Of late, I have been immersing myself in writing up the journal and some impression pieces about my visit to Mauritius, which was 40 years ago exactly. Devotees of Ogblog (i.e.subscribers) might well be aware of this; others not so.
Ahead of his latest visit, John Random e-mailed to say several things, including this about one of those journal pieces:
A Jew Hunt in Port Louis reminds me of something not very interesting I must tell you about next Thursday.
I had felt quite frustrated about the above piece since I realised that my mother had not only thrown away my article about the resulting great story I discovered once I hunted down the mystery man in Port Louis, but that she had also thrown away my journal notes for 10 and 11 August 1979, as part of the same inadvertently vandalistic act, in the name of “clearing out rubbish”.
Putting that to one side, John and I had a pleasant lunch and did some more fiddling around with his archive of writings. Less progress this session than the previous session, but the previous session had yielded plenty of unexpectedly retrievable data from his old collection. Actually even this day’s session seems to have yielded more than I thought it would.
Then I raised the matter of John’s “Jew Hunt anecdote”.
Oh, it’s nothing really. It’s just that, 20 or so years ago, Jenny and I went to a Mauritian community event in South-East London. There was a bookstall at that event, where I looked at a book called The Mauritian Shekel. It looked really interesting but in the end I didn’t buy it. Your headline, “A Jew Hunt In Port Louis” reminded me of that book.
I nearly left it at that, but my curiosity had been sparked, so I asked John if he remembered what the book was about.
It was a fascinating true story from the time of the Second World War, about a large ship full of Jewish refugees from Central Europe, who had been turned away in Palestine and who were eventually given refuge on Mauritius…
“Hold on!”, I yelled. “THAT’s the story the mystery Jewish man told me in Port Louis. THAT’s the very story I’m desperately trying to recall. The Mauritian Shekel, did you say?”…
…it might not have been cheap, but it was available as a rare second hand book on Amazon:
So the book is on its way and I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to reconstruct my missing article/story from it.
At about 17:00, John went off in the direction of the Proms while I went off in the direction of Lord’s. I bagsyed some seats for me and Jez Horne in the Warner Stand, then went for a quick meeting with Katie Berry for a briefing on participation cricket in Middlesex.
Jez messaged me to say he thought he was a little delayed but should only miss an over or so. In the end, he arrived just in time for the start of the match.
It was good to catch up with Jez again. I hope we can catch up again when Janie and I are in Hove and he also intends to join the Z/Yen party at the Hampshire game in a couple of week’s time.
This Middlesex v Surrey match always has some real frisson to it, though, being a local derby. More often than not we Middlesex fans end up disappointed at this fixture, but of late Middlesex have been doing better and tonight demonstrated that improvement.
AB deVilliers and Eoin Morgan were scintillating with the bat; Steve Finn magnificent with the ball.
Unusually this year, the first Lord’s County Championship match of the season didn’t work out for me and Charles “Charley the Gent Malloy” Bartlett to have our traditional early season meet, but this second match did, so we arranged to spend Day Two of the match together.
A Cunning Plan: Tuesday 14 May 2019
Actually I was able to attend for the latter part of the first day. My cunning plan was to get my work out of the way, drive over to St John’s Wood Road around 15:00 – it is almost always possible to find a Ringo parking place at that hour, drop off my tennis kit ahead of tomorrow, get some reading done and watch some cricket in the sunshine.
The cunning plan worked.
I briefly popped in to the pavilion and chatted for a brief while with Colin, before going in search of some warmth in the spring sunshine of the Mound Stand.
Barmy Kev joined me briefly in the Mound Stand that afternoon before going off to speak with more important folk than me:
Borrowed from Barmy Kev’s Facebook posting – Click the picture to see that posting.
As I left Lord’s that evening, I ran into John Lee from the Leicestershire committee, who was on his way to try to find his hotel on Sussex Gardens, so I was able to give him a lift there and have a chat along the way.
A Great Day Although The Picnic Partially Went Pear-Shaped: Wednesday 15 May 2019
I rose early to prepare the picnic and set off for Lord’s soon after 8:00 in order to play tennis at 9:00. I used the rucksack that DJ kindly gave me last year, as that is an ample size for a picnic for two…
…except that I didn’t think about relative softness and hardness of items in the various compartments and planted a bag containing Chas’s pears (Green Williams) towards the bottom of the rucksack.
Other Species Of Pears And Bagels From A Previous Visit To Lord’s
Charley’s fussiness about his pears is a matter of some legend and a yet unpublished piece that should appear on King Cricket at some point in the next few years.
Infuriatingly, I had procured and ripened the bag of pears to perfection for this visit, but they got badly bruised in the rucksack. Message to self: put pears in a protective fruit box next time.
