8th March 2025: Wiener Sängerknaben Spain Tour, half of a weekend’s plan (Madrid, Spain)

Where should I get to see the Vienna Boy’s choir Wiener Sängerknaben? Vienna? Of course not! Madrid, of course. We did try to see them in their home town, but it did not work out, because they sang before we arrived, and while we were on our way to the airport on the day we left. However, chance wanted that their Schubert Choir Schubertchor would be touring Spain in March, and Madrid would be their first stop. We got good tickets by a hair’s breadth, because my parents do not believe in booking in advance – nor in me booking for everyone – but we got them, literally last row of stalls.

Nobody knows exactly when the historical Wiener Sängerknaben was established, but there are records of boys singing at the Imperial Chapel back in 1296, even before the chapel was in Vienna. The Boys Choir just performed for the Court until 1918, when the Austria-Hungary Empire collapsed. In 1924, the institution was re-established as a private non-profit. It remained boys-only until 2004, when the Girls Choir Wiener Chormädchen was founded.

The boys attend their own campus from primary to senior high school. There are 100 choristers divided in four choirs (Bruckner, Haydn, Mozart and Schubert), each of which tours for around 10 weeks per school year. They perform High Mass in the chapel of the Imperial Palace every Sunday as part of an ensemble called Hofmusikkapelle (Court Music Orchestra), formed by the boys and members of the choir and orchestra of the Vienna State Opera (Wiener Staatsope).

As part of those ten-week tours, it was announced that in 2025 the Schubert Choir would tour South Korea, Spain, Switzerland and Italy. In Spain, they were to perform four special concerts in Madrid, Seville, Alicante and Valencia. The Madrid show took place at 11:00 in the national auditorium Auditorio Nacional de Música. The auditorium was designed by architect José María García de Paredes and it opened in 1988. The largest music hall can host over 2400 spectators.

Auditorio Nacional, inside and out

The Schubertchor has 22 members from all over the world – though most are Austrian, others come from China, Croatia, the Czech Republic, England, Germany, Hungary, Japan, South Korea and Ukraine. The boys’ names are not released, but they were touring with Peruvian conductor Andy Icochea Icochea, who had previously worked in the Wiener Sängerknaben between 2005 and 2011. Icochea seems to have specialised in training young choristers, and has had a long career with different choirs and orchestras, even with a music charity. He has collaborated with other directors such as Riccardo Muti, who conducted the 2024 Silvesterkontzert / 2025 New Year’s concert in Vienna.

The day of the concert started raining buckets, but we had decided to try public transport instead of driving to the area where the Auditorio Nacional de Música stands. Afterwards, we wanted to have lunch and head to Expominerales, which was held that same weekend. We arrived with plenty of time, and we had to find a café to pass the time until doors opened. Once that happened, it was a bit of a chaos of umbrellas and everybody trying to push in at the same time. If you think young people get excited before a concert, they’ve got nothing on senior citizens.

At 11:00 sharp, even before the hall had completely filled up – doors had opened kind of late in my opinion, less than half hour in advance – the children and the director came out. People were still being admitted during for the first couple of songs, and the auditorium staff were harassing patrons about where they had placed their jackets, or whether they were in their correct seats, well into the show. It was weird, and a bit disrespectful, those details should have been sorted beforehand. However, the concert itself were amazing. Most of it was sung a capella, and only a piano was used for accompanying the choristers in several songs, played by Icochea himself.

Vienna Boys' Choir Madrid

Setlist:
  First part:
    1. Kaiser-Walzer, Op. 437 (Emperor Waltz), composed by Johan Strauß II, with lyrics by Victor Gombocz and arranged by Gerald Wirth.
    2. Der Wassermann (The Water Genie), composed by Robert Schumann, with lyrics by Justinus Kerner.
    3. Hebe deine Augen auf zu den Bergen (Lift thine eyes), trio from Elias, Op. 70 (The Prophet Elijah), composed by Felix Mendelssohn from the lyrics of Psalm 121:1-4.
    4. Die Meere, Op. 20 No. 3 (The Seas), composed by Johannes Brahms
    5. Psalm 23, D.706, composed by Franz Schubert with Germany lyrics by Moses Mendelssohn.
    6a. Nun stehen die Rosen in Blüte (Now the roses have bloomed) from Der Jungbrunnen, Op. 44 (The Fountain of Youth) composed by Johannes Brahms with lyrics by Paul Heyse.
    6b. Die Berge sind spitz (The mountains are pointed) from Der Jungbrunnen, Op. 44 (The Fountain of Youth) composed by Johannes Brahms with lyrics by Paul Heyse.
    6c. Am Wildbach die Weiden (The willows beside the stream) from Der Jungbrunnen, Op. 44 (The Fountain of Youth) composed by Johannes Brahms with lyrics by Paul Heyse.
    6d. Und gehst du über den Kirchhof (And if you walk across the churchyard) from Der Jungbrunnen, Op. 44 (The Fountain of Youth) composed by Johannes Brahms with lyrics by Paul Heyse.
    7. Inclina Domine aurem tuam ad me, Op. 118 (Incline your ear, Lord, to me), Josef Gabriel Rheinberger (Psalm 86).
    8. Erlkonig (The Elven King) composed by Franz Schubert, with lyrics by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, arranged by Oliver Gies.
    9. Sängerslust, Polka française, Op. 328 (Singer’s Joy, French Polka), composed by Johann Strauß II with lyrics by Joseph Weil.
    10. Wiener Blut, Walzer Op. 354 (Viennese Spirit), composed by Johann Strauß II, arranged by Helmuth Froschauer.
  Second part:
    11. 아리랑 [Arirang] (impossible to translate, but it might have meant “My beloved one” in Ancient Korean), arranged by Gerald Wirth, a traditional Korean love song from the Kyonggi Do province, with over 60 variations.
    12. Vreneli abem Guggisberg (Vreneli from Guggisberg), Swiss folk song arranged by Gerald Wirth.
    13. Müsle gang ga schlofa (Go to sleep, little mouse). Cradle song from Vorarlberg, Austria with lyrics by Walter Weinzierl, arranged by Gerald Wirth.
    14. Unz Wättr isch winti (Until the weather is windy), written by Luis Stefan Stecher like an Italian folk song, with music by by Ernst Thoma.
    15. O more duboko (Oh, deep sea), Croatian folk song, arranged by Gerald Wirth.
    16. La Paloma (The Dove), Spanish habanera by Sebastián Yradier, arranged by Gerald Wirth.
    17. Chim Chim Cher-ee from Mary Poppins (1964 film), by Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman, arranged by Christi Cary Miller.
    18. What Was I Made For? from Barbie (2023 film), by Billie Eilish O’Connell and Finneas O’Connell, arranged by Jennifer Lucy Cook.
    19. Under the Sea from The Little Mermaid (1989 film), by Alan Menken and Howard Ashman, arranged by Kirby Shaw.
    20. For ever, Polka schnell, Op. 193 (Forever, Fast Polka) by Josef Strauß, arranged by Gerald Wirth with English lyrics by Tina Breckwoldt.
    21. An der schönen blauen Donau, Op. 314 (The Blue Danube), composed by Johann Strauß II, with lyrics by Franz von Gernerth (1821-1900) and arranged Gerald Wirth.
  Encore
    22. Radetzky-Marsch, Op. 228 (Radetzky March), by Johann Strauß I, arranged by Gerald Wirth.
    23. Un Elefante Se Balanceaba (An elephant swung), Spanish children counting song, probably arranged by Icochea.

Charming does not even come close to describing the show. I’d never understood the concept of “angelic voices” until now, and I found it really unfair that you can’t actually find out the names of the boys. I don’t know whether it is to protect their privacy as they are minors, but it would have been great to at least know the names of the soloists, because the powerful voices from those little bodies was amazing.

The children were organised by tone of voice, which was similar to size, with the highest voices (smallest boys) on the front left and the lowest voices (biggest kids) on the back right. They sang most of their numbers towards the stalls, but for one song they turned to the people behind them, to both sides of the organ. Highlights included any time a child sang a solo – particularly the first one during the Emperor Waltz, as people were still coming in. During another song, Icochea left the stage for another boy to direct.

Vienna Boys' Choir Madrid

The oldest boy was in charge of having the audience clap during the Radetzky March, just like in the New Year’s Concert – and he looked right at that age when teens are all knees and elbows and awkwardness, but he seemed to be extremely proud of himself (well deserved!).

The last song of the encore was a total surprise. Before it started, the director invited us to “sing along if we were familiar with it”. This unexpected performance was a Spanish counting song, Un Elefante Se Balanceaba (An elephant swung), which goes “one elephant swung on a spiderweb – as it saw it did not fall down, it went to call another elephant. Two elephants swung on a spiderweb – as they saw they did not fall down, they went to call another elephant. Three elephants…” you get the idea – not precisely a philosophical song, but way less traumatic than say Hush little baby. One of the boys walked to the front and made a sort of trunk with one of his arms as he “swung” to the music. One by one, the others joined him until the proverbial spiderweb snapped and down to the floor all the children went. It was absolutely hilarious, and adorable.

