Gertsamtkunstwerk

Bollocks to this...

....I'm off to see Africa, Asia, whatever.....

News values

I am sitting in the back room, perched in front of the PC. From the front room comes the sound of the TV inexplicably tuned to the inexpiable Sky News. They are giving extensive coverage to the Sumatran earthquake whose tsunami has caused loss of thousands of lives in Asia.

It seems that this is the biggest earthquake in my lifetime, so this is News, with a capital N. It is traditionally a slow newsday, so big news is even bigger. Although the repeating headlines are mentioning thousands dead, presumably amongst the poor indigent peasant population, the underlying and overwhelming focus is on the tourist areas and the effect upon tourism. Not the effect on the fragile economies of that region, dependent upon tourism from the rich and decadent West, but on the impact of tourists' right to go every playground the world can offer.

Of course this does not surprise me. News is always more newsworthy if it could affect me, or you, or someone we know, or someone that they know. Always has been, always will be. Let's forget the millions of Sky viewers with connections in Asia.

I don't know why it makes me feel so uncomfortable. I know how the media works. I know that the most important news stories are those that come with pictures, or with eye-witnesses that speak English. That's why stories from the US of relatively minor catastrophes get far more coverage than disasters in the third world.

And you know that by tomorrow the TV will be full of tourists making their returns to Gatwick and Ringway. Rather than the thoughtful and contemplative you know the soundbite will come from the know-nothing gobby fullovhimself who flings himself at the waiting news crew.

To me, it's oh so predictable. But fairly few people have studied the media even in the moderate depth that I have done. Today's news value is next week's global outlook.

By next month, it will be forgotten.

Your starter for ten. Where is Bam? And your follow up - why have I asked?

Heard on the radio, found on the internet

Popped Clog: Bernard Levin :: The London News Review

If you have absolutely no interest in opera, music, theatre, whatever, still read this - scrolling down to "And finally, on a memorable performance of Spontini's La Vestale"

Ring of Nibelung

A new Ring has just begun at Covent Garden. A solemn and momentous occasion, covered by all the quality newspapers. Over the next two seasons it will be slowly unveiled, culminating in a proper cycle in 2006/07.

Portentiously, the Guardian even included it in the Comment Section, although rather snottily - strange how journalists, clearly living somewhere other than the real world focus on the £150 seats whereas over half are £50 or - significantly - less. Presumably it's infra dig for the stuck-up journos to mix with the ordinary working people, pensioners and students - music lovers - in the balcony, amphitheatre or slips.

In fairness they had previously given space to the director Why do we have such a need for the operas of a deeply prejudiced man? Director Keith Warner on Wagner

Their critic goes on to damn it with faint praise

The Telegraph says A jolly nice show that won't melt any hearts

The Times continues the theme of praising Terfel and Pappano and giving an indifferent shrug to the production.

The Independent manages two reviews

There is also quite some discussion on Usenet

I shall be going on the last night of this run; whether I get to Die Walküre lies in the laps of the gods, as I keep everything crossed.

Last night's Imagine on BBC1, for which the BBC appear not to have retained any web presence, was rather wonderful. Clearly timed to coincide with the launch of the Ring, it profiled a year in the life of the rather wonderful Tony Pappano, Musical Director and seriously good conductor of the Royal Opera. Showing excerpts from many of this year's productions - many of them witnessed by me - it culminated with opening night of Das Rheingold (they even showed a very very brief clip of Plácido, looking gorgeous, of course, - he was in London last weekend...). They also mentioned that both Das Rheingold and Die Walküre would be shown on BBC2 over Easter.

Hearing part of that wonderful opening made my spine tingle with sheer blissful excitement. But there's Christmas and a holiday on the Red Sea Riviera to get through yet. Sigh

Songs of Praise

Once a year, I try to watch this. In reality, it turns out to be once every two or three.

The Christmas one. Carols and readings from somewhere proper, in this case Ely Cathedral. Not a happy clapper in sight, except the born again triple jumper, whose trite naive truisms were surplus to requirements, but better exponentially than the gardening twatchmarsh.

