Two Nights In Manchester, 12 to 14 March 2019

It can be cold and wet and windy in Manchester. Who knew? No, I mean honestly – my previous few visits were warm and pleasant – e.g. the most recent one in September 2016:

Anyway, life hasn’t been taking me to Manchester much lately, so when John White told me that his daughter, Lydia, was to have her first professional stage role in Rags The Musical at the Hope Mill Theatre…

…I decided to construct a short trip to that fair, clement City.

I contacted Ashley Fletcher, who had been unavailable on my previous visit or two; we arranged to meet for dinner on the evening of 12 March. So I booked three goes at the Manchester Tennis and Racquets Club, a ticket for Rags for 13 March and an Airbnb apartment near to the Hope Mill Theatre for two nights.

Unfortunately, Ashley got called away at the last minute on family matters, leaving the first night free. This possibly afforded me an opportunity to meet up with Alex “King Cricket” Bowden instead…

…but Alex spotted that Manchester City were to play Schalke 04 at the City Of Manchester Stadium that night, which is within chaos distance of my chosen location for diggings and musical theatre. What do I know of football? For a start, why are Schalke given 04 just for turning up – are they using a handicapping system in football now, much as we do in real tennis?

Strangely there had been a big European match at that same stadium when I was last in Manchester in 2016 against a shibbolethic team named…

…Borussia Mönchengladbach….

…But as I was staying in Salford Quays that time, the resulting disruption was merely hearsay to me, whereas this time I had inadvertently arranged to stay right in the thick of it.

I sought some spiritual advice on the matter.

I had arranged to meet Andy Salmon at Sacred Trinity Church briefly before playing tennis that Tuesday afternoon. We are both involved with the Church’s on-line service register initiative, which Andy is piloting.

Sacred Trinity, Salford (15217623208)
Sacred Trinity: a beautiful church in Salford which happens to be just around the corner from the Manchester Tennis And Racquets Club

It was actually very interesting for me to see one of the Churches involved in our project, not least to see what such places are like on a regular, non-service day. Andy of course made me very welcome and also gave me some helpful local North-East Manchester advice regarding what to do when a big match is on. Basically, get to your digs early enough to avoid the chaotic roads/transport and then only go out again during the hours of play.

ImageManchester Tennis and Racquet Club
Manchester Tennis And Racquets Club – not so special looking from the outside – you can see why I drove around the block a couple of times on my first visit there.

After tennis (a close match in which I came second, despite having received handicap points) I dashed off sharpish to get to New Islington early and settle in to my apartment. Probably just as well, not least because I could see the police getting ready to herd fans round the ring road and along Pollard Street. Also, it took me a while once I got to the apartment to sort out parking and entry – some goon had parked in the designated parking space for my car. The errant parking goon had been given a parking ticket, but I had no idea what I was supposed to do in the circumstances, so I waited for my host to sort out an alternative space for me to use, which he did reasonably quickly.

Getting in and out of these fancy apartments in converted industrial buildings is often quite a palaver (this is not my first time in such a place), but this one was quite exceptional, with codes for the car park, building entrance, stairs (if needed – wasn’t), corridors and then finally the front door. Once you know all of these things its OK, but the first time, laden with baggage…

…anyway, I was there in decent time and liaised with Alex. We concluded that getting either of us to and from each other within the hours of play would leave precious little time to actually do anything of merit, so abandoned the idea of meeting.

I took refuge instead at a very friendly-looking, family run Thai cafe,
just around the corner from the apartment. It was until recently called Vivid Thai, but has recently changed its name to Jūb Thai, renamed in memory of Grandma, apparently. I tried the chicken Pad Thai, which was lovely, washed down with a glass of red wine.

Plenty of time to eat there between the start and end of a football match.

Indeed I was home well before the end of the match and was very tired. I had driven almost all the way to Manchester through torrential rain; my least favourite driving conditions. I went to bed early and thought I heard the roar of the crowd from the stadium. Probably a goal I thought, dozily.

