Month: February 2018

Lunch With Cousins Ted & Sue Marcus, Followed By Artificial Intelligence At Ethical Reading, 27 February 2018

The weather was getting cold and frightful – the Beast From The East and Storm Emma were on their way.

But did that make me even the slightest bit nervous about driving beyond Zone 3 of Greater London to Reading in Berkshire? Well, yes, to be honest, I was slightly nervous, except that the weather report was pretty sure that we weren’t to expect too much snow to the west of London until Wednesday or Thursday.

In any case, I had arranged to have lunch with cousins Ted and Sue in Woodley and then go on to talk and lead a discussion at Ethical Reading on the ethics of artificial intelligence.

I needed to do some work before I set off, otherwise I’d have taken up Janie’s suggestion and popped in to see George and Amal at Castle Clooney before seeing Ted & Sue – it’s only a couple of miles up the road and I’m sure Amal and George would have been pleased to see me.

Anyway, Ted and Sue were glad to see me, as was the newest member of the Marcus family, little Max.

Little Max Marcus

Little Max showed his approval of my visit by yapping at me incessantly and giving my shins a violent hug.

It is a tradition in our tribe to name youngsters after passed but fondly-remembered family members. Ted and I share the Grandpa and Great-Uncle shown below, the latter being Max Marcus; Little Max’s great-great musical forebear.

Grandpa Lew, sitting, with Great Uncle Max standing

Janie says she can see the resemblance between Little Max and his Great-Great-Uncle Max.

Lunch was a rather grand affair – pumpkin & butternut squash soup followed my salt beef & trimmings, followed by a spotted dick pudding.

Janie remarked afterwards, when I described the meal, that it was a miracle I was able to get up and drive to Reading after that meal, let alone give an address and lead a discussion.

Ted, Sue and I discussed the family genealogy project, with which Sue is making slow but steady progress. She seems to be getting further with the other side of Ted’s ancestry at the moment, having recently traced some Dutch ancestors back to Baroque times.

Ted and I also talked about music, as most often we do. Ted knows a bit about almost any genre you can name, as he has always enjoyed exploring different styles and periods. Like me, he has inherited from our impressively talented musical family a love for music but not the talent for playing it…

…other than playing music on the hi-fi of course, for which he (and I) have an abundance of talent.

Every so often, Sue would gasp that it had started snowing, but in truth these were small flurries rather than troublesome snow proper – it was just horribly cold out of doors. Still, soon enough I did need to set off for Reading, so Sue, Ted and I said our goodbyes.

The Ethical Reading people seemed a very friendly and thoughtful crowd – only to be expected I suppose as the introduction came through Gill Ringland. There were more than 20 people on the night which, given the weather, I thought was a pretty good turnout.

Before the main group of people arrived, I chatted with Gill, Jim Bignal and Gurprit Singh, who comprise the founding team. Gill kindly asked after Janie’s health; I explained that Janie is well and keeping healthy by doing lots of exercise, such as her latest hobby, pole dancing. I think Jim and Gurprit thought this was a turn of phrase rather than a literal remark, as they seemed most surprised when I showed them pictures Janie had sent me from her lesson the day before:

 

But Janie’s physical gymnastics are/were no more impressive than the mental gymnastics demonstrated by the Ethical Reading group, who grappled with truly challenging ethical dilemmas around artificial intelligence with aplomb.

Once Ethical Reading publishes its promised blog piece about the event, I’ll link that piece through to this piece. In the meantime, here is a link to the Ethical Reading events page.

The journey home looked a bit more treacherous than it was – the snow was now falling but not too hard; I got home and to bed long before the worst of the snow landed in London overnight.

I sensed that the event had gone well, but I was still very pleasantly surprised to receive a kind e-mail from Jim Bignal the next day which read:

Many thanks for talking to us last night – you got 100% on the scoring.

…now there’s a first for me.

Trust by Falk Richter, Gate Theatre, 23 February 2018

This was a quite extraordinary piece. Weird, in a way that, it seems, only German plays can be weird.

Janie and I often walk away from such strange stuff baffled and dissatisfied, but certainly not on this occasion – we found the piece compelling to watch and entertaining, as well as baffling.

