Gresham Society Soirée, Barnard’s Inn Hall, 16 December 2019

Is it really two years since the last Gresham Society Soirée? Yes. I wrote up the previous soirée thusly:

This time around, 2019, the programme looked like this:

Unfortunately, my magnum opus for 2019, which marks Sir Thomas Gresham’s 500th birthday, hence The Sir Thomas Gresham 500th Anniversary Song And Dance, was accidentally misnamed as the Sir Richard Gresham themed performance I gave in 2017. But I was able to put people right on that point pretty easily.

But before all of that, Michael Mainelli made a brief appearance to leave soiréeistas in no doubt that the show was about to begin, when he blasted our lug-holes with the sound of his bagpipes.

Michael Mainelli on bagpipes? Well I’ll be blowed!

Mercifully, Part 1 of the soirée was a highly professional and entertaining set by David Jones and Sian Millett, which gave us all plenty of time to recover from the lug-hole blasting and listen to the superb talents of this pair, who are very much becoming Gresham Society soirée favourites.

David & Sian as seen in 2017

David demonstrated his vocal versality with material ranging from lieder to Lehrer. David’s rendering of Hochländisches Wiegenlied by Robert Schumann was a particular delight, not least David’s rendering of the non-Germanic word, “Carlisle” mid song, as was David’s perennial Tom Lehrer favourite The Elements Song, which David can peform better than anyone else I have ever seen attempt it.

Sian’s talents range from grand opera to musicals. Her rendition of Mon Coeur S’ouvre A Ta Voix, with David accompanying on piano rather than the more traditional orchestra backing, brought out the beauty of the melody and the words to my ears, enabling me to enjoy hearing that aria afresh. No recording of Sian and David’s performance, sadly, but those who want now to hear the aria might enjoy the 1961 Callas recording below.

Returning to Sian’s performances, her flirty rendition of I Cain’t Say No was great fun and went down very well with the audience.

Sitting in front of me was Bobbie Scully, with whom I had, in 1984, suffered an unfortunate fit of the giggles, when we accidentally attended a stilted Rodgers and Hammerstein recital, learn more by clicking here or the block below.

For the avoidance of doubt, Sian Millett’s soirée performance was absolutely nothing like the stilted recital of the mid 1980s; the audience laughter during Sian’s I Cain’t Say No was very much WITH Sian rather than AT Sian.

The tone changes for Part 2 of the soirée, which brings amateur talent and enthusiasm from within the Gresham Society to the fore. As if to lull us all into a false sense of security, the first couple of items – Robin Wilson on the recorder, followed by a recitation from Under Milk Wood by Martin Perkins – were suitably talent-filled and dignified.

Then it was my turn.

Actually, despite appearances, a fair bit of scholarship went into my piece. I discovered, quite by chance, while researching “Ding Dong Merrily On High” last year for the Z/Yen seasonal function, that Jehan Tabourot, aka Thoinot Arbeau, was a contemporary of Sir Thomas Gresham, the former being listed as either 1519 or 1520 in all sources I could find. Tabourot (under the pseudonym Arbeau) wrote, in the late 16th century, a book, Orchésographie, comprising dance tunes and dance moves he recalled from his youth.

Branle de L’Official, the tune that subsequently was used for Ding Dong Merrily On High, is one such dance from Arbeau’s Orchésographie.

The really strange coincidence about this, is that when I discovered the temporal connection between “Arbeau” and Sir Thomas Gresham, my Googling led me immediately to Ian Pittaway’s website and this superb article:

Ian is my early music teacher. We had been talking in late 2017 about me possibly using Coventry Carol for the 2019 Gresham Society bash, but the Arbeau song and dance possibilities seemed to good an idea to miss.

Fans of Coventry Carol might like to hear Soul Music on BBC Radio 4, which was broadcast on Christmas Day 2019, but is still available through this link, which features Coventry Carol and includes Ian Pittaway talking about the history of the piece and the effect it had on him, with a bit of Ian’s rendition playing in the background.

Anyway, I did test out the song and dance idea with the Z/Yen team in 2018 with predictably hilarious results…

…and just over a year later I inflicted same on the Gresham Society – except this time I had tailored the words to suit Thomas Gresham’s 500th birthday.

