An Award-Winning Evening During Which I Hung Out With The Alleyn’s Old Boys Crowd, Sripur Restaurant, 6 December 2018

Long ago arranged and long looked forward to, the (ir)regular gathering of old boys from Alleyn’s seemed to be looming as normal (Walrus & Carpenter followed by Rajasthan), when out of the blue we received a missive from our (un)official organizer, John Eltham, with some unexpected changes.

There are 15 people signed up for our festive evening.
PLEASE NOTE NEW VENUE – 200 YARDS DIFFERENCE
7.00PM Hung, Drawn & Quartered pub – 26-27 Great Tower Street… 8.00PM Sripur restaurant – 25 Great Tower Street – yes it is next door !

Here are links to the two venues themselves:

The change would be more than a little discombobulating for some. Let us not forget that Nigel Boatswain, for example, a few years ago, struggled to find a new venue that was described to him as “right in front of the Monument”, because he couldn’t figure out a landmark from which to navigate. Mike Jones, who had been our Geography teacher back in days of yore, must have found his former charge’s geo-spacial shortcomings somewhat chastening. 

In fact Mike Jones was one of several people who was listed to attend this 6 December gathering but latterly dropped out. He might have found the name of the pub an affront to his liberal arts background. Not only does the name describe a particularly barbaric medieval form of capital punishment, but a grammatically flawed rendering thereof. In my minds ear, I can hear Mike Jones gently correcting…

…hanged, drawn & quartered, NOT hung. Paintings are/were hung, people unfortunate enough to be executed that way were hanged.

Execution of Hugh Despenser the Younger, …[from] the Froissart of Louis of Gruuthuse
(Public Domain picture https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanged,_drawn_and_quartered)

That barbaric punishment was reserved for high treason and was abolished nearly 150 years ago, although the hanging bit stuck around a lot longer and treason only (technically) ceased to be a capital offence 20 or so years ago.

In these troubled times, of course, who knows what legislative changes our so-called leaders might make in the crime and punishment department. Further, many of us who gathered have been known to say publicly things that certain tabloid newspapers might deem to make us “enemies of the people”…which is to say, treasonous.

Personally I have far less to worry about than most of my compadres, as I am a Freeman of the City of London. Thus, if I were to be hanged, I could choose to be dispatched with a silken rope, not the common or garden rubbish rope that my co-conspirators would doubtless suffer. I find that thought incredibly reassuring in the present political climate.

But I digress.

In the end, nine of us gathered and a jolly good gathering it was too, although those who were unable to attend were, of course, sorely missed. In no particular order, the nine were: Ben Clayson, David French, David Wellbrook, John Eltham, Ollie Goodwin, Paul Driscoll, Paul Spence, Rohan Candappa, me.

It was an incredibly mild evening, enabling us to take our pre-dinner libations in the street, although John Eltham did complain about feeling cold at one juncture. But then again, John had removed his coat for some reason.

The Sripur Restaurant was heaving and our group of nine was clearly at least one more than the restaurant was expecting. To be fair, the booking for 14 which had descended to “probably 8-10” in some ways deserved its relegation. We all nine squeezed round a table that would have been comfy for six and just about OK for eight. It didn’t really matter.

The food was pretty good. Perhaps not quite as flavoursome as the Rajasthan (he says based on one main dish and some sides), but similar quality.

The Sripur Nine were all in pretty good form. The bants and reminiscences flew around the table like a metaphorical food fight with poppadom-Frisbees.

Towards the end of the meal, Rohan Candappa solemnly announced that he had a sports trophy to award. he noted that most of the people in our group had been pretty sporty at school; only one or two of us had not. But, as Rohan pointed out, there should be sports awards for exceptional performance even when it comes from someone less naturally sporty than most.

Rohan then passed an engraved trophy around the room for everyone to read, much to the mirth, one by one, of the readers…one by one, that is, to everyone except me. Once John Eltham had the prize in his hands, he was instructed to hand it to me.

It was a trophy commemorating my quarter-final win over John Eltham in the fives competition, on 9 June 1975:

An Uneventful Day Playing Fives, 9 June 1975

9 June 1975 – Fives Quarter Final – Ian Harris beat John Eltham

What a moment in my less-than illustrious sporting career. A trophy. Of course, Rohan was right. I had never personally held a trophy for sport of any kind. That quarter-final win remains the pinnacle of my achievement at an individual sport.

