Pass Time With Good Company, With “All Good Sports” For A Few Days, Mid October 2022

Rohan “Candy” Candappa & David Wellbrook

Violets & Fatt Pundit With Mark Ellicott, Simon Jacobs & John White, 17 October 2022

For some reason we were all being too grown up to take photos, but this was a special get together reuniting people who had all known each other at Keele for one reason or another.

I had re-engaged by e-mail with Mark Ellicott during the latter stages of the pandemic while writing my “Forty Years On” series, not least to compare notes over Princess Margaret debacles, a cricket match for which I got picked for the craziest of Ellicott-induced reasons and more recently some exchanges over playlists (or, as we used to call them, mix tapes) from 1982.

Mark Ellicott (right), next to Neil Baldwin of Marvellous fame, 2016

In particular the musical aspects intrigued Simon Jacobs, who wondered out loud to me why I hadn’t set up a get-together with Mark.

Simon, in 2019, trying to make a silk purse out of my (then) sow’s ear voice

Actually, John said something similar when I shared my Mark correspondence with him when we met up in the summer. I had no excuse, so I felt duty bound to act.

John questioning my judgement with his eyes and body language, August 2022

I booked a table at Fatt Pundit in Berwick Street and chose Violet’s as a suitable close-by bar for us to meet for a pre-dinner drink.

I played tennis at Lord’s – a draw at singles seeing as you were going to ask – before hot-footing it (via the flat) to Soho.

I arrived at Violet’s, grabbing a table – just inside but suitably quasi-open to the street – about five minutes before Simon arrived. From that vantage point, we observed Mark walk straight past us and then four or five minutes later he returned having got as confused as everyone else by the Berwick Street door-numbering. John arrived fashionably but not ridiculously last.

We had a good chat and a drink at Violet’s before heading a block or two up the road to Fatt Pundit, where the food was excellent and the chat got even better.

A few comedy moments with the sweet waitress whose high-pitched voice is possibly in a register that none of us, given our advancing years, could hear. But the menu was pretty-much self-explanatory, so a mixture of sign language, reading the menu and common sense allowed us to order a cracking good meal.

It was a really enjoyable four-way catch up.

Goldmine With Rohan Candappa & David Wellbrook, 18 October 2022

This gathering was originally conceived in Soho when Rohan and I met for dim sum a couple of months ago:

It was basically a “barbeque meats challenge” based on my assertion that the Queensway specialists therein, especially Goldmine, are better than those in Chinatown.

It turned into a small-scale Alleyn’s School alum thing. David Wellbrook, being Wellbrook, needed to join in the challenge, not least because Queensway is an alma mater of his where he attended the University of Romance (his wife used to live there when they were courting).

We tucked into plenty of barbeque meats, diverting briefly at the start and end of the lunchtime feast for some dim sum, just in the interests of science.

At school Rohan Candappa was always known as Candy, so it was with great mirth and merriment that David spotted “Candy World” across the street.

Rohan Candappa’s world

After lunch, we retreated to my flat where I showed the lads my centennial family relic, on what was, after all, its century day.

Hamsters v Dedanists At Hampton Court Palace, 20 October 2022

Almost everything that needs to be said about this match is contained in my match report on the Dedanists web site – here…or perhaps best to read it from the scrape here, scraped before the current piece drops down the running order.

For those who don’t like to click and/or who don’t want all the tennis detail – here is an extract:

“It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall,” said your intrepid reporter to Carl Snitcher, having braved the 3.5 mile high-pass journey from Notting to Primrose Hill in just over 35 minutes.

“There’s a bad moon on the rise,” agreed Carl, gnomically.

We arrived at a rain-soaked Hampton Court Palace in the nick of time; just as well, as your intemporal reporter was playing in the first rubber. Some might argue that our arrival was actually “worse than two”, but a more substantial discrepancy soon revealed itself; the marker’s sheet was showing a lesser handicap for the Dedanists than the sheet that James McDermott & I had been sent.

In order to avoid a major diplomatic incident, James & I acquiesced to the lesser handicap, yet still somehow contrived to win our rubber, albeit narrowly…

McDermott hitting, me watching

On finally staggering away from the court, your incognizant reporter picked up a message that the Prime Minister had resigned. “That’s the second Liz whose expiration has been announced while I was on the real tennis court in the space of six weeks”, I mused, having been informed of the late Queen’s demise by Tony Friend while I was on the Lord’s court.

I thought I might be the tidings-bringer this time, only to discover that most of the group had learnt the demise of Liz Truss some 45 minutes earlier.

Anyway, this was no time to ponder the fate of shambolic politicians – it was time to tuck into the pies before they too were to become a footnote in history. A positive footnote in the case of the pies of course – once again a delicious choice of
• Chicken Ham & Leek;
• Steak & Ale.

Bread and cheese (yes please) and two species of yummy desert that self-discipline allowed me to avoid, along with the jolly wines on offer…

Pictures by Tony Friend

There’s no better way to lift the spirits on a gloomy, worrisome day than a day of pastance with Dedanists and Hamsters. Symbolically, as the nation’s political shenanigans moved on to its new phase, the heavy clouds and rain of the morning had lifted to reveal a gorgeously bright, sunny evening as we all left.

“So foul and fair a day I have not seen”, said Carl, gnomically, as I dropped him home.

“Pass time with good company”, I replied.

The Only Known Relic Of Grandpa Harris Reaches Its Hundredth Birthday, October 2022

This summer, while taking a voyage around the Harris Family’s earliest steps in the UK…

…I was acutely aware that we only have one actual relic of Grandpa Harris: the large certificate of honour depicted in the headline picture. We do not even have a surviving photograph of him – he died in the early 1940s – all such things were disposed of when Grandma moved out of the family home (104 Clapham Common Northside) in the 1960s.

I suspect that the certificate only survived because of its religious significance and the lingering, somewhat superstitious sense that such a thing should not simply be destroyed.

It lived at the back of my dad’s shop for at least a quarter of a century – then it lived in our Woodfield Avenue attic for another quarter of a century.

Mum nearly (accidentally) gave it away when dad died, but I managed to rescue it thanks to the good offices of Michael and Tessa Laikin who in any case hadn’t quite believed that I wanted shot of it, even if mum did.

It was in a pretty shocking state by the time I took it to Janie’s favourite picture framer in Bayswater, who declared the artefact to be on the verge of disintegration and recommended a specialist restorer to preserve it and bring it back to life before framing.

Several weeks and several hundred pounds later, it has pride of place on the hall wall in my flat.

The stunning, large certificate (60 x 45 cm unframed, 75 x 60 cm framed) commemorates my grandfather being honoured in the synagogue as Chatan Torah on the festival of Simchat Torah on 14/15 October 1922 – now 100 years ago. Or, in Hebrew calendar terms, 17/18 October 2022 is exactly 100 years after the event.

