Ancient Roslin Castle

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 Roslin Castle

I can’t stay away from the King Edward Hotel.

Who knows, it is conceivable that masons who built Toronto’s historic King Eddy Hotel were descendants of the stone masons who had a hand in building the ancient Roslin Castle . It is that old, crumbling edifice in Scotland that is the subject of this evocative, plaintive tune, and, well, simply the saddest tune I had on my person that day a couple of weeks ago.

I mistakenly thought that this massive room was whispering my name, calling me back, but actually I think its the sound of my flute that it likes, and the place just kinda puts up with me as some kind of agent or facilitator of these ethereal, musical results. Like Haydn ascribing his creations to god, I can’t begin to claim full responsibility for the extraordinary sounds once the flute begins…something else kinda takes over. This abandoned ball room - previously described on UFP - has some of the eeriest acoustics in Toronto, and not to mention that it also offers up some of the best lake-views in the city, with sweeping vistas of the docklands and harbour islands!

I had returned with the feeling one has when walking down a familiar street awaiting the return of a long-lost friend, looking at things as if for the first time, yet not sure who or what might be just around the corner. It’s this feeling – a sensation of  longing and connectedness – that draws me into intriguing, unusual acoustic spaces. Speaking of Freemasons, the Manitoba or San Francisco Legislative Buildings have pulled me like a magnet into their empty embrace…or perhaps more like a moth to a flame. Maybe it’s actually Roslin Castle that’s beckoning, calling out across time for me to pace those evocative, darkened  hallways once again, ancient spaces resonating through the kindred, present-day spirit of this ‘castle’ that is the King Eddy in our downtown core.

It’s definitely haunted, or so they say, although no disembodied workmen this time. Just the disarming sounds of that security guard that I kept hearing, coming up the stairwell shaft behind me as I reading my music leaned up in the dusty window ledge. And then, listening attentively in the silences between pieces, peering intently with all faculties through the blanketing shroud of stillness, the sounds would stop. The guard who never appeared.

Certainly it is oddly quiet up in this place, forgotten as it is, while the city streets teem with life far below. Another time I’ll have to bring along my Loaded Skateboard, you know, for a little levity and just for some light-hearted fun! Nothing like a little skateboard n’ flute to break the spooky spell of the place, and besides, there’s that long service ramp that angles down into the main space from beside the classic balcony: very inviting for a little sk8ing!

Seriously though, a few of us ought to meet here….how cool would that be? Say, for example, around the time of the next full moon later in May - hang on, let me check my Tibetan Nuns Project calendar…hmm-m, falls on a Saturday, which could be a little problematic. So why don’t we say Sunday May 1oth, latish around 10.30. I’ll post more specific info and directions here closer to the date.

So how does that sound: a short recital for a select audience…besides, who’s afraid of a ghost or two?