of Brussels at 7:10 tomorrow morning, so it'll be a very early wake-up for me! I expect to arrive in Canada at 14:30, so should be out of the airport by 15:30. If I feel up to it, I think I'll head down to Phil Kaegi's wine festival at the Ex, and taste a few French wines, and make some contacts to follow up on later. If I am too tired, then I'll just head straight to Bruces' house to crash and be done with it.

Next episode: back in Canada

Hallowe'en parties; in bed for five days; in-laws' visit

So as you can see, Hallowe'en came a little early for our two little ones. Because of the week-long vacation that begins Monday October 29th, the school celebrated Hallowe'en last week, on the 19th.

Needless to say we were caught a little flat-footed by this rearrangement of our autumn schedule. Costumes were hastily brought to order; by some fluke, Malcolm's recent bow-and-arrow fascination (triggered by his winning one at the Fete de Glons a couple of weekends ago) was encouraged by the unearthing of a native N. American Indian costume from the depths of the cave. He was just fine in this getup!

Duncan on the other hand wanted to be Batman, and since his habitual (two years running) batman costume was half a world away in a box in Toronto, Dad had to do some creative thinking. Some cardboard from a box, elastic from an old pair of fruit-of-the-looms and a sharpie served to make a serviceable cowl/mask, although after he wore it enthusiastically for 30 minutes, Duncan began to hate it, declaring that it hurt his eyes. So much for dad's triumph of engineering!

We went to the party at the school that evening, and the meal was quite good; potage au legumes that the kids had made, plus barbequed chicken, many salads, and wonderful desserts, not to mention the choice of beers served out of the gymnasium cafeteria, each with their appropriate glass. Still, I think the boys were expecting some traditionally Hallowe'en-y type activies, and we went home empty-handed. I know Malcolm was disgusted: as we trudged back down the hill, he muttered, "Dad, these people don't know anything about Hallowe'en."

It was a reminder that for our kids, anything short of a costumed neighborhood-wide romp in search of maximum candy is not the real deal. Hallowe'en is a fairly new celebration here in Belgium, so perhaps we need to give it a little time.

* * *

I'm celebrating being up an about again, after spending all week (since last Sunday) in bed with a terrible influenza... fever, shakes, hot sweats, weakness, dizziness, muscle aches, digestive problems, you name it, I had it, and it laid me low pretty much until yesterday afternoon. Today I actually went out to an open-air market with Maggie, her parents, and the boys, but it was my first time out of the house since last Sunday, and I really haven't had the energy even to write anything as a blog entry. Thank goodness it seems to be clearing up now; I need to get back in good form for Thursday, when I leave for Toronto. I'm singing two concerts there over the next couple of weeks and need to be in shape for those.

Maggie's parents have been here for a week and a half; they have made various side trips to Antwerp, Brugge, and Paris. It's great to see them and for the kids to spend time with their grandparents. This being school vacation I expect I'll have more to write about our experiences with Hugh and Sheila and the kids in a day or two.

More later!

Emily's visit (continued)

The last couple of days with Emily were filled with activity. She went with Malcolm on Wednesday to the Da Vinci Expo that we had seen earlier, and he returned full of plans for his own flying machines, involving intricate intermeshing wooden cogs. On Thursday I stayed home and sang and called opera houses for the morning and practiced, while she shopped with Maggie (they bought new Swatches), and then we met for lunch at the Golden Wheel just off the Grand'place. No visit to Brussels is complete without moule frites! I came back to do some more work in the afternoon, and they shopped some more before coming home for dinner.

Finally on Friday, we went to the BOZAR (the museum of Modern art) for an expo called The Grand Atelier, and believe me, it was absorbing. Ancient illuminated manuscripts from the 7th century, recently unearthed sculpture from Bulgaria, ivory book covers from the 11th century, paintings from all eras, this was an expo designed to explore the history of European cross-pollination of culture throughout the last two millenia. The beauty of some of these items was really quite tremendous, and the expo has excellent descriptive signs for each exhibit in French, Flemish and English, so we had no need to use the audioguide. The exhibit was also very large, so we took a break halfway through and had a Stella in the museum cafe to rejuvenate ourselves before carrying on to do the second half.

