Preparing for my singing lesson tomorrow, I was struck by this lovely song, Waterloo Sunset. The meaning of the lyrics can seem very different from its original meaning in this strange time of lockdown.
They are evocative lyrics at any time. I have loved this song since I first came across it as a teenager.
It also occurred to me that this song mentions two of my ThreadMash friends, Terry and Julie.
Last week at ThreadMash, in addition to some business with satsumas, Rohan encouraged us all to sing Geraldine by Ian Dury and the Blockheads to one of our number, Geraldine, with predictably hilarious results given the latency on Zoom and Rohan’s technical “mastery”, or lack thereof, viz sound engineering.
Anyway, I’ve found a song that mentions two Theadmash people. That has to be a good thing. Waterloo Sunset. I hope I do it justice. Here it is again:
Today was my second lesson with Lydia and I must say that I feel that I am making progress very rapidly. Not that I’ll ever be a great singer, but there are some basics of technique that are enabling me to get a lot more out of my voice for less effort. Most importantly, I am really enjoying the process of learning and practicing.
Janie says she can hear a great deal of improvement, which is remarkable in such a short period of time…and given that Janie wears anti-noise earmuffs whenever I sing. OK I made up the bit about earmuffs.
At the end of the week, I thought I’d try out my new-found range & sum up the strange life we are currently leading with this beautiful John Prine song, Hello In There, which I have been unable to get out of my head since I learnt that Prine was ill, about a week before he died of Covid-19 in early April.
This charming, beautiful song is so much for our times. I can only try to do it justice. With some more lessons with Lydia, I’m sure I can only get better at it.
I’d long wanted to see Concentus Musicus Wien. I also see so little Telemann listed these days and am a sucker for his stuff. So this concert caught my eye.
Janie really didn’t fancy this one on a Thursday evening, so I booked just the one ticket for myself.
Earlier in the evening, I went to LSE to help the LSE100 team celebrate their 10th birthday. I made a small contribution to the course in 2018, which, it seems, qualified me to join the party. I stuck to water at the LSE and indeed stayed dry at The Wigmore Hall too.
Word reached me that Dominic (my real tennis doubles partner) and his wife Pamela would be there that evening. Double-coincidence, because I learnt that i would be partnering Domnic again in a one-off game the next day.
Anyway, the music.
First up was some Biber. Are Heinrich Biber fans known as Belibers? They should be.
I can’t find a decent Concentus Biber on line, but the following performance of Battalia will give you a decent idea:
Next up was the Telemann, which I thought super special, not least the oboe and trumpet parts. Telemann fans are known as Telemaniacs in some circles, that i know for sure.
Again, you’ll need to make do with a different orchestra but this recording will give you a reasonable feel for it:
Then the interval, during which time Dominic, Pamela, a few of their other friends and I had a natter.
Then on to Vivaldi. Autumn. Nicely done.
Below is Julia Fischer playing it. Different style to Erich Höbarth, who led on the evening, but just differently lovely.
Finally, a bit more of a rarity, Purcell’s complete King Arthur Suite. Very good, it was. I only recognised odd snippets of it; for sure I hadn’t heard it in its entirety before.
To complete an evening of coincidences, I ran into my friend John from the health club as I was leaving the concert hall, so we travelled home together.
John is not so familiar with early music and original instruments – he said he found it hard at first to adjust his ear to the period instruments. It made me realise how much i have become accustomed to them – I don’t even think about the sound being “different” any more; it’s pretty much the way I expect to hear music of that period.
A shame the Wiggy wasn’t full – perhaps only 2/3rds or 3/4s full.
Our first outing of the decade was a visit to Mike and Marianna Smith’s house; an opportunity to eat together, make some music together and to see their kids, Eva and Bob, now that they are teenagers.
For those Ogblog readers who don’t know…
…and who are looking for somebody to blame for my music-making…
…it was Mike Smith who got me into the idea of playing the four-string guitar.
Mike makes & refurbishes stringed instruments of many varieties – the picture below depicts Mike playing a mandola, with a cello-like thing made from a half-baked mandolin by his side:
The pictures imply that Mariana did all the cooking and that Mike and I did all the playing, but that would be unfair on Mike (who prepared much of the delicious Mexican meal we enjoyed) and indeed on Eva, who is cultivating pie making skills, as illustrated above.
Bob & Eva chilling in gadget corner
We also spent plenty of time chatting too, about the kids school activities, Mike’s latest initiatives and learning some more about Mariana’s Slovak family and background.
One strange coincidence vis-a-vis the music and Mariana. Amongst other things, I was tinkling the renaissance song Belle Qui Tiens Ma Vie, which I am currently working on with Ian Pittaway, my early music teacher.
