NZSO Christmas Pops

Of all the gifts I'm blessed with, music is the one I'm most grateful for. Music is the blood that runs through our family. It's who and how we are. It's our identity. It's a passion we share and also one that divides us as we analyse and debate the ins and outs of what we're listening to, what we're watching and how to play it. It's led to a solid work ethic, a love of performing and many years of entertaining others.

Mr 10 is latest to be bitten by our musical bug. Our family are currently arguing (with him) about how many instruments he should be allowed to learn simultaneously. We've settled on 2-3 for now, on condition that piano with theory is number 1, followed by guitar and then maybe bass.

This week, I won tickets to the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra's final performance for 2018, Christmas Pops. It's always a treat to attend a NZSO performance, but pops orchestra programmes offer a great introduction to symphony orchestras by mixing up lighthearted classical arrangements of popular show tunes. It was obvious who would come to the concert with me, and I'm not sure who was more excited: Mr 10 anticipating his first orchestral experience, or me being able to share our family's love of music in yet another way. 

From the moment we took our seats, Mr 10 was fascinated. How many instruments could we see? (Too many to count!) Look at all those cellos and double basses! The orchestra took their seats and started tuning. "Wow, even that sounds amazing!" he declared. What instrument is making that sound? (It's an oboe ... oh, now listen to the clarinets!) He watched and listened and joined in the mass chorus numbers with open excitement. So did I!

The programme featured mostly Christmas music, including carols, songs, movie themes and classical works. Australian mezzo-soprano Jacqui Dark was the orchestra's special guest. Her introduction was a beautiful tear-inducing rendition of Climb Ev'ry Mountain from The Sound of Music, taking me back to my teenage years. She entertained and delighted with every number and even bravely attempted the New Zealand version of the Twelve Days of Christmas.

The biggest musical highlight for me was a suite of three pieces from Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker, my favourite ballet and the centrepiece of my Christmas playlist. Of course, Mr 10 loved the arrangement of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, even if he was a bit shy when singing along. (I wasn't - but he's still young enough to not be embarrassed by me doing things like that ... yet.)

The only lowlight of the evening was the late start time for what is essentially a family show. 7.30 pm in summer is fine for grown-ups, but a 9.30 pm finish for little people, even overexcited budding musicians trying their very best to drink in every moment, was all a bit much. He slept well last night!

How special that the NZSO could share the gift of music with a whole new generation. I'm sure many fans were made last night.

Te Vara Nui Village

A highlight of our holiday was an evening at Te Vara Nui Village. Te Vara Nui is a traditional island village that was built to honour Mama Vara, who is now in her 80s yet was there to greet us at the entrance. The village itself had flooded earlier in the week after some very heavy rain, meaning that we couldn't take the tour but the over water show would go ahead as planned.

This is the scene that greeted us on arrival.

Entrance to Te Vara Nui Village

The tables are arranged on either side of this scene, meaning that everyone has a pretty good viewing point for the show which takes place on and around the water in the middle. Dinner was first; a huge island style buffet featuring all the usual suspects as well as a range of island cuisine to sample.

An island style buffet awaits

Since we were enjoying an island holiday, it seemed right to indulge in a cocktail. My dessert cocktail was appropriately named Island Love and was full of all the good stuff: Kahlúa, Baileys, Frangelico, Crème de Cacao, brandy and cream. With a table overlooking the water, I was all set for the show.

Island Love dessert cocktail

Now for the entertainment. As a family of entertainers, we were a bit skeptical, worried we'd be subjected to a heavily contrived performance then quickly ushered out, all the while being assured that we'd had a 'cultural' experience. What followed was a thoroughly delightful evening of music and dance that we'd highly recommend other visitors go and see.

The show tells the story of Tonga-iti, a legendary warrior whose arrival in the Cook Islands caused quite a stir among the locals many moons ago. The performers delivered a high energy celebration of this historical event through music, dance, costumes and lights. They cleverly used the 360° stage and surrounding pool so that every seat was the best in the house.

Here are a few action shots from a mesmorising evening.

February snapshot

At the risk of sounding like a giant cliche ... time is going so fast and I can't believe February is all but over. We haven't had much of a summer this year but have still been really busy with summery events - and that's Wellington for you. We can't plan on good weather so just get on with it anyway. Here's a snapshot of a few things I've been up to this month.

February snapshot

I've started Zumba again! I was worried about starting from scratch after 5 (may 6) year break, but it turns out that my muscle memory has stored lots of the moves for me and it's just a case of linking them together in different combinations. There are a few moves I'm struggling to unlearn and relearn but most others also have arms and legs flying in random directions with huge grins plastered on their faces, so I'm in good company.