Left to right: John Eltham (just in picture), Rohan Candappa, Paul Driscoll & Ollie Goodwin…with MY trophy centre

I proudly took my trophy back to the flat and have placed it in as suitable a location as I can currently muster – in the drinks cabinet section of my built-in book shelves and cabinets, between two personalised krugs (beer steins). 

But I am not expecting my sporting awards (belated and future) to start and end here; why on earth should they?

For a start, I’m a little surprised that an earlier event on the fives court has not yet received the recognition it deserved…

A Marathon Day Of Court Sport; Fives and Fridge Ball, 4 December 1974

…beat Mason & Candappa 15-7…

…or if not that one, then surely the day, only one month after my historic victory in the fives quarter final against John Eltham, when I took a hat trick at cricket for 2AK against 2BJ on the very day that 2AK won the tournament:

The Day I Took A Hat Trick At Cricket, Alleyn’s School, 9 July 1975

…and who knows what future glories are to come in the world of real tennis, where I have managed quarter final berths (albeit losing ones) in each of the two years I have been playing internal tournaments at Lord’s. And occasionally representing the club:

Big Match Weekend At Lord’s Part One: MCC v HAC Real Tennis Match, 21 July 2017

So, my dear old school friends, especially the sporty ones, I need your help. I mean, obviously the drinks cabinet will do for the time being as a temporary resting place for my trophy, but clearly I need to have built a bespoke trophy cabinet for my current and potential future collection of sporting trophies. You fellows, accustomed to the world of sporting trophies, surely can advise me on the size and shape of trophy cabinet that will serve me best.

But that is about me and the future – this article is primarily about the splendid gathering of old boys eating, drinking, banting and making merry in the City. As usual the time flew by, until several folks with trains to catch realised that their choices were starting to diminish and that the evening should come to an end.

As usual with this group, we managed to avoid the dreaded bodmin, although some suggested that we should play the game of spoof to saddle one “boy” with the whole bill. We decided against, but I note on reading up on that (unfamiliar to me) game, that some play spoof for prizes and trophies. Perhaps I should get into spoof at a competitive level – I was a dab hand at bridge back in the old school days.

It was a great evening – I’m already looking forward to the next one.

Vegetarian Dinner With John White At Vanilla Black, 3 December 2018

Yes, you’ve seen it written here in black and white; we dined in a vegetarian restaurant, Vanilla Black, suggested by John White.

I hope you’re not going soft on me, John…

…I said, when John’s suggestion came in. But John insisted that this Michelin-starred vegetarian restaurant was quite exceptional; he had tried the place recently with one of his daughters, Lydia.

It’s a slippery slope, this…

…said Janie when I told her. Janie is not a great one for vegetarian food – indeed it was she who went a little crazy in Japan after one meal in the vegetarian monastery retreat of her own choosing on Mount Koya:

Japan Day Ten: Journey To Koyasan And Cemetery Walk, 29 October 2018

Next it will be veganism and after that John will become an even fussier eater than Kim.

John and I discussed those possibilities early in the evening and concluded that my concerns (and especially Janie’s) were ill-founded. We should have had that early discussion in the Seven Stars pub nearby, but I was a little late and John was running even later, so we agreed that I would abandon the (to be honest, over-crowded) pub and we’d meet in the restaurant. 

This enabled John, although he had been running later than me, to get to the restaurant first. We texted each other with some bants while I was walking and when I arrived at Vanilla Black, John was texting away, presumably in my direction. I suggested that we might stop doing “the youngster  thing” (sitting in restaurants playing with our phones rather than talking), but John wondered whether conversation by text while face-to-face might be fun. (No.)

Here is a link to a sample of the excellent menu. 

Here is a scrape of the actual menus that were around at that time.