Ian has added an annex to that essay about the Czechoslovakian folk group, Spirituál kvintet, who wrote and recorded a “Czechoslovakian protest” version of this song in the 1960s:
On discovering the coincidental link between the song and Mariana’s origins, I sent the link to Mike and Mariana. In typically subdued language, Mariana resonded:
I was slightly blown away by Spirituál Kvintet’s Pavana…
12 January 2020: Marcena & the Neighbours
As if we didn’t eat and drink enough with friends and neighbours in December, Marcena very kindly invited us in for drinks and nibbles on the second Sunday of the decade.
Coincidentally, Marcena’s centrepiece was also Mexican, a very tasty tacos dish, although there were also potatoes and chicken cutlets which bore the hallmarks of her southern Asian and southern African backgrounds.
Ged, Daisy, Marcena & IsabelMarcena, Isabel, Joy & Piers
It was a very enjoyable evening. Janie (Daisy) tried to construct an alternative narrative for everyone else’s life…
…in fact at one point I wondered whether the full moon a couple of evenings earlier had got to her…
Any howl you might hear is likely me pretending to be a dog, in a vain attempt to scare a cat away from tormenting our visiting birds
…but in the end the truth would out and we all found out a bit more about each other, over some very tasty food and wine.
Chilled times.
Indeed, to add to the chilledness of the past two-three weeks, I also enjoyed:
a couple of music lessons with Ian Pittaway,
a jamming evening with DJ on 14 January at my place, with some yummy grub from Speck,
several games of real tennis at Lord’s, including club night on 16 January.
Ensemble Marsyas, who specialise in baroque music with Irish and Scottish connections, have taken up a short residency at The Wigmore Hall. This is the first of their concerts, which has a Scottish – hence Hogmanay – connection.
Only one of the works performed was by an actual Scot; a rather fascinating sounding chap named Thomas Erskine, 6th Earl Of Kellie. We’ll have to call him a late baroque composer I think.
Indeed, some in the Early Music community might fret at great length if I were to describe the rather charming Erskine Overture (or short symphony) as early music, as it was composed as recently as 1761.
But I contest that it is, by definition, “Early” music by virtue of being music composed by an Earl. Or should I describe it as Earlish music?
Be that as it may, the rest of the concert was music by Arne, Handel and Barsanti.
Francesco Barsanti might be described as an honorary Scot, a gentleman of Italian origin who spent several years in Edinburgh (where he composed much of his oeuvre) and who married a Scottish woman, before returning to London. We heard several of Barsanti’s adaptations of Scottish folk tunes as well as a couple of his concerti grossi.
There’s very little Ensemble Marsyas music on the web, but the following short snippets are charming. I especially commend the seventh, Handel’s How Beautiful Are The Feet from The Messiah, as very suitable for the season…
… and also for Janie’s chosen profession; podiatry (with a fair swathe of her clientele being at least as interested in the appearance as in the health of their feet).
But I digress.
Sadly, the expected mezzo-soprano Katie Bray was ill with meningitis, which is really serious but we were told on the night that she is recovering well.
Our substitute for the evening was Helen Charlston. An aficionado sitting next to us let out a whoop of delight at the mention of her name as the sub. The aficionado informed us that Helen Charlston has recently won a Handel singing award and is an outstanding young performer. Here is a video of one of her award-winning Handel performances:
Apart from substituting in something (I think another Handel aria) for the second of the Arne songs, she sang the same repertoire as we expected from Katie Bray.
The singing was very much a highlight, as was the horn playing of Alec Frank-Gemmill and Joe Walters throughout the concert. Scott Bywater’s timpani playing during the Barsanti concerti grossi was also a special performance.
Peter Whelan led, from one of the two harpsichords, with great charm and beaming smiles. Turns out he is also an accomplished bassoonist, not that we got to see the bassoon side of Peter Whelan on the night.
Still, feast your eyes on this – an earlier incarnation of Ensemble Marsyas with a good shot of Peter Whelan and isn’t that the boy Thomas Dunford of all people on the lute there – I do declare it is:
In short, they come across as a happy ensemble, does Ensemble Marsyas, enjoying making music together and delighting the audience.
Have another lug-hole full of Helen Charlston singing competitive Handel – this time an Italian aria, in similar style to the singing we heard in the concert:
I think she probably sounds even more assured now than she did when she won that 2018 competition.
In short, Baroque Hogmanay was a super concert on which to end our year – indeed our decade – of concert-going.