Chas threatened to go public about my pear preparation going pear-shaped, but I decided that the best way to prevent the risk of blackmail was to come clean myself. Now Chas will have to decide how to deal with the other side of the “mutually assured destruction” information unholy bargain we had with each other. It could get as messy as that bag of bruised pears.
Anyway, I played quite a good game of tennis (won) and spotted, as soon as I got off court, that Chas had messaged me to say that he was in the vicinity ridiculously early. I suggested that he make haste to the gate where I could get him into the ground with his voucher before I showered and changed. This ploy worked well.
In the morning, we braved the traditional back/backside ache of the pavilion benches. John Freer from the visiting Leicestershire group spotted us on those benches and came out for a pleasant chat. Peter Moore also chatted with us for a while. Chas and I didn’t get around to the picnic (apart from nibbling some cashews) until we got around to the Mound Stand in the afternoon.
Apart from the pear debacle, the picnic was a great success. Poppy-seed bagels with Alaskan smoked salmon, Prosciutto and Parmesan cheese sandwiches on sourdough, a fruity Riesling and several sweet treats – the latter arranged by Chas.
There were some large school groups sitting quite close to us – very well behaved but autograph hunting like crazy – especially from Nick Gubbins who was fielding down our way and patiently worked his way through a long queue.
At one point in the afternoon Dawid Malan (out injured) wandered around the outfield and stopped to chat with us briefly. Some of the junior autograph hunters asked him who he was and/but seemed minimally impressed that he was the Captain of the team. Only some sought his autograph; still Dawid handled the matter with great dignity and willingness to please the junior crowd.
As always, the day just flew by and it seemed like a blink of an eye after meeting that Chas and I were parting company again.
I watched tennis for a few minutes to let the crowd and traffic die down before Ubering home.
A Random Ramble Around Lord’s: Thursday 16 May 2019
When arranging that visit, I mentioned in passing that Middlesex were playing at Lord’s that day and that I could show John around the place properly if he was interested. His previous visit had been to watch tennis only:
Anyway, John said he would really enjoy that, so after the concert we legged it to Lord’s, where John reckoned he could spare 90 minutes to two hours before heading back to do some work.
I gave John an informal tour of the pavilion, which I think he really enjoyed, stopping most of the way through the tour to take some refreshment and watch some cricket on the sun deck, at Janie’s favourite spot under one of the turrets.
While chomping and drinking coffee there, John informed me that, although he had no pedigree in cricket whatsoever, his grandfather, Hector Ireland, had been a leading light in Widnes Cricket Club in days of yore, to such an extent that a bar in the club is named the Hector Ireland Room:
I explained to John that, while I like to pretend that the Harris Garden at Lord’s is named after my grandfather, the truth of the matter is that I have no cricket in my ancestry at all, so I felt that John’s so-called remote cricketing pedigree was trumping mine big time.
We completed our informal tour in time for John to get away in a timely fashion, I hope.
After saying goodbye to John, I then returned to the pavilion to join the Leicestershire visitors in the Committee Room. John and Penny Freer were in there, as was John Lee and also new Chairman Roy Bent, together with a smattering of Middlesex hosting folk.
Postscript To John Random’s VISIT To LORD’S
In August 2021 John visited Widnes CC and reported the event to me with the following charming words and photographs:
…I finally managed my pilgrimage to the Hector Ireland Lounge of the Widnes Cricket Club, Hector Ireland being – as I think you know – my grandfather; as opposed to the one [George Corke] who had a honeymoon in London and Paris. That was a generation earlier. I was so proud and happy to see his name memorialized on the plaques and his photo still above the bar. I was shown such a warm welcome by men who knew him even though he died fully fifty years ago. I even watched some cricket.
The Match Was Poised, But…: Friday 17 May 2019
I returned to Lord’s again early that morning; a long-planned appointment with the tennis court. In fact, I ended up being press-ganged into playing two hours, from 9:00 to 11:00, which is a bit of a mad idea for playing singles at my age, but there you go.
John Lee had threatened to come and watch me play real tennis for a while before the cricket started and saw through that threat. Afterwards, he reported that he had been baffled by the tennis at first, then after a while decided that he understood it, then after a few more minutes realised that he hadn’t understood it.
Meanwhile, I played quite well that morning and then, after changing, joined the small remaining group in the Committee Room for the rest of the morning session. A few overs had been lost to bad light but the forecast was hopeful for the rest of the day.
Nevertheless, I realised that I needed to get some work out of the way to relieve the pressure from the first half of next week, so went home at lunch, resolving to return for the lasts session of the match.