We started with (see photo above):

  • Carrot Broth, Coffee Shortbread and Carrot Cake – Pickled Walnuts and Spiced Carrot Purée (John )
  • Edamame Bean Ice Cream, Sesame Cracker and Nasturtium – Crispy Soy Sauce, Pean and Edamame Bean Salsa (Me)

Then we progressed to:

  • Celeriac Profiteroles, Dill and Raisins – Vanilla Roasted Celeriac and Pickled Red Cabbage (John)
  • Fried Shiitake, Pine Nut Purée and Crispy Enoki – Marsala and Pine Salt (me)

Then we found room for deserts too:

  • Gianduja Chocolate Brownie and Roasted Hazelnut Ice Cream – Tiger Nut Milk, Salted Chocolate and Nutella Powder (John)
  • Banana Ice Cream, Whipped Toffee and Banana Biscuit – Vanilla Cream and Toffee (Me)

All of the food was genuinely delicious and we both agreed that we were having an excellent meal.

We tried a rather interesting wine from the excellent wine list, which went well with our food, although the staff said that most punters are not brave enough to try it: ORANGE WINE ZERO-GMT, MULLER THURGAU. John and I were sufficiently brave and were rewarded for our bravery.

As usual, we discussed many subjects, ranging from personal, work, through the ghastly domestic politics to international affairs. When the topical subjects of the Uyghur people in Xinjiang and the Chinese Social Credit System came up over dessert, John said that it reminded him of the fate of Citizen Smith. I paused for a moment and suggested,

I think you mean Winston Smith from 1984, Citizen Smith was the Freedom For Tooting fellow.


We had a bit of a laugh about that and I promised to milk the joke on Ogblog.

I imagine a couple of scenarios in which we switch the characters around. For example, a comedic version of 1984 in which Big Brother’s thought police spy on Wofie (Citizen) Smith only to discover how hapless he is so they decide to leave him alone:

Image from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Citizen_smith.jpg – based on the same fair use rationale as Wikipedia

Alternatively, a dystopian version of Citizen Smith, in which Winston’s parochial attempts to liberate Tooting from the clutches of Wandsworth Council inexorably lead to Winston Smith’s torture and incarceration in the dreaded Room 101, in which dire situation comedies from the 1970s and 1980s are shown on a loop until the victim breaks down and submits to the authorities.

Image from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Winston_Smith.jpg – based on the same fair use rationale as Wikipedia

John obviously thought my ideas for milking his slip of the tongue were very funny, as he laughingly gestured that he thought I should milk the joke with at least four scenarios:

So, I think it is safe to say that John has not gone soft on me after all. 

In fact, the more observant reader (who drills into the menu) might notice that it was me who ate an entirely vegan meal that evening – not by vegan design but simply because the dishes I chose all happened to be vegan.

Even Janie seems to be somewhat of a convert after I showed her the pictures and described the dishes – I can hear her on the telephone as I write telling Kim that she thinks Vanilla Black might be a good place for them to go.

As always, it was great to catch up with John regardless of the food and drink- although we do try (and mostly succeed) in also having great food and drink too. This Vanilla Black and John White evening was great in all of those respects.

International Pickled Herring of the Year (IPHY) Awards, aka Dinner at Jacquie Briegal’s Place, 1 December 2018

Exceptional Schmaltz Herring; the people’s choice as well as the judge’s

Don’t ask me how or why she does it, but Jacquie seemed set on the idea of a seasonal herring fest again this year, despite her (and latterly us) being away for the regular season and despite the stupendous effort that must be involved.

Eight of us gathered for dinner at Jacquie’s place; Josh, Melody, Sonia, Michael, Hils, me and Janie.

We spent the early part of the evening – some would even call it late afternoon – drinking, chatting and (in some cases) getting to know each other. For me and Janie, this was the first time we’d met Sonia (Jacquie’s friend) and Melody (Josh’s girlfriend). Everyone else we’ve known for yonkers.

Hils and Janie on a previous occasion – neither Chez Briegal nor a herring-fest

By coincidence, a couple of days earlier, I had been doing a retro-blogging trawl from exactly 30 years ago and realised that I had visited Jacquie (and in those days Len) almost exactly 30 years ago to the day:

Left My Job At Newman Harris, Moved To Clanricarde Gardens And Started Work For Binder Hamlyn Management Consultants, 18 November to 1 December 1988

After plenty of drinks and chat – downstairs for the herring fest and more chat.