This time around, 2019, the programme looked like this:
Unfortunately, my magnum opus for 2019, which marks Sir Thomas Gresham’s 500th birthday, hence The Sir Thomas Gresham 500th Anniversary Song And Dance, was accidentally misnamed as the Sir Richard Gresham themed performance I gave in 2017. But I was able to put people right on that point pretty easily.
But before all of that, Michael Mainelli made a brief appearance to leave soiréeistas in no doubt that the show was about to begin, when he blasted our lug-holes with the sound of his bagpipes.
Michael Mainelli on bagpipes? Well I’ll be blowed!
Mercifully, Part 1 of the soirée was a highly professional and entertaining set by David Jones and Sian Millett, which gave us all plenty of time to recover from the lug-hole blasting and listen to the superb talents of this pair, who are very much becoming Gresham Society soirée favourites.
David & Sian as seen in 2017
David demonstrated his vocal versality with material ranging from lieder to Lehrer. David’s rendering of Hochländisches Wiegenlied by Robert Schumann was a particular delight, not least David’s rendering of the non-Germanic word, “Carlisle” mid song, as was David’s perennial Tom Lehrer favourite The Elements Song, which David can peform better than anyone else I have ever seen attempt it.
Sian’s talents range from grand opera to musicals. Her rendition of Mon Coeur S’ouvre A Ta Voix, with David accompanying on piano rather than the more traditional orchestra backing, brought out the beauty of the melody and the words to my ears, enabling me to enjoy hearing that aria afresh. No recording of Sian and David’s performance, sadly, but those who want now to hear the aria might enjoy the 1961 Callas recording below.
Returning to Sian’s performances, her flirty rendition of I Cain’t Say No was great fun and went down very well with the audience.
Sitting in front of me was Bobbie Scully, with whom I had, in 1984, suffered an unfortunate fit of the giggles, when we accidentally attended a stilted Rodgers and Hammerstein recital, learn more by clicking here or the block below.
For the avoidance of doubt, Sian Millett’s soirée performance was absolutely nothing like the stilted recital of the mid 1980s; the audience laughter during Sian’s I Cain’t Say No was very much WITH Sian rather than AT Sian.
The tone changes for Part 2 of the soirée, which brings amateur talent and enthusiasm from within the Gresham Society to the fore. As if to lull us all into a false sense of security, the first couple of items – Robin Wilson on the recorder, followed by a recitation from Under Milk Wood by Martin Perkins – were suitably talent-filled and dignified.
Then it was my turn.
Actually, despite appearances, a fair bit of scholarship went into my piece. I discovered, quite by chance, while researching “Ding Dong Merrily On High” last year for the Z/Yen seasonal function, that Jehan Tabourot, aka Thoinot Arbeau, was a contemporary of Sir Thomas Gresham, the former being listed as either 1519 or 1520 in all sources I could find. Tabourot (under the pseudonym Arbeau) wrote, in the late 16th century, a book, Orchésographie, comprising dance tunes and dance moves he recalled from his youth.
Branle de L’Official, the tune that subsequently was used for Ding Dong Merrily On High, is one such dance from Arbeau’s Orchésographie.
The really strange coincidence about this, is that when I discovered the temporal connection between “Arbeau” and Sir Thomas Gresham, my Googling led me immediately to Ian Pittaway’s website and this superb article:
Ian is my early music teacher. We had been talking in late 2017 about me possibly using Coventry Carol for the 2019 Gresham Society bash, but the Arbeau song and dance possibilities seemed to good an idea to miss.
…and just over a year later I inflicted same on the Gresham Society – except this time I had tailored the words to suit Thomas Gresham’s 500th birthday.
It would probably be to the benefit of all mankind if the Gresham Society soirée performance of this piece were lost in the mists of time, but unfortunately Basil Bezuidenhout had an accident with his mobile phone and inadvertently video recorded the darned thing.
I must say, the singing from the assembled throng sounds rather good, which is more than can be said for my singing that evening.
For the dance, I ever so slightly simplified the dance moves from this actual facsimile of the 1589 book:
Again, Basil had a mishap with his phone and the dance is recorded for all posterity:
Not much can go wrong in a dance like that, although I notice a couple of us ended up the wrong way round with our partners at the end of the first movement. Many thanks to David Jones for accompanying us on “virginals” and to Sian Millett for her delightful rendering of my silly words while we danced.
Anthony Hodson and David Jones then briefly brought a sense of decorum back to the proceedings with a rendition of the Elgar Romance for Bassoon & Piano, but then Robin Wilson and Tim Connell led the soirée past the point of no return in the matter of decorum. Song sheets that cover some of the residual malarky can be seen by clicking this link.
