Birthday parties... trips to Canada... found an apartment

This blog entry is a bit of a cheat, since I'm writing from Canada, and didn't really have time to do justice to the events of the last few weeks. I've been so busy that I've found it increasingly difficult to blog, and my notebook/journal (aka Blog 0.1) is lying fallow also. Let's try to catch you up a bit...

Duncan had his fifth birthday party on the 11th, which was a lot of fun. His guests and he spent a long afternoon in and out of the pool, and he really enjoyed himself; the weather was beautiful and we made the most of it. He received some lovely gifts, including a plastic petanque set for use in the garden, and they all started playing with it right away.

We had another eventful few days last weekend, which started with the school fete, which was a whole-day theatrical affair, complete with a large-scale rendition of "YMCA" (the grade 5s), a rendition of what we know in Canada as the "Chicken Dance", but have now learned is actually about a duck, and has French words (Duncan's class), and an homage to the Lucky Luke bandes dessinee (comics), complete with the villanous Daltons (Malcolm's class; he played a Dalton). Malcolm also was in another number, "Quand le musique est bonne", but I'll have to return to this topic when I get back home to Brussels, and I can post some pictures. Suffice it to say that we were all very impressed with the committment by all the students, boys and girls, to singing and dancing and performing, and are very proud of our two young singer/actors.

Sunday of that same weekend involved an early start, as we attended the St. John's international school "family day" with our friends Jonathan and Kristin and kids. We enjoyed the many international food tents, bouncy castles for the little ones, book sale and kids' fun fair style games, while socializing with Maggie's colleagues and students and their families.

We came home earlier than most, to put the finishing touches on Malcolm's party, which started later that same afternoon. He had all of his invitees in attendance, and although the weather was cooler, we had heated the pool sufficiently that they didn't waste much time in jumping in. The menu was collaboratively assembled pizzas, which Malcolm and his guests ate a surprising amount of, followed by a Sacher Torte (intense chocolate cake). A good time was had by all, and Malcolm really enjoyed hosting a party of his own; now that those kids all know where we live, it will be easier to arrange play dates from now on.

Monday was a day of preparation, and little rest as, Tuesday the 20th I left the house at 6:15 am to catch my flight to Toronto. This time I flew Jet Airways, and was really impressed. Excellent food (and lots of it), polite service, new spacious airplanes, inexpensive and direct; I can't imagine why I would use any other airline from now on to come back to Toronto.

I'll write some more about my Toronto/London/Kingston adventures in the next blog, but wanted to make mention of the fact that we have found an apartment fairly close to our existing home in Brussels, and will be moving into the new place upon our return this August. It's not terribly large but will accomodate us, the kids and guests; we don't have tons of furniture or items to store anyway, so it will do just fine. The cost is much less than our existing place, and it's well located, very close to shopping and several transit lines; we're looking forward to the move.

Until next podcast!

Happy Birthday Duncan

I got home the evening of the 30th to have a nice visit with my sister Emily, who was visiting us before she started an Italian tour. We had a relaxed evening while Maggie attended a performance of Cherubini's Medée with our friend Constant; I had originally planned to go but couldn't get back early enough to attend.

Maggie had made cupcakes for Duncan to enjoy and to share with his schoolmates on his actual birthday, but the next day he was presented with a chocolate cake that Maggie had baked for him, and he opened the presents he had been given. Both boys had a present of a four-day weekend: May 1st is the labour holiday, and Friday was a day off in lieu of Ascension... Yee-Haw, it's Belgium, a Socialist-Catholic country!

Oops, I just mentioned politics and religion in the same sentence; better stay on topic. Emily stayed with us all of Thursday, and we had a nice lunch out at a local restaurant and a dinner at home. No moules frites unfortunately; the season has just ended for a while, but we made do nicely with other things from the menu, and it was a very nice walk around the neighborhood.

Emily left early on the 2nd to start her ten-day tour of Rome, Sorrento, Florence, Milan and Venice (Wow!). I got up at 4:00 to see her off, and Maggie was awake, and had just come down with a terrible flu. Needless to say we were pretty tired from the sleep interruption, and Maggie's illness, and were a little stunned, but fortunately had Saturday to recuperate.