Sixteen very different scenes, ranging from videos with voice-overs, to seemingly straightforward two-handed romantic strife, to a Mandarin Chinese lesson for the audience…

…I suppose it’s all about the abuse of trust – domestic, financial and governmental.

Here is a link to The Gate’s resource on this production – click here…

…and below is the trailer, although the play only gives a passing mention to Brexit – you might expect more Brexit based on the trailer.

Excellent performances from Pia Laborde Noguez and Zephryn Taitte…and indeed from Jude Christian, the ubiquitous director who chose also to appear in this one.

Exceptional use of an infeasible quantity of props in a small space.

We thought the piece was very imaginative indeed and would recommend it highly. Yet another feather in the cap for Ellen MacDougall and her Gate tenure.

It will be interesting to see how critics and other people react to this piece. We saw a preview, but Daisy and I were interviewed for reaction on the way out – so we might well “form part of the conversation”, as the young folk say.

Update: yes, I got my 1.5 seconds of fame in the vox pop – see below but don’t blink or you might miss it:

Go see this show for yourself, if you are able – at the time of writing it has three weeks more to run.

Once it has reviews, this search term – click here – should find them.

Dinner In Clerkenwell With John White At The Modern Pantry, 22 February 2018

It was John’s turn to chose and mine to pay – John almost apologised for booking a place we’d been to before; The Modern Pantry in Clerkenwell. That place needed no apology for a revisit – I remembered it being excellent.

A couple of years ago, we tried the newer Finsbury Square Modern Pantry – click here or below – and we had agreed that Clerkenwell was far more interesting and to our taste.

The Modern Pantry – Finsbury Square with John White, 31 March 2016

John suggested that we meet at Ye Olde Mitre, as he had some vital business to conduct in there ahead of our evening. This idea also seemed like no hardship.

I had a very interesting audience with Nathan Myhrvold that afternoon, before getting some bits and pieces done at the office and then joining John in The Mitre.

John’s vital business seemed, to me, to be a few beers and a chat with some friendly colleagues, at least one of whom I had met before. Actually I had a feeling I’d met both before at one time or another.

Vital business concluded, John and I then strolled from Hatton Garden to Clerkenwell proper for our dinner.

Here is a link to The Modern Pantry website.

Here is what we ate:

  • Smoked burrata, roast romanesco, pomegranate molasses roast red onion & kaniwa salad, roast apricot relish, seed crisp bread – John’s starter
  • Cornish brown crab rarebit, yuzu guacamole, shichimi – my starter
  • Lime leaf & red chilli marinated chicken breast, braised rainbow chard, crispy salsify, black garlic & ginger dressing – John’s main
  • Red wine & star anise braised ox cheek, truffled celeriac puree, mange tout, runner bean & turnip salad, lemongrass & Aleppo
    chilli dressing – my main.

We talked about all sorts of things, like we do. I should write up the highlights…

…or should I? That would be predictable almost to the point of being dull. I’m always writing up the highlights. This time, here are the lowlights.

John informed me that he would be going to see Leyton Orient play in the  FA Trophy that Saturday. When I playfully quipped that, like him, Janie and I had nothing better to do that day, John informed me that it was only £10 a ticket and that Janie and I would be most welcome at Orient.

I explained that Janie feels cold at Lord’s in June and that she is probably, if such is possible, even more averse to football than I am.

John and I then hatched a small practical joke along the lines that I really wanted to go to this football match…which, as I suspected, didn’t work very well, as Janie knows only too well that I’d be hard to persuade to the football even for a very big match on a very warm day.

I then announced that it was the 40th anniversary of my being in the school play, Andorra, the very next day:

Andorra, 23, 24 & 25 February 1978

John and I then swapped school play stories for a while. John had played Private Hurst in Sergeant Musgrave’s Dance at school. John especially remembered finding the scenes between Hurst and Annie very difficult for his (then) shy nature:

Fair use image from stage play uploaded for a non-profit, educational purpose – for source & more details see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Sparky_and_Annie.jpg

I think Hurst would be the deep-set eyes geezer watching on from behind in the above image – that Hurst bears more than a passing resemblance to John, as it happens.