Vienna Boys' Choir Madrid

Vienna Boys' Choir Madrid singing the elephant song

It was still raining heavily when we left the auditorium. It was 13:15, so no real time to get to Expominerales before it closed between 14:00 and 16:00. Had the weather been nicer (decent, at the very least), I would have found something else to do before it re-opened. But it was still raining cats and dogs – and maybe some ice – so we just decided to call it a (half) day.

31st December 2024: A clumsy morning yielded to an unbelievable evening {Vienna, Silvesterkonzert 2024}

When we walked out of the rooms to go down and have breakfast, my parent’s alarmed face made me worried. They informed my sibling and myself that “it had snowed”. That was spooky for a second – until I ran to the window and saw that the “snow” was just a very thin layer of scattered white powder. It was safe to go out, even with my senior parents. We had breakfast and we got ready to go out.

Snow in Vienna

At some point, my family “caught” that I like Natural History museums, so they really, really thought I wanted to go to Vienna’s Natural History Museum – Naturhistorisches Museum Wien, and just wouldn’t listen to “No need, I’ve been there already, Their reasoning is that I had mentioned it before, which I actually had, to inform them that the Venus von Willendorf was there. That is where we ended up, and I was happy to oblige – the museum has rocks, meteorites, fossils and dinosaur animatronics. All right up my alley.

The museum’s oldest collection 250 years. In 1750, the Holy Roman Emperor Francis I bought what at the time was the largest collection of natural history objects at the time – around 30,000 objects. That same decade, the Emperor founded the Schönbrunn Zoo and the botanical garden, and he ordered the first scientific exhibition to be held. Upon his death, the collections were donated to the state, and the first museum according to the Enlightenment principles was founded – and soon expanded.

The museum building was also commissioned by the Emperor. It was designed by architects Gottfried Semper and Carl Hasenauer, with an identical exterior to the nearby Museum of Fine Arts. Works began in 1871, and the institution officially opened in 1889. Though it was indeed originally designed as a museum, it feels more like a repurposed palace, with decorated ceilings and monumental staircases. It has 39 halls with almost 9,000 square metres of exhibits, still keeping the 19th century outline. We just did halls 1 to 13: mineralogy, petrography, meteorites, palaeontology and prehistory galleries, including the Venus von Willendorf. The 11-centimetre figurine was made in limestone around back to 30,000 years ago. It is a nude woman of large proportions, and even if she does not have a face, she is mostly anatomically correct and has plaited hair.

My family was fascinated by the collections, and I guess I felt a teeny bit smug about that – considering how much fun they poke at me because natural history museums are very high on my priorities when I visit a new place (see: my first time in Brussels).

Natural History Museum Vienna

Natural History Museum Vienna

We left the museum after a couple of hours, around noon. We did not stay at the Silvestermarket at the square, but headed out towards the Imperial Butterfly House Schmetterlinghaus. It comprises half of an Art Nouveau greenhouse turned tropical botanical garden and butterfly zoo of sorts. I really love the iron-and-glass architecture of the building – and I would have loved to have had lunch in the brasserie that fills the other half of the greenhouse. The building was designed by architect Friedrich Ohmann and erected in 1901 as part of the Hofburg Palace and is, next to the Burggarten palace.

Most of the butterflies we saw, if not all, were forest giant owls Caligo eurilochus, very large butterflies originating from the Americas – they can live from Mexico to the Amazon basin. They have marks like big eyes in its back wings (hence the commmon name), and the inner wings are blue. They are pretty, and they seem to like fruit, as they gathered around the feeders to snack on it. The sad part is that they only live around 24 days.

Schmetterlinghaus

We then headed to the restaurant Centimeter, near the Rathouse (town hall) to have lunch. It is a place that has a lot of things measured – you can order sausages by the metre. I was somehow was not feeling hungry, so I decided to get Gebackener Emmentaler mit Sauce Tartare und Preiselbeeren, breaded and baked Emmental cheese with tartare sauce and cranberries. After lunch, we expected the Silvestermarket next to the Rathaus to be open, as it was one of the places to be for New Year’s Eve. We were wrong! That was a bummer, because in hindsight we could have cancelled the reservation and just stayed at the market in front of the Natural History Museum. That was a bummer, but at least we were warm.

Gebackener Emmentaler

We headed back towards the hotel, and we stopped by the supermarket next door to buy something for dinner. I grabbed myself some pre-emptive sushi, because I was pretty sure that my family was not going to find what they wanted – basically stuff like they would get at home. After half an hour of going back and forth, they decided to settle down with sandwiches and more sushi. We also picked up some chocolate thingies that would end up being more coconut than anything else. Not that I have anything against coconut, but I do not appreciate it replacing chocolate unannounced.

We took the groceries to the hotel, and had a bit of downtime before got ready for the main event. During that time, I went on the online airline webpage to make sure that the travel agent at El Corte Inglés had checked us in. The check-in was done, but someone had made a typo on my parent’s email address so we had not received the boarding passes. I retrieved them and downloaded onto my phone to distribute later.

A bit past 18:00, we left for the Wiener Musikverein, the Viennese Music Association, home to the Vienna Philharmonic Wiener Philharmoniker, where we would attend the 2024 Silvesterkonzert. It was a bit strange to head to such an event using the underground, but that was the most efficient means of transport, to be honest. We ran into the Spanish lady and her husband again – and that was great because that way we could take pictures of each other without having to get a stranger to do so.

Vienna Musikverein

The Musikverein was designed to resemble an Ancient Greek Temple in a Neoclassical style, following plans by architect Theophil Hansen. The building was inaugurated in 1870, and it has a small decorated entrance, very underwhelming staircases, a small chamber music hall, and the main music hall, the Großer Musikvereinssaal or Golden Hall. Walking in there was… surreal. It’s a hall I’d seen so often on TV, and it actually felt… I don’t know, a bit… pale. Less bright than on the screen. Maybe it was that the flowers were white and pink, so they did not pop. And it’s not like I know anything about flowers, anyway. I was just happy they were artificial enough not to trigger my allergies, it would have been awkward to sneeze all throughout the concert…

Vienna Musikverein Golden Hall

Though the “New Year Concert” is the one that everyone knows, there are actually three concerts with the same set list – the Preview Voraufführung on the 30th, the Silvesterconcert Silvesterkonzert on the 31st, and the New Year’s Concert Neujahrskonzert on the 1st. I honestly would have thought that it would be full of wealthy people and they would be all cool as cucumbers, but it turns out, a whole bunch of us were just excited noobs taking pictures of every and anything. My family’s seats were on the second floor balcony. I just couldn’t believe everything that was going around around me, nor where I was. I bought the programme, because I really wanted something physical from the soirée, aside from the ticket.

The Vienna Philharmonic was founded in 1842. It is formed by the best musicians from the Vienna State Opera. It is actually run by the musicians themselves. Every year, a conductor is chosen to direct the concerts, and for the 2025, it was Italian Riccardo Muti. Maestro Muti was born in Naples in 1941, and studied in the Classical Lyceum. He proceeded to move onto studying Piano, then Composition and Conducting. He began his career in 1968 as the music director of the opera festival Maggio Musical Fiorentino. He conducted the New Year’s Concert in Vienna in 1993, 1997, 2000, 2004 and 2018 before this year. In 2011, the Philharmonic awarded him Honorary Membership. He is also a bit of a troll.

The concert had two parts, including the encore:

First part:
  1. Johann Strauß I. Freiheits-Marsch, op. 226 – Freedom March
  2. Josef Strauß Dorfschwalben aus Österreich. Walzer, op. 164 – Village Swallows from Austria, waltz
  3. Johann Strauß II. Demolirer-Polka. Polka française, op. 269 – Demolition Men’s Polka, French Polka
  4. Johann Strauß II. Lagunen-Walzer, op. 411 – Of friends, Waltz
  5. Eduard Strauß Luftig und duftig. Polka schnell, op. 206 – Airy and fragrant, fast Polka

Second part:
  6. Johann Strauß II. Ouvertüre zur Operette “Der Zigeunerbaron” – Overture to the operetta “The Gypsy Baron”
  7. Johann Strauß II. Accelerationen. Walzer, op. 234 – The Acceleration, Waltz
  8. Josef Hellmesberger (Sohn) Fidele Brüder. Marsch aus der Operette “Das Veilchenmädl” – Fidel brothers. March from the operetta “The violet girl”
  9. Constanze Geiger Ferdinandus-Walzer, op. 10 [Arr. W. Dörner] Ferdinandus, Waltz
  10. Johann Strauß II. Entweder – oder! Polka schnell, op. 403 – Either … or! Fast Polka
  11. Josef Strauß Transactionen. Walzer, op. 184 – Transaction, Waltz
  12. Johann Strauß II. Annen-Polka, op. 117 – Polka Ana
  13. Johann Strauß II. Tritsch-Tratsch. Polka schnell, op. 214 – Chit-chat, fast Polka
  14. Johann Strauß II. Wein, Weib und Gesang. Walzer, op. 333 – Wine, Woman, and Song

Encore:
  15. Johann Strauß II. Die Bajadere, Polka schnell, Op. 351 – The Bajadere, fast Polka
  16. Neujahrsgruß (New Year’s Address)
  17. Johann Strauß II. An der schönen blauen Donau, Walzer, Op. 314 – The Blue Danube
  18. Johann Strauß I. Radetzky-Marsch, Op. 228 – Radetzky March

Vienna Silvesterkonzert 2024

Honestly, what can I say? It’s nothing and everything like what you watch on TV. The music was fantastic, but somehow it felt like the conductor did not do much, the orchestra did whatever they wanted, not in a bad way. They knew exactly what to do and just did it. I know next to nothing regarding classical music, but they made it feel absolutely effortless. I am not sure how much work they do on their own and how much they do with the conductor, but I can tell had Riccardo Muti a blast. At some point, when he was coming in and out, he knocked over some of the viola or bassoon’s music sheets all over – he was very apologetic about it. Also, although neither photographs or videos are not permitted (mine are totally… sneaky, you see), one of the ladies in the first row was shamelessly filming, and he winked and waved at her. Furthermore, he would just… jump during some of the polkas, which is a feat considering the man is 83 years old.

