Oh dear, Elizabeth! This one sounded so much up our street in the promotional literature – two real world poets who corresponded for decades – their own words dramatised into a chamber play.
One of the conceits of this production is that different actors will play the roles each night, having never previously seen the script (or quite possibly each other) before.
We got Shalisha James-Davis and Emun Elliott our night. Emun seemd well up for a sight reading gig, but Shalisha, bless her, even admitted before the play proper started that sight reading was not really her forte.
I was reminded during the performance of the Peter Cook and Dudley Moore sketch, One Leg Too Few, in which a one-legged fellow auditions for the role of Tarzan.
https://youtu.be/lbnkY1tBvMU
You get my drift.
We wondered whether the piece would have worked better for us if both actors had been better able to sight read. It was especially disconcerting, given that Elizabeth Bishop was a woman of letters, to hear her character struggling to make sense of many words on the page…
…in truth, we suspect that the piece wouldn’t really have been for us anyway. The story told in these letters just didn’t grip us as we thought it could or should.
Here is a trailer from an earlier (US) production of the play:
https://youtu.be/Yt-qgskH6HI
Those who get to see some of the fine actors and actresses who are going to give The Gate’s experimental production a go might get a lot more out of it than we got, but for us, I’m afraid, both play and production are a dud.
The other memorable thing…but not in a good way, was the sycophantic audience – presumably friends of cast and crew – laughing at even the weakest jokes and desperately trying to give the impression that this thin gruel was enticing.
So rare at The Gate, but one we really didn’t take to – these things happen.
I first came across Janet Davis on the Middlesex Till We Die (MTWD) website around 2004, when I started reading and then contributing to the site.
In those days I would sometimes comment on a group of people I would describe as “The Allen Stand Gossips” – a devoted collection of Middlesex CCC fans who mostly sat in that stand and nearly always had some gossip to impart about the players and/or the club. I soon learnt who Janet Davis was amongst that loosely-associated group.
As I became more heavily involved in the MTWD site, I ascertained that Janet was one of the first Middlesex fans to use MTWD regularly. I also learnt that Janet’s relationship with the site administrators – back then David Slater, Jez Horne and Barmy Kev – was less than harmonious at times. I soon came to understand why.
Janet’s devotion to the club could sometimes bubble over into seemingly one-sided comments. For example, Middlesex would “recruit” players from other counties, while other counties would “poach” our players. Janet was keen to find out the gossip and would quiz players and their loved ones quite relentlessly. Then sometimes she would state on the MTWD board that she knew something about a player but “couldn’t say” what it was. Sometimes she would report a false rumour – no doubt in good faith – but the result might be problematic for the site administrators and the site.
When I became an MTWD administrator and took on most of the editorial side, at the start of the 2006 season, I suggested that we widen the base of people to provide editorial material. I suggested Janet as one of the people who could and should contribute that way. Thus Janet became a major contributor of match reports for a few years.
In fact, my research has uncovered that Janet had previously contributed a piece of winter editorial – in the winter of 2002/2003 – very early in the days of the MTWD site. Before my time. Here is a link to that piece. It is very insightful for this tribute article, as it has Janet saying, in her own words, how her lifetime of Middlesex fandom started and progressed. Here is the intro to that piece, which was published in early April 2003:
I have been a cricket fan since my school days (I will not tell you when as that will give my age away). In 1975 whilst watching cricket on tv, Middlesex got to two one day finals and lost. One of the commentators said what a good side they were and that they would challenge for a trophy in 1976. 1976 turned out to be the year of the drought, with no rain during the major part of the cricket season. I work as a Pharmacist, so I worked as a locum, taking time off every so often to go to various matches.
That was the year that I kept a scrap book, which has been given to Vinny [Codrington – former Chief Executive] for Middlesex archives.
I remember hot sunny days at Lords and making a new set of friends. I went to many of the away matches, some by train, some by car and some by coach. I will try and say a bit on the matches that I remember…
In the period that Janet regularly reported matches for MTWD, between 2006 and 2009, she provided a great many match reports and photographs. As the MTWD team had advised me, Janet wasn’t the easiest contributor on our books.
