Tag: jazz

‘Oh, for a beaker full of the warm South’

Roujan 2026

Like Keats with his ‘purple-stained mouth’, I was in search of ‘a draught of vintage’. I found many beakers in the Languedoc earlier this year.

Languedoc produces more wine than any region in France, even Bordeaux.

Encompassing many appellations, it’s a useful one to look out for in the UK; the wines usually offer good value, especially compared with fashionable Provence.

Vines are in evidence everywhere, going about their useful work; the climate is too hot to support significant farming of livestock.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We were invited to stay by our friend Rosemary George MW, a wine writer who divides her time between London and the South of France. At the time of our visit, she was in the process of updating her book ‘The Wines of Faugères’ for its second edition.

https://www.rosemary-george-mw.com/

We tailed along for her research. It was, as they say a tough job…..

Actually, tasting wines from the barrel is quite challenging, as is making intelligent comments at the same time. Fortunately Rosemary’s extensive knowledge and fluent French covered any gaps.

We visited three producers in three days, all family owned estates.

First stop, Mas Gabriel in Pézenas.

L-R: Bob Koprowski, Rosemary, Peter and Anne

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peter Core and his wife Deborah met in London in the 1990s, and in 2002 decided to pursue their dream to make wine in France. They started by going to New Zealand, learning viticulture and winemaking. In Languedoc, they fell in love with a small vineyard, found a vigneron’s house, and created their first vintage in 2006.

Their white wines are dry, rich and textured, with lovely fruit; they’re made from Vermentino (known locally as Rolle), a favourite of mine, blended with Grenache Blanc.

Of the reds we tried, Peter described Clos des Lièvres 2022 as ‘a toddler’. Named for the hares that run in the vineyard, it’s a blend of 75-80% Syrah with Grenache, aged in French 500 litre barrels for a year. At the time of writing the 2021 vintage is on offer from The Wine Society in the UK, reduced from £21 to £16.50 per bottle (see below).

As we entered the tasting room, I couldn’t help noticing a saxophone in the corner.

Among the black-and-white photos of jazz musicians, there were three of Peter himself on sax.

This striking image, supposedly signed by Billie Holiday, is actually Lorraine Glover, wife of the trumpeter Donald Byrd, photographed in New York.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peter showed us his prized possession, a copy of the greatest jazz photo ever.

‘A Great Day in Harlem’ was taken in 1958 by Art Kane. Fifty-seven of the great names of the golden age of jazz answered the call to appear.

Some of them even turned up on time.

Sonny Rollins, the last musician in the photo still standing, died this year.

There’s a documentary about the creation of this ‘family reunion’ of jazz stars:

https://uk.video.search.yahoo.com/search/video?fr=crmas&ei=UTF-8&p=a+great+day+in+harlem#id=1&vid=df240d18d2b2853aae86e420290a773e&action=click

 

 

Next day, Félines Jourdain,

where they make Picpoul (the grape) in Pinet (the location).

arriving in Rosemary’s trusty Fiat 500

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our hostess Claude joined the family business in 1995 and now runs all aspects of the estate. Their labels follow a feline theme, ranging from a black kitten to a majestic panther.

We tasted five whites and a light red. The Picpoul Classique 2025 has concentrated fruit, citrus, crushed grapes; any hint of ripe sweetness is overtaken by salinity – hence its affinity with seafood. Mists off the nearby Thau Lagoon refresh the vines.

Like Mas Gabriel, Félines Jourdain wines have been available from The Wine Society since 1998; their rosé is a bargain at £8.50.

Picpoul de Pinet is a perfect match for oysters from the Thau basin.

We deserved a break for lunch.

Rosemary had booked a table upstairs at Le Grand Bleu.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We enjoyed an (almost) uninterrupted view of the oyster and mussel beds in the lagoon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We ordered oysters, naturally, and prawns.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And two mussel dishes; these moules gratinées were outstanding.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the third day, we rose again, this time to visit Cottebrune, A.O.C. Faugères.

Pierre-Antoine Gaillard explained that Cottebrune is ‘the family name of my mum’.

His father Pierre, a winemaker from Côte Rôtie in the northern Rhône, acquired the domaine in Faugères in 2007, then another in Banyuls on the Mediterranean coast.