Guns N' Roses came to town for their Not In This Lifetime tour. The rain cleared just enough for us to make our way to a stadium filled with 31,500 other wet bogans. I know I predicted that the tour would be a tragic, train wreck of an event, but still bought tickets ... and I'm so glad I did. The concert was better than I could have imagined and a full-on Slash show, who I now respect far more as a musician than I thought possible. Appetite for Destruction survives another decade.

Despite the best of intentions for Round the Bays last weekend, I ended up too sick to get out of bed on Sunday, let alone walk 10km. So that event will go back on my list for next year.

We enjoyed our annual camping trip at Himatangi Beach with around 20 friends. It was fine enough to pitch our tent overnight for what is likely to be our only camping trip this summer.

I read the novel Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. And then I watched the movie of the same name. Wow. As always, the book is far more detailed and nuanced than the movie, which rushed through the suspense and made it far too easy for viewers to guess what was going on. But, I repeat: wow! No clues or spoilers from me, just a recommendation to read the book (essential) and then watch the movie (if you feel the need).

It's actually been quite a musical month. I took my dad to see The Hollies Highway of Hits concert on Friday night. Core members of the group have been touring almost continuously since forming in 1962, which is an impressive feat. I'd seen The Hollies when they toured in 2011 and this show was pretty much the same as that one, but this time I had Dad in tow to enjoy a stroll down musical memory lane.

I ordered a present for myself: The Hummingbird Bakery Cake Days recipe book. The original Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook is one of my favourites and now has a sister publication. I christened the book by making chocolate chip whoopie pies for Good Bitches Baking this weekend. I'm pleased to report that my first ever batch of whoopie pies passed the Weka household's quality controls with flying colours.

Chocolate chip whoopie pies

October snapshot

The year is speeding along. We've arrived at our final public holiday until the silly season. I don't know about you, but this single Monday off has been a long time coming for me. Everyone is so busy being busy lately. In fact, it's a great conversational starter. But what exactly is everybody doing?

Here's some of what I've been up to this month.

October snapshot

• I'm reading (and loving) The Hundred Foot Journey by Richard C Morais. It's delightful, funny and tempestuous all at once. I may skip the movie of the same name, though.
• The Coffee Supreme Brazil blend has kept me company this weekend. It goes well as a triple espresso with a teaspoon of vanilla Shott.
• These girls are getting themselves set for many kilometres of walking this summer. They're green for go.

These shoes were made for walking

• My blacklist of shops I'm boycotting until my Christmas watershed is officially lifted on 1 December is growing daily. Seriously, it's not Christmas in October!!
• I'm loving the second series of Grand Designs NZ. I was so worried that a massive dose of cultural cringe would overpower my enjoyment of the show, but it's been really well made and local architect Chris Moller is a great presenter.
• My musical renaissance artists this month are Elvis Costello and Van Morrison. Irish goodness all the way.
• Everyone I know loves curly fries except for one particular 3 year old boy with curly hair. Co-relation?

Curly fries are the best

September snapshot

So blogging hasn't been happening much for me lately. I exceed my daily word limit at work most days and don't have any left for reading or writing at night. I guess I don't have to blog; there are no kick backs or consequences if I do or don't, but blogging has been something I've done for nearly nine years now. Sometimes the words just aren't there, or the subject matter isn't anything worthy of a blog post. And nine years feels like a very long time to be playing this gig.

I'm going to try something different every now and then. It might tide me over while I experience blogger's block or lead me somewhere else entirely. Here's a snapshot of where I'm at right now. I'd love to hear what you're up to, too.

September snapshot

• I've walked up five flights of stairs several times a day this month for Steptember - for every day I've been in the office. The first three flights are fine. The fourth and fifth flights aren't getting any easier.
• I'm loving the beginning of spring, my favourite season, and can even forgive its tempestuous weather. I also can't wait for daylight saving to start tonight.
• I'm revisiting an artist I hate to love: the incorrigible Terence Trent D'Arby. It annoys me to no end that he is as talented as he tells everybody. 
• I don't mind emptying the bottom rack of the dishwasher (plates, cutlery and big stuff) but I HATE emptying the top rack. It's mostly filled with coffee mugs that don't stack neatly, none of which I use but Mr Weka manages to churn through with his endless cups of tea.
• I've made a lot of potato bread lately. It's great comfort food.
• This hummingbird cake recipe is great. It uses coconut instead of nuts and I've made it twice in the past fortnight, including for Good Bitches Baking tomorrow.
• I'm half-watching Deadpool (2016) as I write this. Parts of it are quite funny but I'm not concentrating enough to work out if there's a plot. There probably isn't, but there's Ryan Reynolds and that's enough for me.
• I've just polished off half a packet of soft Italian pistachio nougat for dessert. I'll be joyfully licking the bits that are still stuck in my teeth all night.
• I still don't trust blue toothpaste. Striped is fine. White is best.

