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Aberdeen Music Centre

Aberdeen Music Centre Christmas Concert

Music Hall, Saturday 12th December 2015

The perfect pathway to Christmas: throw yourself note by joyous note in to the festive spirit at Aberdeen Music Centre’s annual Christmas Concert.

The evening performance included the Centre’s senior students, who delivered a night of musical magic. The Piping Group galloped to an uplifting medley with Highland heart, and much foot tapping from the audience. Next, the Youth Wind Band gave a glorious rendition of “A Cowboy Christmas” followed by “A Fireside Christmas.”

The tangoed tempo slowed down as the Training Orchestra performed a raw rendition of the March from Carmen. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer then playfully trotted around the hall with cheeky curiosity, followed by Tchaikovsky’s “Waltz of the Flowers,” a melody that massages the heart with its timeless beauty.

Aberdeen City Youth String Ensemble created poetic bliss in their rendition of Handel and Mozart, a meeting of music and inner meaning that defied expression and lifted the heart.

A merry Jingle Bell Gallop from the Intermediate Wind Band ignited the Christmas spark in our minds, followed by “Once in Royal David’s City,” which lit the meaning of the season in our hearts. Finally, “The Name’s Claus … Santa Claus” combined humour with Bond-driven drama, and painted smiles across the auditorium as everyone moved in time.

Coro Piccolo, a choir of considerable young talent, bewitched the audience with their silken songs, notes woven from a well of honey, sweet nectar to the ears. I particularly enjoyed “One Candle Lights the Way,” a vision of candle-lit infinity, a heaven of song in flames, warmth to wash away all ills.

The evening concluded on a musical high, a nirvana of sound. Excerpts from Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake filled the hall with sensory storm, a gate opening to the voice of a hundred hearts. My favourite composer combined with the raw energy of the Aberdeen City Youth Orchestra: an early Christmas present that eluded expression, beauty in sound, the voice of Christmases past and festive forever. I could see them around me, ballerinas in ghostly white; I closed my eyes and opened them on a world of winter snow, where precious dreams are birthed and come true.

 

Street of Light: A Festive Fantasy

Edinburgh sparkles to life at Christmas with character and charm, its markets a sea of seduction, its fairgrounds an unforgettable fairytale, its streets a feast of shopping delight.

But nothing compares to the Virgin Money Street of Light. A Royal Mile house of fun, the fifteen minute display is a ticket to rhythmic rapture, the ultimate in sensory indulgence, chocolate to the ears, gateau for the mind.

Music from the Edinburgh Festival Chorus, the Edinburgh Royal Choral Union, the Edinburgh Gay Men’s Chorus and the Edinburgh Police Choir synchronised with a show of light; red, blue and dazzling whites dancing together, a wanton waltz of pure delight.

Bold blue and radiant red punctuated the night with their voice; then a gentle scarlet blanket cradled us from above, a soft sky of crimson stars. Colour collided with song to create Christmas soul.

A perfect way to begin Christmas, a magical prelude to this most special time of year. I will be back next year for more!

 

Terror Tales of Torry

A review of “Terror Tales of Torry,” a guided walking tour by Hidden Aberdeen

Terror Tales of Torry transported the audience to a mysterious world of ghosts and sleeping shadows, an alliterative rollercoaster ride to the historic heart of Aberdeen.

From the ghostly bride on Tullos Hill to a brutal murder in 1945, the tour astounded the audience with its detail and depth. Actors joined us en route, ghosts of times gone by come back to tell their gruesome story, from a shipwrecked captain to a slain soldier.

Tour guide Dr Brown combined her kingly knowledge of the area with sublime storytelling skills: it was a treat to behold Aberdeen’s most entertaining historian in action.

The stories were at times punctuated by eerie percussion from Haworth Hodgkinson, a ghostly atmosphere ringing in the air. His music added an overtone of otherworldliness.

The actor blazed as a shipwrecked captain, the glory of seas unconquered in his voice. As a soldier, battles lost wept in his words.

During the tour, in addition to learning of its fascinating history, I appreciated for the first time the beauty of Torry: its community spirit, brave citizens, its passions … its ghosts. I will never look at Torry in the same light again. It is indeed a special part of Aberdeen.

To sum up: the tour was informative, well-researched, hugely entertaining and a unique tribute to the wonders of Torry. I thoroughly recommend Aberdeen’s Hidden Aberdeen tours. Find out more here: www.hiddenaberdeen.co.uk

A Celebration of the Creative Arts

The Aberdeen International Youth Festival: International Variety Gala (HMT, August 1 2015) delivered a sensory treat of delectable dimensions, a mental overload of molten music and dance, a new world of musical mountains and artistic avenues of bliss.

