As I'm on holiday, I took advantage of the chance to go an see the new film "The Butler" at the Coronet in Notting Hill Gate, It felt a little bit strange to be going to the cinema on a weekday afternoon, but that is one of the advantages of being on holiday. The Coronet has special prices for matinees - £4,50 instead of £7.30. Not as good as the special Tuesday prices, but still better than the evening ones.
"The Butler" tells the story of Cecil Gaines, who having been born on a cotton farm in the South, moves north as a young man and gets job as a butler at the White House, serving under no less than eight presidents.
Forest Whitaker gives a superb performance as a man proud of his job and with a real dedication to providing the best service possible to the most powerful men in the world. He is a servant, but not subservient; he knows his job back to front, and enjoys providing an impeccable service.
There are ups and downs in his home life, as well as the constant changes at work as presidents come and go, including one of his his son's involvement with the Black Panthers; as a butler at the White House, he is apolitical, and does not get involved in the civil rights movement which was taking place throughout so much of his tenure. He was proud that his other son served in Vietnam, saddened by hsi death in action.
It is only at the end, when he has left his job at the White House, that he becomes involved politically, campaigning for his son, now older and wiser, in bis bid to become senator.
Forest Whitaker looked the part of the very formal butler, but the various presidents and their wives are also well cast,particularly the Kennedys.
Altogether an excellent film - well shot, well- scripted and well cast.
Monday, 30 December 2013
Saturday, 28 December 2013
Georgian Exhibition
Another great exhibition, this time at the British Library. Entitled "Georgians Revealed. Life, Style and the Making of Modern Britain", it looks at life in Britain during the reigns of the first court Georges - from the non-English speaking George 1 to the dissolute George IV.
What were the Georgians Like? As the exhibition suggests, depending on your point of view, they could be described as tasteful and polite, or riotous and pleasure-obsessed - the reality was they they were probably both
Life in Georgian times was as varied as it is now. There were the super rich - although probably nothing to compare with the fabulous riches of oil sheiks and oligarchs today. There were those further down the scale, especially the ones who aspired to better things. And right at the bottom there were the destitute for whom survival itself was a struggle.
But it was also a time for culture. Museums and art galleries were founded and there was a wide acceptance of the need for giving to charity - many modern day charities began life in this period.
What were the Georgians Like? As the exhibition suggests, depending on your point of view, they could be described as tasteful and polite, or riotous and pleasure-obsessed - the reality was they they were probably both
Life in Georgian times was as varied as it is now. There were the super rich - although probably nothing to compare with the fabulous riches of oil sheiks and oligarchs today. There were those further down the scale, especially the ones who aspired to better things. And right at the bottom there were the destitute for whom survival itself was a struggle.
There were cast changes in the lives of those with at least some money in the period covered, 1714 - 1830. The industrial revolution completely changed society; people moved in large numbers to the towns, men became rich through trade and there was a growing class of people with new money who aspired to join the aristocracy. Things that we take for granted now, like drinking tea, reading magazines, dancing, gardening and shopping for pleasure all developed in this period; those who had money wanted everyone to know that they could afford to live well and furnish their houses in the latest fashion. Clothes were no longer just to keep warm, but to show off as well.
But it was also a time for culture. Museums and art galleries were founded and there was a wide acceptance of the need for giving to charity - many modern day charities began life in this period.
It was also time for debate - coffee houses were very popular meeting places for men to discuss new ideas, and with the rise of mass communication via books and pamphlets there was plenty to discuss.
The British Library has drawn on a wide range of items from their collection to put on this exhibition, from paintings of the four Georges and other notable Georgian figures, to musical instruments of the period, books, maps, clothes and even advertisements of the time, which give a good indication of popular items for spending money on.
Friday, 27 December 2013
Cheapside Hoard
The latest special exhibition at the British Museum - the Cheapside Hoard - which fr0m the publicity seemed well worth going to see. And I was not disappointed!
The hoard was discovered by some workmen in 1912, buried in a cellar under a house in Cheapside, where it had lain undisturbed since the mid 17th century. Although some items had been displayed previously, this was the first time that the entire collection had been put on display, and such is the value of the exhibits, everyone had to leave all bags and coats in a locker in the cloakroom - for which one had to pay a non-refundable fee of £1.
The hoard itself consists of hundreds of items, beautifully crafted and all very expensive - whoever owned it must have been a very wealthy man (or woman) indeed. But no evidence has ever emerged as to who buried this huge collection of jewellery and other precious items, and no-one has ever come forward to lay a claim to it. Who owned the house when it was buried is no longer known - but even that may not have been any use in establishing ownership, as it could well have been buried by someone who did not live there. Also, there is no indication of the exact date, except for an inscription on one item, that shows it was later, if I remember correctly, than 1640.
But those were troublesome times, with the Civil War engaging large numbers of people, general unrest, and much disruption to ordinary life. A short film puts forward a possible suggesting scenario for their burying in the cellar. A wealthy man buried all the family treasure in the cellar of a neighbouring house, but for security reasons does not tell anyone of its whereabouts. His wife contacts him to find out where the treasure is, as she is destitute; he sends a message that there is no need to give her details, as he is on his way home. But he dies before arrival, so his widow is left destitute, with not a clue as to where her husband had hidden the jewellery. Fiction, but possibly very near the truth - if anyone had had any inkling as to the size of the treasure and that it was hidden in a cellar in Cheapside, they would certainly have attempted to find it.
As it is, it is we who today have the pleasure of being able to see and admire the exquisite workmanship, for which the Museum kindly provides magnifying glasses - it is impossible to appreciate the degree of craftsmanship involved in many of the pieces with the naked eye.
The Cheapside Hoard is well worth a visit - but one needs to leave plenty of time. There is just so much to see one needs a whole afternoon rather than just an hour or so.
The hoard was discovered by some workmen in 1912, buried in a cellar under a house in Cheapside, where it had lain undisturbed since the mid 17th century. Although some items had been displayed previously, this was the first time that the entire collection had been put on display, and such is the value of the exhibits, everyone had to leave all bags and coats in a locker in the cloakroom - for which one had to pay a non-refundable fee of £1.
The hoard itself consists of hundreds of items, beautifully crafted and all very expensive - whoever owned it must have been a very wealthy man (or woman) indeed. But no evidence has ever emerged as to who buried this huge collection of jewellery and other precious items, and no-one has ever come forward to lay a claim to it. Who owned the house when it was buried is no longer known - but even that may not have been any use in establishing ownership, as it could well have been buried by someone who did not live there. Also, there is no indication of the exact date, except for an inscription on one item, that shows it was later, if I remember correctly, than 1640.
But those were troublesome times, with the Civil War engaging large numbers of people, general unrest, and much disruption to ordinary life. A short film puts forward a possible suggesting scenario for their burying in the cellar. A wealthy man buried all the family treasure in the cellar of a neighbouring house, but for security reasons does not tell anyone of its whereabouts. His wife contacts him to find out where the treasure is, as she is destitute; he sends a message that there is no need to give her details, as he is on his way home. But he dies before arrival, so his widow is left destitute, with not a clue as to where her husband had hidden the jewellery. Fiction, but possibly very near the truth - if anyone had had any inkling as to the size of the treasure and that it was hidden in a cellar in Cheapside, they would certainly have attempted to find it.
As it is, it is we who today have the pleasure of being able to see and admire the exquisite workmanship, for which the Museum kindly provides magnifying glasses - it is impossible to appreciate the degree of craftsmanship involved in many of the pieces with the naked eye.
The Cheapside Hoard is well worth a visit - but one needs to leave plenty of time. There is just so much to see one needs a whole afternoon rather than just an hour or so.
Sunday, 22 December 2013
Christmas Carol Service
Another carol service, this time at St. Andrew's, Fulham Fields, so within walking distance, although there is a bus which halves the journey time. I got the bus there, but walked back afterwards.
St. Andrew's is quite a lively church, with a lot of social activities going on, such as songs and stories for children followed by refreshments and lunch on Wednesday mornings, and a homeless project on Saturday mornings. They are very much a community church, with a lot of outreach activities.
The church itself has been extensively refurbished, so that the back is now taken up with a kitchen and serving area, which can be screened off if required. There are no kneelers in the pews, so they obviously don't go in much for kneeling during their services.
There are two other clergy as well as the vicar, the curate being the Rev. Lesley Bilinia, whose arrival was reported in the local paper - she was previously married to an African who died - or was killed - I can't remember which. Anyway, that's where her unusual name comes from. I was speaking to her later, and she seemed very pleasant and cheery.
The service was the usual nine lessons and carols, with the carols being lead by a large robed choir. The first two verses of "Once in royal" were sung by a soloist and then the choir, before they processed from a side chapel into the choir stalls.
A number of people did the readings, which were all very clear, since they have a microphone on the lectern.
Not that they would have needed to shout to make themselves heard, even if there hadn't been one - the area now used as a church is fairly small compared to its original length.
In addition to leading the congregational singing, the choir also sang a large number of pieces on their own - virtually all familiar one, which was rather nice. After all, it is a carol service for the congregation as well as the choir, and it's nice to listen to things that are familiar and you know won't grate on your ears, as some modern works do, with their lack of predictability.
I found myself sitting next to our local MP, whom I'd always thought was an atheist - though the fact that he was attending a carol service probably doesn't indicate anything about his beliefs these days. If they get invited to something like that, they go, like Nick Clegg or Ed Milliband. No refusing because it's against their conscience to sing carols and say prayers they don't believe in.
The church was quite full, with a lot of hearty singers in addition to the chair - most people seemed to be joining in. There were quite a number of families there, with small children, and provision had been made to keep them occupied at one side, under the supervision of some adults - I recognised one of the supervising adults, who apparently is a regular attender at that church. I also saw several other people that I knew, and that I didn't know went there - it's a small world.
After the service there was mulled wine and mince pies - Mr. Kiplings or Mr. Tesco's, rather than
home-made, but delicious all the same. And the mulled wine I suspect also came ready-made in a bottle. Actually, shop-bought mulled wine is very good, and much better than my attempts to make it myself, though the home-made mulled wine that I had one year at the Dicken's Museum in Doughty Street was the most delicious I have ever tasted. I asked for the recipe, but my efforts weren't remotely as good.
St. Andrew's is quite a lively church, with a lot of social activities going on, such as songs and stories for children followed by refreshments and lunch on Wednesday mornings, and a homeless project on Saturday mornings. They are very much a community church, with a lot of outreach activities.
The church itself has been extensively refurbished, so that the back is now taken up with a kitchen and serving area, which can be screened off if required. There are no kneelers in the pews, so they obviously don't go in much for kneeling during their services.
There are two other clergy as well as the vicar, the curate being the Rev. Lesley Bilinia, whose arrival was reported in the local paper - she was previously married to an African who died - or was killed - I can't remember which. Anyway, that's where her unusual name comes from. I was speaking to her later, and she seemed very pleasant and cheery.
The service was the usual nine lessons and carols, with the carols being lead by a large robed choir. The first two verses of "Once in royal" were sung by a soloist and then the choir, before they processed from a side chapel into the choir stalls.
A number of people did the readings, which were all very clear, since they have a microphone on the lectern.
Not that they would have needed to shout to make themselves heard, even if there hadn't been one - the area now used as a church is fairly small compared to its original length.
In addition to leading the congregational singing, the choir also sang a large number of pieces on their own - virtually all familiar one, which was rather nice. After all, it is a carol service for the congregation as well as the choir, and it's nice to listen to things that are familiar and you know won't grate on your ears, as some modern works do, with their lack of predictability.
I found myself sitting next to our local MP, whom I'd always thought was an atheist - though the fact that he was attending a carol service probably doesn't indicate anything about his beliefs these days. If they get invited to something like that, they go, like Nick Clegg or Ed Milliband. No refusing because it's against their conscience to sing carols and say prayers they don't believe in.
The church was quite full, with a lot of hearty singers in addition to the chair - most people seemed to be joining in. There were quite a number of families there, with small children, and provision had been made to keep them occupied at one side, under the supervision of some adults - I recognised one of the supervising adults, who apparently is a regular attender at that church. I also saw several other people that I knew, and that I didn't know went there - it's a small world.
After the service there was mulled wine and mince pies - Mr. Kiplings or Mr. Tesco's, rather than
home-made, but delicious all the same. And the mulled wine I suspect also came ready-made in a bottle. Actually, shop-bought mulled wine is very good, and much better than my attempts to make it myself, though the home-made mulled wine that I had one year at the Dicken's Museum in Doughty Street was the most delicious I have ever tasted. I asked for the recipe, but my efforts weren't remotely as good.
South Bank
After lunch with a friend at the cafe downstairs at Westminster Cathedral - their menu is limited, but they serve excellent scrambled egg on toast - we went to the South Bank. There was a short opera workshop going on when we arrived, which we joined in, and then wandered along the South Bank, looking at all the stalls, which are all a bit like German chalets, and were selling a wide variety of items - trinkets, clothing, fast food, chocolates, jewellery and much more.
It was very, very crowded - far too crowded to enjoy being there with anyone, as you were constantly in danger of losing them if you were not careful.
But there was a jolly atmosphere there - everyone seemed happy, with lots of talking and taking pictures. The weather was fairly mild for the end of December, and although it rained later, it wasn't heavy.
It was very, very crowded - far too crowded to enjoy being there with anyone, as you were constantly in danger of losing them if you were not careful.
But there was a jolly atmosphere there - everyone seemed happy, with lots of talking and taking pictures. The weather was fairly mild for the end of December, and although it rained later, it wasn't heavy.
Saturday, 21 December 2013
Regent's Hall cafe
The listings in the local paper had said that there was a concert on at 1.00 p.m. at the Salvation Army's Regent Hall in Oxford Street, so I thought I'd go along - their bands are always so jolly and cheerful, and if there is one thing the Salvation Army do well - apart from all their welfare work - it is sing and play music.
However, when I got there, I found the concerts weren't taking place over Christmas, so I decided to have lunch in their little cafe before going home. The menu isn't huge, but they do have a variety of omelettes with salad - not the usual type of omelettes you get in cafes, but little round ones with, in my case, cheese inside and also on top. Really delicious, and the salad,, apart from the cucumber which I don't like was equally nice, and of course, very healthy. They also do things like sandwiches and jacket potatoes, and a selection of cakes.
The cafe is tucked away inside, and isn't really promoted, but it well worth a visit if you're feeling peckish when shopping in Oxford Street.
However, when I got there, I found the concerts weren't taking place over Christmas, so I decided to have lunch in their little cafe before going home. The menu isn't huge, but they do have a variety of omelettes with salad - not the usual type of omelettes you get in cafes, but little round ones with, in my case, cheese inside and also on top. Really delicious, and the salad,, apart from the cucumber which I don't like was equally nice, and of course, very healthy. They also do things like sandwiches and jacket potatoes, and a selection of cakes.
The cafe is tucked away inside, and isn't really promoted, but it well worth a visit if you're feeling peckish when shopping in Oxford Street.
Friday, 20 December 2013
A Family in Wartime
The Imperial War Museum is due to close for refurbishment on 6th January 2014 and not re-opening until the summer, and I'd noticed that they currently have an exhibition on entitled Horrible Histories - Spies. So I decided to go and see it while I had the chance.
The main entrance was closed, with a gentleman on the door directing everyone to a side entrance - a lot of work is already being done, and only a small part of the museum is still open.
When I went to get a ticket for the Horrible Histories - Spies exhibition, the assistant said it was really aimed at children, and perhaps I might like the other exhibition they had on, called A Family in Wartime. So I went to see that instead.
A Family in Wartime looks at the war through the lives of the Allpress Family of Priory Road, Stockwell - a large working class family with ten children, all of whom were very much part of the war effort, from fire spotting to making healthy meals from rationed food and in the case of one of the boys, being evacuated to the country.
It uses interviews, posters, films from the cinema at the time, photographs and paintings to present a picture of life in those years. when families had to cope not just with the threat of bombs, but also rationing, the black-out, shortages of basic items, and of course, the general disruption which results from being at war.