‘It’s quiet here, and wild’ said Pierre-Antoine, whereas Banyuls is ‘paradise’.

We tasted half a dozen vintages in bottle, from 2021 to 2024.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘Would you like to try some from the casks?’ asked Pierre-Antoine.

I resisted a reply of ‘Hell Yeah!’ and politely followed our host down to the cellar; this was the first time I can remember trying wine from the barrel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pierre-Antoine skilfully drew out the samples with a glass pipette.

We tasted individual varietals from the 2025 vintage, which would be blended before bottling.

It was time for a quiet lie-down before dinner.

Asparagus was the biggest I’ve ever seen, and the artichoke was the size of a sturdy child’s head.

 

 

 

 

I was able to have souvenirs delivered to my door.

Flying on Ryanair, we were unable to purchase bottles to carry home, but both Mas Gabriel and Félines Jourdain are represented by The Wine Society, and Vinceremos in Leeds has a comprehensive selection from Mas Gabriel.

At the time of writing, Mas Gabriel Clos des Lièvres 2021 is on Sale from The Wine Society:

https://www.thewinesociety.com/product/coteaux-du-languedoc-clos-des-lievres-mas-gabriel-2021-en.aspx

https://www.thewinesociety.com/search-results/?q=felines%20joudain

https://www.vinceremos.co.uk/?post_types=product&s=mas+gabriel

As far as I can ascertain, unfortunately Domaine Cottebrune’s wines are currently not available in the UK.

 

Bidding farewell to Peter Core, vigneron / saxophonist

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks to Rosemary for arranging the visits, our hosts for their generosity, and Bob Koprowski for his photos.

My picks of 2019

My Museum of the Year:

The Vasa Museum in Stockholm, without question. Read my post here:

https://wp.me/p7AW4i-On

 

The Vasa Museum

 

 


Exhibitions:

Stanley Kubrick – I’ll come back to this one with a dedicated post. First seen in Paris in 2011, at La Cinémathèque Française, I didn’t realise it was on an extended world tour. While it finished at The Design Museum in September 2019, there’s a chance you’ll be able to catch it somewhere in the world in coming years.

 

Stanley Kubrick, The Exhibition

 

Other highlights:

Sargent at the National Museum of Sweden.

Sorolla, Master of Light, at The National Gallery, London.

Hockney and Van Gogh, The Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam. https://wp.me/p7AW4i-Ib

 


Film: The Two Popes

‘Two Welsh actors walk into a bar; they both start to pontificate’

I wasn’t expecting much of The Two Popes. It’s a fictionalised account of Pope Benedict’s decision to abdicate, and nominate his unwilling successor, Pope Francis. Both men have troubled pasts.

Anthony Hopkins plays the rigid German who adheres to Catholicism in its strictest form, but sees the need for the church to modernise. Jonathan Pryce plays the football-loving Argentinian who intends to resign as Cardinal, but is then summoned to Rome. Filmed in locations including the Sistine Chapel and Argentina, it’s a large scale film that centres on the relationship of the two men with great humanity.


The Traitor at The London Film Festival is also based on a true story, of a minor mafioso who is persuaded to return from anonymity in Brazil to become a central witness at the Sicilian Mafia Maxi-Trials of the 1980s. It’s a chilling insight into recent events in Italian history.


Blue Note Records: Beyond the Notes is a documentary charting the history of the record label from its foundation in 1939 by two white German immigrants, Alfred Lion and Max Magulis. Unconcerned by commercial considerations, they loved the music, treated the artists well, and nurtured their creativity. From around 1947 the label embraced modern jazz. Changes of ownership followed Lion and Magulis’s retirement in the 1960s. Since 2012 it has been under the stewardship of its current president Don Was, who has overseen its revival, attracting a new generation of musicians.


The Favourite was a major disappointment. I really expected to enjoy it. Visually striking but dull.

The Souvenir was my Turkey of the Year. I’ll never get those two hours of my life back.


Theatre: two Shakespeares, two Wiltons

The Sam Wanamaker Theatre at The Globe is an intimate space, a recreation of a Jacobean theatre, illuminated by candlelight. An eerie production of Macbeth in January opened in darkness; a single candle was lit, the Thane of Cawdor encountered the witches in near-darkness, and was propelled towards his blood-soaked destiny.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream at The Bridge was a mischievous delight. The central joke, that Titania should be bewitched to fall in love with Bottom, was playfully inverted; it was Oberon who fell for the ass.