Jacquie Briegal’s table, minimally laden, from a previous herring fest

The herring awards tradition is described in the following piece from 2016 – click here or below:

Pickled Herring Of The Year Competition and Other Delights, 12 October 2016

In truth, to call the meal a herring fest is a bit of a misnomer – or more specifically an understatement – as the culinary delights on show go way beyond herring; smoked salmon, poached salmon, gefilte fish balls, egg-and-onion, cheeses…

…I could go on and very often I do go on.

Talking of which, the talking is as much a central part of the evening as the eating. The conversation covered all manner of subjects, ranging from topical politics, to new media and Cheryl Cole. I must admit I was very weak on the latter subject. I blame The Economist, which seems to pay that pivotal icon of our times ridiculously little regard. I should consider cancelling my subscription.

But I digress.

Jacquie and Hilary set about a concerted lobbying campaign on behalf of the schmaltz herring, in a flagrant attempt to influence the judging.

“Mmmm, the Schmaltz Herring is especially yummy this year, don’t you think?

…and…

The Bismark Herring is very good, but not like the Schmaltz

…and…

The Sweet Herring is not quite a subtle as last time, is it?

…and…

The Swedish you say, Melody? Do you really think so? Nice, but a little bland, no?

You get the picture. My bloody-mindedness gene, which easily comes to the fore in such circumstances (it’s family, I can talk about this openly) was straining to award the coveted prize to anything other than the Schmaltz Herring.

The problem was, though, that this year the Schmaltz Herring really was exceptional in my opinion too. The Swedish, a new entrant this time, perhaps by dint of the event taking place late in the year, was extremely, indeed unexpectedly good – a very well-rounded flavour of herring – but not quite as exceptional.

So, after explaining the rules to the uninitiated (delicacies such as chopped herring and herring in sour cream have lifetime achievement awards, as does Jacquie herself of course, but it is only the unadulterated herrings that get judged in competition) – the results:

  • Highly Commended: Swedish Herring – superb effort from a new entrant
  • International Herring Award: Schmaltz Herring – utterly exceptional this time
  • Winners: everyone who attended – it was a lovely evening, as always.

Many, many thanks, Jacquie.

Give it up one more time for the Schmaltz Herring…what little is left of it.

And finally, one more (weirdly-shaped) picture of the smörgåsbord, courtesy of Hils. Thanks Hils.

Dealing With Clair by Martin Crimp, Orange Tree Theatre, 24 November 2018

We thought this was a fabulous piece and production – once again a superb evening of theatre at the Orange Tree.

Here is a link to the Orange Tree on-line resource for this production.

We’ve been interested in Martin Crimp’s writing for years. Sometimes his plays are a bit too weird even for us, but they always make us think and are usually chock-full of suspense and creepiness.

Dealing With Clair is no exception. One of Crimp’s earlier works this, when he was writing exclusively for The Orange Tree, it is very loosely based on the Suzy Lamplugh tragedy, which occurred a short while before the writing of this play and not too far away from Richmond.

Yet, this play from 30 years ago seems very contemporary and relevant today in this production.

The whole cast was excellent.

Our hearts sank a little when we saw that the designer had gone for one of those “behind a screen” designs, which we tend not to like, but actually it worked extremely well for this production, not least because the screen is removed at a telling moment in the play.

By gosh the play is creepy. We were talking about it a lot, for ages, after the evening – which is usually a sign that a play/production has really affected us – which this one surely did.

There are plenty of review snippets on the above links to the Orange Tree, but click here for links to the full reviews – mostly very good ones which the production thoroughly deserves.

I keep saying it, but the Orange Tree is doing great work at the moment – I hope they keep it going.

One Starts in a Barber’s. One Starts in a Bar by Rohan Candappa, Preview, Gladstone Arms, 21 November 2018

One of the great things about being friends with someone like Rohan Candappa is that you get to see some of his creative pieces while they are works in progress.

Take, for example, the wonderful piece Rohan and Kat Kleve are taking to Edinburgh for the 2019 fringe festival; One Starts in a Barber’s. One Starts in a Bar. – click this link for the festival blurb on the show.