Sadly, the drizzle started as I arrived back at Lord’s around 16:00 and that last session was much curtailed, turning an interestingly poised match into a draw. David Morgan joined us for a while during that stop-start session.
It was probably Leicestershire who had the most reason to feel aggrieved by the rain, although a couple of quick wickets would have turned the match back Middlesex’s way. Infuriating that a poised match ends that way, but that’s cricket.
It was nevertheless very enjoyable company with which to pass the time at the end a few days of cricket intermingled with work and other activities.
When I say, “funny people” in this context, I mean comedy people, not necessarily strange people. Some of them might also be strange of course, but I’ll leave that judgement to the reader.
Funny-comedic, not necessarily funny-strange: Rohan Candappa
First up, for lunch on Tuesday 5 March, was Rohan Candappa. He wanted to try a Malaysian & Indonesian restaurant, Melur, on the Edgware Road. As I had requested that we meet somewhere over my side, as I needed to be at Lord’s for a game of tennis afterwards, that seemed a reasonable choice to me.
The weather forecast suggested heavy rain around the time I’d be finishing at Lord’s, so I took my car to Aberdeen Place and parked there ahead of lunch.
The food at Melur was excellent. I was restrained in my choices given the tennis bout ahead, going for an inoffensive Nasi Goreng. Rohan went for a more spicy version and for some roti canai, which I tasted and reckon was a pretty darned good roti. I shall forever more associate that dish with Rohan, so much so that I’ll think of it as…Rohan Kanhai. Coincidentally, I shall similarly forever be reminded of that Guyanese cricketer when I recall Rohan Candappa’s visit to Lord’s with me, last year:
I’m thinking of naming my novel genre “Mock Tudor Rock”
Rohan, who plans to manage my band, made several branding suggestions – I responded to those thoughts subsequently as follows:
The Wessex Petards might work better as a band name the The Wessex Pistols and I still feel that Sir Michael Smear is a more visceral nom de punk than Sir John Rancid. But I cannot better your album name – Never Mind The Bailiwicks – it ought to go gold or platinum on the name alone, before we release so much as a tiny sound sample…in fact it had better go gold or platinum before we release so much as a tiny sound sample.
I very much hope my thoughts were helpful and that Rohan can find a way to make the Threadmash idea work for all concerned.
I had allowed loads of time between lunch and tennis, so brought plenty of reading matter with me which I enjoyed reading over a couple of excellent cups of coffee at Café Laville, overlooking the canal in sunshine.
Then on to Lord’s in order to be taught a lesson by one of my favourite real tennis opponents who has recovered from injury since I last played him and seemed keen to let me see how well he can now move around the court. A surprisingly close match in the circumstances – I thought I did well to get close.
On Thursday 7 March I had a music lesson with Ian Pittaway, who passed expert judgement on my Mock Tudor Rock…
Place the rascal in the stocks at once!
…while helping me with some other silly ideas (watch this space) and sensible techniques (don’t hold your breath).
Then a visit from John Random for a bite of lunch and the second of two sessions of NewsRevue archiving. The first session was 25 January. John has a large collection of NewsRevue programmes, flyers and reviews, which simply needed to be digitised.
We succeeded in scanning it all in two sessions, despite lots of chat, listening to some music and cricket-match like breaks for lunch/tea.
Following some cheerful chat about murder rates around the world, which identified Mexico and especially Tijuana as a hot spot, we both agreed that Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass must have a lot to answer for. So we listened to a fair smattering of Herb. John was especially taken with his version of the Third Man theme…
…and his version of A Walk In The Black Forest:
We decided that this type of music is, in many ways, the soundtrack of our childhood. Of course we like to remember the cool stuff from the 1960’s and no doubt have listened to far more of the cool stuff in later life, but when we were kids this was the music that was being played on the radios and gramophone players most of the time in our homes and the homes we visited.
We also of course chatted about NewsRevue casts, shows and material gone by. We discussed one of my own classics from more than 25 years ago, Mad Frogs And Englishmen, which I realised I hadn’t yet Ogblogged. I have put that right now:
Job done in terms of the archiving, it was time for us to set off for one of our regular Ivan Shakespeare Memorial gatherings – at which NewsRevue writers from years gone by gather to eat, chat, laugh and informally quiz.
It was International Women’s Day today, so we found ourselves an all male gathering this time. In addition to me and John: Gerry Goddin, Mark Keagan, Barry Grossman, Colin Stutt and a rare but much appreciated visit from NewsRevue founder and “father of the house” Mike Hodd.
The venue was the Spaghetti House in Holborn this time; a good notch up in service and food quality from Cafe Rogues in my view. My first time there but not the group’s first time.