A journey of unparalleled diversity: from the musical fireworks of the Blackburn with Darwen Big Band to the haunting beauty of The Seal Lullaby (NYCoS Edinburgh Area Choir), the evening erupted with melodic lava that entranced the audience.

Julianne Ramsey transported me to an enchanted forest – where dreams can come true – with her faultless solo from the ballet Le Corsaire, poetry in every step.

The magical spell strengthened as the Ulysses Dance Company swept us in to a colourful and bewitching Midsummer Night’s Dream.

The Kiryat Ono Youth Concert Band gave a moving rendition of the theme from Schindler’s List, with the audience held in thrall by raw emotion.

The Western Arts University Ambassadors (from USA) performed the vibrant “Teaser,” leaving the audience desperate for more. Then Aeon Duo (from Finland and Mexico) unleashed the pure magic of music in a delicious medley of stunning sound.

Aeon Duo teamed with the Romanychev Brothers (from Russia) for an energetic and powerful version of La Bamba, which filled the theatre with the fervour of fun. The Romanychev Brothers then captivated the  audience with an electric Come on, Simeon!

The Kresala Basque Dance Company treated us to a vibrant traditional Basque dance, followed by Coastline who dazzled the audience with a powerful collection of folk and classical pieces.

It did not seem possible for the talent and raw beauty of Act 1 to be surpassed, but Act 2 began on a mesmerising note: a tear-wrenching rendition of Auld Lang Syne by Rory McIver with NYCoS Edinburgh Area Choir, poetry in every note.

This was followed by more beautiful Scottish music from Feis Rois National Ceilidh Trail, a teasing taste of the creative soul of Scotland.

Our senses were then accosted by the taste of a Norwegian nirvana as Stord Ungdomskor performed traditional music that filled the theatre with soulful joy.

Our minds were soothed and our hearts squeezed by a stunning rendition of Sonata no 3 in B major by Nicholas Harris.

Dramatic dance exploded before us: Fusion Youth Dance Company’s Hidden Corner, an energetic piece of cutting edge contemporary dance.

Dance was then taken to a new and exciting level by Edge ‘n Pointe (from Hong Kong), followed by a powerful musical medley from the superlative Toronto All Star Steel Orchestra.

The evening ended on a delicious high as all performers took to the stage, a talented army of youth: the artists of the future. Our minds were left ablaze with the wonder of dance and music, and our hearts afire with joyful appreciation. It was a magnificent evening from beginning to end, one not to be forgotten.

Sister Streets

by Rachel H Grant

The day dawned clear.

It was a new day, cloudy with doubt …

 

Nervously Audrey checked her watch, 7am on the dot, perfectly on time. It was a day like no other. This was it, the start of her new life. Promotion at work, the Office Manager! At 23, she felt, with a secret smile, that she was doing rather well.

Baker Street. Every morning she traversed its ancient cobbled body, shivering like a moving snake in the early morning shadow. This was her sacred me time, content in contemplation, on this short walk to work. A time to forget…

… To forget the past.

…to remember the future. In another time, a secret place just a few millimetres away, Audrey skipped in time to the erratic beat of her ipod. This was it. The start of her new life. Unemployment retreated, head down, to the past, as the future peeped out from behind the clouds of yesterday. A new job as Office Administrator, reporting to the wonderfully  glamorous Office Manager, she remembered her well from the interview. A brilliant battle to impress beckoned … It was time. 7am. A brand new day.

 

…to run and embrace the future. Audrey walked faster. Her vision blurred. The grey cobbles shifted beneath her feet. The day grew darker as the sun disappeared. Someone was skipping behind her. Slowly she turned round, a dream-like feeling infusing her head with hidden foreboding. A confused face stared in to her own, eyes a question that knew no answer.

She was looking at herself.

The woman in front of her could not be. Mirror eyes confronted her own, accusingly. An identical suit jacket tightly clutched the small frame. High heels nervously rocked on the cobbles.

“Hello.” The voice came from nowhere, then she realised it was her who had spoken. “Hello?”

Suddenly confusion evaporated in to the clouds of tomorrow. This felt right. Of course, she was facing her twin soul, her alter ego. Meant to be … meant to meet, synchronicity in perfect symmetry.

 

The girl was speaking. “Audrey,” she mouthed reluctantly, as growing understanding sighed in her eyes.  “Audrey … is it you?”

