In truth, the pomp and circumstance of The Lord Mayor’s Show is not really “our thing” – neither Janie nor I had ever been before, nor had either of us even watched the show on TV.
But in these circumstances, with Michael being the incoming Lord Mayor and all, it seemed only polite to accept the invitation to see the show as a guest of The Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress at the Mansion House.
But returning to November 2023, before the show, I wanted to show Janie the Z/Yen office at 1 King William Street, just around the corner from Mansion House, as Janie had not yet seen that “new” office. Nor had she seen the oft-mentioned roof terrace. It was also an excuse to make sure we would be on time, while still able to take some warm sanctuary indoors before the Mansion House opened its doors. At least half the Z/Yen team had taken a similar precaution.
Janie loves a roof terrace: 1 King William Street does not disappoint in that regard
Then Janie and I popped around the corner to the Mansion House. I suppose I’ll be popping around that corner a few times in the coming year. Following pre-show refreshments, in which we did not partake, Janie and I were stewarded to our pavement seats right at the front, underneath The Lord Mayor’s viewing position, next to Michael’s brother Kelly. I don’t think we’d seen each other since Michael’s shrieval ceremonies four years ago:
Janie, despite her stated lack of interest in pomp and circumstance, was irritated with herself for forgetting her phone and therefore being without a camera. I allowed her to use mine, on the proviso that she didn’t use up all my film. Janie, cognisant that phone cameras don’t use up film (she knows a thing or two, that lass), proceeded to take about 300 pictures, only 20% of which were fully deserving of the bin.
The weather absolutely smiled on the City of London that day. We have had a rather relentlessly wet autumn in 2023, so all assembled thought we had struck very lucky…except for the (surprisingly sizeable) minority who were convinced that Michael Mainelli is able to control the weather and therefore the crisp but sunny day was by design.
Regardless of how or why the weather ended up so good, it did make for an especially photogenic show. As did the fact that there was an even broader international flavour to the parade than usual.
If you would prefer a brief highlights skim through eye candy and a few choice words, then read and look on.
Evidence that I was there. Just one picture of me amongst the hundreds.Xenia Mainelli (Michael & Elisabeth’s daughter) at the rear of this mounted troupeMichael arrives
After the Armistice Day two-minute silence, the parade began. Here is a small sample of our (Janie’s) pictures.
Janie formed a surprising fondness for the giant effigies Gog & MagogI was able to explain the true and fictional stories of Richard/Dick Whittington to Kelly and Joan seated next to me. I guess Michael and Elisabeth knew I’d have my uses sitting there.Pageantry west meets pageantry eastListen up! The late Mayor’s key charity, The Samaritans – Janie is one of their listeners.Punjabi dancing well-timed for DiwaliVic Reeves aka Jim Moir with his arty crowdA Lord Mayor’s Show delegation from Lagos for the first time“Oh goody. Chigley…” said Janie at this stage of the showA Mongolian themed troupe, for theatrical reasons I believeJanie loved the Hong Kong dragons perhaps as much as Gog & MagogMichael’s partial to a puffin. The Institute of Couriers pandered to that preferenceAlderfolk – the boys and girls on the bus90 minutes later, the pageant was over, once Michael set off for The Royal Courts of Justice.O farewell, Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, th’ ear-piercing fife; The royal banner, and all quality.
Then milling to get back inside the Mansion House, a light lunch and some socialising/chatting before setting off for home.
If you are keen to see the BBC broadcast of this event but don’t know where to find it – as long as you have found this piece within 11 months, you can see it by clicking here.
…I thought I’d try to track down Mr Sandbrook, and indeed, a few day’s later, as reported in the above piece, I received a message from “Ian” addressed to “Ian”. Eventually it dawned on me that “Mr Sandbrook” and “Harris” were now, a mere 50 years later, on first name terms.
A few days after that, in response to my somewhat inquisitive follow-up, Ian wrote the following charming tour d’horizon of the past 50 years and a few Alleyn’s memories from his perspective.
Ian has kindly granted me permission to publish it here. It is reproduced below verbartim.
This image borrowed from LinkedIn
I’ve never been good at the alumni thing; I have lost touch with people with whom I have been close as I have moved to other places and situations and I have found that the few reunions I have attended have been rather hard work. But that hasn’t stopped me from wondering – frequently – what became of individuals who, somewhat unpredictably, surface from the past and come into brief but often quite sharp focus for a while.
So this 50 year-old blast from the past is quite a strange experience. I am very gratified to think that our trip to Scapino proved to be significant in some way; and I am amused that my ruse about looking for spelling errors on the blackboard has stuck in your memories. Funny to think too about how much has moved on – not many blackboards around in schools these days. Seeing the full form list of 1S set my synapses singing, although sadly only with tiny snatches of song.
I was only at Alleyns for 2 years, although they feel, in retrospect, to have been rich and full years. The salient memories were to do with the feel of the classrooms, hockey, snooker, the flat I shared with Dr Dave Wallace in Calton Avenue, particular staff such as Barry Banson, Colin Rowse, Paul Kingman – to name just a few.
Oddly enough, it was because of my role as the first-year form tutor of 1S that I moved on. I had decided that it would be a good idea to visit one or two of the schools from whom members of the class had come. Heber Primary School, in East Dulwich (which was rather rougher and tougher then than the somewhat gentrified district that it is now) was one of these. When I went to visit, the headteacher there persuaded me that I should switch to primary teaching and, cutting a longer story short, this is what I did. From there I moved into headship (at Rosendale Juniors, not far away) and on into the ILEA inspectorate. Thence to Hampshire’s school inspection and advisory service and then, eventually, to become Director of Education in Southampton. I completed my paid career with a five year freelance period as interim director of children’s services in various local authorities and as an educational consultant.
You did well to find me via Endelienta Arts. When I was a consultant in the noughties, I had a website which included a full CV. But the education consultant market contracted sharply in 2010 when austerity cut sharply into local authority budgets. My wife and I moved to North Cornwall, which we had come to know and love after my playing annually in the St Endellion Easter (classical music) Festival (also since 1973). While we were there, we helped to set up a new charity, Endelienta Arts, to run a year-round arts programme to complement the music festivals. Endelienta Arts is alive and well, responsible for regular concerts across the music genres, the North Cornwall Book Festival, reflective days, and a thriving arts outreach programme.
We moved to Lewes in December 2020 – mid lockdown – because we wanted to be closer to our grandchildren who are in Brighton and Tottenham. I’m still involved with the St Endellion Festivals in Cornwall but we are building a life in Lewes – singing in a choir, being a school governor, doing various bits of voluntary work, tending an allotment, lots of walking on the Downs, lots of culture – very much enjoying being part of a (slightly quirky) 15-minute community.
