O fortuna | moshpit tuna

I got to attend one more Carmina Burana! Every year, there are some crowdpleasers on the symphony rota,  and the Carmina Burana is one of them, and the crowd in me is pleased by this annual treat.

It was a full audience.

I wrote feedback, as I did in years past, that they should make a mosh pit of the loge seats and let us head-bang for fortune’s caprices!  I imagine they will ignore my note again.

I remember a lovely discussion I once had with a friend about tuna, about roasting swans being replaced by tuna. Why was it not salmon? I cannot recall. We may have been drunk. Most likely. Tuna is not in my usual conversational oeuvre. O fortuna can get me into tuna though. It can get me into goth chic even: black nails, motorbikes, leather jackets and spiky boots.

Apart from the lack of moshing, it was all wonderful! The performance was capped off by the storm in the city, and the fog that spread itself over thick and low so that visibility was guaranteed non-existent. We missed the hail and the thunder. There is always next time, though.

I have been lucky to see it at different symphony houses over the years, performed by different orchestras. My favorite still is the London Philharmonic, but I liked today’s as well, for the performance it was, and for the many lovely memories it evoked. It was like comfort food after a rough day, and I am comforted, and full of joy, and very grateful that I could go today.

Some of the translations from Latin to English of the text seemed toned down. I have to take a look again in the morning. I could be wrong, since I only glimpsed at it a couple of times. I have seen it happen before, though, and it saddened me. I don’t like mistranslating words to spare the prudish.

Now there is the rain outside, and I am humming veni, veni, venias! There is tea here, and Adam Tooze’s Wages of Destruction. Goodnight!