Then, half asleep, I thought I heard that roar again…then, soon after, yet again. I started to wonder whether I was actually hearing the howl of occasional gusts of wind rather than the crowd, but when I woke the next morning I discovered that Manchester City had done rather well, scoring seven and thus exceeding Schalke’s 04 on the handicap system.

I also discovered that Manchester City had done similarly well on my previous 2016 visit, scoring four against a team requiring no handicap – I’m starting to get the hang of this new soccer scoring system now. I’m sure the soccer crowds just love the additional nuance that handicap scoring can bring.

Anyway, after that enjoyably early night, I rose early and had plenty of time for reading and practising my Renaissance guitar technique before going off again to Salford for a lunchtime tennis match up. This time no handicap at all and this time I prevailed over my opponent. Both of the matches had been very good ones; really nice people and good challenging tennis. Tomorrow I’ll return for a lesson.

Back to the apartment for some more music and reading. Then back to the Thai place to try a rice dish – a beef massaman.

Then a quick pit stop back at the apartment before heading off to the theatre to see Rags The Musical, which I have written up here.

The next morning I vacated my apartment and drove round the ring road for my tennis lesson. I decided to take a picture of the main lobby of the club, which, in contrast to the exterior, looks like a grand club from a bygone era. Trigger warning: the heads of deceased beasts line the walls:

Through the arched window (as they would say in Play School) is the real tennis court.

Darren Long gave me my lesson – as indeed he did on my last visit. He does some different drills from the guys at Lord’s and has some interesting thoughts on the one or two things I might do to transform my game from the ordinary to the utterly exceptional. It might be as easy as that…although it might not.

Seriously, Darren is a very good coach and it was a very enjoyable hour. Once again, the team at the Manchester Tennis and Racquets Club had made me feel extremely welcome and looked after me as well as I could possibly have hoped for.

After the lesson, I availed myself of the changing room facilities and made a discovery worthy of a King Cricket write up – click here or below:

If by chance anything ever happens to the King Cricket site, that page is scraped to here.

That lavatorial stump contraption helped me to recover a childhood memory; a similar stump contraption for our back drive, made for me by a kindly, coincidentally Mancunian neighbour, Cyril Barnett:

I made two stops on the journey home to ensure an adequate state of alertness and to stretch a bit – driving from Manchester to London straight after a rigorous hour of drills on the tennis court is probably not ideal on the old body, but still.

It had been an enjoyable trip; apart from the cold, the wind and the rain. Manchester really should try and do something about that – otherwise it could end up with somewhat of a reputation for its inclement weather.

Rags The Musical, Hope Mill Theatre, 13 March 2019

Declaration of interest: I have known Lydia White, who plays the role of Bella in this production, since before she was born; she is my best mate John’s daughter. This production is Lydia’s professional debut.

Picture borrowed from Lydia’s Twitter account – I’m guessing she wont mind.

Declaration of uninterest: this type of musical theatre is simply not the sort of stuff I would normally see. Yes, I wrote lyrics for Newsrevue in the 1990s, which is sort-of musical theatre and yes I wrote the lyrics for Casablanca the Musical at the turn of the century.

Yes, I am familiar with recordings of many of the great musicals of the 1930s through to the 1970s. But you can search Ogblog high and low for signs of straight musical theatre going in vain.

So, there I was; a chap normally predisposed to parodying musical theatre rather than appreciating it, trying to lap up Rags the Musical, a troubled piece from 1986 which closed on Broadway after just four nights, much revamped for this 2019 revival.

Rags is about a group of Jewish immigrants arriving in America early in the 20th Century. It has often been described as a sort-of sequel to Fiddler On the Roof, with several of those involved in writing the latter also involved in writing Rags. Here is a link to Hope Mill Theatre’s resource on this musical/production.

I thought the quality of this production was quite exceptional. I didn’t really know what to expect in a disused mill, relatively recently re-purposed as a small theatre with grand ideas to put on big shows like this.

