Once again, Flossie Pom-Pom, our pink flamingo, started her witchy preparations early……but she hadn’t counted on me nicking her hat this year. She was not well pleased.
Actually the traffic was so bad that early evening that, despite my early getaway from the flat, I arrived in Noddyland after the door-knocking had started, although it was not yet anything like in full sway.
Mostly small groups of little ones with their folks at first
Our local Japanese community turns out in force for Halloween. Indeed I saw a huge posse of Japanese kids with their parents heading up Princes Gardens as I drove past the road on arrival. I guessed that they’d get to our place within 45 minutes to an hour.
More or less on schedule, the larger groups arriveThere’s always one embarassing dad who goes over the top……at least I deploy my “dad dancing” in the privacy of our own home…& blogDaisy conks out at the end of a busy evening……or has she been spellbound by one of Wizard Ged’s fiendish potions???
The horror is to be continued, hopefully, next year.
If you want to see all the pictures, the Flickr link below delivers those:
I wondered whether I had been selected to play simply because the team needed a match reporter, rather than anything to do with my real tennis skills, as the request to report the match came hot on the heels of my selection that day.
Despite a rather embarassing spelling mistake in that inaugural piece, long since corrected, I have again been asked to report on the Dedanist’s Day, which included a Handicap Doubles Tournament, AGM and Dinner at Queen’s.
But I thought I should first write up my personal, some might say idiosynchratic, account of the day, here, on Ogblog.
Thanks to Carl Snitcher for the next four photographs (but not the video) following.
My doubles partner for the day, Tony Friend, arrivingMe, seated in match reporter repose, pen and paper in hand
The tournament included 32 players and played through four mini-leagues of four teams, so each team plays three short matches in the round robin phase. 25 minutes of play with a deciding point if the match was tied. Matches were played on a sliding handicap, which tends to make most matches very tight. The winner of each league qualified for the semi-finals.
The tournament therefore comprised 27 matches. Just as well Queen’s has two courts and books out both for more than six hours for the tournament.
Robin Faux & Michael Shellim, our first pair of opponents
Naturally, my match report will include the pun “Friend or Faux” when describing my first match. One wag also suggested that most of us play real tennis but Robin plays Faux tennis.
But I feel that, for the sake of the Ogblog readership, not all of whom are real tennis enthusiasts, I should cut to the chase and report simply on the single highlight of the day.
And what a chase that highlight was too.
Specifically, a chase of half a yard, which was set by Michael Shellim and can only beaten by landing better than half a yard or by hitting the ball into the dedans for an outright winner. The distances “half-a-yard” and “better-than-half-a-yard” relate to the proximity of the second bounce of the ball to the rear wall.
Most people would attempt to place the ball in the dedans gallery (quite a large target) rather than attempt to beat a chase of half-a-yard on the floor.
But I am not most people.
Also, to be honest, Robin Faux is an experienced enough server to apply heavy spin to his serve in circumstances such as this, in such a way that the dedans shot was well beyond my capabilities.
I simply did the best I could to bunt the spinning ball into the main wall corner, where Michael Shellim was waiting, most probably to allow the ball to bounce in some losing place (i.e. worse or significantly worse than half-a-yard).
My shot somehow contrived to lob with ideal weight and land its second bounce almost exactly in the nick:
Better-than-half-a-yard, wins the chase!
…came the cry from the marker, along with a small cheer from the handful of people in the dedans gallery and even from ultra-good sport Michael Shellim, who was undone by the shot.
Sadly there is no photographic or video record of this particular winning chase, but Janie has a short clip of video from a bout some moons ago, which is a similar bunty shot from a spinning serve. In that case the victim was Iain Harvey (also a Dedanist and one of this day’s semi-finalists) who, much like Michael Shellim, expressed good sporting appreciation of a successful shot – in this case setting half-a-yard.
Suffice it to say that the point won with my “shot of the day” chase was not sufficient for me and Tony to overcome Michael and Robin. We lost that bout, won our next bout and then, cruelly, in our third match, we lost on the very final point having levelled the score on the penultimate point.
Great experience for me, though, getting to play with and against several people most of whom are way above my pay grade. Fun too.