For many years John Random has talked about his vicarious support for a football team by the name of Blyth Spartans. His home town, Hartlepool, is John’s real team but he has carried a torch for this other team for decades.
John excitedly reported that he finally got to visit Blyth Spartans and saw an exciting match there just the other week. I believe it was this match. I feel that this momentous event needs recording for posterity, as does an image of John wearing his new Blyth Spartans titfer.
John reported on the event as follows:
I would like to say a big thank you to all those of you who came out to the Spaghetti House on Thursday night. Thanks also to Mike, Colin and Gerry for their entertaining quizzes. Falling as it did, almost on International Women’s Day I regret to report that NewsRevue has still not come clean on its gender pay gap. We haven’t even had any jokes about it, yet – though I have a feeling, we will – and soon.
As I said earlier, it had been a funny week.
Funny ha-ha, not funny peculiar.
Well, maybe funny ha-ha AND funny peculiar. Good times with good friends.
I have no idea why people think I would be a useful member of a quiz team. Perhaps it is because I am so intelligent and witty and knowledgeable about the topics I am willing to discuss.
It doesn’t seem to occur to people that top notch quizzers aren’t very much like me at all – or rather the selection of topics that top notch quizzers are knowledgeable about don’t overlap much with my topics of interest.
Anyway, every so often I get asked…
…once…
…but on the occasions I have said yes, I cannot recall ever being asked back…
…and very often I say no. In fact, unless the event or companionship pleases me, I say no.
Anyway, my point is, I was keen to meet up with this charming crowd as long as Jasmine recognised that I am not the quizzer she might have been hoping for. So when she asked me to join her MoneyMagpie team, I replied:
How could I possibly say no to that? But surely we have better general knowledge quizzers than me in our orbit? Still, it would be lovely to join you and your team if I’m as good as it gets.
In fact, I arrived in Soho a little early, so took a stroll down Chinatown memory lane at New Year time for a few minutes before entering De Hems.
It was great to see Brian Jordan again after all these years and it is always a treat to spend time with John and Jasmine. Also on our team were Susan and Annie, who were also delightful company, as was Annie’s son (who works for Marcus) and Tony Elliott who was our Marcus host on our table.
As usual, nothing that I really know about came up. No theatre, no early music, no sixties and seventies popular music, no cricket, no real tennis…
…what’s the matter with these quizzes?
On the few occasions I could answer a question with authority, at least one other person if not several others on the team knew the answer.
So I opted for the role of team cheerleader, to try and maintain the concentration and positive energy of my teammates. I also acted as the runner to take our answer sheets in – a role I tried to perform with as much gusto as my aching body could muster.
In the former matter, I (and indeed the team) was only moderately successful – we came fourth out of seven teams.
Somewhere on my bookshelves is a so-called humorous book from the 1980s called The Mackeson Book Of Averages – which was an alternative, stout antidote to the Guinness Book Of World Records. It is a very ordinary book. But if there is ever an update to the Mackeson Book Of Averages, perhaps The MonyMagpies team result in this pub quiz should be recorded in that book. That would enable me, Brian, Jasmine and John to add to our stupendous Guinness World Record via NewsRevue, plus my other Guinness World Record via Goodenough College.
But I digress.
In the matter of my role as team runner, I was awarded an MVP award (MVP normally means most valuable player, but in my case it was presumably most volatile player) – in the form of a bottle of Prosecco, which I proudly displayed in my trophy cabinet for about 2 minutes (long enough to photograph it):
…before handing it over to Janie for a more suitable purpose (drinking).
I think that Janie thinks that I won the bottle of bubbly for quizzing, so please, readers, do not disabuse her of that belief.
…and of course Rohan is the author of The Little Book Of Stress. I think Janie’s waiting area needs copies of both of those books…
…while the surgery itself is of course, in book terms, dedicated to The Price Of Fish.
On that final subject, I did a very clever deal with Tony Elliott of Goldman Sachs, who offered to buy a copy of The Price Of Fish if I, in turn, shovelled thousands of poundsworth of savings towards Marcus by Goldman Sachs. Good deal makers, these Goldman Sachs people – who knew?
Anyway, I shall not be using “mother’s maiden name?” as one of my security questions.
In short, the food, the wine, the company and the event were all top notch and most enjoyable. Our team’s quizzing though? Very average.
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:
28 September 2018 – Dinner With Deni, Tony, John & Kathleen
Early evening was my last game of real tennis at The Queen’s Club in my capacity as an MCC refugee:
Photo of me at Queens (from a different day) with opponents cut/airbrushed out
A fierce battle, it was, with a gentleman way above my pay grade, but through the wonders of the handicapping system we had a close fought match, which ended as a draw.