Can they do it? Yes they can.

Coincidentally, I ended up sitting next to a pair of gentlemen who I had noticed sitting next to me in the Jūb Thai before the show. The chap immediately next to me turned out to be a local who has become very impressed by this new theatre on his manor. He told me that their home grown productions, of which Rags is one – have been consistently excellent.

The thing that impressed me the most was the universal quality of the performances. Not to detract at all from Lydia White’s superb performance, the praises of which clearly I am here to hail, in seriousness I thought the whole cast, every one of them, was truly excellent.

The quality of the musicianship was very high too. The music is a mish-mosh (if I might throw in bissel Yiddish) of ragtime, klezmer, jazz and show; that cannot be easy to contain and deliver to consistent quality, but the musicians and singers keep going to a very high quality level throughout.

The book was clearly problematic from the 1986 outset with this musical – I think the radical rewrite has partially but not totally solved the problem. I have some sympathy with the original author Joseph Stein. He originally set out to write a screenplay, settled on the libretto of a musical but kept the big picture story about the immigrant experience at the turn of the 20th Century. I have read a synopsis of the original version and it really does try to cover an enormous scope of subject matter for a musical.

And much like a troyer-shpil in the Yiddish Theatre tradition, which Rags The Musical parodies in many ways, it tries to throw in everything but the kitchen sink. So this is not one for the Royal Court.

The rewrite for this production is a smaller canvas but as a result some of the nuance is, I think, lost. So, for example…

…*spoiler alert*…

…Bella’s demise towards the end of the piece seems like happenstance rather than part of almost inevitable conflicts between ambition, desperation, industrial action and greed.

The writers have made some interesting choices, some of which work better than others. I loved the theatre trip towards the end of the first act where the protagonists see a Yiddish version of Hamlet which ends up with Klezmer music and Horah dancing despite Hamlet and Ophelia’s despair.

I was surprised by The Kaddish (mourner’s prayer) song, though, for which the writers chose simply to set the original mourner’s prayer to music. I imagined it would be something akin to the Fiddler On The Roof Sabbath Prayer song, which picks and chooses passages from the Hebrew prayer to make a very charming musical song in English.

The Mourner’s Kaddish is actually a tongue-twister of a prayer – part in Hebrew part in Aramaic – it must be really hard for people to learn it if they haven’t grown up with it and it must sound very strange to the uninitiated ear. Unfortunately I had reason to see and hear a mourner’s kaddish again, two days after seeing the show. I thought about it and really struggled to understand why the Rags lyricist hadn’t selected choice phrases in English to depict the meaning of that prayer with dignity and beauty. Perhaps superstition played its part – you just don’t mess with the prayer for the dead.

I was also surprised that the Children Of The Wind song doesn’t appear until right at the end of the show – reprised almost immediately in the finale. The musical would, to me, have seemed more holistic if that song had appeared early, e.g. when the immigrants arrive, as well as at the end of the show when their tale has been told.

But then what do I know to critique a musical? I don’t really do musicals.

At the small canvas level, the story very much resonated with me. I am, after all, a mostly third generation Jew, three of my four grandparents came to London from the Pale Of Settlement around the time this musical is set – plus or minus 20 years. My father’s family were indeed in the shmutter (rag) trade…they even changed their name to Harris; an idea which the Rebecca character considers but chooses to reject.

Grandma Anne With Dad (left) & Uncle Michael (right), both born in the UK. Two older brothers, Alec and Manny, came as infants with Grandma Anne from the Pale. The Rossinov family changed its name to Harris (based on my grandfather’s first name, Herschel) around 1930.

My mother’s family were musicians; quite quickly in England becoming far more high-falutin’ type musicians than the klezmer musicians in Rags, although I suspect my family arrived performing in much that style.

