Concert: Tenebrae by Candlelight

When I look for stuff to do these days, I go to Meetup first. Even if I'm not a group member, I can see what they're up to, and it has already given me some great ideas. Besides, it's usually an awful lot quicker than trawling through Time Out - their new search engine has ruined the site for me. So it was that I came across Tenebrae by Candlelight in St. John's Church Smith Square, advertised and attended by the All Things Baroque Group. It sounded right up my street, and I'd have joined the group, but you have to pass an entrance test of sorts - you have to specify your favourite Baroque artist and composer on the form! I love Baroque music, but not really the art, and even with the music I just know what I like, and can hardly name any composers! So I decided to attend the concert on my own.

It didn't seem to be selling out, so I decided to forego the booking fee and just show up. Practically out of cash, I had to stop by Tesco on the way home, and decided to get cash there - only to discover that both cash machines were out of order! Now, with churches, you can't be sure that they'll have card machines, so I needed cash - but this was on in Westminster, and I figured I'd find a cash machine somewhere.

The train indicators acted in my favour this evening. The indicator at West Brompton, which said that the next train was headed my way, told the truth.. then at Earl's Court, where we pulled in at the same time as another train heading the same way, the indicator said that that train would leave first.. but it lied, and we moved first instead! which was handy, because I really hadn't felt like moving.

We eventually chugged into Westminster, where the fun started. This station has six exits, and it's years since I exited here. There are maps - and although the first was illegible with cigarette burns, I did find one that told me Exit 6 was the one I wanted for where I wanted to go. Lovely - except I was looking for a cash machine. I wasted several minutes trailing over and back across Parliament Square in vain, before I gave up and headed where I was supposed to be headed. Then I was unsure where that was - things looked a bit different from Streetview because of scaffolding, and the street names didn't match. Luckily, my phone reception is great in that part of town, and the map app soon confirmed I was headed the right way - down St. Margaret Street.

I continued until I came to Dean Stanley Street, on the right - I could have cut across, but I'm not that familiar with the area - and turning down there I could see the church at the end. I could also see the church clock, which was definitely running fast and showed me - and the people hurrying in front of me, who were also going - that we were slightly late. And then.. a cash machine! Hosanna, hallelujah. It made me a little later, but what the hey. Approaching the church, finally, I saw that the entrance to the box office was down the steps right in front of me, at the side of the church - the main church / concert hall entrance is to the right of there.

I hurried to the desk and asked for a ticket for tonight - a cheap one, to the side. And as she printed one off, I noticed they had card machines.. She directed me through the rather attractive crypt restaurant and to the right, where a small queue of latecomers had formed - the concert had indeed started. Well, we occupied ourselves with watching it on the small screen by the door, until the guy said we could go up now, but to wait at the door until the usher let us in; wait for the applause, he said.

We found ourselves climbing a spiral stone staircase. (With a railing, thankfully.) And we stood at the top of it for about 10 minutes, listening to the music, slightly muffled through the door, and starting with anticipation at every pause in the music. Finally, one pause was long enough that we were let in, and I took a chair at the side. Side seating is unreserved, and seating in the church is in individual chairs rather than pews. And I must say that my view - particularly when the lady beside me moved closer and I took her seat and got a view of the entire choir between two columns - was just as good as any in the more expensive seats. I just had to turn sideways, is all!

It was lovely - so peaceful. The acoustics were great, and the singers were positioned in front of a dramatic, long scarlet curtain - probably concealing the altar. I couldn't tell you what was being sung, but the choir comprised eight singers - six men, two women - who performed a cappella. The candles, BTW, were electric. Soon, the conductor made an announcement, pronouncing himself pleasantly surprised at the turnout! Seems they'd sold out of programmes, so he took it upon himself to give us a run-down of the playlist. Now, I estimated that about 80% of the seats on the ground floor were occupied, and none in the gallery, although it had been on sale: so they weren't very optimistic when printing their programmes, were they now?

At the interval, an usher came round with ice creams, but it didn't seem appropriate really - especially with no bins. I had a quick look around to see whether I could identify that Meetup group, but saw nobody that I thought might be a candidate. No name badges, and no small groups of four - which was the grand total of Meetup members that said they'd come to this! A group of six middle-aged people did position themselves right across from me for their interval chat: which was quite awkward, because then people trying to pass got in my way..

At the start of the second half, there was a thump from near me, and I glanced over, to see a young couple: him looking down and frowning in concentration, it looked like, and her with her hand covering her face. The mind boggles.. Meantime, they turned off the candles. The conductor explained that the Tenebrae rites of Holy Week traditionally involve the gradual extinguishing of candles. They couldn't really do that here, but they started the second half by turning off all the candles, and finished it with the stage lights extinguished as well, the singers seeing by virtue of small lights attached to their music stands. Beautiful music, it sent a shiver through me.

I wondered what the conductor was doing when he came off stage at one point to the table where they were selling cds, looking for the cash box, which he then took onstage with him. All was revealed at the very end, when one of the singers reached into it, took out a handful of coins and dashed them on the stage - a traditional recreation of the payment to Judas of the 30 pieces of silver. He'd told us about that, I'd just forgotten.

At the end, the four who dashed out first, sure enough, ended up ahead of me in the toilets! Great minds think alike. After, it was out into a light rain shower. I headed back up to Parliament Square and was headed for Exit 6 of the station, at the Northeast corner, until I realised there was no crossing there! The only corner where there isn't. And the traffic is too busy to risk. Instead, I had to retrace my steps. Very vexing, in the rain when you want to get home.

Well, tomorrow night is an evening that Helen and I have had booked for ages - we're off to see Sweeney Todd in the Coliseum, starring Emma Thompson. We had booked to eat there too, but now that she's getting an earlier train, we have options. We'll see.. then I'm back to Ireland for Easter. My mother fancies Sunday lunch in Flanagan's - I must get around to booking it, they do get busy. Back to London on Tuesday, and on Wednesday I've booked to see Des Bishop live for the first time! He's doing a run in the Soho Theatre. Not sure, but I may be headed to the Guildford office on Thursday.. which means no going out, I get too tired.