Cello

A couple of weeks ago now, an outing to the Wigmore Hall to hear Jean-Guihen Queyras on the cello, offering Bach (cello suite No.1), Saygun (Op.31) and Britten (cello suite No.1, Op.72).

A chap that we, or at least I, have heard from time to time: see, for example, reference 5. For the man himself see reference 6 and for the concert itself see reference 7.

Continuing the lazy approach to outings, on this occasion we parked in the NCP car park behind the wannabee residential development at the bottom of Station Approach. Very convenient, but very small and not a place one could rely on getting into, certainly not on a week day.

A cool and cloudy day, so I sported the new winter jacket from T.K. Maxx - which proved to be just the thing for a winter platform, well exposed to the wind. While a chap on the train sported an old-style cheesecutter, once very common among men in one of the building trades, now not very common at all.

Arrived in good time at ABO in Regent Street, enough time to take nuts as well as tea and coffee. A touch spicy by our standards, but fine as an occasional snack. Once again, we thought about eating there later, without actually making it later.

Onto the Wigmore Hall to find what appeared to be a resident sitter, that is to say a chap of maybe thirty or so, clean and decent enough, who appeared to having been dozing in the warmth of the auditorium, just coming out as the audience went in and returning an hour later when the audience was on its way out again. Maybe they don't mind just one of them: might not be so accommodating if he told all his friends.

The Bach was as good as ever, only slightly damaged by someone behind me fiddling with a plastic bag, the sort that rustles when you fiddle with it. Rather more unusually, just as the cello stopped, a solid, florid looking chap, maybe in his mid-fifties, there with his wife, sitting in front of us, had a really unpleasant go at the young lady sitting next to BH. A apparently she had had the temerity, before the off of asking - quietly and discretely - if he might not lean into his wife as that completely blocked her view. His wife looked very embarrassed and everybody else looked rather shocked at this uncouth behaviour. This was the Wigmore Hall after all. Eventually he realised that maybe he had perhaps gone a bit far and subsided, but I imagine the young lady was quite upset, maybe to the point of spoiling the second half. I thought maybe in pain, while BH opted for a chap with a hangover who didn't want to be there in the first place.

And we liked both the two pieces that followed, the Saygun and the Britten, rather more than we were expecting, the draw having been the Bach. Not that I can remember much of either - but the first is to be found at reference 3. 

By way of encore, a short piece by Kurtág, involving a Ukrainian melody. Untraced.

Out to pick up some white bread in the Waitrose at the bottom of John Lewis - I forget now why my regular brown home-brew needed to be supplemented - and some yellow curry with rice from the cafeteria at the top. Curry and rice which did not look very substantial, but which turned out to be quite filling. BH played safe with fish and chips.

From there to Vauxhall and from there to the Raynes Park platform library, stocked up this occasion.

I thought that Tate Etc was one of those glossy magazines selling luxury goods - watches, perfume and so forth - interspersed with the odd arty article - and which turned out to really be a Tate publication. I had not realised that they were pushing into the hotel lobby and dental waiting room trade. Which turns out on closer inspection to be rather unfair, with the interior of the magazine containing a lot more arty stuff than luxury stuff. An advertisement from Margaret Howell of Wigmore Street notwithstanding. Discarded pretty much unread nevertheless.

Ditto 'drinks business', despite the entertaining selection of 'fait divers' - which last includes, for example, alcohol fuelled abuse in the Antarctic. With the result that scientists are denied, while the menials still get their rations.

On to Epsom where we found that Tesco's was still shut up behind police tape. We learned later that something bad had indeed gone down, either that morning or the day before, something bad involving a machete, although I don't think the mess on the floor is blood. But bad enough that Tesco's were not just allowed to clear up and get on - assuming that their staff had been up for that. As far as Bing knows, the two attackers are still at large.

The new-to-me car parking app from NCP had done the necessary, with various messages and emails to show for it. Maybe I am getting the hang of this app lark.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/11/shopping.html. The acquisition of the new jacket.

Reference 2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ahmet_Adnan_Saygun.

Reference 3: https://youtu.be/mbv9dNgkKiI.

Reference 4: https://www.tate.org.uk/tate-etc.

Reference 5: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/06/suites-suite.html.

Reference 6: https://jeanguihenqueyras.com/.

Reference 7: https://www.wigmore-hall.org.uk/whats-on/202311201300. The concert itself - including the close-ups that camera men seem to love but which I find rather distracting - although they did serve to remind me of the concentration and drive required at this level of performance.