Back in the day…

…but not so far back that the term “back in the day” didn’t even exist…

…Rohan told me about a short performance piece he was working on, working title “The Last Man Cave”, which was about going to the barber’s. That idea would sound like complete rubbish coming from most people, but coming from Rohan, I guessed that he was onto something eentertaining.

Rohan also asked me to look at a short fragment of a female performance piece he had worked on with the actress Lydia Leonard, which he had given the working title “Pigeons” and had filmed:

I thought there was real merit in that fragment.

Rohan agreed and told me that he had expanded it into a complete but short work, working title: ‘And You Are?’, which he planned to have performed alongside his comedic barber’s piece.

This combination made no sense to me at all…

…until I went along to The Glad in November and saw Rohan and Kat Kleve perform a preview of the two-hander now known as One Starts in a Barber’s. One Starts in a Bar. Have I mentioned that Rohan and Kat are taking the piece to the 2019 Edinburgh Fringe Festival? – click this link for more details.

Don’t be put off by the title “Trailer long” in the above trailer – it’s 74 seconds long.

That’s not long.

My hair is long…

…but that’s because I have an aversion to going to the barbers – an aversion formed when I was very small – a story for another time. Rohan’s barbers and bars stories are far more interesting than mine.

You don’t have to take my word for it – you can go to Edinburgh and see the show – click here for more details.

Based on the preview I, together with a few other lucky people, saw at the Gladstone Arms in November, One Starts in a Barber’s. One Starts in a Bar. is a really good show. It’s funny, sad and thought-provoking in equal measure.

If you are doing Edinburgh in 2019, go see it.

Lands by Antler, Bush Studio, 17 November 2018

“We haven’t been to the theatre for ages”, said Daisy. In a way she was right.  A little over two months:

The Human Voice by Jean Cocteau, Gate Theatre, 14 September 2018

…ages in our terms. Mind you, I had been to see Casablanca The Musical a couple of weeks later…

A Visit To Halifax To See A Revival Of Casablanca The Musical & The Ward Family, 26 September 2018

…and anyway several weeks in Japan mid October to early November had plenty of drama in its own way.

We had booked Lands ages ago, based on the sparse but intriguing description on the Bush website. We didn’t look at the little promotional video about it, but there is one – see below:

We’ve been fans of the Bush for yonks and have become especially enamored with the Studio there, since it opened eighteen months or so ago.

This short play, Lands, is exactly the sort of thing we like to see at a place like the Bush Studio.

It is really quite a strange piece. One young woman is obsessively, slowly working her way through a massive jigsaw puzzle while the other jumps up and down on a trampoline throughout most of the play.

Much is left unexplained, but the pair might well be a couple; at the very least there are strong hints that they know each other well and have done so for a long while.

In one early coup-de-theatre, they perform a wonderful synchronized dance to Ain’t That Terrible by Roy Redmond…

…a great track btw, that Daisy and I both remember dancing to in the clubs way back when. It had both of us wracking our brains (unsuccessfully) in our attempts to identify the record.

Ellie at the Bush kindly put us out of our misery with the song title and artist, which helped us to avoid our own domestic the following Monday. Thanks Ellie – otherwise I might have obsessively blogged and Daisy might have obsessively pole-danced non-stop for a week. Not safe.

But I digress.

There were some very funny moments in the play – not least that dance – but also several very poignant scenes. While the play is, in many ways, an absurdist piece, there is enough realism in the scenario and the manner in which the drama pans out to be very affecting.

Both Leah Brotherhead and Sophie Steer perform their parts extremely well; the switches of mood – a couple of times turning on a proverbial sixpence, very deftly done.

In some ways the nub of the play is the domestic drama about the obsessions that seem to be pulling these people apart from each other, but in other ways it is about the causes of such obsessions. Towards the end of the play, the Leah character rants about all the things she doesn’t care about. But of course she must care about those things to some extent if she feels motivated to rant quite so viscerally about not caring. Perhaps Leah’s obsessions (or both women’s obsessions) are ways of shutting out the world because they cannot cope with caring about so much that is wrong.

In truth we weren’t expecting a piece quite as challenging as this one but we agreed that we were very glad to have experienced it once we got home and started chatting about it over our supper.

Just the sort of thing the Bush Studio should be putting on – great stuff. Here again is a link to the Bush resource on the production…

…while here is a link to reviews and stuff.

