EDIT (October 2011): It’s come to my attention that I’ve been cited on the DH2 score’s Wikipedia page as a music critic. I just want to confirm that I am NOT a professional writer, just a curious and passionate fan.

Late last year we heard rumours that John Williams would return to the Harry Potter franchise to compose the final Potter film, which I wasn’t particularly writing home about. I’ve actually not been much of a Williams fan in the Potter series (“Hedwig’s Theme”, “Fawkes the Phoenix” and the Prisoner of Azkaban score notwithstanding). However, it was later announced that Alexandre Desplat would stay on for Part Two.

After all, it just makes sense to finish what you’ve started.

I wrote my review of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part One in April. I thought Desplat’s score enhanced the film wonderfully, and I was confident that Part Two was in sensitive and capable hands. Listening to Part Two now, I can happily back that prediction.

I suppose it’s excellent timing to post this, as the first trailer for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 was released today. And oh my God how FANTASTIC does it look! But my excited squees will come later.

Put simply, Alexandre Desplat is my favourite film composer of all, followed by Dario Marianelli, Joe Hisaishi, Yann Tiersen and er, many others. But I know and love Desplat best; I’ve practically grown up with him. My first encounter with his music was in Girl with a Pearl Earring, the film adaptation of Tracy Chevalier’s novel starring Scarlett Johansson and Colin Firth (two people with whom I was pretty infatuated at the time). The movie had my tick of approval, but it was the music in particular that struck out to me. I had never heard anything so exquisite, so heart-wrenchingly gorgeous to my ears; I scrambled to know who the composer was and where I could get the soundtrack. Back then I wasn’t so knowledgable about online avenues, but eventually while I was on a bookstore tour with the school librarian and other classmates, I found a CD in stock at Readings.

And so began my unequivocal relationship with Desplat’s music—and …

I couldn’t help but gravitate toward the recent controversy of Amy Chua and her “tiger mothering” methods. After all, like my other Chinese (or Asian, really) first/second generation counterparts, we’ve all been through similar childhoods, and we’ve all had a good self-deprecating chortle at all the “fobby” things our parents did and made us do. Ms Chua, however, is an entity unto herself. Extremely neurotic, obsessive, controlling—she is all those things, and then some. She herself admits in her book that she wouldn’t wish herself on any child. This book is by no means a how-to guide for parenting—it is a surprisingly entertaining (sometimes on a perverse level) memoir, fusing a celebration of parental success with a cautionary tale of the dangers of caring too much.

Last night, all was crowded on the Palace front. My uni buddies and I sidled into a space at the front, watching the opening band, Seja, perform (who was good in a mellow, Au Revoir Simone synth-pop/electronica way, if a little shaky) but we were really just  impatient for Goldfrapp.

The roadies unveiled a giant shimmering silver nylon/spandex set prop shaped like a gramophone horn. Just a teasing prelude into what the night ahead promised. Given the physical limitations of the stage I was a bit apprehensive about how it would all turn out. But come half an hour later, boy did I have absolutely nothing to worry about, because as soon as “Voice Thing” started sighing through the airwaves and the lights flashed and the dry ice made a smoky haze, it was just one continual stream of dazzling, palpitating, hallucinogenic spectacles after another.

For the lucky Melburnians and visitors in town, the National Gallery of Victoria (NGV) for today only is showing Salvador Dalí: Liquid Desire for 24 hours, from 10am till 10am tomorrow morning. It’s the last day today to see it! Isn’t that brilliant? Sure, they’re probably just trying to squeeze in last minute cash, but I’m sure they’ll be successful tonight. I for one love the idea of popping by at 3 in the morning; if only I felt safe enough to do so. I visited twice on two Art After Dark Wednesdays (poor student that I am). I stayed five hours on the latter Wednesday, not really because it was that “omg awesome!”, but I was frantically jotting down hundreds of notes for my essay, which I’ve published below. The exhibition just bursts with so much detail and diversity; 300,000 people have attended already, but it begs the question—what makes Dalí so popular, given his eccentric, exuberant life and career?