The concert always ends with Strauß’s Radetzky-Marsch, and the public is invited to clap along. Muti completely had the concertgoers in his pocket, controlling them (us) with a finger and a look. It was amazing to watch. All in all, he was absolutely… not careless but carefree. It was great to see, somewhat magical in a way.

Vienna Silvesterkonzert 2024

The concert felt much much shorter than the two and a half hours it lasted. We went down to the first floor for pictures during the intermission, and we were not the only ones. However, I think we kind of… snuck past the intern or something, not sure we were supposed to be allowed on that floor. People were having champagne but I only cared about seeing everything. I might be a bit… weird. I make no apologies. I really loved the experience. They say it is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but to be honest, I would just try the lottery every year from now on. I mean, I now have the right clothing for it…

After the concert, we went back to the hotel where we had our dinner. To be completely fair, there was a part of me that would have totally wanted to go out to watch fireworks and Vienna’s way to celebrate the New Year – and then be an absolute wuss, freeze my butt off and need to come back to the hotel. But the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, and since I did not get to see it… It must have been the most interesting thing ever! It’s okay though, because I got to see the concert, and it was already my once in a lifetime most interesting thing ever… But it took me hours to get to sleep, so maybe I could have explored some, because in the end I’m greedy and I want it all.

16th October 2024: San Francisco Ballet’s Swan Lake at Teatro Real (Madrid, Spain)

While heavy metal and hard rock concerts are my form of meditation, there is something magical about ballet in general and Swan Lake in particular. Also, in my defence, I’ve loved Swan Lake since before I first saw Yoshiki play part of it on piano. Swan Lake is a three-act ballet written by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky in 1876. The story is widely known – Evil sorcerer Von Rothbart curses princess Odette to live as a swan during the day and only return to her human self at night. Nearby, prince Siegfried is trying to avoid all his obligations, and goes hunting. The two meet and fall in love, and Siegfried invites Odette to a ball where he will propose and both will live happily ever after since obviously love is stronger than black magic. Except, at the ball Von Rothbart shows up with another lady, Odile, the black swan, who seduces Siegfried, and he proposes to her, thinking she is Odette. Drama ensues. Siegfried realises that he has the wrong girl, and runs to the lake where he first met Odette.

Now, depending on the version, after Siegfried and Rothbart fight, the ending can go several ways, and I’ve seen a few. There is a standard happy ending – true love conquers all, Von Rothbart is defeated, and Siegfried and Odette get their happily ever after. In another version, Odette commits suicide as Siegfried’s mistake has made the curse unbreakable. Another option is that she dies of heartbreak. Her death yields to a very epic ending image of Siegfried lifting Odette’s body into the air, and Von Rothbart is defeated by Siegfried’s grief and true love. Finally, there is the option of both Odette and Siegfried dying, and the power of their loving sacrifice defeats Von Rothbart. Note how the evil sorcerer “loses” every time. However, in the original script – which I’ve actually never seen on stage – both Siegfried and Odette drown in the lake and Von Rothbart sort of wins. I’ve always found that interesting. 

Anyway, I really enjoy watching Swan Lake and trying to anticipate which ending the choreographer has chosen. I have to admit that I’m personally partial to the ending where Odette dies of heartbreak, because while I love the ballet – and the black swan – Siegfried is an idiot and with this ending he gets to live with the knowledge that he proposed to the wrong girl.

Back in March I read that the San Francisco Ballet was taking their version of Swan Lake to Madrid. I asked my parents if they wanted to tag along and since I had not received an answer by August, I checked for tickets. Whilst Teatro Real tends to be a bit on the expensive side, it is rather easy to find an unoccupied single seat in a good location just searching a bit. I could not really afford floor seats but there was a very nice single seat on the first row of the third floor that I soon got my clutches on.

I had planned to take the train to Madrid to be there around 16:00. I wanted to go see an exhibition in the manor Palacio de Longoria, since that is the only way to enter it and last time I could not climb any of the stairs to get a good look at the skylight. Unfortunately, there were issues with the previous train, which got stuck in Atocha. My own train could not enter the station, and we were just a few metres away. It is illegal to walk on the tracks, so the train driver, of course, would not open the doors. We were stopped there for over an hour. I was sitting in the first carriage, and some people lost their nerves – they started banging on the driver’s door, and one of them even grabbed the emergency hammer and tried to break the glass on the doors. Thus, I decided to just get off the train when we finally reached Atocha and walk towards the theatre.

Swan Lake promo

I had arranged to meet with a friend for a quick coffee around 18:00 near the theatre. There is a Starbucks within the same building, and it is easy to find a sitting space. At 19:15, we said goodbyes and I entered the theatre Teatro Real and found my seat. What I was not able to find was a brochure.

San Francisco Ballet artists:
  Orchestra director: Martin West
  Odette / Odile: Wona Park
  Prince Siegfried: Wei Wang
  Von Rothbart: Jakub Groot
  Choreography: Helgi Tomasson
  Artistic Director: Tamara Rojo

The show was fantastic. Wei Wang as Siegfried had a lot of weight in the first act – sometimes a lot of his work is given to another character. In this ballet, the ballerina dances two different roles, which sometimes feel like three – First-act Odette, who is nice and falling in love with Siegfried, Odile in the second act, the Black Swan seductress, and the Last-act Odette, who is dying… Wona Park did a fantastic job with her body language in order to show both Odette and Odile.

The corps de ballet was so numerous that I actually don’t think I’ve ever seen so many swans on stage. The set-up was beautiful and the coordination was incredible. At some point there were 32 swan-dancers there. It was fantastic, and I enjoyed every second of it. The ballet lasted 2 hours 40 minutes with a twenty-five minute intermission.

During the break, I went off to find a brochure – not because I did not know the plot, but because I wanted the names of the artists. I thought that one day I needed to try the intermission dinner at Teatro Real, but since they have the “to share” dishes, I don’t think they’ll take bookings for one.

Main dancers accepting the ovation

Swan dancers accepting the ovation

Dancers accepting the ovation and musical director accepting the ovation

The show was over before 22:00, and the waters had calmed down on the train front. They were still running late, but there were no aggressively frustrated passengers on the platform nor the train. I made it home just before midnight.

21st July 2024: From the Sea to the Butterfly (Madrid, Spain)

When planning for the day, the one thing I did not count on was the heat wave. I did take into account problems with trains, but apparently a half-hour delay is a non-issue by now and not worth mentioning. I reached Madrid around 12:30, and I had a reservation at 13:00 for a themed restaurant which had caught my eye when I saw it online. It was honestly a big disappointment, though I refused to let it ruin my day.

The restaurant is called Bestial, and it is ocean-themed. The pictures were awesome, it looked super cool, and I was pretty excited to go there. However, the experience was mediocre at best – I guess solo travellers are not their target audience, and it showed. As I was mainly ignored, I could watch how the restaurant worked. The waiters got the tables mixed up a few times, and they allowed others to take pictures with cocktails that were not theirs – that was weird, and I am pretty sure that against health code. I ordered a lemonade – the best thing – a tuna tartar and a crab bao without coriander, after checking that the coriander could be taken out. The tuna was tasteless, and the bao did have taste… coriander. All in all, I was not impressed by the food, even less by the service. Between the two dishes there were about 35 minutes waiting, and after an hour I just gave up and asked for the check, which was brought in a little book… and dropped halfway, then picked up from the floor… I just paid – the meal was not cheap – and left without dessert. A pity, really, but I really did not care any more.

Restaurante Bestial by Rosi La Loca

It was ridiculously early for my 16:00 visit, but I wanted to try my luck. I had chosen that day because CaixaForum Madrid was running two exhibitions that I wanted to see – Patagonian dinosaurs (which had just opened) and The Science of Pixar (which would end soon). The exhibition centre was booked out, so I could not sneak in before my time slot, but I managed to get my most burning question answered – how on earth were they going to fit a Patagotitan inside CaixaForum? Answer: they did not. They placed it outside, which was a fun surprise!

Patagotitan skeleton in front of CaixaForum Madrid

Since I had about an hour and a half, I decided to trot over to the painting museum Museo del Prado, part of the national network of museums, which I can access with my one-year card. I thought I might be luckier and the queue to enter without a reservation would work better. Indeed, I did not have to wait indeed, and I could have a look at a few of the masterpieces the collection holds (though not take photographs) – Francisco de Goya, Joaquín Sorolla, Diego Velázquez, Esteban Murillo, Fra Angelico, Hieronymus Bosch… Of course, not all the masters, because El Prado is enormous. It is also air-conditioned, and surprisingly, not as full as I half-expected. There was a queue when I came out, so I guess it worked out well!