As it happens and by strange coincidence, Janie and I found ourselves on 15 October this year just around the corner from 14 Manette Street, which is the building which was, back then, the West End Talmud Torah & Bikkur Holim Synagogue.

I couldn’t resist the urge to walk around the corner and photograph the very building on the very 100th anniversary of Grandpa’s honour:

14 Manette Street, Soho as snapped by me, 15 October 2022

Religion isn’t my thing, but it was my grandparent’s thing and this honour would have been one of the most notable moments in my grandfather’s (relatively short) life.

That Soho synagogue – the West End Talmud Torah and Bikkur Holim was a rather fascinating and controversial thing, if Gerry Black’s Living Up West book is anything to go by (which it is…go buy it if you are interested). He describes it as an

orthodox and shtetl-like shule [synagogue, where comparatively] …the service, rabbi, and fervid atmosphere were more typical of the heim [the old country].

This shtetl style apparently emanated from the “larger than life” Rabbi at the place, Rabbi Zvi Hirsch Ferber, who hailed from Kovno (Kaunas) – which is, coincidentally the Lithuanian part from which my mother’s Marcus family hailed.

There are some wonderful passages in Living Up West about that Rabbi; I do remember my father talking about him as a formidable figure, even though my father was still quite small when the family moved away from Fitzrovia/Soho. Intriguingly also, the book reports that, by 1926, the congregation had grown so large that they needed to hire The Scala Theatre in Charlotte Street for overflow services.

Living Up West also has an astonishing, detailed account in it about the 1930 AGM and elections in that community that

…were on the point of coming to blows…

…Ultimately the meeting broke up in chaos and confusion.

I am minded to write more about that strange community, not least because those detailed accounts include the names that appear on Grandpa’s certificate.

But at the moment, 100 years on, we get more than enough such chaos and confusion from a more southerly part of Westminster. In any case my purpose today is really to commemorate my Grandpa’s big day in 1922.

Marvellous by Neil Baldwin & Malcolm Clarke, @sohoplace, 15 October 2022

It’s not every day that Janie and I go to the opening night of a west end run that is itself the opening night of a brand new theatre. In fact, @sohoplace is the first new build theatre to open in London’s West End in the last 50 years, making this quite possibly a “once in a lifetime opportunity” to attend such an event.

In fact, this world premier production of Marvellous was first aired at the New Vic in Newcastle-Under-Lyme earlier this year, to rave reviews which are touted in big letters on the @sohoplace website, where information about the autumn 2022 west end run can be found.

Marvellous is based on the true story of Neil Baldwin (click here for Wikipedia entry), an uncomplicated, happy soul who, in 1960, wandered through the gates of Keele University as a local teenager and found a safe space there to bring his dreams to reality. Those dreams mostly involve football and/or meeting famous people. As a result, Neil has been honoured with a British Empire Medal, freedom of the cities of Stoke-on-Trent & Newcastle-Under-Lyme, an honorary degree from Keele, plus, first (and possibly best) of all, since 1968, honorary life membership of Keele University Students’ Union.

Neil never had a formal role at Keele, neither staff nor student, whereas some of us actually did the “hard yards”…OK they weren’t all that hard…for our accolades. I arrived at Keele 20 years after Neil’s teenage adventure started and was still there five years later when we (by which I mean the Students’ Union) voted at a UGM to deem 1985 The Neil Baldwin Jubilee Year. I find myself juxtaposed with Neil in the Concourse article reporting that meeting:

Reading the above article, it seems that Mark Ellicott, who was the Speaker at that 1985 UGM, curtailed the discussion on the proposal to name 1985 “The Neil Baldwin Jubilee Year” at Keele, by suggesting that anyone who might vote against the proposal would be:

a nasty individual.

I suspect the proposal was approved by acclamation.

Mark might remember. Coincidentally, I am due to see Mark on 17 October (just two days after seeing the show) and additionally coincidentally he is now running the Outernet music venue just opposite @sohoplace.

Indeed, it is through my sustained Keele connections that Janie and I ended up @sohoplace on the opening night, having spotted on the Keele alumni FB postings that the show was transferring to the West End. I managed to grab a brace of good seats for the opening night, which felt like the right thing to do. Why wait any longer than that?

We got to @sohoplace ludicrously early. We wanted to have a look around this new theatre, which we did, but you don’t really need best part of an hour to do that.

Still, we got to chat with some of the lovely staff at this new theatre who were “beyond excited” about their opening night and some of them were even more excited than that when they learnt that I had known Neil at Keele all those years ago. I told them to expect a fair number of Keele alums during the run, because Keele alums are a bit like that.

We really were ludicrously early

We enjoyed our ludicrously earliness in the charming new space, until the theatre bell went. At that point, of course, our carefully chosen end seats (we’re seasoned theatre-in-the-round types, me and Janie, e.g. at The Orange Tree Theatre, so we know to go for those) meant that we had to make way for more or less everyone.

The place seemed pretty full, possibly completely full, as the show was about to begin. I think I spotted Malcolm Clarke himself in the audience (he’s a big fella) but other than that I didn’t recognise any Keele alums, although I’d guess there were a few others there.

What should I say about the play and production itself?

The play is, in a way, an adaptation of the BAFTA-Award-winning film Marvellous (2014), which was itself a post-modern biopic about Neil’s extraordinary life, in which Toby Jones played the part of Neil, while Neil himself also appeared in the film.

The conceit of the play is that six actors have gathered to workshop/depict Neil’s life, only to be interrupted by “the real Neil” (actor Mike Hugo, whose voice was unerringly Neil-like). Some of the actors are seeking meaning and metaphor from Neil’s story, threatening at times to declaim profound monologues, while “the real Neil” finds ways to steer the telling as a rollicking, fun-packed yarn.

Thus the Keele graduate (along with my broad-based-foundation-year-underpinned education) in me would describe the piece as a post-postmodern (or perhaps I should say metamodern) bildungsroman exploring the life and times of Neil Baldwin…

…whereas Neil would no doubt describe it as:

a funny play about me, to make people happy.

There are no shocks or unexpected plot twists in this play. Indeed the play version has straightened out the time-line of Neil’s life, whereas the film was deliberately vague about time-lines, darting back and forth in time on occasion. This “story straightening” makes the play much easier to follow but in some ways over-simplifies.

For example, the play’s timeline implies that Neil went off to the circus in 1980 and returned to North Staffordshire at the end of the 1980s. The truth of the matter is that his circus career, which the play rightly depicts as an environment in which Neil was repeatedly subjected to mistreatment, must have been a stop-start career with quite lengthy periods of return to his family home and Keele throughout the 1980s – certainly the early to mid 1980s when I was at Keele.