We had a nice dinner that evening, and Emily was heading home early the next morning via an overnight in London. She got up at 4:00 AM to take a taxi, and then a bus to the Brussels Charleroi airport, a regional airport 60 Kms or so south of Brussels, used by airlines such as Ryanair to avoid the higher airport taxes that come with landing at a closer airport such as the main Brussels one. Likewise she landed at an airport some distance from London, but the price couldn't be beat: 30 Euros.

It was great having her here as our first family guest, but she won't be the last: Maggie's parents arrive on Monday evening the 15th for a two-week stay.

next post: Cramignon!

L'Art Nouveau à Bruxelles

We've had a busy week, so I have had little time to blog. In the last blog entry I did mention Emily's visit, but forgot to explain what we did the first day she was here. She was going to go with me, but preferred to rest and recuperate from her trip, so she watched the kids and Maggie came instead, and we decided to go on a walking tour of Brussels Art-Nouveau houses, in the communes Ixelles and Saint-Gilles.

This tour started at the Horta Museum, the former home and studio of Victor Horta, a striking example of Art-Nouveau architecture and interior design, and ended at another building (the hotel pictured at left). It was very enlightening, and very good exercise. I can see why people here can eat and drink the food that they do, yet still remain slim; every Saturday and Sunday you see people outside, visiting museum, going for promenades, cycling, rollerblading and running, and of course taking the walking tours. It seems a very active culture, without being hurried about it. Our ankles and knees are already toughening up, and the uneven cobblestones don't seem to bother me as much as they did when I first visited.

The art-nouveau architects such as Victor Horta, or Paul Hankar were extremely influential around the turn of the 19th-20th century, and they used a number of distinctive decorative techniques, among them mosaics, ironwork, glass (in distinctive window shapes) and something else that I hadn't heard of before, called sgrafittes (or in italian, sgraffitto). This is a technique of applying a base of black plaster to the wall, and after letting it dry applying further successive coats in differing colours, with the lightest coat on the top. Then you carve into the plaster, revealing various colours depending on how deep you cut. It's a quite distinctive and apparently durable way of decorating the outside of a building; you can see some quite beautiful sgrafittes in the picture at the top of this page, a photo of the Hôtel Ciamberlani, built in 1897.

Maggie and I both have soft spots for this art form, one that was extremely influential, and we first discovered through the building, furniture and pottery of Charles Rennie Mackintosh (in Scotland), and the poster art of Alphonse Much (a Czech artist). However the echoes of Art Nouveau exist even now: in the recent film adaptation of The Lord of the Rings; Bilbo's house, and Elrond's house in particular are very art nouveau in design, and there is something magical and organic about them.

A fantastic week-end; Cloes family reunions; Le Cramignon de Glons; JR's NSU race-car; Maggie's birthday

Here is a picture that I think captures a little bit of the spirit of the cramignon that Maggie and I enjoyed this past weekend in Glons. In Maggie's words, the weekend was "mind-blowing", full of unforgettable moments. We've made a few very nice friends here in Brussels, but we had two weeks of the summer before school began to get to know the Cloes, and this weekend showed us even more how special they are, and how lucky we are to have been adopted by this wonderful family (THANKS BRUCE!).

We arrived in Glons by train, mid-Saturday morning, and were met at the train station there by JR. After a quick stop at Mami Cloes' to say hello, we made our way to the loft, where we dropped our bags and headed up the street to Nathalie and Tchi-tchi's. They were out for the moment, so we explored JR's workshop just down the street. This is in an old building that used to house a helmet factory, and that JR has converted into an apartment/clubhouse and a garage. Maggie had fun modeling one of the 1960s-era helmets that had been left there when the factory closed, and the boys were thrilled with all the cool stuff JR has stashed in there, including a couple of juke boxes, his BMW motorcycle, and of course his NSU racing car!

