You find out who your friends are when you go to this sort of concert…
…or more realistically, The Wigmore Hall management finds out who its friends are.
Frankly, I booked this concert because I fancied hearing the Liszt transcription of Beethoven Seven, which, in the end, Igor Levit decided not to perform. Never mind. This is the concert programme he chose instead.
Anyway, the “Friends Party” aspect was secondary in my mind.
Janie and I didn’t know that the Friends of Wigmore Hall had been going for 30 years. We are mere arrivistes at the place, starting our adventures there a mere 25 years ago, in 1998, with this concert:
..for which we befriended the place and then attended pretty regularly (several times a year, pandemic aside) ever since.
After saying some fine words about how important the Friends of Wigmore Hall is to the hall and how important the hall is to his artistic life, Igor Levit played Schumann and Brahms instead of the Liszt.
After the concert, maintaining the Brahms and Liszt theme (did you see what I did there?) a drinks reception with Champagne for those who like alcoholic fizz and sparking elderflower presse for those who, like me, prefer their fizz non-alcoholic during the day.
On departure, Janie and I decided to thank John Gilhooly, who has been running the place extremely well for years, for the party.
Janie and I confessed to not having been supporters for all 30 years. John told us that we didn’t look like those who had been supporting for 30 years. Perhaps he underestimated our ages and wouldn’t have guessed that we have supported for 25 of the 30.
We then chatted briefly about John’s campaign to try to introduce a younger audience to the Hall, which Janie and I applaud. John then made a slightly off-colour remark about the reception being a bit of a legacies marketing campaign event…”but not directed at you two, obviously”, he said.
So I suppose we’d better remove The Wigmore Hall from our bequests list, then. 😉
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.
…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
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.
Romantic music from the late 19th early 20th century. Not the sort of music that Daisy normally goes for, but there were several songs by Alma Mahler in this concert; as Daisy knows Marina Mahler, the granddaughter, Janie was interested enough to give it a try.
Actually, the simplicity of the solo voice and piano pleased Daisy; the whole concert was very relaxing. Even the Alban Berg, which I thought might be a bit impenetrable, wasn’t.
I really liked the Sibelius song they performed on encore – Var det en dröm? – which I don’t think I had ever heard before.
On Janie’s suggestion, we had taken a sneak peak at Massimo Dutti before we got to The Wig. I had some colourful shirts put aside for me to try on after the concert.
But once the performance had ended, we both had a bit of a hunger on, so went to the Wigmore Hall restaurant, just for some soup, to tide us over until evening. Butternut squash soup it was, very tasty.
If you look at the table behind us, I inadvertently caught the performers at lunch – Julius Drake glancing in our direction while talking to the woman to his left; Katarina Karnéus sitting to Julius Drake’s right
After soup, we legged it to Massimo Dutti where the young lady who had been serving us earlier was just about to give up on us and put the shirts away again. I bought four, which I shall always associate with this very enjoyable afternoon and concert.
This concert was sponsored by the Tabor Foundation, so Janie and I went along and hoity-toitied with Michael and Doreen Tabor, plus Angela Broad and I think Catriona Oliphant was also there that evening.
Better yet, read the Classical Source Piece – click the picture