This is probably enough to answer the “I wonder what happened to him ?” question. Thank you for going to the trouble to make contact – and for the work that you do to keep the 1S community alive. As I said when I responded initially, it is gratifying to discover that one has left little bits of legacy in one’s slipstream – but it is only through the likes of you that I get to make such discoveries !
My very best wishes to all who might remember me from my brief but rewarding time at Alleyns.
I really enjoyed and was moved reading this note. Janie liked it too when I read it out to her. I feel sure that many Alleyn’s 1970s alums will appreciate the note. Thank you, Ian.
But there is just one small thing, Sir…I mean, Ian. I have spotted a spelling mistake in your e-mail. The same mistake appears twice. Does that mean I can claim 10p or 20p?
No-one likes a cocky little 11-year-old. Worse yet, one who is still cocky after all these years.
Frankly, only Candappa could come up with an idea like this and see it through to implementation.
When I call my friend Rohan Candappa just “Candappa”, I am of course harking back to that time, 50 years ago, when we started secondary school and discovered that we all had surnames but none of us seemed to have first names.
Candappa – bellicose back then……merely cantankerous now: Rohan Candappa
The gathering was at The Young Vic, in commemoration of the first theatrical school trip of our young careers, with Mr Sandbrook himself, to see Scapino, in January 1974:
Dress code: Grey suits (too large ideally, but don’t worry, you’ll grow into it), black briefcases, and a slightly nervous smile. Oh, and make sure you’ve got some blotting paper in the briefcase.
I knew that I would be unable to comply fully with Rohan’s rules and also that I was no longer in a position to get my (late) mother to write a note of apology to Mr Sandbrook, our form teacher. I decided to commission ChatGPT to forge a note from my mum. It took four or five goes, as ChatGPT, unwilling to imagine itself in 1973 writing a note, was keen to use the phrase “1973 was a long time ago” as part of the excuse. Only when I advised it to use a “dog ate my homework” style of excuse did it muster the following:
Interesting use of a gender-neutral pronoun there. Not very 1973.
It was always only going to be a small group of us. In the end, only four of us met, as Dave French unfortunately was a bit poorly on the day. He did send an extensive note, which I shall quote from shortly.
The four of us who met were:
Candappa, Rohan
Goodwin, Ian
Maine, Myles
Harris, Ian (me).
Left to right, Me, Myles, Rohan, t’other Ian
We called the register – strangely while I was calling the register from my old 1974 diary, Dave French was sending me a message which included said register with some thoughts about the people, especially those who have sadly departed.
Dave French helpfully provided a legible list, when he wrote in to us:
Please raise a glass or three in my absence to:
Allott
Athaide
Barrett
Burgess
Candappa – Candy
Carroll
Corrin
Dallaway
Feeley
Foord – Dunkie
Forrest
Frearson
French – Frog
Goodwin – Milk
Handy
Harley
Hayes
Hollingshead – Mutt
Manhood
Masson – Chimpy
Mayne
Moore
Ricketts
Romain – Charlie
Sym
Stendall
🍻🍻🍻
One sobering thought was the realisation that at least four of our number have departed permanently. That’s at least as many departed as gathered that October evening. An attrition rate above 15% seems very high.
Jovito Athaide – as Dave French wrote: “I think it was in the early 1990s that I received a call from Jovito Athaide’s dad, letting me know he’d died suddenly from an undetected heart condition.” I think quite a few of us got this call – my parents probably told me about it without passing on my new number to Mr Athaide. I have an address and phone number for Jo in an old address book – I should imagine he made a point of collecting/exchanging them.
Dave Masson – Dave French writes: “I and a few others stayed very close to Dave Chimpy Masson for many years after school – very fond memories in the sixth form of going back to his house at 66 Woodwarde Road, 5 minutes from school, either at lunch or during free periods, to drink his home brew – made maths more tolerable in the afternoon. Devastatingly he and his mother-in-law died in a car crash in Namibia in 1995…his birthday, December 4th, is ingrained in my memory, and I always say “Hi” and raise a glass to him. Lovely guy”.
Yet the four of us who gathered in October 2023 were able to park our melancholy, enjoy each other’s company enormously and share many reminiscences.
Rohan, being Rohan, brought a small collection of gifts for all of us who attended – a fountain pen, a piece of blotting paper and a notebook which he had craftily renamed G.W.B for general work book – gosh yes, I remember those.
Gifted, we were, all of us gifted.
Naturally, when I got home I wrote Rohan a thank you note in my GWB using my fountain pen and blotting paper.
I then scanned the note and e-mailed it to Rohan, which slightly spoiled the 1973 effect.
My favourite anecdote from 50 years ago was also one of Rohan’s. He recalled that, in one of our very first lessons with Mr Sandbrook, we were promised a princely sum of money – perhaps it was 10p – every time we spotted a spelling or grammatical mistake on the blackboard. Rohan recalls that it took him most of the year to realise that he was very unlikely indeed to hit pay dirt. Rather, Mr Sandbrook had duped him into paying attention to the spelling and grammar for best part of a year.
On the topic of Mr Sandbrook, I had exchanged e-mails with Rohan about the possibility of trying to track Ian Sandbrook down. Rohan said that he had tried to do that, but with only limited success. On the morning before our gathering, I decided to do a bit of detective work myself. I decided that an Ian Sandbrook who seemed to be highly active in the arts community of St Endellion, even since the days of teaching us, was still active there until very recently. The others agreed that the Endelienta bassoon reference clinched it, as we remembered Mr Sandbrook bringing his bassoon into the class room to show us.
I decided to write to Mr Sandbrook via Endelienta and see what happens.
On 1 November, an e-mail arrived from “Ian” addressed to “Ian”…
…it took me a while to realise that Mr Sandbrook really had just written to me. He’d like to know how we got on when we met, so I’ll send him a link to this piece. Hopefully he will send through some thoughts and memories of his own, in addition to the thoughts he wrote in his first note. He might even grant me permission to share those thoughts with the Alleyn’s 1970s alums on Facebook, several dozen of whom tend to look at these postings, however long and rambling they might be. Even Mike Jones, formally of the masters common room, hangs out in the Alleyn’s 1970s Facebook group.
Oh, and by the way, there are no cash prizes for spotting my spelling and grammatical errors. I’m not falling for that one. But all subediting comments and corrections are gratefully received.
Annalisa Redux, Lunch At Antalya In Bloomsbury, 17 October 2023
As part of my Ogblog project, I am writing up events of 25, 40 & 50 years ago from old diaries and records. A few weeks ago I wrote up Annalisa’s wedding from 25 years ago…
…and thought I should make a concerted effort to reconnect with Annalisa. I was able to track down Charlotte, Annalisa’s sister, with relative ease. Charlotte put me back in touch with Annalisa, and the result of all that was a very pleasant, long lunch at Antalya Restaurant.