The boys were really excited to see a REAL racing car and when JR asked if they wanted to go for a ride, their eyes got very big and of course they said yes, please.

Well, let me tell you, Malcolm, Duncan, Maggie and I each had a little run around the village in that car with JR at the wheel, and it sticks to the road like glue. It was a really quite an amazing little car, with a 1000-cc rear mounted engine, but man, could it fly, and corner like a dream. I was astonished at the responsiveness of the thing, and the degree to which you are connected with the road... JR has it tuned up exactly to his specs; with both of us in it (each of us weighing in at between 80 and 90 kilos) you could feel each little bump on the undercarriage; JR said he could adjust the suspension for two, but it means taking the wheels off, and he usually drives it solo.

While we were enjoying our respective rides in the NSU, Anaïs and her friend arrived, signalling that Michel and his contingent had made the trek from Paris successfully. Nathalie and the kids arrived soon after, and we all regrouped at Nathalie and Tchi-tchi's place for a great lunch of a number of different cheeses, a tuna salad and some delicious home-cooked frites. The weather was so beautiful we soon moved outside, and Michel, Diana, Christophe, JR, Maggie and I, along with Jean and Chantal, enjoyed the warmth of the afternoon after a long week of cool misty weather in Brussels.

The kids dispersed to the four directions as the afternoon progressed, and as evening approached Isabel and Jean came by to take us to the cramignon. Diana and Michel were extremely gracious hosts, and offered to look after the boys while we went on to get registered and pay our 20 Euros.

I was dressed, as were all the other men, as Tchantchès, the Walloon marionette, and Maggie as Nanèsse his long-suffering wife. We had a little glass of beer while waiting for the cramignon to begin. Picture a crowded little legion hall, with benches on the walls, and trestle tables, framed mirrors and photographs, and a noisy crowd dressed up to party, with a brass band tuning up in the corner and you get the idea.

We had the whole thing explained to us by Isabel and Jean, and also had some help along the way from Chantal and Jean, and also Manu and Maryanne, mambers of the Cloes family we hadn't met before. The cramignon is led by two different couples on either end of a long line, each Tchantchès on either end of the line holding a bouquet of flowers. The Nanèsses of the crowd are each given two iron hooks, handles really, that resemble a drawing of an hourglass. Each holds one in either outstretched hand, and her husband grabs hold of one, and the man from the next couple grabs the other. The band strikes up the tune, and it begins!

The cramignon passes in front of the slowly marching brass band like a long flowing ribbon of people, forming swirling concentric loops that pass each other as the whole group organism moves, caterpillar-like down the various streets of the village. The band plays many familiar songs: French, Walloon, and even Irish, Scottish, English and Spanish ones, and all the people sing along at the top of their lungs as they dance...

At each stop (and there are perhaps ten) the band finishes its playing with a special tune, one that signals all involved to crouch down as the flag bearer runs up and down the ranks of people, the edge of the flag passing gently over their shoulders, before suddenly jumping up again with a shout. Then it's time for a little glass of péké or Genièvre, the Belgian gin that they drink chilled, or mixed with coke, or else Jupiler, the most popular beer in Belgium. Ask for a glass of water at the cramignon and they look at you funny. Depending on the stop you could order some frites, or have a piece of potato with bacon and cheese.

After twenty minutes, the band strikes up a tune again, and it's off to join the line again, this time most likely with a new couple on either end. This continued from around 19h when we started until after midnight, and many vivid memories stand out.

... Maggie laughing and mugging for the camera with Jupiler labels stuck to her glasses (I think she's finally fitting in); the faces of the brass players, incredibly serious and intense with concentration; the flag waver who led the singing and the band; the many french songs; the sensation of dancing and singing together, a whole village, underneath the stars as we pass through the streets, drinking and laughing continually but still somehow not getting drunk, but simply exhilarated; the teenagers out for the evening with us, not taking part but merely but watching, some dressed up a bit, with open, interested faces, the police presence of two (2) walking officers who slowly ambled along 50 metres or so in advance of the crowd... and then the freshly made gaufres lacquement and the hot baked potatoes warming us up at the stops.

