Dinner At Sessions Arts Club With John White, Not With Charlie, 10 November 2026

Nano Banana 2.1 image, loosely based on Geordie Soc cartoon & my instructions

As many readers know, John White & I have known each other for 45+ years; friends from our Keele University days – especially our students’ union sabbatical era 1984/85.

One of our favourite memories from out Keele era relates to our doing SU discos together. The Geordie Mag chose to tease John in the cartoon used as the headline picture for the article below:

The Very End Of Autumn Term At Keele, Including Sweet Sorrow & The Dynamic Disco Duo, 12 to 17 December 1984

Role the clock forward 40+ years to the Sessions Art Club. John and I are now well in our 60s and do not hold ourselves out as being cool any more…I’m not sure we ever did think of ourselves as cool.

Yet, the story depicted in the headline image basically happened, give or take a well crafted pay-off line by yours truly the next morning.

Sitting at the bar, behind John, was a pair of young women, who seemed to be drinking all evening without eating. Perhaps they had eaten earlier than us and were lingering over some drinks.

At one point, one of them tottered off her bar stool and slightly collided into the back of John’s chair. She apologised profusely. John gently told her that no harm was done. About five minutes later, she approached John and asked him if either of us had any coke on us. Flabbergasted, John simply said no and she resumed her stool.

Mashed potato beneath the guinea fowl, not a heap of white powder or anything

One portion of cheese between the two of us – John starting to split the delicious plate of goodies – he’s not demonstrating how he might cut anything other than cheese and accoutrements, m’lud.

I suppose there is a first time for everything and for sure this is the first time that John & I have been approached by someone hoping that we’d be a source of illicit substances.

That, despite the fact that we’d sometimes do the bust fund discos, back in the day.

A 1984/1985 Keele Students’ Union Bust Fund Disco Playlist

Even further back in the day, Sessions Arts Club was the old Middlesex Sessions House – the largest court house in the whole of England, albeit for lesser crimes than the Old Bailey. Flogging, imprisonment or deportation to far-flung colonies being the main sentencing tools.

Gulp.

Talking of which, the food and the wine was excellent. As is the stunning ambiance of that place.

We started with some bread, butter and mortadella.

We liked the look of mains:

  • Cod, pear & minestra nera
  • Guinea fowl, potato & puntarelle

We shared both, which the staff kindly brought to us in a sensible sequence.

I had a rather fruity orange wine – trendy restaurant, go for the trendy wine. John went for a white wine with the term D’Orient in its name, in honour of his football team, which was playing that evening. John’s undying support did Leyton Orient no good that night, apparently.

We followed it up by sharing the delicious cheese plate: Wigmore & Stichelton, with which we both tried the recommended white port.

As always, John and I had a most enjoyable catch up and meal. And on this occasion we also have a story upon which we’ll be able to dine out for a while.

Who’d have thought that someone would assume that a superannuated pair of snowflakes [did you see what I did there?] like me and John might be a source of Charlie? I can confidently state that neither of us tried the stuff even once.

Breaking Stretch: Patricia Brennan Septet, Wigmore Hall, 9 November 2026

Janie and I love a bit of jazz at The Wigmore Hall. We think the venue suits the genre. It is also a venue that could do with expanding its demographic catchment, which jazz, on the face of it, should help achieve.

Here is a link to the Wigmore Hall stub for this concert.

Having said that, the audience demographic for the excellent Patricia Brennan Septet seemed little different from the Wigmore Hall norm. Possibly we were, on this occasion, quite close to the average age, rather than still being in the younger half of the audience.

No matter.

Except that Patricia Brennan, bless her, seemed very keen to engender a party atmosphere and encourage some dancing in the stalls, which, frankly, was not going to happen in that cohort.

Also, it has to be said, the intriguing but complex syncopated rhythms, that seem to be Patricia’s hallmark, do not really lend themselves to dancing. At least not dancing in the sense that Janie might get up and dance and look as though she knows what she is doing…which Janie does.

I possibly could have managed some jerky moves that could embarrass beyond the level of “dad dancing”. Is “grandad dancing” a thing? Or is that term an oxymoron?