I thought 20 minutes would be more than enough time to get a couple of miles down the road to Deni & Tony’s house, but I hadn’t counted on the Friday night traffic combining with an accident nearby.
Yet, I arrived at the same time as Daisy, coming from the opposite direction and we really weren’t that late.
Plenty of time for drinks and nibbles before dinner.
Deni had gone to town in the kitchen, with a gazpacho soup and a salmon dish as the main. Desert was their favourite; profiteroles – it happens to be one of Daisy’s favourites too.
Tucking in good and proper
Lots of lively discussion too, trying to put the world to rights. John’s moderate views were somewhat tempered by his opinion that the only feasible route back to sensible, moderate politics might be barricades and politicians up against the wall and shot.
Everyone was on good form despite it being Friday evening and we were all surprised when the Cinderella hour struck and we said our goodbyes.
2 October 2018 Jamming Session & Dinner With DJ
Coincidentally I played real tennis (now back at Lord’s) before my next evening out; a jamming session with DJ at DJ’s place.
As I had all my tennis gear in tow as well, I decided to forego the electric instrument (which had sort-of been the plan), taking my baroq-ulele instead.
Electric-ulele – not selected for this match in the end
We tried amplifying the baroq-ulele for a while, which sounded rather interesting actually. We also mucked around with the strange assortment of songs I’ve been working on; then mucked around with a few of our favourites.
We still cannot decide which of us is ground control and which of us is Major Tom. It shouldn’t be that complicated, but it certainly is.
As always, we had a good chat and ate some good food too. An interesting bottle of Croatian red wine too – that worked wonders on my vocal chords.
4 October 2018 – Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinner
It’s been a while since we had an Ivan Shakespeare dinner – this one had been rescheduled more often than a routine visit by a British Gas engineer. But at least an Ivan Shakespeare dinner is pleasant and worth the effort.
Actually not much effort for me. Jasmine had suggested we try Bill’s in Kensington, which, frankly, is a hugely convenient option for at least two of us; me and Jasmine. In truth, many of us are starting to find Cafe Rogues tedious, in terms of the food (ordinary), the service (poor) and the tedious, Byzantine rules for Christmas gatherings.
A great turnout this time, a dozen of us, including some new-old faces, such as Emma, Nelson, Neil and Sam. Plus many of the usual suspects. I mostly got to chat with Jonny Hurst, Barry Grossman, Mark Keagan and Nelson at my end of the table.
What, no quiz?
For sure the food and service was better at Bill’s. The traditional “food half an hour later than everyone else’s” game for baiting Jonny Hurst is clearly just a Cafe Rouge Holborn thing; not a standard entertainment in all restaurants. Who knew?
John Random made an executive decision that the traditional quiz would not quite work with the ambiance – we were in a very central table position.
We are all keenly awaiting Graham Robertson’s “would I lie to you?” game, but we’re starting to think that he has sold our stories for megabucks to television syndicates in the Stans and has now fled the country with his ill-gotten gains. We don’t care, we’re having a great time at these dinners without Graham and his game anyway.
Seriously, I always enjoy these gatherings and others must also do so because so many of us have been coming back for more, several times a year, since not long after the turn of the century.
The idea of seeing this concert was partly hatched from John Random’s desire to see some lunchtime early music with me. A couple of suitable Thursday dates were either no good for him or no good for me. But this Friday one, during the London Baroque Festival, looked bang on.
The timing was good too, as Janie had arranged to tour the new extension of the Royal Academy at 15:00 that afternoon. Janie very much liked the look of Les Kapsber’girls lunchtime programme.
As John’s availability is subject to the whims of showbiz administrators, the unreserved seating at SJSS makes it a suitable concert venue for an aproximeeting. I bought tickets for me and Janie, knowing that John would be able to get one on the day if he proved to be available.
The e-mails buzzed over the coming days. There was to be a costume fitting for John, so our gathering was off. The costume fitting had been cancelled – John was on again. The fitting was reinstated – off again.
At that juncture I tried to guilt-trip John…with my tongue rather firmly in my cheek, I might add:
John, John, John…
…I can’t handle all four of those Kapsber’girls on my own. And I’m not so keen on your two. No, no, no, two ladies is plenty:
…so I identified the instruments to John while we were waiting for the concert to start…
…but I got more instruments wrong than right. The big thing I thought was a theorbo turned out to be an archlute; the smaller thing I thought was the archlute was actually a tiorbino (a miniature theorbo), the existence of which only became known to me on the day; the small viol I took to be a treble viol was the even smaller pardessus de viole – a soprano viol which, again, was a new instrument to me on the day. Top mansplaining on my part – waxing lyrical while getting most of the facts wrong – I must have sounded like Alan Partridge to an expert observer.