We needed to rest up, because the next day David and Greta arrived for their European Holiday. They jumped right into the Brussels lifestyle, dining al fresco on grilled salmon steaks in the garden and taking a dip in the pool to refresh themselves. Malcolm even showed David how to make his current favorite snack food: sirop de Liège on a piece of dark bread with a big slice of Abbey-made cheese on top (Belgium's trappist monasteries don't just make beer; they also manufacture a cheese that you can buy in the grocery store).

David and Greta showed no signs of jet lag and so were up at a normal time the next day, and we visited the open air market at Place Gilson and shopped for our dinner. Then on Monday, while Maggie and the kids were at school, the three of us went for a walking tour, starting at Place Louisa on the inner ring of the old city. We walked past Notre Dame du Sablon and continued through the Place Royale with its statue of Godefroi de Bouillon, first Christian King of Jerusalem following its capture during the First Crusade in 1099; he is believed to have been born in what is now Belgium. We passed by the Royal Palace and the Park of Brussels, and then turned down the hill, continuing through the gardens towards the spire of the city hall, visible in the distance.

It was a great day for a walk. It's really incredible how the weather has been the last week or so; I've written many times about the abominable climate here, but as Maggie posted, we're in the midst of a dry spell here. It's been sunny and in the low twenties since I got back from Montpellier, and this pattern is expected to continue for at least the next five days. The three of us enjoyed sitting outside and having lunch at La Brouette, a place which has become my personal favorite on the Grand'Place. We did a little more exploring and then I left them to their own devices while I went back home to meet Malcolm after school.

After more walking exploration on Tuesday - while I stayed home, called some opera houses, and rehearsed - early on Wednesday morning Dave and Greta took an early TGV to Paris. They are back tonight, so we're looking forward to hearing about their Parisian adventures. Maggie and I still haven't managed to make it to Paris yet as a couple; she's been a couple of times, as have I, but never together; we'll be interested to see how D & G felt about it their first time there, and take some notes for when we eventually go ourselves.

That's about it, I'm off to the Aquatic Centre. I resumed my routine yesterday after a couple of months off, and made twenty lengths (about 660 metres) in fifteen minutes before the large numbers of schoolchildren arriving for their two o'clock swim lessons made the waters unnavigable. I'm hoping to get in a full 30 lengths today, or maybe more, so I'm going to start earlier. The pool here in the backyard is nice but way too small for me, although Maggie and Kristin had a good time doing aquagym yesterday...

Montpellier part two

Montpellier day 3: April 28th: the Mediterranean coast

The Fletas were unavaible on Monday the 28th, and my audition wasn't until the 29th in the evening, so having rented the car for two days, I had some time to explore the nearby parts of Languedoc / Roussillon.  I headed southwest from Montpellier in the direction of Béziers, but instead of taking the superhighway, I first drove southeast to the coast and followed the shore as much as possible, passing through Frontignan, Sete and then arriving in Bouziges, where I intended to meet up with Gregory Hecht, one of the founders of the Hecht and Bannier wine label.

Sete was my first really good look at a mediterranean village, and it is charming, canals passing through the town centre.  It seems to be a fairly well-established shipping point also, as I saw numerous structures used for container loading and unloading.  The little boats moored by the canal side look venetian, and I saw a lateen rig for the first time on something besides a sunfish. 

I didn't stay long in Sete, but continued along the sea shore, through Frontignan, where the muscat grape vines were breaking out in new green.  It is amazing to drive through Languedoc, where the majority of wine consumed if France is grown, and to see the fields of grapevines stretching off in all directions.  Also I really understand now why the French speak naturally about the influence of terroir - the influence of a local soil, topography, and micro-climate - on a wine: in a matter of five minutes drive, you literally pass from one cultivated valley to the next, to find that the soil colour has changed suddenly from a pale sand to a deep, cinammon-cocoa brown.  The moisture level of the air suddenly changes, the quality of the sunlight seems different...  It's really quite amazing to pass through these pockets of growing space, like separate, climate-controlled greenhouses for growing grapes.