AC/DC - Rock or Bust

AC/DC rocked Wellington last night. A sea of bogans flooded Westpac Stadium, dressed in black and decked out in flashing red plastic horns. The rain came down as the wind picked up, but there was no distracting this excitable crowd. We were relatively sheltered with seats in the stands at the back of the stadium but still endured our fair share of wild weather. Never mind; a bit of extreme wind and rain doesn't get Wellingtonians down.

The concert started 15 minutes late and got off to a roaring start. A dynamic video of song teasers and special effects hinted at what was planned for the night before the band blasted onto stage amid a storm of lightning and pyrotechnics. I haven't heard a concert so loud since ... well, probably since AC/DC last played in Wellington back in 2010. It was electric!

The stage and lighting setup was spectacular. Giant screens meant we could still get a good look at the stage from our seats at the back of the stadium. The lighting and special effects were really well coordinated and the set list was red hot.

And then the problems started. The opening number, Rock or Bust, blasted half of Wellington before ending with distorted feedback. After a lengthy pause, the show continued with Shoot to Thrill, then it all went quiet ... and stayed that way for a long time.

It was too easy; if #rockorbusted didn't already exist as a hashtag, then it wouldn't take long to establish itself. Seriously, a 40+ minute open ended pause is not what you'd want to impose on a hyped-up bogan audience. The crowd was generally patient, although there are reports of a few scuffles breaking out on the field. We took to social media to find out what was going on but no explanation was offered other than "technical difficulties". The crowd waited. Half an hour later, a brief announcement was made about trying to fix the problem, then another long pause. It was a full 45 minutes before the show resumed. A loud hum plagued the gaps in between songs for the rest of the concert and seemed to stamp out any of the usual banter you'd expect from front man and lead vocalist Brian Johnson. It meant that the audience were left wondering in between every song whether the show would continue or pause again, so much so that the usual cheering and shouting for encores were absent.

Aside from the technical difficulties, the concert was amazing. Such energy on stage from seasoned rockers coupled with outstanding visual effects made for a huge night of entertainment, even if it was sometimes hard to make out each song due to an over-loud lead guitar and vocals that couldn't quite be heard over the din.

Thankfully Angus Young has never grown up - and I hope he never does. He duck-walked and strutted his way across the whole stage, all the way out the front on a stage extension and ended by racing across a wall of Marshall stacks without ever dropping a note, even when he was playing with one hand behind his back or using just his school tie as a pick. Chris Slade is a solid replacement for embattled drummer Phil Rudd. The judge was right; the band is doing just fine without him. The stadium anthems blasted out and the cannons booming during the final song, For Those About To Rock, meant that even the most remote Wellington suburbs could be assured that the show did indeed go on. The fireworks at the end made me really glad that the stadium doesn't have a roof, even though it may have averted all the problems caused by last night's weather.

It would sad if this show was just remembered for the rain, wind and the technical difficulties they caused. This was a stellar performance by a legendary band who have clearly still got it. Was it better than 2010? I don't think so, but it certainly held its own among the stream of bands and artists from a similar era touring the world today.

Elton John in concert

"She packed my bags last night, pre-flight
Zero hour, 9 am."

Elton John, Rocket Man himself, touched down in Wellington yesterday for a rocking night at Westpac Stadium. It would be his final time touring this part of the world - or so the promoter said. The man himself may have other ideas, insisting that he will be back. After seeing Elton John in concert twice now (at the same venue), I hope he makes it a hat-trick.

I'll openly admit that I became more of an Elton John fan after seeing him perform live in Wellington in 2006. Sure, I'd played and listened to a significant chunk of his back catalogue while growing up as a pianist but had written him off as a performing peacock, strutting and preening on stage while his amazing band of tireless musicians did all the actual work. How wrong I was! From the moment those ethereal opening lines of Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding blasted out, to the instantly recognisable opening staccato piano chord of Benny and the Jetssss, I could see we were in for a huge night.

Fast forward to 2015 and much of the set list was the same. But just like a vintage wine, it sounded even more mature and enjoyable this time around. Wow, what a performance! With around 2 1/4 hours of solid piano playing and entertaining, there are too many highlights to single out. Hits, B-sides, lesser known numbers and stellar megahits rang out right through to the Crocodile Rocking encore that had the whole crowd on their feet. Also, the glow sticks and battery-operated candles that used to be for sale outside events have now given way to a sea of cell phones lighting up the stadium for Candle in the Wind. The cell phone lights also made an appearance during Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me, which Elton dedicated to the late Jonah Lomu.

Elton talked about how his writing partnership with lyricist Bernie Taupin is now into its 48th year. He also introduced long serving members of the Elton John band: Nigel Olsson on drums and Davey Johnstone on guitar. They've collaborating for more years than I've been alive. What an achievement!

