Sunday, February 05, 2012
Adventure
Yesterday was the day of our first concert of the Dorking Halls Concertgoers Society of the season, being down for the three string concerts from the Elias Quartet and possibly one other - our usual drill being to do the chamber but not the orchestral. A society which has provided us with convenient music for many years.
Yesterday, the offering was a touch lugubrious. Started easily enough with Beethoven Op. 18 No. 6, a relative of the Op. 18 No. 4 which I had a thing for for a bit, then moved into Britten Op. 94, a string quartet composed on his death bed and premièred by the Amadaeus Quartet shortly after his death. After the interval a couple of much more cheerful Purcell Fantasias then into Mendelssohn Op. 80, composed in the wake of the death of his beloved sister and shortly before his own death. So by 1700 the sky was looking a bit dodgy, the snow had begun to fall and 15cm was forecast for Heathrow. More than enough to bring our world to a grinding halt. Was it a good plan to trust ourselves to the roads of south Surrey on such a night? After some humming and hawing we decided that it was and boldly set off for Dorking, getting there OK in only slightly longer than the usual time, but to wonder about what the car park was going to be like a few hours later. But we carried on into the hall, rather than turning around then and there.
To find that the audience, as well as being its usual old was decidedly thin. I guess old age does not go well with hilly country roads in the snow. They do, after all, quite often get blocked when it snows. So we felt a bit sorry for the Elias Quartet, whom we had heard to packed houses at the Wigmore Hall and St. Luke's last year, but who last night were playing to a thinnish house in an echoey, old and decidedly provincial hall. But they rose to the occasion and put on a stirring show (BH's taste for modern music continues to surprise), only slightly marred by the gentle hum of some heating equipment high up in the roof. I guess being able to bash it out in such circumstances is all part of the training of an entertainer.
In the interval we puzzled about the curtains to the main stage, not being used on the occasion. Whacking great blue velvet things, but which managed to hang well out of vertical, with the foot of the curtain perhaps a metre in front of the seven metre drop. Furthermore, the curtain fell in nicely rounded and even bulges, bulges for which I am sure there is a curtain makers technical term, unknown to me. How was it all done? We were a bit shy about climbing up onto the stage to take a peek so we never found out. Maybe if we go along to one of their book fairs we will be able to take a less conspicuous peek at the mechanism.
After the show out to the car park where a fair amount of snow was lying around. Fortunately the car is relatively new, started first time (we have had a lot of starting problems with cars over the years. Must be something we do) and after a short while were rolling down the unusually quiet A24 back to Epsom at a steady 20mph in reasonably heavy snow. Epsom Town turned out to be very quiet for a Saturday night. But all went well until we got into our own estate and thought to try the brakes - to be greeted by all kinds of unpleasant noises and some rather unusual braking action. Presumably the brakes were full of ice or something. So gingerly down the road and rather relieved to find that we could get the car up onto our drive - the gentle slope involved has been too much in snow in the past.
PS: checking the accounts with the Charity Commissioners this morning, I see that the Society is now running at a substantial loss, a loss which I would not think was sustainable for more than a few more years. And they are squeezed between the need to contain costs and the need to buy attractive performers. It would be a great pity if they folded.
Yesterday, the offering was a touch lugubrious. Started easily enough with Beethoven Op. 18 No. 6, a relative of the Op. 18 No. 4 which I had a thing for for a bit, then moved into Britten Op. 94, a string quartet composed on his death bed and premièred by the Amadaeus Quartet shortly after his death. After the interval a couple of much more cheerful Purcell Fantasias then into Mendelssohn Op. 80, composed in the wake of the death of his beloved sister and shortly before his own death. So by 1700 the sky was looking a bit dodgy, the snow had begun to fall and 15cm was forecast for Heathrow. More than enough to bring our world to a grinding halt. Was it a good plan to trust ourselves to the roads of south Surrey on such a night? After some humming and hawing we decided that it was and boldly set off for Dorking, getting there OK in only slightly longer than the usual time, but to wonder about what the car park was going to be like a few hours later. But we carried on into the hall, rather than turning around then and there.
To find that the audience, as well as being its usual old was decidedly thin. I guess old age does not go well with hilly country roads in the snow. They do, after all, quite often get blocked when it snows. So we felt a bit sorry for the Elias Quartet, whom we had heard to packed houses at the Wigmore Hall and St. Luke's last year, but who last night were playing to a thinnish house in an echoey, old and decidedly provincial hall. But they rose to the occasion and put on a stirring show (BH's taste for modern music continues to surprise), only slightly marred by the gentle hum of some heating equipment high up in the roof. I guess being able to bash it out in such circumstances is all part of the training of an entertainer.
In the interval we puzzled about the curtains to the main stage, not being used on the occasion. Whacking great blue velvet things, but which managed to hang well out of vertical, with the foot of the curtain perhaps a metre in front of the seven metre drop. Furthermore, the curtain fell in nicely rounded and even bulges, bulges for which I am sure there is a curtain makers technical term, unknown to me. How was it all done? We were a bit shy about climbing up onto the stage to take a peek so we never found out. Maybe if we go along to one of their book fairs we will be able to take a less conspicuous peek at the mechanism.
After the show out to the car park where a fair amount of snow was lying around. Fortunately the car is relatively new, started first time (we have had a lot of starting problems with cars over the years. Must be something we do) and after a short while were rolling down the unusually quiet A24 back to Epsom at a steady 20mph in reasonably heavy snow. Epsom Town turned out to be very quiet for a Saturday night. But all went well until we got into our own estate and thought to try the brakes - to be greeted by all kinds of unpleasant noises and some rather unusual braking action. Presumably the brakes were full of ice or something. So gingerly down the road and rather relieved to find that we could get the car up onto our drive - the gentle slope involved has been too much in snow in the past.
PS: checking the accounts with the Charity Commissioners this morning, I see that the Society is now running at a substantial loss, a loss which I would not think was sustainable for more than a few more years. And they are squeezed between the need to contain costs and the need to buy attractive performers. It would be a great pity if they folded.
# posted by Jim @ 1:53 AM 
