Here's an interesting snippet which I heard on the radio (ABC Classic FM for the chronically curious) the other day: Russian pianist Tatiana Nikolayeva died in the middle of a performance of Shostakovich's Preludes and Fugues. I can't help thinking that that would be rather disturbing for all concerned. While the piece is most appropriate (Shostakovich wrote the Preludes and Fugues specially for her) - and the radio announcers were talking about it probably being the way she'd have wanted to go - it seems to me that such a consummate musician would probably have preferred to go after completing the performance. Just a thought. I personally dread the thought that when the time comes I might pop my clogs before finishing whatever piece I'm working on - I know it's happened before; there's grand precedent - Mozart, Schubert, Elgar to start with - but it feels so untidy.

Yesterday was a bit of a red-letter day for me - my very first Valentine's Day flowers! Amazing how good it makes one feel. And here they are in all their glorious colour (sorry - couldn't resist documenting this!):

Valentine's Day roses, 15-Feb-2005