I walked back to CaixaForum Madrid to see the two exhibitions I had booked. It was a bit before 16:00, but this time I did not ask, and just walked into the first exhibition – “Patagonian Dinosaurs”: Dinosaurios de la Patagonia, which had very little new information, and even fewer actual fossils, but a lot of dinosaur reconstructions. Those were cool. Aside from the Patagotitan mayorum placed outside, there were full skeleton replicas of Herrerasaurus ischigualastensis, Eoabelisaurus mefi, Leonerasaurus taquetrensis, Eoraptor lunensis, Condorraptor currumili, Brachytrachelopan mesai, Amargasaurus cazaui, Tyrannotitan chubutensis, Neuquensaurus australis, Carnotaurus sastrei, Gasparinisaura cincosaltensis and Manidens condorensis. There was also a Giganotosaurus carolinii skull. As for the real thing, a femur, a shoulder plate and a forelimb of Patagotitan, some teeth and vertebrae and a few invertebrates and leaves. It was really cool, and not extremely crowded for a dinosaur exhibit in summer. It was only the third day of the exhibit, so maybe it was not that well publicised yet? Out of the new species I discovered, Amargasaurus was my favourite – with the neck spikes it looked exactly like I would have imagined a dragon.

Patagonian Dinosaurs

Patagotitan front and back legs, along with a huge shoulderblade

The other exhibition that ran at the time was “The Science of Pixar”: La Ciencia de Pixar. It felt like a nerdy companion to Mundo Pixar, focusing on the maths and the process to create a Pixar film. Unfortunately, it was bustling with kids who – understandably – just wanted to smash buttons and make things light up. The exhibition had a lot of cool machines which simulate the different steps of creating a computer-animated film – rigging, modelling, lighting, rendering… The most interesting was an analysis called “What colour is this pixel?” taking into account movement, lights, shadows… It must be amazing to be able to visit the exhibit alone and be able to play with all the computers. I did find one where you get to simulate crowds using shoals of fish (from Finding Nemo) and I played with that for a while. There were also a few life-sized models from several films, miniatures and 3D mini-sculptures.

La Ciencia de Pixar

I left the venue after browsing the shop, and I walked down towards the theatre. It was still early, and I wanted to hit a couple of shops. Actually, I wanted to go to what is commonly known as the Primark flagship shop. The building Edificio Gran Vía 32 was originally erected in the 1920s to host the first department store in Madrid, Almacenes Madrid-París. It was designed by architect Teodoro de Anasagasti and used the most modern technology and materials at the time – reinforced concrete in the avant-garde style. The whole interior is built around an octagonal lightwell with a central staircase, and today the lowest four floors have been turned into the Primark shop, which has fitted screens and lightings while keeping the previous structures and railings. The modernisation project was undertaken by architectural studio RCCyP and it took three years until the shop opened in 2015.

Interior of Edificio Gran Vía 32

I continued off towards the theatre Teatro Real. I had a bit of time and some unspent calorie budget, so I decided to splurge at Starbucks with a whipped-cream Frappe for my pre-show snack. For the same price I had awesome third floor for Carmina Burana, I had a fifth-floor-in-the-back paradise ticket now. However, it was a lone seat with a great view, so I am not going to complain. I was going to watch the opera Madama Butterfly by Italian composer Giacomo Puccini – and sometimes I think that the better the singers are, the worse time I have with this show.

Madama Butterfly Promo

The main character is Cio-cio, a name that when pronounced in Italian sounds similar to 蝶々, [Choucho], butterfly in Japanese. When she is 15 years old, in 1904, Cio-cio marries an American navy man, Pinkerton, who intends to leave her and find a ‘decent’ American wife. Cio-cio is repudiated by her whole family when she converts to Christianity for her marriage. Three years later, she is alone, almost bankrupt, the mother of Pinkerton’s child, and a marriage broker is trying to sell her off to another prospective husband. Pinkerton returns to Japan with his American wife, who agrees to raise the child, but he cannot face Cio-cio because he is a coward. She (spoiler alert) prepares their son to go with him, then commits seppuku.

And even a bigger spoiler alert, I hate Pinkerton. Viscerally. My parents tried to start me into opera way too young to understand plots, I feel, and I did not want to do anything to do with it for a long time. However, at one point I wanted to see Madama Butterfly due to it taking place in Japan – being older helps, and I slowly learnt to appreciate the musical genre. Basically, by hating on Pinkerton.

Apparently, Teatro Real is known for its alternative settings and takes on classical operas. In this case, they let go of the old Japanese cottage in order to use… a modern-ish undisclosed Asian country. There was an overpass with Chinese signage, a billboard with McDonald’s and Bailey’s spoofs in Japanese (that did not make any sense), and the traditional cottage was exchanged for a greenhouse of sorts. There is a scene in the traditional opera in which the characters fill the house with flowers. In this case, they coloured the glass panes with hand paint. It was a great show.

Cast:

  • Cio-Cio-san: Ailyn Pérez
  • Suzuki: Nino Surguladze
  • F.B. Pinkerton: Charles Castronovo
  • Sharpless: Lucas Meachem
  • Goro: Moisés Marín

Artistic team:

  • Musical conductor: Nicola Luisotti
  • Stage direction: Damiano Michieletto
  • Set design: Paolo Fantin

Madama Butterfly Teatro Real

The show finished around 22:20. I walked up Arenal Street towards Sol. While I missed my first train because some people love to take up space while walking slowly, I made it for a good connection at Atocha, and I was actually home before midnight.

6th July 2024: O fortuna! (Madrid, Spain)

A couple of days before going to London to see Kamijo, I found out that a local music non-profit was staging Carmina Burana by Carl Orff in Madrid. Buying tickets (for that, and the upcoming opera Madama Butterfly) broke havoc with my credit cards, but everything was eventually fixed – I think. It had me stressed at the beginning of that trip, but it seems to be finally fixed. Again. I did have to miss Swan Lake in London because the credit cards would not go through.

Anyway, I had my ticket and though I would have loved to spend the day out, I was too ridiculously tired to take a whole day of sightseeing. Furthermore, the place I wanted to have lunch out was not taking reservations since they broadcast sports, and there was some big match or another. Yes, I want to go somewhere that defines itself as a sports bar, but that’s a story for another day (like the time I thought I could go to a sports bar during the Olympics because “Oh, well, there’s nothing sporty going on, right?”).

I thus decided to head off with a small pre-show plan, which turned out to be a great idea. When I alighted from the train station, the streets were clear for the Pride parade – I do not think I have ever seen the area surrounding Estación de Atocha so empty. I walked towards the theatre Teatro Real, but my first stop was the underground station of Opera, home to one of the Underground museums Museos de Metro de Madrid. Unlike the others, this is only tangentially related to the underground system itself – it is an archaeological museum, hosting an ancient fountain, part of an aqueduct, and the remains of a sewer.

King Felipe II made Madrid the capital of Spain in 1561, and aside of some brief periods of strife, it remains so to the present day. That has implied a lot of changes through history – among them, the destruction of the city walls, and the construction of an aqueduct to provide the city with water. When the court moved there, the villa of Madrid was little more than a village whose population skyrocketed in a couple of years. The new city needed services as it grew.

One of these was the fountain called Caños del Peral (literally something like “Peartree faucets”). The fountain was 34 metres long and it channelled water from the stream that ran down what is now Arenal Street. It was built in local limestone, had six faucets, and it probably was the largest fountain in the area where it was built in the late 1500s – the outskirts. Ironically, today it is quite close to the centre of the city, even the middle of Spain, the so-called “Zero Kilometre” in the square Puerta del Sol.

Fountain Caños del Peral

The fountain was destroyed during the reign of José I (Joseph Bonaparte, Napoleon’s brother, who was installed as king of Spain between 1808 and 1813). Caños del Peral, along with the buildings around the square, were demolished and used to fill the gorge that until then had separated Madrid in two. And in that filled gorge it was discovered in the early 2000s during works to refurbish the underground station of Ópera. Further works uncovered the sewer from the same period, a structure that channelled black waters away from the drinking streams for sanitation.

Sewer at el Arenal

The aqueduct Viaje de Amaniel was built around 1615 century to bring clean water to the Royal Palace, and with time it also supplied other properties. The infrastructure was heavily remodelled in the 18th century, after the Royal Palace was rebuilt into its current form after the fire that destroyed the original alcázar.

Section: Viaje de Amaniel

As I was coming out from the little museum and the underground system, I noticed a display reading that the underground / train station that I needed after the show was closed “until end of service”. Which was good to know beforehand, since I had time to replan my route – the trains were a mess in the evening due to Pride, and a few stations being closed off for crowd control. I grabbed a snack at the local Starbucks and headed into the theatre.

The Royal Opera of Madrid Teatro Real opened in 1850. It was originally designed by José Manuel González-Valcárcel, though it has been widely renovated, with the latest iteration dating from 1997. It is considered the most important venue for performing and musical arts in Spain – despite having been closed for decades at a time. Curiously, the theatre has the shape of a coffin – at first, I really thought that was my imagination, but apparently it is not only real but intentional.