Yes, an oxymoron -thought so. Thanks Google Flow / Nano Banana 2.1.

Still, the Breaking Stretch music was both interesting and enjoyable. It took a while to attune to it, but once we did, the melodies and rhythms took to our fancy.

Here is a sample of what we heard from Patricia Brennan’s own YouTube channel. You should get a decent idea from this 10-minute clip:

I have to say that the musicianship from all of the musicians on show that evening was superb, but especially the virtuoso performance of Patricia Brennan herself on vibraphone.

I must confess to very limited exposure to “vibes” prior to this concert. In fact, ahead of setting off, I felt compelled to play Janie The Intro & The Outro by the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, with the immortal quote:

…and looking very relaxed, Adolph Hitler on vibes…nice!

In fact, Patricia Brennan not only looked very relaxed but also looked as though she was enjoying herself more than the audience, which is, after all, one of the first laws of jazz musicianship. The other performers all looked less relaxed and less full of joy.

Let’s give the last word to the Patricia Brenan Septet – this live clip from a few months before our concert:

The Moth by Paul Herzberg, Finborough Theatre, 31 October 2026

This is a chilling, powerful piece.

In the fascinating play text/programme, Paul Hertzberg explains that he experienced the terrible Angolan War of the late 1980s as a South African conscript and that he has, over the years, written several pieces about it; not least stories he has been told about other people’s shocking experiences.

Hertzberg wrote the central story of The Moth as a 10-minute lockdown monologue. Enthused by the success & stir caused by that piece, plus Hertzberg’s desire to expand the work and include some other dramatic ideas he had around the story, he came up with The Moth in its current form.

The play runs for some 100 minutes or so, plus interval.

Here is a link to the Finborough resource for this play/production.

Arguably, the play is a tad too long. Some of the themes repeat. But then, to be fair, Herzberg is using the dramatic device of the central characters’ paths crossing over the decades to illustrate the notion that traumatic happenings don’t just go away – they infuse and inform the lives of those caught up in them.

Some elements of the play are designed to tell us about the Angolan war, on the basis that we probably don’t know very much about it. But then, as the South African intervention in the late 1980s was a “secret war”, we’re not supposed to know much about it unless we are told. The story does need that context to make sense as a dramatic representation of the kinds of horrific things that really did happen.

In some ways it reminded me of “We Are Proud To…”, which we saw at The Bush over 10 years ago, and not just because it was about little-known South West African tragedies:

We Are Proud To… by Jackie Sibblies Drury , Bush Theatre, 15 March 2014

Not just the horrors of war – also horrific are the tales of the Afrikaner soldier’s upbringing; memories of his ultra-violent, failed-Nazi, father.

Differently upsetting were the tales of the freedom-fighter’s son – his upbringing in seemingly-benign Balham, yet his sense of invidious racism and the psychological damage caused by having a permanently absent mother and frequently absent father were some of the best aspects of the drama.

Both Micky Cochrane and Faz Singhateh act their parts very well.

The Moth is not an easy watch. It has split the jury on reviews – click here for those. But we were both very struck by it and it kept us both discussing and debating for the next couple of days – which we always take to be a strong sign.

The Moth is running until 21 November 2026. Here’s the Finborough link again.

(Youth) Club Night At Kimchee, 27 October 2026

Sandra, Liza, Linda, Andrea. I’m safely behind the lens for this shot.

I commented last year about the double meaning of the term “Club Night” for me:

  • almost monthly real tennis gatherings at Lord’s which I, for my sins, curate;
  • once or twice a year get togethers with my BBYO youth club pals from back in days of yore.
Two Club Nights & A Silver Racquet, Lord’s, Kimchee & Lord’s, 22 to 26 October 2025

This time, the Korean setting also had double meaning, as the previous week I had attended a work event with visitors from Busan on the Tuesday, then curated real tennis Club Night at Lord’s on the Wednesday.

One of the London-based Korean speakers was most impressed to learn that I would be eating at Kimchee the following week, as he and his family really rate that place. Well done Andrea for choosing it and using your connections (the Kimchee website) to book the table.

