It might have had something to do with one of the FoodCycle head office communications team joining our shift at FoodCycle Marylebone in January. Soon after that, I had a message from someone else in communications there wondering whether we’d be prepared to be featured as a Valentine’s story.
It would have been churlish to say no.
We had no action pictures of us working together on FoodCycle in our FoodCycle shirts, except for some masked-up ones for the pandemic days. I asked if a sofa-selfie would do and we were told “yes”.
Don’t ask how many goes it took for us to obtain the half-decent picture that was used.
I should imagine that the library book club occasionally has evenings about books that don’t revolve around gritty Yorkshire cricketers whom I once met. But Ray Illingworth, like Geoffrey Boycott, had the joy of my company once. In Illingworth’s case, for considerably longer than my one-minute exchange with Geoffrey in 1969.
Janie’s interest in cricket tends to revolve around the people, so these talks about biographies please her, as does the charming, relaxed atmosphere of a light meal and talk on a winter’s evening.
We were seated next to Alan Rees, who runs the library and who introduced the speaker, Mark Peel, who was seated to Alan’s right. It was fortuitous sitting near to Alan, as he can help me find some rare real tennis history books in the MCC’s extensive collection to help with my research. A really pleasant, friendly and helpful chap.
Alan looks remarkably calm in the above picture, although he confessed to Janie that he feels nervous introducing such evenings. Alan’s calm look in such a photo reminds me of the deceptively calm look on my face when I am doing something that makes me very nervous, such as riding an elephant.
I don’t look terrified, but…
The pachyderm image leads us nicely to the subject of Ray Illingworth, who must have been one of the thickest-skinned cricketers ever to play for Yorkshire and England…which is a cohort of especially hardened characters.
Of course I met Ray in his dotage, by which time he had softened in the way that legends often do. I told him, as I am now telling you, dear reader, that I started taking an interest in cricket in the early 1970s, when he was the England Captain. I couldn’t really imagine anyone else being the England Captain until, all of a sudden, in 1974, someone else was.
Mark’s talk was excellent. Lots of detail, lots of interesting anecdotes, all delivered with aplomb. Mark also answered all of our questions thoughtfully and in depth.
Undeterred by the “strangely reflected” pictures Janie took last time, she couldn’t resist taking some pictures pointing away from the Writing Room, where the meal takes place. Again, she obtained a rather weird effect but I rather like this one.
Our first visit to the theatre of 2024 and it was worth the wait.
Set in an NHS mental health service unit for juveniles, the play tells the simple story of a youngster who enters the workplace imagining that he might make a difference in a hurry.
Then reality bites.
The play is beautifully written by Sophia Chetin-Leuner, and very well directed by Ed Madden, who should, if nothing else, pick up a nominative determinism award for directing this particular piece.
Despite the plethora of short scenes, the story and characterisation develop organically and clearly over the 90 minutes or so of the piece. I had to suspend a fair bit of belief around the central conceit that a youngster might implement an NHS patient administration system alone in just a few weeks without encountering or causing any profound issues, but that only proves that I have spent too much of my working life thinking about informatics.
The cast all performed their parts convincingly, with top marks to Debra Baker who played the “seen it all before administrator” Angela.
Denzel Baidoo was the most comedic of the three, playing the naïve trainee Jay. One short scene, set to music, when Jay thinks he is alone in the office will live long in our memories.
If you are reading this piece soon after I have upped it, you have a chance still to see this production at The Bush, as it has been extended to 7 March. In Janie’s and my opinion, it deserves a transfer to gain a wider audience. It is a fun piece that made us both laugh a lot, but it also tackles a great many pertinent issues of our times in a thoughtful and warm-hearted way.
We sat directly behind Andrew McGregor, who presented the concert for BBC Radio 3 listeners. It is the first time we have ever sat in those seats, which was enlightening and slightly distracting in equal measure. We did at least, from there, hear what the presenter is telling the Radio 3 audience, which is often a bit more than can be found on the programme.