Teatro Real: stairs and interior

I had found really good tickets, first floor next to the Royal Booth – for the same price, I would later get a fifth / sixth floor ticket for Madama Butterfly. The repertory had been put together by Fundación Excelentia, a non-profit foundation dedicated to promote and divulge lyrical heritage and musical values.

Carmina Burana Promo

Programme:
  First part:
  1. Beethoven: Egmont. Overture: Sostenuto, ma non troppo – Allegro
  2. Beethoven: Symphony No. 8 in F major, Op. 93
  Second Part:
  3. Carl Orff: Carmina Burana

The show was conducted by Juan Pablo Valencia and interpreted by the orchestra Orquesta Clásica Santa Cecilia, the choir Sociedad Coral Excelentia de Madrid, soprano Rocío Martínez, baritone Manuel Mas and countertenor David Miranda.

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770? – 1827) is considered one of the most important figures in Western music. Born in Germany, his works bridged the classical and romantic periods in classical music. His works are amongst the most performed in the world, even though he began losing his hearing halfway through his career. He composed Egmont around 1810 for a full symphonic orchestra, and Symphony No. 8 in F major, Op. 93 in 1812. The Symphony has four movements: Allegro vivace e con brio (F major), Allegretto scherzando (B flat major), Tempo di menuetto (F major), and Allegro vivace (F major). I am not the biggest Beethoven fan, to be honest, but it was good. The conductor had a great time.

My main reason to be there was the second part of the show: Carmina Burana (Officially Carmina Burana: Cantiones profanae cantoribus et choris cantandae comitantibus instrumentis atque imaginibus magicis which translates from Latin as “Songs of Beuern: Secular songs for singers and choruses to be sung together with instruments and magical images”, quite a mouthful). German author Carl Orff (1895 – 1982) composed the cantata between 1935 and 1936. Most of the lyrics are in Latin, though there is a bit of old German and even old French. The cantata has 25 movements based on 24 Medieval poems, with the first and last movements being the same: O fortuna, which happens to be one of my favourite choir pieces ever. There is one instrumental-only piece, and all the others have vocals – for choir, soprano, baritone and countertenor.

The twenty-five movements are organised in sections, which are officially five, but divided as:

  • Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi (Fortune, empress of the world): 1. O fortuna (Oh, fortune), as I mentioned, I love this choir; 2. Fortune plango vulnera (Regret for the wounds of fortune).
  • I. Primo vere (In spring): 3. Veris leta facies (The joyous face of Spring); 4. Omnia Sol temperat (All the things are warmed by the sun); 5. Ecce gratum (Behold the welcome)
  • Uf dem anger (In the meadow): 6. Tanz (Dance), the only instrumental movement in the cantata; 7. Floret silva nobilis (The noble woods bloom); 8. Chramer, gip die varwe mir (Monger, give me a coloured paint); 9a Reie (Round dance); 9b Swaz hie gat umbe (Those who dance around); 9c Chume, chum, geselle min (Come my dear companion); 9d: Swaz hie gat umbe reprise; 10. Were diu werlt alle min (If the whole world were mine)
  • II. In taberna (In the tavern): 11. Estuans interius (Seething internally); 12. Olim lacus colueram (I once swam in lakes) – this is the piece the countertenor sang, and I am not completely sure the guy was drunk, or playing drunk. 13. Ego sum abbas (I am the abbot); 14. In taberna quando sumus (When we are in the tavern)
  • III. Cour d’amour: 15. Amor volat undique (Love flies everywhere) I have to admit that I did not love the soprano, who sang for the first time at this piece – she sang well, but too low, it was difficult to hear her at times; 16. Dies, nox et omnia (Day, night and everything); 17. Stetit puella (There stood a girl); 18. Circa mea pectora (Inside my chest). 19. Si puer cum puellula (If a boy with a girl). 20. Veni, veni, venias (Come, come, please come) – these are the same lyrics that Final Fantasy VII’s theme for Sephiroth, One-Winged Angel has, and looking at the translation, now I understand why it was never intended to be the psychotic mass-murderer theme… 21. In trutina (On the scales); 22. Tempus est iocundum (Time to jest); 23. Dulcissime (Sweetest lad)
  • Blanziflor et Helena (Blancheflour and Helen); this refers to the romance story of Blancheflour and to Helen of Troy. 24. Ave formosissima (Hail to the loveliest)
  • Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi: 25. O fortuna (Oh, fortune)

All in all, it was a great experience, and I had a privileged seat. I really enjoyed the show, as it was expected from something at the Teatro Real. The gentleman next to me slept through the first part and hummed along the second, which was weird. The soprano’s voice was too faint and she tended to sing towards the other side of the theatre, making it hard to hear her, but the baritone was good. The choir was fantastic, and the percussion musicians had a perfectly choreographed exchange of positions to play all the small parts which was really amusing to watch. Especially one who hugged the gong to quiet down the reverberations.

Artists after the Carmina Burana Show

When I came out the theatre, I headed off towards the underground system and reached the train station, which took over 20 minutes – normally, I would have just walked to Sol and take the first train there to connect faster, and stay within the same system. As Sol was closed, this was not an option. When I arrived at Atocha, the platform was almost overflowing as the trains were running with long delays. I think I took a train that should have passed through around 22:30… at 23:00. I was not sure everyone would fit in the train, to be honest. Good thing that they announced a second one for a few minutes later. I made it home past midnight, took a shower and crashed because it was hot – Spain in July. What else is new?

12th – 14th October 2023: Yoshiki Classical World Tour “REQUIEM”, London (England, Great Britain)

This was my third and last trip to London in these five crazy weeks, and it was again to see Yoshiki. Someone once told me that I love Yoshiki because he appeals to both my wild and posh sides – it is partially true, I guess. It has a lot to do with how many of his lyrics resonate with me, more deeply than I am comfortable admitting sometimes.

I don’t think I would have travelled twice so close in time for any other artist. And believe me, organising this trip was a logistics nightmare. In other circumstances I would have flown out the same day of the event, which was Friday the 13th, but I don’t think that airports in the UK have completely recovered from the Covid chaos, and there are still a bunch of issues – just the previous week to my arrival, a good number of flights were cancelled in Gatwick. Second, the 12th is a holiday where I live, and since it was a Thursday, it kickstarted a long weekend. And last but not least, the 12th is also my parent’s birthday, and they were excited for a big celebratory lunch.

Taking all this into account, I tried to coordinate everything the best I could without breaking the bank. I found the last plane leaving on Thursday the 12th, at 21:50. That gave me time to have lunch at my parents’, then drive off past 19:00 – there should not be too much traffic. I booked the parking lot – the shuttle runs every 15 minutes in the evenings. In the worst case scenario, if my flight was cancelled or too delayed, there was space to manoeuvre on Friday morning. The plane was scheduled to arrive in London Gatwick close to midnight, but I was quite sure it would be delayed, and in order to avoid late-night trains and stress, I reserved a hotel next to the airport terminal – I did not have to worry about dinner as my parents make food to feed a small army. For the following night, I found a “boutique hotel” next to the venue. I booked my return flight on Saturday the 14th in order to avoid the end-of-weekend traffic that would concentrate on Sunday.

Great plan. In the end, something happened and the celebration had to be postponed, so I spent the evening watching the clock, and checking and rechecking both the weather forecast and my luggage – finding something to wear that was nice and still weather-appropriate was difficult. I changed my mind regarding footwear about six times.

Around 19:00 on the 12th, I finally drove to the airport. Considering that the forecast was rain both at home and at London, I took boots in the end, but more comfy shoes for driving. I reached the parking lot and airport a bit earlier than expected, and I found a nice covered spot for the car – which I had to check that it was not reserved a few times. As I entered the international terminal, I was disoriented for a second – since I usually take planes before 7:00, I had not seen the shops open for a long time! It turns out there is a Duty Free just after passport control which I had not even realised before, and that threw me off track for a heartbeat or two.

I had some dinner at one of the fast food stands, and as expected, the plane was delayed. Then it needed an engineer. Then it taxied forever. And after almost two hours of delay, the two-hour-and-a-bit flight to Gatwick was cut short – we landed not even ten minutes late, so we flew the route in a little over an hour. I never knew you could step on it so bad on a plane! I went through passport control and found my hotel – just outside the North Terminal, and much closer than I had calculated. Gatwick was also crazy busy even if it was nearly midnight.

I checked in, and I was surprised that even though it was the same chain I had stayed at next to the O2 Academy Islington, the procedure was completely different. But it went without a hitch, and I was in bed within thirty minutes. I even caught some sleep. For some reason they gave me a room with a sofa-bed aside the regular one.

Leaving in the morning was a bit more complicated. After a much-needed caffeine boost at Costa Coffee, I took the inner airport shuttle from the North to the South Terminal, where the train station is. From there, I found my connection to central London. The good thing is that Gatwick trains belong to a regular line, so they do not require a special ticket, you can use the Oyster card, which I did. The shuttle and train went through awful weather, but when I reached London, rain and wind had calmed down a little. I wanted to leave my things at the hotel because of the bad weather and not to go into any museums with the backpack – just in case. The nice person doing my check in was very stressed that I might want my room – it was before 10:00 for a 15:00 hour check-in. I really just wanted them to hold my luggage. After that was successful, my next step was finding a bank that would exchange a handful of old pounds for new ones. In the end, train, underground, hotel and bank took a bit longer than I had expected and I was running a bit behind my self-imposed schedule.