When I got home, I read the play for the first time in decades. I reckon John’s shyness in the liaison scenes would have worked fine. My reading of the Hurst character is that he projects himself as a soldier who is/has been a womaniser, but the character is in the zone for his mission during the play, with no interest in the attentions of poor Annie.

Not exactly the Stanislavki or Lee Strasberg way to achieve the desired effect, but as long as the young woman was showing the requisite enthusiasm, I should imagine that John’s lack of electric response would have made those scenes worked better than John imagined.

Perhaps John is now planning to reprise his role as Private Hurst using “the method”; that might explain him conducting his vital business in traditional taverns like Ye Olde Mitre.

However, the later scene which, as John described it, went as wrong as any scene in any school play could possibly go wrong, was so amusing a story I laughed long and loud. I felt bound to insist that John write it up as a guest piece for Ogblog and now feel bound to pre-announce it.

No rush John, no pressure.

Anyway, once again we’d had an excellent meal at the Modern Pantry. The food we think is outstanding. Perhaps the service was a notch below the level I remembered from the first time, but that might have been caused by as little as being as little as “one down” on staff, which can happen to the best of places.

If you like TripAdvisor links – click here for The Modern Pantry.

As always, it was fun to catch up with John – even on a bitterly cold February evening…

…I didn’t envy John’s journey home…

…nor his impending afternoon at the Leyton O’s.

A Matter Of Some Urgency, Dinner With Rohan Candappa At Supawan Thai, 21 February 2018

I always like to think that I would be there for a friend in their time of need.

So when I got a message from Rohan Candappa that:

As a matter of some urgency…

…there’s a Thai restaurant in King’s Cross that I think we need to go to…

…I was on the case straight away, like a fourth emergency service. Within hours, we had an evening date in the diary for a week or so hence.

Supawan is the place – click here for the website…

…or if you prefer TripAdvisor – click here. 

The urgency, it seems, was that Rohan had read a super review of this place and thought , “I always read these super reviews and never actually try these places. This time, I really must…”

Yes, Rohan, I was there for you. I just hope that you would be there for me in a similar emergency.

Indeed, Rohan’s stipulations went beyond the location…

we’re having Yum khao tod, Peek gai sai and menage phuket. They’re three small plates from the menu. You can choose the rest.

Actually, when I looked at the menu, all three of those starters were probably the very ones I’d have chosen, so I suggested that we both choose the mains, which was an equally easy task – we both liked the sound of the stuffed squid with mushrooms and the slow-cooked pork belly.

In truth, it was a near miracle that we were able to eat the Peek Gai Yud Sai  – stuffed chicken wings.

This was the week of the KFC supply crisis – click here for a post mortem piece from the BBC website.

When I pointed out to Rohan that this Thai restaurant was possibly the only source of Kentucky fried chicken wings in London…

…while he was eating his Peek Gai Yud Sai…

…Rohan couldn’t stop laughing for quite a while.

In truth, the culinary highlights were:

  • Yum khao tod starter, which was a sort-of sophisticated Thai-style chat;
  • Moo hong – Phuket-style pork belly.

But of course the highlight, more than chewing the pork belly fat, was chewing the fat conversationally with Rohan. A bit of reminiscing. A bit of swapping notes on the stuff we are writing.

Rohan clearly appreciated the fact that I had responded to his emergency call, as he presented me with a kindly gift – a book named Pop Sonnets – click here.

I’d like to show the image of Pop Sonnets cover, but sadly that image is subject to copyright, so all I can do is encourage you to click the above link and show you the image and vid below:

As we left Supawan, Rohan and I took a look at Keystone Crescent – click here – an extraordinary place – which I took to be late Georgian but is in fact as recent as 1855 – not that much older than my own place.

A fun evening – happy to have been able to help in your time of need, Rohan. Any time…within reason.

The World Of Byrd: Consorts Hymns Divisions & Dances, Phantasm, Wigmore Hall, 20 February 2018

This was a lovely concert of English viol music, specifically William Byrd, from the late Tudor/early Jacobean period. Phantasm are seriously good at this stuff.

Janie was up for this one. Wigmore Hall – warmer, much warmer. Byrd too.