During On Christmas night all Christians sing, I remarked that I cared little for that, and my favourites were It Came Upon the Midnight Clear and Hark the Herald Angels Sing. Immediately following, Jonathan Edwards announced a poll for the Nation's Favourite - to be announced on Christmas Day...next year.

Next up was It Came Upon the Midnight Clear, which I realised I hadn't heard in years. It combines every element necessary for a good Christmas carol - great tune, great words, intelligent and effective separating of male and female voices, often, although not here superb brass, and a stonking great organ part.

I find the third verse to be deeply profound.

Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love song which they bring:
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing.

Legends of cricket?

Grace, Hobbs, Bradman, Sobers.

Does anyone else belong up there?

And as a secondary question, I assume everyone knows who those people are?

Big boobs

Lea's ops for 30M boobs

Totally grotesque - although my eyes are drawn to the scary face, much preferring the 'before' picture.

But what makes me laugh is the sanctimonious Sun preaching

And surgeons should not blindly give free rein to women who, for some unknown reason, feel so utterly insecure about themselves that distorting their body becomes their chosen way to express this anxiety.

Presumably, this is a different Sun from the one that routinely objectifies women, especially breasts, and keeps on with that subliminal message that surface appearance is all that matters.

Bah! Humbug!

Apropos of nothing at all

The thought occurred to me the other night. There will be a Coronation one day. The chances are, Liz will pop her clogs in the next quarter of a century or so. It will be fairly momentous when it happens. But in the well-established pattern, the old will make way for the new, and a King - be it Charles or William, or someone else - will take over.

I'm not a Royalist. In fact, I am an the antithesis of a Royalist.

But, the question is - should I watch it on TV, or take to the streets of London and take photos.

Superstar injured

Krankie hurt in beanstalk tumble

How can they say that Jimmy Krankie is 57 years old. Everyone knows he's just a schoolboy.

They're lying. BBC News is lying.

General Knowledge Quiz

Ask me a General Knowledge question - and I mean General Knowledge, not A-Level Quantum Mechanics.

I promise there will be no use of search engines or reference books or materials. (Or if I do, for the sake of completeness I'll be honest and state clearly I didn't know and I resorted to Google)

It's not to prove to you that I know stuff, but to test myself and find out what other people regard as General Knowledge.

(Don't forget - in an attempt to block stomach-churningly violent and illegal spam I now approve comments before they are published, but for the time being the longest delay will be overnight).

Bethlehem? What's that?

Nearly a third of Britons don't know Jesus was born in Bethlehem, according to a poll.

I apply my normal scepticism to polls and wonder how that could have come about. The newspaper clip includes a quote from a Free Presbyterian Church spokesman "It's despicable." I assume that he is appalled at the ungodliness of a nation that has largely rejected the hypocrisies and hatreds of organised religion.

But surely there is a level of General Knowledge that most people possess. I am thinking of a range of people I know who are ill-educated, and not necessarily focused on the knowledge society. But I am absolutely positive that they know stuff like that.

A poll by Sky Box Office - perhaps it's made up by The Sun to act as advertising for another arm of Murdochia.

What do they mean by nearly a third? That could mean less than ten per cent. I accept that there are people who lack the capacity to understand or participate in such a poll, but they wouldn't have been able to give a 'wrong' answer.

Sometimes I am amazed by the lack of General Knowledge displayed by highly intelligent, educated qualified and articulate people - some immediate colleagues spring to mind. But I'm sure even they know stuff like that.

Perhaps I haven't recovered from nine years working in an environment where it was a badge of honour to know stuff.

But I guess if people who are 'paid and trained to be nosy' don't know stuff, it's hardly surprising that others don't.

But I don't understand it. My immediate and extended family 'know stuff'. Most of my friends - as opposed to colleagues - 'know stuff'. One of the friends from University was regarded as an oddity partly because she didn't 'know stuff'.

