Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Double bill
A few days ago scored what I think might be a first for us. Went to see Tamara Drewe within days of its release, in a proper cinema. Rather than grabbing a senior session at the small & hard seated Epsom Playhouse, some months or years after the event. But no more punters in the Odeon than in the Playhouse, say less than a dozen. Hard to see how they make a crust at that rate. We could hardly have paid the staff costs never mind anything else. Film itself both good fun and with some good hot spots, if a little long and marred, for the BH anyway, by liberal use of the vernacular. Bit like a glossy version of Midsomer Murders. Some good swipes at best selling authors and writers' retreats - which might be why the TLS was a little po-faced in its praise. Bit too close to the bone.
Followed yesterday by a follow-up trip to Holy Trinity in Sloane Land (see August 25) where we heard an excellent young pianist, Gareth Owen, do some show off pieces on the piano, part of the Chelsea Schubert Festival. A Bach Partita transcribed by Rachmaninov. Late Schubert sonata, D958. Chopin Ballade, Op. 52. All sounded rather good - considering both that I had not heard any of it before and that I am not usually very keen on show off pieces - on a small grand, a Bluthner I think, with a very clear tone, well suited to the venue. BH observed that there were magical moments. Which indeed there were, some of which in my case were mixed up with the splendid east window.
The window is arranged in two parts. A relatively plain bottom half with 48 little panels containing saints. Then a relatively fancy top half, maybe in what the French would call the Flamboyant style. For the first two pieces we still had some light and I was struck how the designer of the glass had put a narrow clear border around each section, a wheeze which really brought out the tracery in this particular light. Deep black tracery against the glowing glass. A good balance between the tracery and the stained glass. An organic and balanced whole of which I think Pugin would have approved. See May 3rd. Excellent backdrop to the music.
Then the light faded and the window went dull. Just a flat end to the chancel. No life in it at all. The tracery stopped being part of a window and was reduced to being a bit of fluff spread across a bit of brown board across a hole in the wall. But then, as the Chopin picked up, it came back to life with the tracery giving the illusion that the window was not flat at all and the tracery was not that of a window but that of a complicated apse. Great sense of depth. A sense which faded between the Chopin and the encore, but came back, piano, during the encore.
After which came back to earth in the middle of a cloud burst in Sloane Square. Decided to forego a second round at 'The Antelope' and headed down into the tube station and onto Wimbledon. A convenient way home if one happens to be in west London.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
A different class of cheese
I learn from the NYRB that former president Bush the younger was a real wow at nicknames, with one Karl Rove scoring 'Turd Blossom'. The general idea being that out of turd comes the blossom of victory. Which may be appropriate if the subject is a political campaign manager. No idea if it is in this case, although there is no evidence against in what I have seen so far. But my interest is rather in whether such practises extend to our own oh-so-nice Blair and Cameron types. No great surprise to come across this sort of thing in the US, where the seem-so-nice citizens can be surprisingly crude when they get into relax mode. Surprising scatological humour finds its way into their family films. Sex out but s*** in. But do our great and good go in for this sort of thing? One clue might be the fondness of some senior members of the Royal Family for fairly serious practical joking.
For most of yesterday our minds were on higher things, starting out at the new Renaissance galleries at the V&A, where they have assembled a truly remarkable collection. OK, so not quite the same as seeing the stuff in-situ, in the church, the palace or whatever, as one can at Florence. But given that one is not in Florence, a rather good second best. Some fascinating carved stone well heads which I had not come across before, clearly an item of conspicuous consumption in Italy at that time. A splendid round tomb stone carved in low relief. And some splendid balcony panels, also carved in low relief. The dominant note in both stone and panels being very effective, but simple geometric pattern. Some rather lurid altar pieces from Germany reminding one how exactly martyrs got martyred. We gave the middle of the three floors a reasonable look. Going to have to go back to do more on the other two.
Rounded this off with a whizz around the theatrical galleries up on the third floor. Lots of costume but what was interesting me yesterday were the models of theatres and sets.
Next stop the Brompton Oratory. Very grand and gloomy on this rather overcast day. Spent some time in the small chapel to the right of the altar, behind the elaborate altar to Mary. Bold but effective detailing to the stone work.
Couldn't get into the CofE church nestling behind. Only open on Sundays, despite the fancy new porch and despite the fact that I am sure that is was open last time I tried. Maybe some time ago now.
Moved onto Pont Street to see the Presbyterian Church of Scotland church there. Post war reconstruction; large and rather impressive. Good pillars and capitals; the latter having restrained but effective carving. Circular, restrained, modest and effective east window. A building which provides space for a congregation without trying to overwhelm it. Of which more shortly.
Down the rather curious and rather long Pavilion Street, running just behind Sloane Street. A proper old mews street with lots of large and ancient garage doors, perhaps dating from the days of horse and carriage. There were also quite a few old houses. Some new build. No pub for the refreshment of those in service but passed three young ladies dressed up as maids in full black and white gear having a fag on a door step. Foreign; BH thought French.
Quick pick-me-up in a place called the 'Chelsea Brasserie'. Tea and cake. Not much choice but a good carrot cake with a good, slightly crunchy topping I had not come across before. Clientele very metropolitan. Not like the Cafe Rouge in Epsom at all.
Rounded off the arts and crafts with a place described as the cathedral of the arts and crafts movement. A place which I must have been past tens if not hundreds of times but have never before gotten around to going in. Around 130 years old and big. No expense spared on the windows which included big-name artists for the stained glass. The east window was something special with stained glass playing well to the tracery. The lady told us that it look especially special if you happened to be there at dawn, with the sun rising behind it. North aisle windows rather different, breaking the Pugin rule about not having pictorial elements cutting across the tracery, but working just the same. Other windows different again. The lady also told us that the place is full on Sunday - quite an achievement for a place of this size. But congregation well heeled enough to support a rather grandly printed book of the church for £5 - from the Trinity Arts and Crafts Guild. See matching web site at http://www.holytrinitysloanesquare.co.uk.
Seems odd now that they thought seriously about knocking the place down in the late sixties.
All of which led to a deep thought this morning. The Elizabethan apron stage was very lightly propped. Not much interest in fancy decor or fancy clothes. The idea was to focus on the actors and what they were saying, rather than on their packaging. Is it a coincidence that this sort of stage flourished at the same time and place as the Puritans, not that different from the Presbyterians above, who wanted to move the focus of a service from the rituals of remote priests in fancy (if affective) surroundings to a something simpler, in which the word was more important than the decor? Leaving aside as irrelevant - to my mind anyway - the fact that Puritans were rather anti-theatre, elaborate or not.