William Byrd
An evening of early music with my Byrd
Funnily enough, come the interval I realise that, sitting behind me, was the very couple I sat next to at the Ancient Montreal concert the previous week, with whom I had swapped stories about the cold…

Music in New France & Québec, Studio de Musique Ancienne de Montréal, St John’s Smith Square, 15 February 2018

…we all agreed that the Wigmore Hall is much warmer. There’s something warm about Phantasm too. They come across as a very mellow, gentle ensemble. Laurence Dreyfuss always explains things and reads things out as if he is sitting in your private parlour having a comfy chat.

Here is a link to the Wigmore Hall resource on this concert.

Anyway the music was very soothing and relaxing, although it didn’t quite manage to do the de-stressing job on us that particular Tuesday night, while we were both having “a bit of a week”. That is the thing about Tuesday evening concerts.

That’s not Phantasm’s fault, nor the Wigmore Hall’s I do realise.

Gresham Society AGM & Dinner With Gyles Brandreth, London Capital Club, 19 February 2018

For many years I have claimed that there are only two places left on the planet where people still refer to me as “young man”; Lord’s and The Wigmore Hall. I must admit, though, it’s been a while since anyone has addressed me as such in either of those places.

As it happens, ahead of this Gresham Society event, I spent the early part of the afternoon at Lord’s, playing real tennis, as has been my wont since the spring of 2016. Real tennis is a fiendishly difficult game to play. The professionals point out that the 150-200 court hours I have put in so far leave me “barely out of nappies” in real tennis terms. Presumably I will go through a “young man” phase eventually before becoming a senior player.

We have several senior gentlemen who continue to play into their late 80s and even into their 90s.

Sadly, the video from that bout did not get saved – my opponent that day quite possibly asked for all evidence to be destroyed and frankly, given the circumstances, I don’t blame him.

After tennis, a relatively quick visit to the Z/Yen offices to sort out one or two work things before setting off, with Michael Mainelli, to the London Capital Club.

I think Michael was hoping that we’d be about five minutes late, thus missing most of the AGM, which Tim Connell had promised to keep to seven minutes.

In truth, we arrived just as the formalities were starting, so were able to appreciate all 12 minutes of the promised seven minute AGM.

Then some pleasant chat with several friends before descending to the dining area.

There was no seating plan, but I was lucky to sit with the Ayliffes to the right of me and Margaret Hodson to the left. Discussions with the Ayliffes mostly revolved around the political mess our nation (and indeed much of the western world) seems to me making of itself.

I knew about the musical side to the Hodson family, but was unaware of the horsey side, until that evening. The work that Margaret Hodson does with horse riding for disabled people is truly remarkable – click here for an independent view on it about 10 years ago.

The food was pretty good. A chicken salad round thing which was very well presented and tasty. The toast was quite hard – so much so that Margaret Hodson (and several others at our table) gave up on it. When she saw me persevering, Margaret gave a running commentary on my efforts, which could easily have been horse trials commentary, including the slightly disapproving/disappointed voice when one piece of the toast went flying towards the floor – no doubt a four-point penalty.

Then a slow-cooked lamb shank dish – a good idea for a large function and a very full-flavoured. The dessert was a crème brûlée.

Gyles Brandreth - Waffle TV
Afters at Gresham Society – no waffle here
Gyles Brandreth gave an excellent address to the Society. Clearly he was well briefed, so after an amusing potted history of the ups and downs of his career, he spoke highly of the Gresham Society. Gyles placed emphasis on the fact that we are the Friends of Gresham College, waxing lyrical about the benefits of societies that are genuinely friendly.

I totally agree. The Gresham Society is, above all, a very friendly bunch of people. We have a shared pleasure in and purpose through Gresham College, but it is above all a friendly group. For sure that is why I like to attend whenever I can…

…even if Basil teases me almost every time about my aversion to filling in forms and Tim Connell tries to find increasingly convoluted ways to avoid having me play my baroq-ulele…

…but I digress.

Towards the end of his talk, Gyles Brandreth mentioned younger members of the Gresham Society and I thought he might have glanced at me as he said it.