I continued on to Bouzigues without stopping at any of the numerous wineries that advertised tasting, public cellars and direct sales from roadside billboards, as I was sticking to the plan to go see Gregory Hecht.

(A brief word about the Hecht and Bannier brand: Bruce and I had been to Languedoc in July of 2005, and I had noticed how frequently the french enjoyed rosé in the summer.  Around the same time Phil Kaegi, a friend and neighbor, had delivered a case of a H & B's delicious rosé wine to us in Collingwood where we were house-sitting, and the delicate floral qualities of it really impressed me; up until then I had been a bit snobbish about rosé.  Later that year, at Phil's invitation I had attended a wine festival his firm was hosting and I had met Gregory Hecht, tried the next year's rose - not yet fined or officially bottled, but nonetheless delicious - and accepted his invitation to visit next time I was in Languedoc).

As it was, we never did connect: I found the administrative office, which is located in a tiny building on a street that is too narrow for cars.  There was nobody home, and I got an email from Gregory later, explaining that everyone spends a lot more time out in the fields at this time of year.  I wasn't disappointed though: Bouzigues is a beautiful little town.  

I stopped at a quayside restaurant/hotel called à la voile blanche for lunch.  The plat de jour at was 16 Euros, and I had six oysters, a glass of local rose, and Seiches à la Plancha (grilled calamari).  It came with a delicious shrimp-rosé fettucini and some sauteed courgettes that had a deep intense flavour... Man, was it fantastic, no doubt because the seafood was so fresh: the waters of the Basin de Thau just off Bouzigues are completely filled with wooden oyster beds, stretching off into the distance like an invading navy.

After lunch I continued south-west to the Cap d'Agde, which is a year-round resort town and home to several very popular beaches, including - as I found out upon arrival at the maison de tourisme - standard ones as well as several "naturist" (aka nude) beaches. 

It was a bit cool, so I didn't see anyone taking advantage of the opportunity to swim or sunbathe, but I did make sure to dip my own toes in the "Middle Sea" before sitting down to contemplate the waves, write in my notebook, and watch the townspeople playing petanque in the square opposite the beach.

I headed back to Montpellier by superhighway and returned the car that evening, and had some bread, cheese and fruit in my hotel room (I try to stick to a budget on these trips, and eat at cafes or restaurants one meal a day, fixing the others from groceries myself) and then went to bed early to prepare for the next day.

Montpellier day 4: April 29th: audition

I rose late on Tuesday morning, and went for a brisk walk around the centre of town to wake myself up; an espresso from the café down the street helped also.  I hid in my room for the rest of the day, nibbled some bread, cheese and water, and waited.  I received a call from Fleta early in the afternoon, wishing me toi toi (the traditional italian operatic equivalent of "break a leg").  That was encouraging, and I soon headed out to meet with the pianist.  We did 15 minutes of preparation and then I went back to my hotel room to try to relax, and returned at six o'clock for my audition.

The Salle Mollière is an intimate recital hall that seats perhaps 400 people.  The person auditioning me was the director, René Koering, who also is the director f the Festival de Radio France et Montpellier Languedoc-Roussillon.  As with the two other singers he was hearing that day, he didn't offer me the opportunity to present a piece of my choice, but we launched directly into his single choice: Valentin's aria, with its four high Gs.  Fortunately that one, despite being the most difficult, is feeling good in my voice, and with Fleta's recent help I sang them more confidently and bravely than ever.  We spoke briefly afterwards, and Monsieur Koering asked a single question, to confirm that I was now living in Brussels.  All in all it was a good experience, a nice town and a beautiful hall to sing in.

I celebrated my last night in Montpellier by having dinner at a place called the Bistrot Gourmand located in a little triangle called the Place de la Chapelle Neuve, which had a kind of seedily opulent bohemian feel.  Many people chose to dine outside on the little square, but being slightly chilled, I decided to eat inside for the first time during my trip.  The whole operation was being run pretty much by a single extremely efficient server; while the proprietess did help a bit early on some friends of hers showed up and she sat down to have dinner and drinks with them, not budging much for the next hour.