But several things come through very clearly. Although by modern standards life was very basic - for instance, their house had no electricity - everyone coped and was still able to enjoy life. All the adults, except for one daughter who had heart problems, and of course, the mother who had a full time role running the home, had a job, whether in shops or factories, or in the case of Mr. Allpress, on the railways. They were very much a working family.
Another thing which struck me was the size of their house, a model of which formed part of the exhibition.. Mr. Allpress had a very ordinary job, and obviously did not earn a very high wage. But the family lived in a four bedroom terraced house with a garden at the back. It may, like many houses at the time, have lacked electricity and a bathroom - but at the same time there was enough space for the whole family, even if some bedrooms had bunk beds. No-one working on the railways today could possibly afford to live in a house like that, except by claiming Housing Benefit, which did not exist in the 1940s.
A further thing which I noticed was the size of the meals. One of the questions asked was what the people had to eat in those days, and the window showed a picture of a typical plate. There were portions of everything you would expect - potatoes, carrots, meat - but the portions were far, far smaller than would be served up today. No wonder the people were so slim compared to nowadays!
Also, the voice of Betty, the eldest daughter who talked about things like making do and mending - no rough South London accent, but a very pleasant and clear voice which was a joy to listen to. They may have been very much a working class family, but they were well spoken, albeit not posh speaking.
Finally, there was the impression of a community which was united in fighting against Hitler - the Allpresses involved themselves in the war effort and their quiet patriotism was obvious.
The main entrance was closed, with a gentleman on the door directing everyone to a side entrance - a lot of work is already being done, and only a small part of the museum is still open.
When I went to get a ticket for the Horrible Histories - Spies exhibition, the assistant said it was really aimed at children, and perhaps I might like the other exhibition they had on, called A Family in Wartime. So I went to see that instead.
A Family in Wartime looks at the war through the lives of the Allpress Family of Priory Road, Stockwell - a large working class family with ten children, all of whom were very much part of the war effort, from fire spotting to making healthy meals from rationed food and in the case of one of the boys, being evacuated to the country.
It uses interviews, posters, films from the cinema at the time, photographs and paintings to present a picture of life in those years. when families had to cope not just with the threat of bombs, but also rationing, the black-out, shortages of basic items, and of course, the general disruption which results from being at war.
But several things come through very clearly. Although by modern standards life was very basic - for instance, their house had no electricity - everyone coped and was still able to enjoy life. All the adults, except for one daughter who had heart problems, and of course, the mother who had a full time role running the home, had a job, whether in shops or factories, or in the case of Mr. Allpress, on the railways. They were very much a working family.
Another thing which struck me was the size of their house, a model of which formed part of the exhibition.. Mr. Allpress had a very ordinary job, and obviously did not earn a very high wage. But the family lived in a four bedroom terraced house with a garden at the back. It may, like many houses at the time, have lacked electricity and a bathroom - but at the same time there was enough space for the whole family, even if some bedrooms had bunk beds. No-one working on the railways today could possibly afford to live in a house like that, except by claiming Housing Benefit, which did not exist in the 1940s.
A further thing which I noticed was the size of the meals. One of the questions asked was what the people had to eat in those days, and the window showed a picture of a typical plate. There were portions of everything you would expect - potatoes, carrots, meat - but the portions were far, far smaller than would be served up today. No wonder the people were so slim compared to nowadays!
Also, the voice of Betty, the eldest daughter who talked about things like making do and mending - no rough South London accent, but a very pleasant and clear voice which was a joy to listen to. They may have been very much a working class family, but they were well spoken, albeit not posh speaking.
Finally, there was the impression of a community which was united in fighting against Hitler - the Allpresses involved themselves in the war effort and their quiet patriotism was obvious.
Thursday, 19 December 2013
The Secret Life of Walter Mitty
I had tickets for a preview of this at the Vue in Shepherds Bush, which couldn't be handier - no traipsing miles to places like Wimbledon or Kingston or Greenwich, but just a ten minute walk.
My first impressions of the film were that I didn't really like it. The dreamings of Walter Mitty were offputting to say the least, and interfered with the flow of the film. However, things changed as the film went on, and I was soon really enjoying it. There was plenty of action - Walter Mitty's real adventures were much more exciting than all his dreams, and there was never a dull moment as he went from one country to another, and from one hair-raising adventure to the next.
The end was quite a surprise Set in a magazine that the new owners had decided was to go solely online after the next issue, with the consequent disappearance of most people's jobs, his adventures were all part of his quest to find the photographer who had taken the picture that was to go on the front cover of the final issue, and which he assumed he had lost - picture No. 25, which the photographer had said encapsulated life and all its meaning. When the final issue came out, there was Walter Mitty himself on the front cover.
Intertwined with this was his search for a girlfriend. Having joined Harmony, a dating agency, he was having problems because there was absolutely nothing in his life that was interesting - he hadn't been anywhere or done anything interesting, never mind exciting. Everyone ignored him. However, as he posted all his adventures online, his profile changed - and in the end he gets to go out with the girl he wanted, whom he had first noticed in the office, but wanted to date via Harmony.
Altogether, a "feel good" film - exciting, all ends happily, and boy gets the girl he wanted.
My first impressions of the film were that I didn't really like it. The dreamings of Walter Mitty were offputting to say the least, and interfered with the flow of the film. However, things changed as the film went on, and I was soon really enjoying it. There was plenty of action - Walter Mitty's real adventures were much more exciting than all his dreams, and there was never a dull moment as he went from one country to another, and from one hair-raising adventure to the next.
The end was quite a surprise Set in a magazine that the new owners had decided was to go solely online after the next issue, with the consequent disappearance of most people's jobs, his adventures were all part of his quest to find the photographer who had taken the picture that was to go on the front cover of the final issue, and which he assumed he had lost - picture No. 25, which the photographer had said encapsulated life and all its meaning. When the final issue came out, there was Walter Mitty himself on the front cover.
Intertwined with this was his search for a girlfriend. Having joined Harmony, a dating agency, he was having problems because there was absolutely nothing in his life that was interesting - he hadn't been anywhere or done anything interesting, never mind exciting. Everyone ignored him. However, as he posted all his adventures online, his profile changed - and in the end he gets to go out with the girl he wanted, whom he had first noticed in the office, but wanted to date via Harmony.
Altogether, a "feel good" film - exciting, all ends happily, and boy gets the girl he wanted.
Sunday, 15 December 2013
Carol Service
As I was out in Richmond doing some shopping - well, looking at the shops, as I didn't actually find anything I wanted to buy - I( decided to go to look and see if there were any carol services there this evening. I popped into St. John the Divine Church, which is just a couple of minutes walk from the station, and found that all they had on this afternoon was a children's nativity play, with a minute congregation watching - evidently not even all the parents had bothered to attend.
However, I did see a leaflet with details of what was going on at all the other churches in Richmond for the Christmas period, and there was one, St. Matthias the Apostle, which had a carol service at 6.30 p.m.
So, as it was only four o'clock, I got a bus to Twickenham to look at the shops there - they have rather a lot of good charity shops in Twickenham - but unfortunately they didn't have the one thing I was really looking for - a nice, pretty milk jug. I really do need one, as it isn't a good idea to keep things like evaporated or consdensed milk in the tin in the fridge.
By this time, it had started to rain quite heavily, and when I got off the bus on my return to Richmond, I had to shelter in one of the shops for a few minutes, even though I had, as always, a brolly. It's not really cold, just very miserable.
However, the rain eased off, and I set off to find the church, as it didn't seem to be marked on the map in the station. The address given on the leaflet was just Church Road, which is quite a long road - I realised afterwards that what I thought was just a mark on the map must have been the cross for the church.
I arrived in really good time - about three quarters of an hour before it was due to start. So I settled down to read the book I'd brought with me.
St. Matthias looks as if it is quite an old church, with a tall spire which was floodlit and can be seen from quite a distance away.
Inside, the most noticeable thing is the ceiling above the sanctuary - gaily patterned, with dark read being the dominant colour. It's really quite impressive, and you just can't help noticing it. Almost equally noticeable is the ceiling, which is multi-coloured, with blue predominating.
The lighting is also slightly unusual, with rows of spotlights on either side, and they already had an enormous Christmas tree with red lights.
There has obviously been a lot of work done on the interior of the church to provide a kitchen, room for socialising and several little rooms - the original church must have been very long.
The church was packed, with quite a few children, and in addition to the Vicar and a reader, there was a choir consisting of seven women and four men, some of them fairly elderly.
Although it was advertised as "Carols by Candlelight", and there were quite a few candles around, they in fact had nearly all the lights on as well, so no-one had to strain their eyes trying to read the words.
The service was fairly traditional, with lots of readings from Luke's Gospel, read by various members of the congregation, all the usual congregational hymns like "O Little Town of Bethleham", "Of the Father's Love Begotten", "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel", "It came upon the Midnight Clear", "Joy to the World", and finally "O Come all ye Faithful" and a couple of items by the choir only, including one I wasn't really familiar with called "Come let us worship the King", which was rather nice.
Afterwards, there was mulled wine and mince pies at the back of the church - all rather delicious, and I got talking to the young couple with a small boy who had been sitting next to me. Apparently the church always has a large congregation, with a lot of children, and looking at the noticeboard, there did seem to be quite a lot going on.
Altogether it was a lovely service, and the mulled wine and mince pies rounded it rather nicely.
However, I did see a leaflet with details of what was going on at all the other churches in Richmond for the Christmas period, and there was one, St. Matthias the Apostle, which had a carol service at 6.30 p.m.
So, as it was only four o'clock, I got a bus to Twickenham to look at the shops there - they have rather a lot of good charity shops in Twickenham - but unfortunately they didn't have the one thing I was really looking for - a nice, pretty milk jug. I really do need one, as it isn't a good idea to keep things like evaporated or consdensed milk in the tin in the fridge.
By this time, it had started to rain quite heavily, and when I got off the bus on my return to Richmond, I had to shelter in one of the shops for a few minutes, even though I had, as always, a brolly. It's not really cold, just very miserable.
However, the rain eased off, and I set off to find the church, as it didn't seem to be marked on the map in the station. The address given on the leaflet was just Church Road, which is quite a long road - I realised afterwards that what I thought was just a mark on the map must have been the cross for the church.
I arrived in really good time - about three quarters of an hour before it was due to start. So I settled down to read the book I'd brought with me.
St. Matthias looks as if it is quite an old church, with a tall spire which was floodlit and can be seen from quite a distance away.
Inside, the most noticeable thing is the ceiling above the sanctuary - gaily patterned, with dark read being the dominant colour. It's really quite impressive, and you just can't help noticing it. Almost equally noticeable is the ceiling, which is multi-coloured, with blue predominating.
The lighting is also slightly unusual, with rows of spotlights on either side, and they already had an enormous Christmas tree with red lights.
There has obviously been a lot of work done on the interior of the church to provide a kitchen, room for socialising and several little rooms - the original church must have been very long.
The church was packed, with quite a few children, and in addition to the Vicar and a reader, there was a choir consisting of seven women and four men, some of them fairly elderly.
Although it was advertised as "Carols by Candlelight", and there were quite a few candles around, they in fact had nearly all the lights on as well, so no-one had to strain their eyes trying to read the words.
The service was fairly traditional, with lots of readings from Luke's Gospel, read by various members of the congregation, all the usual congregational hymns like "O Little Town of Bethleham", "Of the Father's Love Begotten", "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel", "It came upon the Midnight Clear", "Joy to the World", and finally "O Come all ye Faithful" and a couple of items by the choir only, including one I wasn't really familiar with called "Come let us worship the King", which was rather nice.
Afterwards, there was mulled wine and mince pies at the back of the church - all rather delicious, and I got talking to the young couple with a small boy who had been sitting next to me. Apparently the church always has a large congregation, with a lot of children, and looking at the noticeboard, there did seem to be quite a lot going on.
Altogether it was a lovely service, and the mulled wine and mince pies rounded it rather nicely.
Wednesday, 11 December 2013
Carol Singing
This evening, there was the usual carol singing at Hammersmith Station to raise money for a local charity - this year for the homeless.
I went there straight from work, as they were starting at 5.30 p.m. - there were about a dozen people, with a couple of small boys to hold - and rattle loudly - the collecting tins. Small children are always a draw for getting people to put money in the tins. These two were about four and eight I should think, and full of enthusiasm for the task.
We sang all the traditional carols under the direction of Denis Moriarty, who always organises it; Hammersmith Station during the rush hour is always extremely busy, so there are plenty of potential customers, and the tins were quite heavy by the time we finished at 7.00 p.m.
We were joined during the course of the singing by a member of the public, who just liked carol singing, and said she was on a retreat somewhere in Blythe Road.
The first time I sang carols in Hammersmith Station, when the new centre hadn't been completely, it was so bitterly cold that the flower seller in the booking hall went and got the two of us a hot drink, as we looked (and were!) so bitterly cold. It was absolutely freezing, with an icy blast blowing in.
This evening, however, not only was the temperature higher outside, but the shopping centre is now properly heated, and it was quite pleasant - no fingers so cold you couldn't turn the pages.
After we had finished singing, everyone went back to Denis and Jinnie's house for a delicious supper of nibbles and then pasta, washed down with wine - a really nice ending to the evening.
I went there straight from work, as they were starting at 5.30 p.m. - there were about a dozen people, with a couple of small boys to hold - and rattle loudly - the collecting tins. Small children are always a draw for getting people to put money in the tins. These two were about four and eight I should think, and full of enthusiasm for the task.
We sang all the traditional carols under the direction of Denis Moriarty, who always organises it; Hammersmith Station during the rush hour is always extremely busy, so there are plenty of potential customers, and the tins were quite heavy by the time we finished at 7.00 p.m.
We were joined during the course of the singing by a member of the public, who just liked carol singing, and said she was on a retreat somewhere in Blythe Road.
The first time I sang carols in Hammersmith Station, when the new centre hadn't been completely, it was so bitterly cold that the flower seller in the booking hall went and got the two of us a hot drink, as we looked (and were!) so bitterly cold. It was absolutely freezing, with an icy blast blowing in.
This evening, however, not only was the temperature higher outside, but the shopping centre is now properly heated, and it was quite pleasant - no fingers so cold you couldn't turn the pages.
After we had finished singing, everyone went back to Denis and Jinnie's house for a delicious supper of nibbles and then pasta, washed down with wine - a really nice ending to the evening.
Saturday, 7 December 2013
Puss in Boots
Whilst I was in Catford, I picked up a leaflet from the library issued by Lewisham Council, which gave details of all sorts of things that were happening in the borough, including a pantomime at the telegraph Hill Centre.
When we left the Horniman Museum, we had oodles of time to get to the Telegraph Hill Centre, although finding out where exactly it was and how to get there was a different matter. Everyone we asked said something different, and we hopped on an off buses without really getting anywhere. Finally, we got on a bus which we'd been told would take us there, but had no idea where to get off - or whether it really was going to Kitto Road. it's no use asking the bus drivers, as few of them have a clue.
But I saw a young chap looking at maps on his mobile phone, and asked if he would be awfully kind and look up Kitto Road. It turned out he was going there himself! And the bus stopped just a matter of yards from the centre.
Telegraph Hill Centre is literally on top of a hill. Yo can see for miles, and on a dark night, it all looks wonderful, with lots of twinkling lights everywhere. The Centre is in fact part of a church. There is a community cafe attached, but they are not normally open in the evenings, and all they had in the way of food was beam stew or a small - very small - selection of rather expensive little cakes. We had one with a cup of coffee just to keep us going.
The theatre was tiny, and we were lucky to get seats, as they were sold out. However, they did squeeze us in, and we had quite a good view as we went in as soon as the doors opened.
As usual, the pantomime included lots of local references, and I gather all the actors were local people. The Dame was great and so was Puss - she really looked the part, even in her costume.
Instead of proper scenery, they had a series of large panels, where were turned round to provide the different backgrounds, and everything took place on a very small stage - you certainly couldn't get too many people there at once.
I was lucky enough to get talking to the lady sitting next to me, who was local, and told us that we could get trains home from Nunhead Station, which was quite near where she lived. So there was no problem getting home, as the trains one way go to Blackfriars and the other way to Bromley South, where Janette lives. Luckily, neither of us had to wait long for a train.