Me and Tony, barely able to contain our disappointment at the end
The remainder of the day is, again, reported at more length in the official report. A mostly pictorial summary follows. The photographs below are used with the kind permission of Frederika Adam www.frederikaadam.com
There was an AGM:
Then a dinner:
The waiter is named Attila and is actually Hungarian
Then an awards ceremony, during which I picked up the “shot of the day” Champaigne moment award:
Receiving my “shot of the day” award from Josh Farrell. Janie suggests I look a little tired and emotional in this picture.
It was a great fun day; a super way for me to meet and play with many friends of real tennis from around the country.
If you want to see all of the photos from the day, click the picture link below:
…as Stephen Wordsworth of Cara was one of the guests for lunch at the Old Bailey that day and asked me if I would like to attend O’Nora’s forthcoming evening. Of course I said yes.
Monday 28 October – Communication and Democracy in a Digital Age
Lectures steeped in Kantian philosophy are not exactly awash with soundbite takeaways, but one especially good thought did stick in my mind in takeaway fashion; Onora’s assertion that the post World-War Two switch from duties-based philosophies towards rights-based philosophies is proving unhelpful for matters such as regulating social media.
The near-monopolies that deploy/control social media fall back on rights such as freedom of expression, privacy and autonomy while abdicating responsibility for duties such as truthfulness, trustworthiness and consideration for the sensibility of others.
Onora maintained a largely pessimistic line of argument, both in her talk and through the lively question and answer session that followed. I do not share her long-term pessimism on this topic; I think new media tend to go through an unruly phase when they can be especially disruptive to society (by which I mean negatively disruptive) because society and individuals within society take time to adapt to the positive uses of the new media.
In short, as long as we don’t destroy ourselves as a society before the new media settle down, I think those media will settle down and be a force for good to a greater extent than a force for ill.
Still, a fascinating evening, with some food and drink for sustenance as well as for thought after the main event. I met some interesting people for the first time and re-established connections with some others I had met before, including, very briefly, Onora.
Tuesday 29 October 2019, Afternoon, The Old Bailey Court Five
Coincidentally, my return visit to The Old Bailey, to spend a little time seeing a case unfold, was the afternoon following the Onora O’Neill Lecture.
Even more coincidentally, the case I watched for 90 minutes or so was about disseminating terrorist publications through social media. The subject matter of the cases are a matter of public announcement and record, so here and below is a link to the listing for this day:
I watched with several of the people who had taken lunch with the judges that day, including Prue Leith (whom I had not met before) and Crispin Black (whom I had met before).
This was the first time I had sat in on a criminal trial in England; I did sit in on a case in New York some 30 years ago (to be Ogblogged in the fullness of time). It was fascinating for me to see an English criminal trial process at close hand, not least this particularly interesting trial.
There were several binders of material, mostly print-outs from the web, which were being outlined in opening statements that afternoon.
Without making any comment on the contents of those binders as evidence for this case itself, I found it unusually depressing (not a term I use lightly) to wade through the voluminous materials that had been printed out from the web to be used as evidence. I knew of such publications, of course, but had not actually seen, read or heard such materials before.
I also found myself thinking deeply about the lecture the evening before and Onora O’Neill’s pessimism about the impact that social media might have on our society if we do not find ways to regulate and curate such media towards good rather than ill. Despite my theoretical optimism (expressed above), the practical examples before me that afternoon allowed me little room for optimism for the rest of the day.
Tomorrow will be brighter, not least because I shall be spending the day in a very different type of court amongst friends.
Guilty…but only of poor technique
Despite it not making me feel good, I am very glad I went to The Old Bailey that day and that I have now experienced watching part of a trial unfold at close hand. I am grateful to Michael and his shrieval team for organising the visit for me.
Janie and I are a somewhat split jury on this one. I really enjoyed the play, finding it entertaining and suitably dramatic. The first half has a much lighter tone than the second. Janie found the first half rather silly and trivial, while she found the second half too long and ponderous.
If the reviews are anything to go by, I called this one “right”, but don’t tell Janie that. Here is a link to the reviews.
Janie and I were able to agree that the three young performers put in excellent performances. In particular Janie was surprised to learn that Khai Shaw has only just graduated from Rose Bruford, as he seemed so confident and assured in his performance. But all three performers – Anyebe Godwin and Rachel Nwokoro included, are relatively new to the stage yet pulled off superb, energetic performances.