Impossibly, feelings of familiarity were strangling her senses. She could have known this stranger all her life. This was her friend, the imaginary friend of her childhood fantasies, the best friend she had never had. Better than a sister, in those eyes she beheld all the understanding, all the self-acceptance she would ever need. Her bridesmaid in waiting, her soul sister, the most loyal of friends … her own shadow.

The girl slowly answered, her eyes floating with the clouds, her smile from the sun. “I am Audrey.” The answer, simple, contained an eternity of explanation.

“I am Audrey too.”

They regarded each other in silent complicity.

Are you starting a new job today too?” She had understood: this was no mere look-a-like, this was her literal double, this was all she ever could be, all she ever wanted to be … and all she feared.

“Yes – a promotion to Office Manager.”

“Oh!” Disappointment darkened her features. “I’m starting a role that’s not much more than an office junior…”

“Then one day you will be an Office Manager too.”

They stared in to each other’s eyes, an undercurrent of understanding uniting them, pulling them under the surface to a whole new subsea world, a place where the unlikely, the impossible … it could all be.

“What, what company?” The words felt like a challenge to this new world. And it did not disappoint…

 

It was decided. Fate fingered their timid indecision and tossed it ruthlessly aside. They would walk to the office – their office – together.

Clouds gathered above as the day grew darker. The promise of rain touched them, an oath to dissolving their hidden selves, to utterly knowing oneself. In each other, they could find themselves, and they would…

But not today. It was time to work…

… crossing the threshold of her new office. A time to play, a time to cry … a time to clone your career. Audrey hoped she would meet the Office Manager who had interviewed her, who had ignited a fiery admiration, this was a woman she could aspire to be, as she walked next to the woman she already was.

Astonished faces gazed at the twins facing them. “I am Audrey, the new office junior,” she mumbled. “This is Audrey,” her new friend explained, at the same time, speaking over each other, too quick to slow down. “The new office junior, who I will be delighted to induct in my new role…”

Words froze on their lips, as a confident woman with died auburn hair strolled slowly down the middle  of the office. She was frowning, intense with anger. “Who are you both and what are you doing here?”

“I work here!” Audrey squeaked next to her. “And today I’ve become the Office Manager…”

“You are no Office Manager!” shouted the woman. Her eyes were their own, her features what theirs could be with a layer of lipstick and mascara. “I am Audrey, the PA, and I know everything about this office, all the new staff there ever were, and I can tell you, you’re not on the list. Who put you up to this? Freak out Audrey day, send two look-a-likes to her office to stun her. Was it my ex George? And how did he find you?”

Anger arced from her eyes, and blinded them.

 

It was time to leave. In her first day as Office Manager she must take control. “We are going,” she declared, taking Audrey’s hand and rapidly retreating towards the door. “This is just a mistake…”

“How dare you come here to trick me!” Audrey of the heavy make-up screamed.

But the door was behind them, a world of sanity in the street beyond.

She hoped. They were both in the wrong world, an alternate reality where they did not exist, where this woman with her dynamite glamour had taken their place. There could only really be one Audrey … and it was not them.

“What do we do now?” she asked gently, seeing the pain in her sister’s eyes. “We wait,” was her answer. “Somehow this will resolve itself…”

“But how…?” As if in answer, the light grew brighter. The sun was out, suddenly and completely. “Audrey …” But her friend was no longer there.

She looked back at the office. A sign proclaiming “A New Job!” hung in the window. That had not been there before. Slowly she walked to the glass door and looked in. There was no sign of Barbie Doll Audrey. A young man near the door noticed her and waved her in. Cautiously she crossed the threshold. “Audrey! Welcome to your new job!”

Her normal world was back. She smiled. “I didn’t think anyone would go to all this effort for an office junior…”

The man laughed, his green eyes grinning. “That’s a good one, coming from our new Office Manager! Welcome to the world of promotion, Audrey.”

She stopped smiling.

 

THE OFFICE CHANGED BEFORE HER EYES. PEOPLE HAD MOVED, THEY WERE NOT WHERE THEY HAD BEEN TWO MINUTES AGO. AND THEN NORMAN SPOKE. “OUR NEW OFFICE JUNIOR! I DIDN’T SEE YOU COME IN…”

AUDREY WAS TOO ANGRY TO LAUGH, THEN WITH CUTTING CLARITY SHE REALISED HE WAS NOT JOKING.

A WOMAN WAS APPROACHING HER. “I AM MELANIE, THE PA TO THE DIRECTOR HERE.”