From Nunhead you also have a wonderful view -it really looks rather a nice place to live. I also saw a tame fox sauntering along the path beside the railway line - he obviously wasn't afraid of people.
When we left the Horniman Museum, we had oodles of time to get to the Telegraph Hill Centre, although finding out where exactly it was and how to get there was a different matter. Everyone we asked said something different, and we hopped on an off buses without really getting anywhere. Finally, we got on a bus which we'd been told would take us there, but had no idea where to get off - or whether it really was going to Kitto Road. it's no use asking the bus drivers, as few of them have a clue.
But I saw a young chap looking at maps on his mobile phone, and asked if he would be awfully kind and look up Kitto Road. It turned out he was going there himself! And the bus stopped just a matter of yards from the centre.
Telegraph Hill Centre is literally on top of a hill. Yo can see for miles, and on a dark night, it all looks wonderful, with lots of twinkling lights everywhere. The Centre is in fact part of a church. There is a community cafe attached, but they are not normally open in the evenings, and all they had in the way of food was beam stew or a small - very small - selection of rather expensive little cakes. We had one with a cup of coffee just to keep us going.
The theatre was tiny, and we were lucky to get seats, as they were sold out. However, they did squeeze us in, and we had quite a good view as we went in as soon as the doors opened.
As usual, the pantomime included lots of local references, and I gather all the actors were local people. The Dame was great and so was Puss - she really looked the part, even in her costume.
Instead of proper scenery, they had a series of large panels, where were turned round to provide the different backgrounds, and everything took place on a very small stage - you certainly couldn't get too many people there at once.
I was lucky enough to get talking to the lady sitting next to me, who was local, and told us that we could get trains home from Nunhead Station, which was quite near where she lived. So there was no problem getting home, as the trains one way go to Blackfriars and the other way to Bromley South, where Janette lives. Luckily, neither of us had to wait long for a train.
From Nunhead you also have a wonderful view -it really looks rather a nice place to live. I also saw a tame fox sauntering along the path beside the railway line - he obviously wasn't afraid of people.
Horniman Museum Christmas Market
I met a friend, Janette, for lunch in Catford; her daughter lives there, although it is rather a tatty place, there are one or two nice cafes.
After lunch, we caught a bus to the Horniman Museum, which is quite near, and had a Christmas Fair and Market.
We'd both been to the actual museum before, so didn't both looking around again, but went up the hill to the market. They were selling a lot of artisan foods; I tried a little piece of the red cup cakes, but didn't buy anything. The trouble with a lot of these artisan markets is that they are terribly expensive - everything costs far more than it does in the shops. But they did have some delicious looking foods.
In addition to the market, which is a regular feature, there was also a Christmas Fair in two venues. I didn't see anything I wanted, but they did have some quite nice things if you wanted something slightly different as a Christmas present
After lunch, we caught a bus to the Horniman Museum, which is quite near, and had a Christmas Fair and Market.
We'd both been to the actual museum before, so didn't both looking around again, but went up the hill to the market. They were selling a lot of artisan foods; I tried a little piece of the red cup cakes, but didn't buy anything. The trouble with a lot of these artisan markets is that they are terribly expensive - everything costs far more than it does in the shops. But they did have some delicious looking foods.
In addition to the market, which is a regular feature, there was also a Christmas Fair in two venues. I didn't see anything I wanted, but they did have some quite nice things if you wanted something slightly different as a Christmas present
Saturday, 30 November 2013
Autumn Concert - St. Peter's Brockley
Subtitled "From Tragedy to Triumph", the concert featured Tchaikovsky's Symphony No.5, Mendelssohn's Ruy Blas Overture and Rachmaninoff's Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, all played by the Harmony Sinfonia under Lindsay Ryan, with pianist Mario Mora.
It was a delightful evening; the music was varied and exciting; the only thing I found irritating was the outfit which Lindsay Ryan wore to conduct. She is a slightly plumpish lady - not fat, but with curves. Her dress had just one shoulder, and all the time she was conducting, you were very aware of her curves overflowing her dress and wobbling - she would have been much better in a less fitted, long-sleeved dress which didn't show quite so much bare flesh.
That said, though, she is obviously a brilliant musician, with a string of qualifications, and very confident out in front of the orchestra.
Afterwards there was wine and fruit juice and a chance to talk to people.
I had some problems finding the church - although I had the address, the map at Brockley Station was very badly lit, and I couldn't read it. Luckily, a young couple nearby had better eyesight, and found the road for me - in fact the church is quite near the station.
As I had plenty of time, I decided to get something to eat before going to the concert, and popped into a little Chinese cafe. I could understand afterwards why it was almost empty. I ordered a vegetable curry with rice and asked if the vegetables were well-cooked, and was assured they would be. I also asked for a meal to eat in.
When it arrived, it was in a carton, though they did get me a plate when I asked.
But the vegetables were almost raw, even though they had taken a while to bring the food - they obviously hadn't a clue. Not somewhere I will every again go for a meal.
It was a delightful evening; the music was varied and exciting; the only thing I found irritating was the outfit which Lindsay Ryan wore to conduct. She is a slightly plumpish lady - not fat, but with curves. Her dress had just one shoulder, and all the time she was conducting, you were very aware of her curves overflowing her dress and wobbling - she would have been much better in a less fitted, long-sleeved dress which didn't show quite so much bare flesh.
That said, though, she is obviously a brilliant musician, with a string of qualifications, and very confident out in front of the orchestra.
Afterwards there was wine and fruit juice and a chance to talk to people.
I had some problems finding the church - although I had the address, the map at Brockley Station was very badly lit, and I couldn't read it. Luckily, a young couple nearby had better eyesight, and found the road for me - in fact the church is quite near the station.
As I had plenty of time, I decided to get something to eat before going to the concert, and popped into a little Chinese cafe. I could understand afterwards why it was almost empty. I ordered a vegetable curry with rice and asked if the vegetables were well-cooked, and was assured they would be. I also asked for a meal to eat in.
When it arrived, it was in a carton, though they did get me a plate when I asked.
But the vegetables were almost raw, even though they had taken a while to bring the food - they obviously hadn't a clue. Not somewhere I will every again go for a meal.
Christmas Bazaar
As Janette was down in Catford, we met at Peckham Rye station, to go to the Christmas Bazaar at St. John's Church, East Dulwich, which was a short bus-ride away.
The church wasn't difficult to find, as it was just across a small green from the bus-stop, and the bazaar was being held in the church and attached community centre.
It was quite a small bazaar, but I did manage to find something for Isabella for Christmas - a little peach coloured "V" necked cardigan. We also had something to eat there - delicious leek and potato soup with a bread roll and a cup of tea.
The church wasn't difficult to find, as it was just across a small green from the bus-stop, and the bazaar was being held in the church and attached community centre.
It was quite a small bazaar, but I did manage to find something for Isabella for Christmas - a little peach coloured "V" necked cardigan. We also had something to eat there - delicious leek and potato soup with a bread roll and a cup of tea.
Friday, 29 November 2013
Pantostein
My first panto of the season, which was put on by the Beaufort Players in the hall of the Church of the Ascension in Hanger Lane, which is their usual venue.
I rushed straight off from Mass and got the Central Line to Hanger Lane, which is I think the quickest way to get there. From Hanger Lane you can get either a bus or walk down to the church, which is actually in Beaufort Gardens.
Pantostein, which the publicity described as "A scarily silly phantomime" was set in Transylvania, and was a new pantomime, written for the Beaufort Players. But it had all the usual ingredients, including the local allusions, as in "If you stand round doing nothing people will think you work for Ealing Council"
The actors were, as usual, excellent, although I sometimes found the fake German accents a bit difficult to follow.
Unusually for the Beaufort Players, the hall wasn't packed; often when I've been to their performances, I've had to sit right at the back, as everything nearer the front had already gone. But this evening I had an excellent aisle seat.
I rushed straight off from Mass and got the Central Line to Hanger Lane, which is I think the quickest way to get there. From Hanger Lane you can get either a bus or walk down to the church, which is actually in Beaufort Gardens.
Pantostein, which the publicity described as "A scarily silly phantomime" was set in Transylvania, and was a new pantomime, written for the Beaufort Players. But it had all the usual ingredients, including the local allusions, as in "If you stand round doing nothing people will think you work for Ealing Council"
The actors were, as usual, excellent, although I sometimes found the fake German accents a bit difficult to follow.
Unusually for the Beaufort Players, the hall wasn't packed; often when I've been to their performances, I've had to sit right at the back, as everything nearer the front had already gone. But this evening I had an excellent aisle seat.
Thursday, 28 November 2013
Saving Mr. Banks
I couldn't get a ticket for the preview of this at the cinema in Soho, as it was fully booked. The next nearest venue was the Odeon Kingston, which I worked out I could just about get to providing I got away from work on time, by getting the Northern line to Euston, then the Victoria line to Vauxhall and finally Southern Rail to Kingston. Fortunately, I got all my connections, and as the cinema is just across the road from the station, I was there on time - they don't let latecomers into previews, and if you get there at the last moment, you often have to sit in a very poor seat at the side. Luckily, I was there in time to get a really good seat looking straight at the screen.
Saving Mr. Banks is about Walt Disney's negotiations with author P.L.Travers in connection with making a film of her book, Mary Poppins. With Tom Hanks as Walt Disney, and Emma Thompson as P.L.Travers, the two headstrong characters fight it out every inch of the way; Walt Disney is determined to make the film, but P.L.Travers has her own ideas about her book, and is equally determined to have her own way. She must have been a nightmare to work with, but at the same time, Mary Poppins was very precious to her, not least because it is, in many ways, not just a story but part of her own story. The Mr. Banks of the title is in fact her father, whose reputation she is determined to maintain.
Although I'm sure the film exercised a great deal of poetic licence, it was well-made and well scripted - the characters seemed real, even if very cantankerous and impossible to work with. Only those such as the two scriptwriters and her driver were really nice characters.
Much of the film consists of flashbacks to P.L.Travers's childhood in Queensland, where she lived in a house miles from anywhere - one wonders how her father, a bank manager, got to work every day, since the house seemed to be a very long way from the town. She idolised her father, an alcoholic who died, in the film from TB, while she was still quite young. It took a while before I realised that these were flashbacks, rather than a parallel story.
I've now added Mary Poppins to my list of books to read - the list is rather long, so I don't know when I will eventually get round to reading it.
Saving Mr. Banks is about Walt Disney's negotiations with author P.L.Travers in connection with making a film of her book, Mary Poppins. With Tom Hanks as Walt Disney, and Emma Thompson as P.L.Travers, the two headstrong characters fight it out every inch of the way; Walt Disney is determined to make the film, but P.L.Travers has her own ideas about her book, and is equally determined to have her own way. She must have been a nightmare to work with, but at the same time, Mary Poppins was very precious to her, not least because it is, in many ways, not just a story but part of her own story. The Mr. Banks of the title is in fact her father, whose reputation she is determined to maintain.
Although I'm sure the film exercised a great deal of poetic licence, it was well-made and well scripted - the characters seemed real, even if very cantankerous and impossible to work with. Only those such as the two scriptwriters and her driver were really nice characters.
Much of the film consists of flashbacks to P.L.Travers's childhood in Queensland, where she lived in a house miles from anywhere - one wonders how her father, a bank manager, got to work every day, since the house seemed to be a very long way from the town. She idolised her father, an alcoholic who died, in the film from TB, while she was still quite young. It took a while before I realised that these were flashbacks, rather than a parallel story.
I've now added Mary Poppins to my list of books to read - the list is rather long, so I don't know when I will eventually get round to reading it.
Monday, 25 November 2013
Saturday, 23 November 2013
Sunday, 17 November 2013
El Dorado
Sunday afternoon, and I decided, after a lazy lunch, that I would visit the new exhibition at the British Museum.
There are in fact two special exhibitions on at the moment, but the one I wanted to see was on Columbia before the Spanish conquest, and the place of gold in their society.
It was quite a fascinating exhibition. Most of the items could not be dated accurately, and were listed as somewhere between 200 bc and 1600 AD, but what struck me was the similarity between the gold jewellery of pre-Spanish conquest Columbia and that of Europe and Central Asia. It was as if the people from all thsoe areas had been in contact with each other, although history tells otherwise, at least in the case of South America. Even the methods of production were similar. So a question arises - how did people so far apart come up with the same ideas for creating beautiful gold jewellery. And why did they all choose gold?
The exhibition was much smaller than many of the previous exhibitions I have been to there - an hour and a half was plenty to see it all - but it was still worth going to see.
There are in fact two special exhibitions on at the moment, but the one I wanted to see was on Columbia before the Spanish conquest, and the place of gold in their society.
It was quite a fascinating exhibition. Most of the items could not be dated accurately, and were listed as somewhere between 200 bc and 1600 AD, but what struck me was the similarity between the gold jewellery of pre-Spanish conquest Columbia and that of Europe and Central Asia. It was as if the people from all thsoe areas had been in contact with each other, although history tells otherwise, at least in the case of South America. Even the methods of production were similar. So a question arises - how did people so far apart come up with the same ideas for creating beautiful gold jewellery. And why did they all choose gold?
The exhibition was much smaller than many of the previous exhibitions I have been to there - an hour and a half was plenty to see it all - but it was still worth going to see.
Saturday, 9 November 2013
The Browning Version and Harlequinade
The Ladbroke Players were putting on their usual November production at St. Peter's Kensington Park Road this week - and as they are always first class, I decided to go along and see their latest efforts - two short plays by Terence Rattigan.
The first one was "The Browning Version", an interesting look at relationships between various people and how they were played out against the background of a public school. Andrew Crocker Harris, apparently sour, stern and very correct, is not liked by the boys, although some - perhaps many - respect him. He is married to a wife whom he does not love, but believes his marriage vows demand that he supports her.
She, on the other hand, is having an affair with a young colleague, and has no compunction in upsetting and putting her husband down. He knows about her affair, but says nothing, as he does not want to cause trouble, and tends to be very compliant about everything.
He is touched when a boy gives him a Latin translation - the Browning Version of the title - but is devastated when his wife waspishly informs him that the gift was to placate him, and the boy's comments were not sincere.
He suddenly realises just what his wife is and - perhaps for the first time in his life - stands up for himself.
Harlequinade was completely different - a comedy about a bohemian acting couple who are organising a performance of Romeo and Juliet. Once again the acting was superb - I don't know why anyone bothers to go to the West end when there is such talent on the doorstep.
The first one was "The Browning Version", an interesting look at relationships between various people and how they were played out against the background of a public school. Andrew Crocker Harris, apparently sour, stern and very correct, is not liked by the boys, although some - perhaps many - respect him. He is married to a wife whom he does not love, but believes his marriage vows demand that he supports her.
She, on the other hand, is having an affair with a young colleague, and has no compunction in upsetting and putting her husband down. He knows about her affair, but says nothing, as he does not want to cause trouble, and tends to be very compliant about everything.
He is touched when a boy gives him a Latin translation - the Browning Version of the title - but is devastated when his wife waspishly informs him that the gift was to placate him, and the boy's comments were not sincere.
He suddenly realises just what his wife is and - perhaps for the first time in his life - stands up for himself.
Harlequinade was completely different - a comedy about a bohemian acting couple who are organising a performance of Romeo and Juliet. Once again the acting was superb - I don't know why anyone bothers to go to the West end when there is such talent on the doorstep.
The Lord Mayor's Show
Morning Coffee at Haberdasher's Hall at the invitation of a member - always a pleasure - and then on to watch the Lord Mayor's Show from a spot on Ludgate Hill.
On a nice day, the route would have been packed, but today was cold and wet; the forecast was rain from 11 a.m. - 1.00 p.m., and they weren't far wrong. I had gone prepared with a thick plastic mac which is proof against everything - a tropical downpour wouldn't have any affect - and in addition had taken a brolly. With gloves and waterproof boots to complete the outfit, I was reasonably warm and certainly dry.
The parade was the usual spectacle, with gaily coloured floats, bands, dancers, etc. Some of them must have been freezing in their flimsy costumes, although a lot have taken the precaution of wearing plastic macs to keep dry.