Actually, for this concert, most of what we wanted was in the programme, which can be found through the Wigmore Hall link or, if that ever fails, here.
If you are finding this within a month or so of the concert, then you can hear it on BBC Sounds – click here.
In the concert hall we got a sweet encore by Pietro Locatelli, which made me realise that I had paid that composer far too little attention, so we listened to a fair smattering of Locatelli when we got home. We also discussed his football skills and his magnificence as a restaurateur.
One of the finest composers Juventus ever produced? And as for Zafferano…
I wrote up my experience of the MCC Tennis Weekend as a “Secret Diary” piece which found its way onto the MCC website as the authoritative report on the event.
As everything I wanted to say about that most enjoyable weekend is contained in that report, I replicate it here, with the links to other resources for anyone who might be interested.
The Secret 2024 MCC Tennis Club Weekend Diary Of Ian Harris, Aged Sixty-One And Five Twelfths
I felt excited and fearful in equal measure when I learned that I had been promoted to Group B of the MCC Club Weekend this year. Surely Group C is where I belong. The pros told me that Group B, this year, would be for 50-60 handicappers, like me.
I was to partner the actor Ian Falconer, with whom I had played a fair bit before. He can exert a calming and experienced influence over me. Anyway, there was no time to fret on Friday morning, as we played two tough matches, both of which we won; the second by quite some margin. My sense of imposter syndrome begone.
Ian Falconer said that I left the ball well in that second match. That reminded me of comments I have oft received about my cricket batting; that my best shot is the leave. Less kindly folk tell me that, apart from the block, the leave is my only cricket shot.
Our group then had a 24-hour break from the tennis, until Saturday afternoon. I enjoyed the convivial Friday evening dinner, with great company, great grub and surprisingly interesting speeches, not least from the Chairman, Bruce Carnegie-Brown, who broke the good news to us that real tennis play during test matches should be restored henceforward, with just a small risk of occasional interruption for media purposes.
Ian Falconer was unable to attend the dinner, as he is deep into rehearsal for a play in which he plays a domineering father. He was also to attend an audition the next morning, for a film role as Hitler.
Less aware of my partner’s acting techniques than his tennis techniques, I worried overnight that Ian might be a practitioner of The Method. If so, that calm, gentle, encouraging persona I had previously experienced, might be replaced with something…less comforting and more shouty. I decided that we should agree a safety phrase, “who do you think you are kidding, Mr Falconer?”, just in case matters got out of hand for the rest of the weekend. I am pleased to report that neither of us needed to resort to the safety phrase.
Saturday’s battles in our group were really close. We managed one (narrow) win and a draw, leaving us top of the table and qualified for a semi-final before the final day. All groups (including ours) had at least one, if not both, semi-final places up for grabs still on the Sunday.
There were many distractions for tennis-loving MCC folk early that Sunday morning. First thing, at home, I followed the India v England test match, the Australia v West Indies test, the Australian Open (lawn tennis) Men’s final and the live stream from Lord’s of our tournament. “Isn’t this a bit too much stimulation before you play?”, asked my wife, Janie. “Probably”, said I. By the time I set off for Lord’s, I knew that our pair had won Group B whatever happened in our last group match.
I got to Lord’s in time to see the final wicket fall in the India v England test along with my tennis friends in the dedans gallery, which was a wonderful watching moment ahead of playing our final group match. We lost that match narrowly, despite having been ahead. “Foreshadowing”, as my dramaturge/actor tennis partner might well say.
We enjoyed lunch in the Long Room Bar between our last group match and the semi-final. All three days, in fact, lunch is an informal pleasure as part of this tournament. An opportunity to chat with friends, old and new, in convivial surroundings. The glorious sunshine all three afternoons added to that pleasure.
The tale of the Groups C/D category was one of mostly close-fought matches during the group stages. That characteristic persisted into the finals stages, with, in particular, a nail-biting semi-final Brunner & Vacher v Nelson & Stain. The Group C/D final, Brunner & Vacher v Lark & McDermott was similarly close and exciting to watch. Congratulations to the winners: Peter Brunner & Piers Vacher.