The concert was absolutely charming – as were all four of the Kapsber’girls. They are very young and relatively new to performance at this level; not all of them displayed professionally-grooved stage presence throughout the hour, especially when sitting out the odd piece. But they all four play or sing beautifully and are surely all on the road to success.
The music was early 18th century French popular songs, known as “airs de cour” or “brunettes”. Two voices and two instruments. These songs were published in the early years of the 18th century by Christophe Ballard and were phenomenally popular in France during that latter part of Louis XIV’s reign.
Here is a little vid of “our girls” performing one or two of the songs we heard:
…and if all that leaves you in the mood to hear some actual Kapsberger (and believe me it’s worth it) here are Les ‘Girls playing and singing some actual Kapsberger:
Of course we didn’t hear any actual Kapsberger in our concert; the focus was entirely on the French airs de cour.
Janie snapped this during the final, lengthy applause
John, true to his word, made an approach to one of the girls after the concert – probably to try to understand the difference between the theorbo, the archlute, the chitarrone…that might have been a long, complicated conversation. Anyway, Albane Imps kindly chatted with and then posed with John:
Is that a tiorbino in your pocket, John, or are you just pleased to see me?
We took a snack lunch in the crypt after the concert (Janie’s favourite place at SJSS) where we met a couple of Kapsber’girls again – Axelle Verner chatted with us charmingly for a while – before the girls headed off, returning to France that very day.
The girls were very self-conscious about the quality of their spoken English, although John’s assessment (and he does teach English as a foreign language) is that their spoken English is actually very good. John remarked that the French accent is a very forgiving accent for spoken English – especially when the words are delivered by charming young people! So snap out of it girls – your English is just fine.
John seemed a little star-struck, so we conducted a filmic thought-experiment in which John might make a brief-encounter-like dash to St Pancras for a touching farewell scene with Les ‘Girls, but sadly John decided against.
Not all that many people composed baroque music for eight voices and two instruments, but let’s try naming my thought experiment combination of The Gesualdo Six and The Kapsber’girls “The Zieleński Ten“.
John was clearly inspired by the “baroque girl power” he had seen, so he parted company with us in search of Millicent Fawcett’s statue, at Parliament Square, while Janie and I went on to our appointment with the new extension of the Royal Academy.
In fact it isn’t really a new extension – it is the old Burlington Gardens building behind the main building, which has been conjoined with the main building to bring the whole of the Royal Academy together. This project has been donkey’s yonks in the making and Janie was very excited, as a member, to be allowed a sneak-preview before the doors opened to the public that weekend. Here is a link to a page and vid that explains it all.
Before wandering around and poking our noses into all the new bits of the Academy, we took a quick look at the first exhibition in the new space – Tacita Dean, Landscape – click here for the RA resource on that exhibition. Not especially to our taste, in truth – we were there for the opening more than for this exhibition – but I did like several of the works that fused photographs with spray-on chalk and gouache. One or two of the larger ones were truly stunning and also, strangely, the technique worked well in miniature on postcards.
Then we wandered around the Burlington Gardens extension.
Tim Marlow himself was there, available to chat with the members. We didn’t chat directly with him, but we did chat with several members of staff who were visibly excited about the whole thing. Extra exhibition space, workshop space, studio space and a soon-to-be completed lecture hall with all the modern gadgetry:
Ged is desperate to deliver the first lecture in this place…
…”this beautiful Burlington Gardens building dates from 1831…”
We then retired back to the City quarters for siesta before grabbing some Persian food and retreating to Noddyland for the weekend. We’d had a super cultural day.
No matter – perhaps we had been over-ambitious trying to do everything in one day, so Plan B was to meet for lunch 4 May and then go to the National Gallery.
John suggested Gaby’s on Charing Cross Road – a real blast from the past – I hadn’t been in there for donkey’s years. John had ful medames, but I didn’t want to risk jet-propelling myself around the National Gallery, so I went traditional with a salt beef sandwich and pickle. Substantial – but I had worked up an appetite playing an intense hour of real tennis that morning.
Then on to the National Gallery. John had planned five pieces with interesting/quirky stories to show me – then we would wander freestyle.
As a curious aside to the Duke Of Wellington story, John Random and I tried (and failed to remember the name of the famous QC who defended Kempton Bunton; it was of course Jeremy Hutchinson. That made me wonder whether Hutchinson had ever worked with my friend Robin Simpson, one of the senior gentlemen with whom I sometimes play doubles at real tennis. It turns out that both Jeremy and Robin were involved with the defence of the Fanny Hill obscenity prosecution, see pp192-196 of the attached thesis, as was Richard Du Cann. (Makes mental note to Ogblog the crazy day in the mid-to-late 1980s when I ended up dashing to the Old Bailey to brief Richard Du Cann ahead of a fraud trial, the facts of which had taken an unexpected, last-minute turn.)
