From Sunday Drawing Club last night
Wednesday, September 15, 2021
It's so easy to overlook this little outdoor theatre. I remember the first time I went there, to see A Midsummer Night's Dream, when I was amazed by the romantic setting: as the play progressed, dusk fell and pinprick lights illuminated the grass banks on either side of the stage, echoing the pale stars in the sky. You can hear London's faint roar in the background and feel its atmosphere in the air.
Since then, I've seen that play again there, and also taken the young Offsprogs to see a production of The Pirates of Penzance, through which the animals at London Zoo must have had a rollicking, roaring, chirping, growling, howling singalong each night.
Every summer it lists itself in my head as a possibility, and gets forgotten. But the imminent return to work, plus a good review of this show in The Guardian, encouraged me to buy tickets. Yesterday of course was spectacularly rainy, and I was half expecting it to be cancelled, but the rain held off and we made our way through Regents Park, marvelling at the lovely smells and the peculiar drooping mist that hung around the topiary. The roses were out in all their soggy splendour, and we took a sniff as we passed by.
A powerful persuader for going to this was also the fact that it's outside. I am not taking any chances at the moment because people close to me need to be safe; although masks are mandatory on public transport I have to constantly move to get away from people who think that covering their noses and mouths is a challenge to their own civil liberties, bypassing the fact that the risk of passing on a deadly virus to vulnerable people is much more than an offence to those people's rights: it might possibly kill them.
People were well spaced out last night and we sat together in a huddle. The sightlines there are great anyway; you can see from wherever you sit. We ate ice creams and the metaphorical curtain rose: the auditorium lights went down, and the stage lights went up. A group of brass players appeared and played the Carousel theme, and off we went.
I'm not a habitual theatregoer and I haven't been to a musical for a very long time, so my impressions are really biased. The show seemed to take a long time to get going, because there was a long music and dancing section at the beginning. I wanted to see the band during this: they were working really hard and I longed to see who was doing what and when. I know there is really limited space there, but in a real life musical as opposed to a filmed one, everything is an asset and provides an opportunity to show more of the workings of the show. On the plus side, the singers without exception put vocalists in pop and rock music to shame. They were note perfect. Every time I winced expecting a top note to be missed (I know the pattern of song writing in musicals so well), the singer hit it bang-on with headroom to spare. Not only that, the vocal tones were lovely: there was very little 'belting', and even the aural exciter (or it's equivalent) couldn't mask the fact that there were some very beautiful voices indeed here, coming from singers absolutely revelling in their craft, and being delighted to practice it again after being in lockdown.
The story had been adapted to take away the acceptance and tacit approval of domestic violence that resides at the heart of the original musical. It wasn't a send-up, more of a conscious revisitation of the original narrative. The costumes... well, again, I am biased. It did look terribly like a University arts department staff meeting, a bit of a Toast catalogue of muted tones, oversized dresses and baggy trousers. Tame hipster for the men. Again, this toning down of the razzamatazz was a comment on the glamorisation of a working-class fable which probably worked for audience members who didn't have regular meetings with East London music, drama and dance lecturers. I kept seeing my colleagues in the characters, and had to fight against this familiarity quite hard.
So what is my overall verdict? Actually, this was a really great night out. As a person with a very low patience threshold, I never disengaged. The venue felt safe and open, even the eating and drinking areas. People were respectful of distancing. In the musical itself, there were some slow bits, but enough humorous parts to override that. And the singing of You'll Never Walk Alone was gorgeous: the woman who sang that had an entirely different voice, much deeper and more powerful than the rest of the cast. She avoided drama, vibrato, or fake emotion and sang it into the crowd as though she was singing it to the whole world. Fantastic. I remember that song being sung at Poly Styrene's funeral by Celeste, her daughter. It is a very hard song to pitch, and a very unusual song melodically that you can imaging being written in a one-off session. It was the moment of the night.
I want to go again!
On the way back to the tube station, we speculated about football crowds singing Rodgers and Hammerstein songs at matches. What would be the most inappropriate one? We settled on My Favourite Things. The thought of a stadium full of rufty-tufty men singing 'Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens..' in unison through their beer and testosterone made us roar with laughter, and one of our party resolved to apply to The Arts Council for a grant to make it really happen.
Tuesday, September 14, 2021
Life is full of myriad annoyances, at whatever stage you are. The thing is, very few of them are worth getting annoyed about. Some of them are temporary, some are too huge, and some of them need to be lived with like constant itch that has to be suppressed in order to function. Annoyances are almost a distraction from the things in life that really matter.
I realised this yesterday. Several potentially annoying things happened, but I had to move on from them extremely rapidly in order to avoid them becoming a heavy burden that ruined the entire day. Lo and behold, half way through the day the tide turned, and some of the annoyances resolved themselves without anything notable happening: just time and patience.
I don't even care that it's raining out there.