During the season, Janet would write to me and send me stuff most days – sometimes several times a day. Janet had latched on to me for this element of her life, although she didn’t know my true identity until 2008. My e-mail trawl for this tribute piece needed to be seen to be believed – I had forgotten how frequent the correspondence had been. Janet took lots of photos, but always landscape, even if taking a portrait.
Here is an example Janet sent me in July 2006, together with the full text of the accompanying e-mail, all of which might make Middlesex’s current captain (Dawid Malan, for ’tis he), blush:
” This is our new signing if anyone is interested. He’d compete with Nick Compton in the ‘pretty boy’ stakes “
Yes, Janet certainly had her favourites. Chad Keegan, I recall in particular. She also had a soft spot for Chris Wright – I remember Janet was devastated when Chris left Middlesex (or should I say, in Janet style, “was poached by Essex”?).
Janet’s match reports were often brimming with details about her life…details of her journey, her lousy neighbours, every aspect of the lunch she had brought with her, the posse of Allen Stand gossips who attended that day. Astonishingly, MTWD match report readers learnt more about Janet’s pussy (indeed several cats over the years) than the UK public ever learnt about Mrs Slocombe’s pussy, Tiddles, in Are You being Served.
Soon after Janet started reporting matches, I coined the byline “Auntie Janet” for her, rather than Janet Davis, although some pieces continued to go up under the more conventional byline. I thought “Auntie Janet” was appropriate for her and it seemed to stick.
One particular report of Auntie Janet’s from 2009, linked below, made me feel especially sad when skimming for this tribute piece. It is quintessentially Auntie Janet, with much talk about her knitting circle. In cricketing terms, it is primarily about a Phil Hughes performance for Middlesex in early 2009. The thought that both of those protagonists, Janet and Phil, are sadly/tragically no longer with us, brought quite a lump to my throat – click here for that 2009 piece…
Sadly, Janet became beset with health problems from 2010 onwards, so her visits to Lord’s became a rarity and her reporting ceased. I had in any case retired from all formats of MTWD by that time.
I am told that Janet continued to follow Middlesex avidly despite her ill health, so she must have been thrilled when we won the County Championship in such exciting circumstances in 2016. Goodness knows what Janet’s medical team must have needed to do at the climax of that epic season!
I have no photographs of Janet as an adult; she photographed players but didn’t send in pictures with her own image. Except for one winter, when we ran a baby photo competition. For some reason, Janet sent me two pictures; one of her as a baby (as requested) and the other from 1953 when she was nine years old. I have used the latter as the main photo for this feature. It’s all I have but also I think it is appropriate. Janet retained her childlike qualities throughout her life. Her manner could be frustrating for others at times, but Janet’s simple, unworldly demeanour was genuine and her devotion to Middlesex County Cricket Club unconditional.
Janet was one of the most dedicated fans of Middlesex County Cricket Club for many decades. She was, in every way, Middlesex Till She Died. Janet Davis 1944 to 2019; rest in peace.
As many friends and acquaintances know, I have been mucking around with a baritone ukulele for a few years now. I have also been taking an interest in the early music element of the instrument which is, to all intents and purposes, a Tudor guitar.
So I have recently been trying to combine some of the material I like for basic chordal strumming of songs I remember and like from my youth, with some of the techniques I’m starting to acquire to play early music.
Here are a couple of early efforts: Germ Free Adolescents and My Perfect Cousin, in the style of broadside ballads.
Here is Germ Free Adolescents in its original form by X-Ray Spex in 1978:
https://youtu.be/DGROSJbCPV8
Whereas, here is my humble effort, unplugged:
https://youtu.be/E-XLiGhXvF0
My Perfect Cousin was released by The Undertones in 1980:
https://youtu.be/Pgqa3cVOxUc
Whereas here is my more plaintive, unplugged version of the song:
https://youtu.be/IdijP6HhvmA
Work in progress, admittedly, but I feel there is something there – for me, even if not for anyone else.