The food was really outstanding, a carpaccio of salmon in olive oil, lime, coriander leaves, sun dried tomatoes and green onions, followed by five huge still-translucent scallops seared in a pepper / paprika / chopped chive coating, swimming in a buttery white wine deglaze.  This area is home to the best shellfish in France, and these were fantastic.  In the centre of the plate was a little pyramid of julienned courgettes, carrots, and chopped roasted red pepper.  The wine was (you guessed it) a rosé, Chateau de Valcyre Domaine Benezech 2006, and not expensive since I only bought a single glass.  This rose had an initial impression of a little sharpness, but on then it blooms quickly into intense, deep fruit flavours... amazing!

I walked slowly back to my hotel and turned in for the night. 

Montpellier day 5: April 30th, Duncan's birthday

I checked out mid-morning, but left my bags at the desk and went shopping for the boys.  On my way back from dinner the night before I had spotted an old-style toy store, and wanted to look there for some presents for Duncan, and some for Malcolm too, as his birthday is two weeks later than Duncan's.

The toy store, Pomme de Reinette, is a refuge for the kinds of toys you may remember from childhood, but don't see anymore in the big chain stores:  little puppet theatres and maquettes, paper commedia-del-arte masks, little music-box mechanisms, magic tricks, juggling balls and clubs, card games, doll houses, and so on.  Not a battery-powered beepy box with blinking LEDs was to be found, which suits me just fine!  I loaded up on little gifts for both boys, and headed to the chemiserie to buy a summery cotton blouse for Maggie.  After a stop at the wine store for a couple of inexpensive local bottles to take home, I picked up my bags and ran to the train.

I know it sounds very exciting and romantic to read about how beautiful and ideal Montpellier is (see this Globe and Mail travel article) and I did enjoy many things there, but after the first day or two I started to feel quite lonely exploring it - and dining out - by myself, and was eager to see my family again.  I realize now that traveling to cities where you don't know anyone, and have to spend much of your time waiting around to sing can be difficult; you really start to miss your loved ones.  Still, it's the only way to do it!

I didn't get in until after the boys were asleep, so Duncan received his presents the next morning: I think I'll save the birthday details for my next post...

Montpellier part one

It's been a busy couple of weeks. My sister Emily was visiting, Maggie was ill with a cold/flu, and we now have David and Greta from Vancouver staying with us at the moment. Needless to say blogging has not been a priority, although the longer I wait the bigger the task gets.

I was also away last week, and returned late last Wednesday evening from a trip to the south of France for an audition, and a visit and lesson with Pierre Fleta and his wife Claude, who live in the town of Millau, in the Cévennes mountains north of Montpellier.


Montpellier adventures: day 1: April 26th

I arrived by TGV train from Brussels in the late afternoon, and checked into my little hotel just a few steps from the station, and perhaps 100 metres from the opera. The weather was gorgeous: low twenties, quite dry, quite hot in the sunlight; a definite change from Brussels, where it was been cool and damp recently. The streets here are lined with palm trees and there is a definite mediterranean feel to the city.


The square of the Place Comédie is closed to cars, and is cross-crossed by trams and has extensive parking underneath it, a great idea. It's surrounded by many historic buildings, and a statue and fountain of the three graces, and it was a beautiful spot to sit in the warm southern sun and drink a glass of chilled rosé wine while watching the crowds wander around; the drink comes with a little dish of chips and some ripe olives and peppers to whet your appetite.

For a city of its size, Montpellier is lucky musically in that there are two excellent spaces for opera: the first is the Opera-Comédie, built in 1888, which accomodates 1500, and also has a 400-seat concert hall, called the Salle Molière. The second excellent venue is the Opera Berlioz (located in a complex known as the "Corum"), built in 1990, with an acoustically isolated and precisely tuned hall that seats 2000, and two smaller halls each seating less than 500.

I had an interesting time at the front desk of the Corum the day I arrived, chatting with receptionist. I have made it a habit - given the time and opportunity of course - to "case out" the places I'll be singing auditions in. I usually walk from where I'm staying to the opera house, find the artist's entrance, make and early contact with the concierge, find out if the audition is in the theatre or in a rehearsal studio, etc. I don't like any surprises, and I don't want to be figuring out logistical questions at the last minute. There are always times when I don't have the luxury of doing reconnaisance ahead of time, but when I have it, I use it.

