Aleatoric Iggle Piggle

Hmm. Both hands
Originally uploaded by goforchris.

There's something wonderful about watching discovery happen. Catriona, who's just two, realised at the weekend that her grandad could play Iggle Piggle's tune (if you don't know, you've not been around young children recently) on the piano. She instantly recognised the tune and wanted to join in. After a few solo explorations of the keyboard came the joyous moment of the duet - Grandad playing around her tiny hands, while Catriona picked out notes for herself.

Actually the result was slightly unsettling, like the sound-track to a Hitchcock movie or The Turn of the Screw - the jaunty, familiar melody juxtaposed with the sudden sourness of dissonance. But she was enthralled.

Another great moment was inspired by the finale of the Cowal Games, as we watched the bands march down Argyll Street, each playing their own tunes. Catriona found the pipes too loud (they are, actually) but loved the drums. (I think her father has got to her). When she came home afterwards, she had the gallus walk of the tenor drummer to a T - and the hand movements as she drummed away at the air, laughing like a mad thing.

I guess I'll have to wait for the outcome: the grand piano on stage, or the draggled march behind the pipers ...

Music hath charms ...

Shall we go out now?
Originally uploaded by goforchris.

It is completely fascinating to watch the development of a young child. Our grandchild, at 10 months, is showing among other things (like... climbing skills, like 'satiable curtiosity*, like ...) an extraordinarily marked reaction to music. We've watched her bopping to Mozart's Turkish Rondo on one of her fave toys, we've seen her move in time to the complex rhythms of her dad's latin american tracks, and she's now completely fascinated by her grandpa's piano-playing, adjusting her rhythmic movements to accommodate quavers or big, important tunes.

This morning we tuned in to the middle of a quiet, still, contemporary setting of the text "Viri Galileai" on the radio. Catriona had been crawling with early-morning energy round the wooden floor, but she immediately stopped, sat stock still, then swayed gently to the flowing movement of the piece. When it drew to its pianissimo conclusion, she breathed deeply and looked up.

It's magic. In fact, I think I need to take up playing my violin again...

*There's a wee literary reference here. Anyone?