This year, the Lord Mayor is a woman, Fiona Woolf, whose achievements, naturally, are rather impressive - you don't get to be Lord Mayor of London unless they are. She is only the second woman to hold the post in its 800 year history.
For that reason, I wanted to take a photo, and as the procession was nearing the end, the rain stopped, so I was able to get out my camera.
Unfortunately, by the time I had got it out of my rucksack, and out of its case, she had passed and I missed her - I looked up to see her coach disappearing along the street.
Afterward, we went back to Haberdashers' Hall for lunch - steaming hot bowls of soup and bread and sandwiches and chips plus sweets as well, and wine and coffee. All most, most welcome after coming in from the cold.
Haberdashers' Hall is quite new, but has been very tastefully designed, with rooms built around a courtyard with a fountain. The whole atmosphere is peaceful and timeless. It must be rather nice living in the flats above it.
On a nice day, the route would have been packed, but today was cold and wet; the forecast was rain from 11 a.m. - 1.00 p.m., and they weren't far wrong. I had gone prepared with a thick plastic mac which is proof against everything - a tropical downpour wouldn't have any affect - and in addition had taken a brolly. With gloves and waterproof boots to complete the outfit, I was reasonably warm and certainly dry.
The parade was the usual spectacle, with gaily coloured floats, bands, dancers, etc. Some of them must have been freezing in their flimsy costumes, although a lot have taken the precaution of wearing plastic macs to keep dry.
This year, the Lord Mayor is a woman, Fiona Woolf, whose achievements, naturally, are rather impressive - you don't get to be Lord Mayor of London unless they are. She is only the second woman to hold the post in its 800 year history.
For that reason, I wanted to take a photo, and as the procession was nearing the end, the rain stopped, so I was able to get out my camera.
Unfortunately, by the time I had got it out of my rucksack, and out of its case, she had passed and I missed her - I looked up to see her coach disappearing along the street.
Afterward, we went back to Haberdashers' Hall for lunch - steaming hot bowls of soup and bread and sandwiches and chips plus sweets as well, and wine and coffee. All most, most welcome after coming in from the cold.
Haberdashers' Hall is quite new, but has been very tastefully designed, with rooms built around a courtyard with a fountain. The whole atmosphere is peaceful and timeless. It must be rather nice living in the flats above it.
Thursday, 7 November 2013
Fighting Food Fraud
Another lecture at the Chemistry Society, this time on fighting food fraud,which has been going on for centuries and is still a huge problem, whether it's water in beer (or frozen chicken) or less inoxious products added to increase bulk.
Dr. Duncan Campbell, who was giving the lecture, was an expert, but unfortunately he is not a good lecturer, and this fact was not helped by the fact that there was a problem with the microphone, so I missed quite a lot.
But it was still interesting, including the way the authorities have striven to prevent unscrupulous traders from defrauding their unsuspecting customers.
Dr. Duncan Campbell, who was giving the lecture, was an expert, but unfortunately he is not a good lecturer, and this fact was not helped by the fact that there was a problem with the microphone, so I missed quite a lot.
But it was still interesting, including the way the authorities have striven to prevent unscrupulous traders from defrauding their unsuspecting customers.
Sunday, 3 November 2013
The Real China
I'd noticed the new Chinese restaurant in Hammersmith Broadway a couple of weeks ago, occupying as it does what used to be the Russian restaurant across the courtyard from The Trout. One of the big attractions was that it had an eat-all-you-like buffet for £4.95, much cheaper than the current cost at Aroma in the West 12 Centre, and the food looked quite good as well. So I tried it one evening, and this evening invited a friend to go there with me for dinner.
They apologised for the reduced number of dishes on offer and invited us to go in and have a look before paying. We had a look, and although not every pan contained food, there was plenty that looked appetising. So we went in, and I had a cup of Chinese tea to accompany the meal, while my friend had, as usual, English tea. Frankly, if you've going to a Chinese restaurant, I think it's nice to drink their local drink - and anyway, I like Chinese tea.
The real China isn't very big, with low ceilings, and I don't think the owners are even Chinese, although they obviously come from somewhere in the East. This evening, there was a large party of what seemed to be Chinese and Filipinos there, all young, all obviously happy and enjoying themselves. It's always a good sign if a Chinese restaurant is packed with Chinese.
The food is a mixture of English and Chinese, with things like chips and hash browns and potato balls along with friend rice, noodles and variour meat curries - which i didn't try, being vegetarian.
It was all well cooked, and the great thing about places like that is that you can take just a little of each dish, and then go back for seconds, or even thirds. You never feel you ought to eat things you don't really like, as you get to choose exactly what you put on your plate.
I just hope that as it becomes more well-known and popular, they won't put up the prices, as Aroma did.
They apologised for the reduced number of dishes on offer and invited us to go in and have a look before paying. We had a look, and although not every pan contained food, there was plenty that looked appetising. So we went in, and I had a cup of Chinese tea to accompany the meal, while my friend had, as usual, English tea. Frankly, if you've going to a Chinese restaurant, I think it's nice to drink their local drink - and anyway, I like Chinese tea.
The real China isn't very big, with low ceilings, and I don't think the owners are even Chinese, although they obviously come from somewhere in the East. This evening, there was a large party of what seemed to be Chinese and Filipinos there, all young, all obviously happy and enjoying themselves. It's always a good sign if a Chinese restaurant is packed with Chinese.
The food is a mixture of English and Chinese, with things like chips and hash browns and potato balls along with friend rice, noodles and variour meat curries - which i didn't try, being vegetarian.
It was all well cooked, and the great thing about places like that is that you can take just a little of each dish, and then go back for seconds, or even thirds. You never feel you ought to eat things you don't really like, as you get to choose exactly what you put on your plate.
I just hope that as it becomes more well-known and popular, they won't put up the prices, as Aroma did.
Saturday, 19 October 2013
Ukrainian Festival
Today there was a Ukrainian Festival in Potters Fields. It started at mid-day, but I had a reading group meeting that morning, so didn't arrive till later.
I arranged to meet a friend at Southwark Cathedral, which was one of the few landmarks we both knew and could be certain hadn't changed - with so much being pulled down and rebuilt these days, you can never be certain that something that used to be there still is. But Southwark Cathedral is unlikely to be pulled down for quite a while yet!
As we wanted to have something to eat, we had a look in their restaurant, and it was, as I remembered it to be, rather like a gastropub, with a limited menu aimed at the sort of people who like gastropubs. I don't.
So we set off to find somewhere else that we both liked. I'm fairly easy to please, providing it's vegetarian, but my friend is much more fussy - she likes roasts and English breakfasts, and will occasionally try Chinese, but everything else tends to be dismissed. We passed one cafe where they did English breakfasts, but she declared it was too small and clautrophobic, so we went on, until we reached Potters Fields. As one would expect, there were plenty of food stalls, selling what looked like delicious Ukrainian food, including things like potato pancakes with onions, but they were £6, and my friend declared whe wasn't paying £6 for cheap things like potato. So it was back to the little cafe we'd passed previously, as there didn't appear to be anything else around that was open on a Saturday.
There was a stage, with continuous music, and an area where a group of men in Ukrainian costume gave displays of acrobatics, sword fighting, etc, although it was a far from ideal day for that sort of thing. It wasn't actually raining, but the ground was sodden, and they must have got everything rather dirty, including themselves - half the time they were bare from the waist up.
I wasn't terribly keen on a lot of the music, although I enjoyed the dancing. It was largely modern Ukrainian music rather than folk, with a lot of scruffy looking performers. Maybe they were good if hyou liked that sort of music, but in the case of much of it, I didn't. Pop groups tend to be much the same everywhere, and they were obviously aping western pop music which could originate from anywhere, and had nothing specifically Ukrainian about it. The folk music, on the other hand, was very enjoyable.
There were a few stands selling rather expensive Ukrainian good, such as peasant blouses and wall hangins, but nothing very exciting. One got the impression that the Ukrainians in London, in contrast to the Russians, were rather poor. Few furs and expensive clothes were in evidence, and many of them wouldn't have looked out of place in the East End. It definitely wasn't the Russian New Year in Trafalgar Square.
My friend left about four o'clock, but I stayed on a bit longer, in case there was anything interesting coming up on the stage. But when it looked as if the rest of the programme would be Ukrainian pop, I decided to leave. Apart from that, it was getting a bit cold, and the crowds of Ukrainians were also thinning out.
I arranged to meet a friend at Southwark Cathedral, which was one of the few landmarks we both knew and could be certain hadn't changed - with so much being pulled down and rebuilt these days, you can never be certain that something that used to be there still is. But Southwark Cathedral is unlikely to be pulled down for quite a while yet!
As we wanted to have something to eat, we had a look in their restaurant, and it was, as I remembered it to be, rather like a gastropub, with a limited menu aimed at the sort of people who like gastropubs. I don't.
So we set off to find somewhere else that we both liked. I'm fairly easy to please, providing it's vegetarian, but my friend is much more fussy - she likes roasts and English breakfasts, and will occasionally try Chinese, but everything else tends to be dismissed. We passed one cafe where they did English breakfasts, but she declared it was too small and clautrophobic, so we went on, until we reached Potters Fields. As one would expect, there were plenty of food stalls, selling what looked like delicious Ukrainian food, including things like potato pancakes with onions, but they were £6, and my friend declared whe wasn't paying £6 for cheap things like potato. So it was back to the little cafe we'd passed previously, as there didn't appear to be anything else around that was open on a Saturday.
There was a stage, with continuous music, and an area where a group of men in Ukrainian costume gave displays of acrobatics, sword fighting, etc, although it was a far from ideal day for that sort of thing. It wasn't actually raining, but the ground was sodden, and they must have got everything rather dirty, including themselves - half the time they were bare from the waist up.
I wasn't terribly keen on a lot of the music, although I enjoyed the dancing. It was largely modern Ukrainian music rather than folk, with a lot of scruffy looking performers. Maybe they were good if hyou liked that sort of music, but in the case of much of it, I didn't. Pop groups tend to be much the same everywhere, and they were obviously aping western pop music which could originate from anywhere, and had nothing specifically Ukrainian about it. The folk music, on the other hand, was very enjoyable.
There were a few stands selling rather expensive Ukrainian good, such as peasant blouses and wall hangins, but nothing very exciting. One got the impression that the Ukrainians in London, in contrast to the Russians, were rather poor. Few furs and expensive clothes were in evidence, and many of them wouldn't have looked out of place in the East End. It definitely wasn't the Russian New Year in Trafalgar Square.
My friend left about four o'clock, but I stayed on a bit longer, in case there was anything interesting coming up on the stage. But when it looked as if the rest of the programme would be Ukrainian pop, I decided to leave. Apart from that, it was getting a bit cold, and the crowds of Ukrainians were also thinning out.
Monday, 14 October 2013
Captain Phillips
Another free ticket from the Daily Telegraph, this time for the new film Captain Phillips, which is based on a true story of an American ship hijacked by Somali pirates off the coast of Africa.
With Tom Hanks as Captian Phillips, the quiet, confident American Captain, and an asortment of Somalis as the pirates, it was a tense thriller, well-acted, well-scripted and very plausible to anyone who reads the news - unsurprising, since it was based on a true story, although I'm not sure what bits were fact and what were fiction. Suffice to say that the fact that Captain Phillips' ship was hijacked and that he survived was fact, but what went on in between may have owed a lot to poetic licence.
It did, however, raise some intersting questions. Should ransoms ever be paid to Somali "Mr. Bigs", who will used the millions extracted from Western countries to purchase arms to be used against them? Should merchant ships travelling in East African waters be armed, so that they can defend themselves? Should they travel in a convoy or with and armed escort? Who should be prosecuted - the actual pirates, who get very little out of it, or the warlords/gangsgters who make millions but never do the actual dirty work?
The film didn't seek to answer any of these questions, but they were obvious things that would occur to anyone watching it.
With Tom Hanks as Captian Phillips, the quiet, confident American Captain, and an asortment of Somalis as the pirates, it was a tense thriller, well-acted, well-scripted and very plausible to anyone who reads the news - unsurprising, since it was based on a true story, although I'm not sure what bits were fact and what were fiction. Suffice to say that the fact that Captain Phillips' ship was hijacked and that he survived was fact, but what went on in between may have owed a lot to poetic licence.
It did, however, raise some intersting questions. Should ransoms ever be paid to Somali "Mr. Bigs", who will used the millions extracted from Western countries to purchase arms to be used against them? Should merchant ships travelling in East African waters be armed, so that they can defend themselves? Should they travel in a convoy or with and armed escort? Who should be prosecuted - the actual pirates, who get very little out of it, or the warlords/gangsgters who make millions but never do the actual dirty work?
The film didn't seek to answer any of these questions, but they were obvious things that would occur to anyone watching it.
Thursday, 10 October 2013
Samuel & Elizabeth Pepys
A very interesting lecture at St.Olave's Church in Hart Street in the City, on the marriage of Samuel and Elizabeth Pepys.
They were an interesting couple; he married her when she was very young, and they had no children. He liked other women, though it would appear that his relationship with them, for whatever reason, went no further than just liking them. But that did noty stop him constantly chasing them.
Elizabeth Pepys was an intelligent, forceful woman - today she would probably have had a successful career, but in those days her life revolved around little but looking after the house and keeping her husband happy.
They were an interesting couple; he married her when she was very young, and they had no children. He liked other women, though it would appear that his relationship with them, for whatever reason, went no further than just liking them. But that did noty stop him constantly chasing them.
Elizabeth Pepys was an intelligent, forceful woman - today she would probably have had a successful career, but in those days her life revolved around little but looking after the house and keeping her husband happy.
Wednesday, 25 September 2013
Late Night at the Science Museum
Once a month, the Science Museum has a late night, until 9.00 p.m. I arrived at the main door about a quarter of an hour before it was due to open and found a queue which stretched the length of the block, although I must say it moved very quickly once the doors opened.
The museum was packed, and on the ground floor by the entrance, there was a sort of mini disco, with loud music and lots of young people dancing.
I had a look around various sections, includingone on steam engines and another of medicine, and also went to a couple of lectures, which were extremely interesting. One was on Conan Doyle and the very famous two sisters who claimed to have seen and photographed some fairies. Another was on mental illness and the third was on chemistry and bangs. All were very informal, with the audience largely sitting on the floor - I think they were aimed at children rather than adults, although the lecturers didn't talk down to anyone. And they were all quite short.
If I get chance, it would be nice to go again to a late night there.
The museum was packed, and on the ground floor by the entrance, there was a sort of mini disco, with loud music and lots of young people dancing.
I had a look around various sections, includingone on steam engines and another of medicine, and also went to a couple of lectures, which were extremely interesting. One was on Conan Doyle and the very famous two sisters who claimed to have seen and photographed some fairies. Another was on mental illness and the third was on chemistry and bangs. All were very informal, with the audience largely sitting on the floor - I think they were aimed at children rather than adults, although the lecturers didn't talk down to anyone. And they were all quite short.
If I get chance, it would be nice to go again to a late night there.
Sunday, 22 September 2013
St. Benet Fink Church
I noticed this had the lights on while I was going back to Turnpike Lane station to get the tube, so decided to have a look.
The lights were in fact on because there was a service, with a small number of people scattered around the church.
It is an interesting place, although I don't think it is very old. There are no hymn books, and everything is displayed on a large screen, including things like the prayers. They have a very strict baptism policy - parents have to attend the church every week for six months and attend the preparation classes before their babies are baptised, and it is made quite clear that if they aren;t prepared to do it, then they should go somewhere else.
I only stayed a few minutes to glance around - they seem to have quite a lot of concerts there, but it's quite a way to go.
The lights were in fact on because there was a service, with a small number of people scattered around the church.
It is an interesting place, although I don't think it is very old. There are no hymn books, and everything is displayed on a large screen, including things like the prayers. They have a very strict baptism policy - parents have to attend the church every week for six months and attend the preparation classes before their babies are baptised, and it is made quite clear that if they aren;t prepared to do it, then they should go somewhere else.
I only stayed a few minutes to glance around - they seem to have quite a lot of concerts there, but it's quite a way to go.
All Hallowes Church
Jus a few minutes' walk from Tower Gardens Garden Suburb is All Hallowes Church, bits of which date back to AD 1150, when the area was even more rural that when the Garden Suburb was built.
