Nothing Like Live Music

Len’s birthday today. I printed a photo of a red rose on to a card as a very small gift. I shall take him off to Livio’s for dinner later this week. Rosie sent him a card. I wish I felt the action was truly sincere rather than an act of manipulation. Probably elements of both.

Basil and I walked round the block in the morning, meeting a chap who reckoned that he had a dog, Frankie, that looked very much like Basil.

Strangely, he had acquired Frankie in circumstances identical to how we acquired Basil, but a year later. Frankie had been found on the streets and taken into the dog warden kennels at Hathern. He had the same colouring and was also dirty with matted hair.

Is there a breeder in the area who turfs out unwanted puppies because they don’t meet the requirements for show dogs?

Then I drove off to Leicester for rehearsal with the ladies of the Leicester Bach Choir and the Charnwood Orchestra at St James the Greater.

Sitting towards the back of the nave, I felt my spine tingling as they played Mars, the Bringer of War, and Uranus, the Magician from Holst's Planet Suite. You can’t beat live music.

Except that, when we were sitting in the Lady Chapel in the evening, waiting to participate as an ethereal chorus in the final movement, Neptune, the Mystic, the music sounded, and felt, uncomfortably loud. The building vibrated. I wished I hadn’t inserted my hearing aids.

St James is a large venue for music, but perhaps an even larger venue might have been more appropriate for the piece.

We attempted to be ethereal when the moment came, and the concert was well received by a capacity audience, which I was pleased to see.

The photo shows solo tuba player, Stephen Calow, rehearsing the Vaughan Williams Tuba Concerto with the orchestra.