We had a fair bit of catching up to do, so many years having passed, yet in many ways it felt a bit like catching up after two or three months, not two or three decades, except that the news had a longer span, as it were.
Annalisa back then. Shorter hair now.
We’ve resolved to try not to leave it 25 years again. Given the entreaties from my other two mid-October gatherings (see below) that they would love to see Annalisa again, I suspect that we’ll find a way to make it a considerably shorter interval next time.
Jilly Black & The Peculiar Matter Of “Rachmaninov Pulling Nudes”, 20 October 2023
Peculiar Serge (Rachmaninov)
I have for some while been helping Jilly to digitise her family photographs from an assortment of different types of negative, transparency, printed pictures and the like. This occasional project hit the temporal buffers over the summer (not least because Jilly’s chosen days tended to end up as train strike days), so was in need of revival.
I more or less expect to receive a note from Jilly explaining why she will be arriving later than the appointed hour (never really a problem for me, given that we are working on this project at the flat), but on this occasion the WhatsApp message gave me pause for thought:
I had to clean an extremely dirty oven and have a coffee…[something about almond milk]…and some Rachmaninov pulling nudes at the same time
I read the message twice, concluded that Jilly must have taken leave of her senses and hunkered down with whatever it was that I was doing for another hour or so before her revised expected arrival time.
Just before Jilly arrived, another message:
OH NO! It was supposed to be “Rachmaninov Preludes”, NOT “pulling nudes”
A Beautiful Rachmaninov PRELUDE
As I kindly and considerately put it in my reply:
Ha ha. That’s going straight onto the blog at the next available opportunity.
Jilly blames the technology for that verbal mishap, which I must say seems, in truth, entirely reasonable. Annalisa will no doubt have a quiet chuckle to herself about that, as I had been banging on about how much more reliable these technologies have become in recent years…which they have…but when they get it wrong, oh boy can they get it wrong!
Anyway, as always, a very pleasant lunch and afternoon with Jilly, during which we not only digitised quite a lot of her non-standard family negatives but Jilly kindly helped me to identify the locations of my family pictures from Sicily nearly 50 years ago, as Jilly did some tour-guiding there “back in the day”.
Jilly’s Dad from a 120 (60×60) negative – possibly playing a Rachmaninov Prelude
John-Boy Forking Madeleine At The End Of A Fine Meal At Jikoni, 24 October 2023
Dinner with John is always long overdue, because if we were both in town more often and had more time on our hands our get togethers would be far more frequent.
I hadn’t realised, but Bella (John & Mandy’s younger daughter) is really into cooking now, both as a hobby and latterly at work. John spotted the Jikoni cook books and decided to treat Bella to one of them.
Ravinder Bhogal (the chef/proprietor/author) took the trouble to chat with us and make a personalised dedication to Bella in the book, which I thought was a charming touch.
As always with John, the evening flew by and on this occasion we found ourselves the last people in the restaurant. We realised once we spotted that the staff were oh-so-discreetly clearing up around us!
But the thing that made this concert so very special was the extraordinary piece we heard. Emilio de’ Cavalieri’s Rappresentatione di Anima, et di Corpo.
Vox Luminis are a wonderful outfit who don’t tend to disappoint. This evening was no exception. They perform with smiles on their faces and clearly celebrate each other’s and their joint success.
Here is a trailer of Vox Luminis performing this very piece in 2021 in Utrecht. Different soloists, but you can’t have everything:
Janie and I are not easily wowed these days – we’ve seen a lot of excellent concerts in our time, but this one blew our metaphorical socks off. Delicious music, sounding a little different from anything we’ve heard before from that period. Sweeter than Monteverdi oratorios, but loads going on in the soundscape.
The building “set back” with a turret in the above picture is the original Tudor-period covered tennis court at Hampton Court Palace, with several walls remaining, one of which is part of the current, Stuart-period covered court, which is on the site of the original uncovered court.
Thanks to Janie for most of the pictures and all the videos (apart from the professional highlights vid).
Whose idea was it to have a real tennis-themed event at Hampton Court? As the event proved to be a great success, Tim Connell is claiming full responsibility for the idea. Meanwhile, I am claiming at least to have inspired the idea with my lockdown webinar, Tennis Around The Time Of Thomas Gresham, in 2020.
Full credit to Tim for the timing of the event – he insisted that we try to find a sweet spot between the summer holidays and the weather turning autumnal. A hostage to fortune, perhaps, but the timing worked brilliantly, as we were blessed with a sunny but not too hot afternoon for the event.
The good people at the Royal Tennis Court, Hampton Court (RTCHC) were incredibly helpful in allowing us to hold the event and facilitating same, from the initial conversation I had about it with Lesley Ronaldson the previous autumn right through to the day itself. Thanks to all named below plus Nick Wood, the RTCHC Head Professional, without whose blessing none of this would have been possible.
The History Of The Court & Explaining The Game, David Best, Lesley Ronaldson & Jack Josephs
Yours truly introducing David Best
Lesley very kindly suggested that David Best, who wrote THE book on the history of the Royal Tennis Court, speak to our group on that topic. David even more kindly agreed to speak and also to join in our brief “exhibition” to demonstrate the game.
RTCHC’s junior professional, Jack Josephs, did most of the game explaining. Two years ago, when I first met Jack at Middlesex University’s court, he was a complete newbie!
Both Lesley and Jack talked a lot of balls…I mean, talked a lot ABOUT balls
After hearing about it, Gresham Society members and guests were invited to have a go. Surprisingly, many tried…
Unsurprisingly, few succeeded. It is a fiendishly difficult game, even for moderately talented regular enthusiasts. For neophytes it is even harder than that.
Basil’s first ever hit of a Real Tennis ball skimmed beautifully over the net. The second did not – Basil claims that it was poorly delivered.Tim & Bobbie; “close but no cigar” in the matter of hitting the ball over the netJanie’s technique looks wanting, but she landed chases with each of her goes
Then a short exhibition, during which David Best and I, ably assisted by a professional on each side – thank you Jack & thank you Scott Blaber – demonstrated through a short match how it should and shouldn’t be done. Lesley supplied the commentary, as did the players when at the service end.
Janie shot very little video of the exhibition match…”thank goodness” I hear many readers cry…but here is a short snippet to give you an idea:
If you want to see what the game looks like at the highest level, the following six minute reel of highlights shows the very top professionals at play:
Tea & Cake
Then, for the Gresham Society visitors and their guests it was time for tea and cake. In truth I hadn’t realised, when the RTCHC people said that they would lay on tea and cake, that “Lesley Ronaldson’s home made cake” is what they meant.