As always, it was really good to see everyone who could make it. We chatted about old times…and new times…and all that.

The evening flew by.

Someone thought that I’d be the best placed person to arrange a group selfie of the five of us who attended that night…

…but they were wrong. My effort was pathetic. You see young folk doing this sort of thing with apparent ease, but I have never got the hang of doing anything more than a double selfie.

That’s why I took the headline photo in traditional fashion, which accords with the way I was trained by my dad to take photos.

But I was not in that photo, so I had a go at mogging the whole evening with a solo selfie.

Hawk-eyed readers will observe that I even manage to get my fist in the way for a solo selfie. Discerning viewers will also conclude that my mogging attempt failed aesthetically.

OK, so I am useless at taking selfies with phones, but I have got the knack of instructing free versions of AI software to help get me out of holes. I sent the above three pictures to Google Flow (Nano Banana 2.1) asking it to produce the five person selfie that I ought to have taken.

Me, Sandra, Liza, Linda & Andrea – as envisaged by Nano Banana based on my instructions.

I think it’s done rather well. Or should I say that I have done rather well, instructing the software with such precision.

But the truth is, we don’t need pictures from these get togethers – it’s the memories and the friendships that really matter. Those have endured for decades and for sure will continue to endure.

Life Begins At Forte: CPE Bach, Mahan Esfahani, Aapo Häkkinen & A Double Dose Of Keyboards At The Wigmore Hall, 19 October 2026

Harpsicord up front with fortepiano behind

Janie was not the only member of the audience who was perplexed from the outset by the stage configuration for this concert.

To be fair, the central conceit of the whole thing was the Emmanuel Bach double concerto for harpsicord and fortepiano, so I suppose we might have expected to see two big instruments on the Wigmore Hall’s small stage.

Fortepiano up front with harpsicord behind

What was not so clear on booking, or even from my pre show photographs, is that the Helsinki Baroque Orchestra, bless them, were entirely obscured from the audience’s view, apart from, to use Janie’s precise words:

…the performers’ crotches and their feet.

Looking at people’s feet is a bit of a busman’s holiday for Janie, of course.

Janie has a bit of a thing about the Wigmore Hall, with its lack of tiering, such that we basically land “front row mafia” seats by dint of our supporter level membership or we don’t go. Thus, not being able to see much, despite being with the front row mafia, did not go down well.

A shame, really, because the music was lovely. And we did have a very good view of the keyboard fellas – Mahan Esfahani & Aapo Häkkinen.

We’d seen Mahan Estahani before, several times. The first time we saw him, he was not much more than a boy:

The English Concert, Wigmore Hall, 15 March 2009

It wasn’t the first time we’d seen Aapo Häkkinen and the Helsinki Baroque Orchestra either…

Finns Ain’t What they Used To Be, Helsinki Baroque Orchestra, Wigmore Hall, 6 January 2018

…although we saw a lot more of the orchestra in 2018 than we saw in 2026, for reasons already explained.

Returning to 2026, we exclusively heard symphonies and concertos by CPE Bach:

  • Symphony in F Wq. 175 (1755)
  • Concerto in E minor for harpsichord Wq. 15 (1745-7)
  • Symphony in E minor Wq. 178 (1756)
  • Symphony in A Wq. 182/4 (1773)
  • Concerto in E flat for harpsichord and fortepiano Wq. 47 (1788)

The programme notes do a wonderful job of explaining CPE’s musical (and patronisation) journey from his earlier Berlin years to his later Hamburg years. That explanation also sets out the symbolism of the double concerto, which I did think was especially lovely.

Not only do the two instruments demonstrate a great contrast between the older plucked harpsicord and the “modern” hammering of the fortepiano, but Mahan Esfahani & Aapo Häkkinen demonstrate contrasting styles of play – the former flamboyant, the latter tense and precise. They also greet and take their bows in the most contrasting manner – Esfahani warm and emotional, Häkkinen quintessentially Finnish in his restraint.

All so intriguing, but Janie remained adamant that blocking the view of the whole stage rather diminished the event for her.