 

Wilton’s Music Hall, Grace Alley

 

Sinatra: Raw at Wilton’s Music Hall was an enjoyable suspension of disbelief, written and brilliantly performed by Richard Shelton.

‘You all know Somethin’ Stupid, yeah? Well if you’re thinking of singing it on your way home, I’ve got some advice for you’

‘Doobie Doobie, Don’t’

 

https://wp.me/p7AW4i-ST

 

A Christmas Carol, also at Wilton’s, was rewritten as another gender inversion; Ebenezer Scrooge died young, and his sister Fan, played by Sally Dexter, reverts to her maiden name after she is widowed from Jacob Marley.

 

The bar at Wilton’s, Christmas 2019

 

Miss Scrooge resolutely resists the blandishments of the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future, and in desperation the ghosts transport her to 2019, where she witnesses her female descendant running the family business, beset by all the pressures of 21st century technology.

Scrooge returns to her own time, committed to devoting her fortune to the empowerment of women, and to celebrate Christmas in a last act that owes a big debt to panto.

 


Music:

In February I anticipated that Booker T Jones might just be my gig of the year.

https://wp.me/p7AW4i-FQ

 

Van Morrison at The Roundhouse was a strong contender in July. People complain he doesn’t play all the hits, but with a back catalogue like his, who can blame him? They say he only plays for an hour and a quarter, he doesn’t do encores, choosing instead to wander offstage mid-song.

He performs on his own terms. The Roundhouse was a perfect venue, and he and his band were on fine form. As a bonus, Chris Farlowe guested for ‘They Call it Stormy Monday (and Tuesday’s just as bad)’, and he’s still in good voice.

 

Van Morrison at The Roundhouse

 

But my pick of the year goes to Quentin Collins (trumpet, flugelhorn) and Andrew McCormack (piano) at The 606 Club, playing the music of Chick Corea and Woody Shaw.

They regularly perform with The Kyle Eastwood Band, one of my favourite acts, who we always catch at Ronnie Scott’s.

It was my first time at The 606 Club. It’s on Lot’s Road, in the wasteland of blocks of luxury flats beyond The World’s End in Chelsea. There’s an illuminated purple sign above the doorway – ring the bell and they buzz you in.

The club is in a basement, of course, with tables that seated perhaps 35 people on a Wednesday in November. Quentin Collins described it as ‘the most authentic jazz room in London’.

 

Quentin Collins

 

We couldn’t have been any closer to the musicians. Quentin came on stage after the break with a modest glass of red wine, and asked politely if he could put it on our table.

Steve Ruby, the proprietor of the club, joined the band on stage to play flute on ‘Bud Powell’.

 

Having a song named after you, wouldn’t that be cool?

 

https://www.606club.co.uk/

I saw Sinatra last night, at The Purple Room

It’s 1971. The curtain is about to go up at the Purple Room, Palm Springs.

 

And at 2am, Frank Sinatra comes onto the stage for a final appearance, with an orchestra and his best friend, Jack (a bottle of Jack Daniels).

 

‘You only play this room twice in your career: once on the way up….’

 

 

 

The curtain at The Purple Room

 

 

He’s reached the end of the road; he loathes Rock ‘n’ Roll, he hates the press, he even hates some his own songs:

‘You all know Somethin’ Stupid, yeah? Well if you’re thinking of singing it on your way home, I’ve got some advice for you’

‘Doobie Doobie, Don’t’

 

There have been triumphs along the way: a leading actor Oscar for ‘From Here to Eternity’; his concept records for Capitol; then little moments of revenge, like leaving Capitol to found his own record label….

‘Reprise records; that’s pronounced Reprise, like Reprisal’. 

 

And there have been good times too: nights with the Rat Pack, nights with his many lovers, and his obsessive love for Ava Gardner.

After a short break, he reopens the set with Come Fly with Me.

He gives us his views on Civil Rights, how he hated that Ella Fitzgerald and Sammy Davis Jr could play to white audiences but couldn’t walk through the same entrance as white artists.