It was really grand, and a high point of our stay in Europe so far, for both of us. This is the kind of thing that we came to Europe to experience, and it was very special.

p.s. click here for details of the next day, Maggie's birthday.

A visit by my sister; a Rubens exhibit; barbeque success; more cold calls

It's been quite a while since my last post, so I'll sum up how things have been going in a number of subsections.

1) Malcolm
We met him at the school last Friday afternoon, and he seemed intact, and quite pleased to see us. The report from his teacher was that he had done very well, and that there were no problems. He asked immediately if we had received the letters, and his mother replied that she had and that they had made her cry... his face grew quite pink for the next few moments as they had some quiet words a little ways away, and when he returned he was subdued.

It turns out that it was all a joke, but of course in the absence of a wink, facial expressions, tone of voice, etc., we couldn't tell for sure. I hope that he's learned the lesson of the novice emailer: make it very clear that you are joking, or better yet, don't joke about something emotional in a letter at all!

2) Emily
My sister arrived on Saturday for a week's visit... so far she has settled in very nicely, and is feeling right at home. Yesterday Maggie and Emily and I went to the Royal Museum of Fine Art and saw a Rubens exhibition that was breathtaking. I had seen some of the big altarpieces in 2004, but they were if anything even more staggering, and there were many other smaller works that I hadn't seen before (The picture that I've added at the top of this message is one that struck me particularly strongly). The altar paintings are twenty feet high, and incredible in their clarity, colour, gritty detail and emotional impact.

I know we've all been very glad to see Emily; Duncan has been talking to her a lot, and she and Malcolm have gone off this afternoon to the Da Vinci exhibition at the Basilica of St. Catherine. I'm sure they'll come back raving about it just as we did.

3) Thanksgiving
It was a bit odd celebrating Thanksgiving this past monday... it was great to have Emily here, of course, and we cooked a nice capon for dinner (no luck finding dinde) but I felt a little bit blue, a feeling that's been coming on for a while. Perhaps it was because of the grey weather, perhaps because of being away from Canada on a holiday; perhaps because Thanksgiving, like other holidays, serves as sort of a marker, a significant tick on the watch-face of the year. Thanksgiving since I was a child and a student has always meant for me a change in the quality of feeling, both in the world outside (as the cool clear days of early autumn, my favorite time of year, pass into the wet and colder days of late October and November) and in school, where the novelty of a new year, with its new pens, binders, and a brick-like stack of fresh three-hole-punched blue-lined notepaper begins to fade, and the real work begins. With each of these seasonal markers that pass, I realize how long we have been here in Brussels, and I feel a stronger sense of urgency to progress in my auditioning.

It's always this way for me, up and down emotionally when work is plentiful and when it is scarce. The difference now is that I really don't have another routine that centres around my day job, and as much as I enjoy the freedom to practice on my own terms, the challenge of living without a significant external structure of work can be daunting. I know it seems ridiculous to feel dissatisfied with freedom, but it is the truth... creating your own structure can be made easier by introducing daily routines, but even so it is exhausting, kind of like pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps, and requires a lot of discipline. It doesn't hurt to set yourself a little competition. I certainly need the encouragement of my colleagues, friends and family more than ever now.

4) Auditions
So far the total number of auditions scheduled is three, with one completed. The two other ones are with a choral concert conductor, and the ZBF, the central artist agency in Cologne, Germany. I've been making myself very busy calling around, and the magnitude of the task was starting to make it difficult to maintain my concentration... keeping track of who had been called, when, and who needed material emailed, who wanted it posted, who needed a follow-up reminder, etc. was becoming difficult to manage.

