|
A serious Spring clean is underway |
I have
now been living in Brugge long enough to attend an annual event for
the second time, so I must be becoming quite a seasoned observer! In spite of
Brexit and incipient old age, I hope to see many more such annual
re-visits to many events.
Saturday
2
nd July saw the return of Taptoe which is a celebration
of marching bands; I cannot think of another way to describe it. It
isn't a competition but there is a succession of brass bands which do
not simply play with great dexterity and musicality, [as in the UK] they also march while never missing a note,
weaving patterns and creating waves and ripples of movement,
astonishingly intricate often, and always aesthetically pleasing to
watch. The bandsmen wear uniforms, military in inspiration; indeed
the whole concept must come from a military background. It would be
interesting to discover the pedigree of the marching bands movement
but its foundation must surely be in the military.
|
Not any of the bands to which I have referred; this one
had the smartest, possibly slightly Ruritanian, uniform to add
to the gaiety of nations.
|
This
year there were fewer bands; only four, and one boasted a sort of
chorus line of girls, none of whom played instruments. They did
various routines often involving very large flag-waving or
baton-flourishing; they were dressed in bright, non-military style
costumes, mercifully body-covering, but even so, there was a whiff of
old-fashioned gender roles in that the female non-musicians seemed
to appear solely for decoration or distraction. It didn't quite work
for me; I prefer the traditional bands [chiefly male but not
entirely] in their decorative but militarily-based uniforms. All four
bands were very good indeed but the fourth one was outstanding, with
a fearsome Sergeant-Major-type leader who could no doubt, curdle milk
at forty paces. The drill-like precision of his troops was exemplary
and the standard of musicianship, high! But hearts were touched by
the first band which had a majority of adolescents and quite tiny
children among the marching musicians. They were incredibly accomplished which seemed even more miraculous given that several
players looked to be under ten years of age.
My
companion and I had decided against sitting in the open, in the
tiered gallery out on the Burg itself and chose instead to sit
upstairs in Tom Pouce, the only restaurant actually on the Burg, in seats
which afforded a marvellous view of the moving panorama below. There
we had a super meal with warmth and comfort to enrich the viewing
experience. And from that vantage point I noticed that there were three flags flying from the Stadhuis opposite; one for Belgium, one for Flanders and one for Brugge. The Belgians do love their flags!
|
Koor Vagantes Morborum led by
Bart Snauwaert |
And
today, the music continued; left at coffee time for the beautiful premises of BNP Paribas
Fortis on Vlamingstraat nearby. Paribas is my bank; I wrote last
year of its architectural beauty and I love the place, so that it was
an additional pleasure to go there this morning [Sunday] to listen to
the Koor Vagantes Morborum. The huge main hall was almost full when
we arrived for the Aperitief Concert at 11.00; entitled
Cesur, Viva
La Musica, it offered a wide and interesting range of songs, mainly twentieth century though with An die Musik by Franz Schubert
and Viva La Musica by Michael Praetorius 1571-1621. Bart Snauwaert
was conducting in the absence of the regular choirmaster, Korneel
Bernolet, who has kept the choir to an amazingly high standard. It was a real pleasure to attend. I later discovered that Vagantes Morborum celebrated its Golden Jubilee last
year after its origins in 1965 as a student choir which sang mainly
to the patients in Bruges hospitals.
There are two other developments of note, chez Clayton; one is that the entire building in which I live, is being re-painted outside. We have been corralled by enormous scaffolding [see picture above] for about two weeks now, with no end in sight. One day, however, we will emerge from the spiky chrysalis, dazzling in our new-found, all-white beauty! The second, more personal, is that I have bought a gorgeous painting by Sigrid Tanghe; it is haunting, mysterious, ethereal as it hangs near my computer desk. It is the last splash of expenditure, post-Brexit, for some considerable time as sterling cowers before the dollar, and, more relevantly for my everyday life, the euro. I grieve for the comparative poverty coming, even as I worship at the feet of the new goddess nearby!