After another cup of tea and another piece of Victoria sponge, I had a good look the church, whilst entertained by some delightful music in the background.
It's quite an interesting church, with a number of statues and memorials to former residents of the parish, going back to the 1600s.
It would be nice to say that the whole church dates back to the twelvth century, but it wouldn't be true; over the centures there have been major alterations and developments, so that the present church is far larger than the original, of which little remains.
The stained glass windows above the high altar are beautiful, although cost prevented them from being repeated all round the building.
After another cup of tea and another piece of Victoria sponge, I had a good look the church, whilst entertained by some delightful music in the background.
It's quite an interesting church, with a number of statues and memorials to former residents of the parish, going back to the 1600s.
It would be nice to say that the whole church dates back to the twelvth century, but it wouldn't be true; over the centures there have been major alterations and developments, so that the present church is far larger than the original, of which little remains.
The stained glass windows above the high altar are beautiful, although cost prevented them from being repeated all round the building.
Tower Gardens Garden Suburb
On Sunday afternoon I went to see some more of the places that were taking part in Open House weekend, and got the tube to Wood Green to go and see the Tower Gardens Garden Suburb, which is one fo the first garden suburbs in the world, being much older than the more famous Hampstead Garden Suburb.
It arose out of an 1885 Act of Parliament, which gave the London County Council the right to puchase land to build houses for the poor. At the time the land was purchased, it was farmland, and outside London, although the tube had reached it.
Started in 1901, and finished in 1904, the Tower Gardens Garden Suburb is laid out as a series of small streets of terrace houses, with an enclosed park at one end, and their own rather ornate primary school.
The hosues are two up two down, with small gardens at the front and larger ones at the back - the sort of little cottages that most of us would love to live in, although they're not really big enough for a family with children today. Each street is different, where it is in the shape of the roofs, or the arches at the entrance, or the windows, or the doors - and this was deliberate.
No. 5 Tower Gardens Road was organising the open day, and their living room was being used to hand out leaflets for the self-guided tour of the estate, and also to serve tea or coffee and a cake to raise money for a thalassemia charity.
Having mis-read the address as Tower Gardens, I wandered all along Tower Gardens Road as far as Tower Gardens, which is a delightful little square located behind iron gates. Having failed to find any No. 5, I asked the young gentleman who was sitting on one of the benches and obviously had a copy of the guide, where it was, and he directed me back where I had come from. Having done quite a bit of walking, I decided to have my cup of tea and a cake before I started the tour and learned quite a bit about the estate from the host - such things as the fact that if you didn't pay your rent on time, they just put your possessions out on the pavement. Also, if a tenant married, they had to pay ten shillings extra for their wife, as she was regarded as a lodger. While I was enjoying my cup of teac, who should come in but the young gentleman I had spoken to earlier, who it turned out lives only a few minutes' walk away from me - it's an awfully small world!
The tour took about an hour or so, and the notes provided were quite informative. It was originally built to provide good quality healthy accommodation for the poor from East London - the working poor, that is. You had to have a job and be able to pay the rent to get a house there. The rent office was next to Tower Gardens, and I assume the rent officer knew personally every person who lived on the estate.
Now, many of the houses have been sold off, others have been taken over by housing associations and others still remain as Council property.
It is a very peaceful place to live, with very little traffic, and no sound of loud music, despite the very mixed population.
It arose out of an 1885 Act of Parliament, which gave the London County Council the right to puchase land to build houses for the poor. At the time the land was purchased, it was farmland, and outside London, although the tube had reached it.
Started in 1901, and finished in 1904, the Tower Gardens Garden Suburb is laid out as a series of small streets of terrace houses, with an enclosed park at one end, and their own rather ornate primary school.
The hosues are two up two down, with small gardens at the front and larger ones at the back - the sort of little cottages that most of us would love to live in, although they're not really big enough for a family with children today. Each street is different, where it is in the shape of the roofs, or the arches at the entrance, or the windows, or the doors - and this was deliberate.
No. 5 Tower Gardens Road was organising the open day, and their living room was being used to hand out leaflets for the self-guided tour of the estate, and also to serve tea or coffee and a cake to raise money for a thalassemia charity.
Having mis-read the address as Tower Gardens, I wandered all along Tower Gardens Road as far as Tower Gardens, which is a delightful little square located behind iron gates. Having failed to find any No. 5, I asked the young gentleman who was sitting on one of the benches and obviously had a copy of the guide, where it was, and he directed me back where I had come from. Having done quite a bit of walking, I decided to have my cup of tea and a cake before I started the tour and learned quite a bit about the estate from the host - such things as the fact that if you didn't pay your rent on time, they just put your possessions out on the pavement. Also, if a tenant married, they had to pay ten shillings extra for their wife, as she was regarded as a lodger. While I was enjoying my cup of teac, who should come in but the young gentleman I had spoken to earlier, who it turned out lives only a few minutes' walk away from me - it's an awfully small world!
The tour took about an hour or so, and the notes provided were quite informative. It was originally built to provide good quality healthy accommodation for the poor from East London - the working poor, that is. You had to have a job and be able to pay the rent to get a house there. The rent office was next to Tower Gardens, and I assume the rent officer knew personally every person who lived on the estate.
Now, many of the houses have been sold off, others have been taken over by housing associations and others still remain as Council property.
It is a very peaceful place to live, with very little traffic, and no sound of loud music, despite the very mixed population.
Saturday, 21 September 2013
London Fire Brigade Museum
After the tour of the Southwark Recycling Facility, I caught a bus up the Old Kent Road, and went to visit the London Fire Brigade Museum, which is based in Southwark Bridge Road and was also taking part in the Open House weekend.
At first I walked past it, as what appeared to be a fire station was very firmly shut. However, when I started checking the street numbers, I realised that the museum was behind the fire station Built in 1820, it was formerly two houses, but was converted into one in 1878, to provide a home for the Chief Offficer of the London Fire Brigade, who demanded that he have a residence suitable for his status - he obviously had quite a high opinion of his status!
The Museum is based over three floors, and is open to the public, but today additional rooms on the ground floorcould be viewed, such as the dining room, the Chief Officer's room, and the living room - all quite grand and definitely designed to impress.
The Museum itself was very interesting, with stories of various major fires that the London Fire Brigade had been involved in, including the one in Tooley Street, which had highlighted the need to have boats on the river capable of delivering water to fires along the river bank.
There was a talk about the river boats, and how following the Tooley Street fire, where the Chief officer died and a very young Irishmanwith little experience but bags of enthusiasm and indeas, came to replace him, they became an important part of the service.
There was also an unusual display of hats hanging on a corridor wall - firemen's hats from all over the world, not only in a variety of colours, but of shapes as well.
As I was leaving, just before 4 o.clock when it was due to close, a whole party arrived - I don't know if they kept it open for a little while longer to enable them to see at last a bit of all the museum has to offer.
At first I walked past it, as what appeared to be a fire station was very firmly shut. However, when I started checking the street numbers, I realised that the museum was behind the fire station Built in 1820, it was formerly two houses, but was converted into one in 1878, to provide a home for the Chief Offficer of the London Fire Brigade, who demanded that he have a residence suitable for his status - he obviously had quite a high opinion of his status!
The Museum is based over three floors, and is open to the public, but today additional rooms on the ground floorcould be viewed, such as the dining room, the Chief Officer's room, and the living room - all quite grand and definitely designed to impress.
The Museum itself was very interesting, with stories of various major fires that the London Fire Brigade had been involved in, including the one in Tooley Street, which had highlighted the need to have boats on the river capable of delivering water to fires along the river bank.
There was a talk about the river boats, and how following the Tooley Street fire, where the Chief officer died and a very young Irishmanwith little experience but bags of enthusiasm and indeas, came to replace him, they became an important part of the service.
There was also an unusual display of hats hanging on a corridor wall - firemen's hats from all over the world, not only in a variety of colours, but of shapes as well.
As I was leaving, just before 4 o.clock when it was due to close, a whole party arrived - I don't know if they kept it open for a little while longer to enable them to see at last a bit of all the museum has to offer.
Southwark IntegratedWaste Management Facility
It's Open House Weekend, and I've just spent a day seeing things that aren't normally open to the public.
First stop was the Southwark Waste Recycling Facility in South London - it was quite easy to get to, as I jsut got the Overground from Olympia to Clapham Junction and then the other Overground, from the same platform, to Queens Road, Peckham. From there it was a fairly short walk to the Facility
First stop was the Southwark Waste Recycling Facility in South London - it was quite easy to get to, as I jsut got the Overground from Olympia to Clapham Junction and then the other Overground, from the same platform, to Queens Road, Peckham. From there it was a fairly short walk to the Facility
Saturday, 14 September 2013
Fair on Brook Green
On the way home from the Reading Group at the Library, where we nearly all agreed that "The Liars' Gospel" was a rather strange book that didn't have a great deal to recommend it, I stopped off at Brook Green to have a look at the Fair.
The weather wasn't ideal for an outdoor event - although it wasn't actually raining, the ground underfoot was wet and squelchy, and it was impossible to walk on the paths unless you were wearing boots, as they were so muddy.
The organisers had evidently put in a lot of effort, but there was rather a lot of empty space, and I wondered how many stall-holders had decided that the weather was really too uncertain to set up their stalls.
But the funfair was there, although at that time not doing much business, and there were several food stalls from which emanated delicious smells of hot food - had I not had something waiting at home, I would have been tempted to have lunch there.
There was the usual face painting, some craft stalls, and a local estate agent giving away books - donation for a local literacy charity optional. I came away with a book on the shortcomings of the BBC, and the charity was £1 richer.
I also added my email address to the form at the Chinese Church stall, to be notified of the date of their carol service. They are based on Brook Green, and the previous carol service I went to theire featured a girls pipe band from Melbourne - and also mince pies in the hall afterwards. Everything was In English, and I imagine most of the congregation are very settled here.
The weather wasn't ideal for an outdoor event - although it wasn't actually raining, the ground underfoot was wet and squelchy, and it was impossible to walk on the paths unless you were wearing boots, as they were so muddy.
The organisers had evidently put in a lot of effort, but there was rather a lot of empty space, and I wondered how many stall-holders had decided that the weather was really too uncertain to set up their stalls.
But the funfair was there, although at that time not doing much business, and there were several food stalls from which emanated delicious smells of hot food - had I not had something waiting at home, I would have been tempted to have lunch there.
There was the usual face painting, some craft stalls, and a local estate agent giving away books - donation for a local literacy charity optional. I came away with a book on the shortcomings of the BBC, and the charity was £1 richer.
I also added my email address to the form at the Chinese Church stall, to be notified of the date of their carol service. They are based on Brook Green, and the previous carol service I went to theire featured a girls pipe band from Melbourne - and also mince pies in the hall afterwards. Everything was In English, and I imagine most of the congregation are very settled here.
Saturday, 7 September 2013
Vermeer and Music
The Vermeer and Music Exhibition has been on at the National Gallery for a while, and tomorrow is the last day - it had been on my list of "Things to Do" ever since it opened, but I just hadn't got round to going.
It was well worth the effort. In an age when there was no means of recording anything, music was very effemeral - it existed only in the moment of time when it was being played. So if you wanted music, then you needed musicians to play it at the time, and those who could afford to spent a lot of time playing ad singing in their own homes.
As well as Vermeer's paintings, the exhibition also featured musical instruments from the period, and a further treat was a live performance by two talented young musicians.
A further treat was the film about the exhibition - most exhibitions seem to include a film, and they are usually very well-made and informative. This one was no exception.
It was well worth the effort. In an age when there was no means of recording anything, music was very effemeral - it existed only in the moment of time when it was being played. So if you wanted music, then you needed musicians to play it at the time, and those who could afford to spent a lot of time playing ad singing in their own homes.
As well as Vermeer's paintings, the exhibition also featured musical instruments from the period, and a further treat was a live performance by two talented young musicians.
A further treat was the film about the exhibition - most exhibitions seem to include a film, and they are usually very well-made and informative. This one was no exception.
Tuesday, 3 September 2013
Cosmetics, Chemicals and the Truth
A fascinating evening at the Chemistry Society, where there was a panel of experts discussing cosmetics, chemicals and the truth and answerign questiosn from the audience.
Even if you weren't terribly interested in cosmetics - and I can't say I am, except for their practical uses - it was still a very interesting evening, as the four experts discussed the latest advance and they way cosmetics havge changed over the ages.
Even if you weren't terribly interested in cosmetics - and I can't say I am, except for their practical uses - it was still a very interesting evening, as the four experts discussed the latest advance and they way cosmetics havge changed over the ages.
Saturday, 17 August 2013
Honiton & Axminster
South West Trains are offering special fares, go almost anywhere for £15 return. So I decided to go as far as I was allowed, in this case Honiton in Devon, famous for its lace and as far as I knew, nothing much else.
Setting off very early from Olympia, and buying my ticket at Clapham Junction, where I had to change, I had a very pleasant journey down there, though beautiful countryside which was still largely green.
The weather, however, was not very kind; it rained practically all day, and my brolly was very much in use.
Honiton is not very big but it is interesting, with lots of little individual shops and few if any of the large national ones. In a word, it has character.
I had morning tea, soon after I arrived, at the church in the High Street, where they were serving teas and cakes and selling books. The homemade jam sponge cake was delicious, and the tea was just what I needed after the journey.
The church was not particularly interesting, but just across the way from it was Honiton Museum, which mainly concentrated on the lace-making industry for which Honiton was famous.
Setting off very early from Olympia, and buying my ticket at Clapham Junction, where I had to change, I had a very pleasant journey down there, though beautiful countryside which was still largely green.
The weather, however, was not very kind; it rained practically all day, and my brolly was very much in use.
Honiton is not very big but it is interesting, with lots of little individual shops and few if any of the large national ones. In a word, it has character.
I had morning tea, soon after I arrived, at the church in the High Street, where they were serving teas and cakes and selling books. The homemade jam sponge cake was delicious, and the tea was just what I needed after the journey.
The church was not particularly interesting, but just across the way from it was Honiton Museum, which mainly concentrated on the lace-making industry for which Honiton was famous.
Sunday, 28 July 2013
Hastings
Another fine Saturday, and a chance to go out, this time to Hastings.
The journey there was very straightforward; I got the train at Olympia, changed at Clapham Junction and changed again at Brighton.
Hastings is a nice seaside town; gone are the net cottages on the front, but it has not been completely spoiled and still has a character of its own.
In the morning, I got the bus out to Bodiam Castle, which is a National Trust property. I had expected it to be a proper castle, but in fact it is just a ruin, but a very intersting ruin all the same.
Set in a tiny village in the middle of the country, it is well maintained, with plenty to see, although I didn't climb up any of the narrow staircases to the top. But I did look at everything else, and talked at length to the miller's wife, who was dressed in medieval costume, went to see the cannon beign fired, and spent some time in the museum learning more about the history of the casle and its unfortunate destruction. I also enjoyed a cup of tea and a cake in the cafe at the entrance, before getting the bus back to Hastings - they aren't very frequent, but they do stop right at the entrance to the castle.
Back in Hastings, I enjoyed the rest of the day looking round the town and also getting my hair trimmed.
Like so many places outside London, Hastings closes down at 5.30 p.m. on a Saturday - and also I suspect on all other nights. But that didn't matter on this occasion; by that time, a tremendous storm was blowing up, and I hurried along the beach to get to shelter before the rain really started coming down. I made it only just in time, as a flash of lightning and loud calp of thunder signalled the start of a downpour just as I was ready to go down the subway to cross the road.
It was obviously likely to go on for a while, so after waiting a short time I decided the best thing to do was to put up my brolly and head for the station - it seemed there was little chance of being able to enjoy a further walk along the front.
The journey there was very straightforward; I got the train at Olympia, changed at Clapham Junction and changed again at Brighton.
Hastings is a nice seaside town; gone are the net cottages on the front, but it has not been completely spoiled and still has a character of its own.
In the morning, I got the bus out to Bodiam Castle, which is a National Trust property. I had expected it to be a proper castle, but in fact it is just a ruin, but a very intersting ruin all the same.