But that is detail.

Most importantly, the play tells its mostly heart-warming, comedic tale with verve and light-hearted spirit. The production is excellent and the performances were mostly pitch-perfect (did you see what I did there with a football pun?).

I was especially taken with Suzanne Ahmet’s depiction of Neil’s mum (Gemma Jones’s film shoes being hard ones to fill) and I commend Gareth Cassidy’s comedy timing, in particular when depicting characters with a huge variety of accents, sometimes having to change articulatory-tack at alarming speed.

Yes, some of the comedy tended towards slapstick or pantomime style, but this is the story of Neil Baldwin, a man who spent much of his career as a clown. The sillier aspects of the play were well-bounded and skilfully delivered. Oh yes they were. Oh yes they were.

Best of all, the audience was absolutely carried by Marvellous on that opening night and I sense that almost everyone left @sohoplace feeling happier than they felt on arrival. As the man himself would say,

that’s marvellous.

Josquin’s Legacy, The Gesualdo Six, Wigmore Hall, 10 October 2022

The Gesualdo Six photo by Sprague-Coolidge, CC BY-SA 4.0

The Gesualdo Six is a wonderful Renaissance choir. However, I had a numerical problem with its promotional material when I first saw them in 2018…

…which seems to be unresolved despite my pleas. The publicity material for The Gesualdo Six regularly shows seven people.

I’m not really one to talk, having recently been part of a six-person works-outing winning quiz combo known as “The FS Club 7”. But readers, many of whom are early music lovers, will surely know that the name is not a numerical claim, but a pun on the early music (i.e. some of it released even before the turn of the 21st century) pop combo, S Club 7.

But it is not my purpose in this piece to “bring it all back” in the matter of S Club 7’s ancient exploits, but rather to assess the wonderful world of Josquin’s Legacy, as sung by The Gesualdo Six.

While Josquin’s mostly late 15th century music formed the core of the concert, there were also pieces by his contemporaries, Jean Mouton & Antoine Brumel, plus several works by lesser known composers who followed a generation or so later.

It was a mixture of sacred music (both new and old testament liturgy) plus several regret/deploration pieces commemorating the death of fellow composers or patrons.

Here is a link to The Gesualdo’s promo vid for the album which this concert was surely (in part) aiming to help promulgate.

Here is a link to the Wigmore Hall concert programme.

The concert was a BBC Lunchtime concert, which, if you are reading this within a month of the broadcast, can still be heard on the BBC Sounds App – here.

The Wigmore Hall also streamed this one, so you can watch and listen here.

This was Janie’s first opportunity to see/hear The Gesualdo Six live and she was much taken with the group.

The Gesualdo Six: great with singing, not so special when it comes to numbers.”

Not too bad a tag line.

The Mysterious Motet Book of 1539, Siglo De Oro, Wigmore Hall, 8 October 2022

The concert and talk were partly promoting this album – naturally we obliged on the day.

We attended this very tasty lunchtime concert and pre-concert discussion.

The noon-time discussion was between Patrick Allies, the artistic director of Siglo De Oro and Dr Daniel Trocmé-Latter, the academic whose work on the context and musical transcription of this “Mysterious Motet Book of 1539″initiated the project.

I found the information about the development of part books as printing became widespread in the Renaissance and the distinction between Protestant and Catholic liturgical music at the time of the Reformation fascinating.

“Cantiones quinque vocum selectissimae,” CRIM, accessed October 8, 2022, https://ricercar.crim.cesr.univ-tours.fr/items/show/3366

Less convincing, to me, was the “mystery” aspect of the project, the conceit of which is, if I might paraphrase, “why might a publisher such as Peter Schöffer the Younger choose to publish a music book of Latin liturgical songs from Milan…in Strasbourg, which was, by 1539, a strongly Protestant town?”

It is well documented that King Ferdinand of Germany granted Schöffer a specific privilege to publish these works. Further, as Daniel Trocmé-Latter himself states in his book on the Singing of Strasbourg Protestants, Schöffer dedicates the publication to Ferdinand with a glowing dedication listing the King’s many titles and exalting him. It seems reasonable to guess that King Ferdinand wanted Schöffer to publish this work in Strasbourg and that Schöffer might have received some favour or favours from the King for doing so.

Keep King Ferdy onside for goodness sake

I was most excited when I worked out that King Ferdinand I was the great-great-great-great grandson of Philip The Bold, whose musical adventures I had been scouring and talking about only a few weeks ago:

Much like his illustrious Burgundian ancestors, Ferdinand seems to have been interested in tennis as well as music. Ferdinand was also evidently impressed by Milanese cultural style in several ways, not just liturgical music. He was also, reputationally, a conciliator between Protestants and the Catholics in his lands.

Still, if the purpose of promoting this music as “a mysterious publication” is as conduit for wonderful concerts and premier recordings of several of the pieces form the motet book…bring it on! It’s a thriller.

Here is a link to the concert programme.

The music in the concert was lovely. Janie and I both loved it. They mixed and matched between motets from that 1539 book and some more familiar, later pieces, e.g. by Byrd and Tallis, by way of contrast and comparison, which worked well musically.

Siglo de Oro don’t put much in the public domain, but the sample below is downloadable from the website plugging the album, so you might as well hear Johannes Lupi: Apparens Christus below before you click through and buy the almum.

Lovely, eh?

Enough rabbit from me – it’s time to eat some dinner and listen to that lovely CD we bought as we left the Wigmore Hall.

London Cricket Trust 2022 Awards, Southwark Park, 4 October 2022

To Southwark Park – not to queue for a Royal view, but for the London Cricket Trust Awards 2022.

The event was held four weeks later than intended; not deferred for the Royal mourning, but because 6 September, the original date for the event, was a rare “cats and dogs rainy day” in the 2022 London summer.

We now have 62 live cricket facilities in London parks, with 15 more on the schedule to be ready for the start of the 2023 season.

We had a planning meeting in the Southwark Park Pavilion before the public event.

Ed Griffiths and his team had produced a glorious carrot cake for the awards event, emblazoned with 62 flags to represent the 62 sites already implemented.

Ian Moore of the ECB looks happy, but Arfan Akram of Essex looks concerned

I spotted Arfan’s concerned look and realise that the cake was oriented 45 degrees askew from the direction in which the symbolic Middlesex, Essex, Kent, Surrey flags were pointing.

I reoriented the cake, much to everyone’s relief.

We also discussed our plans for expanding the London Cricket Trust universe over the next couple of years, including a fairly major incursion into Crawley, Sussex (at Sussex and the ECB’s request I hasten to add).

Crawley is the 33rd London Borough – remember where you heard it first.

