End of October

On the last day of October, to the Wigmore Hall for a Sunday morning concert consisting of a Mozart quartet (K.590) and an Elgar piano quintet (Op.84), given by the Doric String Quartet, assisted by Alisdair Beatson on the piano. The quartet seem to have been heard on a similar occasion, around three years ago and noticed at reference 1.

Another impoverished programme, with no glossy pictures or advertisements. Perhaps producing these programmes costs more than they can recover by selling them, so something which got the chop in these plaguey times of uncertain ticket revenues - using this word in its original, 16th century sense, not recognised at all by Google, which goes for the red underline for error.

It was the morning of an extra hour in bed, thanks to the change to winter time, but that soon vanished, and we were on the damp and windy platform at Epsom Station by 09:15. The newish bus shelter at the country end provided better shelter than one might think, complete with entertainment provided by some sound from somewhere leaking into the public address system. It sounded a bit like a radio.

As it turned out we were a little early, so we had time to have a quick look inside All Saints' Church, discovered on the occasion noticed at reference 2, and which BH and I failed at subsequently. Open on this occasion, with the solemnity of the place enhanced by an acolyte attending to the candles against mass at 11:00 and a large gentlemen in what looked like monastic clothes sitting in front of us. A fine building, and given their reputation for music it would be good to go back for a sung mass at some point.

Onto to All-Bar-One for tea, coffee and smarties - wine being off at this early hour on a Sunday. But I noticed something called a Lyte phone charger on the wall. From where we were sat, I thought the idea was to put your phone in the slot in the front, and I decided that this was not going to work with my obsolete Microsoft phone. But checking today at reference 3, I find that the slot was for my credit card, insertion of which might result in a portable charger popping out of the top, like a toaster. Which would still, for me, depend on the portable charger having the right sort of (male) charging plug. Maybe next time I shall look into it more carefully.

On the way past the new Marsden Private on the western side of Cavendish Square, I wondered whether the hefty looking stone brackets holding up the balconies outside the second floor windows were actually doing anything? Or were they ornamental fakes, with the heavy lifting being done by invisible steel?

Into a not very full hall, where I enjoyed the Mozart, but found the Elgar a bit bombastic, reflecting, I suppose, its composition at the end of the first world war. Additional entertainment was provided by a black chap with dreadlocks, a couple of rows in front of us, quietly falling asleep. Several busy ladies in his vicinity found it necessary to try to wake him up, without much success. Hard to see why they couldn't just leave him be. Perhaps they did not like the lack of respect for the music being shown by the interloper - but lack of respect of the same variety shown by old, white regulars did not seem to matter in the same way. So bordering on racist. A verdict supported by the fact that one of the busies had been reading the 'Daily Mail' before the off. Even in the Wigmore Hall.

From there a quick sherry and onto Ponti's, a restaurant in Great Castle Street, a place we used to visit regularly about five year ago - and, indeed, on the occasion noticed at reference 1. But BH was not happy with the changes brought in by the youngsters when the oldsters retired, in particular the volume of the background music, other duties supervened on Mondays and so we more or less stopped going.

The place did not seem to have changed much and we were greeted very cheerfully, to the extent of turning down the music, still rather loud to the sober ear. The greeter turned us over to a very pleasant Irish waitress who didn't bother with cod Italian - she said that she must have fallen asleep during that bit of her training. But she was fairly sure that it was real Italians who owned the place. BH had her usual chicken salad, and was very happy with that, while I had what can only be described as a lasagne pudding, yellow rather than red in colour and looking as if it had been turned out of a circular bowl. Tasted OK though. After which I pulled a stunt with the cheese, asking for just one sort of cheese rather than three, and bread rather than biscuits. What I got was rather a lot of cheese and some triangles of toast. Not quite what I had meant, but helped along with a spot of grappa, I got it down.

Car park markings still present on the floor of the downstairs bar.

Onto John Lewis for something BH was after, in the course of which I had a go on a Peleton cycling machine, something we see a lot of advertisements for on ITV3. £1,350 or so at John Lewis. Also to be found at reference 6. I didn't much care for the feel of thing at all. OK, so you could exercise your legs, but the whole thing was completely rigid, with no movement in the seat or in the handlebars - failings which I would have thought it would be easy enough for the designers to correct. And the screen business was very disappointing, with all that was on offer being statistics (on which I had little interest) and hilly, country rides in foreign countries. Probably on empty roads. Nothing in this country and certainly not cycling around London. None of the fun of the real thing, just keeping your heart and legs busy. I left wondering why on earth I would bother with one as long as I am safe on real roads on a real cycle.

Home via Sutton, I forget why. Perhaps we just missed one of the half hourly trains to Epsom on the Waterloo side? Sutton, it turned out, ran to free books, although not on quite the same scale as Raynes Park. I acquired a slim volume by one Sir. Henry Wood, entirely appropriate given that his Queen's Hall was quite near Cavendish Square. Published by the Sylvan Press of Museum Street in 1945 and bought by someone that same year. Curiously noted 'reprinted before publication', whatever than might mean.

To judge by this snap provided by Open Library at reference 7, a publisher most active in the late 1940's and early 1950's, but still alive, at least until relatively recently. Maybe I will remember to have a look in Museum Street, next time I am in that area.

Not yet read, but I have come across some curiously old-fashioned views on the place of women in an orchestra, views which may well have been quite advanced in his day. Some detailed instructions about the construction of the baton - although neither Bing nor Google turn up anything for the Messrs. Palmer of Great Yarmouth from whom he got his batons - apart from a not long finally closed department store there. Quite possibly some connection. And lastly, there is a letter reproduced in the Appendix about the proper number of Herz for A above middle C - a matter complicated by the fact the the pitch of wind instruments rises with temperature.

I also acquired a sale catalogue from Baldwins's Auctions for old coins. And there is enough there to see the attraction this might have for the better class of stamp collector. Or at least the richer stamp collector. A hobby which plays to both the desire to collect and arrange and an interest in history. One could easily spend a lot of time happily pondering about how this or that coin turned up where it did, perhaps hundreds - or even thousands - of miles from where it was stamped out.

Last and least, a French picture book about Russia, reprinted from the English of Godalming. Palaces, interesting old buildings and exotic scenery. More or less nothing about life in Russia at the time of printing. Some of the photographs are quite good for all that.

Wood to be retained; coins pending and Russia to be recycled to the Spring book fair.

PS: on the way home, BH pointed out that the quartet had a Scottish flavour about them and that Doric was the name for the sort of Scots (not Gaelic) occasionally spoken in the Aberdeen area. Was this the connection? Subsequent inspection of reference 4 gave nothing away, one way or the other. My money remains on the Greek connection.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/09/wigmore-one.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2021/10/a-new-church.html.

Reference 3: https://lyte.city/.

Reference 4: http://doricstringquartet.com/.

Reference 5: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2021/10/wellingtonia-53.html. The Wellingtonia captured on the way home.

Reference 6: https://www.onepeloton.co.uk/.

Reference 7: https://openlibrary.org/.