Blast from the past

DGS Wind Band 1989
Originally uploaded by goforchris.

This has to be a record for me - I put this photo on flickr this morning and already it's had 93 hits: a tribute to the power of tagging?* It's a bit extraordinary how time passes; this feels like a foray into another era on the one hand, aided by the terrible quality of photo reproduction in the local paper at the time ( I'm happy to say this is hugely improved), while on the other I can recall it so well that it could have been only last year.

Life is, in fact, incredibly short - a brief candle indeed.

Note: The band members look incredibly well-dressed; they were in fact more uniform-conscious than many of their contemporaries outwith the band.
*No. It's the power of Twitter, actually.

Sweltering and swine flu

Well, well. Or, if you like: ill, ill. Swine flu has arrived in Dunoon, not in single spies but in battalions. Ok. I exaggerate. 18 Dunoonites do not a battalion make. But it's a fact that Dunoon hit the ten o'clock news tonight in a way it hasn't since the American navy left. It looked lovely, actually - nice shot of Kirn under a Mediterranean sky, the Western Ferry ploughing bravely across bringing reinforcements for the Royal Bank so that it could open again. I was interested to realise the subconscious calculations going on - that queue outside the surgery when I passed this morning: were they ill, or frightened - and did I pass too close to any of them? Shall I do my shopping in Edinburgh this week instead of the over-crowded Co-op in Dunoon? (our other supermarket is closed for renovation)... and so on. And of course there's the hypochondria: is my throat sore? or is it simply hayfever? (the Met Office man with the whimsical manner said the pollen count was affecting him ...)

But actually the weather is too good to worry for long. It's hard to feel threatened when you can spend the afternoon sitting on one of the world's most wonderful beaches, paddling in warm sea as it slides over the hot sand, then exploring a hitherto unknown track and finding the beautiful bay in the photo. The car thermometer - sitting in the sun - read 31º at 6.20pm, and even in the shade it was 23º by the time we were home again. The promised cold air is going to feel arctic on the sunburn, but the S3 pupils who were sent home for a week to prevent the spread of infection have certainly chosen a good time for it.

Except that now they're spreading themselves over Dunoon ......

Out of the frying pan?

Having escaped from the horrors of the new Dunoon Grammar School, we found ourselves this evening rehearsing in the building which is possibly one of the best small concert halls in the West of Scotland - Kirn Church Centre. We felt better, we sang better, we sounded better. And yet we discover that this building too is about to disappear, thanks to dry rot, high maintenance costs and dwindling numbers of people prepared to spend the necessary cash on such places. We could feel jinxed - but no. We'll just hope the weather treats the building kindly so that we are not ejected prematurely.

And now I'm off again for a few days - missing this year's
Teach Meet
by an oversight. I hope it goes well, and that there will be interesting blogging to catch up on. To anyone who feels it's my turn to buy them a drink - it'll have to wait till next time!

Abigwoffeldoon....

This photo, originally sent to me by Duffy while I queued at Passport Control in Stansted Airport, shows the final moments of my last classroom in Dunoon Grammar School. if you look very, very carefully you may see a scrap or two of the yellow paint I chose to brighten up a north-facing room - a colour scheme which the painters loathed because they were sick of it by the time they'd done, but which the classes loved because it made them feel cheery in the middle of winter. The business end of the big digger thingy is resting where my bookcase sat. Quite moving, really ...

And because the old school (well - this bit went up in the last 25 years) is being demolished, our choir is moving too. After last week's horrendous practice in the new school building, with the sound of the pipes vying with our attempts to sing in tune even as we succumbed to various allergies, we've found another venue for our rehearsals. Apparently we may have to move on from there too, as the building has dry rot and other horrors, but for the meantime we're content.

I just hope that some of my teaching was less flimsy than my room.

I hope some of you get the literary allusion in the title of this post. Do tell me!

Travel Lodge classroom?

Paid my first visit to the new Dunoon Grammar School last night. Choir practice night. We've had one rehearsal so far this term, but we had that one in Holy Trinity church - an airy space, to put it politely, with a great acoustic and only the twilight birds to disturb us. The school music department ticks none of these boxes. The moment the automatic doors opened to admit us, before we'd even spoken to the polite (and new) security guard, we knew we were doomed.

DGS is a piping school. It has a proud tradition of excellence in piping, and like every excellent band they rehearse. They were rehearsing last night. This never used to matter, as they practised in another building on the school site. Now they're in with the rest of music. What would a sensible school designer do? Do I hear a small voice muttering about soundproofing? Whoever put this one-size-fits all building together obviously paid no heed to the voice of the former PT Music (who happens to be Mr B) when he raised the need for soundproofing in the department, and the pipes sounded out loud and clear no matter how many doors we closed.

Because the piping tutor is a seriously decent spud, a compromise was reached. We shut ourselves in the room with the grand piano and got on with it, trying to ignore the now more distant pipes (remember that poem about the pipes at Lucknow?) But we couldn't ignore the glaring lights bouncing off the white walls, the fitted carpet which deadened every note we sang, the heat and the claustrophobia-inducing low ceiling. The room was at least half the size of the one we had used previously (now demolished) and the whole experience was stressful and unsatisfying.

So what makes a good classroom? I know music rooms have their own peculiar needs, and I know too that at least one former colleague is enjoying her modern languages classroom (though I suspect this has much to do with the fact that it faces north and she no longer has to fry in the heat of her old, south-facing room). But if I were still teaching, I'd be looking for an airy space with controllable heating, adequate windows which I could open, glare-free lighting as close to natural light as possible and a walk-in cupboard to reduce the sensation of clutter brought about by open shelving. Oh, and I'd prefer not to have unpainted MDF fitted furnishings, and I'd like sufficient space to change the layout of the room to suit the occasion. I'd also like a slight resonance to make my job easier, and rely on good classroom management to avoid undue pupil noise, rather than the acousti-booth effect.

Did I notice anything I liked? Yes. There were loads of power points as well as equipment for Powerpoint or similar presentations. I just hope they have the computers to plug into them. But we're looking for somewhere else to hold choir practice in.