Time Is Love/Tiempo es Amor is a fairly traditional revenge tragedy plot, played out in a sort-of film noir style. Imagine Raymond Chandler, Tennessee Williams and David Mamet collaborating on a revenge play set in the Latino (or should I say Latinx?) community in Los Angeles…you might be getting an idea of it.
At the end of a long week there’s always a risk that a 90 minute play without an interval will test our attention span – but this racey and pacey piece held our attention throughout.
Credit to Daisy for choosing this one – in truth, I wasn’t attracted to it by the bumf. Also, the fact that the writer, Chè Walker, was also directing, raised alarm bells with me. The absence of the checks and balances that a separate writer and director brings to a play/production is often a road to weakness, but in this case I think Chè Walker has pulled off a coup.
Daisy was ever so pleased with herself when we recalled that this one was very much her idea.
It wasn’t really a random concert. Katie Cowling was supposed to be delivering a programme named Blow Ye Winds with Johan Löfving, but Katie was poorly so Johan showed up with another of his regular pairings, flautist Yu-Wei Hu, to perform a slightly different programme named The English And French Gardens. The medieval element had gone but a fairly similar Baroque assortment to that originally planned.
From and linked to http://www.flauguissimoduo.com/ – photo by Aiga Ozo
So, it might not have been a random concert but it was a Random concert, by which I mean John Random was going to join me. Or was he? There was some traditional too-ing and fro-ing with “can make it”, “can’t make it”, “can make it but might be late” messages. In the end, John arrived in time to see all but the first sonata.
So this concert closed a loop or two. John really did get to hear and see a theorbo. In fact, I think the concert included a little first for me too, as Johan Löfving played a short theorbo solo piece – I don’t think I had ever heard the theorbo as a solo instrument before. It was a lovely little piece. Coincidentally, it was by Kapsberger, which also closed a loop for John, as although he had seen Les Kapsber’girls, on that occasion the girls did not perform anything by their eponymous composer. I managed to find a snippet of Johan Löfving playing the very piece in question:
Not the best recorded audio nor video you’ll ever see, but a rare sighting of solo theorbo
Here is another short vid, which shows both of the Flauguissimo Duo – the Sonata by Johan Helmich Roman which they played as the closing number of our concert:
It really was a very charming lunchtime concert – these SJSS ones are such a treat when I can get to them and it was such a pleasure to be able to share that musical experience with John.
Afterwards John and I had a bite of lunch together in the crypt, which is a great place to eat and drink. John described it as his favourite crypt. Janie would agree wholeheartedly with that – she is also a devotee of the SJSS crypt, claiming that the crypt is the best thing about the whole place and that some small scale concerts should be held down there.
John suggested that he would like to spend far more time reading Ogblog than he has available and that a decent length of custodial sentence might provide him with the time and inclination so to read.
I suggested that, on our way back to Westminster Tube Station, we might ask some of the more pugnacious Brexit protesters on College Green to provide John with the means to such a custodial sentence, but John demurred. Not dedicated enough to Ogblog, then?
Time flew by and I realised that I really needed to get back to the flat, as I had arranged further Renaissance/Baroque style activity for the rest of the day – a lesson on early music guitar technique with Ian Pittaway…
…who subsequently sent me a link to this lovely 10 minute vid by Elizabeth Kenny explaining everything you ever wanted to know about the theorbo but were afraid to ask…
…followed by a real tennis bout at Lord’s against a nemesis-like adversary, formerly a seriously top-ranking amateur cricketer, against whom I had never previously emerged victorious at tennis. But, steeled by all this early music, I did prevail for once this day.
Sadly, we have no photo or video of Colin’s performance. Actually, that might be just as well.
Let’s sign off instead with some more Flauguissimo Duo – not a piece we heard on that day but a really lovely rendering of some Gluck and a chance to see Johan Löfving’s guitar playing and some beautiful virtuoso flute playing by Yu-Wei Hu:
I haven’t written about real tennis for a while. I am motivated to do so now (February 2019) due to the sad news that Michael Constantinidi, one of the MCC’s most senior players, passed away, aged 90, last week.
I partnered Michael in a game of “senior doubles” only a few week’s before he died and saw him on court just a few days before his sudden and unexpected departure.
