Off to a bad start as it was raining and the trains were having difficulties, with the Waterloo train being cancelled on the indicator boards and then reinstated by oral announcement. We took a chance on it - rather than take an even bigger chance on a Southern train - to get stuck in the Wimbledon area, amid talk of signalling problems, clearly of some duration. We took the management decision to take our picnic on the train, despite my disapproval of eating on trains, a decision which turned out to be the right one, as we arrived at Waterloo getting on for half an hour late.
Rather a noisy and tiresome busker somewhere on the concourse. Then nearer the QEH, a fire alarm, complete with fire engine - reminding us that the main hall in the QEH is a slow place to get out of. Nearer still, a couple of very highly dressed young females, complete with very short skirts and very high heels. BH offered the irreverent suggestion that perhaps the new model QEH was going to offer strippers in the interval.
Into the QEH, to find that what had been the cloakroom was now the bar, and that that the cloakroom had been sent downstairs to what was not much more than a cupboard by the side entrance. Cheerfully attended, but the attendants could have done with a bit more experience. The maintenance state of the toilets was not great either.
But a plus was absence of buskers or any other music in the antechamber. We could sip our Picpoul in peace - a wine which has made large inroads into metropolitan bars in recent years.
On into a reasonably full chamber, including plenty of wheelchair action, to what was for me a disappointing Piano Quartet, a piece I usually rise to. The trouble seemed to be that the sound was hogged by the young man on the piano (Benjamin Grosvenor) and a lot of the time I could not hear the strings at all, despite being able to see them loud and clear. I don't think that this was all the fault of my ears and we thought maybe this was one of the downsides of hearing a group of soloists, that is to say prima donnas, playing chamber music. Not used to being part of a team.
The next two pieces much better, and I was very taken with the Notturno, but then the Trout disappointed in a different way, despite there being a lot of fine passages, with the strings coming through OK. I thought that this one was down to us, down to the programme being too long, with two substantial pieces in addition to the two stocking fillers.
We had a serious musician next to us, who had trained at KCL and was perhaps retired from professional choral work. Presently with a choir which did things in cathedrals. We learned along the way that the other King's College Chapel was a tricky place for choirs because of the way the sound resonated, was sustained after it should, ideally, have stopped. He then spent the first few minutes of each piece writing copious notes in his programme, for transmission to a friend's blog is due course, a little irritating to be next to. I associate to: 'A chiel's amang you taking notes'. Otherwise, both interesting and entertaining.
The page turner, an older gentleman, was familiar. Perhaps he is a regular turner at the Wigmore Hall. A page turner who for some reason reminded me of that star of ITV3 murder mysteries, the late Benjamin Whitrow. A chap who, as it happens, made a posthumous appearance yesterday.
There was a complaint about a drip from the roof onto a seat in row BB. Occupant relocated.
South Western Railway behaved itself on our way home.
PS: the usual small prize is offered to the first translation, with adequate notes for guidance, of the poem illustrated.
Reference 1: http://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.com/search?q=yau+clement. Notice of the metropolitan version of King's College Chapel.
Reference 2: http://nicks-classical-notes.blogspot.com/2018/05/effortlessly-high-class-schubert-and.html. Possibly the product of the irritating note taking noticed above. At least it has the merit of being hosted on this very platform. Turned up by Google but not by Bing.
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