Opted for the Green Park route on Saturday, the better to see the pretty people of Mayfair, and had time for a quick visit to the 'Running Horse' in Davies Street, we were treated to, in addition to our respectable white wine, a tepid pork pie, hand crafted on the premises. Rather good it was too. Pretty people represented by a party of four, done up in full formal party gear, mainly black, despite the early hour. We spent a happy five minutes speculating whether a rather flashy necklace was just flash or the real thing.
On arrival at the Wigmore we were entertained by the middle-aged lady behind us explaining how naff the twin flower arrangements flanking the stage were. Mainly composed of green and two sorts of large red flowers they did not, it seems, have enough colour contrast, despite looking OK to our untutored eyes.
The Shostakovich was good but oddly more modern sounding than three of his later quartets which we had heard on or about 30th April. Webern very modern but oddly good in this small dose. An excellent amuse-bouche to place between the two courses of substance. Beethoven very much up to standard and I wondered afterwards whether I would be moved to read the book of the quartet - Point Counter Point - again. This morning, I think not, it all looks a bit dated, this despite having read it happily enough not that long ago, in both 2008 and 2010 (see the other place).
Being the occasion of the presentation of Gold Medals to the members of the quartet, we were treated to a free, decent if not good, glass of wine in the interval and two speeches at the end, speeches which were not too long and were well pitched to the occasion, not bad at all for people who were not professional speakers.
On exit we were entertained by a very striking window display of fishes at Pull & Bear (http://www.pullandbear.com/), not least by a shark which swam into view towards the end of our visit, occupying pretty much the whole of the bottom of the window display. And then by a party bus, seemingly full of squealing young women. Why on earth would one want to spend an evening being driven around London in a blacked out double decker bus?
Rather wet on Monday so thought it better to pass the 'Running Horse' up and get a bit closer to the Hall before it started raining again, ducking instead into a quietish but very much open Debenham's (this ebing around 1900) to use their excellent facilities, a visit which caused me to wonder how much different it must have looked before what I imagine was the large light well was filled up with escalators. I also came across a quietish but comfortable looking coffee/cake/wine lounge in the sub-ground and I made a point to visit it when I had more time.
They still had the same flowers at the Hall, with the large red lilies now opening, but instead of a middle-aged lady declaiming behind us about the flowers, I had a middle-aged lady commenting on her misfortune in being sat behind three large gentlemen, of which I was one, largely blocking her view. She did not, however, take advantage of the three empty seats - in a house which was otherwise pretty much full - in front of me after the interval so it can't have been that much of a problem. The large & important looking gentleman next to me found it necessary to consult his telephone at regular intervals, but at least he was careful to make sure the sound was off when he put it away during the music.
Excellent programme again, although the Shostakovich piano quintet has, sadly, lost a lot of its once consdierable power over me. But still good and Op. 127 was really good; a masterwork from the master. Struck by how different the cello sounded in the first half than it had a few days earlier. Were the accoustics such that sitting in the left hand aisle a few rows back from the centre stalls we had had those few days earlier made all the difference? Nipped across to what had been the Pelican Bar at the interval, it being near & quiet enough to make this a better option than waiting in line downstairs at the Wigmore. Afterwards, crossed Oxford Street to be disappointed by Pull & Bear at close quarters, the screens making up the aquarium being a bit grainy at that range.
On the way home the doors nearest me failed to open at Stoneleigh, much to the annoyance of a young lady who had hoped to get off there. I might have offered her a taxi had she waited until Epsom, but she elected to get off at Ewell East, presumably to walk back to Stoneleigh from there, there not being much in the way of taxis. Perhaps she knew how to summon one with her tablet - the owning of which would have suggested that she should not need me to stump up the taxi fare.
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