I decided to start a new journal file with contact names of new Belgian, French and German houses/agents, and at the same do an inventory of my older files to help focus my efforts on the people I had spoken with in February. I've been adding notations to each contact, and have a better sense of how I'm doing now.

This morning, for example, I called 15 different places in Belgium and France, and for nearly all of them I followed up with emails. That doesn't sound like a lot, but it's very tiring, especially if your telephone french isn't great (although mine is improving, like most things, through suffering). So far out of the 15, two said that they could not offer me auditions at this time; two said they are interested in hearing me but will call me when auditions are scheduled, one suggested I call in mid-February, as the conductor will be here in Brussels around that time. Two more want me to mail them CDs, and the remainder have only just received my emailed bio and c.v. and have not yet responded.

I'm highly motivated to contact these people; it's hard to get going but when you do secure an audition it feels great, and sets up the rest of your day. I am in a little competition with my tenor friend Keith Boldt, who is very organized, and is busy getting himself established in Germany. As of last weekend, he had 10 auditions lined up already; if I'm going to catch up with him I need to keep at it!

5) barbeque

We have a great barbeque back in Canada, that we use several times a week, pretty much year-round. I was really missing the taste of grilled food, and the broiler on the oven here isn't terribly robust, so yesterday we decided to go for broke, and have some steaks and lardons on the barbie... man, they were great!

I must say that the barbeque here at our Brussels house is very, very modest, perhaps the size of a dinner plate (see photo at left). I am frankly quite envious of JR's barbeque back in Glons (see photo at right). It is made by Barbecook, and has a column of air underneath it, with ventilation holes, so you can stuff a couple sheets of newpaper into the column, light it, and the heat is intense enough to start the coals going without fluid or firelighters. Maybe I'll take a look at Brico, the local hardware store, and figure out if we really can afford one. They do sell gas barbeques as well, but charcoal is for sale everywhere, why bother?

I think I'll head out now and drop by the post office; there are some discs from Amazon that I have to pick up, and I also have to mail out some CDs, etc. myself. Unfortunately I wasn't thinking, and had the two CDs mailed here in Belgium; as they were manufactured out of the continent I have to pay 10 Euros Value Added Tax. I should have had them shipped to family or friends who could bring them along when they are visiting; I didn't need them that badly!

Also I think I'll make the committment to getting a pass for the swimming pool, and resuming my exercise routine of swimming in the morning. I think that will make me feel a bit better, and it's good for reducing stress.

Nettine day IV: A new hope?

The third letter arrived this morning, addressed this time to Duncan... let's just say we were a bit trepidatious about opening it.

The theme remains constant, but there is a glimmer of hope, in that he provided a positive review of the food (see photo). That's something, I guess. Tomorrow is his return, so then we'll be able to verify exactly how bad Nettine actually was.

We had a great dinner of steak frites and salad with J. and K. across the street last night, with a lovely Alsace white before with smoked salmon and hummus appetizers, and then a bottle of Pauillac (which I loved) and a modest Châteauneuf-du-Pape (which for my taste was actually better with the cheese than with the steak). Delicious, and they are really very good company, which is nice. We've had a chance to refine our pizza technique since they came here for dinner the first time, so I think it's time for a repeat... maybe this weekend?

Yesterday afternoon, I had a grand adventure going by transit to three different stores pour faire des courses (doing my shopping): Brico (a Home Depot type store where I bought a few small tools for guitar repair) Carrefour (a Wallmart type store where I took back bottles and bought some blank CDs and a cheap telephone) and lastly Delhaize, the grocery, where I did most of my shopping. Maggie had put in a special request for some Hoegaarden Rosé, a new type of Hoegaarden bier blanche with raspberries ; I had two coupons for 1 € off the four-packs, plus if you bought two you got a free glass!