Then to the awards evening and some exhibition cricket on the Southwark Park pitch – a six-a-side match between Southwark Park Cricket Club and Southwark Park Cricket Club – the clever money was on Southwark Park to win.

This particular batsman was a “six or out” sort of character, who heaved a couple of big shots our way and then missed a deceptively straight ball and got cleaned up. The bowler was so surprised by his own achievement, he even looked to the umpire for “the finger” on a clean bowled

Then Ed Griffiths initiated the awards ceremony, in some ways apologising for the lack of “Grosvenor Hotel / Dorchester Hotel” glitz and glamour, while at the same time celebrating our more down to earth style and purpose.

Ed letting rip about our love of parks ahead of posh hotel ballrooms

Max Holden of Middlesex, one of the eight cricketer-ambassadors from the four LCT counties, attended but somehow managed to evade the cameras at the event.

I am delighted to report that the emblematic carrot cake was properly oriented in the refreshments tent by this stage of the evening.

Then the awards.

Chris Whitaker, the Kent Trustee, presented an activation award to Richard O’Sullivan of Teach Cricket, in particular for his work with Bexley Grammar School.

Then Sophie Kent (our Surrey Trustee…just to avoid confusion) presented a Local Authority activation award to the Royal Borough of Kingston-Upon Thames for activating five sites in 2022:

Cricketer-ambassador Bryony Smith picked up the award on Kingston’s behalf

Then Jawar Ali, our Essex Trustee, presented a site award to Grassroots Trust for their work at Seven Kings Park – a site that has gone from strength to strength since we had our first launch there, exactly four years ago:

Finally, it was down to me to award the Local Authority of the Year Award to Enfield, for the superb cluster of four sites implemented in the spring of 2022 in the Edmonton (south-eastern) corner of Enfield – Pymmes Park, Jubilee Park, Ponders End Park and Church Street Rec – neighbourhoods with many people but (until now) almost no public cricket facilities:

Tim Harrison collecting his award from your truly

Given the 14th century origins of Pymmes Park, I did consider bursting into 14th century song, but at the vital moment I felt a wave of pre-minstrel tension, thus sparing the ears of the audience.

Recycling should apply to comedy material as well as cricketing materials

The evening was a great opportunity to meet up with those we see regularly as part of our cricket charity work along with some of the (usually) unsung heroes whose hard work actually makes the stuff we plan happen.

62 sites is great news, but we aim at least to double that figure, which will mean lots more work, as well as more enjoyable events like this one, over the next few years.

A Gloriously Quizzical Evening In The City, 27 September 2022

I don’t do much team quizzing.

Occasionally I make guest appearances, when invited by people who assume that I have an encyclopaedic mind for the types of information that oft come up in quiz questions. Such people usually end up disappointed and don’t invite me again. Here’s a link to an example of such a day/event.

But a Z/Yen charity quiz team is different, I suppose. The quizzing equivalent of cricket matches where I am an automatic pick for the team, not based on aptitude but because the game needs my bat and my ball.

Actually, over the years, for City Giving Day, the Z/Yen quiz team has come quite close a couple of times.

This year we went more than one better, contriving to win the event, not just against the other eleven teams at our venue, but even across all the venues in London. What a team.

I wrote this triumph up for the Z/Yen website. If you really want to know all about it – click here.

Z/Yen’s “FS Club 7” team: Me, Charlotte (c), Andrew, Juliet (mvp), Tyler & Libby. Six people in the team, but we sat at table seven. For older readers, the name is a pun on “S Club 7“, which was a popular music combo, I am reliably informed.

On the way out, I spotted a strange effigy which I photographed and wrote up for the King Cricket website:

If anything ever goes awry with King Cricket, you can read a scrape of that piece here.

A Tribute To Mike Hodd, Founder Of NewsRevue, September 2022

Mike Hodd – photo by John Burns (Random), taken in 2010 at an Ivan Shakespeare Dinner at Cafe Rouge, Maida Vale

Since 1992, NewsRevue has been part of my life. For the first several years, in the 1990s, as a writer for (and regular attender at) the show. Latterly, through the enduring friendships and sense that “NewsRevue Writing Alum” is an integral part of my identity.

I explained much of this in a piece I wrote three years ago for the 40th anniversary of the show:

I, together with countless others who have been involved with the show over the decades, owe a huge debt of gratitude to Mike Hodd, who died on 19 September 2022.

Mike Hodd was one of the founders of NewsRevue in 1979. But Mike’s role went way beyond founding. By the time I came along, 12 and a half years later, Mike wrote little if anything for the show himself. But Mike was a regular presence as a mentor and friend to those who were or had been involved with the show.

Mike gave me lots of encouragement when I first started writing for NewsRevue. Also beyond those early months. I especially remember Mike heaping praise on one of my songs, about Bill Clinton and his priapic nature:

I also remember Mike telling me that the above lyric reminded him of one of his own, presumably about some earlier licentious politician, which Mike had written to the tune of Son Of Hickory Holler’s Tramp by O C Smith. I recall Mike’s delight when I told him that I was familiar with that track and thought it suitable for such a song.

If anyone out there by chance has a copy of Mike’s “Hickory Holler’s Tramp” lyric, I (and no doubt many other NewsRevueistas) would love to see it.

John Random and I are currently excavating the Chris Stanton NewsRevue script archive. So far we have only recovered one “original Hodd” which i replicate below.

Just in case anyone reading this doesn’t remember the Karin B incident from 1988, it was an Italian barge loaded with hazardous waste bound for Nigeria, perceived by the public, once word of the practice leaked out, as a dodgy idea commercially, morally and environmentally.

Which brings me on to the other side of Mike Hodd, which was his actual career as a Professorial expert on development economics and the economics of corruption. Mike wore his incisive intelligence lightly and politely when discussing any topic, even those upon which he was an expert.

After I and my “NewsRevue Class of ’92” cohort stopped writing, we continued meeting up regularly for Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinners, which Mike Hodd would quite often join.

Thus Mike became a mentor in ways other than comedy. Indeed, in the correspondence following the above 2009 gathering, Random described him as Mike “MaHoddma” Ghandi.

Mike was exceptionally generous in his mentoring. When I mentioned in passing in late 2005 that Janie and I would be going to Ethiopia on holiday soon, Mike asked me if I had read Remote People by Evelyn Waugh, which at that time I had not. The next time I saw Mike, he slipped a copy into my hand.

Thanks to Mike, a proud possession which I read avidly then and at times dip into still

Another example – when I saw Mike after my own “economics plus” effort, The Price Of Fish, was published in 2011, Mike quietly commended the book and told me that he had bought multiple copies of it to give away to his friends.

Still available at all good bookshops…probably at bad bookshops too.

That was Mike.

