boldwood

So I'm going to represent my life topsy-turvily out of order and take a break from Budapest-posting to muse about a subsequent cultural experience. Which will annoy the chronology purists (I'm looking at you, Star Wars fans).

Last night, Robby and Emily (two people from my programme) and I went down to St. Michael's church to see Boldwood. I didn't know anything about the band, but Robby told me they were some sort of folk band and that it was a cheap concert. He really couldn't have chosen better: the show was perfect for people like us in so many ways.

Boldwood plays indie dance music--except it's 17th and 18th century English and Welsh dance music. Several years ago, accordionist Becky found a whole lot of manuscript music at a London library. Most of this music has no recorded author; nearly has not been played for more than two hundred years. Well, she did what any accordionist-and-traditional-music-enthusiast would do, and she got a band together.

Now, they play as a four-piece set (though only three of them were there last night), doing what they call "brushing the dust off" of these old, never-before-heard pieces. We heard an unrecognisable version of "Greensleeves" as well as a number of fiddle-driven dance tunes. One of the tunes was collected by Thomas Hardy. Others probably had specific dances to accompany them once, though these have long been lost. Most of the manuscript tunes only existed as a couple of lines--Boldwood arranged every piece in its repertoire. Well, almost every piece: on one or two occasions, they would just start at the same time and finish at the same time, trusting themselves and their instruments to figure out the middle, which is therefore necessarily different every time.

All three members of the band were fantastic and interesting and funny, though Becky the accordionist was an absolute star. She introduced almost every piece with a depth of knowledge regarding classical and folk music that was not simple research: it was honest love for music itself and her place within it. All of them had that attitude--while playing, they smiled at each other as if they shared some secret joke, and it was clear to everyone that they were three people who would rather be where they were than anywhere else in the world. It was captivating.

And now I'm listening to their CD, which is called "Feet, Don't Fail me Now", which is, improbably, on Zune. Brilliant.

budapest: an introduction

Whew! It's been a long week and a half. Last Tuesday, Rowena (whom, if you've been paying attention, you'll recall my having mentioned in the past) and I caught the 7AM bus to the airport. EasyJet tickets in hand and a little nervous, we got on our big orange plane, Hungary-bound. An hour and a half later, we found ourselves blinking in the unexpected sun, surrounded by words we had no hope of reading and a pervasive sense of vacation.

What made us choose Budapest? That's a good question, actually. Some esoteric algorithm of EasyJet-flight, never-been-there-before, and really-cheap-hostel informed our decision, certainly. Regardless, three months ago we were sitting on Rowena's couch saying, "wouldn't it be cool if we went to Budapest?"--and a week ago, we were there. We were right. It was cool.

Cool, of course, doesn't begin to describe it. Budapest is kind of like two miniature cities: to the west of the Danube is Buda, and to the right is Pest. The photo to the left is of Buda, from Pest which is larger. Our fabulous hostel (more on that later!) was in Pest.

The city itself is an intriguing blend of old-world Central Europe, memories of Soviet involvement, and a shiny new Budapest of industry and tourism. Oh, and a lot of really incredible buildings. Rowena and I hadn't been there ten minutes before we fell in love

with the place, and we just kept getting more impressed. Budapest is known for a number of things: perhaps the most famous are its medicinal thermal spas, whose use dates from Roman colonisation. There are a few such complexes in the city. We chose Széchenyi, the largest spa in the city with something like fifteen pools--indoor and outdoor--as well as steam rooms, jacuzzis, and lots of other exciting spa-stuff. 


We filled ourselves with a week of buildings and sun and Magyar culture, and now it's proving difficult to be back. I'll write more on Budapest, of course: I have far too much to say to fit into one measly little entry. In the meantime, these and about two hundred other photos are up on my facebook. 


Szia! (that's an informal Hungarian colloquialism for both "hello" and "good-bye"--a bit like the Hawaiian "aloha")