Set in a tiny village in the middle of the country, it is well maintained, with plenty to see, although I didn't climb up any of the narrow staircases to the top. But I did look at everything else, and talked at length to the miller's wife, who was dressed in medieval costume, went to see the cannon beign fired, and spent some time in the museum learning more about the history of the casle and its unfortunate destruction. I also enjoyed a cup of tea and a cake in the cafe at the entrance, before getting the bus back to Hastings - they aren't very frequent, but they do stop right at the entrance to the castle.
Back in Hastings, I enjoyed the rest of the day looking round the town and also getting my hair trimmed.
Like so many places outside London, Hastings closes down at 5.30 p.m. on a Saturday - and also I suspect on all other nights. But that didn't matter on this occasion; by that time, a tremendous storm was blowing up, and I hurried along the beach to get to shelter before the rain really started coming down. I made it only just in time, as a flash of lightning and loud calp of thunder signalled the start of a downpour just as I was ready to go down the subway to cross the road.
It was obviously likely to go on for a while, so after waiting a short time I decided the best thing to do was to put up my brolly and head for the station - it seemed there was little chance of being able to enjoy a further walk along the front.
Friday, 26 July 2013
Tempting Fete
Yet another first class production from the Beaufort Players, who regularly perform in the Church Hall of the Church of the Ascension, Hanger Hill, a church I know well from sometimes attending Mass there in the mornings when I worked in Ealing ages ago.
The hall is a separate building behind the church, and is an excellent venue for staging plays, with a raised stage at the far end, and all the essentials for public performances, such as changing rooms, proper toilet facilities, a kitchen with serving hatch, blackout curtains for the windows, etc.
Tempting Fete was a comedy about a church fete in a small village in the country, where the rivalry between the baking experts could result, if not in murder of individuals, at least their cakes coming to unfortunate ends before, rather than after, the judging.
As all the ladies compete for the prize for the best cake, there are the usual inuendos, mistaken impressions and farcical situations.
Not a play that asked serious questions or dealt with important social issues (unless the intrigues and rivalries of a small village count), but an evening just to sit back and enjoy the antics pf all the characters.
The hall is a separate building behind the church, and is an excellent venue for staging plays, with a raised stage at the far end, and all the essentials for public performances, such as changing rooms, proper toilet facilities, a kitchen with serving hatch, blackout curtains for the windows, etc.
Tempting Fete was a comedy about a church fete in a small village in the country, where the rivalry between the baking experts could result, if not in murder of individuals, at least their cakes coming to unfortunate ends before, rather than after, the judging.
As all the ladies compete for the prize for the best cake, there are the usual inuendos, mistaken impressions and farcical situations.
Not a play that asked serious questions or dealt with important social issues (unless the intrigues and rivalries of a small village count), but an evening just to sit back and enjoy the antics pf all the characters.
Saturday, 13 July 2013
Littlehampton
Summer has now really arrived, and the forecast for London for the weekend was very hot. So I decided earlier in the week that I would have a day out at the seaside.
Southern Rail had been advertising tickets for just £5 each way (less a third if you had a Railcard) - a real bargain! - so I went after work to the Victoria to get some. Unfortunately, a lot of other people must have had the same idea, only earlier, and despite tens of thousands of them having been available, they had all gone, So had the next cheapest, at £7.50 (£5 with a Railcard), unless you wanted to travel late morning and have hardly any time at your destination. So I got an ordinary cheap day return to Littlehampton, which with a Railcard, cost just under £15.00, and had the advantage that I could travel any time, without being tied to particular trains. That is one disadvantage of a lot of these very special offers - you have to travel at a set time, and there are no refunds or transfers if you miss your train.
So Saturday morning I was up at six thirty and out of the house by ten past seven, to catch the train from Kensington Olympia, which is less than ten minutes' walk, to Clapham Junction, where I had to change for the Littlehampton train. It was a lovely morning; at that hour, the streets are almost deserted, the sun is still low in the sky and there is an air of peace and quiet that you don't get later in the day.
I had about a twenty minute wait at Clapham Junction, which gave me enough time to get a paper from one of the kiosks in the station, as the one at Kensington Olympia had been closed.
Clapham Junction is one of the busiest stations in the country, and even at that time on a Saturday morning the platforms were crowded with people. But I still managed to get a good seat, facing the direction of travel, next to a window and with a table, where I settled down catch up with the news. Papers on Saturdays are always large, with lots of supplements, although some of them, like the sport and motoring, are of no interest to me at all and get stuffed in the first waste paper bin in come to.
The journey down to Littlehampton was very pleasant, and I arrived just before 9.30 a.m.. From inside the air-conditioned train it looked a bit chilly outside, and I wondered whether I should have brought a cardigan, especially as the forecast for the South Coast had been much cooler than for London. But I needn't have worried; when I got out of the train it was pleasantly warm and I was dressed perfectly.
The station is no more than ten minutes walk from the town centre, which has most of the usual shops, together with a lot of little individual ones. One thing I did notice was how many of them seemed to have "Staff Wanted" notices in the windows - obviously there is a fair amount of work in Littlehampton, at least in the summer.
As I had had rather an early breakfast, it was now time for morning tea, and I popped int a tiny little cafe cum grocery called Coffee Shop Paradise, which had a few tables inside and also a couple outside. Naturally, I chose to drink my rather large cup of tea outside in the sun and fresh air.
After that it was time to explore the rest of the town. Littlehampton isn't very big - the population is only 25,000 - and you can walk from one end to the other is less than half an hour. The main street runs parallel to the beach, and there are there are numerous streets leading off it which go down to the front, which is about half a mile away. Passing St. Catherine's Church, I popped in to have a look, and considered going back fro Evening Prayer at 4.00 p.m. if I was around at that time. It looks quite old from the outside, but probably isn't; there didn't seem to be any history of the church available, and the only clue to its age was a memorial to the parishioners who died in the First World War on one of the outside walls. But is was beautiful inside, and I stayed a few minutes to look around before continuing on to the beach.
The beach at Littlehampton has both sand and shingle, and at low tide extends quite a way, although not nearly as far as Southend. Surprisingly, considering the weather, it was almost empty; there were a few people swimming or sitting on the beach, but none of the crowds one would havfe expected on a day like that. Evidently they must have all gone to closer places like Brighton, which actually isn't nearly as nice.
I wandered along the front as far as the River Arun, which forms the edge of the town, and then turned right to walk along the river. Littlehampton has been inhabited since Roman times ad was mentioned in the Doomesday Book of 1086, at which time it was just Hampton. The "Little" part of its name was added later to distinguish it from the much larger Southampton which is a little bit further along the cost to the west. At one time, it was an important port; one of its claims to fame is that the sheep of the Falklands Islands were exported from there. So the river does not just flow into the sea, but instead enters it between high man-made banks. Today, the cargo ships have gone, and the river is occupied by dozens of little pleasure boats.
The walk along the river was very enjoyable; it wasn't too hot, and there were a reasonable number of other people also enjoying the sunshine.. This part of Littlehampton is very much like most seaside towns; there is a fun park, with slides and merry-go- rounds, etc, lots of fish and chip shops (but also things like a Thai restaurant), and also souvenor shops. It also has one of the busiest RNLI stations, which was open to the public, so I went in and had a look at the lifeboats and the tractors which drag them down to the sea; the walls of the station are covered to posters about the history of the lifeboat service.
One thing Littlehampton has that other towns don't, are recipes on large discs set on concrete blocks. They all seeemed to be for fish dishes - hardly surprising in a town with am important fishing industry. They were sited all along the road next to the river.
I spent a little bit of time at the Look and Sea exhibition set between a fairly expensive restaurant and the Tourist Information Office; it was quite interesting, briefly covering the history of Littlehampton from the distant past to the present. I passed the Oyster Pond, with its little paddle boats for hire, and ended up back in the town centre.
The next place I wanted to visit was the Museum, but I was starting to feel a little bit hungry, so went to a rather nice little place called Hunnies for lunch. They serve a reasonable selection of plain food; I had scrambled eggs on toast with hash browns and a pot of tea, which was more than enough to keep me going for the rest of the day.
The Museum is in a large manor house in Church Street, and although it's quite small, it's very interesting. Currently, it has a special display celebrating the 150th anniversary of the coming of the railway to Littlehampto. The railway changed it from being a small, rather isolated little port that no-one visited to a popular seaside resort which was easily accessible from London, and marked the beginning of the tourist industry.
Whilst there I noticed that they were running a competition for a poster to popularise Littlehampton; I took down the details and if I get time I'm going to design one and enter it.
Littlehampton has connections with a number of famous people, including Anita Roddick, who opened the first Body Shop there, Ronnie Barker lived there, and Kitty O'Shea is buried there.
After having a good look around Littlehampton, I got a bus to Goring-by-Sea and them walked to Worthing along the front; again, there weren't all that many people there - just take enough to make the place look alive.
I could have stayed in Worthing, enjoying the sea, and got the train from there, but I wanted to take sopme photos of Littlehampton to use on the poster (assuming I get time to go one!). So I got a bus - a No. 700 double-decker Coastliner this time, with a much better view - back to Littlehampton. By this time it was well after six, the sun was starting to go down, and it wasn't so bright and glary - much better lighting for taking photographs.
I took piles of pictures - of the museum, the clock tower, the church, the sea-front, the river, the lighthouse, the recipe discs, the boats on the river, the Oyster Pond, the fish & chip shops, the pubs, the beautiful hanging baskets of flowers in the High Street - everything that I thought looked interesting and would look good on a poster. I haven't downloaded them yet; that is a task for later, and also editing them.
I finally caught the 8.15 p.m. train, and again managed to get a good seat, despite there being quite a lot of people on it - mainly because I got there nice and early, before everyone else. As a lot of trains terminate there, they spent some time on the platform between arrival and departure back to London.
The journey back was also enjoyable; I love travelling by train in the evenings, and of course, it was still light for a considerable part of the journey. The countryside is still remarkably green, which is probably to be expected after the long, wet winter we have had. There were herds of cows in the fields, although I didn't notice any sheep. I'm not sure what breed the cows were - possibly something like Charolais - they were definitely not Friesians or Jerseys. But they looked so peaceful and contented, grazing in the fields.
I finally got home a little before half nine, to a London which was still warm, but with quite a nice breeze; although the days have been terribly hot, so far the nights have been reasonable cool. I dread the time when the nights are equally hot and sleep is almost impossible.
Southern Rail had been advertising tickets for just £5 each way (less a third if you had a Railcard) - a real bargain! - so I went after work to the Victoria to get some. Unfortunately, a lot of other people must have had the same idea, only earlier, and despite tens of thousands of them having been available, they had all gone, So had the next cheapest, at £7.50 (£5 with a Railcard), unless you wanted to travel late morning and have hardly any time at your destination. So I got an ordinary cheap day return to Littlehampton, which with a Railcard, cost just under £15.00, and had the advantage that I could travel any time, without being tied to particular trains. That is one disadvantage of a lot of these very special offers - you have to travel at a set time, and there are no refunds or transfers if you miss your train.
So Saturday morning I was up at six thirty and out of the house by ten past seven, to catch the train from Kensington Olympia, which is less than ten minutes' walk, to Clapham Junction, where I had to change for the Littlehampton train. It was a lovely morning; at that hour, the streets are almost deserted, the sun is still low in the sky and there is an air of peace and quiet that you don't get later in the day.
I had about a twenty minute wait at Clapham Junction, which gave me enough time to get a paper from one of the kiosks in the station, as the one at Kensington Olympia had been closed.
Clapham Junction is one of the busiest stations in the country, and even at that time on a Saturday morning the platforms were crowded with people. But I still managed to get a good seat, facing the direction of travel, next to a window and with a table, where I settled down catch up with the news. Papers on Saturdays are always large, with lots of supplements, although some of them, like the sport and motoring, are of no interest to me at all and get stuffed in the first waste paper bin in come to.
The journey down to Littlehampton was very pleasant, and I arrived just before 9.30 a.m.. From inside the air-conditioned train it looked a bit chilly outside, and I wondered whether I should have brought a cardigan, especially as the forecast for the South Coast had been much cooler than for London. But I needn't have worried; when I got out of the train it was pleasantly warm and I was dressed perfectly.
The station is no more than ten minutes walk from the town centre, which has most of the usual shops, together with a lot of little individual ones. One thing I did notice was how many of them seemed to have "Staff Wanted" notices in the windows - obviously there is a fair amount of work in Littlehampton, at least in the summer.
As I had had rather an early breakfast, it was now time for morning tea, and I popped int a tiny little cafe cum grocery called Coffee Shop Paradise, which had a few tables inside and also a couple outside. Naturally, I chose to drink my rather large cup of tea outside in the sun and fresh air.
After that it was time to explore the rest of the town. Littlehampton isn't very big - the population is only 25,000 - and you can walk from one end to the other is less than half an hour. The main street runs parallel to the beach, and there are there are numerous streets leading off it which go down to the front, which is about half a mile away. Passing St. Catherine's Church, I popped in to have a look, and considered going back fro Evening Prayer at 4.00 p.m. if I was around at that time. It looks quite old from the outside, but probably isn't; there didn't seem to be any history of the church available, and the only clue to its age was a memorial to the parishioners who died in the First World War on one of the outside walls. But is was beautiful inside, and I stayed a few minutes to look around before continuing on to the beach.
The beach at Littlehampton has both sand and shingle, and at low tide extends quite a way, although not nearly as far as Southend. Surprisingly, considering the weather, it was almost empty; there were a few people swimming or sitting on the beach, but none of the crowds one would havfe expected on a day like that. Evidently they must have all gone to closer places like Brighton, which actually isn't nearly as nice.
I wandered along the front as far as the River Arun, which forms the edge of the town, and then turned right to walk along the river. Littlehampton has been inhabited since Roman times ad was mentioned in the Doomesday Book of 1086, at which time it was just Hampton. The "Little" part of its name was added later to distinguish it from the much larger Southampton which is a little bit further along the cost to the west. At one time, it was an important port; one of its claims to fame is that the sheep of the Falklands Islands were exported from there. So the river does not just flow into the sea, but instead enters it between high man-made banks. Today, the cargo ships have gone, and the river is occupied by dozens of little pleasure boats.
The walk along the river was very enjoyable; it wasn't too hot, and there were a reasonable number of other people also enjoying the sunshine.. This part of Littlehampton is very much like most seaside towns; there is a fun park, with slides and merry-go- rounds, etc, lots of fish and chip shops (but also things like a Thai restaurant), and also souvenor shops. It also has one of the busiest RNLI stations, which was open to the public, so I went in and had a look at the lifeboats and the tractors which drag them down to the sea; the walls of the station are covered to posters about the history of the lifeboat service.
One thing Littlehampton has that other towns don't, are recipes on large discs set on concrete blocks. They all seeemed to be for fish dishes - hardly surprising in a town with am important fishing industry. They were sited all along the road next to the river.
I spent a little bit of time at the Look and Sea exhibition set between a fairly expensive restaurant and the Tourist Information Office; it was quite interesting, briefly covering the history of Littlehampton from the distant past to the present. I passed the Oyster Pond, with its little paddle boats for hire, and ended up back in the town centre.
The next place I wanted to visit was the Museum, but I was starting to feel a little bit hungry, so went to a rather nice little place called Hunnies for lunch. They serve a reasonable selection of plain food; I had scrambled eggs on toast with hash browns and a pot of tea, which was more than enough to keep me going for the rest of the day.
The Museum is in a large manor house in Church Street, and although it's quite small, it's very interesting. Currently, it has a special display celebrating the 150th anniversary of the coming of the railway to Littlehampto. The railway changed it from being a small, rather isolated little port that no-one visited to a popular seaside resort which was easily accessible from London, and marked the beginning of the tourist industry.
Whilst there I noticed that they were running a competition for a poster to popularise Littlehampton; I took down the details and if I get time I'm going to design one and enter it.
Littlehampton has connections with a number of famous people, including Anita Roddick, who opened the first Body Shop there, Ronnie Barker lived there, and Kitty O'Shea is buried there.
After having a good look around Littlehampton, I got a bus to Goring-by-Sea and them walked to Worthing along the front; again, there weren't all that many people there - just take enough to make the place look alive.