The only fly in the ointment (apart from the cold wind - but a beanie and coat fixed that problem) was intermittent sound quality, with keyboards and bass out of balance and the top end missing during some key numbers. I crossed my fingers that it wasn't a local sound mixer on deck last night.

Will he be back? Here's hoping. Maybe then I'll finally get to hear him perform his elusive tribute to John Lennon, the legendary Empty Garden.

10CC in concert

From time to time I get emails from my dad with a band name in the subject line. It usually means one of two things:

1. Dad is asking whether I have a particular CD that he'd like to borrow and, if not, whether I'd like to buy it for him.
2. Dad is suggesting an upcoming concert that I should buy tickets for us to go to.

Last week's email from Dad said 10CC. This time, however, there was a slight twist. Dad had been given two tickets to 10CC in concert in Wellington and wondered if I'd like to go with him. That makes a nice change!

I delightedly announced my news to those around me. Here's how the general conversation went:

Me: "I'm going to 10CC on Friday!"
Them: "What does that mean?"
Me: "They're an English rock band from the 70s ..."
Them: "What do they sing?"
Me: "*Play* - what do they play."
Them: "Do they sing I'm Not In Love? I like that song."
Me: "There's so much more to 10CC than I'm Not In Love."
Them: "Oh, that's right! They also sing the cricket song!"
Me: *shakes head and sighs*

On to the show. We were promised an opening acoustic set of songs written by front man Graham Gouldman that were performed by other bands in the 1960s - something I was really looking forward to. The lights came up to a Gouldman acoustic guitar solo version of Pamela Pamela by The Mindbenders. Band members were progressively introduced and they each joined the stage with an acoustic guitar in hand until there was a full compliment of four guitarists, playing beautiful versions of classics such as A Heart Full of Soul and For Your Love (The Yardbirds), No Milk Today (Herman's Hermits) and Bus Stop and Look Through Any Window (The Hollies). Gouldman described the circumstances behind the songs and how they came about, the common element being good storytelling as the starting point for each song. Perfect harmonies rounded out a feelgood set of happy vibes.

The 10CC concert set list itself was a well polished selection of the band's biggest hits along with a few of their more obscure numbers. For a band renown for their top notch studio production, they managed to authentically replicate their sound on stage without jeopardising any of their 'live' vibe. One of my favourites was played early on, a detuned version of The Things We Do For Love that still featured great harmonies but just didn't spark as much in a lower key. An extended version of Art for Art's Sake was a highlight, complete with fades in all the right places and great bass solos.

The true test, though, was whether the band could pull off I'm Not In Love with its gazillion overdubbed backing tracks live on stage. I'm almost disappointed to report (refer to above conversation) that it was absolutely note perfect. Not a single harmonic gap and a perfect balance between the backing track and live performance. Damn! I really didn't want to like it so much but this song was totally impressive, even for this cynical musician. The crowd were on their feet for an over-pumped version of Dreadlock Holiday and the extremely fun Rubber Bullets, which I'm proud to say I still remember absolutely every word of and sang all the way home.

For me, the secret to 10CC's appeal is well crafted storytelling coupled with excellent instrumentation and production, performed seemingly with ease by skilled multi-instrumentalists. I was surprised to see a single bass guitar makes it way around three different sized band members. Sharing a guitar, let alone a bass would be sacrilege in any other band! Ditto sharing a mic between four singers harmonising an a capella song (Donna as the first encore). The sound mix was really on form.

What a great concert! Fantastic musicians performing an excellent back catalogue, great company (Dad) and a happy trip down musical memory lane.

Ukulele renaissance

I joined a ukulele orchestra on the way to work last week.

Wait, back up for just a minute.

In a previous life, I used to run a lunch time ukulele orchestra. There were 15 regulars in its heyday and less as time went on, but for half an hour each week, a random group of workmates would congregate in a quiet room and strum along to cheesy pop songs with silly grins plastered all over our faces. I stand by what I said way back then: you can't take anything in life seriously when you're playing a purple ukulele.

It kicked off something of a minor ukulele obsession, much to my musician father's embarrassment. "You don't play in public, do you?" he checked. But ukuleles were all the rage at the time in certain circles. The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain showed the world how it was done and other local ensembles had a go at imitating them. Sunday ukulele clubs popped up and everyone was in - or it seemed like they were. This post, where I shared a graphic of common ukulele chords and a ukulele masterpiece played by Jake Shimabukuro, remains the most-clicked post from my blog with a massive 62500+ hits since I first uploaded it in 2009.