Grandpa Lew, sitting, with Great Uncle Max standing. Max was already an accomplished musician (strings) when they came to England, Grandpa Lew came as an infant and was never trained as a musician, but I’m told could play pretty much anything on the piano by ear. I inherited none of that.

More importantly, much of the big picture story of Rags resonates very strongly today, I’d argue to a greater extent than it did in 1986. Anti-immigration is a large element of the Brexit saga and also the Trump experience in the USA. The issues around ghettoisation, cultural assimilation and the like are very much with us, albeit not so much in the Jewish community any more. Questions around whether migrants are desirable for sound economic reasons, wanted for reasons of commercial exploitation, accepted because allowing migration is the right thing to do or not wanted at all – these questions are high on the agenda in most nations.

Despite my reservations about the book and some of the songs, I think this is a really super production and a performance piece for our time; it has the potential to do extremely well.

Rags has had great reviews at Hope Mill for a start – click here to see them. This production could travel very well to other parts of the country, not least London, where there are so many communities which would, I’m sure, enjoy the resonance and relevance of this musical to their experience.

So what did I really think about Lydia White’s performance?

I can try to compare it to the many performances of Newsrevue casts I have seen. On that score, I can honestly say that her performance would be a standout in that environment. An environment where standout performers (e.g. from my era, Dorthy Atkinson and Rosie Cavaliero) have tended to go on to have very successful careers.

In Rags The Musical, the whole cast is very strong and/but Lydia more than holds her own in that company. For a professional debut I think it is an extremely assured and talent-packed start to her career.

It was also a great pleasure to chat with Lydia for a while after the show and learn/observe what a friendly, tight-knit group the company seems to be. Lydia won’t get that everywhere she goes in her show business career, but it’s good news that her first production is such a good one with such a together company.

Blood Knot by Athol Fugard, Orange Tree Theatre, 9 March 2019

You wait years for an Athol Fugard to come to London and then, what do you know, two come along at the same time. Like buses, are Athol Fugard plays.

We saw A Lesson From Aloes last week at the Finborough and mighty fine it was too:

Blood Knot at the Orange Tree was also excellent, but if I was only going to see one of these productions, I’d personally choose Aloes, both for the play and for the production.

We saw a preview of Blood Knot, but I think my comments will apply throughout the run.

Blood Knot is a relentlessly grim play. The play is about two half-brothers in Port Elizabeth who are Cape Coloured, to use the hateful vernacular of the South African Apartheid regime. One is light-skinned and could pass for white, while the other is dark-skinned and is more likely to be regarded as black.

The poverty and hopelessness of the brothers’ situation pervades the whole play. The brothers are extremely well portrayed by Nathan McMullen and Kalungi Ssebandeke.

Click here or the picture below for the Orange Tree web resources on this production.

But the play is very slow. Especially the first half. Let’s be honest about this – and I am an Athol Fugard fan saying this – Fugard plays tend to start very slow. Lengthy periods of scene-setting and atmosphere-generating are intrinsic to Fugard’s style.

Blood Knot is especially slow to build. It is an early work and I think Fugard himself would admit that his craft as a playwright improved with experience.

It was a ground-breaking piece in its time; 1961. Fugard himself played Morrie and was testing the boundaries of Apartheid law; loopholes which for a while allowed white and black actors to appear on stage together.

All this and more about the horrible history of racist laws, South African colonialism and the Cape Coloured community are explained in fascinating essays in this production’s programme. I don’t often specifically commend a programme but this one I found hugely informative and interesting.

At the start of the interval, Janie pondered leaving before the second half, but then came round to the idea of seeing the production through.

By the end of the evening, she was really pleased she decided to see the second half – as was I. Still not racey, but the piece makes far more sense as a whole and the second half answers at least some of the questions at a reasonable lick.

Not the very best of Fugard, but still very much worth seeing.

Spending Time With Some Funny People, 5 and 7 March 2019

When I say, “funny people” in this context, I mean comedy people, not necessarily strange people. Some of them might also be strange of course, but I’ll leave that judgement to the reader.

