Affair with Brahms concluded

On the 9th May I went to Cambridge to hear an Endellion flavoured version of the Brahms Piano Quartet No. 1.

On Sunday to St. John's Smith Square to hear the London Soloists Ensemble do it, together with a Mozart trio for clarinet, viola & piano (K498) and a Vaughan Willams piano quartet in C minor. Mozart good, Vaughan Williams interesting. Memory faulty in that I thought that the ceiling of this baroque church, restored in the sixties after bomb damage in the forties, had been picked out in blue and gold paint. In the event, a handsome church, but no blue or gold paint whatsoever, and the church seemed oddly dated compared with the much more recently converted St. Luke's, although the two places function in much the same way, complete with restaurants in both crypts.

Brahms good, with the Ensemble giving it a different flavour than that of the Endellions. A more relaxed rendering, loose even, perhaps reflecting their being more used to ensemble playing in varying ensembles than to quartet playing. An up side was that the piano fitted in rather than dominated, although this may have been more to do with sitting in the middle of the hall rather than right at the front than with the piano playing. A down side was that the triumph of the opening of the fourth movement was still missing.

Thought to try the cake shop (the former burlesque house) somewhere near Glasshouse Street in Vauxhall but found that the cake shop was full of the mayor in full fig and the whole area full of gay picnic. Tried the Madeira Café round the corner and that was full of people in traditional costume. So settled for getting the train home.

I think I can say that the affair with this particular piece of music is concluded, although I dare say I will go again if I should happen to notice one.

And this morning concluded my touching base with Evelyn Waugh, an author I have not read for many years. Not even watched an adaptation on telly. The occasion was BH reading about a travel book called 'Labels' in a travel book by Paul Theroux, a travel writer of whom she is fond. I read once that Evelyn was so disliked by the other ranks when he was in the army that he had to have a guard posted outside his tent and reading this book I think I can see why. That said, the chap must have been able to be good company when he chose as he seems to be able to pick up with people on his travels readily enough. And that said, I dare say a writer could fake well enough to pad out his solo wanderings for the purposes of his travelogue.

I suspect that whoever does the stage management for the Poirot adaptations involving cruise ships must have read it and I offer one snippet. That there was a giant exhibition in the early part of the 20th century in Seville, complete with fun fair, the buildings for which were destined to be a university and almost deserted on the day that Evelyn visited. Still there and looks well worth a visit to judge from Wikipedia.