But times change and things move on. The ukulele is less retro-chic now and more "so 2010, darling". Haters gonna hate and all that! Yet, here I am a few years later dusting off my ukulele, resurrecting my wiki, photocopying song charts and remembering how much fun it is to get together for a short musical oasis in an otherwise hectic and stressful week.

This time it will be different, though. I've promised myself I will simply turn up to play each week and will not end up running the group. Repeat: I will not end up running the group. I may chart a song or two, introduce a few new chords, teach a couple of intros and endings, get the group to practise some basic chord progressions. ... but I will not end up running the group. Uh huh. No way.

Old habits die hard.

Ready To Roll

We're enduring a long, slow Friday today. With only 40% of staff present in our office, the ensuing quiet should technically enable more productivity but has instead resulted in a general malaise that isn't helped by the dreary weather outside. So we're collectively tackling some really big issues.

It was all sparked by the casual Friday wardrobe choice of our 24-year-old accounting assistant. Spotted wearing a RTR t-shirt, he was asked by another colleague whether he knew what it meant. A quick Google search and he told us that it was "an old TV programme". "What does it stand for?" he was further challenged. "Ready To Roll," he read. By now, he had gathered quite an audience, all within a certain age range. We swiftly delivered a verdict: "You can’t be allowed to wear a RTR t-shirt if you don't know what it means and weren't even born at the time."

Naturally, he argued that he could wear the t-shirt. After all, he has been listening to some old music lately. He proudly told me a few weeks ago that, "I listened to an 80s song last week. It wasn't too bad." He then went on to name an obscure number that apparently earns him the right to say he knows about 80s music now. He "might even listen to another 80s song sometime" if I can recommend something for him to download. Never mind the oxymoron that is downloading 80s music.

Here's how it is: unless 6 pm Saturdays, Robbie Rakete with long hair (he was Robbie then, not Robert or a Wiggle), counting down to the number one single and not being allowed to stay up late enough to watch Radio With Pictures on a Sunday night rings a bell, you shouldn't be allowed to wear the t-shirt. Not in any circumstances. Not ever. Not even if you've listened to an 80s song once. No way. It's a bit like wearing a t-shirt for a concert you never went to or remembering Woodstock.

What do you think? Are we being too harsh?

The Muppet Show marathon

I am a huuuuuuuuuge Muppet Show fan. I was thrilled to be given boxed sets of Series 1 and 2 of The Muppet Show on DVD for my birthday and have enjoyed watching classic episodes during mini Muppet marathons (half-marathons, maybe?). Each episode is short enough to watch just one or two (or three) at a time whenever you need a pick-me-up. They're also incredibly addictive. Luckily I still have plenty more episodes to watch, then it will be back to the beginning again and again.

There is so much to love about the Muppets, with an endearing cast of characters and great running gags. I'd forgotten how many one liners George the Janitor quipped on the dance floor. I always preferred Veterinarian's Hospital to Pigs In Space. The two resident hecklers, Statler and Waldorf, are surprisingly sharp, as poor Fozzie Bear knows all too well. Then there's the perpetually hapless Great Gonzo, whose greatest admirer is Camilla the Chicken.

Here's Fozzie telling the world's funniest joke. "Good grief, the comedian's a bear!" Cracks me up every time.



While many of the special guests have faded into oblivion or weren't quite as funny as they thought they were, some were truly memorable. I loved Rita Moreno's dance sequence where she effortlessly, then exasperatingly, threw her Muppet admirers around the room. Her episode finished with Animal accompanying her on the drums while she sang "Fever". Of course it went wrong for her. I always remember Ben Vereen's smiley, happy cabaret-style episode. Although I don't really know what Avery Schreiber was famous for, he was certainly one of the funniest guests.

But really, it's the musical numbers that set The Muppet Show apart. Rowlf the Dog is an astonishingly good pianist and definitely one of my favourite characters. I love his renditions of classical arrangements, many of which I learned to play myself. He almost met his musical match when Bruce Forsyth played a beautiful version of "Let There Be Love" during his guest appearance. Dr Teeth and the Electric Mayhem are my heroes and Zoot is an absolutely legendary sax player. Just listen to his fine form during one of my favourite numbers, "Sax and Violence".



Classic. Timeless. Hilarious. Muppets rock.

Swan Lake

The  Royal New Zealand Ballet is celebrating 60 years in 2013 and on Thursday night we saw the company perform Swan Lake, accompanied by New Zealand Symphony Orchestra. Tchaikovsky's masterpiece is a fitting celebration for the ballet, who are in very fine form.

Reviews are favourable and thoroughly deserved. The set is exquisite, conveying elegance, depth and mystique around the lake, which contrasts with the opulence of the palace. The costumes are a work of art themselves and work well with the highly technical choreography. (Count those jumps on pointes!)