Had I known that, I wouldn’t have teased Lesley by e-mail a couple of days before with the words:
No pressure, but my wife, Janie, will be judging the whole event on her piece of cake.
Former US Open Champions / World Championship Finalists are not deterred such entreaties. As we know, champions adjust and pressure is a privilege.
Lesley “pulled off a blinder” in the matter of the home made cakes, to such an extent that Janie was too busy enjoying the tea break to photograph same until most of the sweet delicacies had been well and truly devoured.
The weather was simply glorious at that stage of the afternoon, allowing the visitors to enjoy the wonderful tea and cakes in the garden – hence the barren look of the dining room in the above photo.
The visitors took some marshalling back into the dedans gallery for the final part of the visit, a performance symposium, led by yours truly, on the topic of “Hampton Court, Tennis, Gresham, Music & Drama”.
The performance was ably supported by Jack Carter and Reuben Ard, tennis-playing music graduate / research students from Middlesex University Real Tennis Club and a couple of guest appearances from Tim and Pilar Connell. Also providing praiseworthy support were the visitors, most of whom sang along with the help of their scripts/song sheets. Click here for a pdf of those extracts.
I was particularly impressed that people sang along so well to “In Darkness Let Me Paint It Black” – see final embed below.
Janie got busy with the video app on her phone during the performances, so several highlights and lowlights were recorded. Below only the highlights as YouTube embeds.
I would recommend, if you were to choose only one highlight, Reuben Ard’s performance of William Byrd’s Earl of Salisbury Pavan, which was really quite magical performed in that wonderful setting on “electric virginals”:
Word is, most if not all of the visitors thoroughly enjoyed their afternoon at Royal Tennis Court, Hampton Court. Thanks again to our hosts, who made us feel so welcome and steered the event to sweet success.
Around the time that Thomas Gresham was born, c1519, Henry VIII was still a relatively young monarch, about 27 years old, although he had already been king for some 10 years.
Indeed, around the time of Thomas Gresham’s birth, a wonderful manuscript of polyphony was produced, known colloquially as the Henry VIII Manuscript. In British Library circles it is known as MS 31922. If you think “circa 1519” is a bit vague for the birth of Thomas Gresham, dig “circa 1510-1520” for the Henry VIII manuscript. Probably c1518.
The manuscript contains 109 pieces, including 20 songs and 13 instrumentals attributed to Henry VIII. If you have a DIAMM (Digital Image Archive of Medieval Music) registration you can peruse the whole book on-line here.
Question for the audience: would anyone care to name one or more of Henry VIII’s compositions?
No, not Greensleeves. But we shall come back to Greensleeves.
We have no reason to doubt the attribution of the Manuscript’s 33 pieces to Henry VIII. Some of those pieces are adaptations of existing works and others were doubtlessly written in collaboration with tutors, although Henry alone gets the credit.
Probably the best known of Henry VIII’s compositions is Pastime With Good Company. Let’s give that one a go.
Pastime with good company I love and shall until I die; Grudge who lust, but none deny, So God be pleased, thus live will I. For my pastance, Hunt, sing, and dance. My heart is set: All goodly sport For my comfort, Who shall me let?
Youth must have some dalliance, Of good or illé, some pastance; Company methinks then best All thoughts and fancies to dejest: For idleness Is chief mistress Of vices all. Then who can say But mirth and play Is best of all?
Company with honesty Is virtue vices to flee: Company is good and ill But every man hath his free will. The best ensue, The worst eschew, My mind shall be: Virtue to use, Vice to refuse, Shall I use me.
Oxford Camerata under Jeremy Summerly (a visiting Gresham professor of music) have recorded Pastime With Good Company – you can hear that recording by clicking here or below:
Henry VIII’s composing days, to the extent that we have a written record of them, seem to have petered out by 1520 and his mortal coil was shed in 1547. Which brings us to the inconvenient truth – it is utterly implausible that Henry VIII composed the song, or even heard the tune of Greensleeves.
Greensleeves
Greensleeves was first registered at The London Stationer’s Company on 3 September 1580 by Richard Jones: “A Newe Northen Dittye of ye Ladye Greene Sleves”. It was the first but not the only ballad with Greensleeves in the title to be registered that month. Actually, in broadside ballad registration terms, a veritable epidemic of this new term, Greensleeves, broke out in early September 1580 and continued quite relentlessly for several years.
We cannot be sure whether any of the surviving lyrics were part of that initial 1580 bout of registration, but there is a very early surviving version of the song from 1584 in an anthology, A Handful of Pleasant Delights. In that book the song is entitled:
A New Courtly Sonnet of the Lady Green Sleeves. To the new tune of Green Sleeves.
While it is entirely possible that tunes akin to the tune we now know as Greensleeves and lyrics akin to the 1580s lyrics might have been around for a while ahead of publication, it is unlikely that anything we might recognise as Greensleeves was around much before 1580.
While mid 16th century musical development will have come too late for Henry VIII, it is likely that Sir Thomas Gresham will have heard music in that style, during his several long stays in the low countries between 1543 and 1567. In particular, in the 1560s, when Gresham was Ambassador Plenipotentiary to Duchess Margaret of Parma, Antwerp and Brussels were melting pots of European culture. Burgon, in his Life and Times of Thomas Gresham, translates from a contemporary account of Antwerp by Lodovico Guicciardini, Description dc Tout le Pais Bas, &c. 1568:
It was not uncommon…to meet with a lady who could converse in five, six, or even seven different languages…
…on every side, and at all hours, were to be seen signs of festivity and merriment ; there was a constant succession of gay assemblies, nuptials, and dances ; while music, singing, and cheerful sounds prevailed in every street.
Sounds like my kind of town.
Whether it was this steeping in European music culture that inspired Thomas Gresham to endow music professorship, we’ll never know. Burgon thought it explained the choice of music for a professorship, whereas John Guy, in the most recent biography of Thomas Gresham, suggests that music (as a subset of astronomy) was part of the standard curriculum at Oxford and Cambridge in the late Tudor period and therefore not especially noteworthy.
We’ll also never know whether Thomas Gresham, who died in 1579, ever heard Greensleeves. It is, in my view, extremely unlikely that he heard either the specific tune or one of the lyrics that we now think of as Greensleeves, but it is highly likely that Thomas Gresham would have heard some progressive music of that kind, whether he liked it or not.
But what of the lyrics? I realised, when preparing this event, that I had never really listened to or thought about the words of Greensleeves. Of course I knew that the song was about a man who has courted a lady and not got anywhere, but I hadn’t REALLY thought about the words. I’m guessing that most of you have given this matter similarly little thought.