No such nonsense as the above 2017 rendition of Tinniat Tintinnabulum, dear me no. This year, instead, Robin Wilson lead us in a more ballad-like latin canticle, Reno Erat Rudolphus Nasum Rubrum Habebat
After all that, the assembled Gresham Society stalwarts needed reviving with a great deal of food and wine…
…so it was just as well that there were indeed plentiful supplies of both, enabling the remainder of the evening to become a highly convivial party. There was eating, drinking, chatting, laughing and general merriment, without, by that stage, the fear of imminent music, song or dance from over-enthusiastic soiréeistas.
As ever in the company of Gresham Society folk, a thoroughly warm-hearted and enjoyable time was had by all.
I took a punt on this one – Janie doesn’t much like staying in town for anything on a Tuesday evening – but I guessed, correctly, that this would be a really good concert.
I cannot better that review, so need only to defer to it and say little more, other than the fact that Janie and I were quite blown away by this gig. That “oh my gosh this is exceptional” feeling happens rarely for us now, as we are lucky and privileged to see a great deal of wonderful stuff.
But this concert really was the bees knees, as the above review explains.
I dowloaded all three Liberetto albums at the weekend, so we can listen some more to this material and to more of Lars Danielsson’s recent work besides.
Here’s a sample video of one of the tracks from the most recent, Liberetto III, album – Lviv:
Below is another trailer, from the first Liberetto album – different pianist on the vid but the current quartet played this piece on the night:
Have I menioned how good this jazz group is and how wonderfully Lars Danielsson’s music sounds?
I’ll stop and let Lars Danielsson Group’s work speak for itself.
It was jolly decent of Simon to arrange this gig to take place just across the road from Clanricarde Gardens, I thought. Janie and I both made sure we’d be free that evening to support.
Notting Hill Arts Club has had a bit of a makeover since we last attended a gig there, which must be 10-15 years ago.
The main purpose of the gig was to launch Simon’s second album, Baby Boomer, available on Spotify – click here – or on YouTube – click the picture link below.
Simon has used a fascinating technique to overcome the problem of the “troublesome second album following a successful first album”…
…he and his (self)-publicist have deemed the first album to have been a flop. Fiendish. Cunning. Daft. The following “interview” explains:
Anyway, despite all that John Shuttleworth meets Spinal Tap buffoonery, the album Baby Boomer really is very good and I think a big leap forward from the first album, Circle Line, which I also liked, btw.
At the start of the gig, Simon performed alone. In fact, the introduction and first number have been recorded for posterity – you can view those below:
Janie rapt with attentionOne of Simon’s sisters, Ruth, shooting the video
After a couple of numbers performed solo, or should I say, “accompanied by laptop”, Simon was joined by a real human being, Nick, on drums.
Timothy, Simon’s husband, rapt with attention.
It all got a bit more complicated when Simon attempted the opening track from the album, Please Hold, with laptop, keyboards, drummer and vocals…
…but after calling back a couple of times, Simon managed to perform that rather intricate piece with aplomb. One of my favourites from the album, that one – it reminds me a little of The Teardrop Explodes at the top of their form – praise indeed coming from me.
Here’s another track from the live performance:
Finally, here is the official video for one of my favourite tracks from the album, Optimistic…
…although, as Simon said when he introduced this number at the gig, he’s a bit less optimistic now than he was when he wrote that track.
Another story.
Actually, in his quest to remain uber-topical, Simon did perform one or two brand new songs. They are, presumably, to form part of the third album and the resulting next launch gig. Janie and I hope so – we are already looking forward to that. We very much enjoyed our evening for the Baby Boomer launch.
The first Ashes Test, it was. The match started on a Thursday this year (it was a Wednesday start last year), so I put my name down for just the first two days of the test.
On the Wednesday, I went up early so that I might have a two-hour music lesson with Ian Pittaway. I normally have my lessons with him by Skype; just occasionally having a face-to-face lesson.
On Skype, Ian looks like this:
…but this time, in real life, he looked more like this…
…so much so that I thought I’d gone to the wrong door at first.
Anyway, it was a good lesson and I was also able to cement some of the tips and techniques we discussed as I had more time than I find at home, while up at Edgbaston, to practice .
On to the Eaton Hotel, where a late lunchtime snack was to prove a problematic ask, so I wandered off to the local TGIF for a starter, a coffee and some reading.
This year we have been joined by Peter and Matthew – family friends of Nigel and Viv from Australia. Really good company, well-humoured guys, they seemed to slip seamlessly into the somewhat quirky group that is The Heavy Rollers. Only Harish absented himself from the Wednesday evening feast – he was coming up to Edgbaston on the morning of the match.
