Jez thought I might find this interesting. I thought you might find this interesting.
I miss Jez. Just over a week til he comes to Prague again, and we will live for a fortnight in a little apartment near the castle! I’ve not had a decent cuddle in ages…
Another one of those lonnnnnng posts I’m afraid. Kettle on, nip to the loo, turn off your straighteners, you know what to do. This week I’ve done headings for you, so please thank me for making my blog look like a tabloid newspaper!
Shock revelation: How Despina is making ends meet and funding her shopping habit
Friday night saw me heading up to the castle for Carmina Burana, looking, as usual, fabulous! Knee-length black/white polka-dot dress with little turquoise cardigan over the top, heels, legs, classy and unusual jewellery, and a chignon so perfect I could feel Audrey’s smile of approval. (Wish I had a photo for you!) On the bus I was conscious that people were looking at me, and I figured it was either because I looked so smart when everyone else was coming back from work, or because I looked so English they were planning to rob me. However, when I got on the tube, these stares became really intense, so I buttoned my cardi up to my chin and looked steadfastly at the floor, feeling so uncomfortable. Only when I was waiting for Kyne outside Malostranská station did I understand the significance of those looks I’d been getting… I am so stupid!
Apparently, I later found out, members of Prague’s branch of the world’s oldest profession can be rather high-class in appearance, and have a certain way of standing, with legs slightly apart and one foot pointed to the side (ie how you stand when you don’t want to fall over on a moving vehicle) and handbag tucked under the shoulder (ie how you stand when you don’t want to get robbed). I knew I was not wearing that much make-up, but I felt really dirty and outraged all the same!
I told you a while back that I live in a city in England where girls wear neon leggings to go out shopping, where cleavage is generally the order the day, and make-up is applied using a paint roller, and then I come all the way to Prague to get labelled a hooker! Well I suppose it stands to reason, given that my favourite going-out frock here is a similar design to the uniform worn by the women who (occasionally) take out my rubbish and change my bed. I told Kyne at least this way it would be easier to indulge his cleaning-lady fantasy. He said he’d told me not to tell anyone. I said he hadn’t told me in the first place. There was laughter and then much looking at the floor.
Ok, my weekend! Yes, I’m getting there!
Carmina Burana
It was stupendous. Due to the rain we moved into the Spanish Hall which looks like a pornographic hommage to Versailles. I have photos which will be uploaded at some stage, but suffice to say that it’s huge and there’s gold leaf and chandeliers everywhere. We sat on plush velvet chairs. I felt like Marie Antoinette. The interpretation was great, I’d like to have a go at writing a (non-wanky) review when I have the programme in front of me so that I can give due credit to the artists involved. But considering how hard I am to please and that this is my favourite piece of music in the whole wide world (apart from the bunny-tipping song) it was an amazing experience. All that noise! Ooooooooooh. Took some gorgeous photos of the sun setting over Prague, and the typical tourist shot of Despina clowning around like a Spice Girl in an empty guard’s box - sorry, everyone.
Dizzy Despina
Got back to the dump where there was a “miss you” party going on for my flatmate who was leaving, and, less officially, a birthday party for Kyne. We drank Tokaji and Moravian brut in the TV room and then realised we’d run out of cheese, and were wondering where we could get cheese and beer, when a little voice said ”Ooh, the 24-hour garage will still be open!” For some reason, everyone laughed. Kyne refused to let me sing happy birthday to him, even after I offered him a choice of styles from Kiri to Marylin, he said he didn’t want to be reminded of it, so eventually I chased him down the corridor and gave him no choice but to listen to a rendition in Despina-style, which I seem to remember being something like
“Happy birthday to youhappybirthday to you Happy birthday you old bastard but thank you for coming to the concert with me lovely birthday mwah mwah mwah happy birthday to you.”
La mome Piaf
My bestest friend had emailed on Friday to say she’s coming for the week beginning today - hooray! I spent Saturday making my flat nicer, filled the fridge with food, and tried to work out how to make coffee without the use of my flatmate’s kettle. Then went off to the cinema with Andrea to watch the new Edith Piaf biopic, in French (my second language) with Czech subtitles (Andrea’s third language). But we did ok. I enjoyed the film, although it was pretty much what I expected. Click here and here for reviews, photos etc. I loved the way the chronology flitted about, I liked the way Edith and other characters were not always supposed to be likeable, I thought Marion Cotillard brought tonnes of pathos to the performance, and the chemistry between Edith and Marcel Cerdan (Jean-Pierre Martin) was spot-on. I would say that some facts in the film were slightly at variance with what I’d read in the book written by her half-sister Simone, but this probably says more about Simone’s way with the truth than about Dahan’s film. I enjoyed the montage scenes that fitted into the 1930s / 40s era, and agree with the reviews up here that the scene where Edith hears of the plane crash is very powerful, as is the boxing sequence set to Mon Dieu.
Kafka
Spent a pleasant afternoon with Kyne and his friends who are over here, sitting in the beer garden outside the hotel eating, drinking, and ostensibly reading Kafka. Kafka is amazing! I love it, but I think Metamorphosis is the strangest thing I’ve ever read. Most of my favourite books from childhood and school combined a bizarre story with a strong allegory, and so I’ve been exploring the idea that Metamorphosis must have an allegorical base too, I need to read some good critiques about this.
“You’re as cold as yesterday’s mashed potatoes”
Ended up tucked around the back of Old Town Square in Ungelt jazz club, since the general feeling in our group was to avoid anything too modern - so out went my two preferences of modern trios - or anything deemed to be naff - ie “senior swing” or big band. I found myself watching a band I heard with Jez a fortnight ago, only without their redeeming feature, an amazing vibes player, and instead with a singer who was wearing an exact replica what I wore to work in Superdrug, and had all the charisma of a pan of mashed potatoes. Cold mashed potatoes with no butter. Still, if you don’t try, you don’t find out, and I think the others were enjoying it. It just really pisses me off when people stand there and expect you to listen to them, but give nothing of themselves in their performance. You wouldn’t be too happy if your date turned up in hiking gear with stubble and death-breath would you? I think this is the musical equivalent. This is one of Prague’s premier jazz-spots,and if she hated being here as much as she appeared to, I’m sure there are plenty of other singers out there who’d jump at the chance to perform here. Hello?
Depina Davis
By the way, slightly off-topic, I’ve decided that if I ever become a jazz performer, I will be probably be playing the trumpet rather than singing. I’ve never ever even blown into a trumpet, but I think one would suit my personality and my personal skills - ie being loud, using my mouth and lungs, and going a bit crazy now and again. Hey, I could do “Let the bright seraphim” as a one-woman show! Classy.
Sick
I’ve noticed that most things they cook over here involve the maximum of stodge. I don’t think I managed to de-breadcrumb my cheesy schnitzel adequately enough at tea-time, as in the evening I felt really bloated and sick, and left the club after only one set, to go back to Fawlty Towers and curl up in bed. I got lost on the way to the metro and taught some Czech tramps some English swear-words, then reminded myself that this was not an episode of Frasier, this was real. Managed to get the last bus back to the hotel, but again, whilst I was waiting on the platform, I was still getting the eye of “how much to play at cleaning ladies?”! Uhhhhhhhhh.
Girlie fun in Prague
Tonight at 10:05, my bestest friend will land at Prague airport! She’ll be here til Saturday, and we have public holidays here on Thursday and Friday, which means we can go off and do fun things together, I’m so excited! I want to go to Křižík’s Fountain and see some ballet dancing, to the cinema to see Shrek 3, and out of town to Kutna Hora. But apart from that, I’m easy.
Oh don’t you bloody start…