In the Groups A/B category, the main story was the dominance of the Cattermull & Parkes pairing. My own semi-final, Falconer & Harris v Bishop & Whiting, was one of the most exciting matches I have ever played. We had our chances…we came close. The final, Bishop & Whiting v Cattermull & Parkes, was one-sided in the final score, but was an excellent display of good tennis by all four players. It was just the relentless consistency of Paul Cattermull & Rufus Parkes, despite giving up significant handicaps, that saw them dominate their matches and storm home with the trophy.
It was a superb weekend which should live long in the memory. The organisers – Hannah and Dinesh, the professionals – Chris, Chris and Alex, and the tennis committee – especially Giles and Graeme, all deserve our thanks and praise.
In the first half, Michele Rabbia, Gianluca Petrella and Eivind Aarset played their unusual style of electronically-enhanced ambient music, mostly pieces from the album Lost River.
Here’s an example piece – Nimbus
One lady in our row, clearly not keen on electronically enhanced jazz, decided not to stick around for the second half. That’s a shame, because it was very different and not electronically enhanced at all.
Avishai Cohen and Yonathan Avishai have been friends since they were kids and the camaraderie really showed. Their set mostly came form the album “Playing The Room”.
Here’s a sample from that:
Here is a live video of them playing a lullaby, which i think they used as their encore:
Not a concert to set your pulse racing, but two very interesting acts and a good way to start concert-going in 2024.
The Christmas Eve shift was the busiest, as volunteer numbers were down that day for some reason. We like being busy and don’t like the sense that we are somewhat surplus even for part of our eight hour shift, so that one, for us, was the highlight.
Most of the guests seemed delighted with the meal we served them, but one guest was convinced that his food was cold, even though he refused to try it to confirm his hypothesis. His sour life was rendered yet more sour by dint of the cold plate of food, he told me. When i replaced it with another plate from the same hot tray serve din the same way, he tucked in.
Boxing Day, which the previous year had been quite busy, was a sedate affair with plenty of people around to do the requisite tasks. We again (as in 2022) had mixed reviews for the “can you run a coffee stall?” test, with some of the team leaders praising our “barristabilities”, while other attendees challenged that perception.
For reasons never explained, some of the team leaders brought in cardboard cut-outs of celebrities (I think to judge the talent show). Daisy and I failed epically to identify the celebs.
30 December was a different vibe with the Week Two team being mostly different people – at least the leadership team is different from Week One. Mostly people we had met in Week Two the year before.
We got to staff a health screening registration desk for a while, which was a bit different. We also got to hone our coffee stall skills under new management, which seemed to go very well despite our mixed reviews passim.
One encouraging sign, for us, is that very few of the 2023 guests were returnees from 2022. Word is that the work done over Christmas is getting a good proportion of the guests into a more positive loop, enabling many to get away from homelessness after their stay. That’s a large part of what our work is about and that thought makes it hugely rewarding.
So, with Crisis done for the 2023 Christmas, that’s us back to FoodCycle in early 2024:
Rumour has it that we are to be FoodCycle “poster-children” in February. Watch this space.
Oh, and if you were wondering why Daisy has two badges and I only have one…one of us forgot to bring their badge on the third day. Who knows if we’ll be invited back again in such circumstances.
This photo and others from Skills Night by Conor Coley, with thanks
Skills Night At Lord’s 1 November 2023
Lord’s Skills Nights, now held twice-yearly, have become “my thing”, by dint of me, foolishly, offering to help back in 2019. Foolishly, because I thought “help” might mean adding a bit of extra resource to a well-managed thing, rather than, as it turned out, replacing the manager who used to manage the well-managed thing. Thank you, Johnny Whiting.
Still, in truth I enjoy managing it as much of not more than I enjoyed playing it. The curry and wine afterwards always was the highlight and I can certainly still participate in that aspect.