My first stop was Sir John Soane’s Museum. Sir John Soane was a neoclassical architect – he worked in the remodelling of the Palace of Westminster, but his most prominent legacy is his house-museum. He bought a couple of attached houses in the centre of London, and combined them both as an architecture experiment and to host his collection of antiquities, copies, paintings, and pieces of architectural interest. There was a special Act of Parliament to establish the museum while Soane was still alive, stating that after his death the houses should be kept as they were, to avoid his son selling the collection, as some of pieces were / are worth a fortune. For reference, one of the most important artefacts hosted there is the sarcophagus of Egyptian Pharaoh Seti I (Second Dynasty). Adventurer Giovanni Battista Belzoni tried to sell the piece to the British Museum after taking it from the Valley of the Kings in Thebes. The Museum was not willing to pay what today would equate to almost £200,000, but Soane bought it in 1817 to exhibit it in the basement “sepulchral chamber”, where it still stands today.

Entry to the museum is free, but you are requested to purchase the guide for £3, which I did. The first area you visit is the lovely library, and then you step into the real treasure – the area comprised by “the dome”, “the colonnade” and “the corridors”, where literally hundreds of sculptures, friezes, amphorae, decorative pieces… pile up on one another to the point that everything is overwhelming and fantastically chaotic. Wherever you look, there is something else to notice – whether it is Apollo, a copy of the Farnese Hercules, a pegasus… Then you go down to the basement, and both the “catacombs” and the “sepulchral chamber” are equally cluttered – a pair of Chinese guardian lion-dogs, Aphrodite bathing, a Poseidon head, and of course Seti I’s alabaster sarcophagus, encased in glass, which sucks for pictures but protects it in the super-tight space.

Artefacts at Sir Soane Museum

Sarcophagus of Seti I in Sir Soane Museum

Other spaces include the kitchen – which feels strangely empty in comparison– the drawing rooms on the first floor, and the picture room on the ground floor – with some of Canaletto’s Venetian landscapes, and drawings of ancient monuments. All in all, whenever you blinked, you missed a detail. It was almost stressful, but an amazing place to visit.

Afterwards, I met up with fellow Yoshiki fans A****d and A**i, at the British Museum. They were going there first thing, and we had arranged to get together around noon, but I ran a bit late and only reached them around 12:20. Through that time, they went through the must-dos. We met at the Ancient Middle East and saw a few exhibits about the history of money, one on clocks, Roman Britain, the library… They asked me if there was anything I recommended, and we went past the Moai so I could show them one of my favourite sculptures ever – the Bodhisattva Guanyin [觀音 in Chinese], associated with compassion, in the Chinese Art Gallery. Guanyin sits with one leg up in a very relaxed and informal position compared to other Buddhist imagery, and I just adore this wooden representation.

Artefacts in the British Museum

Around 14:00, we went out for lunch. We tried an okonomiyaki place near the British Museum, but it was unfortunately full, and both my friends had had CoCo Curry the previous night. We walked into Chinatown and we found a self-proclaimed izakaya Japanese restaurant called Oita (Soho). I ordered sushi bento for £16.95, which at first felt a bit expensive, but I had forgotten British-sized servings. It was actually very proportionate size-wise, and came with complimentary miso soup. The bento (“boxed lunch”) itself comprised a small salad, seven pieces of assorted raw fish on sushi rice (tuna, salmon, butterfish, mackerel, squid, prawn and octopus – these last two were no raw, actually), four assorted nigiri (tuna, salmon, butterfish, mackerel), three salmon sashimi, two tuna sashimi, three avocado hosomaki, and some garnishing including cucumber, radish and alfalfa, along with pickled ginger and wasabi. It was really good.

Oita Soho sushi bento

The three of us separated after lunch to go to our hotels and get ready. On my way, I bought a sandwich and a bottle of water from a supermarket to have for the night, and decided to take a shower before changing into concert gear. When I reached my hotel, they showed me around, and told me my luggage was in the room – which it was not. I had to come down again to get it, which embarrassed the staff a lot. The room was posh to the max – I even had a bed with a canopy! Apparently, boutique hotels are “small hotels with a personality” that try to “tailor the experience to the customer”. For me, a hotel is just a place to sleep in, so I’m just happy with them being safe and clean. I can do without the personality, the steeper price, and the surprise extra service charge.

I reserved the hotel through Booking, and they got in touch that they wanted payment outside the page. I dislike this, but it is not unheard from. I needed to demand my payment receipt, too, because the page did not generate any. Later, they tried to charge me through Booking again (though in their “defence” this might have been a Booking issue, as it has been hacked). In the end, the image I got from them was that of an overpriced wannabe high-end hotel, but there were too many blunders to consider coming back if I can help it.

At least, the hotel fulfilled the one reason I had chosen it – it was a short walk from the Royal Albert Hall. Considering how badly I felt after the Miyavi concert a couple of weeks before, I was a bit apprehensive this was going to be too much. It was, but not in the worse sense of the word. The recital was emotionally hard on me, as I tend to connect a bit too much with Yoshiki’s music, but fortunately I did not take ill this time around.

I was deeply moved when I attended the first Yoshiki Classical concert in Paris in 2014, but this time my mind was absolutely blown. Back in May, in a moment of fanby weakness, I decided to buy RAH membership (£55) in order to get access to the presale. Despite that, I only managed a sixth-row seat to the side – Arena F – Row 6, Seat 27 (£60). These were sent by post and arrived in physical form in late July. I decided on this delivery method because even if the tickets did not arrive on time, or got lost, I still had the option of “will call” with my ID and the card used for purchase (of course, my bank decided to cancel my cards meanwhile and get me new ones, so I’ve been running around with both working and not-working cards in my wallet for the last couple of months).

Having a RAH account also meant that I was notified about a “Yoshiki meet and greet VIP package” within minutes of its release, which included an exclusive opportunity to meet Yoshiki after the concert in the 1871 Bar, a photo opportunity with Yoshiki, and a piece of merchandise for signing (£150) – I booked it as soon as the email came through, and I think I was the 10th person to buy the upgrade. These tickets were supposed to arrive by post, too, but the venue changed them to e-tickets the week before the show – when I was already antsy about them arriving – “will call” was still an option, but I was restless.

Around 18:15 I left the hotel to walk to the venue to meet A****d and A**i. The Royal Albert Hall is one of the most famous concert venues in the United Kingdom. It was world’s first domed amphitheatre, designed by two civil engineers, Francis Fowke and Henry Y.D. Scott, and inaugurated by Queen Victoria in 1871. The outer structure is built in Fareham Red brick with a mosaic frieze that represents the arts and sciences, and the roof is a glass and wrought-iron dome. It has several halls and a corridor surrounding the amphitheatre, with several bars and other hospitality offerings.

The three of us walked around and found the merch stand, which was a bit underwhelming – two short-sleeve T-shirt models, and a tote bag. I kind of regret not getting the tote now, but I felt I had already spent too much money. A****d was sitting next to me, and A**i just a couple of rows behind. However, upon being shown to the amphitheatre when doors opened around 18:45 for the 19:30 concert, my brain shortcut. Rows 1 to 5 were inexistent. My row 6 ticket was a first row ticket. I was first row for a Yoshiki concert!

Fine, to the side and with some camera equipment in between, but I was first row for a Yoshiki concert. In particular, for Yoshiki’s Yoshiki Classical 10th Anniversary World Tour with Orchestra 2023 “REQUIEM” on the 13th of October 2023.

Yoshiki Requiem Poster 2023

Most seats had a small booklet, and since mine did not, I decided to “steal” it from a still-empty seat – I’m selfish, sue me. Once my brain settled down enough to take everything in, there were two things I noticed – one, that the grand piano in the centre of the stage was not Yoshiki’s trademark glass piano, and two, that his drum set was there. This was not a huge surprise as he had hinted it during the Q&A in September that he wanted to do something with it. We passed the time looking at people come in, being impressed at how fancy some people dressed, meeting other friends, and taking photographs in front of the stage.

Inside the Royal Albert Hall

The concert / recital was intense. Most of the music played had been composed by Yoshiki himself either for his different collaborations or for X Japan. Vocals were entrusted to pop singer Beverly [ビバリー] and soprano Ai Ichihara [市原 愛]. Special guests St.Vincent and Ellie Goulding sang their own songs. The Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra was conducted by Ward Stare. Ballet dancers from Jlee Productions performed on stage during Forever Love and Swan Lake..