Monday, September 13, 2021
Sunday, September 12, 2021
Yesterday morning was spent partly in St John's Church, Barnet, looking at my neighbour Keith West's paintings of scenes from the Battle of Barnet. He has frequently painted scenes from the Battle and this small exhibition was part of the commemorations of the anniversary of the battle. Notably, Keith paints soldiers from a variety of different cultures in his work and by doing so, inserts truth into a historical narrative that is all too often whitewashed.
Unfortunately our local MP, the Conservative Theresa Villiers, was in attendance and it wasn't possible to stay long. She is an entitled person, a Brexiter. I can not bring myself to be in the vicinity of a Tory MP, especially not in my home town, and even more especially in a church. I always assumed Christianity to be about compassion, and the Tories do not possess this. Their ceaseless plundering of poor people in order to enrich themselves is against the revolutionary nature of its principles; every religion is hijacked for the purposes of power over vulnerable people, and I find this utterly depressing. To see this so blatantly manifested by the hovering form of Theresa in her habitual bright blue dress spoiled the morning. I will continue to enjoy Keith's work in other locations. Sorry for the rant, but the cruelty of the Tories tips me over the edge sometimes.
I did photograph some of the kneeling cushions, though, which I thought were beautiful.
Wednesday, September 08, 2021
When in doubt, swap guitars. A song that I was recording threatened to beat me last week, and thankfully, I deleted the project by accident. I listened back to a rough mix just now and the playing wasn't bad, but I could hear the torture. I changed to a different guitar and the playing's worse but the feel is better, so I'm taking an ears-break and going back to it in an hour's time. All this work for a piddly little three minute song, but my first one sounds so good in it's almost-finished state that I've set the bar high, and I need to keep to it and not be lazy.
The first one just needs popifying- tidying up so it's neat and not too rough round the edges. But that will be fun in itself and I'm going to finish all of them to a certain point and then do them together.
It's ideal singing weather (high pressure and sunny), so I might try some lead vocals later, if next door's dog calms down and the M25 helicopters go home for their tea. Oh, and between cars in rush hour.
But you know.
Very often life seems surreal. A family member is in hospital, which is worrying. The night before last, I could not sleep for a long time but finally dropped off. A 'ping' woke me at 4 a.m. and I feared the worst, but it was a songwriter that I used to work with Whatsapping me from California to tell me how happy she is with what she is doing.
Last night I woke up at 4 a.m. too, my body clock having already adjusted to the new waking up time.
The past two days I have been back at work, once virtually and once in real life. It takes a million years to get to Docklands by public transport but it's quite spectacular once you are there. The little Docklands Light Railway rattles along through construction sites scrabbling about next to newly-constructed flats with unified balconies: I have decided they are populated by fake people to make things look good.
I saw these chaps on the platform at Bank but was too late to photograph them, I thought- but then turned my head and there they were, travelling to St George's, they told me. Two Pearly Kings, not wearing masks but socially distanced. Some wag asked me if they were using Oyster Cards!
Monday, September 06, 2021
Thursday, September 02, 2021
I thought lavender only grew in France, but Offsprog One discovered a farm near Hitchin in Hertfordshire. That's where we went yesterday, picking the last few sprigs of scented lavender and wandering amongst the short, huge-faced sunflowers that seemed to be hanging their heads in shame. It was cold, but we drank tea and ate fresh food in the brisk wind before heading sleepily home. Yes, lavender definitely makes you drowsy!
Tuesday, August 31, 2021
Up that hill again (I suppose I'll miss you, Gipsy Hill!) for the final day at One Cat Studios, a day of mixing, and by some miracle recording a Christmas song for the WIAIWYA Christmas compilation album. The mixing was fine-tuning really, and both me and Robert had made the same notes about what needed to be done to make the tracks sparkle. The day involved a lot of concentrated listening, but was really pleasurable nonetheless.
I've just managed to put a non-distorted bass line on a song in the kitchen today, which is a weight off my shoulders. I have been having bad dreams at night, which I think were associated with a seemingly unsolvable problem which has solved itself. Groovy, baby! Now I'm going to have a couple of days ears-rest before resuming the solo album: I think I'm going to try some vocals before the autumn bugs kick in that strangle my vocal chords and, in combination with 'teacher's voice', take all the bounce out of my singing.
Alas, I have had to decide not to take to the stage with the Loud Women crew to join a mass sing-in of Reclaim These Streets at the Loud Women Fest in September. I have three gigs the following weekend, the first ones for months, and just too many people have come down with Covid in the last week. Even the double-vaccinated people have been really ill, and the non-vaccinated even more so. I have had the jab but I can't risk singing in a group. It was such an exciting thought that I said 'yes' to straight away, but the virus is just getting too close to home. The Preston Pop Fest seems to have resulted in a lot of infections too- and that's on top of the other people that I know. I think it's back to being very, very cautious- so I want to teach online again this year. I have no idea whether that is going to happen.