Funny-comedic, not necessarily funny-strange: Rohan Candappa

First up, for lunch on Tuesday 5 March, was Rohan Candappa. He wanted to try a Malaysian & Indonesian restaurant, Melur, on the Edgware Road. As I had requested that we meet somewhere over my side, as I needed to be at Lord’s for a game of tennis afterwards, that seemed a reasonable choice to me.

The weather forecast suggested heavy rain around the time I’d be finishing at Lord’s, so I took my car to Aberdeen Place and parked there ahead of lunch.

The food at Melur was excellent. I was restrained in my choices given the tennis bout ahead, going for an inoffensive Nasi Goreng. Rohan went for a more spicy version and for some roti canai, which I tasted and reckon was a pretty darned good roti. I shall forever more associate that dish with Rohan, so much so that I’ll think of it as…Rohan Kanhai. Coincidentally, I shall similarly forever be reminded of that Guyanese cricketer when I recall Rohan Candappa’s visit to Lord’s with me, last year:

But I digress.

Initially Rohan and I discussed my burgeoning career as a musician in a novel genre which fuses punk rock with Renaissance guitar:

I’m thinking of naming my novel genre “Mock Tudor Rock”

Rohan, who plans to manage my band, made several branding suggestions – I responded to those thoughts subsequently as follows:

The Wessex Petards might work better as a band name the The Wessex Pistols and I still feel that Sir Michael Smear is a more visceral nom de punk than Sir John Rancid. But I cannot better your album name – Never Mind The Bailiwicks – it ought to go gold or platinum on the name alone, before we release so much as a tiny sound sample…in fact it had better go gold or platinum before we release so much as a tiny sound sample.

Rohan and I also spent a fair bit of our time discussing Rohan’s wonderful Threadmash idea. I had participated in the inaugural Threadmash event a few week’s before.

I very much hope my thoughts were helpful and that Rohan can find a way to make the Threadmash idea work for all concerned.

I had allowed loads of time between lunch and tennis, so brought plenty of reading matter with me which I enjoyed reading over a couple of excellent cups of coffee at Café Laville, overlooking the canal in sunshine.

Then on to Lord’s in order to be taught a lesson by one of my favourite real tennis opponents who has recovered from injury since I last played him and seemed keen to let me see how well he can now move around the court. A surprisingly close match in the circumstances – I thought I did well to get close.

On Thursday 7 March I had a music lesson with Ian Pittaway, who passed expert judgement on my Mock Tudor Rock…

Place the rascal in the stocks at once!

…while helping me with some other silly ideas (watch this space) and sensible techniques (don’t hold your breath).

Then a visit from John Random for a bite of lunch and the second of two sessions of NewsRevue archiving. The first session was 25 January. John has a large collection of NewsRevue programmes, flyers and reviews, which simply needed to be digitised.

We succeeded in scanning it all in two sessions, despite lots of chat, listening to some music and cricket-match like breaks for lunch/tea.

Following some cheerful chat about murder rates around the world, which identified Mexico and especially Tijuana as a hot spot, we both agreed that Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass must have a lot to answer for. So we listened to a fair smattering of Herb. John was especially taken with his version of the Third Man theme…

…and his version of A Walk In The Black Forest:

We decided that this type of music is, in many ways, the soundtrack of our childhood. Of course we like to remember the cool stuff from the 1960’s and no doubt have listened to far more of the cool stuff in later life, but when we were kids this was the music that was being played on the radios and gramophone players most of the time in our homes and the homes we visited.

We also of course chatted about NewsRevue casts, shows and material gone by. We discussed one of my own classics from more than 25 years ago, Mad Frogs And Englishmen, which I realised I hadn’t yet Ogblogged. I have put that right now:

Job done in terms of the archiving, it was time for us to set off for one of our regular Ivan Shakespeare Memorial gatherings – at which NewsRevue writers from years gone by gather to eat, chat, laugh and informally quiz.