I could have stayed in Worthing, enjoying the sea, and got the train from there, but I wanted to take sopme photos of Littlehampton to use on the poster (assuming I get time to go one!). So I got a bus - a No. 700 double-decker Coastliner this time, with a much better view - back to Littlehampton. By this time it was well after six, the sun was starting to go down, and it wasn't so bright and glary - much better lighting for taking photographs.
I took piles of pictures - of the museum, the clock tower, the church, the sea-front, the river, the lighthouse, the recipe discs, the boats on the river, the Oyster Pond, the fish & chip shops, the pubs, the beautiful hanging baskets of flowers in the High Street - everything that I thought looked interesting and would look good on a poster. I haven't downloaded them yet; that is a task for later, and also editing them.
I finally caught the 8.15 p.m. train, and again managed to get a good seat, despite there being quite a lot of people on it - mainly because I got there nice and early, before everyone else. As a lot of trains terminate there, they spent some time on the platform between arrival and departure back to London.
The journey back was also enjoyable; I love travelling by train in the evenings, and of course, it was still light for a considerable part of the journey. The countryside is still remarkably green, which is probably to be expected after the long, wet winter we have had. There were herds of cows in the fields, although I didn't notice any sheep. I'm not sure what breed the cows were - possibly something like Charolais - they were definitely not Friesians or Jerseys. But they looked so peaceful and contented, grazing in the fields.
I finally got home a little before half nine, to a London which was still warm, but with quite a nice breeze; although the days have been terribly hot, so far the nights have been reasonable cool. I dread the time when the nights are equally hot and sleep is almost impossible.
Sunday, 7 July 2013
Welsh Harp
It's years since I had been to the Welsh Harp, otherwise known as Brent Reservoir, but the sun was shining and I decided to pay it another visit.
It took quite a long time to get to; the Overground from Shepherd's Bush to Willesden, then another Overground train to Kilburn Park Road, followed by a bus up the Edgware Road.
But I got there eventually, and spent a very pleasant couple of hours walking in the park along the edge of the Reservoir, before finding a place to sit on the grass beside the water and read - I'm currently reading a book on the early life of the Queen, which is fascinating. There were a number of families there with small children, who had brought rugs along to sit on and looked as if they had been there all afternoon.
The reservoir itself was a bit smelly in some places; the water didn't look too clean, and I certainly wouldn't want to swim in it, even if it were allowed, which I'm sure it isn't. But there were plenty of birds swimming on it, particularly swans, which were gliding along everywhere.
The path along the lake had plenty of shady bits, which was just as well, considering how hot it was, but there were few seats to sit on - they obviously like people to walk or sit on the grass, which in this weather is no hardship, although the grass was still very green.
It took quite a long time to get to; the Overground from Shepherd's Bush to Willesden, then another Overground train to Kilburn Park Road, followed by a bus up the Edgware Road.
But I got there eventually, and spent a very pleasant couple of hours walking in the park along the edge of the Reservoir, before finding a place to sit on the grass beside the water and read - I'm currently reading a book on the early life of the Queen, which is fascinating. There were a number of families there with small children, who had brought rugs along to sit on and looked as if they had been there all afternoon.
The reservoir itself was a bit smelly in some places; the water didn't look too clean, and I certainly wouldn't want to swim in it, even if it were allowed, which I'm sure it isn't. But there were plenty of birds swimming on it, particularly swans, which were gliding along everywhere.
The path along the lake had plenty of shady bits, which was just as well, considering how hot it was, but there were few seats to sit on - they obviously like people to walk or sit on the grass, which in this weather is no hardship, although the grass was still very green.
Saturday, 6 July 2013
Ancient Arab Christian Chants
This evening I went to an event, part of the Shubakk Festival, at the Mosaic Rooms in Cromwell Road. I had never been there before, but they were very easy to find, being right on the corner of Earls Court Road.
The event was a recital of early Arab Christian chants, which date back to the second century, during the reign of Queen Zanubia, when Christianity reached Palmyra, the town she governed in ancient Syria. The early chants from this period were based on the secular music of Syria and Iraq, and have developed into the chants used in Orthodox worship today.
Lead by Egyptian/German singer Merit Ariane Stephanos and Father Shafiq Abouzayd, whom I remembered seeing at the Lebanese Festival the previous Sunday, we were given a brief introduction to this ancient music, in particular to the chanting traditions of the Levantine and Byzantine churches, such as the ancient Syriac liturgy of Aleppo. They were accompanied by multi-instrumentalist Jon Banks, who played two Middle-Eastern stringed instruments, whose names I cannot remember.
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The music was beautiful and haunting, although quite unlike Western music. Merit Ariane Stephanos has a wonderful voice, and Father Shafiq must have no difficulty at all in singing the liturgy, with his deep, volumous singing voice. UnfortunatelyI found his speaking voice a little hard to understand, as he spoke so quietly and has a slight accent.
The room where the recital was held was at the back, overlooking a largish garden; it must be very pleasant working there in the summer and being able to sit outside at lunchtime.
The event was a recital of early Arab Christian chants, which date back to the second century, during the reign of Queen Zanubia, when Christianity reached Palmyra, the town she governed in ancient Syria. The early chants from this period were based on the secular music of Syria and Iraq, and have developed into the chants used in Orthodox worship today.
Lead by Egyptian/German singer Merit Ariane Stephanos and Father Shafiq Abouzayd, whom I remembered seeing at the Lebanese Festival the previous Sunday, we were given a brief introduction to this ancient music, in particular to the chanting traditions of the Levantine and Byzantine churches, such as the ancient Syriac liturgy of Aleppo. They were accompanied by multi-instrumentalist Jon Banks, who played two Middle-Eastern stringed instruments, whose names I cannot remember.
.
The music was beautiful and haunting, although quite unlike Western music. Merit Ariane Stephanos has a wonderful voice, and Father Shafiq must have no difficulty at all in singing the liturgy, with his deep, volumous singing voice. UnfortunatelyI found his speaking voice a little hard to understand, as he spoke so quietly and has a slight accent.
The room where the recital was held was at the back, overlooking a largish garden; it must be very pleasant working there in the summer and being able to sit outside at lunchtime.
Fair on the Green
This afternoon I went to the Fair on the Green at Parsons Green, a community event which always attracts a large number of stalls and equally large crowds, especially on a perfect day for it like today - the sun was shining, with not a cloud in the sky.
As I went straight there via the reading group and a visit to the art exhibition at the library in the morning, followed by a trip to North End Road market afterwards, I was starting to feel hungry by the time I arrived, and managed to get a very nice lunch from the Serbian stall - filo pastry stuffed with cheese and another one stuffed with spinach. Absolutely delicious, both of them! I sat on the grass to eat and read the paper, and when I had finished, wandered round all the stalls selling everything from food to new clothes to jewellery to bric-a-brac. All I came back with though were three scented candles and a bar of soap, though I was tempted to get one of the dressed dolls on one of the stalls for Marina's baby for Christmas. However, in the end I decided against; they were much too big for a six month old baby.
There was a stage, with constant entertainment, but unlike at most such events, they didn't have the amplifers turned up full blast, and the music was just a nice sound in the background.
But the most interesting part of the Fair was a staged car crash, with the Fire Brigade giving a demonstration of how they would rescue someone with suspected spinal injuries. The car was obviously some old banger that was worthless, but the driver wasn't wearing a seat-belt and had been thrown forward, shattering the windscreen. She was therefore assumed to have suffered spinal injuries.
Before watching the demonstration, I hadn't a clue how they went about rescuing someome in that situation. One fireman immediately opened the rear door and climbed in to support the driver's head to prevent any further injury. Others put chocs under the wheels to stop the car moving, then put blocks under it, before letting down the tires so that the car rested on the blocks. They then broke all the glass in the doors, allowing the pieces to falls into a bag which they had thrown over the door. Following that, they removed the doors, cutting through the joins, and finally removed the roof so that they had full access. Lastly, they slid the woman onto a stretcher, all the while keeping her head and spine immobile, and removed her through the back of the vehicle, ready to go into the ambulance. Apparently during this part of the operation, the fireman holding the injured person's head takes over as the one in charge.
The whole procedure took almost half an hour; the commentator said they aimed to get the person out of the car within an hour.
I found the whole thing fascinating; obviously everyone involved must have had a lot of trainng to be able to carry out the rescue confidently.
I didn't stay until the end of the Fair, as I wanted to go back to North End Road to buy the week's vegetables - they are so much cheaper than the supermarkets, even with their special offers. For instance, I got ten small avocados for just £1, and also four large bunches of spring onions for the same price.
As I went straight there via the reading group and a visit to the art exhibition at the library in the morning, followed by a trip to North End Road market afterwards, I was starting to feel hungry by the time I arrived, and managed to get a very nice lunch from the Serbian stall - filo pastry stuffed with cheese and another one stuffed with spinach. Absolutely delicious, both of them! I sat on the grass to eat and read the paper, and when I had finished, wandered round all the stalls selling everything from food to new clothes to jewellery to bric-a-brac. All I came back with though were three scented candles and a bar of soap, though I was tempted to get one of the dressed dolls on one of the stalls for Marina's baby for Christmas. However, in the end I decided against; they were much too big for a six month old baby.
There was a stage, with constant entertainment, but unlike at most such events, they didn't have the amplifers turned up full blast, and the music was just a nice sound in the background.
But the most interesting part of the Fair was a staged car crash, with the Fire Brigade giving a demonstration of how they would rescue someone with suspected spinal injuries. The car was obviously some old banger that was worthless, but the driver wasn't wearing a seat-belt and had been thrown forward, shattering the windscreen. She was therefore assumed to have suffered spinal injuries.
Before watching the demonstration, I hadn't a clue how they went about rescuing someome in that situation. One fireman immediately opened the rear door and climbed in to support the driver's head to prevent any further injury. Others put chocs under the wheels to stop the car moving, then put blocks under it, before letting down the tires so that the car rested on the blocks. They then broke all the glass in the doors, allowing the pieces to falls into a bag which they had thrown over the door. Following that, they removed the doors, cutting through the joins, and finally removed the roof so that they had full access. Lastly, they slid the woman onto a stretcher, all the while keeping her head and spine immobile, and removed her through the back of the vehicle, ready to go into the ambulance. Apparently during this part of the operation, the fireman holding the injured person's head takes over as the one in charge.
The whole procedure took almost half an hour; the commentator said they aimed to get the person out of the car within an hour.
I found the whole thing fascinating; obviously everyone involved must have had a lot of trainng to be able to carry out the rescue confidently.
I didn't stay until the end of the Fair, as I wanted to go back to North End Road to buy the week's vegetables - they are so much cheaper than the supermarkets, even with their special offers. For instance, I got ten small avocados for just £1, and also four large bunches of spring onions for the same price.
Art Exhibition
Brook Green was once famous for its artists, and Gilla Slocock of the Brook Green Association had organised a short an exhibition, covering the period 1890 - 1940, upstairs at Hammersmith Library. So of course I went along to see it.
One of the main artists featured was Arthur Silver (1853 - 1896), who owned Silver Studioe, based at 84 Brook green and in other houses in Haarlem Road. Others covered by the exhibition were Cyril Power, Sybil Andrews and Leon Underwood.
The walls of the room were taken up by prints of their works, which showed how talented they were as artists. Many of the paintings were rather stylised, with various figures in a state of movement; but although they were completely different to photographic portrayals, there was something were strikign about them, particularly the figures of the skaters, the dancers and the flying swans. I would never have anything by someone like Picasso on my walls, but I would happily have some of those paintings, with their vibrant colours and unusual way of portraying objects in movement.
One of the main artists featured was Arthur Silver (1853 - 1896), who owned Silver Studioe, based at 84 Brook green and in other houses in Haarlem Road. Others covered by the exhibition were Cyril Power, Sybil Andrews and Leon Underwood.
The walls of the room were taken up by prints of their works, which showed how talented they were as artists. Many of the paintings were rather stylised, with various figures in a state of movement; but although they were completely different to photographic portrayals, there was something were strikign about them, particularly the figures of the skaters, the dancers and the flying swans. I would never have anything by someone like Picasso on my walls, but I would happily have some of those paintings, with their vibrant colours and unusual way of portraying objects in movement.
Thursday, 4 July 2013
Balancing World Energy Needs
Another lecture at the Chemistry Society, this time entitled "Balancing World Engergy Needs: Securing the Future".
I got there at bit later than usual. Although I left work on time, as I was walking up the escalator at Green Park I suddenly became aware that there was something wrong with my shoe. On having a look, I discovered that the sole had almsot come adrift and was just held to the shoe at the heel. It was possible to walk carefully on it, but the slightest mishap would obviusly result in my being shoeless, which was not a good idea. I was a little bit annoyed, as they were Clarke's, and although I had had them for years, I had hardly ever worn them.
There were no shoe shops in Piccadilly, but Clarke's in Regent Street was still open, and I managed to get quite a nice pair of tan sandals in the sale, which I wore for the rest of the evening, with my old shoes stuffed in my bag.
However, despite the detour, I was back by 6 o'clock, when the hall opens, and spent a very pleasant half hour chatting over coffee and biscuits to a woman I had met previously at a couple of their lectures. The people at the Chemictry Society lectures are generally very friendly and chatty and interesting to talk to.
As usual there was a good crowd there and almost every seat was taken; however with many people's liking for sitting at the back, I was still able to get a seat near the front where I could see and heal.
The lecture was given by a Prof. Karl Rose - an Austrian with perfect English (why do so many Continentals speak such perfect English!). Director, Policy & Scenarios st the World Energy Council in London, his subject was the challenge of balancing world energy needs to bring about real change for future generations of the planet, and we were given details of various scenarios based on demonstrable trends, which will be published at the World Energy Conference in October. He emphasised that their three possible scenarios were based on facts; there was no room in their scenarios for scaremongering and theories with nothing to back them up.
He also pointed out that different countries had different objectives, and that the cost of energy varied enormously between different countries, so that what was practical in one might be totally unacceptable in another.
He was also sceptical about global warming, and the effects of CO2 on climate.
Altogether an interesting lecture, and I'm sure many people left feeling that they could live very happily with American level energy costs!
Saturday, 29 June 2013
A Moment of Holy Contemplation
Another concert at St. Matthew's Church in Sinclair Road, and again featuring sopranist Dorinel Bastide, together with Hilda Teng on the piano and tenor Fraser Steel.
As always, Dorinel sang beautifully; the subtitle of the programme was "An Evening of Sacred Songs" and that was a good description.
The concert was in aid of Sightsavers, who do so much to treat eye disease in Third World countries, and we were luck enough to get Frances Johnson, from Sightsavers, to come along at extremely short notice to talk about their work,
As always, Dorinel sang beautifully; the subtitle of the programme was "An Evening of Sacred Songs" and that was a good description.
The concert was in aid of Sightsavers, who do so much to treat eye disease in Third World countries, and we were luck enough to get Frances Johnson, from Sightsavers, to come along at extremely short notice to talk about their work,
Monday, 24 June 2013
History of Belgravia
On Monday evening I went to a lecture at Victoria Library in Buckingham palace Road, given by an archivist from Westminster Archives on the history of Belgravia and Pimlico.
it was a fascinating lecture, accompanied by slides on a computer, and I left feeling I knew a bit more about the area than when I arrived - no, a lot more about it,
The lecturer was extremely knowledgable and promised to email us copies of her notes; there was far too much to take in, so i will be able to refresh my memory later,
it was a fascinating lecture, accompanied by slides on a computer, and I left feeling I knew a bit more about the area than when I arrived - no, a lot more about it,
The lecturer was extremely knowledgable and promised to email us copies of her notes; there was far too much to take in, so i will be able to refresh my memory later,
Saturday, 22 June 2013
Music from the Coronation of Elizabeth I
Saturday evening I went to a concert at Southwark Cathedral, where the Renaissance Singers were performing works from the coronation of Elizabeth I. Quite a change from the afternoon's offering!
Southwark Cathedral, although not enormous, is still quite large, and provides a splendid venue for concerts like this.