Almost everyone who knew him reasonably well has a favourite anecdote about Mike, but there tends to be a common theme to those stories. Mike’s warmth, generosity, intelligence, sense of humour and ability to laugh at himself clearly shines through.

The last time I saw Mike was at that previously-mentioned Newsrevue 40th Anniversary event, at which he delivered a coupe of comedic pieces, including a stand-up routine making comedy out of his own Parkinson’s condition. Brave comedy, delivered without self pity and with supreme comedic timing. A fitting memory of Mike Hodd.

A Sojourn To Prested Hall For Play, Talk and Watching Tennis & Stuff, 12 to 14 September 2022

I played some real tennis (& padel), I spoke at the Real Tennis Society Conference, I watched four sets of the World Championship (the middle day) and had a thoroughly good time.

The idea, from my perspective, was hatched in May, while I was playing in the Lowenthal Trophy Tournament at Queen’s.

Frederika (Freddy) Adam tapped me up (moments before the final I seem to recall) to see if I would produce something vaguely historical for the Real Tennis Society Conference during the World Championship in September.

Only if I can get myself a decent seat for the match that evening and a room at Prested Hall for a couple of nights.

A couple of weeks later, I somewhat idly (more in hope than expectation) checked out the match and room situation. One front row seat had popped back into the pot and so had a room for two nights at Prested Hall. I eagerly grabbed both and resolved to do something for the history conference.

The upshot was an immersive performance piece, which you can read by clicking here or below…

The Prested people (both in the tennis club and the Hall) are incredibly helpful. They arranged for me to play real tennis on the Monday afternoon when I arrived and padel on the Wednesday morning before I left. Both were very good games.

I met one or two of my fellow real tennis addicts at dinner in the hotel on the Monday evening, but the fun really started at breakfast on the Tuesday, where I found Freddy and Michael “Mikko” Lindell, one of the other conference presenters. Almost as soon as we started to chat, Mikko asked if he could draw me. Naturally I agreed. When I got back to my room after breakfast, about 30 minutes after that request, the headline picture (above) was sitting in my e-mail inbox.

Here is a link to the conference programme.

During my performance, just prior to playing an instrumental piece of music, I made a quip about suffering from pre-minstrel tension. As soon as I had finished, Mikko presented me with the following picture:

Janie is already working on getting this prized possession framed.

But we were mostly there for the World Championship, in which Camden Riviere was challenging Rob Fahey for the fifth and probably final time (Rob is now an astonishing 54), having toppled Rob in 2016 but somehow Rob had grabbed the crown back in 2018. This challenge, in September 2022, was the delayed March 2020 one.

Before the tennis was a reception, which was a chance to catch up briefly with real tennis friends who had come down just for the evening. After the tennis there was a loud and convivial atmosphere in the Prested bar/bistro – an atmosphere I can only describe as unique in the real tennis world…but then there is only one real tennis club in Essex.

The tennis that Tuesday evening was very exciting…at least it was in the end. The match was poised 2-2 sets after the first day. Camden won the first three sets on Tuesday evening with relative ease and was even 4-0 up in the fourth set of the night, when Rob somehow managed to start turning things around – astonishingly taking that set having saved several set point along the way.

Rather than read my prattle on this, better you read a proper journalist’s account – that of James (Jim) Zug – click here.

Actually James joined me for breakfast briefly the next morning before he flew back to the states and I scurried over to the padel court. It was a good opportunity to chat in person having exchanged e-mails in the past but not really chatted. Several other conferencistas were there at breakfast, which was a chance to swap metaphorical notes.

After padel, I packed and left, stopping off at Lord’s for one last look at county cricket this season – well it would have been rude not to.

On the pavilion/tennis side of the ground, I ran in to a few people who had been at Prested the night before. Then I wandered round to the new Edrich Stand, gracing it with my presence for the first time in glorious autumn sunshine. It was a fitting end to a very enjoyable short trip.

Middlesex trying to bowl out Glamorgan, second dig, in a crucial promotion battle

Philip The Bold: Wine, Tennis & Song – A Performance Symposium First Presented At The Real Tennis Society Conference During The World Championships,  Prested Hall, 13 September 2022

During the lockdown period of our recent plague, in 2020, I found some solace while not being able to play real tennis by reading a great deal and writing a little about tennis history. 

One of the most fascinating passages I found is the following paragraph which I quote here verbatim from “The Sports and Pastimes of the People of England from the Earliest Period”, Joseph Strutt, 1801

“During the reign of Charles V . palm play , which may properly enough be denominated hand – tennis , was exceedingly fashionable in France, being played by the nobility for large sums of money ; and when they had lost all that they had about them , they would sometimes pledge a part of their wearing apparel rather than give up the pursuit of the game . The Duke of Burgundy, according to an old historian , having lost sixty franks at palm play with the Duke of Bourbon , Messire William de Lyon , and Messire Guy de la Trimouille, and not having money enough to pay them, gave his girdle as a pledge for the remainder; and shortly afterwards he left the same girdle with the comte D ‘ Eu for eighty franks, which he also lost at tennis.”

[The reference in Strutt simply reads “Laboureur, sub an. 1368”.]   

I wanted to find out more about this 14th century loser of a Duke.

Philip The Bold of Burgundy (1342-1404)

I quickly and easily found out that the Duke in question was Philip The Bold, the youngest brother of Charles V, otherwise known as Charles the Wise.

Charles The Wise – no apparel-loser, he.

Despite the pathetic image conjured by the girdle adage, Philip The Bold was no loser. Heralded for his bravery in battle, he became the most influential French nobleman of his period.

Further, as I shall argue in this immersive presentation, his activities had seminal and lasting effects on worlds as diverse as wine, tennis and music.  But evidence to support such arguments is hard to come by for a period as early as the 14th century.

We really only have three contemporary types of information source. Chronicles [e.g. The Chronicles of Jean Froissart] which record major events and edicts. These tend to tell us that major events happened, with scant evidence about how they happened and almost nothing on activities such as tennis and music.

Secondly, the account books of noble households which provide circumstantial evidence of how activities might have been undertaken. My story will be relying quite a bit on those.

The third type of source, more open to interpretation than the other two, comes from poets and lyricists of that period. We have a few fascinating and amusing pieces of this kind for Philip the Bold’s story.

A Potted History Of Philip The Bold’s Life

Philip was born in 1342, the youngest son of John The Good, who become King of France in 1350. Philip joined with his father in 1356 in the Battle of Poitiers, a couple of decades into The Hundred Years War, where both were taken prisoner and removed to England.

John The Good (but not THAT good in battle)

Philip remained a gilded prisoner in England between 1356 and 1360, thus spending the best of his teenage years in captivity and helping to establish the tradition of English residential secondary education resembling a prisoner of war camp. More seriously, there are contemporary accounts of Philip playing chess with his captor, The Black Prince (Prince Edward of Woodstock), but sadly there is nothing in the chronicles connecting Philip with wine, tennis or music during his period in captivity – they don’t even report the chess match results.