A SCREAM STARTED DEEP INSIDE, DRUMS IN HER HEAD, AND THEN HER MOUTH OPENED AND SHE KNEW SHE COULD NOT STOP.

PERHAPS IF SHE CLOSED HER EYES … THE SCREAM WOULD END.

Audrey entered her office. Norman jumped up. “Our PA! I’ve been waiting for you, there’s an urgent matter to …”

“PA?” repeated Audrey.

And then she began to smile. The humour in her head died as it touched her lips.

But she kept smiling anyway.

 

The next day dawned cloudy, but today no doubts remained. She had a new life, and she would embrace it with all her soul … she would do her sister proud.

Audrey awoke the morning after to a stunning sunset, reds and oranges throwing a child’s paint across the sky, singing with glee. She smiled. Life could only get better.

SHE AWOKE IN HER UGLY APARTMENT – WHERE WERE ALL HER HOME IMPROVEMENTS? THEN SHE REMEMBERED. SHE LOOKED AT THE SUN SHINING THROUGH THE CURTAINS, AND SCREAMED.

It was a new day, a new street … and two twin souls in separate universes were destined to meet. Life continued on its crazy course, humour in its curving contours, fate in its firm hands. The sun shone on a reality so frail you could almost perceive the hidden worlds at its edges … but time ticked on, solidly, as if nothing were wrong.  They say everyone has a double, but that you should never meet. Destiny had a hundred days to play with … and she had chosen this one.

Gnomes

By Rachel H Grant

Gnomes were magical, they brought good luck. Or so I thought whimsically as I placed my two new trophies in the garden. One on the rockery, and one by the back door.

The next morning I was startled to find the gnome by the back door gone – now in the middle of the lawn. The rockery gnome had moved, too. He was higher up, standing valiantly astride a stone, his impish eyes surveying the garden with glee. Some prankster had been at work. I placed the gnomes back in their rightful places.

The morning after I awoke stiff and sore, to find myself lying on the lawn. In alarm, I looked up. There at the kitchen window, watching me with a sick smirk on his face, was a human-sized gnome. In panic I tried to rise, but could not. I looked down at my small clay body in its green tunic, and then back to the grinning gnome. He winked.

New Earth

By Rachel H Grant

A new Planet Earth. This was it. They had found it. Sapphire seas hissed under a powerful sun, emerald land purring in between, the taste of untainted nature.

Lawrence smirked. This trip had been a good choice. His career as a travel writer had hit a lull, but then this assignment had seized him with the lure of fame. A space voyage to find a new inhabitable planet, one that would act as an outpost for Planet Earth, a new dawn of twinned planets and sister societies. His piece was going to make him very rich.

Captain Jenny was preparing to land. Her shining brown locks and deep grey eyes glinted in the soft light of the control panel. “There are buildings below!” she cried excitedly. “This planet is inhabited! We need to go very carefully on this one. Let me leave the spaceship on my own first, to show we come in peace.”

Jenny discovered a welcome party on disembarking. An elderly man with long white hair, dressed in flowing robes of gold, stood next to a young woman with silver hair and amber eyes.

The man was holding a strange, humming metallic device. “We know you come in peace.” He spoke slowly. “We’ve been watching you approach. Our priests confirmed your peaceful intent. Please ignore this gadget I am holding. It is an intergalactic translator. It is why you understand what I say. I am Toski, leader of this planet, and this is my daughter, Princess Zeta.”

“We come from Planet Earth,” intoned Jenny slowly, slightly mesmerised by the old man’s still stare.

“Show me.”

Zeta brought forward a globe of light. Jenny peered in to it. It was a map of the stars. This she could do, she knew this galaxy like her own address book. She used a lever to move around, then stopped, puzzled. Earth was not where it should be.

“No, it can’t be,” Toski muttered, shaking. “You can not be from that planet, the missing planet? Planet Eternal Light, destroyed two thousand years ago. That is why our people came here. We are the survivors, and we built a new civilisation.  But you think you are from there? It must be space crunch. That is what we call it when space travel shifts you between dimensions, or in to other realities. You can’t go back now. You will find nothing there. Or worse … some very alien civilisation on what you think of as your planet.”

Jenny was stupefied. When she briefed her team, they voted to abort their mission and return home directly.

But on their return, there was no Earth. They circled Mars, and Venus, but Earth did not reappear.

“It’s true,” whispered Jenny sadly. “We are in another reality. Earth is no more.”

Lawrence was fizzing with fury. There would be no one to sell his story to now.