He’s a Democrat who was going to support JFK for election to the presidency, but ‘Bobby pulled the rug on that, because of my supposed influence with The Mob’.

 

Then he takes requests:

‘My Way!’…. ‘I don’t think I remember the words to that one’.

‘New York, New York!’…. ‘Good idea; I don’t think I recorded it yet. Maybe if I ever come back from retirement’.

He pays tribute to his orchestra (of one), and the pianist stands to take a bow.

‘I sang a lot of saloon songs over the years, and before I bow out, I would like to perform a saloon song’.

Francis Albert Sinatra gives us One for my baby and leaves the stage, for the last time, to a standing ovation.

Of course there’s an encore: ‘New York, New York’ followed by ‘My Way.’

 

 

Richard Shelton

Returning to the stage, actor and singer Richard Shelton addresses the audience; ‘I wasn’t born in Hoboken, New Jersey, I was born in Wolverhampton, and this is how I usually speak. I first played Frank in Rat Pack Confidential in 2015, then I was asked to write this show to take to the Edinburgh Festival’.

 

Richard Shelton as Sinatra: Raw

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shelton inhabits Sinatra’s persona, capturing the voice, gestures, and most importantly the complex spirit of the man.

Sinatra: Raw has been touring the UK and finishes its run on November 3rd, at Wilton’s Music Hall. There are plans to develop the production.

 

Wilton’s Music Hall

Wilton’s is the oldest surviving significant Music Hall in the world. Built in 1859, it closed in 1881; it became a rag warehouse for a while in the 20th century, then fell into disuse and deteriorated towards dereliction.

It was due to be demolished, but a campaign and subsequent funding have allowed it to be repaired and conserved to its present condition. Some of the decorative features are faded but remain, the most distinctive being the barley-sugar pillars that support the gallery.

 

Barley sugar pillar, Wilton’s

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The building has been a location for many film and TV productions, Richard Attenborough’s ‘Chaplin’, and ‘Sherlock Holmes, Game of Shadows’ among them, as well as music videos, including Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s ‘Relax’. (The band’s name derived from a poster of Sinatra, and a headline in ‘The New Yorker’)

This atmospheric space re-opened to audiences for a performance in 1997, Fiona Shaw in ‘The Wasteland’, and has been a thriving cultural centre since 2011.

 

The bar at Wilton’s Music Hall

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://wiltons.org.uk/

Wilton’s Music Hall, Graces Alley, London E1 8JB

 

“Vegetarians, look away now”

Our taxi driver was puzzled.

 

A neon light outside gave the only clue to finding the restaurant.

You go down spiral concrete stairs with tiled walls, then two or three flights up.

It felt like going into a 1970s multistorey car park, or the entrance to a speakeasy.

 

‘Going down’

 

 

At the top of the stairs, we could hear noise from the bar to the left; we turned right towards the restaurant reception desk, next to glass cabinets where sides of beef were hanging, and an impressive collection of wine.

We’d found the right place.

 

“Hej! Välkommen!

Welcome to A. G.”

 

With this greeting from the Maitre D’, we knew we were in safe hands.

The chef was in evidence, taking calls.

 

 

Hands on chef

 

 

Once we were seated, good sourdough toast, striped from the griddle, quickly arrived at the table, along with irresistible whipped lard and rosemary (like rillettes, but the proportions of fat and meat are reversed)

Most of the tables were occupied by groups of men sharing massive steaks.

There were also a few couples on date nights, sharing massive steaks.

They were young, prosperous diners on the whole, mostly dressed in Swedish black, and with kronor to spare.

 

 

Carnivores bonding

 

The menu is varied, but as you’ve probably gathered by now, the steak is the thing. The different cuts are described in detail, with the breed, country of origin, and length of ageing.

Entrecote on the bone for two is a rib eye of Swedish beef, dry-aged in the restaurant’s meat room; they recommend it be served medium rare. It’s a massive steak.

We ordered one each (just kidding).

“Medium rare” was right for this cut; dry ageing takes moisture out of the meat, so it’s deep red, but not bloody. Cost was about £70 for two, for probably the finest piece of meat we’ll eat this year; they serve it with baked potatoes, Béarnaise and salad.