I learn from the programme – which is also a helpful play text with another Kene play, Estate Walls, to read in my spare time – that Little Baby Jesus is actually an early work by Arinzé Kene. The play is being reworked at The Orange Tree some eight years after it was written and performed at the Ovalhouse Theatre. Interesting also that Kene originally worked on the piece with Chè Walker, whose Time Is Love/Tiempo es Amor we very much enjoyed at The Finborough a few months ago:
But returning to Little Baby Jesus, there are signs that it is an early work; I understand Janie’s sense that the first half is somewhat unstructured with the three performers introducing their main characters and also performing a lot of secondary characters to introduce the stories. I found it fun seeing that material unfold but Janie probably wasn’t the only person in the audience who found some of it confusing and the language, at times, hard to penetrate.
The second half has a completely different atmosphere, as the youngsters all, for different but in each case tragic (or potentially tragic) reasons, need to grow up in a hurry.
As is often the case with youthful playwrights (Kene was in his early 20s still when he wrote this piece – what a great sign of burgeoning talent) I could see a little too clearly where some of his ideas came from. Structurally, I was reminded of Faith Healer by Brian Friel. And surely the most shocking scene in the second half, when the youths find an abandoned baby, is partly based on and deliberately reminiscent of Saved by Edward Bond.
But this is the way that fine young writers find their own voice and Arinzé Kene surely has a fascinating voice with colourful stories to tell. I highly commend this production of Little Baby Jesus and I shall surely be looking out for his Kene’s work again.
Possibly a little unfair, then, for me to watch a clip of Ingrid Bergman as Bella and then, a few minutes later, watch Jemima Murphy play the part live. Jemima’s own fault for sending me that link, I suppose.
I had only ever seen Gaslight in its movie forms before – there was also a 1940 British film version directed by Thorold Dickinson (Alfred Hitchcock didn’t make a Gaslight, although many a pundit thinks he did) – but Gaslight is probably more suited as a theatre work than as a film. In any case, Jemima Murphy in particular did well as Bella in the “intimate but not claustrophobic” setting of a 100-or-so seater theatre.
ALL PHOTOS BY WILLIAM WATERWORTH – Jordan Wallace as Jack and Jemima Murphy as Bella
Patrick Hamilton is, for me, a frustrating writer. His novels are intriguing, well-written and have become far better known latterly than during his lifetime, when they mostly flopped. He made his dosh from more crowd-pleasing, melodramatic fare for the theatre; not least Rope and Gaslight.
…yes, but I only Ogblogged it a couple of years ago.
But despite my low expectations from Patrick Hamilton as a playwright, First Floor’s production of Gaslight strangely worked for me.
I’m not sure if the script has been cut; I’m guessing that it has and quite rightly so, if the play was originally as long as most 1930s numb-bum-fests. But in any case the directing and acting focused well on the psychological elements of the play, leaving the melodrama and weak crime thriller plot mercifully in the background.
It is, after all, the psychological elements of this play that give it enduring relevance. Gaslighting has become a verb in psychological parlance, increasingly used to describe the several forms of domestic, mental abuse depicted in the piece and sadly all too common in our society.
Just imagine if the term Ogblogging were to become a verb? At least that would be positive rather than negative activity. I don’t think anyone has ever felt trolled by an Ogblog reference.
But I digress. Gaslight.
Rough justice? Jemima Murphy as Bella with Joe McArdle as Rough
Fine supporting work especially from Joe McArdle as Rough, Rebecca Ashley as Elizabeth and Grace Howard as Nancy. In truth Jordan Wallace seemed under-powered for his role as Jack in the first act; I suspect the young actor was very nervous at the start of press night. The slow start in the first act is not helped by the script, but it is quite a short act (there are four) and the piece warms up quite quickly. Jordan Wallace came into his own in the final act, during which his bullying became more sinister and…
***SPOILER ALERT***
…Jack’s comeuppance worked very well. The final act was far and away the highlight for me, with all of the performers well warmed up and neatly directed.
Writer and performer Sabrina Mahfouz pulls no punches in blaming colonial powers past and present for many of the Middle East’s woes. While taking care to avoid attacking particular Middle-Eastern peoples, her lens does therefore focus almost exclusively on colonial interests without considering the intra-Middle-Eastern proxy wars and conflicts that surely also play a major part in the multifarious problems in that region.
But it would be impossible to be historically comprehensive and profoundly nuanced in a 70 minute piece that also seeks to entertain as well as inform. This piece does both with aplomb.