“We must return,” declared Jenny decisively. “To New Earth. I’m sure Toski will let us live with them.”

Lawrence was almost dancing with rage. His career was assuredly over now. “I want to try again,” he whined. “I want to circle space until Earth, our Earth, returns. Eventually we must cross this space crunch thing to our own reality? That’s what I want to do.” And then publish the story of a lifetime, he thought with satisfaction.

“It’s your choice,” said Jenny simply, “although I would recommend you stick with us. You know how to drive the pod, yes? I will program some flights for you, one around the solar system, returning to Earth. You can put that one on repeat. The other flight will be to New Earth. That is your rescue flight. The space pod will have enough fuel for another month.”

And so Lawrence circled the solar system, day in and day out. Earth did not reappear. At one point Venus looked verdant, like an Earth, however on the next circle of the solar system, when he planned to land there, it had reverted to its usual self.

Eventually, furiously, he knew he had to give in. Earth was gone.

The flight to New Earth was non-eventful. Jenny had programmed the pod to land at exactly the same place as before. They would be there, he mused with what was finally relief, to welcome him to the new planet. Perhaps his career wasn’t over, after all. He could start his own media outfit, if one did not already exist. His own newspaper. Did they have television? He could be at the forefront, a communications pioneer.

He was landing. But something was wrong. There were no buildings.

There was nothing but luscious green grass, towering trees, a shimmering stream, dancing in the soft sunlight.

He walked and walked. Nothing. Nature had consumed this planet. There were no people.

Slowly he sat down. The space pod was running short of fuel. He could not leave.

Lawrence would have to make it on his own. So much for a glorious media career here.

Overhead a bird soared, a lone companion in the silence. He would wait. One day, he knew, a spaceship would come. From Old Earth, from another New Earth. Somewhere out there was intelligent life. They would find him.

He hoped.

In the distance a bird cawed, and then all was quiet once more. Lawrence slowly lay down and tried to sleep. When he woke up, perhaps this would all be a dream, and another dimension would claim him.

The sound of his snoring merged with the song of the stream.  The trees danced in the wind, as the sun slid down a pink and violet sky. The planet slept in silence, as it had done for a thousand years.

Lawrence turned over restlessly, and then was still. Night had claimed the land.

Rain Fairy

Fairy Azura danced in the rain, pirouetting through the garden puddle with glee abandon. It was such fun being a fairy. Her job was just that: to play! An angel of the rain, the healing power of water lit up her heart.

Azura spent her days protecting the waters of the earth, from the majestic oceans themselves to this, a simple garden puddle. Water held within it the gateway to a fourth dimensional paradise, an ocean world, the waters broken up by small islands of flowers, all colours of the rainbow lighting up the sea. This was her real home, and where she returned at night to rest.

However this small puddle was fun. Because water was a master healer, even this tiny pocket of water held a magic vibration.

Slowly she finished her dance. It was time to fly away to the next pool of water requiring help. But she could not, her wings would not work. Desperately she tried to lift them up, but they were heavy and would not move. This water she was in must be cursed, it had placed some vicious chains around her.

Instinctively, she knew what it was. Weedkiller had been sprayed on the paving stones beneath the puddle. She could feel the chemical trying to erode her lungs, and pulling down her wings.

Weedkiller was toxic to all nature fairies, damping down their light. Azura tried again to lift her wings, but could not. So she closed her eyes, and began a sacred chant. With every word she murmured, she could feel the weedkiller changing, its chemistry rearranging itself so that the poison was neutralised. Her wings began to flap with a new life. She flew away, and the whole fairy kingdom became protected, as one, from weedkiller.

Azura flew high in the sky, and then circled above the sea. It was time to play again, this time with the dolphins.

Across the world, fairies began to fly with joy, enjoying a new freedom, in a world where pollutants could no longer harm them.

Song of the Seals

Inspiration that sets fire to your heart and bakes fresh words in your brain, creating new and heated writing you didn’t believe you had in you … we all dream of that. 

Today I found it. At a thinly peopled beach enjoying the fresh spray of the North Sea, where human concerns were belittled and blew away in an ancient wind. And the sound of a dozen or more seals, singing to each other, a moaning lament of all time, what tears sound like – nothing more, nothing less, and a prayer for the future.

Their haunting song is still in my heart. If I can write with even a tiny ounce of their inner fervour, then I know I can make something. Just a little something, that contains a microcosmic crumb of beauty, and the poetry of their pain. And so I will write, to a remembered song in my heart.