Michael was an extremely likeable and charming man. It was always a pleasure to share the tennis court with him, either as his partner or as one of his adversaries.
Partnering Michael was almost like having a lesson. Not only because Chris Swallow, one of the professionals, was very often on the other side of the net trying to make life difficult (but not too difficult) for me, but because Michael would gently help me with praise and/or with context for my mistakes.
If I berated myself or apologised for a miss, he might say…
no, no, that was a very difficult ball, you did well to almost make it
…or if I missed a straight-forward shot, as oft I do, he might say:
never mind – you haven’t missed many all day.
On that day we played together in early January, I sensed that I was flagging a little towards the end of my second hour – I had played a rigorous game of singles against the actor Michael Keane (another delightful playing companion) before joining the seniors for doubles. But you wouldn’t have sensed any frustration from my doubles partner as my performance dipped late in the hour.
Michael Constantinidi was also a delightful gentleman with whom to chat in the locker room after a game. He’d led an interesting life and could discuss a great many subjects with insight and warmth.
He had been keen fives player – he had chaired the Eton Fives Association for many years. My fives game had been the Rugby Fives variety, but it transpired that Michael had spent much of his time with the Eton Fives Association building bridges between the two versions of the sport. Indeed, he had opened the refurbished fives courts at my old school, Alleyn’s some years ago.
Here’s a video that shows one of Michael’s pet Eton Fives projects, at Westway:
Whereas here is a promo video about Rugby Fives – no buttress but there is a back wall:
Michael Constantinidi used to joke with me that he was no use at taking the real tennis ball off the back wall because of his Eton Fives background, which presumably means that I still have ever so much more to learn about the tambour (the real tennis buttress) as a former Rugby Fives player.
But returning to Michael Constantinidi and real tennis; for a gentleman in his late 80s and latterly over 90, Michael was a remarkably good player still, moving around the court with surprising ease and speed.
But the thing about Michael’s real tennis play that I simply must write down and try to describe for posterity was his serve. It was bizarre…almost defying description…quite simply unique.
There are a great many different serves at real tennis, all with quirky names: giraffe, boomerang, railroad, bobble, demi-piquet and piquet (my own favourite)…
…but Michael’s serve was seemingly from another lexicon, or even from another planet.
Try to imagine an exaggerated version of a lawn tennis over-arm serve motion, not a million miles different from a “T-serve”, broken down into a couple of dozen individual, jerky, stop-frame motions, before the racket finally makes contact with the ball…
…Michael’s serve looked a little like that.
The coaches are encouraging me to try to simplify my serve, to minimise the amount of pre-impact movement, to concentrate on the essential part of the serve – where the racket impacts the ball – trying to get the desired amount of force, spin and length onto the ball. That is excellent advice, I understand, but it is entirely contre-Constantinidi.
And the extraordinary thing is, that not only did Michael’s Heath-Robinson-looking wind up to serve tend to transfix, hypnotise and confuse his opponent…
…it was on most occasions consistently accurate and surprisingly tricky to return. Like much in real tennis, it made little or no sense but somehow it worked for Michael. And probably only for Michael.
I don’t think we’ll see the like of Michael’s serve again, but if by some strange quirk of fate someone, somewhere decides to serve in that manner, I think it should be known for ever more as “The Constantinidi Serve”.
One can only assume the near-spherical symbols indicate “hard balls”.
Like the vast majority of real tennis players, Michael Constantinidi loved his hard ball sports, yet he was the softest, gentlest fellow with whom to play sport and delightful company off the court. His cheerful and charming demeanour will be fondly remembered and sadly missed around Lord’s.
This is a very interesting movie; in some ways an entertaining documentary and in other ways disturbing/thought-provoking.
It is the true story of identical siblings who were separated at birth as part of an ill-conceived scientific experiment and who become reunited in their late teens by happenstance.
While the other films we saw this season were all very interesting, both about the people involved and the issues those people encountered in their lives, Three Identical Strangers was deeper in that it made us think about a great many hugely important issues, ranging from medical ethics to the nature verses nurture debate.
