Mostly new to me

Last week to St. Luke's again, to hear a programme from which two of the three items were new to me. There was also a short encore, but I cannot now remember what it was, never mind whether it was new to me. But I did like it.

The ramp at Waterloo Station had been resupplied after the rush hour by the time I got there, around 1200. Stamford Street not too bad, but Farringdon Road very cluttered up with what looked to be the building of a new north bound cycle way. Another few million splashed out on us cyclists.

Roscoe Street full when I got there, but there was a Chinook flying east, somewhere over London Bridge. Back to Finsbury Leisure Centre to drop the Bullingdon, then back to Whitecross Street, the full stand at Roscoe perhaps costing me around 10 minutes of my valuable time. Must be more of a pain for a holiday maker who does not know the area.

Still with two young waitresses at the Market Restaurant, one the same, but one from a new country, so they were not so easily able to chatter in the inevitable intervals between serving. Pleased to report that my bacon sandwich was back to its usual high standard. No problem with the bread.

Must be getting capital sensitive, as I went on to admire those of the two pilasters which flanked what had been the altar, while waiting for the off at St. Luke's. Not the flashy Corinthian jobs of St. John's (see reference 4), but a handsome bit of stone detailing just the same. It also struck me that the rather bulbous steel pillars, of a cut fashionable twenty years ago but now a little dated, were not really holding up the roof at all, despite appearances, they were not making contact with it in a weight bearing way. But they were holding up the balconies, so they were not just a bit of expensive décor. However, while I do not approve of such gross departure of structure from function as a matter of principle, I had better take another look before condemning them. The illustrations offered by google are not very good, but they serve to give the general idea. See next post.

I liked the Suk, from whom I have at least one record, unplayed, was good. The meditation on an old Bohemian chorale. Janáček's String Quartet No.2 (Intimate Letters), like the Kreutzer of the week before, as good and as fresh as new. The cello - the chap with the diagonal cut to his tail piece (see reference 1) - told us that the piece really was keyed to letters written to the composers young muse while he was writing it. He also told us about the eastern tinge to the Fisher String Quartet No.1 which followed, contrasting with the western, not to say German, tinge of most Czech music, that is to say from Prague and the west of the country. It struck me how quaint and amusing other people's little nationalisms were - in contrast to one's own, which were just an expensive nuisance. I liked the Fisher quartet, despite it being unusual for me to like contemporary music, Kurtág being the exception which proves the rule, but I am not sure it would wear very well, being, to my mind, more a medley than a proper composition.

Pulled a second Bullingdon from the leisure centre for the trip home, to find Farringdon Road in an even worse state. And, unusually, a van on the city side of Blackfriars Bridge with bad manners vis-á-vis cyclists, that is to say me. He would not give way when he might have done, leaving me stranded in the middle of the road. Turned out OK in the end as I was turning right on the other side of the bridge. And my once favourite building looking rather well in the cold winter light. See reference 2.

For once in a while took an Upper Crust sandwich at Waterloo Station, to be reminded that while their rolls remain good, their fillings are not so good. In this case an inferior cheese, probably processed bought ready sliced, tomato and, quite wrongly for this particular filling, mayo. But quite eatable and I managed to get nearly all of it down before I had to board my train. I should add that I finished it by the door, before I sat down in front of someone who might not care for the sights and sounds of my munching. See reference 3 for my regular thoughts on the subject of eating on trains.

Loud discussion from a young mixed pair of flat sharers on the train to Epsom about shared kitchen manners, something which was clearly a bit of an issue in their flat. This became quite tiresome after a while but at least they did not get onto bathroom manners which would probably have been a lot worse.

PS: I read somewhere recently that the ancient history of western Europe was one of wave after wave of invaders heading west, pushing the lot before them, at least the ones who did not cooperate and inter-breed, into the sea. Just a matter of luck who ends up on the western periphery, that is to say Galway (and the Arran islanders who used to scratch a precarious living out of basking sharks), at any particular time. Which to my mind, rather takes the wind out of the Celtic sails.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/back-on-bullingdon.html.

Reference 2: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/exciting-building.html.

Reference 3: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/master-builder.html.

Reference 4: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2015/11/jerusalem.html.

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