Of course, on a larger stage that work can be performed without so obscuring the other artistes. Here are some other folk performing the first movement on a large stage:

…and here is a birds-eye view of yet another orchestra – this time performing the whole piece:

And Janie did admit that an evening at the Wigmore Hall is always a stress reliever, even if the concert isn’t quite to her taste.

Hamsters v Dedanists, Royal Tennis Court, Hampton Court, 15 October 2026

Cum gratiis Musae Nanae 2.1 via Fluxus Google

My serene mood on the morning of this match was shattered by my sat nav announcing that my destination, Hampton Court Palace, had moved since my last visit. “Wow.  The power of AI”, I thought, checking the route and noting that it was unchanged from my previous visits.

After a smooth and traffic free journey, my serenity was restored; until I arrived at Tennis Court Lane to the sight and sound of a municipal rubbish lorry outside the tennis court.

In a faux American tourist accent, I asked the security desk attendant:

“Is that a genuine Tudor garbage truck?” 

The attendant laughed and radioed his colleague, alerting him that the “genuine Tudor garbage truck” was on its way. 

Post-truck, serenity was restored, until battle commenced. I even had time to walk around and take a couple of photographs on that splendid morning.

Even the geese looked serene, entirely oblivious to the sense of forthcoming battle.

The results card summarises the battle: The Hamsters narrowly won the first three rubbers, then narrowly lost the last two. Every rubber was really tight – even the two-setters had a great many 40-40 games, with ebb and flow aplenty.

Just a few comments on the dramatis personae.  Vernon Morris and Charlie Kearl of the Hamsters paired well to defeat the (previously undefeated in this fixture) pairing – me and Richard Prosser.  They also both kindly doubled-up later as injury substitutes. 

There is an adage in cricket-watching that the most formidable players are those with two first names, i.e. names that still make sense if you reverse the first and surname. Once Graham Findlay and Iain Harvey learnt that they were to face Vernon Morris and Barry Clive, the result was inevitable. Close but ultimately a win for the Hamsters was the result.

Before that, Ian Falconer and Christie Marrion looked well in control after the first set, only to be masterfully turned around by John East and Graeme Marks.  Ian’s previous connection with this fixture was my visit to see him act on the evening after this match, two years ago – click here to read about that.  I have oft observed that, ever the actor, Ian Falconer really turns it on, tennis-wise, when he has an audience. A party of schoolkids no doubt helped Ian in the first set. Had I not been marking, I’d have rushed to round up some more school parties for the second and/or third set, which might have made all the difference. 

In the fourth rubber, Ian Hopkins and John Yarnall looked in control, until Richard Sutcliffe and Charles Heaton, both unused to the vagaries of the RTC court, slowly got used to the court and took control of that rubber. 

Similarly, Charlie Kearl and promising Hamster newbie Jay Lewsey (remember where you read that name first) looked in control against Peter Brunner and James McDermott, until Peter and James settled into their task and took the final rubber in three sets.

And of course the Dedanists’ Society coffers have been enhanced by dint of the Dedanists’ playing fees and the generosity of Hamsters alike. 

The Hamsters hospitality, as always, was splendid – Ian Hopkins, with help from assembled Hamsters, provisioned us with delicious lasagne, salad, cheeses and lemon cheesecake, with wines flowing plentifully for those who imbibe. 

As usual, for this delightful fixture, serenity and that wonderful real tennis feeling of bonhomie prevailed.

A picture is worth 1000 words.  I asked Nano Banana 2.1 (Google Flow) to help depict the events of the day in the time-honoured fashion.  The power of AI.

What The Animals Say by David Ireland, Finborough Theatre, 3 October 2026

Janie and I both had a truly excellent evening of theatre with this one. If you are reading this piece wondering whether or not to see this play/production, please interrupt your reading, click this link to The Finborough and “sort yourself out” before reading any further on this piece.

We are fans of the Finborough, which tends to put on several productions a year that “float our boat”. This one certainly did.