It was International Women’s Day today, so we found ourselves an all male gathering this time. In addition to me and John: Gerry Goddin, Mark Keagan, Barry Grossman, Colin Stutt and a rare but much appreciated visit from NewsRevue founder and “father of the house” Mike Hodd.

The venue was the Spaghetti House in Holborn this time; a good notch up in service and food quality from Cafe Rogues in my view. My first time there but not the group’s first time.

For many years John Random has talked about his vicarious support for a football team by the name of Blyth Spartans. His home town, Hartlepool, is John’s real team but he has carried a torch for this other team for decades.

John excitedly reported that he finally got to visit Blyth Spartans and saw an exciting match there just the other week. I believe it was this match. I feel that this momentous event needs recording for posterity, as does an image of John wearing his new Blyth Spartans titfer.

John reported on the event as follows:

I would like to say a big thank you to all those of you who came out to the Spaghetti House on Thursday night. Thanks also to Mike, Colin and Gerry for their entertaining quizzes. Falling as it did, almost on International Women’s Day I regret to report that NewsRevue has still not come clean on its gender pay gap. We haven’t even had any jokes about it, yet – though I have a feeling, we will – and soon.

As I said earlier, it had been a funny week.

Funny ha-ha, not funny peculiar.

Well, maybe funny ha-ha AND funny peculiar. Good times with good friends.

The Sound Of Home Counties, Performed By “Ged Waitrose”, 4 March 2019

https://youtu.be/mFU2f7JJvso

About eight weeks ago, when I published a couple of modern songs in a slightly Renaissance manner…

…Rohan Candappa implored me to attempt Sound Of The Suburbs by The Members in a similar style.

My problem with Sound Of the Suburbs, though, is that I never found it convincing as a new wave or punk anthem. On that track, The Members always felt like a “me too” act, performing in a style that wasn’t authentically them.

Indeed, my research uncovered a few uncomfortable facts about The Members. Firstly, they were from Camberley, which is not what I’d describe as a suburb; I’d call Camberley “home counties”.

I also discovered that the lead man in The Members took Nicky Tesco as his “nom de punk”. Not very punk in my view, next to names like Sid Vicious and Rat Scabies.

Hence my adaptation being, “The Sound Of Home Counties” – a mash up of Sound Of the Suburbs with Tell me Daphne by William Byrd.

My nom de punk is Ged Waitrose

Rohan Candappa said, “never explain”, but then I don’t listen to everything Rohan says.

Rohan also said, “Ian, you’re a Rock God”. I’m rolling with that idea; Rohan talks a lot of sense sometimes.

Here’s The Sound Of The Suburbs by The Members:

https://youtu.be/NsHGnw1txLY

While here, believe it or not, is the version of Tell Me Daphne with the highest number of YouTube hits in the whole of the webosphere:

Perhaps Rohan is right about me being a Rock God.

Try “The Sound Of Home Counties” again…go on!

https://youtu.be/mFU2f7JJvso

Inside Bitch, Royal Court Theatre Upstairs, 2 March 2019

We were intrigued to see this piece, conceived and performed by women who have been to prison – a Clean Break production alongside the Royal Court.

Our previous experience of a Clean Break and Royal Court production, Pests, blew us away when we saw it five years ago:

In truth, Inside Bitch is not quite such a visceral, blow the audience away piece. It is a thoughtfully and entertainingly devised workshop-style piece in which women who have actually been to prison go through a post-modern process on stage of trying to devise a women in prison drama based on reality rather than the sensationalism normally seen in films and TV dramas on that topic.

The show is just over an hour long. Some bits worked better than others for us but for sure we found the piece entertaining throughout. That, despite the fact that many of the references to film and especially to TV drama on the topic were wasted on me and Janie because we simply don’t watch/have never seen that stuff. But we could imagine.

Here’s a link to the Royal Court resource on Inside Bitch.

While here is a link to a short vid about the piece.