Your song sheets have got the first two and the last three verses of the 1584 version of the song. I have omitted the twelve middle verses, which I’ll explain when we get there.
Feel free to join in the chorus.
VERSE ONE
Alas, my love, ye do me wrong, To cast me off discourteously;
And I have loved you so long, Delighting in your company.
CHORUS
Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves was my heart of gold, and who but Lady Greensleeves?
VERSE TWO
I have been ready at your hand, To grant whatever you would crave, I have both waged life and land, your love and goodwill for to have.
CHORUS
Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves was my heart of gold, and who but Lady Greensleeves?
The next twelve verses describe in great detail the gifts that the unsuccessful suitor has heaped upon the lady in question. To paraphrase:
“kerchers to thy head”,
“board and bed”,
“petticoats of the best”,
“jewels to thy chest”,
“a smock of silk”,
“a girdle of gold”,
“pearls”,
“a purse”,
“gilt knives”,
“a pin case”,
“crimson stockings of silk”,
“pumps as white as was the milk”,
“a gown of the grassy green”,
“sleeves of satin” for “our harvest queen”,
“garters decorated with gold and silver”,
“a gelding”,
“servant men clothed in green”,
“dainties to eat”…
…”and a cuddly toy…didn’t she do well?
I described these inventory list verses to my young singing teacher, Lydia White, who said:
The word Ick had not featured in my vocabulary until that moment, but I hardly needed to look up the definition to know what it means.
The singer/suitor, it seems to me, is utterly unsuited to the business of courtship. he knows how to let the lady and the listeners know how wealthy he is and how badly he feels he has been treated, without any self-awareness or understanding of what love is. He is pathetic and pitiful. Let’s sing the last three verses, which includes some language that sounds strangely modern, but I have not tinkered with the words – just a little with the spelling:
Let’s sing the rest of the song now.
VERSE FIFTEEN
Thou couldst desire no earthly thing, But still thou hadst it readily; Thy music still to play and sing, And yet thou wouldst not love me.
CHORUS
Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves was my heart of gold, and who but Lady Greensleeves?
VERSE SIXTEEN
And who did pay for all this gear, That thou didst spend when pleased thee?
Even I that am rejected here, And thou distainst to love me.
CHORUS
Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves was my heart of gold, and who but Lady Greensleeves?
VERSE SEVENTEEN
Well, I will pray to God on high, That thou my constancy must see, And yet that once before I die, Thou wilt vouchsafe to love me.
OUTRO
Greensleeves now farewell, adieu,
God I pray to prosper thee;
For I am still thy lover true,
Come once again and love me.
The Famous Victories Of Henry V
The difficulties we have attributing authorship of Tudor works is not confined to songs. It also applies to many plays. As does the desire to leap to the conclusion that someone famous must have written any interesting piece.
There is a famous scene in Shakespeare’s Henry V in which the Dauphin has sent a sarcastic gift of tennis balls to the new monarch, which snowballs the plot, via regal anger, to the Battle of Agincourt and English victory.
An anonymous earlier play, “The Famous Victories of Henry V”, includes that exact plot line – indeed many of the plot lines that unfold in Shakespeare’s second Henriad – Henry IV Parts One and Two plus Henry V.
The Famous Victories was probably written c1583. It must have been written by/before 1588, as there are accounts of William Knell and Richard Tarlton appearing for Queen Elizabeth’s Men in this play; both of those actors died in 1588. The play was first entered in the Stationers’ register in 1594, while the earliest surviving version was published in 1598. Here is a link to a full transcript of the play.
In “The Famous Victories”, the ton of tennis balls story arises in a long, pivotal ninth scene, set at Westminster Abbey, just after the coronation of Henry V. King Henry rejects his old friends, including Sir John “Jockey” Oldcastle – the Falstaff character – then turns his attention to seeking the Archbishop of Canterbury and others’ counsel on seizing the French crown. Henry’s counsellors sound hawkish, before introducing the Archbishop of Bourges who has brought with him an offer of money, the hand of Princess Katherine (which Henry desired) and a gift from the Dauphin:
ARCHBISHOP: And it please your Maiestie, My Lord Prince Dolphin greets you well, With this present.
[He deliuereth a Tunne of Tennis Balles.]
HENRY 5: What a guilded Tunne? … I pray you my Lord of Yorke, looke what is in it?
YORKE: And it please your Grace, Here is a Carpet and a Tunne of Tennis balles.
HENRY 5: A Tunne of Tennis balles? I pray you good my Lord Archbishop, What might the meaning therof be?
ARCHBISHOP: And it please you my Lord, A messenger you know, ought to keepe close his message, And specially an Embassador.
HENRY 5: But I know that you may declare your message … To a king: the law of Armes allowes no lesse.
ARCHBISHOP: My Lord hearing of your wildnesse before your Fathers death, sent you this my good Lord, Meaning that you are more fitter for a Tennis Court Then a field, and more fitter for a Carpet then the Camp.
HENRY 5: My lord prince Dolphin is very pleasant with me: But tel him, that in steed of balles of leather, We wil tosse him balles of brasse and yron, Yea such balles as neuer were tost in France, The proudest Tennis Court shall rue it, … I, and thou Prince of Burges shall rue it.
This earlier play returns to the tennis ball motif several times later in the play. But in truth the dialogue is unexceptional. Shakespeare tackles the tennis ball story in Act One Scene 2 of Henry V, deploying his exceptionally rich command of language:
FIRST AMBASSADOR Thus, then, in few. Your highness, lately sending into France, Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third. In answer of which claim, the prince our master Says that you savour too much of your youth, And bids you be advised there’s nought in France That can be with a nimble galliard won; You cannot revel into dukedoms there. He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit, This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this, Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks.
KING HENRY V: What treasure, uncle?
EXETER: Tennis-balls, my liege.
KING HENRY V: We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us; His present and your pains we thank you for: When we have march’d our rackets to these balls, We will, in France, by God’s grace, play a set Shall strike his father’s crown into the hazard. Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler That all the courts of France will be disturb’d With chaces. And we understand him well, How he comes o’er us with our wilder days, Not measuring what use we made of them. We never valued this poor seat of England; And therefore, living hence, did give ourself To barbarous licence; as ’tis ever common That men are merriest when they are from home. But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state, Be like a king and show my sail of greatness When I do rouse me in my throne of France: For that I have laid by my majesty And plodded like a man for working-days, But I will rise there with so full a glory That I will dazzle all the eyes of France, Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us. And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his Hath turn’d his balls to gun-stones; and his soul Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance That shall fly with them…
Scary.