The movie is extremely well made. It avoids the pitfall of trying to be too conclusive whereas, in reality, part of the fascination and tragedy of the story is that it isn’t and could never have been conclusive.
Janie and I saw the movie early evening and then spent the rest of the evening debating the issues. Highly recommended.
Actually I ended 2018 reading the following short Kindle book by my old Alleyn’s school buddy, David Wellbrook.
I would like to recommend David’s book, My Good Friend, highly to anyone who cares to pay attention to my opinion.
I say, “I would like to”, rather than “I have recommended”, because Amazon, in their (absence of) wisdom, chose to reject the following review, which I submitted this morning:
An Exceptionally Good “Merry Pranks” Chapbook
This is a chapbook in the Renaissance sense of the word – i.e. a short, inexpensive booklet or short book. As it happens, it is also a “chap book” in the more modern sense, as it is a comedic set of anecdotes about the scrapes two young chaps – inseparable friends, who manage to get each other into (and sometimes out of) trouble.
Imagine a version of “Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks” with two central practical joker characters and you are starting to get the picture.
The adventures of this pair of twenty-somethings, David Wellbrook and his “Good Friend”, in the 1980s, mostly occurred either when they went on holiday together or when they were chasing opportunities to make a quick buck and/or score with young women.
The identity of My Good Friend appears to be a closely guarded secret. Some sources suggest that he is now a knight of the realm. Other sources suggest that he is an ordained minister of the Church. It is also rumoured that he was transported to the antipodes before the end of the 1980s, where he remains at large. On my reading of this laugh-out-loud short book, it is quite possible that “My Good Friend” today is all of those things and more besides.
More than just funny, the book is ultimately warm and charming. Read it and you’ll no doubt wish that you had spent your school days growing up with these clowns. I know I did.
Within about one minute of my submission, I received the following e-mail rejection:
Thank you for submitting a customer review on Amazon. After carefully reviewing your submission, your review could not be posted to the website. While we appreciate your time and comments, reviews must adhere to the following guidelines: http://www.amazon.co.uk/review-guidelines
I felt quite put out by that rejection, for several reasons:
It was nigh-on impossible for someone to have really read, by which I mean read, thought about and cognitively digested, the content of my review in the short interval between my posting and the rejection notice;
I have submitted several Amazon reviews in the past and never been rejected before;
I carefully read the review guidelines and could not work out which element of the guidelines I was deemed to have breached;
I did feel that the one review that Amazon has published so far for this book, by Derin, was, in my opinion, while amusing and a nice bit of fun amongst old friends, in breach of several of the guidelines…unlike mine. Here is a scrape of Derin’s review which might well bite the Amazonian dust if by chance Amazon wonks start crawling all over this incident:
So, I decided to appeal to Amazon customer service in order to have the injustice reversed. I wrote as follows:
I am horrified that you have rejected my thoughtful and well-crafted review for this book – see below. The review was rejected within seconds, so I do not believe that someone gave it due consideration at all, whereas, I’m sure you can tell, the review is well-written and honest.
Frankly, if you do not reconsider and choose instead to publish the review I shall never review anything on Amazon again.
Here is the reference number that came with the rude e-mail from you – thereafter the content I sent: Reference A1F83G8C2ARO7P-RKQCVM2C9B62D.
A couple of hours later I received the following Kurt reply:
Hello Mr Ian L Harris,
This is Kurt from Amazon Customer Care.
I apologise if your feel that your review of “My Good Friend” by David Wellbrook has been rejected.
Thank you for taking the time to provide not only a well thought out but also a heartfelt review of one of our Kindle Titles.
We do not wish to make you feel rejected and sincerely how that you continue to provide both Amazon and Amazon Customers with more of your book reviews.
It always helps customers like yourself to find the right title for themselves and helps Amazon find the right title types to provide to loyal customers like you.
We hope you continue your Kindle reading and heartfelt review.
If you require any other assistance, we can be reached 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. You can contact us by following the link below: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/help/customer/contact-us
Thank you for taking time to contact Amazon.
Your feedback is helping us build Earth’s Most Customer-Centric Company.