 

Dry-aged Entrecote of Swedish beef

 

 

Service is relaxed and confident: ‘You’ve eaten the best meat in Sweden’

 

The style is quirky; paper table covers, mismatched silver cutlery and coffee pots. The wine list is serious, as indicated by a full magnum decanter waiting at a serving point, beside two empty bottles of Tignanello Super Tuscan.

Playlist: we couldn’t hear it over the sound of Alpha Males bonding, bouncing off the white tiled walls.

Dinner came to £195 for two, including a bottle of Provence rosé and a couple of glasses of excellent Tuscan red (Mazzei).

 

As we were leaving, we heard the noise at the top of the stairs again, and were tempted to seek more fun. It was the ‘Tapas Bar’, Spanish, Italian…. ‘very New York’.

 

 

The tapas bar at A.G.

 

We decided to stay for one more drink.

We were the oldest people there.

 

http://www.restaurangag.se/ag/

 

 

Footnote:

Smart restaurants in Stockholm tend to follow the American custom of colour-coded uniforms for staff.

The floor managers at A.G. were wearing cotton overshirts the colour of the steaks. Let’s call it Oxblood.

The fabric and relaxed cut looked familiar, and on closer inspection, I realised I had bought the identical shirt on the previous visit to Stockholm, at a shop called A Day’s March.

 

 

 

‘Helps you through the triumphs and troubles of everyday life with style and dignity’

 

 

I was glad I hadn’t worn it tonight.

A Swedish menswear label founded in 2014, A Day’s March is the distance an army can march in a day (obviously) and ‘helps you through the triumphs and troubles of everyday life with style and dignity’. I’m all for that.

A Day’s March have stores in Stockholm, Copenhagen and London.

 

https://adaysmarch.co.uk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Best gig of the year, and it was only February!

I’m often asked when to open a bottle of wine that’s been gathering dust in somebody’s rack – “will it still be any good?”

My advice?

 

“Open it without expectations, and hope to be pleasantly surprised”.

Sometimes I take a similar approach when the programme from Ronnie Scott’s appears in my inbox. Pick a name I recognise, and take a punt.

The chances are that, like me, you’ve heard of the band, Booker T. and the MGs, and their best-known hit “Green Onions”, released in 1962.

That’s how I came to be sitting in Ronnie’s on a Thursday night in February, waiting for Booker T. Jones to take the stage.

 

 

 

Booker T Jones, from the Ronnie Scott’s programme

 

 

His band came out first, three young dudes, followed by the man himself, elegantly dressed in a box-back suit and a neat Stetson hat: he carries himself with the authority of an ambassador, the bearing of a legend, and he beams with a smile like Louis Armstrong.

After taking his seat at the Hammond B3, we waited for him as he fastidiously wiped his keys (I was going to say “polished his organ”, but I thought you might misunderstand me, Matron) before launching into the set.

The opening number made me think of spaghetti westerns, as the warm sound of the organ rose to a melodramatic crescendo, with galloping drumbeats and twanging guitars.

 

“That was the theme from “Hang ’em High”, a Clint Eastwood movie from 1968″.

 

Booker Taliaferro Jones was born in Memphis, Tennessee on 4th November, 1944. Raised by musical parents on gospel and blues, by 16 he was playing saxophone professionally for Satellite Records (later Stax), and at the age of 17 he co-wrote a song for bluesman Albert King, later covered in the UK by Cream:

 

“Born under a Bad Sign”

“Born under a bad sign, been down since I began to crawl
If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have no luck at all

If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have no kind of luck
If it wasn’t for real bad luck, I wouldn’t have no luck at all”

 

Between songs, Booker told us that he’s writing his life story (“my advice is, don’t write your life story”) and made reference to his early career. He comes across as a modest man, but one who is not averse to dropping some names.

After seeing the Isley Brothers “and their sideman” Jimi Hendrix, in 1967 he went on to attend the Monterey Pop Festival, where “no-one was back stage; they were all out front, listening to Jimi”.

Booker stood up, strapped on a guitar, and sang his interpretation of Hendrix’s “Hey Joe”. It was matter-of-fact”, almost conversational:

 

“Hey Joe”

“Yeah, I shot her. I shot my old lady down. Yes, I did, I shot her.

You know I caught her messin’ ’round. Messin’ ’round town.

