Concert Review from El Mundo

Concert Review from El Mundo

EL MUNDO, SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 17, 2017

CLASSICAL – KREMLIN STRINGS

HOMAGE TO MEADOWS

XXXIX DEIÀ FESTIVAL

Concert in memory of Patrick Meadows: Kremlin Strings. Conductor: Misha Rachlevsky. Repertoire: Works by Schubert, Schoenberg, Schnauber and Tchaikovsky. Location: Son Marroig. Date: September 13.

F.M. PALMA

(Translation by Nicole)

An elegy (Tchaikovsky) and a tango (Piazzola) crowned Misha Rachlevsky’s return to the Deià Festival in what turned out to be a very special evening in memory of Patrick Meadows – creator of the Festival – who passed away a few months ago. The truth is we missed a sign of affection such as this event, whose main instigators were the pianist Susan Bradbury and John Patrick, Meadow’s son. Continue reading “Concert Review from El Mundo”

A Life of Sundays (Norman’s Story)

IRDW Norman Yannikun lived over the troll’s bridge by Font Fresca.  He had no running water in his house, and you would see him by the flowing water, a mirror hanging on the stone retaining wall as he shaved and performed his morning ablutions.  Winters he generally wore the khaki fur liner of a GI’s combat jacket.  After the war he had settled in Paris for a couple of decades dedicating himself to painting, living on the GI Bill and then an Army pension.  No doubt he came to Deià to live on the cheap, perhaps at the suggestion of other American expats who had already discovered the Tramuntana. Continue reading “A Life of Sundays (Norman’s Story)”

Ayer éramos ocho

Ayer éramos ocho

(17 de septiembre, 2017, JP)

(Translation of Yesterday We were Eight by Nicole)

Allí, metidos en el bolsillo de la bata de Patrick que colgaba del armario de Ivonne en el casco antiguo de Palma de Mallorca, la isla que tanto amaba, estaban sus tirantes.

Me asaltaron los recuerdos: su pulcritud, la dignidad y la elegancia con que llevaba su edad.

Surgieron otros recuerdos: empaquetar, distribuir lo que sus amigos y familia querían, las cosas que había que donar; mandar zapatos a una hermana, camisas a la otra, jerséis a ambas; entregarle a Ivonne la bata que contenía aquellos tirantes.

Alojado en casa de Ivonne, me puse la bata un momento y en el bolsillo descubrí unos pañuelos viejos y… aquellos tirantes de una elegancia imperecedera.

Ayer éramos ocho los que nos reunimos en el restaurante Basmati para almorzar. Shahin, el dueño, se unió a nosotros para honrar a mi padre con tristeza y alegría, y con una comida espléndida. Éramos ocho: Carl y Antoinette, Suzy, Ivonne, Hannah, Carol, Nicole y yo.

Yo llevaba los tirantes, y volvimos a ser nueve.

The Taxi

In memory and praise of Patrick’s refined sense of humour, I am sharing one of his numerous stories, worthy of the fabulous wise fool, Mulla Nasruddin, as told by himself at Carl & Antoinette’s place in Deià, last year. (N. d’A.)

The Taxi

Thursday evening, I was invited to supper in Deià and I drank so much wine I couldn’t drive home to Valldemossa so I took a taxi.

Next morning I couldn’t work out what the taxi was doing in my garage!

Concert review (English)

Published in Ultima Hora, 14 Sep 2017

PATRICK

by Emili Gené Vila

(English translation by Nicole.)

Concert review from Ultima Hora newspaper

I remember him playing the double bass or an organ, conducting a chamber orchestra he himself had created, conducting a choir, or directing the Music Festival, a miracle that remains very much alive, eager to recall the enthusiasm with which Patrick turned Deià into a musical world reference. There were moving speeches to remember Patrick Meadows (Susanne Bradbury, an old friend of those heroic and wonderful times, was unable to finish her reading). There were his son, his friends, the owners of Son Marroig, the conductor Misha Rachelevsky — and Stephanie Shepard, present as always. It was an extraordinary concert, outside the original program of the Festival, that served to bid farewell to Patrick with the sadness of the loss (Schnauber’s piece and the elegy in the encore), but also with the elusive joy of music. The Kremlin Chamber Orchestra interpreted some of Patrick’s favourite pieces. In the first half we heard a transfigured Night that lifted the spirit of everyone present. Memorable, as was Tchaikovsky’s Serenade: two pieces that lead the orchestra to its full expression — a young orchestra that sounded as though it was composed only of masters. The concert was excellent in every way: precision, style, pure rhythm and vitality, as well as dynamic, subtle and conclusive in Piazzola’s Libertango — the conductor’s last present to us in the second encore. Vigour and enthusiasm: I can’t think of a better setting to pay tribute to that restless pioneer we all owe so much to.