Princess Ida

Last Saturday on a rare excursion to the Thorndyke Theatre at Leatherhead, a place which really was a theatre when we first moved to Epsom (we once had Sir P. Hall himself climb on stage to apologise in person for an underdone rendition of Hamlet (featuring a naked Hamlet at one point)), to see Princess Ida put on by the Godalming Operatic Society, a society which has managed to put on a G&S show every year since 1925, excepting only the war years. A big star in the G&S firmament. Not quite sure how the Gosport Amateur Operatic Society - which we know rather more about - rates in comparison, but they do compare to the extent that in each case a long serving member has written the book of the society.

Off to a good start as the seats have been upgraded since we were last there. In the olden days one sat on rather thin cushions sat on concrete benches, a sort of concrete replica of a classical open theatre. I wonder whether the ancient Greeks took their own cushions or whether they were supplied by the management?

Then we found ourselves sitting next to a contingent from Golders Green who were able to add spice to the performance in the form of G&S gossip.

The performance itself was a very polished affair. Costumes, for example, all very grand. Golders Green said that they would all have been hired, far too grand for an amateur costume department: another major expense along with that of hiring the music and hiring the venue. Rather more people to it than Carmen (see 28th February) and with a different mix, maybe 30 in the orchestra and 40 in the cast. A rather silly story poking gentle fun at the womens' rights movement of the middle of the 19th century - but with a properly male ending, with most of the womens' libbers dumping liberation in favour of men. Moderately good fun, but in the end rather flat and banal; I imagine that rather more fun was had from the production than from the consumption - but good luck to them. I dare say we shall go to their next effort - much better suited to our purse than Traviata at the Garden at £150 and more a pop and about which someone thought it worth sending me an email yesterday. Which, given that we would want to stay over after such a thing, would take the outing as a whole to around £500 - which for us, is not worth it by a long chalk. But I do wonder for whom it is worthwhile? What are such people like, where do they come from? Is is the sort of thing that ageing footballers go in for? Is was the sort of thing that the Czech pub keeper for whom I used to work used to take his wife to - then a small but busy Courage pub handy to both meat market and Bart's and which is now sadly decayed from the glory days when he had it, when, inter alia, the masons used to meet Tuesdays in an upper room.

Then last night we had a go at the second of the recent Lancelot bottles, this one from the Domaines Schlumberger in Alsace, something called Kessler 2006, another gewürztraminer. Apart from the cork, which went back into the bottle rather more easily than one thought proper, despite having an additional wax seal poured over the top of the cork, it was very good, but I am starting to wonder why one buys such stuff. Why does one spend £20 at Lancelot rather than £10 at Waitrose? I hope there is more to it than putting up a marker for how much I can afford to pour down the drain. Or is it that I am morphing into an armchair boozer? In any event, you can read all about it for yourself at http://www.domaines-schlumberger.com/gewurztraminer-grand-cru-kessler-2006 and make your own mind up.

But this morning a moan. For some reason I needed to remind myself about 'et in arcadio ego'. I ask blogger search about 'arcadio' and get nothing. I ask my backup copy in word and get 12th November 2013. I then ask blogger search about 'et in arcadio ego' and get the right answer. While all google search tells me is that this phrase is much used by other bloggers and which should be spelled with arcadia not arcadio. Spelling never was my strong point. But I have learned that Arcadia is a real place in both ancient & modern Greece.