Philip’s mother, Bonne of Luxembourg, had been a great patron of the arts, before her untimely death in 1349 of plague.

Bonne & John, were pretty lookin’ people…

When, in 1360, the 18-year-old Philip returned from captivity to the Valois court in Paris, Guillaume de Machaut, one of the most important composer-poets of the 14th century, who had been one of Bonne’s favourites, was still a frequent guest of the royal household, certainly until the death of King John the Good some four years later. 

Guillaume de Machaut

Douce Dame Jolie by Guillaume de Machaut

The structure of the song is a virelai. The subject matter is fin’amor – often now referred to as courtly love – unrequited love directed towards a perfect, unattainable woman – the singer eventually pleads for his lover to kill him as a mercy to end his torment. Typical.

I performed this one mostly acapella with a short instrumental intro and accompanied outro.

Here is a rather beautiful instrumental version of the piece:

While here is Theo Bleckmann singing the song beautifully with electronic backing which should not be mistaken for traditional 14th century accompaniment:

A Potted History Of Philip The Bold’s Life (Continued)

Philip of Rouvres

In 1361 the 15-year-old Duke of Burgundy, Philip of Rouvres died, probably of plague, which meant that the Burgundy Dukedom technically reverted to the Kingdom of France.  In 1363, John The Good, soon before he also died, secretly conferred the Burgundian Dukedom to Philip. In 1364, Philip’s older brother, now King Charles V, officially invested Burgundy upon Phillip.

Thus Philip was a 26-year-old single Duke at the time of the reported 1368 tennis-girdle incident.

In 1369 Philip married Margaret of Flanders which lined Philip up for a much-expanded Dukedom once Louis of Male, Count of Flanders, died, in 1384. 

Marriage of Philip & Margaret. An end, no doubt, to girdle gambling days.

Four years earlier, In 1380, Charles V died, leaving 11-year-old Charles VI King of France.  Three Dukes shared the regency until the youngster reached majority. Philip was the youngest of those three Dukes, but neither Louis, Duke of Anjou nor John, Duke of Berry were particularly interested in governing France, leaving Philip The Bold as de facto regent.

Charles VI, known as Charles The Beloved. Not Charley the Barmy.

In 1388 Charles VI claimed the throne, but within four years was regularly in the throes of violent mental illness, such that a more tentative, disputed regency was in play for most of the rest of Philip the Bold’s life, which ended in 1404 following a flu-like or covid-like respiratory illness.

Evidence Of Expenditure On Tennis & Music

Returning to the search for evidence of Philip’s tennis playing, one of the on-line sources – is the 1888 book “Itineraries of Philip the Bold and John the Fearless, Dukes of Burgundy, 1363-1419, according to the expense accounts of their hotel. Collected and put in order by Ernest Petit”.  On p475, we find the so-called girdle accounts, recorded as May 1368.  My translation:

“On folio 3 1 of the same account, Monseigneur le Duc, having lost sixty pounds in tennis, gave his belt as a pledge for the said sum to the Duc de Bourbon, Guy de la Trémouille and others, who had won it from him.

“Fol. 9-3 from the same account. The duke’s belt is still given as a pledge to the Comte d’Eu for eighty francs which he had lost with him in tennis.”

Leaving a belt as surety at least sounds a little more dignified than leaving a girdle.  It also has a more “sporting trophy” sound to it.

Battle of Pontvallain – 1370 – Philip probably missed out on this one

There are several references to tennis and dice losses in the expense accounts for the period when Philip was in residence in Saumur on a military campaign in 1372.  On that sequence of occasions, it seems the Duke was not required to leave any clothing as surety but he took pains to seek to return and settle his debts.  [This sequence is charmingly written up on-line on the Les Portes Du Temps website.]

Another fascinating reference, cited in Music at the Court of Burgundy 1364-1419 A Documentary History by Craig Wright, from the account books of 1378, shows Philip presenting Jean De Dinnat with a silver belt worth 29 francs and then 1379 with 10 francs for beating him at tennis. Jean de Dinnant was one of Philip’s favourite musicians who accompanied him at times on his travels. Still, it is most unusual to find an accounted example of a nobleman playing tennis with a minstrel. This unusual transaction makes me wonder whether the 29 franc belt might have previously been mortgaged a few times.

What we do know for sure, as reported by Wright and others interested in the history of music in Burgundy at that time, is that Philip ran up huge expenditures by the standards of his time, sending his minstrels around the music schools in France and abroad – certainly in the period 1378 to 1394, with large payments for musicians travel and instruments recorded many times in the household accounts.

Philip was not the first and not the only French/European noble to do this sort of thing in the 14th century. His parents had been great patrons of the arts, as was to some extent, Edward III of England, whose household accounts show him sending minstrels “across the seas, to learn new songs”, as early as 1335. 

But a concerted bout of international minstrel schooling seems to have been triggered by the Bruges peace conferences of 1375 & 1376, brokered between Philip The Bold and his recent adversary at war, John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster.  One of the few conclusive results of those peace conferences was exchanges of minstrels; Gautier l’Anglais remained in Philip’s employ for several years, while several of Philip’s minstrels travelled to England with John of Gaunt’s retinue. 

Mike Searle / Tutbury Castle (3) / CC BY-SA 2.0

Gaunt, was, like Philip, a princely patron of arts, known as “King of the Minstrels” in the Minstrels’ Court, a form of trade guild centred on Tutbury Castle, where the apprenticeship of minstrels was organised in late 14th century England.  

Song Two: Puis Que Je Suy Amoureux, attributed Richard Loqueville

  • Attributed to Richard Loqueville – a harper and teacher at Cambrai;
  • A rondeau in form;
  • Another unrequited love song – in this one the singer hopes for just one glance from his beloved. Typical;
  • Performs well either as a harp/gittern instrumental or song.

I performed this one as a short instrumental. There is a beautiful recording of this as a harp instrumental performed by Andrew Lawrence King – still available for purchase/download here.

Below is a beautiful rendition of the song by Asteria.

Without question Philip the Bold went large on employing musicians towards the end of his life. When his father-in-law Louis, Count of Flanders, died, Philip retained the entire Flanders collection of musicians along with his own to create probably the largest payroll of musicians anywhere at that time. His prior collection was made up primarily of minstrels, but the collection Philip acquired on the death of Louis of Flanders included a substantial chapel as well as minstrels. The burgeoning importance of the music school at Cambrai in the late 14th and early 15th century was largely attributable to Philip The Bold’s investment in musicians.