Warmest regards, Kurt C Amazon.co.uk
So that’s it then. My appeal has been denied. The use of English in the denial note is so awful, it cannot even be an entirely algorithmic decision (I figure the original rejection decision might well have been).
So please allow me, in my own space, to unpick that travesty of an e-mail reply from customer services.
…I apologise if your feel that your review of “My Good Friend” by David Wellbrook has been rejected…
I don’t FEEL that it has been rejected; it HAS been rejected.
…We do not wish to make you feel rejected and sincerely how that you continue to provide both Amazon and Amazon Customers with more of your book reviews…
I think you mean “hope” not “how”, but there is no point hoping, Kurt. When I said, “if you do not reconsider and choose instead to publish the review I shall never review anything on Amazon again“, I meant it.
…It always helps customers like yourself to find the right title for themselves and helps Amazon find the right title types to provide to loyal customers like you...
I see. So you want me to write reviews, which you will publish or reject at your algorithmic whim, so that you can sell me and other people more stuff. Well, I think I told you before that you have blown that deal with me and it should come as no surprise that the deal is still blown. Now with brass knobs on
… Your feedback is helping us build Earth’s Most Customer-Centric Company…
I am hoping against hope that Amazon’s corporate behaviour today is not the Earth’s most customer centric stuff.
…Warmest regards, Kurt C …
Well, I guess it was a pun to describe the denial note as Kurt, as I suppose there is an attempt at courtesy, but to milk a similar pun, it is an “empty Kurt C” as far as I am concerned.
So, my dear friends, there it is, my first rejection of 2019 and it wasn’t even past noon on the 1st of January.
I tried to help David Wellbrook in his quest to storm the world of electronic publishing, but I failed to get past the first hurdle.
In similar circumstances, David’s “Good Friend”, The Right Reverend Sir Nigel Godfrey, would, by now, no doubt, not only have had his review published but also been given a year’s free subscription to Amazon Ultra Platinum Prime for his trouble…
…oh darn, I think I’ve just blown the Good Friend’s cover.
Anyway, it is possible that more potential but undecided readers will land here than on that crummy Amazon Review area. So if you are one of those potential readers…
Janie and I had (are having) ample opportunity to play tennis over the holiday season this year. The weather is dull but basically dry and warm enough to enable us to play.
The majority of our contests have been draws. Of the eight contests we’ve had over the holiday season so far (as I write on 31 December), five have ended undecided as 5-5 draws. Until today the completed sets sat at 1-1. Today I managed to win the set, but was down in the second set when we agreed we’d had enough.
Picture from Nemu in Japan last month – imagine that racket spped
Janie is playing powerfully these days and is also mixing up her play to put me off my rhythm.
And talking of powerful women…
…our traditional Curzon film fest over Twixtmas has been a veritable powerful women fest.
Yayoi Kusama’s story really is fascinating, as is her art. The more perceptive Ogblog readers might have observed a sample of her infinity work taking over the look of Ogblog in the past week or so.
Actually we were glad to have the DVD rather than a cinema viewing of this one – as the subtitles were a bit difficult to read at times and tended to move on ridiculously quickly on some occasions, so we were grateful for the chance to scroll back and make sure we had assimilated the wise words.
Here is the official trailer for that movie:
The DVD is still available (just not from Victoria Miro) – e.g. from Amazon.
28th December we went, after work, to the Curzon Bloomsbury to see Matangi/Maya/M.I.A. Frankly, we hadn’t heard of rapper and activist Mathangi Arulpragasam, aka M.I.A. but thought her story and the description of the movie sounded fascinating.
Here is the official trailer for that movie:
It is a fascinating movie. Elements of the film go to the heart of debates about activism around complex causes. Other elements are almost comedic documentary, such as the apparently infamous incident where M.I.A. “gives the finger” to camera when performing for the Superbowl and kicks off a massive controversy – that bit reminded me more of Spinal Tap than Joan Baez or Pussy Riot.