Setlist:

Part 1
   1. Amethyst (orchestra alone)
   2. Tears
   3. Angel
   4. Miracle with Ai Ichihara
   5. Forever Love
   6. Kiss the Sky with Beverly
   7. Anniversary
Part 2:
   8. Drum improvisation while the orchestra played Serenade for Strings (by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky) and Symphony No. 3 (by Henryk Gorecki) and Ai Ichihara on vocals
   9. Say anything
   10. Swan Lake (by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky)
   11. New York by and with St.Vincent
   12. Love me like you do by and with Ellie Goulding
   13. Red Swan with Beverly
   14. Requiem
   15. Without you
   16. OPUS 13 in A-minor (by Felix Mendelssohn)
   17. Art of Life (second and third movements)
   18. Endless Rain

Although the auditorium opened later than it was supposed to, the concert started almost punctual, a bit past 19:30 – which for Yoshiki is a miracle of ontimeness. He had probably done all his interviews the month before. Director Ward Stare came on stage and the orchestra played Amethyst as warm-up – this is the song that was usually heard at the start X Japan’s concerts, before members came in. Yoshiki walked on stage to play piano from the second song on, Tears. The tour title Requiem comes from the song Yoshiki wrote to honour his mother after she passed – he was understandably devastated, and it made sense to start the show with Tears.

Yoshiki playing piano at Royal Albert Hall

Throughout the concert, he alternated piano-playing and talking – most of the talks we had heard before, but a few were new to me. He told us that when he felt that he had managed a great achievement his mother used to bring him back to earth with questions like “have you eaten?” or “did you sleep?”. He explained that she really praised him when he composed Anniversary for former Emperor Akihito. We also had some promotion of the Under the Sky film, and Yoshiki’s champagne line, along with a recap of him being honoured in LA’s Chinese Theatre. There was also some “thank you to my sponsors” talk, and he might have said “amazing” around a thousand and three times.

The first part went more or less as expected – except for the ballet dancers. I did not think we would get them, but I am not going to complain. I did miss Hero, because I really enjoy listening to that one live, but something had to be taken out to accommodate the songs by the special guests. Some people say that he talks too much, but I think that he’s just trying to catch a breather – both physical and emotional. At one point he spoke about an “X Japan song that we would never really hear”, which was heartbreaking. There is a difference between knowing that there won’t ever be any X Japan ever again, and having it confirmed. Both in September and now, we’ve heard him openly say things that usually went only implied, which I think means that we are in a new stage of his artistic career / life.

Yoshiki Royal Albert Hall with orchestra and ballet dancers

For the second act, he pushed himself even harder with a drum solo to start off. He always smashes the drums as if he were trying to get a confession out of them – it is like he has so much anger inside him and the drums are his only way to release it. In a way, it probably is – he always says that he turned to drumming to deal with his father’s suicide, and that is how he expresses himself. But then he goes back to the piano, and it feels that the keys are crying with him.

The acts with St.Vincent and Ellie Goulding, in my opinion, were more promotional than anything else. Both are well-known and established in their own niches – and Yoshiki likes female singing voices because they can hit high notes better, I think – though I miss Katie Fitzgerald and Ashley Knight, to be honest. St.Vincent was okay, Ellie Goulding left me wondering… what she was doing there. Apparently the pinnacle of her career until now has been composing Love me like you do for the film Fifty shades of grey… And I hate to be that person, but both of them could have chosen way better outfits.

The titular song, Requiem, was extremely poignant. It was the piece Yoshiki wrote to deal with his feelings for his dead mother, in his own words, the means he found to stop crying for her loss. Just like he took to drumming after his father’s death, he took to composing after his mother passed. Later, he explained again how the song Red Swan symbolises standing up through the pain and the blood. The original version of this song is sung by vocalist Hyde, and since he was bringing in people from all around the globe, I would have been extremely happy if he had flown him in for it, and I was hopeful for about one tenth of a heartbeat. Unfortunately, you cannot have everything.

Throughout the recital there were sad moments and happy moments, to thank fans, and to remember those who are gone, moments with ballet dancers and with the torch on the phone on, moments to sing and to laugh, and to feel your heart shrink. In the end, Endless Rain with all the audience was extremely special – it never feels that it is going to be, I keep thinking “this time it’s not going to affect me this much”, but it gets me every time.

Yoshiki talking at the Royal Albert Hall

In the end, the show lasted for about three hours, plus a twenty-minute intermission. He thanked the conductor, the orchestra and dancers and the guests, and received lots of flower bouquets. Next to me, A****d managed to give him a Union Jack with a small EU flag sewn into it, which he proudly wore around his shoulders. It’s fun how he is such a huge super star and then he becomes all shy and embarrassed. Or he just… crashes.

Yoshiki with the Union Jack flag, Royal Albert Hall

After the concert was over, we said goodbye to A**i and, A****d and I made our way to the 1871 Bar, where the Post Show Meet & Greet Experience was to take place. We went to one of the doors, but of course then we needed to go to the other one. Eventually we got in, and rather quickly – I was the 20th person in the queue, and got to wait inside the bar. It was upholstered in blue, turquoise and green tones, with the most garish decoration I’ve seen in my life, including mirrors, golden wallpaper, bright plastic deer heads (better than real ones but still gaudy), lava lamps… There were about… four or five sofas, and the whole floor was carpeted in reddish and green / grey tones.

I was a bit nervous – waiting to meet an artist is actually the worst moment of queueing, I feel. To be honest, the first time I saw Yoshiki in person in 2017, my brain went 404 on me and I was not able to utter a word, though in Vienna I did a bit better and got a selfie. I was shaking so badly it came out horrible and moved.

As we were waiting, a staff member came to tell us that we could talk to Yoshiki a little, and that they would take our pictures with him and email the link to us. He explained that Yoshiki had just played a three-hour show and that he was bound to be tired – and how amazing he was. We smirked that we knew that already – most of us were not local, after all. Meanwhile, lights were set up, and signed posters brought out.

Yoshiki arriving for the M&G in the 1871 Bar at the Royal Albert Hall

Once he came in, we clapped and then everything went very fast and very slow at the same time. Everyone got to talk to him a little indeed, ask for an autograph or give him a present. Some people conjure amazing gifts for artists, but I never bring anything for them, because I feel it’s imposing and they don’t need any junk I could get them. However, I was clutching my bad selfie print-out, running through my head what to say. It was finally my turn, and then something I could have never prepared for happened – he declared that he was tired and just sat down on the floor. Not one of sofas. Yoshiki, superstar, just plopped down on the garish carpet of the bar at the Royal Albert Hall.

I have no idea how or why but my brain kicked into gear at that point. Before the staff could react in any way, I asked Yoshiki if it was all right to sit down on the carpet with him – I really did not know if he wanted to have his picture taken on the floor. I’m not sure if the staff and the aides knew what to do, but when he said it was all right, I approached and sat – A****d had stayed behind and was able to document the whole thing, apparently I sat in the proper traditional Japanese way for the conversation.

I thanked him for his music, and told him how his lyrics helped me feel better after a bad situation. Then I asked him to sign the “horrible selfie” – I actually said this – from Vienna. He thanked me for coming back, and I said “no, thank you for coming back”. The whole thing was absolutely surreal. There we were, sitting on the carpet of the Royal Albert Hall, surrounded by dumbfounded staff and… sofas. Photographer Andy Paradise took our picture, and what I saw when I looked at the camera was the photographer crouching, the video-camera person kneeling, someone else also crouching down, and a fourth person coming in with a chair (despite… sofas). I said thank you again, and dragged myself away – the guy whose turn it was behind me also sat down on the floor.

A****d and I got our signed posters, while I clutched to my now autographed bad Vienna selfie, and left the venue. Some people asked questions on the way out, and we explained how it went. When we came out, it was cold, so damn cold. My hotel was a block over, so I asked reception to order a taxi for A****d, and we parted ways, hoping to see each other soon.

I went up to my room to take my third shower of the day, and have my snack. I was so overwhelmed, it was hard to sleep. It was also stupidly cold because unbeknownst to me, I had not closed the window well, and there was an open crack. I burrowed under the bed covers, a towel and a bathrobe, and got some rest.

The next morning, I made myself a hot instant coffee to start off the day, but it did not do much to get my blood pressure up. I vacated the room around 9:00 after asking the hotel to keep my luggage – but considering what had happened the previous day, I made sure I had all the important things with me. I had a nice plan for the day, but I decided to discard it last minute because underground disruptions had escalated – it was not worth it to get stressed due to commuting issues having alternative things to do. Seeing the first red phone cabin will have to wait for another time.

It was still extremely cold when I stepped out. First, I went to see the Albert Memorial in Kensington Gardens, and I crossed to Hyde Park. I also found the Monument to Livingstone. I went around the Royal Albert Hall, and a bit before 10:00, I joined the queue to enter the Victoria and Albert Museum. Whenever I am in Kensington, I always get distracted by the Natural History Museum, so I had forfeited the V&A for a while now. Today was the day to finally explore it.

The Albert Memorial

Royal Albert Hall from the outside

Founded in 1852, the V&A is one of the largest museums in the world – it’s actually the largest museum of applied arts, decorative arts and design. It covers 51,000 square metres, with 145 galleries and almost three million individual items in its permanent collection. It is a chaotic museum, and yet, it makes sense. The museum is organised by “themes” such as Buddhism, England Middle Ages, metalwork, porcelain, glass, Baroque sculpture… I tried to see things in some kind of logical order, but it was pretty much impossible. Apparently they tried to rearrange it a while back and they just… gave up, as it would diffuse expert knowledge. I found this very interesting, but since this was my plan B, I did not really have time to plan the visit very thoroughly.