Gillian Murphy playing the dual roles of Odette and Odile was beyond outstanding, if that's possible. It's hard to look anywhere else when Murphy takes the stage; her performance as the vulnerable Odette contrasted with the brash, self-assured Odile is truly mesmerising. Karel Cruz's legs go on forever, making every movement seem silky smooth. Rory Fairweather-Neylan delivered a strong, energetic performance as the jester and Sir Jon Trimmer appeared for a delightful cameo.

This production deviated from the traditional ending, which was a surprise but doesn't take away from the resplendent performance. Swan Lake by the Royal New Zealand Ballet really is a must see.

The Nutcracker

I adore The Nutcracker. It's my absolute favourite ballet and the score puts me in a childlike happy place each year in the crazy lead-up to Christmas.

Last night, I ticked off one of the things on my Well, I never list when I saw Moscow Ballet perform The Nutcracker in Wellington. (I kicked myself after missing out on the Royal New Zealand Ballet production of The Nutcracker a few years ago so resolved to put it right next time the show came to town.)



This was a highly technical production with the danseur playing the Nutcracker Prince deserving the highest accolades. His dancing was simply superb! The Arabian coffee soloists with their acrobatic infused routine also stole the limelight during the Land of the Sweets solos. I don't remember the mice being so sinister in the televised versions I've seen and was surprised at how ominous the model nutcracker looked before coming to life. I also expected the Sugar Plum Fairy to be pinky-purple but she was instead resplendent in white with a silver trim.

There is a good synopsis here if you're not familiar with all the characters and how they come to life throughout the ballet. Even if you don't know all of the Nutcracker Suite, you are probably aware of the muzak versions of the beautiful Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy Waltz of the Flowers and Dance of the Toy Trumpets; thanks to repetitive advertising from cleaning product manufacturers. I implore you to see and hear each piece in its intended glory on a beautiful stage. I grinned for nearly two hours!

A totally magical evening and a childhood dream. Next time, I'd love to see The Nutcracker accompanied by a live orchestra.

Madame Butterfly

According to my sixth form English teacher, the definition of a tragedy is one where "you know something (bad) is going to happen but there is no way it can be stopped". Other events or disasters might be tragic, but a true artistic or literary tragedy is one that fits this definition. And so it is for Madame Butterfly, Puccini's operatic masterpiece: a classic tragedy.

Madame Butterfly flutters into town this week after a successful run in Auckland. If you managed to get tickets to this sold out season, you are in for a treat.

New Zealand Opera is in fine form and this production is stunning. Set in 1904 Nagasaki, Japan, this story of undying, yet unrequited, love is truly heartrending. Antoinette Halloran convincingly plays the lovestruck Cio-Cio San, who devotedly waits for three long years for the return of her American husband, Benjamin Pinkerton, but finds that his homecoming is not as she hoped for. Lucy Schaufer stood out as Suzuki, Cio-Cio's devoted maid. There was not much chemistry between Halloran and Piero Pretti, who played Pinkerton, but it was a pleasure to hear his tenor in this role.

The set features rice paper screens that are moved and adjusted throughout the show, using lighting to set the mood. This visual simplicity means you are able to admire the detailed beauty of the costumes and props throughout the show without being distracted by the scenery.

I loved this sign outside the theatre doors promising a loud explosion during the second act. Action! Excitement! What's not to love about this opera? We were warned about the impending explosion several times during the break, with the libretto hinting that a ship would dock and we would know about it because its arrival would be announced by an exploding cannon. It turned out to be quite a non-event, but did the job of building anticipation for Pinkerton's return from America. It also kept the man next to me awake and paying attention, instead of gently snoring in his seat like he did during the first act. Yes, really!

No need for alarm ...

Tragic. Painful. Heartbreaking. Beautiful. Madame Butterfly is an absolute must-see.

Paul Simon in concert

Anyone who follows me on Twitter will know that I went to see Paul Simon live in concert in Auckland on Monday night. Anyone who read my tweets after the concert will know just how much I loved it. Anyone who knows me knows that the concert coincided with a major life event. Anyone who is still around will know that I spent most of this week floating back down to earth. Slowly. What a night!

My concert-going has matured much in the way that my coffee drinking has over the years: there are fewer these days but they are of much better quality. This means that I really look forward to concerts (and coffee) and savour them before, during and afterwards. My excitement in the lead-up to Paul Simon was almost tangible. Coming back to reality a few days later was hard.

Four years ago, I made a similar hikoi to Auckland for Simon & Garfunkel. Actually, that trip was mostly just to see Paul Simon and his solo set in the middle of that concert had me vowing to go anywhere, any time if he ever toured New Zealand on his own, never thinking that it would actually happen. On the day this year’s shows were announced, I had booked flights and annual leave before concert tickets were even on sale; there is no way I was going to miss this musical legend on stage. I don't even know what the tour was called, only that I would do whatever it took to go. And I’m so glad I did. Monday night’s concert was worth every cent, every logistic detail that needed organising, every hour spent on various forms of public transport. I’d do it again in a flash.

