psmv5: Beckers

That is to say a visit to the newly opened Bechstein Hall, which we have been admiring from the outside for quite some time now, more than two and a half years if reference 1 is anything to go by. Rather longer than I would have said had I been asked. Possibly snapped above when it was still the showroom of a London piano manufacturer: '...In addition to the proximity to its old home, C. Bechstein were also drawn to the history of 18-22 Wigmore St. which was redeveloped by piano manufacturer and retailer John Brinsmead and Sons in 1892 as showroom, offices and warehouse, before installing their own concert hall in 1894'.

The day started with the trolley, pork and snooze reported at reference 2. Waking, it was still cold, so I took a lift to the station. There was also the consideration that this was the first evening out for quite some time, so a bit of care was in order.

It did indeed seem cold on the station, despite my puffer jacket and so forth. I also noticed that there were quite few younger people about who seemed to be managing with far few clothes. Platform indicators boards were out and an announcer told us that there was a train stuck south of Dorking, which put paid to any idea one might have had of travelling to Horsham. But the 16:38 to Waterloo turned up on time - even if the indicator boards in the train were out too. Onto Bond Street on the tube, on which I was rapidly offered a seat by a small and shy young lady, on this occasion declined. It was only a few stops.

Onto to Olle & Steen to coffee and bun, with this last definitely counting as junk food, the sort of stuff noticed but not snapped at reference 3. It might also have been called a cinnamon bun, a sort of layered affair in which a brown layer was extremely sweet. Too sweet for me, but hopefully it was going to keep the cold out.

While across the aisle from me were two chaps in business clothes, one very smartly turned out and with or affecting a fancy accent. He was talking more or less non-stop to the other chap. Was he making a pitch, trying for a role? Trying to impress? I shall never know, as I was not near enough to hear much of what was actually being said.

The draw was the Beethoven violin sonata, Op.47 No.9, aka Kreutzer. Performed by Coco Tomita (violin) and Simon Callaghan ( piano).

The hall turned out to be absolutely brand new, in fact not quite finished, with some snagging still to be done. I got the impression that it had been opened in rather a hurry, that it had been a push to be open in time for the scheduled concerts, of which this was one of the first. As well as the Beethoven, I thought the idea of doing a short concert twice, once quite early in the evening was a good one. I could perhaps manage the odd short, early in the evening? They were also keen to sell you food and drink.

Lots of brown wood, a lot of it of the matt plywood variety, rather than the high polish mahogany of the Wigmore Hall up the road, the first Bechstein Hall as it happens, renamed, in the margins of the First World War. Lots of rather narrow staircases with plenty of bends. Lots of staff, mostly but by no means all quite young. The sort of cloakroom and bar downstairs you might get in the middling sort of hotel, perhaps the sort that one used to get in Gower Street.

There also a Hoffman upright and a Zimmerman grand, the upright just visible in the middle of the snap above and the grand opposite it, to the right. Plenty of other pianos about upstairs, some which still had their transport plastic on. The birch ply backs to some of the uprights at least had not been stained or varnished and was still the native blond. Not a problem, provided it was kept facing a wall.

These two pianos reminded me that Bechstein had been bought up by a far eastern company, probably Chinese. But checking today tells me that memory is defective, yet again. There is or at least was a relationship between Samick and Bechstein, with Samick being a large Korean company, but it was not ownership and the two companies now largely go their separate ways. But all very complicated, as can been seen from references 6, 7 and 8.

The hall seated perhaps a hundred, in ten rows of ten, broken by a central aisle. Maybe twenty of us there, for seats which cost a good deal more than a seat at a comparable concert at the Wigmore Hall. All very intimate.

Also fairly hi-tech (which also suggested far eastern ownership to me), with a sky that could twinkle with stars, rather in the fashion of a Las Vegas casino shopping arcade, and with panels down both sides, rather like those you get in the escalators of the better tube stations. These ones came alive with the voice and face of an avuncular Edward Fox telling us to turn our mobile phones off just before the off. Which was rather funny - as I think it was meant to be.

I thought the musicians took a little while to bed down in the Debussy, not really my thing, but they really came to life for the Beethoven. I was very struck by how much difference it made being in a small hall and being so close to the musicians. A downside was an occasional harshness from the violin, not ironed out as it would be in a bigger space, but all upside apart from that. Very effective. We got another, short Debussy piece by way of encore, possibly the song 'Beau Soir' reimagined for the violin. Of which a Fazioli version is to be found at reference 9.

Tomita was playing from a computer, although she looked to be playing from memory most of the time, while Callaghan turned his own pages. And there was a large Bechstein crown above the piano which struck me as being more toothy than regal. Perhaps it should have been a little smaller.

A good show at an interesting new venue. It will be interesting to see how they get on. Although I must say, I was a little surprised at the poor design of the layout of the concert suite as a whole.

For once a visit to the Half Way House at Earlsfield; big hole (with shoring) and road closed outside, but quite busy inside, with just the odd free spot in the drinking area. I thought to take the Valpolicella, upon which the barmaid asked what on earth that was. I suggested she took a look at the red wine she had to offer, whereupon it was forthcoming. I noticed that over the half hour or so that I was there, most of the people in the bar area were in fact eating, at least eating something, if not quite 'dining'. Not real boozers.

The piano that used to live on the upstairs landing was missing. Last noticed in 2022 at reference 10, first noticed back in 2018. Piano No.1 in fact. With the catch being that the piano at reference 10 looks very odd, rather as if someone has taken most of the insides out and refashioned the thing as a piece of furniture. With just a hint that there was something wrong in 2022.

On the platform, a short game of aeroplanes, scoring a couple of rolling threes. Then a very big step up to the train, much more of a hazard than the long flight of stairs up from road level.

Lots of books at Raynes Park, but (unusually) nothing of interest. Then a short, busy train, which stops at the country end of the platform, leaving everyone with a walk back to the steps and the seats at the town end. Why do they do it? Perhaps one day I will try asking someone.

Home to bread and mushrooms. And a visit to the Bechstein Hall website, which seemed to be work in progress too. Reference 11.