Klimt/Schiele and Oceania, Royal Academy, 16 November 2018

Janie booked us in to a late night Friday slot for the Klimt/Schiele exhibition ages ago – it seemed like a good idea for a show we wanted to see as soon after our return from Japan as possible.

The following little video explains the thinking behind the show.

What we had both forgotten, of course, is that the days of “late night Friday at the RA” being one of the best kept secrets in London are now over. Instead of it being an opportunity to see the exhibitions in a relatively relaxed and congestion-free atmosphere, late night Fridays are now “a thing” and the place is more crowded than at other times.

The RA Image Library for the show – click here – shows several of the highlights.

Before we went to Japan, I had spotted that the RA also had the Oceania exhibition on still in November and had made a mental note that it would be good to see that show on the same evening…

…but I didn’t make a pen or pencil note and had plain forgotten about it…

…until Janie, helpfully, sent me a message on the morning of our visit, suggesting that we get to the RA early enough to take in the Oceania exhibition ahead of the Klimt/Schiele.

Now that’s what I call a plan.

Here is a link to the RA Gallery on the Oceania exhibition, which shows pictures of several highlights.

In many ways I enjoyed the Oceania more than I enjoyed the Klimt/Schiele.  I have long been fascinated by people of the South Sea Islands, not least the Melanesian archipelago. That fascination dates back at least as far as 1974:

Ongka’s Big Moka, Television Documentary, 11 December 1974

Daisy became convinced, quite early in the visit, that I resemble some of the figures depicted in the Oceania exhibition and took several pictures in an attempt to prove it. Don’t see it, myself:

Probably the highlight for us was the panoramic, sort-of 3-D, sort of CGI film, In Pursuit of Venus – the still in the link cannot do justice to the clever effect of this filmscape.

Between Oceania and Klimt/Schiele we still had a bit of time and I was in need of a sit down after two hours on the tennis court this morning. We attempted to go to the members bar, but it was heaving with people – including my real tennis friend Bill Taylor and his entourage. Coincidentally, Bill, comfortably seated, was also still aching after two hours on the tennis court the day before.

We then tried the public bar, which was less crowded (yes there was seating) but Janie observed both servers coughing and sneezing. When they both admitted that they were poorly with flu, we thought best to forego refreshments on their patch. Ironic, given that, we learnt later at the Klimt/Schiele, that Egon Sciele and his wife both died tragically young, in 1918, of flu.

The Klimt/Schiele was a little disappointing in truth. You cannot really look at drawings easily when a gallery is that crowded – you’re almost better off looking at the best of them in the on-line gallery – click here.

Also, I think such work makes more sense when you can also see the major works that were inspired by or started their life as such drawings. This exhibition is all drawings which, especially in the case of Klimt’s work, does not make all that much sense in isolation.

Schiele’s work on paper is more complete/stark and thus makes more sense:

Here is a link that should pick up reviews and stuff for this particular Royal Academy Klimt /Schiele show – I emphasize because there was a Klimt/Schiele exhibition in New York over the summer but that was a completely different collection of work, apparently.

We had hoped to eat in The Senate Room after the Klimt/Schiele but had been misinformed about the availability of food in that space in the evening; so we had a quick drink there and returned home for some Chinese food which we took back to Noddyland.

In short, I think it was well worth a trip to the RA to see these two exhibitions on one day, but we’ll almost certainly be avoiding late night Fridays from now on.

Kosmos Ensemble, Lunchtime Concert, St John’s Smith Square, 15 November 2018

To some extent I was still basking in the glory of last night’s real tennis match, in which I had played a small but decisive part in the MCC’s recovery from near defeat to eventual victory against Middlesex University by three rubbers to two. In truth it was the incredibly exciting fourth rubber which turned the contest – our pair had some five match points against them in their rubber before turning it around. I played in the deciding fifth rubber.

The match isn’t up on the web yet (at the time of writing – I do hope it does go up eventually) – here’s one I featured in a few months ago – also a final rubber – see 6:30 to 7:20 on this vid.

But I digress.

The original plan for this SJSS lunchtime concert had been to go with John Random, but he had to pull out of this one. So I even considered missing out myself.