They ain’t gonna put a noose around my neck – I’m headin’ down Mexico way”
He played his “expensive guitar” to sound like a Hammond organ, leaving the fireworks to his guitarist (and son), Ted Jones.

“Purple Rain”

The next choice of song was even more unexpected. Recalling his Grammy award for lifetime achievement, he told us it was presented to him by “a young guy named Prince”.

It was a reflective, contemplative treatment, stripping it down to a song of lost love and friendship. As it reached its end, tears were flowing in the audience.

 

 

“Soul Limbo”

 

Returning to the organ, Jones lightened the mood. “I think of this next number I wrote as ‘The Cricket Song’.
“Maybe they stopped using it, and didn’t have the heart to tell me….”

 

 

 

 

Most of Booker’s original material on the night came from 1962 – 1968. “People started to say all the music we made in Memphis sounded the same, so we recorded “Time is Tight” in New York”.

Like Green Onions, the closing number has a driving bass line, tight drums, choppy guitar and jaunty organ, but with “Time is Tight” the evening took a funky turn.

 

Booker T Jones? We had no clear expectations, but it was the best gig of 2019, so far, and is likely to be one of the best by the end of the year.

 

The Band:

Ted Jones, guitar, vocals. Black jacket and T-shirt with a gold chain, and modest virtuosity.

Darian Grey, drums, vocals. Ripped shirtsleeves under his waistcoat, to show his technique.

Lawrence Shaw, bass guitar. Richly coloured shirt, patterned tan, gold and black, with a quiet authority.

 

https://www.ronniescotts.co.uk/

 

 

 

My round-up of 2018

2018 has been a year that required urgent distractions from the shambles that passed for political debate in Westminster.

Fortunately it’s been a good year for adventures: exhibitions, travel, theatre, food & drink. Here are just a few of my personal highlights:

 

Theatre – behind the scenes at The Bridge

In February I wrote about the extraordinary immersive experience of Julius Caesar at The Bridge:  https://wp.me/p7AW4i-af

Later in the year I attended a wine tasting in the foyer, with Trevor Gulliver of St John Restaurant who do the catering at The Bridge; to go with the wine they produced some simple snacks, including crispy pigskins….

 

St John chefs preparing bar snacks

 

To browse St John Wine, click here: https://stjohnrestaurant.com/collections/wines

Also my page “And to drink?” https://wp.me/P7AW4i-aV

 

After the tasting, a member of the theatre management team sat down to ask for feedback. She explained her job as running “everything on the other side of those doors – would you like to see?” Needing no second bidding, I followed her through the double doors to the stage manager’s control desk.

 

Between productions at The Bridge

 

They were taking out the set of Alan Bennett’s “Allelujah”, ready for the next production. It revealed the size of the space behind the scenes. I noticed that the seats were angled towards the stage, and asked if they swivel.

“Yes! Every seat turns”.

 

Two more stand-out productions in 2018

Girls & Boys with Carey Mulligan at the Royal Court. Outstanding performance of a coruscating play.

The Lehman Trilogy at the National Theatre, directed by Sam Mendes, with stunning performances from Simon Russell Beale, Ben Miles and Adam Godley as the Lehman brothers, and the many  other characters they encounter along the way.

 

 

London Film Festival

It’s always worth picking a film or two out of the programme, something that may not get a wider release. These two will probably turn up on Film 4.

Look out for “Nancy”, with an astonishing performance by Andrea Riseborough, and “Out of Blue”, a noir interpretation of Martin Amis’s novel “Night Train”, with James Caan in a role that reminded me of John Huston’s chilling performance in Chinatown.

 

 

American Utopia 

David Byrne’s American Utopia was a reinvention of the rock concert, so good I saw it twice. The stage set was a box formed of silver chain curtains. As the lights went up, Byrne was sitting at a table, addressing a human brain.

When the music started, the audience were on their feet, and stayed there. A dozen musicians and two dancers joined Byrne on stage, their instruments strapped to them, uninhibited by cables so they were free to move, sometimes individually, sometimes marching or swaying in unison, inhabiting the whole space.

The choreography was outstanding, at its centre the unlikely sight of a grey suited, white haired man in his sixties, dancing barefoot, sometimes playing guitar, sometimes flapping his arms and tripping across the stage.

