Maestro Vanden Plas

The penultimate episode of Maestro tonight... wonderful telly again. I believe that the contestants are being eliminated in exactly the right order, which is something that rarely happens in these things and is almost certainly down to the fact that the public do not have a say. Sadly it seems that the public get to vote in the grand final, which may mean the wrong winner is picked, rather than leaving it to the people who know best, the orchestra.

(I always disagree with the popular view on just about everything, even the meaning of a novel, so I feel I can state such a thing).

Tonight was opera, not a like of mine, and was less enjoyable as a result of not personally liking the music. Except for the Mozart of course, I adore Mozart. I have no idea what the piece was, I am not familiar with most of Mozart's work, I just know I like it. I feel I should like something less... mainstream? popular? but just about any time I am drawn to a piece of music, it is by he. The same happens with Monet's paintings; I am truly unsophisticated even if I do try.

Aside from that, the show was still extremely watchable, not least because Katie Derham said a dirty word! Three times! Not prissy after all! Zoe Martlew, a panellist and cellist/composer, is quite probably the most patronising person I have ever seen, coming across somewhat like a school monitor, overpleased with the importance of her position. How Jane Asher hasn't thumped her is credit indeed to Ms Asher.

The title of this post is a nod in remembrance to my father's Maestro Vanden Plas, the greatest car that ever drove. Or so he thought.