In the Famous Victories play, at the end of Scene 12, King Henry reprises his verbal volleys about the tennis balls [did you see what I did there?], ahead of a rather corny Scene 13 in which French soldiers talk incomprehensibly in mock French.
In Shakespeare’s Henry V Act 4, Scene 4, Pistol encounters a surrendering French soldier:
PISTOL Yield, cur.
FRENCH SOLDIER Je pense que vous êtes le gentilhomme de bonne qualité.
PISTOL Qualtitie calmie custure me. Art thou a gentleman? What is thy name? Discuss.
FRENCH SOLDIER Ô Seigneur Dieu!
PISTOL O, Seigneur Dew should be a gentleman. Perpend my words, O Seigneur Dew, and mark: O Seigneur Dew, thou diest on point of fox, except, O Seigneur, thou do give to me egregious ransom.
FRENCH SOLDIER Ô, prenez miséricorde! Ayez pitié de moi!
PISTOL Moy shall not serve…
I’m glad to report, following several further rounds of corny misunderstanding, that Pistol spares the poor French soldier for the modest fee of 200 gold coins.
Caleno Custure Me was first registered at Stationer’s Register in 1582 but the earliest surviving version, like Greensleeves, is in A Handful of Pleasant Delights. It’s quite a lengthy song if you sing all the verses – this abbreviated version works well. Feel free to join in the Caleno Custere Me lines once you get the hang of this simple but charming tune.
VERSE ONE
When as I view your comely grace, Caleno Custure Me;
Your golden hair, your angel’s face, Caleno Custure Me.
VERSE TWO
With in myself then I can say, Caleno Custure Me;
The night is gone, behold the day, Caleno Custure Me.
VERSE THREE
Then how dare I with boldened face, Caleno Custure Me;
Presume to crave or wish your grace? Caleno Custure Me.
VERSE FOUR
And thus amazed as I stand, Caleno Custure Me;
Not feeling sense, nor moving hand. Caleno Custure Me.
VERSE FIVE
My soul with silence moving sense, Caleno Custure Me;
Doth wish for thee with reverence. Caleno Custure Me.
VERSE SIX
Long life, and virtue you possess:, Caleno Custure Me;
To match those gifts of worthiness. Caleno Custure Me.
REPRISE
When as I view your comely grace, Caleno Custure Me;
Your golden hair, your angel’s face, Caleno Custure Me.
Theatrical Performance At Hampton Court Palace
Before we move on to the only Shakespeare play that has a discernible Gresham connection, mentions tennis and has a music element for us to enjoy, I’d like to explore the notion that Hampton Court Palace hosted theatrical performances in Elizabethan times.
I knew that troupes of players had put on Court performances in Elizabethan times and suspected that the idea of such performances in the Great Hall at Hampton Court Palace would not have been brand new in Christmas 1603.
Could I find evidence of theatrical performance at Hampton Court Palace in Elizabethan times?
My cursory searches drew a blank. I decided to consult Chat GPT on the matter. I won’t bother you with the largely nonsensical answers that the automaton tried out on me. But it did suggest that I seek advice on sources from experts in the history of Hampton Court Palace and suggested one sources itself: Philip Henslowe‘s diary.
Possibly I should have thought of that source myself. Philip Henslowe was father-in-law to actor-manager Edward Alleyn and I am an alum of Alleyn’s School. But I thought of that diary as a Jacobean artefact and I hadn’t twigged that Henslowe started keeping his records in 1591.
Thirty quid was a splendid haul for a three night gig in those days. Three pounds in takings for a night at The Rose Theatre was close to a top.
As for additional research materials, I must thank Lesley Ronaldson, Sarah Slater and Sandy Rhodes at Hampton Court Palace for their help in digging out sources and information for me. Several of the sources listed in the appendix below are thanks to them.
The early 1590s was a confused and confusing time for the theatrical companies. The Earl of Leicester’s Men had been disbanded soon after Leicester’s death in late 1588. Bubonic plague caused considerable disruption in 1592 and even more so in 1593. Companies were merging and cross-fertilising with each other just to survive. In late 1592 Lord Strange’s Men and The Admiral’s Men were united under Henslowe’s management.
We don’t know which plays Lord Strange’s men put on at Hampton Court Palace that Christmas of 1592/3, but we do know from Philip Henslowe’s diaries that their repertoire over that disrupted period mostly comprised:
Tamburlaine The Great & The Jew Of Malta by Christopher Marlowe;
Henry VI (part of parts unspecified) by William Shakespeare.
The 1592 revels at Hampton Court Palace almost certainly will have starred Richard Burbage and William Kempe, who both joined Lord Strange’s Men in 1592 plus Edward Alleyn, who married Henslowe’s daughter that year. It is even possible that William Shakespeare performed in that season, but his role with Henslowe’s companies at that time is undocumented and unclear.
Thomas Gresham, Tennis, Hamlet & Walsingham
Neither do we know which plays were put on at Hampton Court Palace by Shakespeare’s lot for the new King James Christmas 1603. But there is a strong suspicion that Hamlet would have been one of them. It was new at the time and might well have seemed pertinent to the newly-succeeded King and his Danish Queen.
…might recall that the only reference to tennis in any biography of Sir Thomas Gresham refers to 1561 correspondence from Sir William Cecil, whose son, Thomas, took sanctuary at Thomas Gresham’s place in Antwerp having got himself into a spot of bother in Paris.
“I see, in the end,” said the disapproving father in a letter to the errant youth’s tutor, Windebank on 4 November 1561, “my sone shall come home lyke a spendyng sott, mete to kepe a tenniss court.”
Cecil was not referring to a grand court like that at Hampton Court Palace, of course, nor even to the more modest (yet still quite grand) court in his own home on The Strand. He was referring to the lowly tavern and gambling den sort of tennis court, for which trades folk sought (but were often denied) licences.
What is widely believed and is almost certainly true is that the character of Polonius in Hamlet was based on William Cecil and the character of Laertes, Polonius’s ne’er-do-well son abroad, based on the young Thomas Cecil. Scholars have suggested the Cecil connection for a great many reasons. For our purposes, Act Two Scene One of Hamlet has the sole mention of tennis in Hamlet, in a context that is reminiscent of the sole mention of tennis in Thomas Gresham’s biographies.
There are other clues to Polonius being based William Cecil. In Act One Scene Three, Polonius sets out “a few precepts” for Laertes ahead of his travels – for all the good they did in the matter of encouraging Laertes to behave himself. William Cecil wrote a treatise of precepts “to his son”, which was published subsequent to Hamlet but its existence would almost certainly have been known to the same insiders whose gossip about the Cecil family was in Shakespeare’s orbit.