For a start, the playwright is David Ireland. Janie and I saw his astonishing and wonderful play Cyprus Avenue in 2016…

Cyprus Avenue by David Ireland, Royal Court Theatre Upstairs, 30 April 2016

…and I have been on the scout for his stuff ever since.

Stop press: a film of that astonishing production of Cyprus Avenue is available on iPlayer until June 2027 – click here.

We missed out on his Ulster American when we went to the Edinburgh Fringe for a week in 2018, because I didn’t spot it ahead of time and learnt that it was the sold-out, must-see production of that season.

We might have missed out on What The Animals Say at the Finborough too, had it not been for a tangential e-conversation with Ben Schwarz about the Director, Harry Burton, a few weeks ago.

Ben was aware that Harry had been in touch with me, through Ogblog, about some earlier work…

The Wonder: A Woman Keeps A Secret, Susanna Centlivre, The Gate, 16 September 1989

…and that Harry & I had subsequently corresponded about theatre, Pinter, cricket and stuff.

Ben suggested that we three meet, I suggested that the last cricket match of the season at Lord’s in late September would be a suitable occasion, Ben discovered that Harry was going to be in full rehearsal for What The Animals Say at that time, and the rest is history.

For the record, Ben and I did spend a most enjoyable day at Lord’s for that match between Middlesex & Northants.

It looked a bit like this, although Ben joined me on 24th, Day One, whereas I took this picture when I popped back to Lord’s late on Day Two.

But I digress.

As indeed do the characters in What The Animals Say, verbally leaping around their earlier lives, their current lives, their aspirations, their dashed hopes, and, naturally, the Troubles. The politics of Northern Ireland is never far away in David Ireland’s work.

The largest heaps of praise, though, must go to the two actors, Robbie Martin and Matthew Blaney, who absolutely make this play dance off the page and onto the stage. Janie commented afterwards that this play could only possibly work on the stage if both actors were top notch.

Great praise also to Harry Burton, who has directed this short, powerful piece with aplomb.

This production really does deserve a larger audience. I feel like a stuck record when I say this about Finborough productions – but that house is so small and the runs are so short. Surely this production of What The Animals Say will be picked up for a transfer.

If it is still October 2026 and you read all the way to the end here without clicking the Finborough link and grabbing some tickets before it is too late…click here…Now please.

A Weekend In Nottingham To See Middlesex Win The One Day Cup, 19 to 21 September 2026

Can you find us a really good AirBnB in Nottingham, within walking distance of Trent Bridge?

…asked Daisy, the day we learned that Middlesex had qualified for a one day final for the first time since 1990.

How’s about this one?

…was my reply, finding a really nice-looking modern apartment, just across the water from West Bridgeford, overlooking the River Trent. Very conveniently located for the Trent Bridge ground, especially now that there is a new footbridge across the river enabling a walk through the park to the ground. I quickly secured two nights there.

I also booked us a table at Cleaver & Wake for the night before the match.

The thing I didn’t take into account was the fact that Nottingham Forest were playing Coventry City that Saturday, which caused a fair bit of extra traffic driving into Nottingham. I also worked out that we wanted to walk to the restaurant a little early, ahead of the heaving crowd that would be emerging from The City Ground around 7:20/7:30. We just about achieved that.

As we walked towards Cleaver & Wake, we heard very loud house music, which seemed to be coming from the Island Quarter – the exact vicinity to which we were heading.

Oh yeh. Binks Yard.

How come we weren’t invited to the party?

…I asked the receptionist as we arrived at Cleaver & Wake.

You’re dining here, so you are invited.

The restaurant itself was quite well insulated from the noise, but we could see the amazing light show through the windows, which we rather enjoyed.

Excellent grub and very good service at Cleaver & Wake.

We shared a light smoked fish salad starter, then we also shared two amazing mains:

  • BARBECUED MONKFISH Ratte potatoes, kohlrabi, dashi & Champagne Beau Blanc
  • SIGNATURE BEEF WELLINGTON Pomme purée, Lincolnshire Poacher, Roscoff onion, Cabernet Sauvignon

We decided to take up our invitation to party at Binks Yard, but then got cold feet and watched from afar, you can click here to see what it looked like, before ordering an Uber home.