I'd heard the Renaissance Singers before, so expected the concert would be very good, and I was not disappointed. A mixed choir of about 30/40 singers, all smartly dressed in black, they sang a variety of music mostly, but not entirely, from the actual coronation.
There was also a commentary, from which I learned quite a lot of things which I hadn't known previously about here coronation, For instance, she should have been crowned by the Archbishop of Canterbury, but unfortunately he had recently died and no-one new had been appointed, Next in line was the Archbishop of York, but unfortunately he was in prison, so couldn't do it. Several other who were further down the line made excuses not to do it, and finally the Bishop of Carlisle agreed.
Despite her own religious views, Elizabeth I was crowned according the the rites of the Catholic Church, with much ceremonial. However, disapproving of the elevation of the Host before communion, she disappeared into a side room so she didn't have to be present. Before her coronation, she had made a very leisurely journey to Westminster Abbey, meeting her subjects on the way, and after all the ceremonies were over, she again mingled with the people, who were extremely enthusiastic about their new young queen, who apparently took the vows of her coronation very seriously indeed.
She was so much loved that the day of her accession became a public holiday for 200 years - perhaps we should start a tradition of a public holiday for the accession of our current Queen, who has contributed to much to the life of the nation.
I was lucky enough to be able to get a front seat, which made the concert even more enjoyable; it was a delight to be able to just sit there and let the music swirl around me.
There is something about the music from that period; not only was a tremendous amount produced, but so much of it it absolutely beautiful to listen to.
Southwark Cathedral, although not enormous, is still quite large, and provides a splendid venue for concerts like this.
I'd heard the Renaissance Singers before, so expected the concert would be very good, and I was not disappointed. A mixed choir of about 30/40 singers, all smartly dressed in black, they sang a variety of music mostly, but not entirely, from the actual coronation.
There was also a commentary, from which I learned quite a lot of things which I hadn't known previously about here coronation, For instance, she should have been crowned by the Archbishop of Canterbury, but unfortunately he had recently died and no-one new had been appointed, Next in line was the Archbishop of York, but unfortunately he was in prison, so couldn't do it. Several other who were further down the line made excuses not to do it, and finally the Bishop of Carlisle agreed.
Despite her own religious views, Elizabeth I was crowned according the the rites of the Catholic Church, with much ceremonial. However, disapproving of the elevation of the Host before communion, she disappeared into a side room so she didn't have to be present. Before her coronation, she had made a very leisurely journey to Westminster Abbey, meeting her subjects on the way, and after all the ceremonies were over, she again mingled with the people, who were extremely enthusiastic about their new young queen, who apparently took the vows of her coronation very seriously indeed.
She was so much loved that the day of her accession became a public holiday for 200 years - perhaps we should start a tradition of a public holiday for the accession of our current Queen, who has contributed to much to the life of the nation.
I was lucky enough to be able to get a front seat, which made the concert even more enjoyable; it was a delight to be able to just sit there and let the music swirl around me.
There is something about the music from that period; not only was a tremendous amount produced, but so much of it it absolutely beautiful to listen to.
Excerpts from the Musicals
Another event in Trafalgar Square - a day long selection from various current musicals,
When I go there, with some friends, about one o'clock, it wasn't really busy; the queue to get in was moving rapidly, and there wasn't any waiting, except for the time needed to snake around the barriers. Obviously they had been expecting a far larger crowd than actually came.
We were able to find a place on the steps on the left hand side of the square, where we had a good view of the large screen where they were showing the live performance on the stage; there didn't seem much pint in trying to get a place directly in front of the stage, which actually was crowded with a very enthusiastic audience.
Unfortunately, I wasn't terribly taken with the music, Most of it was far too loud and certainly wouldn't have encourage me to go along and see any of the shows. Obviously, West End theatres have got louder since I was last at a performance! That said, the crowd in front of the stage were obviously enjoying it.
Although it didn't ruin the afternoon by raining, the sky was very overcast with black clouds threatening to spoil everything with a downpour. We left just before three o'clock, as we were getting hungry, and repaired to the nice little cafe just across the road, where they serve good plain food at very reasonable prices - unlike some of the other establishments in the West End!
When I go there, with some friends, about one o'clock, it wasn't really busy; the queue to get in was moving rapidly, and there wasn't any waiting, except for the time needed to snake around the barriers. Obviously they had been expecting a far larger crowd than actually came.
We were able to find a place on the steps on the left hand side of the square, where we had a good view of the large screen where they were showing the live performance on the stage; there didn't seem much pint in trying to get a place directly in front of the stage, which actually was crowded with a very enthusiastic audience.
Unfortunately, I wasn't terribly taken with the music, Most of it was far too loud and certainly wouldn't have encourage me to go along and see any of the shows. Obviously, West End theatres have got louder since I was last at a performance! That said, the crowd in front of the stage were obviously enjoying it.
Although it didn't ruin the afternoon by raining, the sky was very overcast with black clouds threatening to spoil everything with a downpour. We left just before three o'clock, as we were getting hungry, and repaired to the nice little cafe just across the road, where they serve good plain food at very reasonable prices - unlike some of the other establishments in the West End!
Sunday, 16 June 2013
Propaganda
The Propaganda Exhibition at the British Library has been open since mid May, but I hadn't had a chance to go and see it until now.
When I booked I asked how long it would take to go around, as it was already 2.30 p.m., and was told just over an hour. Well, I was there until a quarter to five, and wouldn't say I had studied everything in great detail.
The full title was Propaganda - Power and Persuasion, and the aim of the exhibition was to look at the role propaganda played in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries - a rather large undertaking, considering the wide definition they gave it.
It started with the origins of propaganda, when it had no negative connotations, but simply referred to the propagation of information, as by the Catholic Church.
Since then, of course, it has grown in scope, and become an important tool of governments, enabling them to direct and influence public opinion, and the second part of the exhibition looked at this aspect of propaganda under the heading of "Nation". Governments use propaganda to build a strong, united state, inculcating shared values, beliefs and interests among the people. They use it to bind people together and make them feel that they are part of something good and positive. The cheap radios which the Germans produced and encouraged everyone to buy in the 1930s were an important tool in getting the message across to the population that Germany was a great nation. One unusual item in this section was a recording of the National Anthems of a large number of countries - national anthems are frequently nationalistic, and are used to bind citizens together.
Equally, nations sometimes use propaganda to demonise other nations, and the third section was entitled "Enemy" Posters from the Second World War clearly demonstrated this use of propaganda.
The fourth section was called "War", a time when propaganda really comes into its own. Every nation at war needs to strengthen and encourage its own people, and produce, at the very least, dislike of the enemy. Biased, or even completley false, information is one way of doing this, and it didn't end with the Second World War - it's still very much alive today, as in the case of Tony Blair saying that Saddam Hussain had WMDs and declaring that he could bomb London in 45 minutes. Frankly, I thought he was a lying toad and said so to anyone who would listen, but a great many people believed him, and so we went to war.
The fifth section was on "Health" , and the way the government tries to influence behaviour, from the "Stope Smoking" campaigns to the "Don't Die of Ignorance" AIDS campaign and the "Green Cross Code".
Lastly, it looked at the 21st century, when propaganda is even more alive and well, with a hugely larger means of spreading instant information. Now everyone can be a propagandist if they want, by posting information on the internet.
The sheer scope of the exhibition made it impossible to take more than the briefest look at each section, any one of which could have justified a complete exhibition just to itself.
An intersting feature of the leaflet accompanying the exhibition was a "User's guide to basic techniques" or perhaps it should have been called "How to deceive people without them knowing it". Either way, it outlined the way in which people, usually politicians, but also others such as salesmen, seek to influence how people think, not necessarily by telling outright lies, but by propagating half-truths, statements with just enough truth for people to believe them.
When I booked I asked how long it would take to go around, as it was already 2.30 p.m., and was told just over an hour. Well, I was there until a quarter to five, and wouldn't say I had studied everything in great detail.
The full title was Propaganda - Power and Persuasion, and the aim of the exhibition was to look at the role propaganda played in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries - a rather large undertaking, considering the wide definition they gave it.
It started with the origins of propaganda, when it had no negative connotations, but simply referred to the propagation of information, as by the Catholic Church.
Since then, of course, it has grown in scope, and become an important tool of governments, enabling them to direct and influence public opinion, and the second part of the exhibition looked at this aspect of propaganda under the heading of "Nation". Governments use propaganda to build a strong, united state, inculcating shared values, beliefs and interests among the people. They use it to bind people together and make them feel that they are part of something good and positive. The cheap radios which the Germans produced and encouraged everyone to buy in the 1930s were an important tool in getting the message across to the population that Germany was a great nation. One unusual item in this section was a recording of the National Anthems of a large number of countries - national anthems are frequently nationalistic, and are used to bind citizens together.
Equally, nations sometimes use propaganda to demonise other nations, and the third section was entitled "Enemy" Posters from the Second World War clearly demonstrated this use of propaganda.
The fourth section was called "War", a time when propaganda really comes into its own. Every nation at war needs to strengthen and encourage its own people, and produce, at the very least, dislike of the enemy. Biased, or even completley false, information is one way of doing this, and it didn't end with the Second World War - it's still very much alive today, as in the case of Tony Blair saying that Saddam Hussain had WMDs and declaring that he could bomb London in 45 minutes. Frankly, I thought he was a lying toad and said so to anyone who would listen, but a great many people believed him, and so we went to war.
The fifth section was on "Health" , and the way the government tries to influence behaviour, from the "Stope Smoking" campaigns to the "Don't Die of Ignorance" AIDS campaign and the "Green Cross Code".
Lastly, it looked at the 21st century, when propaganda is even more alive and well, with a hugely larger means of spreading instant information. Now everyone can be a propagandist if they want, by posting information on the internet.
The sheer scope of the exhibition made it impossible to take more than the briefest look at each section, any one of which could have justified a complete exhibition just to itself.
An intersting feature of the leaflet accompanying the exhibition was a "User's guide to basic techniques" or perhaps it should have been called "How to deceive people without them knowing it". Either way, it outlined the way in which people, usually politicians, but also others such as salesmen, seek to influence how people think, not necessarily by telling outright lies, but by propagating half-truths, statements with just enough truth for people to believe them.
Saturday, 15 June 2013
Antiquarian Book Fair
The Antiquarian Book Fair at Olympia is quite a big event, with antiquarian booksellers from all over the world - literally! The furthest they came to it was from Australia, and you can't get much further than that.
I spent a very pleasant hour or two wandering around looking at all the ancient books and manuscripts - and marvelling at the prices! It was no wonder that they checked your bags for books as you came in, and that most of the exhibits were securely locked behind glass panels. From more recent volumes for under £100, the prices went up to tens of thousands for some of the older and rarer items.
I was especially struck by the absolutely beautiful and intricate drawings in some of the books. The artists must have spent days on each picture, carefully painting things such as rightly coloured flowers and unusual birds and animals.
Most of the books were not the sort of things you would find in a bookshop, even an antiquarian one. In fact, I was surprised at how few of the companies I had ever heard of, even when they were quite local - they obviously don't have premises were one can just go and browse.
I spent a very pleasant hour or two wandering around looking at all the ancient books and manuscripts - and marvelling at the prices! It was no wonder that they checked your bags for books as you came in, and that most of the exhibits were securely locked behind glass panels. From more recent volumes for under £100, the prices went up to tens of thousands for some of the older and rarer items.
I was especially struck by the absolutely beautiful and intricate drawings in some of the books. The artists must have spent days on each picture, carefully painting things such as rightly coloured flowers and unusual birds and animals.
Most of the books were not the sort of things you would find in a bookshop, even an antiquarian one. In fact, I was surprised at how few of the companies I had ever heard of, even when they were quite local - they obviously don't have premises were one can just go and browse.
Saturday, 8 June 2013
Jenny Hill
This evening, singing teacher Jenny Hill's students gave a concert of operatic works at St. Matthew's Church in Kensington.
About a dozen students sang a variety of operative pieces, and in the interval, there were glasses of wine in the garden; I got the opportunity to catch up with the news with Belinda Donovan who again has a little bit of spare time since her stint at Mayor is now over. During the past year she has been constantly busy, with never-ending events to attend.
Once again, one of the stars was Dorinbe Bastide, with his incredible soprano voice and obvious talent; it was he who was instrumental in arranging the concert there.
About a dozen students sang a variety of operative pieces, and in the interval, there were glasses of wine in the garden; I got the opportunity to catch up with the news with Belinda Donovan who again has a little bit of spare time since her stint at Mayor is now over. During the past year she has been constantly busy, with never-ending events to attend.
Once again, one of the stars was Dorinbe Bastide, with his incredible soprano voice and obvious talent; it was he who was instrumental in arranging the concert there.
All Saints, Vange
I intended spending several hours enjoying the seaside at Southend before going on to the open day at All Saints Church in Vange. But when I got to Southend, it was definitely not seaside weather, so after a brief look around the shops, I caught the bus into Basildon, where I had lunch before catching the bus to Vange. Or at least part of the way to Vange.
Vange has two Anglican churches; the old one, surrounded by fields, which has been there for centuries, and the new one, at least a mile away, which was built when the new housing estates were put up. The bus driver had no idea where All Saints was, but knew he passed a church in Vange, which had some bunting up, so I got off there, even though it definitely didn't look old. Asking at the cafe outside the church resulted in my being pointed in the right direction, although they had no idea where it really was, but thought it was probably on the housing estate.. Obviously Vange people don't travel far, or don't look around them if they do. I blame mobile phones!
Anway, after a long walk, I finally got there, The church is now in the care of the Churches Conservation Trust, and was re-opening after a lengthy leriod of being neglected and vandalised; the congregation had dwindled, and it had been closed for years. Now it is open again for the public to visit, looked after by a team of local volunteers who have raised money to carry out repairs.
I arrived just in time to listen to a very interesting lecture being given to a coach party of enthusiats, mostly older people who asked a lot of questions. Listening to them, it seemed they visited many other ancient and now closed churches.
The church is tiny, and the roof just sits there, not secured in any way. Much of the fabric is the original, although there have been some replacement beams. The sanctuary is very small - no room there for a choir or piles of servers.
But it speaks of times past, when all the local farmers and labourers would have attended it every Sunday, a time when religion was as much a part of people's lives as breathing and sleeping and eating.
Today it has just one service a year, but is a valuable historical resource for local schools, who are encouraged to take the children there and involve them in looking after it.
Whilst there, I sampled a cup of their tea and a cake - a welcome addition to the visit after the logn walk.
I also contributed to the book sale, coming home with two very heavy volumes, including a history of English kings and queens by Antonia Fraser.
Vange has two Anglican churches; the old one, surrounded by fields, which has been there for centuries, and the new one, at least a mile away, which was built when the new housing estates were put up. The bus driver had no idea where All Saints was, but knew he passed a church in Vange, which had some bunting up, so I got off there, even though it definitely didn't look old. Asking at the cafe outside the church resulted in my being pointed in the right direction, although they had no idea where it really was, but thought it was probably on the housing estate.. Obviously Vange people don't travel far, or don't look around them if they do. I blame mobile phones!
Anway, after a long walk, I finally got there, The church is now in the care of the Churches Conservation Trust, and was re-opening after a lengthy leriod of being neglected and vandalised; the congregation had dwindled, and it had been closed for years. Now it is open again for the public to visit, looked after by a team of local volunteers who have raised money to carry out repairs.
I arrived just in time to listen to a very interesting lecture being given to a coach party of enthusiats, mostly older people who asked a lot of questions. Listening to them, it seemed they visited many other ancient and now closed churches.
The church is tiny, and the roof just sits there, not secured in any way. Much of the fabric is the original, although there have been some replacement beams. The sanctuary is very small - no room there for a choir or piles of servers.
But it speaks of times past, when all the local farmers and labourers would have attended it every Sunday, a time when religion was as much a part of people's lives as breathing and sleeping and eating.
Today it has just one service a year, but is a valuable historical resource for local schools, who are encouraged to take the children there and involve them in looking after it.
Whilst there, I sampled a cup of their tea and a cake - a welcome addition to the visit after the logn walk.
I also contributed to the book sale, coming home with two very heavy volumes, including a history of English kings and queens by Antonia Fraser.
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