While William Cecil’s daughter, Anne, did not have an entirely Ophelia-like story, she did have a tempestuous marriage/relationship with Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford and she did die tragically young.
Ophelia sings several songs in Act 4 Scene 5, known as “Ophelia’s mad scene”. The first of those songs, “How Should I Your True Love Know” is based on an Elizabethan ballad tune, Walsingham. The tune is by our old friend, Anon, the origins of the tune and various lyrics steeped in mystery.
Here is a relatively simple lute version of that tune:
The root lyric is believed to be this couplet:
As I went to Walsingham, to the shrine with speed Met I with a jolly palmer, in a pilgrim’s weed
The Walsingham lyric, from there, in its various versions, takes the form of dialogue between pilgrims, one seeking their missing loved one and the other responding.
HOW SHOULD I YOUR TRUE LOVE KNOW?
Let’s have a go at the song, using the Ophelia lyrics from Hamlet, but rather than having Ophelia in her derangement sing both parts, we’ll try the question and response as a duet:
OPHELIA: ‘As you came from the holy land of Walsingham
Met you not with my true love by the way you came?’
PALMER: ‘How should I your true love know from another one?’
OPHELIA: ‘By his cockle hat and staff and his sandal shoon’
PALMER: ‘He is dead and gone, lady, he is dead and gone At his head a grass green turf, at his heels a stone
‘White his shroud as the mountain snow, larded with sweet flow’rs Which bewept to the grave did go with true love showers’
I must say, if that’s what a jolly palmer sounds like, I’m glad I have never met with a miserable palmer.
Because Walsingham was a popular pilgrimage site until the monasteries were disestablished in the 1530s, some music historians assumed the song to be early Tudor. But there is no evidence of the tune until the late Tudor period, at which time many major composers had a go at producing versions and variations on the tune.
William Byrd produced a piece for virginals (keyboard), 22 Variations entitled “Have with Yow to Walsingame”.
Not to be outdone, John Bull (who was the first Gresham Professor of Music), produced 30 Variations on Walsingham.
John Dowland had a modest go at a version of the tune for the lute…
The on-line transcription of my blog has links to good recordings of those several instrumental versions.
Rather than inundate you with variations and versions of Walsingham, we’d like to close with three pieces, one example by each of those three composers, all three relevant to today’s event.
William Byrd – Earl Of Salisbury Pavan
While William Cecil, Thomas Cecil and Anne Cecil all found their way into a tennis-related subplot of Hamlet, one famous member of the Cecil family, Robert Cecil, was omitted. Robert Cecil was a powerful man even before his father’s death in 1598, at which point he took over from his late father as Lord Privy Seal. His power and status increased under James 1st, ennobled in James’s accession year and made Earl of Salisbury in 1605.
The story goes that Salisbury protected William Byrd when threatened with eviction from his home at Stondon Massey.
William Byrd’s final resting place at St Peter & St Paul Church, Stondon Massey
Whether that story is true and whether it was for that reason that Byrd dedicated this pavan to the Earl of Salisbury we’ll never know, but the piece is very charming and beautiful nonetheless, on pretty much any instrument. As one further tennis connection, by the way, one of the Earl of Salisbury’s grand homes, Hatfield House, today houses a rather splendid real tennis court.
William Byrd’s domestic difficulties were probably connected with his recusant Catholicism, or at least his patronage by people, such as the Petre family in neighbouring Ingatestone, who were notable recusants.
John Bull – Dr Bull’s My Selfe
John Bull, the first Gresham professor of music, claimed similar persecution for his beliefs, when he fled England, for Flanders, in 1613, although it seems far more likely that his misdemeanours were carnal rather than theological. Sadly much of Bull’s music was lost or fliched by other composers when he fled, although we do still have his wonderful Walsingham variations, some extraordinary canons, the suggestion that he might well have written the national anthem, plus a splendid little piece known as Dr Bull’s My Selfe, a piece dedicated to his favourite person – a very early example of a selfie – in this case a musical one.
John Bull had a naughty boy track record from the outset as Gresham Professor of Music. He was indicted for criminal damage at Gresham House soon after taking up his Gresham College chair in 1597. We do not know the outcome to that case.
We do know that he was required to give up his chair in 1607, most likely on the grounds that he had to get married in a hurry, just a couple of weeks before his eventual bride gave birth.
His flight to Flanders six years after that appears to be a result of incurring the wrath of George Abbot, Archbishop of Canterbury, this time with Bull having been accused of adulty. Abbot had recently said of Bull:
“the man hath more music than honesty and is as famous for marring of virginity as he is for fingering of organs and virginals.”
Let us put to one side the Archbishop’s unfortunate choice of words to modern ears. It does seem that John Bull found it hard to “keep himselfie to himselfie”.
I am probably over-using my imagination when I listen to Dr Bull’s My Selfe, but I envisage Bull using this short piece as his theme tune at the start of each of his Gresham Lectures. It has a theme tune ring to it.
John Dowland – Now Oh Now I Needs Must Part (The Frog Galliard)
Legend has it that John Dowland was mightily miffed when his application to be lutenist to the court of Queen Elizabeth was turned down in 1594. So he might well have been similarly miffed when John Bull was selected to be the first Gresham professor of music ahead of Dowland in 1597. The following year Dowland took up a highly-paid post at the Court of Christian IV of Denmark, who subsequently also took on John Bull in the latter’s flee to Europe years.
Dowland is said to have believed that it was his recusant religious beliefs that stood in his way with Queen Elizabeth, but that particular matter did not seem to hold back several other performing arts types.
More likely it was because the Queen liked upbeat performance pieces and upbeat performers. Dowland was reputedly downbeat in character and is best known for his melancholy songs, with titles such as “Flow my tears”, “I saw my Lady weepe” and “In darkness let me dwell”.
Dowland’s first book of songs came out in the Gresham College inaugural year, 1597. Now Oh Now I Needs Must Part, from that book, is a personal favourite of mine.
The instrumental version is known as The Frog Galliard for reasons rumoured to be connected with one of Queen Elizabeth’s suitors, François, Duke of Anjou and Alençon, whom she referred to as “her Frog”.
Coincidentally, François, Duke of Anjou, the youngest son of Henry II of France, was named after his late uncle François, Duke of Brittany, a Dauphin who died in mysterious circumstances in 1536 following refreshments after a rigorous game of tennis “pré[s] d’Ainay“. This is yet one more example of a great French tradition of regal deaths in the aftermath of tennis, going back as far as the untimely demise of Louis X “The Quarrelsome” in 1316, as reported in several of my earlier pieces on tennis e.g. Horrible Histories.