Anyway, in talking to the receptionist I realized she wasn't a native french speaker, and she noticed the same of me; imagine my surprise to find out that she was Canadian, and from Acton, about an hour from Toronto! She said the phrase that she and I have both heard over and over again, "but you don't have a Canadian accent!" - which to the French and Belgians actually means a Quebecois accent - and we both had a good laugh. She and her husband moved to Montpellier eight or nine years ago, and they are really enjoying the climate and culture there while they raise their two daughters (ages 10 and 6).

I left the Corum and spent quite a bit of time that first evening exploring the city, wandering around its little streets and finding many bistros and restaurants tucked away out of sight in odd corners of the town. There are a great many young people here, and the tables are crowded everywhere much later than I would have expected. I was in the mood for something simple and inexpensive, and found it at the Café Molière just behind the opera house. A salade Niçoise big enough for two, with corn, tomatoes, tuna, anchovies, olives, red cabbage, carrots and cucumber, and a little bread for 8 euro 50, and a 1/2 litre of rosé for 5 euro. Delicous!

day 2: April 27th: lesson and visit in Millau
I rented a little fiat car, and picked up a nice bottle of red wine from the region. I also had a little box of Neuhaus chocolate from Brussels that I'm bringing, a souvenir of Belgium, and some photographs of Bruce's and my visit in the summer of 2005.

The drive up through the Cevennes was really striking... everywhere there are these villages and towns nestled in the rugged mountainous landscape, perched on the edges of cliffs, guarding high plateaus and mountain passes. There are many historical sites as indicated by roadside signs, including lots of old abbeys and forts, even some of the Knights Templar; I did stop in at a couple of places, including Roquefort, where that delicious blue cheese is made, but it was more to plan ahead for next time I visit, since I didn't have time for tasting on this trip, and carried straight on to Millau.

I arrived mid-afternoon and after a quick stop at the Maison de Tourisme for a map, found the right villa. Unfortunately Madame Fleta was indisposed; she is physicially weaked since her illness of several years ago, and was not feeling well enough to be up and about, but was still in fighting form mentally and full of spirit, so we visited together for half an hour before Pierre summoned me into the studio and we set to work on my audition arias. He made sure to leave the door open for Madame to listen, saying that it would be a tonic for her: educated at the Sorbonne, she has a good ear, a polished sense of taste, and a great interest in opera, having worked as a singing agent for many years, and having supported her husband in his artistic career for many more.

I've got to say it was magical again to work with Monsieur Fleta, who was such a great mentor and role model for Bruce, my own teacher. As a student of something quirky and internal like singing, you often have to hear the advice of your teachers more than once; you also come to forget to do certain things because they have become automatic; then as your voice matures and changes, and the material you are singing changes, you have to return to your bag of tricks, your set of strategies and techniques, some of which you haven't had to examine for years, to approach things differently. Little tics, problems and bad habits can creep in without you noticing, so you need the assistance of an experienced set of ears, who can help you approach things from a different direction, and help you sing better. What a incredible resource this experienced and generous man is, after the long and varied career he has had, and how lucky am I to be able to learn from him.

He noted that had lost a little weight since 2005, which he thought was a good thing (he had mentioned discreetly but audibly to Bruce that I was peut-etre, un peu gros last time we met), so this made me smile. Both he and Madame were complimentary of the colour of my voice, and we were able to approach certain difficult passages with a more free voice and greater ease, such that I felt much more confident than before in my upcoming audition. His perspective was inspiring, and his performance suggestions very sensible and dramatic. I really do miss the regular working sessions with Bruce, but this is a good complement to his teaching.

We talked afterwards, the three of us, and I realize that Fleta hasn't taken on any students since arriving in Millau, and isn't looking for any, being happy to be retired. Nonetheless he and Madame told me that I should come back, and am welcome to stay there with them any time, and that we would work together on the voice. It was very generous, and I plan to return soon.

We talked for perhaps an hour together, had a strategy session about which houses I should write to next; he suggested a couple of directors whom I should contact in his name, and then I bid them bon soir with promises to pass their warmest regards on to Bruce, and left to drive back to Montpellier.