But I would have thought that there was a body of knowledge that most people (excepting those with the incapacity to learn) know eg where Jesus was born; what benefits one may be entitled to; when the Second World War took place; who the Prime Minister is; basic function of the kidneys; that the speed limit is generally 30 in built-up areas. Stuff like that. Not even the obscurantist stuff that crops up in pub quizzes. I'm not even talking the tricky stuff like which pop group originally sang 'Yesterday' or who is the England football captain, or what the pancreas does or who the Chancellor of the Exchequer is.

I'm not saying that I know everything, and I have some very distinct weaknesses, but I cannot understand how people can be so cut-off from the world in which they live that they don't know stuff that every school child ought to know.

Maybe that's my blind spot. Because one of my greatest skills - perhaps my greatest skill - is my ability to absorb, retain, and regurgitate trivia, I can only barely recognise that most people are not as good at it as me. So I singularly fail to understand people who are bad at it.

In the shop

I walked into the newsagent opposite work. There was a bloke in there, early thirties, smoking flamboyantly and singing and dancing around to the song on the radio. Well, I say 'song' - it was that bloody awful 'Bring it back, swing it back' from about four years ago. Hate it. He was yabbering away to the young woman who was looking a bit bewildered and overwhelmed.

Even when he had finished his purchase, he continued yabbering away, commenting on the box of pliers she had on the counter.

Firmly but politely, I said "Twenty Richmond Superkings, please." She smiled and we completed the transcation. Then she said, blinking, "I feel that I'm smoking as much as him."

"I think he's high on cocaine!" I declared with all the confidence that comes from talking out me arse. She looked slightly shocked. "He's probably from Scotland Yard!" I continued, on a roll.

She collapsed laughing.

Inspiration, don't you think. I transformed her experience from negative to positive. Today's good deed done, I can be bloody horrible for the rest of the day.

Specious wisdom

I have been told three things today.

1. I went to sit at the back of the bus, downstairs. A woman turned to me and said I shouldn't sit there, it was far too warm, and when I went out in the cold the cold would get to my bones. I patiently explained that i was heading straight to the Tube and then to the warm office. She told me that she always warns people about that, and she's seventy-t'ree with t'irty two grandchildren and t'ree great-grandchildren
2. My work 'pooter wouldn't work so I rang up IT support, who suggested that it might be the connector that goes into the monitor*. I joked with the IT guy that I should spray it with WD-40. He said you should never use WD-40 on electrical equipment. All my colleagues agreed that you can - it's one of those things that makes a man a man, like sharpening pencils with a knife
3. Jimmy has got a cold and he says it's a direct result of having a shower not long before going out on Friday night, despite me saying that colds are caused by viruses

* oh the embarrassment - if it had happened at home, I would have checked that immediately

Oxford Street

Time to do my FOTCR* Shopping. And where better in fair London town than Oxford Street?

Picture the scene, it's less than two weeks 'til the FOTCR. It's 5pm. It's Oxford Street.

Debenhams. No one tries to spray me with perfume. The woman on the cash desk is friendly, but not over friendly.

Clinton Cards. I get everything I need without having to shove anybody out of the way. When I buy a gel pen at the cash desk, the man suggests that I also buy a pen that lights up, and even allows me to try one as I sign my Switch receipt. He doesn't press the case.

HMV. I get what I'm looking for. The woman at the cash desk, who is pleasant, points out that the DVD is a BOGOF, and directs me to where I can get another, effectively for free. I return to the cash desk and the man who serves me is pleasant.

Books Etc. I get what I'm looking for, and the woman at the cash desk does not hand me my purchase in a carrier bag until I have placed my purse in my handbag and securely fastened my handbag.

Marks and Spencer. I moan slightly that their Per Una range doesn't quite cover my size but I try a top on anyway and actually it fits, but it's not me. I try two other tops, in different sizes, as it happens. One fits better in one size, the other in another. They're not very expensive. The woman at the cash desk is very pleasant.

Upstairs to the men's section where they are showing the highlights of Italy v Brazil from the 1982 World Cup and even provide sinky sofas to enable the watching of it. A young man helpfully shows me where to find what I'm looking for. They have the size I want in a colour better than I was looking for. I return to the same man on the cash desk and he is very pleasant, wishing me an enjoyable evening.