Also coincidentally, the courtly intrigue surrounding the potential match between Queen Elisabeth and François “The Frog”, which played out for some five years between 1574 and 1579, seems to have kicked off in the immediate aftermath of one of The Queen’s visits to Thomas Gresham at Osterley, in February 1574:
Feb 18,Thur OSTERLEY, Middlesex; Sir Thomas Gresham.
Court news. Feb 20, La Mothe [French ambassador Bertrand de Salignac de la Mothe-Fénelon] to Catherine de Medici [François, Duke of Anjou’s mum]: “Francis Walsingham told me he had never seen the Queen so well disposed to marriage as at present, and he thought everything could be accomplished by a private interview. He said the Duke should regard the Queen’s heart as a strong castle which he might boldly carry by storm. He would lend any assistance in his power.”
Feb 20,Sat HAMPTON COURT. On February 20 two Revels Officers hired ‘two geldings to Osterley and to Hampton Court to know my Lord Chamberlain’s pleasure, and back again to St John’s’. St John’s Clerkenwell, the Revels Office.
It seems that Thomas Gresham was not averse to a bit of theatre. In the above instance, presumably lending or giving some props to the revels. On at least one occasion it is documented that Gresham hosted theatrical entertainments at Osterley.
On one occasion [at Osterley]]there was a play by Thomas Churchyard, who wrote entertainments in the 1570s for several of the Queen’s progresses, as at Bristol and Norwich. In Churchyard’s Challenge (1593) he lists his printed works, but without dates. One item is: ‘The devices of war and a play at Osterley, her Highness being at Sir Thomas Gresham’s’. The play is not extant.
Returning to Now Oh Now I Needs Must Part/The Frog Galliard, while the song and tune has no known connection with Shakespeare, when I appeared in and helped produce Twelfth Night at Alleyn’s School 45 years ago, our Deputy Headmaster/Director, John “Squeaky” Newton, insisted on us using this song/tune as a theme for the production. This piece has long had a place in my heart and makes a suitable closing number.
VERSE ONE
Now, O now, I needs must part, Parting though I absent mourn. Absence can no joy impart Joy once fled cannot return. While I live I needs must love, Love lives not when Hope is gone. Now at last Despair doth prove, Love divided loveth none.
Sad despair doth drive me hence, This despair unkindness sends. If that parting be offence, It is she which then offends.
VERSE TWO
Dear, when I am from thee gone, Gone are all my joys at once. I loved thee and thee alone, In whose love I joyed once. And although your sight I leave, Sight wherein my joys do lie, Till that death do sense bereave, Never shall affection die.
Sad despair doth drive me hence, This despair unkindness sends. If that parting be offence, It is she which then offends.
VERSE THREE
Dear if I do not return Love and I shall die together, For my absence never mourn, Whom you might have joyed ever. Part we must, though now I die. Die I do to part with you. Him despair doth cause to lie, Who both lived and died true.
Sad despair doth drive me hence, This despair unkindness sends. If that parting be offence, It is she which then offends.
Encore? – In Darkness Let Me Dwell:
To cheer everyone up, an even darker Dowland number, but in a rock and roll stylee. In Darkness Let Me Dwell…or perhaps more accurately, In Darkness Let Me Paint It Black:
VERSE ONE
In darkness let me dwell, the ground shall sorrow be,
The roof despair to bar all cheerful light from me,
The walls of marble black that moistened still shall weep,
My music hellish jarring sounds to banish friendly sleep:
VERSE TWO
Thus wedded to my woes, and bedded in my tomb
O let me living die till death doth come, till death doth come.
My dainties grief shall be, and tears my poisoned wine,
My sighs the air through which my panting heart shall pine,
VERSE THREE
My robes my mind shall suit exceeding blackest night,
My study shall be tragic thoughts sad fancy to delight,
Pale ghosts and frightful shades shall my acquaintance be:
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
Strozzi and Caccini provided the songs – I suppose I should call them madrigals from that era. They were all operatic in style, which suits Roberta Invernizzi’s theatrical delivery and powerful soprano voice.
Invernizzi was ably supported by period instrumentalists, all extremely capable on their instruments. Two theorboes and a harp seems almost an embarrassment of plucked-string-riches, but the sound was lovely so we wallowed in the excess.
In truth, to our taste, the trio sonatas and passacaille of Leonarda and Jacquet De La Guerre respectively were more to our taste than the madrigals, but we enjoyed the whole concert.
Here is an example of a Leonarda sonata – coincidentally from an album primarily containing Roberta Invernizzi but not on this instrumental piece:
Below, from a separate recording, is Roberta Invernizzi singing Strozzi’s Sino Alla Morte, one of the madrigals we heard:
Almost everything that I want to say in words about this event is contained in the “match report” on King Cricket – click here or below, where, in case you didn’t know, dear reader, I am Ged and Janie is Daisy:
If anything were ever to go awry with the King Cricket site, click this link for a scrape of that report.
Janie took a ludicrous number of pictures – you can see them all through the Flickr link below:
Janie and I were very motivated by the live appearance of Rudimental and mugged up on their hits in advance of the concert…I mean Finals Day.
I expected that we might see live performances of at least four Rudimental bangers and we were treated to all four of the ones I expected we’d see:
I was also hoping for this next one, which I especially liked when mugging up, but they didn’t do this one. Shoulda been a bigger hit in my opinion, but my opinion didn’t guarantee hits even when I was younger, let alone now!
Betwixt some noisy and frenetic visits to Lord’s for “The Hundred”, a quiet day of relaxed, county cricket at Radlett, as Middlesex were playing Yorkshire in the one day cup (50 overs tournament).
Long in the planning, this one. Yorkshire Simon had been waiting a long time for any Yorkshire cricket to visit Middlesex, so as soon as this fixture was announced Simon wondered if we might be able to keep this date free.
Attempts to watch out-ground cricket with Fran and Simon have often ended up soggy affairs. The lowest (or at least wettest) ebb being at Uxbridge six years ago – click here or below:
Ironically, given how very wet late July and August turned out to be in 2023, this particular day at Radlett was glorious sunshine made pleasant by kind smatterings of high cloud.
To some extent it felt like “a gathering of the clan”, as well as a gathering with Fran, as Janie and I ran into so many of the Middlesex supporting stalwarts, some of whom we hadn’t seen for ages.
In truth the cricket match was somewhat of a donkey derby – the last match for the qualifying group with both Middlesex and Yorkshire long since out of contention. But as it happens Middlesex dominated the match and for once chased down a decent-looking total without fuss.
Yorkshire Simon feigns uninterest while Ged observes rare Middlesex dominanceAfter chatting for a while after stumps, we wended our way home while the squad and stalwarts decompressed at the end of an unsuccessful campaign but a successful day.