I had planned on doing a post mortem of the concert, reliving each song blow by blow for my own musical gratification. However, a super-hyped sleepless night after the show and notes scribbled in the dark on the back of my ticket didn't lead to anything coherent until some draft ramblings during the past few nights. So this post is less of a review and more a reflection of impressions and highlights.

You can find the set list here; it’s a goodie. Given Simon’s impressive back catalogue, the two hour list could easily have been made up of completely different songs while still delivering a stellar performance. We were treated to two more songs than Dunedin concertgoers: Still Crazy After All These Years and The Boy In The Bubble, which I am used to listening to at the start of a Paul Simon session as the opening number on Graceland.

There were so many musical highlights: being reminded of how central a good rhythm guitar is in Me And Julio Down By The Schoolyard, the brilliant orchestration in Late In The Evening (albeit too fast), then waiting for that bass solo in You Can Call Me Al. Dad and I have spent hours ripping those two palindromic bars apart, never quite managing to put them back together again in just the right way. Well, the bass player slapped it (because he could!) and repeated it at the end of the song (because he could) to cheers from the crowd. Magic!

The truly incredible thing is that Simon sounds exactly like he always has. Neither his voice nor guitar playing has degenerated over the years. That certainly can’t be said of every artist who has been in the game for so long. Much like Bob Dylan, Simon’s songwriting is so strong and beautifully constructed that it can be interpreted and reinterpreted in so many different ways without losing any of its authenticity, which is just what the excellent eight-piece backing band did. This saw us treated to a slower, more mellow version of Slip Slidin' Away along with some other songs being rearranged.

The transition from Hearts and Bones into Mystery Train and Wheels was clever, comedic and certainly entertaining. However, I’m not sure the people sitting either side of me even realised that there were two other songs in this medley ... but I digress. Likewise, I enjoyed the way Kodachrome merged into Gone At Last, offering up the only key change I spotted during the night. The band managed to fill the gaps where Phoebe Snow’s wailing would have been without any fuss.

Although I didn’t expect to hear Take Me To The Mardi Gras, it would have been nice to hear in place of a Here Comes The Sun, an unnecessary Beatles cover that pleased the crowd but left me wanting more of who I had come to see. Also, I would have loved to hear Mother and Child Reunion and had been looking forward to the changing rhythms at the end of Loves Me Like A Rock, but they weren't necessarily glaring omissions.

For me, the evening was about the experience of seeing a legendary songwriter present his work on stage as much as the songs he chose to do this with. I am so thrilled to have ticked another concert off my Top 5 list, as this is one that I never expected I'd get to do. It's fitting that Paul Simon's music has once again provided the backdrop for a major event in my life, making the trip down memory lane on Monday night about even more than his music.

Boil the Frog

I found a cool app via Mashable this morning. Boil the Frog creates a progression between two artists, a kind of musical evolution. It creates a playlist complete with album art that you can listen to online. The example given shows how Miley Cyrus can morph to Miles Davis in 18 songs and, surprisingly, it makes sense. It is incredibly addictive!

I tried it out by turning my iPhone onto shuffle and entering in the next two artists. It took 19 songs to get from Rosemary Clooney (don't ask) to Al Green. Wow!

Give it a try! Enter your favourite artists or the two most random ones you can think of. Don't just think about the difference in years between the artists; genre, instrumentation, country and so-called 'popularity' all produce varied results. I had some fun with these combinations:

• Tom Petty --> Adele in 16 songs. (That surprised me.)
• Chuck Berry --> Cyndi Lauper in 14 songs
• The Who --> Sinead O'Connor in 9 songs
• Patti Page --> Rammstein took a bit longer with 26 songs.
• Prince --> The Hollies in 10 songs
• Split Enz --> Diana Ross in 11 songs
• The Pogues --> Fiona Apple in 11 songs

I forecast hours of geeky musical fun on the way!

RIP Dave Brubeck

It was with nostalgic sadness that I learned about the death of jazz legend DaveBrubeck yesterday. Not only was Dave Brubeck an amazing musician, but he was a pianist – and it's rare for a keyboard player to headline a band in almost any genre. As a keyboard player, I know this!

Let me paint a little musical picture. I took School Certificate Music in fifth form when most 'bright' girls had long given up the subject. My school let me take performance music in sixth form, but then asked, "haven't you taken this music thing far enough?" when I wanted to take Bursary music. To this day, I am glad my mother took on the school principal by saying, "I don't think you understand: my family are musicians." It worked. Music went on to become a degree subject, a career and a lifelong passion.