Slightly strange mix of audience at the Curzon too. Mostly younger people who clearly have an affinity with M.I.A. as a contemporary singer, with a smattering of (how do I put this politely?) somewhat older-looking folk, like ourselves, who were probably there for the human rights more than the music. The fussy white-haired lady on our row of the Dochouse seemed to have come straight from “human-rights-activist central casting”.
The movie was well worth seeing.
30 December we returned to the Curzon Bloomsbury to see the movie about Hedy Lamarr.
Here is the official trailer of Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story:
I had read quite a lot about this one and it is a fascinating tale. Not only her achievements as an inventor of information & communications technology but also the way she completely changed (some would say reinvented) her life after escaping from Austria in the troubled 1930s. I had previously read about her scientific inventions but, before seeing the movie, I had no idea that she was born and raised Jewish nor that her first marriage was to an Austrian armaments manufacturer who had sold weapons to Hitler.
As with all three of these movies, I couldn’t completely buy in to the “powerful woman who have been denied their rightful credit” story. All three of these women are, unquestionably, to some extent, victims of injustice. Hedy Lamarr by all accounts should have benefited from her patent on frequency-hopping (or spread spectrum) telecommunications. But then, so should her co-inventor, George Antheil – he remains even less remembered for the invention that Hedy Lamarr. It is also a huge stretch to attribute all of the value in GPS, Bluetooth and Wifi to the technology in that patent.
In truth, all three of the powerful women in these movies have benefited from their beauty and charisma, while also being held back from some of the credit that might have accrued to their efforts had they been men or had they arrived at their achievements from more conventional routes.
But then, even Janie’s powerful tennis comes from an unusual source these days…
…anyway, my excuse is that it is difficult to concentrate on getting the ball back time and time again, when you know that the power and balance in Janie’s shots is being cultivated by such unconventional tennis preparation:
Making my head spin…
This will be my last posting for 2018 – happy new year to those Ogblog readers who follow Ogblog contemporarily.
Clearly not. In my own defence, I thought that activity would have died down by the Saturday before Christmas. For us, work-wise, it had – but not for the shops and shoppers in neighbouring Oxford Street. Who knew?
In any case, I was very keen to see and hear this concert. Janie and I had very much enjoyed the Avital Meets Avital concert some eighteen months earlier:
So I was fascinated to see how Avi Avital got on with Baroque music and sort of glossed over the proximity to Christmas when I booked this Venice Baroque Orchestra concert.
Suffice it to say that the journey was suitably awful for Janie and me to agree, “never again at this time of year”…again. Yet, also again, the pain soon turned to pleasure when we listened to the music and watched the musicians.
Mostly Vivaldi, but we got to hear some Geminiani (of the Corelli variety) and one piece by a later Neapolitan composer, Giovanni Paisiello. Avi told a fruity anecdote about the difference between Venetians and the hyper-romantic Neapolitans.
Avi Avital also told an amusing anecdote from his early childhood about falling in love with the Winter concerto from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, only to find out some years later that the piece he had actually fallen in love with was the Summer Concerto. Avi claims, it wasn’t until he went to Venice to work with the Venice Baroque Orchestra, that he actually experienced a violent summer thunder storm and realised why that stormy-sounding music represented summer rather than winter.
But the most interesting anecdote, which Avi told right at the end of the concert, was the fact that the concert very nearly didn’t happen at all. Most of the musicians were stranded as a result of the Gatwick Airport Drone Incident, which had required Avi’s team and the Wigmore Hall to work tirelessly rerouting musicians to enable the concert to go ahead. And we thought we’d had a stressful journey to that concert!
The orchestra are clearly seasoned exponents of this flavour of baroque music, although we felt that one or two members of the orchestra were not at their best that evening; perhaps travel or even life weary.
Avi Avital is an extraordinary, charismatic virtuoso of his instrument – his quality shines through all he plays. Yet, Janie and I both felt, some of the pieces that have been transposed from violin virtuoso pieces lose some of their musical quality through the transposition. Not for want of fine playing, but simply because the mandolin is a more limited, metal-stringed instrument. I enjoyed the change in some of the transposed pieces, but really missed the violin’s colour on others.
Below is a YouTube of a lovely, similar performance from a concert in Seoul a few week’s earlier:
