Yes, I know, I know.. I've been very quiet of late. Well, I ended up not going to the cinema on Monday - I wasn't in the mood unless it was something really attractive, and it wasn't. So I stayed in. Then I was in Guildford on Tuesday, and I haven't been in the habit of going out on such days - although that'll have to change in the New Year, when the London office closes (shock, horror!). Yes, that's what's been causing all the consternation at work that I've hinted at. So they want us all to move to the Guildford office. Now, I had a serious think, and I wanted to give up neither the job (which I love) nor, of course, London. But after some consultation, it seems I may be able to work from home part of the week. Which would make things much better. Watch this space..
Yesterday, I'd booked for Agamemnon, in the Bunker Trilogy, with the London European Club. So I dragged myself all the way to Stratford again, leaving straight from the office because it just takes so long. At least there wasn't a rugby match there that night. I made Earl's Court in time for one of those trains that sit at the platform for ages, then changed at Westminster for the Jubilee Line, as usual. O Lordy.. it wasn't nearly as crowded as the last time, but it was still uncomfortably so. One of the busier lines, it was crowded enough the whole way that I felt slightly travel-sick in the stuffy environment, all the way till two stops before the end, when I finally got a seat.
I was so glad to get off. Made my way to the Arts Centre, said hi - and "be back in a minute" - to my fellow group members, who were sitting at a table in the café, and ordered myself a glass of wine. Large. I was still worried about affairs at work, and needed this more than I needed the dinner I hadn't had time to get. They served it to me in a plastic container so I could take it in, and indeed, it wasn't long before we were called to take our seats. Blasé after the last time, and knowing our way, we sauntered in after some minutes.
Same bunker - we sat at the other side this time, which allowed us to see the staging that had previously been behind us. They use smoke to create an atmosphere.. it was thicker this time, but never fear, it doesn't cause breathing difficulties. Well, as I explained to my fellow group member, seated beside me, this play is based on the Greek legend. And I recounted as much of it as I could remember, from that production of The Oresteia that I saw at Trafalgar Studios.
This production has the same cast as Morgana. Unlike that play, however, no original character names are used in this - in fact, no names at all. But it is the story of a man who heads off to war, leaving his wife behind, who doesn't understand.. and ends up falling for his cousin. And simmering passions come to a head..
I found this more accessible than Morgana. That was also an excellent production, but Agamemnon forms a more familiar story. Again, the sheer proximity of the performers gives a more intense experience, and the acting is excellent. As a recent reviewer remarked, it's notable how universal these stories are.. in this case, transmuted to the First World War. Highly recommended.. runs until Saturday, on which day tickets are limited.
Afterwards, we stopped by Pizza Express again, and had nibbles and drinks. I was intrigued by their honeycomb dessert.. so naturally had it.. and yes, it is as good as it sounds! Some convivial chat accompanied the nibbles. Home too late to blog, naturally.
Tonight, I had won a free ticket to the Talent Unlimited Showcase, courtesy of a new Meetup group I joined - Kensington Classical Music. The organiser asked several questions, and it seems I was the only one to answer the one that won me the ticket! Well, I was glad to have it. Mind you, for some reason I was sure it was in Cadogan Hall - but no, St. James', Piccadilly. A little further from home, but never mind - I went straight from the office again, and made it just in time. The correct exit from Piccadilly Station was easy to find - Exit 3 (South Piccadilly) is the one you want, and it's directly opposite as you come off the Piccadilly Line.
There was a little confusion at the box office - the group organiser was otherwise engaged, and the box office person knew nothing about me. My name was on the list of people who were supposed to get a ticket, but she asked me whether I'd paid already. Well, no, but.. she gave me the ticket, in a slightly confused manner. And I agreed to pay £1 for the programme.
Took a seat over the side - I subsequently saw the organiser at the other side, but I don't know anyone from this group very well, so just stayed where I was. This was a concert of music students - very talented ones. You know, the baffling ones.. one was just 17, and you do wonder simply that they are so good. We were treated to a fabulous - and quite long - concert, featuring many famous composers, and some not so much. And at the end, a treat not mentioned on the programme - a soprano came on to sing several popular numbers, classical and from musicals. Fabulous stuff - and I got it for free! By the end though, I was hungry and didn't fancy going to the pub with the others, so just slunk home.
Back to Ireland tomorrow for the weekend, and on Monday I'm off to Barcelona! for a U2 concert the next day - they are playing on the 5th too, but I couldn't get a ticket. :-( Mind you, I'm damn lucky to get there - I completely forgot to book the time off work, only realised yesterday, and but for having the Best Boss in the World Ever, I wouldn't be going at all. I fly back on the 7th, and on the 8th I'm off to see People, Places and Things at the National. Good job I booked early - apparently they're completely sold out now. The London Dramatic Arts group is off there on Saturday, so we can compare notes! On the 9th, I'm back to Barcelona for another couple of U2 concerts..
On Monday 12th, I'm back with the Crick Crack Storytelling Club, in the Soho Theatre again, for an interesting-sounding evening called The Heart of a Hero, apparently with an Egyptian storyteller. And the following day, I'm back with the World Music Meetup, for Varlden's Band, in Rich Mix. Long time no see this group!
Showing posts with label St. James' Church Piccadilly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label St. James' Church Piccadilly. Show all posts
Thursday, 1 October 2015
Thursday, 21 May 2015
Concert: Spring Extravaganza
The Meetup group calling itself London European Club had cheap tickets for a Spring Extravanganza concert tonight, so I bought one. Not that it was that easy - I had to confirm I was coming, then email the organiser, who would email me back the bank details for payment. Then she thought I hadn't, so I suggested she check her spam folder. I did finally get to pay!
St. James' Church Piccadilly turns out to be really close to Piccadilly Circus - you just have to make sure to turn down Piccadilly. Amazingly for Piccadilly Circus Station, this turned out to be quite easy - as you exit the barriers, a sign pretty much straight ahead directs you to "Piccadilly (South Side)". After a moment's thought, I decided that the South Side was where I needed to be - and lo and behold, when I exited at street level, I was in exactly the right place!
The church is a little ways down on the left. When I got there, I discovered a covered market in the courtyard, and remembered when I was last down this street, years ago, and came across the same market. Tonight, they were just closing up. I made my way into the church, keeping my eyes open for a group - I didn't know what the organiser looked like, but anyway, there wasn't anyone I could identify as part of a group, and after posting on the event site to ask whether anyone else was there (and getting no response) I made my way over to the ticket desk and told her whom I'd booked the ticket with. She got all flustered, and said I should talk to the lady over there.
Which was how I met the organiser. I remembered her from last night - she'd been sat in front of me, scribbling furiously in her notebook. She told me I needed to get a ticket from the desk, and I explained how they'd sent me to her. So she came and got me one herself. Then she was asking me about last night - she'd come with someone else, who wanted to leave at the interval, and she was curious to know what she'd missed in the second half. I started to tell her how I'd left myself at the interval, but we were interrupted by the arrival of another couple. And she told me to make my own way in, and sit anywhere.
Right! That was the last contact I had with anyone in the group. There was no effort to gather us together - perhaps they were a bit more sociable in the reception afterwards, but I'd had no interest in paying an extra £15 for wine, canapés, and a chance to meet the performers. Hell, I was even too cheap to pay £1 for the programme. I didn't regret it - I wasn't familiar with most of the pieces, as it turned out. And I can Google the rest.
I took an aisle seat, near-ish the front. It's an Anglican church, and pretty enough, but to someone used to Catholic churches, rather sparse:
I overheard the woman who, with her partner, had interrupted my chat with the organiser. They were wondering where to sit, and she pointed me out to him, but he wasn't keen - wanted to sit over the side for a quick getaway. So I sat alone. Well, amongst people I didn't know - it was quite full by the time the concert started.
The host wasn't familiar with the use of a microphone. She got that she had to pick it up, but completely forgot about it after that, waggling it all over the place while she was talking and most people couldn't hear what she was saying. Even after people yelled at her that they couldn't hear, she was still waving it somewhere over her ear as she spoke.
The concert programme comprised songs from musicals, as it happened. Ironically, for a concert to promote two young singers, one couldn't make it. Alison Langer has tonsillitis, it seems - poor lass. Lawrence Thackeray was there though, and in fine voice, as was Alison's replacement. The other girl was the weakest of the singers, but had it been a dress competition, she'd have won hands down - she wore a stunning black lace number (Catherine Walker, I believe), backless, with the most enormous train. Really, I pitied anyone having to walk behind her! The train took a few seconds to follow her around..
I find it a bit twee, listening to songs from musicals out of context. Still, by and large the singing was lovely - and being filmed from the side. It occurred to me to pity the poor young musicians, having to parade themselves at a reception afterwards. We had been instructed not to clap at certain intervals between songs by the same composer, but most people blithely ignored that and clapped away anyhow.
There was a 15-minute interval, after which the elderly lady in front of me suddenly became quite cranky. I started to wonder whether she had Tourette's. First, she was vexed by the woman in front of her, who was moving her head. Now, my mother becomes terribly vexed by girls tossing their long manes of hair about, like horses - that's not what this was, the lady in question was middle-aged and didn't have much hair to toss. But she was one of those people who tend to move their heads a bit. In time to the music, at least in part. The elderly lady kept darting her hand to her and pulling it back - I really wondered what she was up to. Finally, she tapped her on the shoulder and asked her to stop it.
Next, she became vexed by creaking. We were all sitting on wooden pews, and they do tend to creak, you know. Well, unfortunately, she blamed the whole thing on me. Any time anyone moved, she darted a glare at me, behind her. Me, quiet as a churchmouse and twice as still! Apart from her husband, there were three other people on her pew, but somehow I was supposed to be making it creak. Indeed, there were times she glared at me when I couldn't hear anything at all, and I wondered whether she was hallucinating. She banged her seat. She jumped in it - you know, as you might if you were trying to get someone to stay still without saying it. At one point between songs, she glared back at me and snapped, "Oh, won't you just keep still!" At which point I caught the eye of the lady sitting nearest her in her pew, who smiled sympathetically.
Not a great experience, then. But the singers acquitted themselves admirably, and I did get a cheap ticket. I was glad to get out of there, and again, home nice and early.
For tomorrow, I checked the films, but more interesting than what's top of the list is a play that one of those Meetup theatre groups is going to - one of the groups that charge a fee for the privilege of going with them. So I booked my own ticket, to The Beaux' Strategem, at the National. It's a period farce about two young men who seek to make their fortunes by marrying for money. Cheapest tickets available on the venue website, since they don't charge a booking fee.
St. James' Church Piccadilly turns out to be really close to Piccadilly Circus - you just have to make sure to turn down Piccadilly. Amazingly for Piccadilly Circus Station, this turned out to be quite easy - as you exit the barriers, a sign pretty much straight ahead directs you to "Piccadilly (South Side)". After a moment's thought, I decided that the South Side was where I needed to be - and lo and behold, when I exited at street level, I was in exactly the right place!
The church is a little ways down on the left. When I got there, I discovered a covered market in the courtyard, and remembered when I was last down this street, years ago, and came across the same market. Tonight, they were just closing up. I made my way into the church, keeping my eyes open for a group - I didn't know what the organiser looked like, but anyway, there wasn't anyone I could identify as part of a group, and after posting on the event site to ask whether anyone else was there (and getting no response) I made my way over to the ticket desk and told her whom I'd booked the ticket with. She got all flustered, and said I should talk to the lady over there.
