So this weekend I went on choir tour, as visible by my last post. (I was able to get my dress, thanks to the kindness and coordination of my friends and roommate. People wonder why I often take so long to pack from one place and travel to another - now I can say, 'LAST TIME I DIDN'T DO A SECOND SWEEP I DIDN'T BRING MY UNIFORM ON CHOIR TOUR.')
But this post is not about my uniform woes; this post includes stuff about Christopher Smart, who was locked in an insane asylum because of his religious mania and wrote poetry about his cat. I would go mad, too, if my primary job only paid one pound a year. (that's bad, even by 1700s standards). Though his spending habits no doubt had something to do with it, I feel like the whole one-pound-a-year thing might have been a contributing factor.
One of the poems he wrote was called Jubilate Ango, which was translated back to English from Latin and put to music by Benjamin Britten. What's really interesting about this piece is that it changes mood so often. There are a few happy solos about cats and mice and flowers, and then there's a slow, epic, dramatic bit about how he is under the same accusation as Christ. All of this happens within about three minutes.
Anyhow, because I lost sleep last night, I'm keeping this short. Will post on Friday.
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