We don’t know for sure what types of music specifically Philip The Bold favoured but we do know that Phillip’s library, towards the end of his life and posthumously, was well stocked with Guillaume de Machaut’s work. Machaut, unlike many of the lyric poets who followed him, was very much a composer of music as well as a poet.

One of Machaut’s most famous pupils was Eustache Deschamps, a prolific lyric-poet otherwise known as Morel. Deschamps was a contemporary of Philip The Bold.  Deschamps’s estates in Champagne had been ransacked by the English, probably under the auspices of John of Gaunt. Unsurprisingly, Deschamps writes disdainfully about the English generally. He was, however, fond of Geoffrey Chaucer, another contemporary of these chaps, such that Deschamps wrote a tribute to Chaucer lauding his work.

Geoffeey Chaucer – Eustace Deschamps was a fan

In the 14th century there was no real distinction between lyricists and poets. Much of Deschamps’s canon is written in lyrical forms such as virelays and rondeaus that make it hard to imagine that those poems were not intended to be sung. However, many of Deschamps’s ballad poems, including those that mention Philip the Bold and tennis, were probably intended for recitation, not song.

Philip the Bold is mentioned in far from flattering terms in a couple of Deschamps’ poems. The poem “Ordre de la Baboue” describes an imaginary drinking club of unsightly looking people who are members of Philip the Bold’s household.

Image, assumed public domain/fair use, borrowed from Brewminate

More interesting is the Dit du Gieu des Dez, The Ballad Of The Dice Game, (1395), in which Deschamps imagines a drunken drinking and dice session at the Hotel de Nesle, the Duke of Berry’s Paris mansion – in which Philip the Bold together with his host & the Duke of Bourbon enjoy a night of excess and ribaldry.

The Hotel de Nesle was the location of a very early indoor tennis court, built by Philip The Fair around 1300 for his son Louis, latterly Louis X, the Quarrelsome, who famously died in the aftermath of a game of tennis, possibly drunk, possibly murdered or possibly both.

It is clear from Deschmaps and other medieval sources that an entertainment and gambling session would often have begun with the rigours of tennis and then, to continue gambling, turned to drinking and playing dice.

On similar themes, an earlier, 1372 Deschamps poem, The Charter of Good Youths of Vertus in Champagne, is a satirical ballad, set in Deschamps’s home town of Vertus, explaining how to live a “good life”. This ballad mentions tennis a couple of times.  I shall recite a couple of dozen lines from this relatively long poem (more than 250 lines), sometimes swapping strict meaning to allow the English language version to follow the lyrical and satirical quality of the Medieval French. 

The king of the hedonists,

Lived the long life of a dedanist;

Deep inside a tavern in Vertus,

Badly dressed, yet virtuous;

To all the young in the town,

Who habitually would come on down;

Saying “cheers”, while following this charter faithfully,

Which I shall now report to you thoughtfully and gracefully.

First, as soon as we rise, whatever the time,

Let’s refresh our mouths with the best and most expensive wine;

From dawn until dusk, without leaving or pausing for food,

As none of that would do us any good.

Assign the bill, no-one’s entitled to force it,

He who gripes or tinkers should pay double as forfeit;

Grandiose talk might turn out to be wisest,

Trading in goods might be done in many guises;

Games of tennis and dice often need arbitration,

Agree peacefully – indoors – in the court of libation.

Serve yourselves grandly and serve yourselves lazily,

Never care to work – people kill themselves ploughing crazily;

Play dice and tennis on sloping roofs or on thatch,

To exercise within – but if you must go out – find a match;

In women’s cloisters or communes or village communities…

[…followed by another 160 lines of bawdy verse, which no amount of trigger warnings or woke translation could repair for 21st century ears]

Philip The Bold & The Grapes Of Wrath (Pinot Noir v Gamay)

Those mentions of wine bring me to the third aspect of Philip The Bold’s legacy which I’m keen to discuss with you. 

The beloved Pinot Noir

On 31 July 1395 Philip The Bold made a solemn decree about wine, banning the Gamay grape from Burgundy, insisting that the traditional, high-quality, low-yield grape, pinot noir, be restored to its rightful place in Burgundian vineyards.  [The whole text of the ordinance can be found on-line in many places, including the source linked here.] Here is a loosely translated extract from the ordinance, in which Philip objects to the planting of:

“a very bad and treacherous variety of grape called Gameez, which produces abundant quantities of wine; and to allow the greater production of this bad wine they have left in a ruinous state good places where the best sort of grapes might be grown. Wine from Gameez is the type of wine that is extremely harmful to human beings, to the extent that, we are reliably informed,  many people who previously partook of this wine were infested by serious diseases, because such wine from grapes of that nature is infused with much foul and horrible bitterness. For these reasons we solemnly command all who have said Gameez vines to cut them down or have them cut down, wherever they may be in our country, within five months.”

The ordinance goes on to stipulate and restrict other agricultural practices for Burgundy. It is a seminally comprehensive and prescriptive state decree on food and/or wine standards.  It’s context was almost certainly the aftermath of the plague, which would have hit Burgundian wine-growers badly, both in terms of massively reduced manpower to produce fine wines from a difficult grape such as pinot noir and a reduced wider market for Burgundy’s fine wines. The Gamay grape – a cross-breed between Pinot Noir and a despised, peasant-variety, Gouais, does indeed grow abundantly compared with its high-falutin’ parent grape. Intriguingly, the Chardonnay grape is also a cross-breed between Pinot and Gouais, yet the white cross-breed latterly found favour for the fine white wines of Burgundy.

The decree was not popular at the time. The farmers were suffering and the abundant production of Gamay was saving their livelihoods and those of the wine merchants. The town council in Dijon that August voted that the ordinance was a breach of their privileges, thus rejecting it. Philip the Bold had the Mayor imprisoned and replaced. Also several councillors were fined as a result of that impertinence. When Philip made a decree he really meant it.

The agrarian crisis that led to the decree and followed from it is well-documented,  including a fascinating 1982 academic piece The “Disloyal” Grape: The Agrarian Crisis of Late Fourteenth-Century Burgundy by Rosalind Kent Berlow, and a more folksy article summarising the topic by Rupert Millar on thedrinksbusiness.com is available on-line here.  Further, as Ben O’Donnell points out in The Exile of Burgundy on winespectator.com, Philip did not go so far as to implement his decree in Beaujolais, which he perhaps saw as a lesser, rural backwater in any case. There the Gamay continued to be planted and wines produced from it, as they are still in Beaujolais.

