This was one of the first plays/productions we saw at the Hampstead Downstairs, which helped to cement our view that the small house down there is a happening space.
In truth, this particular piece did not really float our boat – we’ve seen rather a lot of Kafkaesque pieces about absurd bureaucracy, yet there was enough in this one to keep us motivated and wanting to come back for more.
…then following the test match for the rest of the weekend, then rounding off the weekend with some early music at SJSS?
That was a rhetorical question, people. There is NO better way.
We went to see Musica ad Rhenum under Jed Wentz. I always worry about people named Jed, because I am so regularly having my pseudonym, Ged, mis-spelt as Jed. My life would be easier if these J-people chose not to abbreviate their names to Jed. I don’t think I am asking too much there.
But I digress.
The music was mostly Couperin – see extract from the programme below.
It was part of the Lufthansa Festival of Baroque Music that year – we just chose the one concert. It was one delightful concert too.
Yes, Janie and I did have a giggle at one of the pieces being named “La toilette de Venus”. Yes we can both be very childish.
For some reason, Jed Wentz and Musica ad Rhenum have put an enormous amount of their Couperin instrumental music into the public domain, so you can listen here:
The closest I can get to a sample of the lovely soprano, Andréanne Paquin, is the following choir piece, which includes her, singing Charpentier/Lully – not a million miles from Couperin:
Anyway, the above is a really lovely short vid. If you don’t like it, you can metaphorically flush it down La Metaphorical Toilette de Venus by not playing it.
Our little group for this day of test cricket comprised Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett, Mac Small (who used to look after our cars, Noddy & Nobby, at Ruislip Honda), me and Daisy.
Daisy and I both recall that I was on picnic duty that day, so I no doubt did the smoked salmon bagels thing, plus probably some ham and cheese rolls or something of that ilk.
Everyone brought their wine/beer ration which made for a jolly day in the spring sunshine. Not “o-t ‘ot” but certainly “very very warm for May”. We were either in the Upper Compton or the Upper Edrich – I cannot remember which. Good seats, I do remember.
Mac hails originally from Barbados. Charley seemed convinced that Mac must be related to the great Gladstone Small. Indeed Chas failed to hide his extreme disappointment when Mac informed him, rather emphatically, that he and Gladstone were not related. Mac and Chas spoke little after that.
In truth, Mac is a fairly quiet chap and seemed to be enjoying his day at Lord’s in a rather Zen style, while Chas and I chatted incessantly about cricket, as usual. Daisy drifted between a quiet state and joining in the conversation.
England were doing rather well, it has to be said. We saw Andrew Strauss score a ton, which was always a bonus for us, especially for Daisy, who single-handedly revived Straussy’s career with a pep talk back in 2008 – a matter to be Ogblogged in the fullness of time.
We vaguely recall that Mac left a little earlier than the rest of us, but not very early. Daisy and I are pretty sure Mac enjoyed his day, as afterwards he often referred to it, in only positive tones.
We were really looking forward to this piece but found it disappointing.
It felt to us like a rather inconsequential, silly piece trying to be profound.
Cate Blanchett has never really done the business for me on stage. Strangely, with this piece, my feelings about her undoubted abilities as an actress were enhanced but it would have been a struggle for anyone to wring much out of this play.
But actually I was brought up with some early Baroque madrigals ringing in my ears – a reel-to-reel recording, made by my father, from the radio, of Monteverdi’s Madrigals of Love and War.
The extraordinary BBC genome Project allows me to find the concert in question so easily it is almost embarrassingly easy – it was broadcast on 4 June 1974 at 21:50 – click here. I wouldn’t have heard the recording on that day – clearly, but dad probably played it to me pretty soon afterwards and I remember listening to it a lot that summer. The concert had originally taken place in October 1973 – a few weeks after I started secondary school.
But I digress…
…except to say that I had never heard any Madrigals of Love and War live and was keen to hear some – hence my particular desire to book this concert.
Thursday evening is not (and in those days certainly was not) Janie’s favourite night to go to a concert. Nor is Monteverdi one of her favourites.
This concert conformed Janie’s view that Monteverdi is not really for her. All too noisy and the male singing is a bit shouty, she claims. I sort-of know what she means, without agreeing with the conclusion.
Janie did enjoy some of the instrumental music, though…
…here is a vid of some other folk playing the opening number we heard that evening – Falconieri’s lovely Ciaconna in G major:
I recall Janie and I both really enjoying this short, unusual, imaginative piece, written and performed by Inua Ellams.
I think it pleased us more than it pleased many of the critics, many of whom found the piece lightweight compared with its big themes of globalisation, the fashion industry and anti-gay prejudice in Africa.
I seem to recall that this piece charmed me more than it did Daisy. Eduardo De Filippo is never going to be her type of playwright, even when Tanya Ronder writes a spicy version of this uber-Neapolitan play.
A fine production. Samantha Spiro was excellent as the eponymous lead, along with a good supporting cast.
Below is the trailer:
Also an interesting interview with Michael Attenborough about the play:
…but ultimately the play could only achieve so much – I think most of the critics, like Janie, were underwhelmed by the play but they also – like me – found the production charming and worthwhile – click here for a search term to find the reviews.
A double bill of Martin Crimp plays, the first brand new, the second an older one.
Part of the Orange Tree’s 40th anniversary celebrations and a nod to one of its bigger achievements; championing Martin Crimp’s work in the early days.
Janie and I absolutely loved this exhibition of Hockney’s big landscape works.
It was the day after Uncle Michael’s funeral. We had booked a Friday late slot for this exhibition many weeks before. The exhibition was colourful relief after a sad day.
Janie loved it all so much she bought the book and we went off to Yorkshire in search of Hockney’s Wolds the following spring…to be Ogblogged when I get to it.
Hockney says you cannot photograph those Wolds and in a way he is right, but still I did have a go when we visited in 2013:
Below is a video in which curator Marco Livingstone explains the exhibition:
In short, we really loved this exhibition at the Royal Academy.