Diego Velázquez, 1599 – 1660 The Toilet of Venus (‘The Rokeby Venus’) 1647-51 Oil on canvas, 122.5 x 177 cm Presented by The Art Fund, 1906 NG2057 https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/NG2057
The Fifth Random Tour Item – The Non-Existent Man With Theorbo
This fifth item was due to be the highlight and indeed was probably the initiating idea for the entire visit. John and I had been talking about my interest in early music and early music instruments. Then John wrote to me, mentioning that he had seen some interesting paintings in the National Gallery, depicting people with those instruments.
Unfortunately, fragments of John’s memories of the conversation and the paintings themselves apparently got mixed up, but John promised me that he would show me a painting entitled “Man With Theorbo”. This was a very exciting prospect for me indeed; a veritable highlight was in store for me.
Or was it?
When we got to the appropriate room, John showed me the following painting
Hendrick ter Brugghen, 1588 – 1629 A Man playing a Lute 1624 Oil on canvas, 100.5 x 78.7 cm Bought, 1963 NG6347 https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/NG6347
I explained to John that the instrument depicted was a lute, not a theorbo. I showed John a picture of a theorbo.
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 Licence – with thanks – http://collection.sciencemuseum.org.uk/objects/co5900/theorbo
Even John had to agree that these were different instruments. I politely pointed out that the painting John showed me is actually named “A Man Playing A Lute“…no mention of a theorbo.
We looked around that room, in vain, wondering whether there was also a picture of man with theorbo, but eventually John admitted that he must have been mistaken.
I decided to put my foot down at this juncture. After all, a promise is a promise. And my previous visits to the National Gallery took place when I was a small child, so I knew how to behave there.
“I’m not leaving the National Gallery until I have seen the man with theorbo,” I declared.
If John had thought about it clearly, he could have rapidly released me from this fixation by offering to buy me an ice cream outside or something. But instead, John seemed to resign himself to a long – perhaps eternal – trawl through the National Gallery in the vain hope that the non-existent grand master, Man With Theorbo, might miraculously emerge – perhaps through the power of magical thinking.
So we wandered on, through the Rembrandt Rooms and the Rubens Rooms, which felt very much like home turf to me from visits with dad in days of yore. A large party of schoolkids were having Belshazzar’s Feast explained to them by a teacher. John asked me if I could read and translate the writing on the wall. I demurred, loosely translating it as “you’ve had it, pal” – not bad for a rank amateur.
Then, quite by chance, we happened upon Room 16, where John spotted A Woman Singing And A Man With A Cittern. John then remembered that he had intended to show me this room and that particular picture too, as we had, on that musical instrument discussion occasion, explored briefly the distinction between the mandolin-like cittern and the guitar-like gittern.
No! Don’t look at the main subject – look at the little fella on the stairs
“Oh look”, I said, “the little fella on the stairs is carrying an instrument that looks very much like a theorbo…”
“Thank heavens for that”, said John, “can we go now?”
“…but on the other hand, that might be an archlute, not a theorbo,” I said, “it’s hard to judge the scale of the thing at that size and distance.”
“Do you fancy a cup of coffee and a piece of cake,” said John, at this juncture realising that a few well chosen words might help him finally escape from his theorbo debacle.
“Great idea”, I said, so off we went in search of a decent caff.
In Trafalgar Square, I wanted to take a proper look at the new fourth plinth item: The Invisible Enemy Should Not Exist by Michael Rakowitz:
Attempts to get John Random (aka John Burns) to see some real tennis at Lord’s had not gone particularly well, previously, with John being called up to appear in a meerkat advert last time he was due to come see.
So when John called on the afternoon before our arrangement for 6 April, because he had a last minute call to be a 1940’s MP, we both thought the worst.
But in the end, as the call turned out to be 15:00, we still had time 6 April for John to see me play. As it happens, the contest turned out to form part of an unusual type of hat-trick. This was the second of three singles matches in a row in which my opponent had a double-barrelled name. Such names are not exactly rare amongst players of real tennis at Lord’s – but three in a row must be quite a rarity. In any case, I played well (by my own modest standards)…
Hopefully I have come on a bit in the 18 months since this photo was taken
…then John and I took some lunch at Mazi in Notting Hill Gate before he went off to be an historic MP.
I’d forgotten how good a place Mazi is – and so convenient for a local lunch. So when Stephen “Stentor Baritone” Barry got in touch on the following Monday with the good news that the Lord’s tickets we thought had got lost in the post had in fact been returned to him, I suggested we meet at Mazi for a quick bite on the Tuesday to avoid further possible postal misery. A very enjoyable lunch and a good chance to catch up, as we hadn’t seen each other for some months.
