feu d'artifice
In light of our most satisfactory performance on Calduch's exam this morning, and the presumed victory implied therein, we celebrate by appending appropriately festive (tho ultimately utterly unrelated) images and sounds from last Tuesday.
Last Tuesday was the actual feast day of San Isidro, date which closed off the weeklong festivities comemorating the patron saint of Madrid. In honour of this, as well as in belated celebration of my birthday, the city organized a major free-for-all of a final act upon the banks of the Manzanares (Manzanares, Manzanares, arroyo aprendiz de río; en peligros y milagros hace que parezca Nilo - Quevedo, 1642) River: a concert of Georg Friedrich Händel's Water Music, followed by his Music for the Royal Fireworks, to be accompanied by - you guessed it - fireworks.
As is the norm throughout the Festial of San Isidro, this event was announced by the city weeks in advance, and the starting date was set for half-past-nine in the evening, although the gates opened at half-past-six; knowing full-well from last year's experience that Madrid thrives with packs of vicious old people who do nothing but stalk from event to event staking out all the decent viewing spots, Claire and I knew that if we wished to have any hope of doing this and actually, you know, being close enough to hear the music, we would have to arrive violently early. And so we did, arriving at the very point when the gates opened and grabbing decent enough seats near the front, whiling away the time studying the theories of collective security, reading really fantastic poetry by Karmelo Iribarren to each other, chatting up on random things, people watching, and eating wasabi-covered soybeans and Esco's fantastic brownies with improvised cutting utensils.
("A modicum of Edorta can be most efficacious.")
The time flew by rather quickly, however, and all too soon it was time for Claire and my favourite part of public events in Madrid, which is to say the mild rioting that occurs as it comes nearer to showtime and far more people than expected end up showing up at the last minute. Indeed, there were 4,000 seats available within a specially gated area, ideally set up before the stage, where Claire and I had claimed our spots. And this would have been fine, indeed, had only 4,000 people shown up. Instead, however...
25,000 people came. And that swarm completely encircled the seating area, and were none-too-pleased to be excluded (despite having shown up mega-late). The usual shouting and turmoil ensued, which served as pleasant-enough pre-show entertainment.
Soon enough, however, it became evident that things were soon to commence. His excellency Alberto Ruiz-Gallardón, Madrid's most-excellent Mayor (and mastermind behind the restoration of the city and it's new, gloriously streamlined 21st century layout) arrived, and exhibited himself to be as famously jumpy as he has always been said to be, a flurry of darting back and forth, conversing with random elements of the crowd, kissing babies and patting elderly women on the head, shaking hands with the musicians and all the while beaming an enormous smile and maybe even slightly girating a little.
And then the musicians took their places...
(There was a harpsichord, hurrah!)
And then, they began.
And it was all really quite splendid, the Water Music and the sunset and the backdrop of the Cathedral and the Palace only across the river and through the trees, up the hill away.
At some point during this portion of the concert, the crowd left outside ended up breaking through one of the gates near the street and occupying the opposite side of the river; for awhile from that point onwards, the light classical music was accompanied by the sight of the police forces chasing people with their batons trying to get them away from the spots they had usurped on the other shore.
And then it was time for the Music for the Royal Fireworks, which started off with a bang.
I actually managed to film the entireity of the first Allegro movement, but this is apparently too large for youtube to comfortably support, so if you'll remind me I'll show it to you kids personally, be at the next soirée here in Madrid or during the summer-months in Miami; no matter, tho - I was able to quite comfortably upload large part of the second 'Bourrée' movement, which actually had some of the most impressive of the fireworks (especially the firefly effect at the end), and you can see this appended immediately below.
Click to view(I really enjoy the shocked "Ooooh!" and "Aaaah!" sounds from the crowd, as well as the sporadic "PORFAVOR!", and the outline of the conductor flayling about as all hell breaks loose on the other side of the stage.)
Bravos and bravas, all around.
Other things: as pre-stated, the exam went rather well, both yesterday and this morning, and so we expect that we may have, therefore, seen the last of Calduch, which is both unfortunate and most welcome, in that (if true) it means that we are basically done for the year. Yes, a few minor exams and incoveniences left, including a paper to be writ tomorrow and an Economics exam that only divine intervention will allow us to succesfully complete, but, indeed, things are still winding down quite nicely, and the stress is effectively off of us at present.
Indeed, it has been a good day.
More tomorrow, or soon, kids.