I arranged to meet the lads at their hotel, the Plough and Harrow, at 9:30 with a view to walking with Peter and Matthew to the ground.
Day One: 1 August 2019
I enjoyed a delicious and efficiently-served breakfast of kippers at The Eaton, then wandered down to the Plough and Harrow to find an irritable table of Rollers and Guest-Rollers awaiting their breakfast. They had been waiting for nigh-on an hour when I arrived.
Slowly and not altogether surely, one-by-one, their breakfasts arrived. Mercifully, Peter and Matthew were among the first to be served,so we were able to skedaddle around five-to ten, arriving at the ground and getting through security just in time to witness the toss.
The others, arriving by car, were also in reasonable time for the cricket though not the toss. We spent a great deal of time wondering how difficult it can possibly be for a hotel kitchen to churn out breakfasts at some sort of reasonable pace.
Jimmy Anderson was not able to do anything at reasonable pace that morning either – after four tidy overs he went off, never to be seen bowling again – at least, never in that match.
The other England bowlers set about their enhanced roles well; at one point having the Aussies 8 down for not much more than 120. Then Smith and Siddle went about staging a match-turning recovery. I blame Charles, who said he likes Siddle because he plays for Essex and that he wanted to see Siddle score a few. Turncoat. (Charley, I mean, not Siddle).
The picnic was a Dot “Mrs Malloy” special, with enough sandwiches to feed a small army and a great deal of non-perishable food which came in very handy on the Friday (and no doubt beyond).
Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub Me, Matthew, Peter, Chas, Nick & Harish
For reasons known only to himself, Nigel stood aside when a kindly bloke behind us offered to take our photo at stumps that day.
Matthew, Peter and I walked back; I parted company with them at St George’s Church to save a bit of time, as we had agreed to all meet in the Plough and Harrow bar for a couple of jars.
Over those jars, it transpired that Peter and his good lady had taken their honeymoon in Vanuatu, so we spent some time swapping Vanuatu trivia stories over drinks, which was better than another hot topic – bemoaning British and Australian politics.
Day Two: Friday 2 August 2019
I enjoyed an English breakfast, efficiently and effectively served, checked out of the The Eaton and walked to the ground alone today. I discovered all of the others in their seats around 10:40. No doubt they had gone down to breakfast in the Plough and Harrow at 6:30 in the morning or some such.
Our seats, directly opposite in The Raglan Stand, offer an excellent view of the shenanigans from an ideal distance. Several strolls all around the ground, including the back of the Hollies, reinforced my view that my ideal spectator experience is the very opposite of the Eric Hollies.
I did offer Peter and Matthew an opportunity to choose their own Ogblog pseudonyms, but, like most people, they were foolish enough to leave that matter up to me. Hence “Papa Pete Blong Vila” and “Boe Blong Pete” were born. More on them and all of us should appear on King Cricket, eventually.
Dumbo (my car) rode like the wind, but had to do so the long way round due to a closure on the M40. Thank goodness for the sat nav, which turned me round and sent me through Birmingham and the M6 South at the very start of my journey, otherwise the extra 20-25 minutes that the detour entailed might have been an extra hour plus in traffic jams.
Well played, Dumbo
I thought I’d left England in a good position at stumps on Day two, which I had. But in my absence it all unravelled in the next two-three days. Only Australians, neutrals or mentally strong England fans should click here for the scorecard and cricinfo resources on this match.
Russ London — (Russ London) [CC BY-SA 2.5 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5)], from Wikimedia Commons
This was the only one of the Wigmore Hall Lates concerts I booked this year and I don’t think Janie is now overly enthusiastic about me booking even one a year unless it is a “must see”.
It’s the Friday evening tiredness that gets Janie – especially after eating.
Perhaps I should have been wary of the lower case/UPPER CASE signal in the title of the concert.
Sean Shibe tries to show us the contrast and yet similarities between some beautiful, gentle 17th Century music from the Straloch and Rowallan Manuscripts and some modern electric guitar music of the most frenzied kind.
Here he is playing some of his gentle stuff – I believe the sample below is Dowland:
Although I much preferred Shibe’s acoustic guitar to his electric guitar work, I did really like one electric guitar piece: the Steve Reich Electric Counterpoint. Here is Steve Reich and Pat Metheney’s version of it:
I cannot find any YouTubes of Sean Shibe’s more ear-drum-splitting electric guitar music, with which he concluded the concert. You have been spared, dear reader. It ensured that Janie and I were wide awake for the journey home. Perhaps not in the very best of moods; but awake.
Perhaps we’re getting too old for this sort of caper.