But when I re-read the SJSS stub about the concert…

…scraped to here if the SJSS link no longer makes sense…

…I decided that:

Wild Gypsy fiddling, Jewish and Greek music, and tango, alongside interpretations of Japanese, Polish and Sephardic songs…

…was just what I needed before going to the office on a Thursday afternoon. Not least because we have just returned from Japan, where we came across very little actual Japanese music…

…unless you consider eki-melo to be quintessential Japanese music:

But I digress again.

Anyway, I’m very glad I made the decision to go to SJSS that lunchtime and see the Kosmos Ensemble perform.

They are three very talented young musicians who met while studying at the Royal Academy of Music and formed this ensemble as a vehicle for their shared interest in world music.

Actually I don’t think we got any “Sephardic Songs” as promised, but we did instead get a Serbian lament and some Scandinavian music, plus even some Scottish and English themed music.

Some pieces worked better to my ears than others – one or two of the pieces inserted phrases from well-known works at a level of subtlety that might even make PDQ Bach blush.  I sense that all three of them are most at home with Eastern-European melodies and rhythms – but their virtuosity and curiosity help compensate for those elements of the programme that were not quite to my taste – I pretty much enjoyed the whole set.

For me the highlights were:

  • the Japanese-style piece Sakura (Cherry Blossom):
  • a version of Piazolla’s Libertango with a sort-of Klezmer cadenza at the end, which they have nicknamed “Liberklezmango”:

All three of the musicians: Harriet Mackenzie, Meg-Rosaleen Hamilton and Miloš Milivojević are clearly embarking on highly successful careers and I wish them well individually and as an ensemble.

Japan Reflections: I Need To Write About Toilets In Japan, 7 November 2018

I need to write about toilets in Japan.

My good friend Ian Theodoreson visited Japan earlier this year and referred to the toilets in his fascinating and amusing blog piece about his visit:

Blue apples and heated toilet seats

While in no way wanting to detract from Ian Theodoresen’s concise and important point about heated toilet seats, I feel bound to describe Japanese toilet technology in more detail.

Because every toilet seat Janie and I encountered was more than just heated; every toilet seat was, to a greater or lesser extent, smart.

The simplest, smart toilets had an array of coloured and lettered buttons, which we knew to be flushing and bidet functions of various sorts, enabling the user to  clean up after themselves in various ways.

In the absence of labelling which we could understand…and having both lived many decades each without such functions…we felt loathe to experiment with such buttons for a good while.

But once we got to Kyoto…

Japan Day Eight: Kyoto Tea Ceremony But Otherwise Unguided Day, 27 October 2018

we were blessed, at the Hyatt, with an especially smart loo, upon which the buttons were more elegantly labelled, with descriptive symbols leaving both of us in little or no doubt as to the function of each button.

Seriously smart loo – control panel rarely needs using.

Also, we had a bit more time in Kyoto than we’d had in other places, so we had the luxury of some additional experimentation time. Thus we both tried the various bidet buttons.

We both agreed that the sensations provided by the bidet functions were quite pleasurable, once we got over the over-riding senses of amusement and novelty.

We also both agreed that, in the functional matter of cleaning up after oneself, we suspected that such “automated bideting” was only of limited use – perhaps even lulling the user into a false sense of hygiene security.

In short – we were remaining old school in the matter of such personal hygiene for the time being.

Unexpectedly, it was when we got to the shukubo (pilgrim’s lodgings) at Ekoin in Koyasan…

Japan Day Ten: Journey To Koyasan And Cemetery Walk, 29 October 2018

…that our toilet got really smart. I think the idea of “luxury pilgrims lodgings” with en-suite facilities is quite new at Ekoin, so we had the very latest stuff. More utilitarian in look than the posh Hyatt loo, but seriously smart.

The control panel enabled you to do all manner of things – we barely touched the surface of those possibilities – but the smartness of this loo included a sensor that recognised that one of us was in the vicinity and lifted the loo seat up for us.

Once we were done, the sensors seemed to recognise what we had done, so it would short flush or long flush accordingly (manual over-ride was an option of course) once we had moved away from the loo – then it would sloosh around the bowl for a while, then it eventually would close the lid again.