At least i get to curate the prize-giving, providing room for all manner of subsidiary prizes and opportunities to give away gimcrack.
Most Valuable Player Award – a millionaire every timeThe Close But No Cigar Award
If you have an MCC login – everything you ever wanted to know about his event but were afraid to ask can be found here. In the unlikely event that someone else wants to read my match report in excruciating detail, click here.
Lord’s Club Nights, 16 November and 13 December 2023
By similar method, although slightly less formal, Steven Bishop managed to finesse a seemingly one-off request to “look after Club Night” for him on one occasion just before the pandemic, into “I’m basically not really in London midweek any more…” me looking after Club Night most months.
This informal evening can be curated while playing, which I very much enjoy doing on these occasions. We get a mixture of regulars and newbies. It is always possible to mix and match, to make the evening fun and good practice for most if not all who attend.
An Afternoon Watching Really Real Doubles At Queen’s, 17 November 2023
The only slot of the British Open that worked for me this year – I very much enjoyed a few hours at Queen’s watching proper real tennis doubles on Quarter-Finals afternoon. I saw Rob Fahey and Nicky Howell overcome Levi Gale & Lewis Williams, then John Lumley & Steve Virgona defeat Claire Fahey and Louis Gordon. A pleasant afternoon, during which time I ran into several people I know, which is more or less guaranteed if you go to see real tennis.
Dedanist’s Lunch At Lemonia Followed By Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinner At Spaghetti House Holborn, 14 December 2023
A Highlight of the real tennis year is the Dedanist’s seasonal lunch, at Lemonia. On this occasion I needed to be reasonably abstemious because OI was going on that evening to the annual Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinner afterwards.
But reasonably abstemious still allowed for a glass-and-a-half of wine, some tasty grub and excellent company.
The photo below from the Ivan Shakespeare, not The Dedanist’s.
Since lockdown, we’ve not been going to the theatre anything like as much as we did before. Partly, I suppose, because we got out of the habit. Partly, we think, because there is not so much to our taste on offer, as theatres tend to play it safe, with many more revivals and musicals on offer than we remember in the past.
Indeed this was our first visit to the Hampstead Theatre since lockdown, although we have kept our membership going throughout. Our previous visit to Hampstead theatre was to see The Haystack, just before lockdown.
In these difficult times, Janie and I wanted to see something light-hearted and yet with some serious aspects to it. This looked like it would fit that bill and indeed it did.
Janie and I tend to enjoy Richard Bean’s plays – we have seen several. To Have And To Hold was an enjoyable evening at the theatre.
The play avoided the worst excesses of drama about elderly parents, which can easily fall victim to tired cliché and, in our case, a sense that “we can get all that at home”!
In the event, I read a bit more into the play than Janie did, until we discussed it afterwards. Janie sensed that she had gone with the comedic flow of the play without reading as much into it as I had. In particular, I thought there was interesting irony and pathos in a nonagenarian, sharp-sensed former policeman being scammed, at least in part because of his digital exclusion as well as his physical frailty.
Great cast for this one: Alun Armstrong, Marion Bailey, Rachel Dale, Hermione Gulliford, Christopher Fulford and Adrian Hood. All played their parts well, under the joint directorship of Richard Wilson and Terry Johnson.
Here is a vid of the two Richards (Wilson & Bean) discussing this play/production:
And there was me, into my 7th decade, thinking, until now, that something else comes after The Lord Mayor’s Show.
But then, in early October, I was “perfectly astounded”, to quote Charles Pooter, to receive the following invitation:
Unaccustomed as I am to attending white tie events, this meant a trip to the costume hire shop, Buckleigh Of London in my case, together with Daisy who acted as my sartorial advisor.
“Yup, that’ll do for the do“
A month later, off I trotted to the Z/Yen office, with my whistle and flute in a specially designed suiter, where I changed out of mufti. No I am not a natural in the matter of costume changes.
The Lord Mayor’s Banquet is far more formal than that – no singing, no dancing, just food, drink and speeches.
