On West Hill we noticed that the plastic blind squares were looking pretty ragged and chunks were starting to go missing. A bit less than a year since they were laid. See reference 2 for a near contemporary notice.
While at the station approach we thought that the young mountain ash trees were looking a bit stressed. No-one had thought to water them during the long dry spell.
But cheered up by the pretty sky and excellent viewing conditions at Clapham Junction, where, sitting in the train, I was able to score two two's at the aeroplane game.
Arrived at the Hall in time to snap the art noticed at reference 1 from a different angle and in a different light.
Then to buy a programme, to be slowed down by a large gent. who wanted a receipt for his, presumably either because he was at work and wanted to claim it on expenses or because he could claim it as a business expense, and so tax deductible. It was a fat and informative programme, for the series rather than the day, and rather expensive at £4. Nevertheless, such claims have always struck me as rather mean spirited, particularly from people who do not look short of the odd £4, but it is, of course, their right and privilege, just as voters have the right and privilege to vote for the wrong things.
Further annoyed by the level of noise in the concourse area, seemingly augmented by unseen but free acts, we supposed slightly posher versions of the sort of thing with which they messed up the much smaller concourse area of the Queen Elizabeth Hall in its closing years.
And so into the hall itself, to be greeted by some splendid wooden chairs lined up at the front of the stage, very African junk yard in flavour and probably made for the occasion. A reminder of the dark roots of the civilisation of the Greeks, one aspect of which was pointed up in a famous if erroneous book by Martin Bernal, sometime expert on Chinese history and son of the famous left-wing crystallographer. The chairs mostly had feet and were otherwise vaguely human in form, so we had the solists, when off duty, sitting in the lap of the gods. From where I associated to the seated statues of gods which the ancient Egyptians went in for. Is this where the well-known phrase comes from?
Both halves of the concert were very good, helped along by excellent music and movement from the choir, appropriately in the choir stalls at the back. Smart casual uniforms, in various shades of blue. Unusually, the choir was all mixed up, and the different voices and sexes were not segregated in the usual way. Did that make things harder for them? Was it a custom of this particular director or conductor? Terrific sense of impending doom throughout the first half, a real tragic hero, tangled up in uncaring fate. From a time when a casual killing at a cross-roads was not particularly heinous, unless the victim happened to be one's father. (I have a strong visual memory of such a killing, in ancient Greek clothes, but I cannot now think from where it came, beyond a feeling that it was a film rather than a stage. Blog only owning up to the complex. Maybe it will come back to me).
Afterwards, we wondered whether it would have been better if the shepherds had kept their mouths shuts, if the truth had not come out and Oedipus could have carried on. He was, after all, a good king, a good thing. But perhaps the deeper truth was that his subjects needed a sacrifice so that they could cope with, give meaning to the tragedy of the plague, and what better sacrifice than the king? A custom documented at great length in Fraser's 'Golden Bough' and carried on to this day in our media executions of unlucky members of the great and the good.
The translation of the Latin words was displayed at the top of the stage, which was helpful, although we were too close to the stage to see the English words without swivelling the eyes, if not the head, up. Still not sure what the best solution to this one is.
Emily Barber is an actress and did rather well as the narrator, with a nice line in solicitude for the tragic king, known to some, but not to me for her work in 'The Arrival' (2016), 'The Importance of Being Earnest' (2015) and 'Burger' (2013). Laurel Jenkins is a Los Angeles based choreographer and dancer who did rather well at adding a bit of colour & feeling to the proceedings. Both ladies being nicely decked out in thin blue gowns, matching the choir and very Greek in flavour.
While I enjoyed - not quite the right word, but I can think of no better - the music, there was rather a lot going on, with at least half a dozen places for the eyes and attention to come to rest on. I am used to chamber music which has a much tighter focus and one is not glancing from place to place to keep track of everything that is going on, at least not to anything like the same extent. I expect that, going forward, we shall stick to chamber; too old now for new tricks.
Notwithstanding, an excellent outing, albeit unusual for us.
PS: I think there were three pianos on the stage, but I was not aware of any piano noise dring the proceedings. Must have been too busy elsewhere.
Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/08/art.html.
Reference 2: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2016/01/poor-detailing.html.
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