In short, this loo seemed to know what we wanted to do…as well, if not better than we did ourselves.

Now, as many readers will know, I’m all in favour of augmented intelligence and artificial intelligence in theory…

…but in practice, we found this level of smartness emanating from the loo just a little creepy…

…until we got used to it.

As it happens, the posh places we stayed in after the monastery; the Ritz-Carlton in Osaka…

Japan Day Twelve: One Heck Of A Halloween Day In Osaka, 31 October 2018

…and especially the Amanemu in Shima…

Japan Days Thirteen To Seventeen: Five Blissful Days At The Amanemu, 1 to 5 November 2018

…also had these ultra-modern, ultra-smart loos and we are now both totally into it. We conversed with our loos, instructed them orally just in case they aren’t quite as smart as they like to think they are…

…and of course we thanked our loos for their comprehensive efforts. After all, courtesy costs nothing.

And comprehensive those efforts really can be; as Janie put it on one occasion:

I’ve just had a complete wash and blow dry on my bum.

I fear that we might have adjusted so comprehensively to our new loo environment, we’ll no doubt find it difficult to adjust back; remembering to do our own flushing and to lift/close the toilet seat for ourselves might prove tricky for us.

Predictably hilarious results might ensue unless Janie and I pay close attention to “sharpening our own smarts” again in the matter of toilet use on our return to the UK, where the loos are still so very 20th century.

Japan Days Eighteen To Nineteen: Return Home Via Tokyo, 6 to 7 November 2018

It was pouring with rain on the morning we left the Amanemu. I told several of the staff that we were crying and that the sky was crying because we were leaving. One Japanese member of staff said he found that thought, “so poetic”. Perhaps I have picked up a little of the Japanese culture along the way.

We went through some brighter spots on the rail journey back to Tokyo and hoped that the weather there might be better – the forecasts I had looked at suggested that the rain might stop in Tokyo mid-afternoon – but in fact it was bucketing down when we emerged at Asakusa, to such an extent that we got fairly drenched just walking the two to three minutes from the station to the Gate Hotel.

We resolved to go out if the weather improved and not to do so if it didn’t.

It didn’t.

The Gate restaurant was fairly heavily booked for the evening, with the big main room booked out for a function. But the maître-d took us, as residents, under his wing and said we could either eat at the bar straight away or wait until about 19:30 at which point he was sure he could have a nice table for us. He even arranged for us to be called in our room once the table came free.

The food at The Gate is western style but clearly a fashionable place for Japanese people to try western food. Wouldn’t have been my first choice but certainly preferable to the risk of that drowned rat feeling just before you fly. Also a fashionable place because the skyline views are so good…when it isn’t pouring with rain…the above pictures look interesting in the wet but hardly show the skyline.

Come the morning, the weather was much improved and I was able to take some good pictures of the skyline from the terrace.

Then we were chauffeured to the airport for a pretty event-free journey home.

I’ll let the photos tell most of the tale of the ANA flight, but here are the details of our last multi-course Japanese meal of this holiday.

Amuse:

Cheese stick brown pepper flavour;
Fois gras mousse with apricot gelee;
Pickled small red pimento with cheese in herb oil

Sashimi:

Konfu kelp-cured alfonsino

Poached big-fin reef squid

Konfu kelp-cured red sea bream

Kobachi (Tasty titbits):

Marinated snow crab, mushrooms and garland chrysanthemum

Shabu-shabu bolied beef and grilled eggplant in seseame cream

 

Main course: Grilled barracuda rolled with Daikoku Hon Shimaji mushroom

 

Steamed rice, miso soup, and Japanese pickles

 

Deserts, Cheese, Fruits

 

Please note that Janie had learnt from “Mr Two-Portions” from the outbound flight…

Japan Day Zero: Journey To Tokyo And Our First Evening There, 18 to 19 October 2018

…nursing several glasses of alcoholic beverage at the same time throughout the main meal…

A bit of product placement here for my friend Rohan Candappa – a great book btw

…Daisy even doubled up on deserts and chocolates…

No wonder Daisy slept for much of the remainder of the flight – not that the sleep seemed to prevent her from getting jet lag far worse than mine for several days after our return. Oh well.