Before diving into the galleries, I headed over to the museum café for a gigantic tea-infused scone with jam and proper clotted cream, and a mug of coffee, and sat down at the Gamble Room. When it opened in 1868, it was the first museum café in the world. It is decorated with tiles imitating the Italian Renaissance majolica tiles, columns, golden ceilings, and weirdly modern lamps. After breakfast, I felt a bit more grounded, though I felt a bit off all day.

Scone and coffee at the Gambler Room in the V&A museum

I roamed around the museum for a few hours, and I know that I missed some important areas. I found it difficult to keep track of where I was and where I wanted to go, but I got a bit of a taste of all. I was very impressed by the Cast Courts, where copies of some of the most iconic pieces of architecture and sculpture are kept. These were made in the 19th century, and represent “the truest spirit of the Victorian museum.”

Artefacts at the Victoria and Albert Museum

On the ground floor, I wandered the Korea, Japan, China and Buddhism galleries, and I came across another depiction of Bodhisattva Guanyin, in the same pose but a completely different artistic style. I saw the largest Middle East and Islamic Art collection in Europe, and the adjacent galleries –South Asia (especially India) and South East Asia had a lot of interesting artefacts, too. The sculpture galleries are tantalising.

Other areas I visited included Medieval and Renaissance, Britain though history, ironwork, metalware, gold, silver, ceramics, glassware, jewellery, stained glass, architecture, and I could have gone on and on. But alas, I had a plane to catch.

Artefacts at the Victoria and Albert Museum

Victoria & Albert Museum

Around 13:00, I left the museum, collected my luggage, and made my way to South Kensington Station amidst the Tube closures of the lines that would take me directly to Victoria. A while back, I had to take a similar alternative route from Earl’s Court due to the wires overheating when I was going to the Apollo Victoria Theatre to watch Wicked. The South Kensington station runs the same Tube lines, so I was able to reach Victoria railroad station at the desired time – even with a line change and more than double stops. I was off towards Gatwick airport on the expected train.

Once there, I went through security without a hitch. I had a snack in the most expensive and unfriendly Wagamama in history – give me Stansted’s Itsu anytime. I wanted something warm because my body gets weird after emotional highs, and I was freezing. I even wondered if I was taking ill again, but no. I was just cold. I did not let either the restaurant nor the chill spoil my mood though, and I might even have had a nap on the plane. By the time I got off, I had warmed up. I cleared passport control, found my shuttle to the parking lot and – aside from the inevitable idiot on the road – there was not even that much traffic, which is good. You know the routine – shower, snack, bed.

I was not ill in the end, just stupidly exhausted. Going back to normal was quite difficult, especially as I still had Sunday free. I did not ever dare look at my phone to see if the photographs were real. A few days later, on the 18th, we received the email with the meet & greet professional photos. I look ridiculously happy, sitting on the carpet ,with a sofa behind me, with who is probably my favourite artist. I feel a bit guilty that I burdened him with my problems – I really hope he forgot quickly. Nevertheless, I am mostly glad that I was able to take these three crazy trips to London without incident. I feel extremely lucky that all three of them worked out, if not flawlessly, without any huge mishap. There is actually another Yoshiki event announced for December, but as much as I would love to go, it is just not in the budget, and I am a bit sad about that. But then I think “I sat with Yoshiki on the carpet of the Royal Albert Hall” and smile.

31st May 2023: Birthday in Madrid (Spain)

I was lucky enough to be able to combine my 2022 birthday with a holiday that happens around the end of May / beginning of June, so I took off to Tenerife. I could not do that this year, but the stars aligned for a half-day in Madrid – actually, what aligned was a lot of website-hopping, to be honest. It all started when we were booking tickets for the visit to the Royal Palace of La Granja. At that time, I discovered that the collection of Stradivarius instruments in the Madrid Royal Palace are brought out so they can be played every now and then. I had to work on the dates of all the upcoming 2023 concerts where they were used, but I managed to secure tickets for a side gig, which also gave access to a usually closed-off area of the Palace anyway.

Conversely, I have been obsessed with a London experience in which you get to have afternoon tea on a 60’s double-decker bus – but unfortunately, it does not take reservations for one. I was browsing the Internet , looking at similar experiences, and I stumbled upn the fact that the Mandarin Oriental Ritz runs afternoon tea in Madrid. They actually claim that their tea is the same as the London Hyde Park Ritz. I signed up for the Fan of M.O program – not that I’m ever going to be able to afford a stay there, but oh well – before making the reservation, and the system asked if there was a special occasion going on. I ticked “birthday”.

Plans thus built, we arrived in Madrid for the 16:00 booking of afternoon tea at the Palm Court restaurant in the Mandarin Oriental Ritz Madrid hotel.

The Mandarin Oriental Ritz Madrid opened in 1910, after King Alfonso XIII decided that Madrid needed a luxury hotel to host European nobility. The king himself became an investor, wanting the city to have lodgings comparable to Paris or London. The building was commissioned to French architect Charles Frédéric Mewes and the construction was directed by Luis de Landecho y Lorenzo Gallego. Surrounded by a metalwork wall, it has 153 rooms and suites, and a wide variety of dining options with different levels of formality.

Through the 20th century, the original Ritz became a piece of history. Its rooms and bars hosted a wide range of personalities – WWI spy Mata Hari, artist Salvador Dalí, writer Ernest Hemingway, scientist Alexander Fleming, and more recent celebrities such as Ava Gardner, Michelle Pfeiffer or Madonna. In 2015, the hotel was acquired by Mandarin Oriental, and in 2018 renovation was tackled. The Covid pandemic delayed its reopening until 2021. Part of the restoration focused on the inner court, with an iron-and-glass ceiling. This is the area where the restaurant Palm Court is located.

When we arrived, they confused my reservation with someone else’s with the same first name – I had to correct the lady, it was a reservation for three not for two. Then they asked if we were celebrating something, to which I replied that it was my birthday – again. As we sat down, the pianist was playing the OST of Aquaman. Cognitive dissonance? Check.

A nice gentleman brought out the tea menu – while the food is fixed, you can choose from a wide variety of tea. I had of course studied the options beforehand, and ordered sencha meicha, because it is one of my favourite teas, even if it is Japanese. I mean, I can get Earl Grey more easily – and affordably.

The booking confusion continued when we got our food – once more they brought out a three-tier tray for two, and when they brought out the third one, they had mistakenly brought out one of the dietary-restriction trays – easy to spot because the sandwiches had different colours. When the correct tray was brought out, the order of the different tiers was incorrect.

The tea itself was delicious. The food included has been designed to Quique Dacosta, mixing the “best afternoon tea tradition” with Spanish confectioneries. The classic mini sandwiches included a cucumber and cheese cream, Spanish ham, potato omelette, seafood and mayonnaise, and a salmon cracker, shaped as a rose. The sweets included chocolate mousses, lilac sponges and citrus pastries.

Afterwards came the scones, which were a bit too small and I was slightly disappointed that the promised clotted cream was merely butter. But the scones – two types of them – were warm and well done. Afterwards, as we were finished, the pianist played the notes to the traditional happy birthday song and I was brought a small mousse with “congrats” written on the plate – though they served it to someone else in the party!

Afternoon Tea: sandwiches, pastries, scones and the actual tea

Felicidades dessert

I loved the tea party. However, even if all the staff was extremely nice, it gave me the feeling that they were overwhelmed and nervous – almost improvising – as they made a few mistakes. Afterwards, we walked to the Royal Palace Palacio Real de Madrid. Even if it was an hour to the recital, we were allowed into the courtyard, and not much later into the royal chapel Real Capilla. The recital was called Afectos Amantes (Loving affections), and it mostly comprised music by José de Torres. Torres was the main composer of religious music for the Spanish 17th-century court, though the majority of his music was lost when the original Madrid alcazar burnt down – however, a few pieces were preserved in El Escorial, Salamanca, and Guatemala. There were also a couple of pieces by Händel.

Royal Palace and Chapel

The music was performed by Al Ayre Español, a classically-trained ensemble that focuses on Spanish Baroque Music. Its members are Eduardo López Banzo, (harpsichord, and director); Jacobo Díaz Giráldez (oboe); Alexis Aguado (violin); Kepa Arteche (violin); Aldo Mata (cello); Xisco Aguiló (double bass); Juan Carlos de Mulder (archilaúd and guitar); and finally Maite Beaumont (mezzo-soprano singer).

The program included:

  1. Pasacalles I & II (Passacaglia), Anonymous
  2. Divino Hijo de Adán (Divine Son of Adam), José de Torres
  3. Sonata Op.5 No.4 in G Major, Georg Friedrich Händel
  4. ¡Oh, quien pudiera alcanzar! (Whomever could reach), José de Torres
  5. Sonata Op.5 No.5 in G Minor, Georg Friedrich Händel
  6. Afectos amantes (Loving affections), José de Torres
  7. Grave (Low), José de Torres

Al Ayre Español bowing to the audience after the recital

The recital lasted a bit over an hour and a half. It was something really interesting to do once in your lifetime, and surprisingly not pricey at all. Even if Baroque music is not usually my thing, the event felt very appropriate in the chapel. We did not feel like any more food, so we just headed home, braving the thunderstom on the highway.