Which was how I met the organiser. I remembered her from last night - she'd been sat in front of me, scribbling furiously in her notebook. She told me I needed to get a ticket from the desk, and I explained how they'd sent me to her. So she came and got me one herself. Then she was asking me about last night - she'd come with someone else, who wanted to leave at the interval, and she was curious to know what she'd missed in the second half. I started to tell her how I'd left myself at the interval, but we were interrupted by the arrival of another couple. And she told me to make my own way in, and sit anywhere.
Right! That was the last contact I had with anyone in the group. There was no effort to gather us together - perhaps they were a bit more sociable in the reception afterwards, but I'd had no interest in paying an extra £15 for wine, canapés, and a chance to meet the performers. Hell, I was even too cheap to pay £1 for the programme. I didn't regret it - I wasn't familiar with most of the pieces, as it turned out. And I can Google the rest.
I took an aisle seat, near-ish the front. It's an Anglican church, and pretty enough, but to someone used to Catholic churches, rather sparse:
I overheard the woman who, with her partner, had interrupted my chat with the organiser. They were wondering where to sit, and she pointed me out to him, but he wasn't keen - wanted to sit over the side for a quick getaway. So I sat alone. Well, amongst people I didn't know - it was quite full by the time the concert started.
The host wasn't familiar with the use of a microphone. She got that she had to pick it up, but completely forgot about it after that, waggling it all over the place while she was talking and most people couldn't hear what she was saying. Even after people yelled at her that they couldn't hear, she was still waving it somewhere over her ear as she spoke.
The concert programme comprised songs from musicals, as it happened. Ironically, for a concert to promote two young singers, one couldn't make it. Alison Langer has tonsillitis, it seems - poor lass. Lawrence Thackeray was there though, and in fine voice, as was Alison's replacement. The other girl was the weakest of the singers, but had it been a dress competition, she'd have won hands down - she wore a stunning black lace number (Catherine Walker, I believe), backless, with the most enormous train. Really, I pitied anyone having to walk behind her! The train took a few seconds to follow her around..
I find it a bit twee, listening to songs from musicals out of context. Still, by and large the singing was lovely - and being filmed from the side. It occurred to me to pity the poor young musicians, having to parade themselves at a reception afterwards. We had been instructed not to clap at certain intervals between songs by the same composer, but most people blithely ignored that and clapped away anyhow.
There was a 15-minute interval, after which the elderly lady in front of me suddenly became quite cranky. I started to wonder whether she had Tourette's. First, she was vexed by the woman in front of her, who was moving her head. Now, my mother becomes terribly vexed by girls tossing their long manes of hair about, like horses - that's not what this was, the lady in question was middle-aged and didn't have much hair to toss. But she was one of those people who tend to move their heads a bit. In time to the music, at least in part. The elderly lady kept darting her hand to her and pulling it back - I really wondered what she was up to. Finally, she tapped her on the shoulder and asked her to stop it.
Next, she became vexed by creaking. We were all sitting on wooden pews, and they do tend to creak, you know. Well, unfortunately, she blamed the whole thing on me. Any time anyone moved, she darted a glare at me, behind her. Me, quiet as a churchmouse and twice as still! Apart from her husband, there were three other people on her pew, but somehow I was supposed to be making it creak. Indeed, there were times she glared at me when I couldn't hear anything at all, and I wondered whether she was hallucinating. She banged her seat. She jumped in it - you know, as you might if you were trying to get someone to stay still without saying it. At one point between songs, she glared back at me and snapped, "Oh, won't you just keep still!" At which point I caught the eye of the lady sitting nearest her in her pew, who smiled sympathetically.
Not a great experience, then. But the singers acquitted themselves admirably, and I did get a cheap ticket. I was glad to get out of there, and again, home nice and early.
For tomorrow, I checked the films, but more interesting than what's top of the list is a play that one of those Meetup theatre groups is going to - one of the groups that charge a fee for the privilege of going with them. So I booked my own ticket, to The Beaux' Strategem, at the National. It's a period farce about two young men who seek to make their fortunes by marrying for money. Cheapest tickets available on the venue website, since they don't charge a booking fee.
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