The next day we took that lovely walk across the footbridge and through the park:

We went to the cricket and had a great time. Everything we want to say about that is contained in Daisy’s match report, which will be published on the King Cricket site in the fulness of time. Once that has happened, I’ll link that piece here.

Spoiler alert:

Metaphorically Homeless For Four Nights In Moseley & Three Days At Edgbaston, 8 to 12 September 2026

Wanting to be well ahead of the curve, picnic-wise. for this year’s Edgbaston trip, Daisy and I went shopping on the Sunday before Edgbaston week to stock up on everything but the most perishable items (bread and fruit) for the forthcoming picnic-fest. This shopping we achieved in Kensington after visiting my friend Barry’s amazingly colourful photographic art exhibition:

Colour Is A Joyful Thing, Barry Eaglestone Exhibition, Ice House Gallery, 6 September 2026

The next day, around eleven, my stress levels went through the roof when I received an e-mail from AirBnB informing me that tomorrow’s booking for four nights in Moseley had been cancelled for unspecified force majeure reasons.

We were temporarily homeless and wondering where I might find somewhere faintly near where we wanted to be at such short notice. This was the second time I’d felt a sense of homelessness about this trip – the first time was when I logged on to book the Edgbaston tickets, more than a year earlier, to discover that our regular stand(s) of the past quarter century were to be a building site. Exile in the South Stand was the solution.

As for accommodation, “fortunately”, I found space in a place nearby that we had stayed in before, in 2023, nice place but limited kitchen as I remembered it. That would have to do.

Tuesday, we set off for Moseley via Leamington, where I had a hit on the real tennis court with Doc Robson, Charles Heaton & John Yarnall. The first two joined me and Janie for lunch, after which Janie and I toddled to M&S to stock up with the remaining items we thought we needed.

The limited kitchen in our emergency Moseley home was even more limited this time than it had been in 2023, so we needed a visit to M&S in Moseley on our way to Sabai Sabai to get some additional basic condament items.

Nigel shows his full-tilt sympathetic social worker face on learning of our last minute eviction notice.

Actually, come to think of it, pretty much everything I want to say about the next few days is there to be read in Ged’s piece on the King Cricket website:

With 2027 Edgbaston Ashes tickets up to £115, here’s a spectator report from a more affordable Test-viewing era (2026)

If anything were ever to befall the King Cricket site, click here for a scrape of that page.

The fact that the match was still alive on the third day and even into the fourth was pretty much down to this guy - Razaullah:

I took this photo on Day One, because this unknown bloke just looked SOOOO up for it.

The drive up had been a rain-soaked horror-show. The drive back was glorious sunshine, made stressful for me only by Janie looking at the score, about 30 miles from home, soon after Day Four started, saying, "two for one...no, sorry, two for two".

Colour Is A Joyful Thing, Barry Eaglestone Exhibition, Ice House Gallery, 6 September 2026

After a back-breaking, lung-busting game of tennis at Boston Manor Park, what better way for me and Janie to spend what is left of a Sunday Morning than pop over to Holland Park and see Barry Eaglestone’s wonderfully colourful photographic exhibition.

Barry is a friend from the Body Works West health club, where we have both been members for longer than all-but a couple of dozen other people. In short, I have known Barry for decades.

He has relatively recently turned a former hobby in photography into a fully-blown avocation. He has had several previous impressive exhibitions, one of which Janie and I very much enjoyed a couple of years ago.

This one, Colour is a Joyful Thing, which runs at The Ice House Gallery until 13 September, is especially eye-catching.

Barry’s innovation for this exhibition is to put some of his wonderfully composed and colourful photographs through some arty filters and print them on canvas.

You can have a look at his work and contact Barry through his website, through this link and the link below.

Gallery

But if you really want the wow factor from his work and can spare the time, get thee to the Ice House Gallery in Holland Park before close of play on 13 September 2026.

Holland Park itself looks surprisingly splendid at the end of a drought summer, although not as colourful as usual and certainly not as colourful as Barry’s exceptional splashes of photographic colours on exhibit.