Tuesday, 26 November 2013

Movement One

I am standing at West Worthing station in the freezing cold. I neglected to bring a coat or scarf with me to East Sussex because I had no idea it could be this cold!

I've been with PK all day today, editing together the first movement of the Pepys Motet, which is very much sponsored by Melodyne (the software which can correct the odd rogue note!) It would be impossible to do something this intricate, fragile, complicated and a'capella without the aid of some kind of tuning device. It very much suits the style of the work, which sits in the bizarre space between classical, pop and electronica, and needs to have a clean, precise sound, which can be manipulated at will.

I'm very pleased with the way things are going. The first movement is the mystical one; filled with the sounds of snow and hollow wind. It sets up the world of Pepys' Diary, which was very much a product of the excitement and panic which followed the interregnum. Would Charles II return to England and accept the throne? Was Oliver Cromwell's son a lunatic?! And what of the year of the devil, 1666? Surely nothing untoward would happen to London during this, most anticipated, date?

We're very much on schedule. My target today was to get half way through the editing process for the first movement. I'd like to have gone slightly faster, if for no other reason than to give PK an evening off, but we're being thorough and that's important.

Heavens! The train's been delayed, and my fingers have turned into blocks of ice. I can barely type into my phone!

Whilst waiting for the West Worthing train at Hove this morning, a train pulled into the West-born platform, heading East to Brighton. I rushed over to the guard to ask whether I'd got confused and was standing on the wrong platform without realising. "No, sir," he said (very politely), "Hove Station is completely reversible." I found this quite an interesting fact and a rather peculiar concept, but instead of nodding my head and saying "how interesting," I pulled a ridiculously camp face and said,  "ooh, get You!"  He plainly had no idea what to say to that. I had no idea how to continue the conversation, so wondered off, mortified.

Interesting though, that a station can be reversible. I can't imagine how that works.

The train has now arrived, but it's a slow train to Hove. That said, it could well take that long simply to warm up! I am not used to being this cold. What is wrong with me, please?

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