Not once did any of the Chip-and-Pin machines let me down.

In my perambulations up and down Oxford Street and in the shops no one jostled me, no one got in my way. Nowhere was the music so loud or so dreadful that it interrupted my thinking.

I crossed Oxford Street and a bus came immediately. It did not get stuck in any traffic jams and I never once had to share my seat with anyone. No one talking loudly, no one had their Walkman blaring. No one was eating Kentucky Fried Rat.

What is it with these people? I can't even get a decent rant out of a December trip to Oxford Street.

*Festival of the Cash Register (nicked from Ebenzer Lyle)

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

I have booked my ticket to see Plácido in Dublin in March.

86 days and counting

And I've booked my flight, too. £6 return. Plus taxes.

Sleeping with the Past

This is the only Elton John album I own. I have it on vinyl. I remember clearly when I got it - it was in 1990, and I was so anxious to play it that i didn't bother watching George Best on a mid-evening chat show. Wogan? Parky? The famous one when he was very very drunk and abusive.

There are, of course, at least two Elton Johns. there is the one who has sung - and performed - a vast number of very good songs over a long period of time. And then there's the Celebrity Legend Sir ELton John who is now a Pastiche Parody of something-or-other, and time to say Basta. (Although I did find his comments on Madonna's lip-synching rather amusing...)

This really isn't his best album, nor are the songs among his best. It is nevertheless a decent album that withstands repeat playing, although not when Himself who hates Elton John is home. Some of the tracks are stronger than others, none is so dire it has to be skipped, but, in the final analysis, only one - Sacrifice - is worthy of the best of ELton John. What I like most about Sacrifice is the melodic tune. The words are nothing special, and I have never felt Elton's voice to be his strong point.

Performance anxiety

I can't take the pressure. I am supposed to be writing a drunken blog post but I'm not drunk. Clealry if there had been wifis on the tube, and Id has a computer and I knew how to hool up to a Wifi, yeah, I could have done it. People were saying interesting things on the tube, to my left "You're pregnant you'd better sit down and if you're going to throw up do it there." To myleft "That's aural not ocular."

I'm not drunk. I 'm not even slightly pissed. i was in the ppub. I came out of the loos and heade dfor the door, bu the barmaid was trying to persuade that the exit was upstairs. Yeah, right. she took at least five attempts to persuade me I needed to go upstairs to get out of the pub. turns out she was right....

I think I did my drunk posting on rmo. Apropos the new announcer for the MEt boradcasts, some arseholewanker wrote

Milton Cross obviously established a style of commentary that Peter Allen and others have copied. Miss Margaret maybe wants to establish a style of her own. Maybe some focus groups suggested that this is a way to attract 20-somethings to the broadcasts. But you will excuse me and perhaps some others who were listening and remember Cross if we do not appreciate it. And as for Allen, I remember him taking over under difficult circumstances
>snip<
> As for the suggestion that my post was an attack on women, maybe it was and maybe it wasn't. Anyone who likes opera has to like some of the things women do. Does anyone here not have immense respect for Joan Sutherland? (And maybe a bit of disdain for her husband?) I mentioned Nimet, who ought not to relegated to the wee hours. But perhaps men have an advantage for some things like being stevedores, and radio announcers?

AndI wroote

Have you any idea what an ignorant, stupid, petty, small minded little pip sqieak of a shite you read like?

You say - "Anyone who likes opera has to like some of the things women do."

You patronising git, the sooner the likes of you are gone and forgotten, the better. Mr Allen is due a happy and healthy and long retirement. Mr Cross is (probably) dead.

If I said "Anyone who likes opera has to like some of the things men do," it would read as the crazed utterings of a man-hating harridan.
Surprisingly, or not, your rantings read like the crazed uttering sof a woman-hating bully.

Did you enjoy the broadcast? Do you have anything to say about the opera?

About the orchestra, the singers? I recorded it while I was out. Should I listen?