'Classical' music was pretty new to me at school. A tiny part of the School Cert prescription (yes, they were prescriptions in those days) was about jazz music and the set piece was none other than the Dave Brubeck Quartet’s legendary Take Five. I didn't know much about jazz music either at the time, other than it was something my rock and pop music family were generally wary of. I remember listening to the crackly record player in the music room and was instantly caught out by the 5/4 rhythm. That was different. Challenging, almost.

Take Five became a suite of musical works whose every note is engrained into my memory all these years later. We had to listen repeatedly to the music we studied and analyse musical scores in great detail, but I don’t remember there being a score for Take Five. That's because it was made up of this thing called improvisation. I knew about jamming, but this took things to a whole new level. How can you improvise on a theme in 5/4 timing, playing 'freely' while concentrating so intently on such an unconventional time signature?

A few years later, I remember hearing Pink Floyd’s "Money" for the first time on the radio while driving home one night. I had to pull over and listen to the rest of the song at the side of the road. How can you drive to a song with 7/4 timing interspersed with 4/4? It took me right back to Take Five all over again.

RIP Dave Brubeck. You leave behind a lengthy back catalogue and an impressive contribution to music. I can't begin to thank you enough for introducing me to my love of jazz music and the world of polyrhythm.

The Bartered Bride

The New Zealand Opera season of The Bartered Bride opens in Wellington tomorrow night. Last night, we were lucky enough to get a sneak peak at the final dress rehearsal. I have enjoyed hearing how the last few months of rehearsals were progressing and it was great to see everything coming together on stage.

The Bartered Bride is a comic look at Bohemian life by Czech composer Bedřich Smetana. Originally set in the 1860s, it's all about scheming, social climbing and marrying favourably to settle family debts, thereby ensuring financial security but all the time threatening the happiness of the star-crossed lovers. The circus performers stole the show with their short segment and Conal Coad gave a standout performance as the scheming matchmaker, Kecal. Predictably, true love prevails and things all work out amiably. Of course.

At 2 hours 40 minutes, this opera is a long time sitting. Thankfully it is sung in English, although subtitles were projected above the theatre boxes on both sides of the stage.

Easter guilty pleasures

Everyone has a guilty pleasure or three. Whether it is food, boy bands, rom coms or trashy magazines, there is always something that those around you secretly love but are hesitantly to openly admit - and the guilty pleasures often don't appear to 'match' the person hiding the secret.

Apart from chocolate, hot cross buns and other goodies, I have a couple of musical guilty pleasures that I only indulge at Easter. There are two albums in my music collection that otherwise never see daylight at any other time of the year and I listen to them both in their entirety over the Easter weekend. Michael Flatley's Lord of the Dance is currently blasting while my breadmaker is kneading dough for hot cross buns and the New Zealand cast version of Jesus Christ Superstar will have its turn while I bake cupcakes this afternoon. So very 1990s. So very good just once a year!

So, what guilty pleasures do you confess to? You can remain anonymous if you're not brave enough to come clean publicly ... ;-)

Grease - the singalong version

I think I might have discovered the ultimate girls' night out: Grease - the singalong version. I'd seen this event advertised and lamented the fact that my best friend, another huge Grease (1978) fan, lives in Auckland. I couldn't think of anyone else I'd ask to go with me (you can imagine what my sweetie's response would have been) so let it pass. Yesterday, I was chatting with a friend at work when she said, "I've got something really random to ask you, and don't take this the wrong way, but would you be interested in going to the singalong version of Grease at the Embassy tonight?" She saw my face light up and was relieved to realise she'd asked exactly the right person.

My friend had no clue what a die hard Grease fan I actually am. Others think they are, too, but they didn't measure up last night; out of a theatre full of wannabe Sandys and pink wigs, very few seemed to know the script, the songs playing on the jukebox, the dance moves ... am I being too fanatical? Perhaps, but that's what happens when you've watched your favourite movie several hundred times since you were 8. I didn't understand most of what was they were saying or doing for several years, even though I could recite almost every line, but loved every minute of it. Ahh, the age of innocence.

After about 15 minutes, I realised that I'd never actually seen Grease on the big screen, and here I was watching a karaoke version with hundreds of people swigging Pink Lady slushies (strawberry syrup, rum and lime) and T-Bird cocktails from plastic Martini glasses. The audience cheered loudly as each character appeared on screen for the first time and ohhed when they saw Kenickie, as Jeff Conaway died in May. They whooped and whistled every time Danny and Sandy kissed and booed disapprovingly when Cha Cha DiGregorio ransacked Danny to take out the dance off trophy at the prom.

One of my favourite songs from the movie is today's tune spinning on Café Chick's Jukebox - check out (and sing) the awesome Summer Nights.