The place was packed with the cast and crew’s nearest and dearest the night we went, which was preview Saturday, so the tumultuous reception was to be expected but was nevertheless deserved.

We’re ahead of the formal reviews, but once they’ve been writ, this search term should find them.

A very imaginative playtext/programme, btw – ironically priced at “a lady” and well worth it for a subsequent skim or three.

Not a conventional play, but a very entertaining and thought-provoking hour of theatre. We enjoyed it and would recommend it.

A Lesson From Aloes by Athol Fugard, Finborough Theatre, 1 March 2019

This is a superb production of a terrific play.

I have long been a fan of Athol Fugard’s plays. I started reading them in the mid 1980s when on a play reading spree: The Road To Mecca, Master Harold And the Boys…

…they don’t come around all that often to get sight of them. Yet, like London buses, sometimes two come along at roughly the same time. Next week we’ll go and see another one; Blood Knot at the Orange Tree.

Coincidentally, I have lately been writing up my 1988 theatre visits – which was another period during which two Fugards came along in quick succession – A Place With The Pigs:

…then Hello And Goodbye:

This one, A Lesson From Aloes, was right up there, in my view, as a memorable night of top notch theatre drama.

Janet Suzman has directed a fine cast; Dawid Minnaar, David Rubin and Janine Ulfane, in this wonderfully claustrophobic play, set in the early 1960s, about left-leaning folk in the Eastern Cape having had their lives ruined one way or another by Apartheid.

As is so often the case with Fugard, the political undertones are played out in a drama about family and relationships.

The Finborough is, in my view, an ideal location for this type of play – you can read all about the Finborough production here.

In many ways Janie and I weren’t in the mood for this depth of drama on that Friday evening – we’d both had busier, more tiring weeks than we’d pre-planned – but the sheer quality of the play, performances and staging kept us both gripped throughout.

At the time of writing this production has only just opened and has not yet been formally reviewed, nor is it yet sold out. My advice, if you are reading this in time, is to book early to avoid disappointment. Here’s the link again…

https://finboroughtheatre.co.uk/productions/2019/a-lesson-from-aloes.php

…while here is an interesting rehearsal video from this Finborough production:

Janet Suzman was there on that Friday evening (I think the last preview night) so I was pleased to be able to tell her personally that I thought the production was extremely good.

This link should find reviews of the Finborough production.

Dinner At Spring Restaurant With Bobbie Scully, 28 February 2019

It didn’t occur to me, when I booked Spring Restaurant, that Bobbie and I were meeting on the eve of the start of meteorological spring…

…but with the benefit of hindsight and subsequent thought processes, what a timely and apt choice that was:

Here Comes The Spring

Talking of timely, I thought I had allowed plenty of time to get from the office to Somerset House, where Spring is located, which indeed I had. I arrived at the South-Eastern entrance of that enormous building complex a good few minutes ahead of our 19:30 booking – only to realise that I needed to be several levels up and across to the North-Western side, where the New Wing and Spring are located.

I was still at the restaurant itself within 5 minutes of the appointed time, but, hell’s bells, Bobbie was already there.

Bobbie, she whose idea of timeliness is based on leaving home at the appointed hour, not getting to the venue at the appointed hour, was some minutes ahead of me, looking smug.

Under interrogation, Bobbie broke down and confessed that her plan had been to see the Charlie Brown exhibition ahead of meeting me, but had been too late for that and so was a little early for the dinner. Hence, both early and Bobbie-style late in the one fell swoop. This at least made more sense to me than the alternative hypothesis – that Bobbie is now better at time keeping than me.

Spring Restaurant is a good place – you can read what it has to say about itself here.

The food, under the supervision of Skye Gyngell, who is apparently a big name chef, was excellent. Unfussy, good ingredients cooked, presented and served very well in a charming setting.

Here’s what the TripAdvisor community thinks of it.