[ANNOUNCE MINI WINE TASTING BEFORE RETURNING BRIEFLY TO MUSIC – the wine samples were served during the remainder of the session]

Burgundian Music & Tennis Reprise

Guillaume Dulay (left) & Gilles Binchois (right)

Towards the end of Philip’s life, a very young Guillaume Dufay was taken to Cambrai by his mother, where he joined the chapel as a choirboy.  Little is known of Dufay’s formative years at Cambrai, but he no doubt have studied under several of the Burundian-sponsored masters and benefitted from the many conventions of musicians for which Cambrai became famous at that time. Parenthetically, there is a beautiful picture in a Cambrai book of hours, dated c1300, of monks playing jeu de paume (see below…or click this link to see many of the stunning images from that Book of Hours).

Paume had been a big deal at Cambrai since c1300, based on this Book Of Hours picture

Dufay lived a long life and his compositions are seen as central to the Burgundian School’s importance in the development of music from Medieval Ars Nova into Renaissance music. This song, probably from early in Dufay’s life, is a rondeau in the ars nova style popular towards the end of Philip The Bold’s life. It would have been close to the top of the medieval charts for several of the early 1400s decades. Unlike the fin’amor love song I sang earlier, this song is a lament for leaving behind a beloved place, along with, no doubt, loved ones in that place.

Adieu Ces Bon Vins De Lannoy by Guillaume Dufay

  • Another rondeau, said to be inspired by Loqueville’s style, as Dufay would have studied under him.

I performed this song acapella.

Here are Asteria again, with a lovely accompanied rendition of this song.

By the end of Dufay’s life, in 1474, the Valois-Ducal-Burgundian line was almost at an end. Charles The Bold died at the Battle of Nancy in 1477 leaving no male issue.  His daughter, Mary of Burgundy, Philip The Bold’s great, great granddaughter, married Maximillian I, ending the Valois dynasty, joining its remainder with the Habsburg dynasty.  The Burgundian lands soon reverted to France, but by that time tennis had become more firmly established as a grand game for nobles as well as a smaller-scale town and tavern game for the middling sort.

Mary of Burgundy (1458–1482).*oil on oak panel.*47.5 x 35 cm

As for music, the cross-fertilisation of music styles between the burgeoning Burgundian School and emerging techniques from England (John Dunstable’s influence was overtly recognised by Burgundian musicians) led to the development of multi-part polyphony based on triads and chords which we now consider central to Western music and which are seen musically as the transition from Medieval to Renaissance music.

My closing number is another lament to a place – Innsbruck – written by Heinrich Isaac, probably in the middle of the 1480s, when he was employed there by the Habsburg Archduke Sigismund. This piece is sometimes misattributed to Maximillian I which is as likely as the attribution of Greensleeves to Henry VIII – i.e. utterly implausible.

Innsbruck Ich Muss Dich Lassen

Here is a recording of my first (2017) attempt at this song for The Gresham Society.

Nearly five years later, I think I’m a little bit better at making music, which is more than can be said for my tennis. The following video is a good example of the full four parts Isaac wrote for this song:

In many ways Philip’s wine & music legacies are more evidentially direct, but his influence on the progress of tennis is, arguably, just as seminal and lasting. We learn from  Jean-Michel Mehl, Les Jeux Au Royaume de France, 1998 that:

“in 1385, Philippe le Hardi had made, in his hotel in Arras, “a pavement of thirty feet of stone to play tennis with palms. Without doubt, this tennis court was still used by Philip the Good.”

The last overt reference to tennis in the accounts of Philip’s household, according to Petit, was in 1390:

“On 10th of March, the duke donated to the lady of Suilly, a clasp of gold, garnished with four brooms and eight large pearls to three children playing tennis, shining, to the value of 180 gold francs. (Letter to the Duke, dated Rouvre 10 March)”

Here we see an older Philip sponsoring things he found beautiful, although whether the donation was primarily for the woman or primarily for the young tennis stars we’ll never know.  But Philip was, repeatedly, a generous sponsor of things he liked and wanted to encourage.  I warm to that aspect of him. I also share his love for wine, tennis and music.

Mini Wine Tasting

Wine One: Morgon La Chanaise 2020, Dominique Piron – Cru Beajolais – Gamay – Price range £12 to £16 per bottle

Wine Two: Les Pierres Rouges Bourgogne 2020, Louis Jadot – Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée – Pinot Noir – Price range £14 to £18 per bottle

Acknowledgements

I’d especially like to thank my friend, Gresham Society colleague and linguist Professor Tim Connell, who has helped me with translation of several Deschamps poems. One fascinating aspect of working through these poems is how open to interpretation some of the material is.  I have most certainly taken liberties with some of Tim’s diligent translation, substituting an attempt to emulate the lyrical and satirical rhythm of the work at the expense of strict meaning/translation.

Also with grateful thanks to my early music tutor, Ian Pittaway, whose patient tutelage on both the music history and the techniques of medieval music-making can only be explained by his depth of knowledge and sense of humour.

Thanks also to my wife, Janie, for tolerating my incessant tapping at the keyboard, plucking at the guitar strings and warbling of the songs, regardless of whatever else might have been on the agenda these past few weeks.

Further Reading & References

Ian Harris’s Ogblog Tetralogy On The Origins Of Tennis:

Tennis: A Cultural History, Heiner Gillmeister, A&C Black, 1998 or Tennis A Cultural History (Second edition), Heiner Gillmeister, Equinox Publishing Ltd, 2017

Real Tennis Today and Yesterday, John Shneerson, Ronaldson Publications, 2015

Willis Faber Book Of Tennis & Rackets, Lord Aberdare, Hutchinson, 1980

The Annals Of Tennis, Julian Marshall, “The Field” Office, 1878

Colloquia Familiaria by Desiderius Erasmus, c1518

Antonio Scaino, 1555, Trattato del Giuoco della Palla (Treatise of the Ball Game)

 A Treatise on Tennis By a Member of the Tennis Club, now attributed to Robert Lukin, 1822

De Corrupti Sermonis Emendatione, Mathurin Cordier (Corderius), 1536

The Sports and Pastimes of the People of England from the Earliest Period, Joseph Strutt, 1801

Music At the Court of Burgundy 1364-1419, Craig Wright, Institute of Medieval Music, 1979.

“Dijon, Burgundy,” in Europe: A Literary History, 1348-1418, Volume 1. Ed. David Wallace. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016: 102-124

The Chronicles of Froissart, Selected, Edited & Translated by Geoffrey Brereton, Penguin Classics, 1968

The “Disloyal” Grape: The Agrarian Crisis of Late Fourteenth-Century Burgundy, Rosalind Kent Berlow, 1982

‘A very bad and disloyal variety’: The banning of Gamay, Rupert Millar, thedrinksbusiness.com, July 2016.

The Exile of Burgundy, Ben O’Donnell, winespectator.com, November 2011.

Histoire et statistique de la vigne et des grands vins de la Côte d’Or, By Jean Lavalle, 1855.

Jean-Michel Mehl, Les Jeux Au Royaume de France, 1998