The reception ahead of dinner was a great opportunity for me to catch up with several old friends and also to speak with Michael’s family, not least his mum, Katherine, whom I missed at The Lord Mayor’s Show. I also spoke with a few new people (new to me, that is).
Then the dinner. I was sitting with an interesting collection of people – opposite me and to my right Tim and Sandi, who had been at school with Michael. Tim I had met before, at Michael and Elisabeth’s wedding. Also on that “to my right” side was Father Bill (Michael’s former maths teacher), Robert Pay and Susan Steele. To my left, people I hadn’t met before but all charming: Judith Pleasance, Philip Palumbo, Philip Woodhouse and Clare Felton. We found many and varied interesting topics to discuss over dinner, only some of which are on the unwritten “safe to discuss at formal dinners” list. Edgy.
This is what we ate and drank.
The cast list of speech makers comprised The Lord Mayor & The Prime Minister (between Course Two and Course Three), then The Archbishop Of Canterbury and The Lord Chancellor after dinner.
You can watch a vid of the speechifying if you wish:
Michael mostly laid out his agenda for his mayoral year, which you can read/skim about here. He included a joke, which, while I paraphrase, goes a bit like this:
Into a bar walks an American economist, an Irish writer, an English accountant and an Italian scientist. The barman says, “good evening Michael, what are you having?”
Rishi Sunak, as is the custom for The Lord Mayor’s Banquet, spoke about foreign affairs, the crises in Gaza and Ukraine being his main focus. Rishi understandably didn’t crack any jokes. I’m not sure jokes would be Rishi’s strongest suit even in more jovial times.
After the two “afters” courses, The Archbishop of Canterbury was entertaining, with an interesting mixture of a serious, pious, skittish and downright malcontented points.
…which is far more than I can say about the other speakers…apart from Michael, of course, with whom I have worked for nearly 35 years.
Last but not least was The Lord Chancellor, Alex Chalk, who was also in somewhat skittish mood. He picked up on Michael’s joke, and pondered about a bloke who had so many different things on his CV. Again I paraphrase:
Economist, scientist, accountant, writer…I thought, “this fellow doesn’t seem able to hold down a job”.
My first thought was to heckle:
…but that’s the whole point of Z/Yen – it’s a place where you can work while you decide what you want to be when you grow up…
…but I thought better of it. A brawl one visit, a heckle the next…I might gain an unwanted, though perhaps warranted, reputation at The Guildhall as a bit of a subversive.
Then it occurred to me that The Lord Chancellor, with all due respect to him, was hardly one to talk about holding on to a job. He has already “Chalked up” his fifth job since the start of the pandemic – indeed he seemed relieved that he wasn’t moved to a sixth job in three years in the cabinet reshuffle that had taken up much of Rishi’s day earlier.
In truth, I think the best joke of the evening was my own, albeit an inadvertent one. Immediately after the formalities ended, I chatted again with the Mainelli clan. Michael’s sister, Molly, asked me what I thought of the evening. I paraphrase our chat.
MOLLY: So what did you think of it all.
ME: A lovely evening, lovely.
MOLLY: What did you think about the fruitcake at the end?
ME: Do you mean the Archbishop of Canterbury or the Lord Chancellor?
MOLLY: You’re so naughty. You know I meant the cheese and fruitcake…
The thing is, I hadn’t experienced that cheese course, as it was walnut-based and I had reported ahead of time my nut allergy. For the final course, the caterers had kindly provided me with a “mushrooms on toast” savoury. So I hadn’t registered that the cheese savoury had been served with fruitcake and really imagined that Molly had found one of the closing speeches a bit left-field.
Mercifully, I don’t think anyone other than Molly heard my faux pas. Equally mercifully, I didn’t burst into song when the savoury was served…
…although that John Shuttleworth classic always pops into my head on the rare occasions I attend a dinner that reverts to savoury at the end.
After enjoying a few minutes catching up with friends and (Michael’s) family in the Old Library, I returned to the office to change back into mufti and get home before I risked causing any more trouble.
