'Winter Tales' – with the Le Page Ensemble

Pip drove up from Bristol this afternoon to come with Woodpeckers and I, and two other friends, Bruce and Dom, to the annual Le Page Ensemble Christmas performance. It was superb. 

David Le Page, who performs as a solo violinist, this year wrote ‘Winter Tales’, a mix of folk songs, classical works, wassails and Christmas carols all conjoined with his own compositions to bridge these differing worlds. Readings were woven throughout, sometimes solo, at other times underlying the accompaniment, as is happening in this picture.,and all performed by the amazing Simon McBurney, centre stage in my blip. He is renowned for the theatre company ’Complicité’, which he co-founded.  He brought alive Thomas Hardy, Charles Dickens, the local author Laurie Lee, Virginia Woolf and Dylan Thomas. But most captivating of all was an excerpt from 'Little Gidding', the fourth and final poem of T. S. Eliot's Four Quartets.

Both Simon and the cellist, Christopher Allan, like many of the players live locally, and there was a big following of friends and family of the players in the audience. It must have helped create the close knit feeling throughout St Laurence church which was packed out.

This annual event goes from strength to strength, and it was my third time. I came late to the party. But Pip says he’ll be back next year.

The 'Extra photo' shows the whole Ensemble being introduced as they take a bow. Three violins, a viola, cello, double bass, drums, piano and SuRie, a female solo singer. David Le Page is wearing the flat cap.

A small excerpt from 'Little Gidding', by T. S. Eliot
......
The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew-tree
Are of equal duration. A people without history
Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern
Of timeless moments. So, while the light fails
On a winter’s afternoon, in a secluded chapel
History is now and England.

With the drawing of this Love and the voice of this Calling
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always–
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flames are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one