There was a little time left after the address for some more chat with friends before I realised that it really was time for me to head home.

As I was leaving, when I went up to Gyles to congratulate him on his talk and say goodbye, he told me that he was looking at me when he mentioned the younger members. I told him that I thought my days of being addressed as “young man” at Lord’s and The Wigmore Hall were behind me, but perhaps the Gresham Society, now a third outlet for what remains of my perceived youth, will revive my fortunes in that department.

As it happens, Janie and I went to the Wigmore Hall the next evening:

The World Of Byrd: Consorts Hymns Divisions & Dances, Phantasm, Wigmore Hall, 20 February 2018

I’m sorry to report, no joy in the “being addressed as young man” department that night.

But for sure I’ll keep trying; at Lord’s, at the Wigmore Hall and most certainly with my friends at the Gresham Society.

The Gresham Society AGM and Dinner had been a truly delightful evening.

The B*easts by Monica Dolan, Bush Theatre, 17 February 2018

This was a very interesting piece about sexual exploitation of children, written and performed by Monica Dolan, who was excellent on the stage.

Click here for the Bush resource on this play/production.

Janie got more out of the piece than I did – I found the ending a little contrived and felt the piece lacked drama. It is difficult to make monologues truly gripping – we’ve seen some corking good ones lately. This one is redeemed for me, though, because the piece is so interesting and Monica Dolan is such a strong stage presence.

Below is the trailer…

…and below is a “meet the writer” vid:

The reviews are, deservedly, pretty darn good – click here for a search term that finds them.

Another winner at The Bush as far as we are concerned.

Music in New France & Québec, Studio de Musique Ancienne de Montréal, St John’s Smith Square, 15 February 2018

I took rare unilateral action to see this concert. I booked myself a single ticket. I’m really glad I did.

It sounded so interesting in the SJSS brochure, but could I persuade Janie (Daisy) a few months ago to agree to venture into Westminster on what she suggested might turn out to be a bitterly cold Thursday evening in February? Could I heck.

Here’s a link to the SJSS rubric, which worked so well on me but not so well on Daisy.

As it turned out, it was a bitterly cold Thursday evening in February.

I had a Skype music lesson with Ian Pittaway before heading off to SJSS. I am working on some very strange and ancient plainchant with him at the moment. I’m trying to sing in a slightly higher register now, which seems to have more going for it with my voice than the lower register I find safer. Also some tutorial on transposing complex lute parts into simpler baritone ukulele (Tudor guitar) parts without turning, for example, Byrd’s “Though Amaryllis Dance In Green”, into a banal three or four chord pop song.

William Byrd
An evening of early music without my Byrd
On all of these matters, I’m sorry to say, Ian Pittaway concludes his seemingly helpful advice with the words, “that’s it – now keep practising that before the next lesson.”  Why can’t he teach well enough so that I can get it 100% right first time and not need to practice? That’s the sort of teacher I want. I’d even pay a few bob extra for one of those teachers. 😉  I mentioned this evening’s concert and asked Ian if he had heard of Aux-Cousteaux – Ian asked if he was a deep sea diver who also composed music. Does this guy know much at all about early music or is he just spoofing us all with his waggish manner?

Joking apart, the music lessons are going rather well in fact. But by the time I had finished fiddling around with one or two of those ideas in order to try and cement them in my brain, then finished off a couple of pieces of work that I really wanted to get out of the way before the concert, it was time for me to get my skates on…more importantly, time for me to don my hat, scarf and gloves…and head for Smith Square.

Preparing spiritually for a cold Québécois evening

The crypt was swarming with Québécois dignitaries being entertained and fawned over by the waiting staff, so my half-baked plan to pre-book the dining arrangements for my next visit with Janie, in May, came to nought. I hasten to add that the entertainment and fawning was a very dignified drinks and nibbles reception for the lucky Québécois swarm. Nothing “Presidents Club” about it.

Anyway, instead I bought a copy of the CD which seemed to be closest to the evening’s performance…

…then took up position along with a small posse from the regular SJSS front row mafia. The Québécois dignitaries had been allocated that “middle of the front block” which is deemed to be the best seats, although frankly, for a small enemble like this, I think front row is best even in a hall the size of SJSS.