Today we are going to do some tidying and cleaning; Maggie has already vacuumed the main floor, and we have a list of things to accomplish. I had a request from a couple of companies that I called to submit a CD or DVD, so I think I'll try to glean a couple of video clips and put them on a disc. Then again I might just email them back and refer them to my myspace profile for listening. Editing together video and audio could easily turn into an all-day job, and Maggie needs the computer today: she has applications to submit for the next teaching year that she wants to get sent sooner rather than later. Tonight I'm heading out to check out a choral group, and meet the conductor, so I'll be doing some singing this afternoon as well.

"I want to go home!"

I would seem that there is no joy in Mudville, or rather, in the Ardennes... actually based on this week's weather, either name could probably be used...

It's Wednesday, day three of Nettine, our oldest boy's week-long stay at the Chateau owned by the commune's schools, and we were overjoyed to actually receive two letters in the mailbox from him this morning.

Imagine our surprise when we opened them to find these two letters.


Obviously we were struck forcibly by the message, especially considering our excitement at opening the first two letters our son has ever sent us by post! However, on further consideration, I wonder when he wrote them? Perhaps on the very first day? At the latest they were completed yesterday morning, from the postmark. Perhaps tomorrow will bring news of a different sort? He has two more self-addressed stamped envelopes in his pack, and I hope that he uses them as well, and that the wind has changed...

As well, it should be remembered that Malcolm is a huge Gordon Korman fan, and may be playing a little joke on us by quoting Korman's 1982 novel I Want to Go Home! He certainly loves to pull pranks, and to make reference to books, movies, jokes, etc. I hope that is the case, and from certain details ("Dear Mom", "Love Malcolm!", and the direct quote "I want'a go home!!!") I suspect that he's tapping into that particular role. At least I hope so.

More to come later on this, I'm sure, and I hope the news is better.

Today is cold and wet, and Maggie has the sniffles and a cough, so we're making a big pot of chicken (or possibly turkey; it was sold as "osso bucco volaille", which is simply "poultry") soup with leeks and carrots and shallots, garlic, a few peppercorns and chilis for bite, and some noodles, topped off with a dap of italian pesto and a few fresh basil leaves.

* * *

I had a whale of a sing yesterday morning, working through quite a few pieces, both old and new. These included:

• a first look at the "tuba mirum" from Mozart's Requiem
• "Hai gia vinta la causa", the Count's aria from Figaro
• "Come Paride vezzoso", Belcore's aria from L'Elisir d'Amore
• my own first workthrough of Papageno's "Suicide Aria" from Die Zauberflötte
• "Lieben, Hassen, Hoffen, Zagen", Harlequino's aria from Ariadne auf Naxos
• "O, Nadir", Zurga's aria from Les pêcheurs de perles

... and a little bit of Handel's "Why do the nations" from Messiah to finish off. Needless to say, I seldom sing through so many different pieces at once, unless I am actually in an opera or preparing a concert, but yesterday I felt wonderful, after taking a couple of days off from singing.

The old opera singer's adage has two parts: the first is that there are only five days per year when you are in excellent voice; unfortunately the second part is that you don't have gigs on any of those days! Still, I'm really enjoying the opportunity to sing every day, and to not have the stress of my day job to tense me up and tire me out. My voice is definitely feeling good from daily practice, in the mornings when my energy level is at its best. It really is necessary to sing your audition pieces through every day, so you can do them well whether you feel good or bad, if you are calm or stressed, if you are sick or healthy, or at a moments' notice.

I have a choral rehearsal here in Brussels to attend tomorrow evening to meet a conductor, and arrange for an audition as a soloist. I will warm up, go there early, and take along my audition pieces just in case he asks me to sing right away, but I suspect he will be occupied with his rehearsal.

I've also contacted some more concert organizations here in Brussels; the three main opera companies have indicated that they will contact me when auditions can be held, so I can't do much on that front. Instead I will concentrate on the concert groups until I hear back from the opera companies.

Our friend Keith Boldt just moved to Köln, just a short distance away, and one of the closest German cities to us. He is pursuing his career as a tenor, and I'm very interested to hear how he's doing. The German system for hiring singers is a bit different here; they tend to hire people for the entire season, and I may have to have an agent to get work there, but my calls should be done soon. The audition season there is at the end of October but if I don't want to miss it I have to call them now.