Along with Sabrina Mahfouz, highly talented multi-instrumentalist musician/composer Kareem Samara, plus excellent performers Laura Hanna (who sings magnificently) and David Mumeni (who doesn’t), have pulled off a superb performance piece.
At one point Mumeni sings, karaoke-style, a Suez Canal version of Sweet Caroline that would have worked in NewsRevue had that show started in 1956 rather than 1979. Personally I’d have tidied up some of the scansion, but we’ll let that pass; I suspect the scansion deficiencies were deliberate, for effect. Laura Hanna’s operatic-style aria for an heroic female plumber in Jordan 30 years hence was also an absolute highlight for me.
But despite the fun aspects, the piece is also about that troubled region and impending crises. While campaigners of the Extinction Rebellion kind might be accused of exaggerating for effect, this piece points out, accurately, that Yemen is already one of the most profound humanitarian crises the world has ever seen and that is before that sorry nation runs out of water; an imminent disaster with little sign of any redress.
There was so much going on in this piece, Janie and I were both grateful for the playtext-style programme so we could/can read bits of the text on reflection and in discussion.
At the time of writing (the day after we saw the show), there are still some tickets available for the Royal Court run. Here is a link that finds reviews and the like. We hope this piece gets a transfer and thus a wider audience. It is intelligent, informative, entertaining and witty. We’d recommend this piece/production highly.
One of the many wonderful things about real tennis is that every court is significantly different and each has an interesting history and prevailing culture.
Before this week, I had tried seven courts other than my home court at Lord’s. This week I lost my virginity on three more courts. That takes my tally up to eleven. There are fewer than 50 active courts in the world.
10th October 2019: The Hamsters v The Dedanists, Hampton Court Palace
I was honoured to be selected to debut for The Dedanists in this fixture. This selection could only possibly be to do with the progress I am making with my skills at tennis, so the request that came through shortly after my selection; “would you mind also being the match reporter for this match?” was clearly a coincidental, additional honour.
Me and Dedanist doubles partner James McDermott: with thanks to Carl Snitcher for several photographs from that day, not least those that depict me.
I arranged to give Dedanist team captain Carl Snitcher a lift to and from the match, which enabled Carl to concentrate on vital captaincy duties (such as enjoying some wine with the oppo) and gave us both a chance to have very pleasant conversations to and from the match.
Alastair Robson fizzes the ball over the net while Carl Snitcher guards Henry VIII
In true Harris match report style, you can learn vital details about the food and beverage, not just the tennis.
Iain Harvey larking aboutIan Harris marking a bout
I even got to mark the final rubber of the match; another first for me. I rather enjoyed that role. In fact, I enjoyed every bit of that day at Hampton Court Palace.
14 October 2019: Leamington Tennis Court Club
Janie and I had arranged a short trip to Stratford-Upon-Avon to see A Museum In Baghdad, so I put out some feelers to see if I could arrange some tennis at one or both of the clubs nearby. Real tennis folk are incredibly welcoming, so it was with great ease (on my own part) that I quickly had arrangements to try both.
On the Monday; Leamington, thanks to Alastair Robson.
Arriving at Leamington; thanks to Janie for the pictures and vidsPeter & I prepare to serve, Johnny looks on, Alastair is hazard-end bound
We had a very enjoyable game of doubles. Peter was an excellent partner to have on an alien court; full of praise when things went well for me and full of patience on the many occasions I ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. He, Alastair and Johnny clearly play for the enjoyment of the sport, the exercise and the social side of it.
All five of us enjoyed a good lunch at Gusto, about three minutes walk from the club. Between snapping and chomping, Janie did a bit of shopping in Leamington while waiting for us to finish playing. According to Janie, Monday lunchtime shopping in Leamington is currently an even more rarefied activity than real tennis.
15 October 2019: Moreton Morrell Tennis Court Club
John Franklin very kindly arranged for me to play at that other Midlands real tennis court/club; Moreton Morrell. So Janie and I diverted/stopped off there on the way home from Stratford.
Parking Up Dumbo Outside Moreton Morrell
Built in 1905, a wealthy American member of Leamington resolved his differences with that long-established club by building his own court and starting his own club on his country estate.
John welcomes me to MoretonMoreton’s variant of the Hampton Court scoring abacus
While the Leamington surface is as bouncy as I have encountered, the Moreton Morrell surface is even less bouncy than Lord’s…
…but if you hit one of the cracks on the surface anything might happen:
John and I had a very good game. We pretty much always have a very good game; the handicapping system doing its job with precision. A one-set-all draw, as indeed was the doubles fixture in Leamington the previous day.