I immediately knew the music was going to be to my taste. Ten voices singing a cappella, beautifully.

On researching the matter before the concert, I wondered why the Québécois considered this French early Baroque music to be their own. After all, Quebec City and Montreal were tiny little trading posts during that early Baroque period – a few hundred people in each place, mostly fur traders with a hundred-or-so monks in each town praying for the inhabitants to be spared famine, pestilence, Algonquian marauders, British marauders or combinations of several such fatal misfortunes.

It was all explained in the programme.

Firstly, some of the music they performed on the night is sung in the Abenaki language – that of the indigenous Algonquian people of that part of Canada – which is quite interesting. So it wasn’t all fisticuffs with the indigenous locals in those days.

In some ways more interesting is the sacred music of the early Baroque period by French composers, such as Henri Frémart, Jean-Baptiste Geoffroy and especially Artus Aux-Cousteaux. The monks brought the current music with them when they settled New France in the mid 17th century. There’s some very good music in there, which apparently would have been completely lost had scores not survived in Quebec, as all known copies of many of these composers’ works were destroyed in France at the time of the revolution.

So in those ways, this music is the Québécois people’s own.

The embedded sample is part of one of the Aux-Cousteaux pieces they performed on the night, so it gives you a very good feel for what we heard. I recommend that those who cannot resist the Aux-Cousteaux/Jacques Cousteau pun listen to this clip while submerged in their bath. Other folk, simply wallow in the delicious sound.

There was one modern piece by a young Québécois composer named Maurice-G Du Berger, who was at the SJSS gig to hear his piece and took a bow with the choir. It might be the first time I’ve seen a composer who was probably the youngest person on the stage in such circumstances.

At the end of the concert, the round of applause was resounding, but it wasn’t until towards the end of it that I realised that the Québécois dignitaries were doing that very North American thing of giving a standing ovation – the result being that the front row mafia was doing the SJSS regulars/British thing of politely but loudly applauding, while the rest of the audience was on its feet.

I hope the visiting choir didn’t think it was being dissed by the regulars, because the few I spoke to were all transfixed by the music and by all accounts the CDs sold like hot cakes in the interval.

It was a truly delightful concert, to round off a very interesting day of early music…

…but by heck it was a cold journey home that night. Not even faintly cold by Canadian standards of course, but for a wimp of a Londoner like me, it was well taters.

MCC v The Dedanists’ Society, Lord’s, 10 February 2018

About a month earlier, Mr Thirlwell and I entered the Lord’s dedans a few minutes before our scheduled gladiatorial hour, quite by chance to encounter Messrs Snitcher and Leigh planning the teams for the MCC v The Dedanists’ Society.

“Would either of you gentlemen possibly be available to represent the club on 10 February?” we were asked.

Both of us replied that we would check our heaving social calendars, but, each of us coincidentally suspected that the afternoon of 10 February might just be a tiny window of opportunity for the club to co-opt our services.

Mr Thirlwell relaxing in the dedans gallery after doing battle – with thanks to Janie for all of the photos and the videos

An hour later, as Mr Thirlwell and I were dragged off the court kicking, biting, punching and yelling at each other…

…as usual…

…yet another draw for the real tennis on-line score book…

…Messrs Snitcher and Leigh looked at each other and exclaimed in unison, “yes indeed, these two will be ideal canon fodder for our friendly match with The Dedanists’ Society.”

The Dedanists’ Society is a group of real tennis enthusiasts who raise money for good works in the sport – click here for further details.

Janie and I had enjoyed a Dedanists’ Society evening event only a few months earlier – click here or below for the story of that evening:

Drinks and Nibbles With The Dedanists’ Society, The Estorick Collection, Islington, 5 September 2017

So Janie needed only a little persuasion to join us on 10 February for lunch and to watch her boy (me) in action. By then we knew that I was scheduled to partner Mr Snitcher himself, for the first time in a match since my very first attempt at a doubles match some 18 months previously – click here or below for that tale of derring-do:

MCC v The Wanderers, Real Tennis Match, Lord’s, 10 September 2016

Janie and I planned, on the morning of 10 February, to play an hour of modern tennis before heading to Lord’s for lunch. But as there was still frost on the cars when we planned to set off to play, we postponed that fixture. All dressed up with no place to go for physical preparation, I resorted instead to psychological methods:

Preparing spiritually for the big match against the Dedanists

Janie and I arrived in good time for lunch; getting to see the end of the second rubber and chat with a few people before the all important business of chowing down.