The Lord’s tickets in question are for Charles “Charley The Gent Malloy” Bartlett and Nigel “Father Barry White” Hinks, who shall be joining me and Daisy (Janie) on the Saturday of the test match.
But Charley and I had/have some cricket to see in advance of that test match – not least and first up, the opening day of the season at Lord’s – now a traditional meet. I produced a picnic in my traditional stylee. Smoked salmon bagels, Iberico ham muffins and a fine Riesling (Alsatian on this occasion) forming the core.
Gawd it was cold at times that day. But we suffered for our love of cricket and sat it out at the front of the pavilion.
The MCC have been granted permission to use floodlights for the County Championship matches this year, which is a real coup and/but frankly overdue. I understand why local folk didn’t want untrammelled use of floodlights at Lord’s in the evenings, but they cause no disturbance during the day.
We’d probably have had no play at all without the lights and indeed, because it was so gloomy, only got a limited amount of play – about half the day’s play – even with the lights.
Middlesex had of course been inserted by Northants and I thought did well to battle it to 136/4 by the time stumps were drawn.
No shame there, though. John Random had been similarly “stitched up like a kipper” by it. Indeed it seems to have fooled most people.
I dare Ogblog readers who missed the posting over Easter to click through, watch the little vid and work out what was going on.
But enough of Lauds and back to Lord’s…
…play ended a little early and the day ended all too quickly, as always. I shall be joining Charley at Chelmsford next Friday, with the weather forecast suggesting a more pleasant climate for cricket than that gloomy opening day. But it had been worth it for the splendid company and the cricket, of course.
John Random sits on the “Sounding Board” for the Old Royal Naval College. I’m not entirely sure what that means…
…I’m not sure John is entirely sure…
…but one thing it does mean at the moment is that John has the right occasionally to take a guest to tour the Painted Hall Ceiling.
This really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see the ceiling of the extraordinary painted hall up close and personal, while scaffolding is up as the ceiling is being conserved.
How could I possibly say no when John offered me such a tour?
John dons a hi-viz vest and a hard hat
John went the whole hog, safety-dress-wise, whereas I, on learning that the hard hat was voluntary, declined the offer to wear one of those.
We were part of a small group, led my the intrepid Martina; a young, pint-sized Italian woman who seemed to know an awful lot about the ceiling.
Meet William and Mary
We are very much in the baroque period for the painted hall and ceiling. We are also steeped in the politics of the Glorious Revolution. So William and Mary take centre stage and sectarian symbolism abounds.
Symbolic characters…not the sectarian ones I am glad to say…I should have listened & memorised…River Thames & London I think…
To be honest, the detail was a bit much for me, but the awe-inspiring opportunity to see this extraordinary work up close and learn about the conservation project was extremely interesting and memorable.
I would thoroughly recommend a visit while there is still time – still several months at the time of writing this – I suggest you do it sooner rather than later.
It was a sunny winter’s day, so after the tour we strolled a bit and I especially wanted to see the chapel, where I had attended at least one concert in the past.
Scrubs up nicely, that chapel
The chapel looked especially splendid in the sunlight – I hadn’t seen it on such a day before – plus it had clearly been through a clean up and refurb of its own since my last visit, perhaps 25 years ago.
John and I pondered whether any royals had (or would) die on the day of this Painted Hall visit. We decided that, if the worst did happen, we really should abandon any future plans to meet in Greenwich.
I personally am keen on eel, although usually in the smoked form…
…indeed as soon as I have finished writing this piece I shall sup on smoked eel and salad…
…so let me press on.
John found the eel a bit difficult to navigate, because the stewed eel served alongside the pie has the bone still in. I told John that I seemed to be managing the geography of the eel pieces better than him, which he found a curious turn of phrase.
Anyway, John and I both found the eel pie shop food a little bland – not least the meat in the pie and the parsley sauce – indeed the eel was far and away the tastiest element.
We thought we might enjoy some tea/coffee elsewhere more than we’d enjoy it in the eel pie house, so we went around the corner to Red Door Cafe – a quirky place which was very much to my taste.
The proprietor, William, played a very interesting and eclectic mixture of music, ranging from Leonard Cohen to Arvo Pärt.
Red Door served a very good cup of coffee and also had an intriguing collection of teas…I sampled the white which was very nice. John tried some cake which he said was also very good. I’d certainly go to that cafe again like a shot.
John and I chatted until we realised that hours had gone by in this jovial fashion, but we both really did need to get on and do some other things before the end of the day.