It would probably be to the benefit of all mankind if the Gresham Society soirée performance of this piece were lost in the mists of time, but unfortunately Basil Bezuidenhout had an accident with his mobile phone and inadvertently video recorded the darned thing.

I must say, the singing from the assembled throng sounds rather good, which is more than can be said for my singing that evening.

For the dance, I ever so slightly simplified the dance moves from this actual facsimile of the 1589 book:

Again, Basil had a mishap with his phone and the dance is recorded for all posterity:

Not much can go wrong in a dance like that, although I notice a couple of us ended up the wrong way round with our partners at the end of the first movement. Many thanks to David Jones for accompanying us on “virginals” and to Sian Millett for her delightful rendering of my silly words while we danced.

Anthony Hodson and David Jones then briefly brought a sense of decorum back to the proceedings with a rendition of the Elgar Romance for Bassoon & Piano, but then Robin Wilson and Tim Connell led the soirée past the point of no return in the matter of decorum. Song sheets that cover some of the residual malarky can be seen by clicking this link.

No such nonsense as the above 2017 rendition of Tinniat Tintinnabulum, dear me no. This year, instead, Robin Wilson lead us in a more ballad-like latin canticle, Reno Erat Rudolphus Nasum Rubrum Habebat

In the tradition of topical comedy, Tim Connell, Mike Dudgeon & Martin Perkins rendered a French Brexit Lament – click here for the text of that pièce de résistance.

After all that, the assembled Gresham Society stalwarts needed reviving with a great deal of food and wine…

…so it was just as well that there were indeed plentiful supplies of both, enabling the remainder of the evening to become a highly convivial party. There was eating, drinking, chatting, laughing and general merriment, without, by that stage, the fear of imminent music, song or dance from over-enthusiastic soiréeistas.

As ever in the company of Gresham Society folk, a thoroughly warm-hearted and enjoyable time was had by all.

Beethoven Transformed, Boxwood & Brass, St John’s Smith Square, 14 February 2019

To St John’s Smith Square at lunchtime, diverting on my way to the office for a musical snack.

Here is the SJSS stub for this concert.

I joined the nice “front Row couple” I quite often see and chat with at SJSS (and also occasionally at The Wig). They asked after Janie, as usually do and we chatted about Janie’s mild aversion (or I should say relative aversion) to SJSS.

We also discussed the ageing demographic at both venues and I alluded to the fact that I sometimes still get called “young man” at The Wig, whereas not so at SJSS.

Boxwood & Brass are “young people” for sure – a wind ensemble, based in Huddersfield, specialising in late 18th and early 19th century music. They describe themselves well enough on their own web site here.

One of their number, Emily Worthington, describes the project well in the following vid:

…and also the next one, which is about one of their earlier Beethoven projects:

I couldn’t help but think of the Noel Coward song, “Don’t Put Your Daughter On The Stage, Mrs Worthington” despite the fact that the charming young clarinettist shows none of the unfortunate characteristics attributed to Mrs Worthington’s daughter in the song.

Anyway, the ensemble treated us to Czerny’s wind ensemble arrangement of Beethoven’s Septet in Eb Op 20. A light piece which was apparently very popular in Beethoven’s day.

Here is a charming performance of the original Beethoven septet:

The Czerny wind version has only recently been revived – essentially Boxwood & Brass seek out such versions for revival.

Returning to the phrase, “young man”, that really does apply to Carl Czerny, who was all of 14 years old when he arranged this piece for wind ensemble. Precocious little fella.

Meanwhile, as we upped and left the hall at the end of this excellent lunchtime concert, the nice man from the nice couple patted me on the shoulder and said, “see you soon, young man”. It doesn’t really count once you’ve seeded the idea to someone, but still I thought it was a kind, friendly touch.

Remember where you first heard the name of this Yorkshire-based wind ensemble, Boxwood and Brass; ‘appen they were champion – I were well chuffed wirrem.

Igor Levit, Wigmore Hall, 27 December 2014

Igor Levit in 2019 – Bundestagsfraktion Bündnis 90/Die Grünen, CC BY 2.0

I got more out of this one than Janie did.

I’d heard so much about Igor Levit as this emerging talent which The Wig was promoting, so when this concert came up in the Twixtmas period, I thought it would be a good one for us.

Here is a link to the programme of the concert we heard.

