September 26, 2013

Ah, my beloved Urca! I have promised to take the Americans to see something of Rio other than festival venues. Now one is missing, and time is missing, but I take R. for a quick tour of Urca. The colorful quietness of this barrio is so welcome after days of the high noise of centro. The rest of the day is spent in the audince for presentations of student research and more recitals. Although I do know much of the information already, the presenters do a good job. And my friend Fernando’s presentation on 12-tone music for mandolin and his ideas for writing based on the placement of notes on the fingerboard, and the use of tablature to help non-mandolinist composers write more idiomatically for our instrument is fascinating. But after deciphering portugues and Spanish for 3 lectures, and 3 recitals, following a late night, my head begins to ache and I beg off the final jam session, eat dinner– with vegetables and actually sitting down– and head back to the hotel. I skype with a friend, find a simple American movie on TV, settle in with a beer and peanuts from in-room frig, and toast the end of a great festival.