The grub was good. The centrepiece was a very tasty chilli-con-carne with rice and vegetables, supplemented with some tasty nibbles, a brightly-coloured soup (carrot and tomato I should imagine) and an elegant cheese platter. Washed down with plentiful wine for those who had already done battle and a thimble-full of wine for a combatant-to-be, like me.

In truth, this particular fixture must be one of the friendliest matches in the whole of the global real tennis calendar. Most MCC members who play in the fixture are also members of The Dedanists’ Society. Most of the players on the day were members of both clubs; so much so that, at times, during play, we were struggling to work out which team was which.

Mark (the nominative deterministic gentleman who marks the matches), Mr Snitcher and yours-truly – let the battle commence

Soon enough it was our chance to play. The last rubber of the match – surely the highlight of the fixture. So much so that some of the people who had done battle earlier in the day simply couldn’t take the tension and left Lord’s before the game. Still, a good dozen or so people remained, hardly any of whom were having an afternoon snooze.

Mr Snitcher and I had spent many seconds preparing our tactics for the match. We agreed that I would do most of the running, so I should not expect to hear the call “yours”, I should only expect to hear the shout “mine”, at which point I should leave the ball.

Here’s an example:

Somehow it seemed to work out…

…as did my serve on the day; most but not all of the time:

…even my volley worked a bit better than usual…

…as one kind gentleman pointed out to Janie, I was in the zone…

…which is a polite way of saying that I was not really keeping track of the score, much as some people struggle to walk and chew gum at the same time.

Tony and Mr Devlin watched with rapt attention – it was that sort of match

Even Tony seemed full of glee at the end of the match. He told me and Mr Snitcher that we had excelled ourselves on court. He also said that we should be delighted with the progress we are making…

…at least I think that’s what Tony said. To be honest I wasn’t listening; apparently none of us ever do.

Joking apart, all the participants had spent a thoroughly enjoyable day at Lord’s and raised a few bob for The Dedanists’ Society in the process.

Booby’s Bay by Henry Darke, Finborough Theatre, 9 February 2018

Oh dear.

We found this one a real dud. Both the play and the production.

The subject matter really interested us. The housing crisis and the notion of a protester taking on the establishment…

…but this play missed the mark for us in so many ways. The protester was not only a flawed hero (that’s a good idea for such a play) but is in many ways a shirking beneficiary of the housing crisis. It is hard to buy into the conceit of a play when you find the moral hero at the core quite so conflicted and irritating.

Click here or image below for a link to the Finborough resource on this play/production.

The production had ideas beyond its ability to deliver too, with several long interludes of singing and movement that were almost embarrassing in their amateurishness. Janie struggled (failed) to avoid laughing in inappropriate places at times – the good news being that those were such noisy times, few if any other people would have noticed.

Another scene that really didn’t work for us…let’s call it the shark scene…had us laughing at the artlessness of the performance rather than at the material itself, which was meant to be comedic, but not in that way.

The good news for us was that we were both in a pretty relaxed mood on that Friday evening; this lemon of a play/production was so poor it almost entertained us to share that sorry experience and chat about it afterwards. Had we been in a stressy-end-of-the-week mood, having rushed to get to the theatre on time, we might have been far less amused.

Also, as we were just around the corner from Mohsen, we had a very tasty Persian meal to look forward to and then enjoy in Noddyland after the show.

Here is a link to the reviews, which have not been brilliant although some have been much kinder than ours.

We really do think it is a shame that this one was such a flop for us. We’re becoming very fond of the Finborough and we also both think that the subject matter – the housing and inequality crisis in our society, is a very relevant topic for theatrical treatment at the moment. Just not this play/production.

Here is a link to the trailer:

BOOBY’S BAY Trailer 1 from Henry Darke on Vimeo.