The set list was a mix of Talking Heads’ greatest hits with newer material; it’s a true ensemble piece which ended with Angie Swan’s blistering guitar solo.

Eventim Apollo, Hammersmith in June. The 02 in October.

 

 

Roy Hargrove, the “trumpeter who gave jazz a jolt of youth”.

That’s how The New York Times described him; I first heard trumpeter Roy Hargrove on a Blue Note compilation in the 1990s. Impressed by the purity of his sound, I started to explore his music.

I saw him at work in a tiny upstairs rehearsal room in Tribeca, New York in 2010, and then later in concert at the Union Chapel in London.

 

Roy Hargrove at The Jazz Cafe, 2018

 

He played two dates in October at The Jazz Café in Camden, where he came on stage and started the set by saying “Let’s make some noise!” It was a night of joyous jazz.

The Jazz Café said “witness a true maverick up close and personal in our intimate surroundings for what will be his last shows for the foreseeable future”. I’m so glad I did.

On 2nd November news broke of Hargrove’s premature death, aged 49.

 

 

Amsterdam for Orange Day & High Society

I went to see an exhibition of full length portraits at The Rijksmuseum. The entrance involves negotiating a cycle lane that bisects the museum:

 

 

Once inside, I encountered Luisa Casati, a dangerous-looking woman who threw notorious parties in the Palazzo Venier, now the Guggenheim Museum in Venice.

 

The notorious Luisa Casati

 

Luisa Casati in real life

 

 

It was impossible to miss the fact that my visit happened to coincide with Orange Day, a national holiday in the Netherlands.

 

 

The day when a nation wears orange

 

Turner’s House re-opened

The artist J. M. W. Turner chose Twickenham to build a house of his own design in 1813. By this time he was achieving success in his career, and it was to be a refuge where he could escape the pressures of the art world in London, to fish in the Thames and entertain his friends. He lived there with William, his “Old Dad,” a retired barber and wig-maker, who looked after the house, and spent most of his time in the warmth of the kitchen.

 

Turner’s House, October 2018

 

It was partly William’s declining health that led Turner to sell the house in 1826, and after his time the house was altered significantly, and the surrounding green countryside became a suburb of substantial Edwardian villas.

In the Second World War the house served as a secret factory, manufacturing pilots’ gloves and goggles. After the war it was a private house, and the last owner bequeathed it to the Turner Trust, who opened it to the public for a brief period before restoration commenced in 2016; my overriding memory of a visit then is the smell of damp.

 

 

Turner’s House in November 2015, before restoration

 

The restoration involved returning the house to as close to its original condition as possible, including the demolition of the later first storey additions to the wings. This entailed removal of the white stucco, which exposed the original brickwork. The unexpected discovery of time-consuming “penny line pointing” led to the decision being taken to leave the house unrendered.

Inside the restoration has created an intimate impression of the house as it would have looked in Turner’s lifetime.

 

 

Twickenham High Street is a mostly banal collection of charity shops, coffee shops and estate agents. Look a little deeper and you’ll find evidence of its rich history, and gems of 18th century architecture. Most notable is Marble Hill, a Palladian villa on the riverside, built for George II’s mistress Henrietta Howard. It was used as a location for the recent ITV adaptation of Vanity Fair.

 

 

Picking up an English Longbow

While my enthusiasm for archery started on the field of Agincourt, I wasn’t expecting to pick up an English longbow any time soon. This year in Norfolk I tried a more traditional style bow, and it just felt right. To cut a long story short, I had an opportunity to acquire an English longbow in the summer, made by a bowyer who retired a few years ago, and literally “they don’t make them like that anymore”.

A few months on, I’m achieving some success (at sixty yards, I’m confident I could down a French knight or two….)

 

 

Pie of the year

And finally, the Pie of the Year award, 2018, goes to….

Rochelle Canteen at The ICA

 

 

Guinea fowl, bacon and wild garlic; buttered potatoes, Hispi cabbage, and a glass of Bourgogne Passetoutgrains on the side.

 

Rochelle Canteen at The ICA

The Mall, St. James’s, London SW1Y 5AH

http://www.arnoldandhenderson.com/rochelle-ica/

 

 

Happy New Year!