I thought he was very good, but Janie thought he was showy and our friend Eric Rhode voted with his feet at half time, telling me afterwards that he found Levit’s playing very heavy handed.

He’s certainly getting rave reviews now; perhaps he was still a bit raw in 2014.

Here is a little snatch of Levit playing one of the Bach Partitas a few months earlier than our concert – it’ll give you an idea of his style and you can judge for yourselves:

Charlotte Bonneton & Karim Said, St John’s Smith Square, 29 September 2011

Mum, Angela, Janie and Me

Late in life, mum formed an unlikely friendship with the young, extremely talented pianist, Karim Said. I can’t remember exactly how it came about.

I know I recorded some BBC4 programmes about young musicians, which mum loved and watched over and over. Karim was one of those featured artists.

I think mum then watched those programmes with Angela Broad and I’m pretty sure Angela knew Karim, perhaps because he was one of the Tabors’ sponsored artistes…so the rest is history…

…anyway, mum and Angela had been to see and had met Karim before this gig. Mum and Karim had also had some exchange of correspondence, I seem to recall.

A very young Karim, I think from mum’s earlier outing with Angela to see him

Mum the groupie. I don’t suppose artistes at Karim’s stage have that many groupies either.

When this concert came up, it was most fortuitously located and timed for me; lunchtime at St John’s Smith Square. As a friend of the venue, I get a fist-full of free passes for those lunchtime concerts. I was also able to organise my work around a visit to Church House that morning, which was maximally convenient.

Here’s the order of play:

Charlotte Bonneton And Karim Said at St John’s Smith Square. The violinist and pianist perform Beethoven’s Sonata For Violin And Piano No 3, Boulez’s 12 Notations For Solo Piano and Faure’s Violin Sonata No 1 In A.

My taste in music did not/does not always coincide with mum’s and Angela’s, but on this occasion we were as one. We all enjoyed the Beethoven and the Fauré; we none of us liked the Boulez, which seemed in any case to make poor Karim’s fingers bleed.

“I’m going to tell him if no-one else will…” said Angela afterwards, in the matter of the commercial sense (or lack thereof) in Karim pursuing the work of composers like Boulez.

No matter.

Mum had a cracking good time. Karim was extremely pleasant and attentive after the concert. He even introduced us to his fellow musician, Charlotte, making mum ever so pleased by describing mum as his friend.

Curious about Karim? Here is a link to his website…

…and here he is performing something that is to my taste – click here or below:

My First Night At the Proms: Me, Jilly & Claudio, 1 September 1983

Claudio Abbado in 1982 (Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)

Judging from the notes in my diary, I was spending most of my working days late August and early September in Kenton, doing stuff for Laurie Krieger’s various enterprises, about which I have written a little elsewhere on Ogblog and no doubt will write more in the fulness of time.

As luck would have it, I was asked to return to the office that Thursday afternoon for the rest of the week. Luck, because Jilly, whom I had arranged to meet that evening, got a sudden compulsion to leg it over to the Royal Albert Hall to see the prom that night, as Claudio Abbado was to conduct the London Symphony Orchestra.

It’s Claudio Abbado. he’s the greatest. We’ve got to see him. We might never get another chance…

I was less sure than Jilly about this at the time. She was a budding music student of course, whereas I was still on the low foothills of appreciating classical music.

But I had heard of both pieces to be performed that night – here’s the BBC stub for that “show”:

  • Ludwig van Beethoven, Piano Concerto No 5 in E flat major, ‘Emperor’
  • Hector Berlioz, Symphonie fantastique.

Indeed, I even owned a recording of the Fantastique.

I remember queuing for quite a long time. I don’t remember whether we enjoyed this concert from the arena or the gallery. My guess is that it was the gallery as I don’t think we could have got there early enough to get in to the arena, but perhaps in those days “after work arrival” was good enough for the arena.

Of course it was very good indeed. Of course Jilly was right – I can now always say that I saw Claudio Abbado conduct.

Feeling envious that you didn’t hear the concert? Wondering whether you remember what orchestras and soloists (Emmanuel Ax on the piano for the Emperor Concerto) sounded like live under Abbado?

Fret no more. A website named pastdaily.com uploaded the recording of this concert as a tribute when Abbado died in 2014. Embedded below.

Thank you Jilly and thank you Past Daily.