Tonight we are visiting our good neighbors across the street, who have two daughters around the same age as our two boys. In fact the eldest is at Nettine right now with Malcolm, so it will be just the two youngest. Hopefully they will be missing their siblings enough to play peacefully together.

Maggie's blog...

...is way more interesting than mine.

I noticed that she made a couple of posts today that go into more detail about our adventures this past weekend at the B.D. Museum, and the departure yesterday of our oldest son for one week at a Chateau in the Ardennes.

Enjoy them both, along with the rest of her postings,

Matthew

Grand'place with les boys

So yesterday was Sunday, and it was suddenly clear and bright and warm. After a week that was mostly rainy, we were thrilled. Maggie needed some sunbeam time, so I took both boys on an adventure to go to the antique market at Notre Dame du Sablons, which is held just next to a beautiful Gothic church of the same name, built in the 15th and 16th centuries.

The market was of a modest size, but the items were very high quality; no junk market surprise deals here! We looked at a couple of different carpets, antique paintings and engravings, and some Valle Saint-Lambert crystal, which is Belgian, highly collectible, and very beautiful. After a half an hour or so, we had had enough, and stopped in at Le Pain Quotidien for a small baguette and a couple of pain raisin and went to check out Petit Sablon, a former square that was converted into a park in 1890, and sits just opposite the church.

The boys and I snacked a bit there, and looked at the many statues of famous scientists and engineers that lined the perimeter of the park, each in their carefully manicured ivy alcove. The central fountain is surmounted by a statue of the Counts of Egmont and Hoorn, two noblemen who led a revolt against Phillip II of Spain in the sixteenth century, and were executed by the Duke of Alva. As well, around the outer perimeter, facing out, are smaller statues of many of the medieval arts and trades that made Brussels prosperous in the middle ages.

With our immediate hunger now assuaged, it was time to take a little walk down to the Grand'place. Along the way we ran into a number of interesting things, including a man painted entirely in gold, who would ring the bell on his golden bicycle if you dropped a coin into the basket (both boys gave it a try). Then we walked into the Grand'place itself, and the boys were truly amazed.

Malcolm in particular was almost speechless at the sight... he kept repeating "I can't believe this is real... the artwork is incredible... this is the most amazing thing I've ever seen..." etc. etc. For someone who has a liking for old buildings, fine details and decoration, he was in heaven. Duncan was less vocal with his appreciation but was fascinated by the amount of gold all over the buildings, and the many statues of angels and historical figures.

We noticed also the large number of Scouts/Guides at work in the Grand'place; apparently Sunday is a big day for Scouting. Malcolm and Duncan noticed one group of Guides who were testing out the old "string and two cups" telephone, and asked to try it out. They were astonished to find out that it actually worked! The boys also had a chance to assist in the Guide's scavenger hunt activities: apparently the Guides each had to give a boy a bizou (a kiss on the cheek) as one of their tasks. It's funny but I don't remember that kind of thing back home in Canada... oh well. Both boys complied, with somewhat pink faces; they are old hands at kissing now, after more than a month in Belgium.

We had a tour around the square and then sat down at La Rose Blanche for an order of moule frites and something to drink. The moules were not exactly to Duncan's taste, although I enjoyed them, and so did Malcolm, indicating that they were almost as good as the ones he's used to having at Allen's pub, on the Danforth.

We finished off our explorations by visiting the Manekin Pis, that famous statue of the little boy who pees. Don't ask me why this is so famous; both boys loved it. He was dressed up in a special little coat and hat, an ensemble that changes frequently depending on the calendar. Then we walked back up the hill to get on the streetcar home.

After we got home we were naturally quite hungry again, so we made we made a lot of pizza together. In fact, Maggie and the boys were so excited about the pizza that they formed a conga line to celebrate...