John, Janie and I went on to the Lighthorne Pavilion Cafe for lunch; a charming place nearby, suitably based at a local cricket club but open all year round. A very pleasant environment in which to unwind, eat and chat after a game of tennis.
So there it went; my virginity on three real tennis courts, now lost for ever; but I didn’t lose any of the matches and I do very much hope to play on all three courts again.
Playwright Hannah Khalil explains her thinking behind the piece here:
The following trailer explains little but does give a flavour of the atmospheric music and sensescape of the piece:
Janie and I loved the play/production and came away from the show buzzing from the quality of ideas, drama, sounds and emotions we experienced at The Swan.
Janie tends to dislike plays that overlap time periods (this play is set in 1926 and 2006) and mess with the linear telling of stories, not least because she often finds that confusing. But this one works so well and certainly worked for her, such that the overlapping of the two time-settings just added a little to the chaos of the situations being depicted, without interfering with the narrative line.
The production runs at The Swan for a few months before transferring to the Kiln in London. We have not yet been to the latter since its refurb, so wonder how well the piece will work there. It certainly worked wonderfully for us in the three-sided Swan setting. It certainly should appeal to Kiln audiences.
All of the acting was top notch, as was the design, sound and movement. Hard to single out performances, but Emma Fielding, Rendah Heywood and Rasoul Saghir were exceptional.
We were grateful to be staying just across the road in The Arden, as the heavens were in open mode that evening. We debriefed over a snack supper there. I believe I spotted Mark Ravenhill with his entourage, amongst the small number of people who decamped to the hotel after the show.
We loved A Museum In Baghdad – what else is there to say?
Less well known is that Jacquie Briegal’s place is also the centre of international netball when Clare Briegal has federation matters to transact in London.
This year, unusually, Mark and Clare joined in person rather than via video link. It was great to see them both as it had been a while. Regulars Hilary, Michael, me and Janie were there, as were latter-day regulars Sonia, Josh and Melody.
Josh established a new tradition for the herring fest; hailing in the festival with a lengthy blow of the rams horn. I only captured the last 10 seconds or so of the blow, but it was a longer blow than that:
Michael arrived fashionably late, as usual, being the only one amongst us who actually observes Yom Kippur. But this year Janie was last of all, as she was on a reiki course that day.
Soon after Janie arrived, we discussed cricket and discovered that Clare knows David Kendix well through his involvement with netball rankings as well as cricket ones.
Clare was suitably outspoken in the matter of my Championship tie
But let us get down to matters herring.
Jacquie had promised not to overdo it this year, but her underdone spread seems quite similar to her overdone spread.
Only four herrings competed for the coveted prize, though.
They were supplemented by chopped herring, egg and onion (Mark’s favourite food for the purposes of denigration rather than eating), several smoked salmon plates, fried fish balls, several salads and plentiful bread, including Mark’s home made challah, which was superb.
[Insert your own joke/pun on the theme of Mark being the bread winner in the Briegal household here]
Melody was concerned that I wasn’t writing down the results of my herring tastings, which, she said, gave her the lack of confidence she usually reserves for waiters who write nothing down and then mess up your restaurant order.
Quite right, Melody, for the results of the herring fest have totally escaped my mind this time and are therefore lost to all posterity…
…only kidding. I wrote down the results when Melody wasn’t looking.
Silver Herring 2019: sweet cure;
Gold Herring 2019: for the second year running, shmaltz.
Exceptional Schmaltz Herring in 2018.
As always, the evening was a lovely opportunity to catch up with the cousinhood and have a fishy, festive gathering. Jacquie, you’re a star!
This is not the first time I have won a quarter-final of something, but it is my first time getting through to a semi-final at real tennis. On this occasion, the H.D. Johns Doubles Tournament.
Sadly there is no video footage of the epic fives quarter-final battle between me and John Eltham, whereas the real tennis quarter-final has been videoed for all posterity…or at least until someone decides to clear down the MCC Real Tennis YouTube archive…
…that clear down must have happened quite soon after the match. I shall scrape the videos/highlights in future if I think they are worth preserving.
It resulted 6-1, 6-4.
Can Dominic and I progress on through the semi-final (next month) to finals day in December? That would be a unique achievement. We’ll try our very best.