Bobbie went for the beef that evening, whereas I felt fishy and had a very tasty wild hake fillet. We shared some cheese after the main meal, which was an excellent selection.

Bobbie and I once again failed to put the world to rights despite agreeing how dreadful it all is and how much better it could be.

We also reminisced some more about evenings gone by – mostly very good ones – we agreed that many of our theatre visits 30 or so years ago, such as this one…

…were top notch. Although Bobbie is still hyper-ventilating a bit about The Long Way Round, which she rates as possibly her worst experience ever at the theatre:

I wanted to pick Bobbie’s brains about a weekend a few week’s earlier in 1989, when we went to see Don Giovanni and Ashley Fletcher came to stay, which I remembered as being somewhat of a low point for several reasons, more my own issues than those of the opera which I did not enjoy. I need to do some additional unpicking with Ashley on that one, but suffice it to say here that Bobbie and I had a good laugh about our slightly different but clearly linked remembrances of that June 1989 weekend.

But back to Spring on the eve of spring 2019 – the evening flew by and in fact it very nearly was meteorological spring when we realised that it was really quite late and that we should head home.

A few minutes earlier, we had debated the placement of lemons on about a third of the tables and I had concluded that they must denote reservations, but the waiter assured us that they were for decorative purposes only and that the choice of tables was random. He offered us a lemon on our table if we therefore felt bereft…which we agreed we didn’t.

I’m rambling. It was a very enjoyable evening and I hope we don’t leave it another year or so before we regroup.

RBG, Curzon Home Cinema, 25 February 2019

Janie and I saw a trailer for this movie several times over “Twixtmas”, when we went to the Curzon to see several films.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg (RBG) is a member of the US Supreme Court, was an iconic equal rights lawyer in the 1970s and remains a very interesting character. This is a documentary film about her.

It didn’t open until January and we didn’t get around to going to see it, but i did notice that it was available for us to watch at home on Curzon Home Cinema, which we are eligible for at a modest hire price through my membership.

Now that we have a little Tivo thingie for the Noddyland bedroom TV as well as the living room one, we decided to watch this movie through streaming at home.

Here’s the trailer.

It was a very interesting film.

Here’s a link to the IMDb material on this film.

We’d certainly recommend the film and also the Curzon streaming service if you are a member and your internet/cable set up is good enough to take it. We’ll be watching more Curzon films at home rather than shlepping out to documentary movies from now on, I’m sure.

The Trick by Eve Leigh, Bush Studio, 23 February 2019

Bush Theatre

Our first visit to The Bush this year – our previous visit had been to the Studio to see a quirky piece, Lands:

The Trick is also a quirky piece, but differently so. It is about loss, bereavement and the ways we need to trick ourselves into keeping going through life.

I thought we might find such a piece hard to take this weekend – our next door neighbour at Noddyland, Barry, died on Thursday night. But actually the piece was very charming, unusual and entertaining, without being heavy at all.

My only beef with the piece is that it was very bitty and that some of the bits didn’t really make sense. One scene, where the two younger performers simply made breathing noises into microphones, seemed, to me, to simply be a bridge between one of the quirky scenes (in which one of those performers read the palm of a member of the audience) and the next substantive scene about the ageing, bereaved woman and her decline.

But the piece was clearly intended to confuse the audience a bit and mix various genres of performance, ranging from direct story-telling (the Isaac Bashevis Singer story, The Little Shoemaker, is “thrown in” at one point) to chamber drama to audience participation to conjuring tricks. Entertaining throughout.

Here’s Eve Leigh, the playwright, explaining herself as best she can about it:

After the Bush Studio run, which goes on to 23 March, The Trick is going to tour many parts of the UK – here is the trailer including those tour details:

This piece was very well performed by the four actors and cleverly directed and designed.

Janie and I really like short pieces of this kind. Perhaps it is because we are getting older, but we now find 70 minutes of interesting and entertaining stuff a better deal than several hours of drawn out drama.

Baffling in parts but well worth seeing in our view.