Or does it just piss you off that a woman is doing a job you could never, in your wildest dreams, do?

Sorry mate, but you are so antiquated and irrelevant. So you missed the announcement of Peter Allen's retirment, and replacement. and you can't even do a google to find the discussion. Hint, it was after the last broadcast of last season and before the first broadcast of this. Key words for search "Peter Allen"

I so hate tosspot old men like that who want to live in their fucking aspic preserved arsehole worlds of th 1950s imposing their fucking misery on everybody else, and really are scared utterly fucking shitless that in the 21st centurey, some fifty years after they had any life in them that slowly a small number of women are beginning to do jobs that men have been doing often mediocrely for aeons. And too stupid to even fucking analyse that when a radio presenter has been doing a job for 27 years their successor is going to take some getting used to. Maybe she's not very good, I don't know, but one fucking performance and he's written off all women. What an arsehole. By his logic I should write off all superannuated old gits as being bleeding ignorant arseholes. but i don't make sweeping generalistaions on the grounds of gender.

It fuckinbg gets my bleeding goat.

AndI got hiccups

The Great Caruso

  Okay, the album is actually entitled "The Magnificent Caruso" but I decided to use the clichéd version...!

I acquired this album for just a couple of pounds in an HMV sale. It's  a strange thing. Bear in mind that Caruso died in 1921. All his recordings were made using the 'acoustic method' - singing in front of a large horn, connected to a recording diaphragm and cutting stylus, which cut a groove in a rotating wax disc. This had a restricted frequency response at the top and bottom of the spectrum, especially as far as the orchestra is concerned. Electrical recording developed in 1925, alas too late for Caruso. However, this set of recordings is made with the original Caruso sound track re-recorded in the 1930s over a modern orchestra. So not quite the original Caruso.

Do not under-estimate the impact Caruso had on recording history. as the sleeve note says "It is a moot point whether Caruso made the gramophone or the gramophone made Caruso" In his lifetime he earned nearly $2 million from sales of gramophones. This compilation includes operatic arias and crossover songs.

Fascinating information at The Enrico Caruso Page and Tenorland

Caruso was born in a seven story apartment complex in a working-class neighborhood in Naples, Italy. He was the 18th child out of 21, and the first to live past infancy, due to a cholera epidemic. His own survival through the epidemic was attributed to the breast milk of a “strong woman of high birth” who nursed him in place of his weak and sickly mother.

The historical context was back in 1904, very few people could afford to go to operas. they didn't have TV or radio back then, they had to make their own entertainment. Then the gramophone was invented and, suddenly, it was possible to have the world's greatest singer in one's living room. Something we all take for granted, but imagine what a revolution that was. Of course we have our hi-fis and SACD players and what-nots. They just had their gramophones.

And the voice? Well, I wouldn't recommend getting a Caruso CD if you don't have any other tenor aria CDs. You also have to get used to listening through the noise and hiss. Do I like the voice? Yes, very much. But I don't think that I could listen to this in preference to modern CDs. It's more for the phenomenon of listening to that voice, rather than for the sheer pleasure of sitting back and listening to a sumptuous tenor voice.

He smoked 60 cigarettes a day, and hung anchovy fillets round his neck as a talisman to protect his voice. He died of bronchial pneumonia aged 48.

And, by all accounts, he couldn't act.

Billy Joel

Controversial in blogland. But I do like him. Not so much that I would pay to see him. But I wouldn't turn down a free ticket. Good. Not great. But good.

Greatest Hits Volume I and Volume II, taped off my sister's album a good few years ago.

I like the fact that he tells interesting stories with catchy tunes. The best songs - Piano Man; Movin' Out; My Life, Goodnight Saigon, and Uptown Girl. It's one of those albums that's worth giving a close listen to, but also decent to have as background.

Listening to this, I can't help reflecting how strange pop music is - or any other cultural phenomenon, for that matter. Billy Joel never ever quite hit the A List, even at his peak, and he rarely gets mentioned now. But I do like this album. and if the tape ever got eaten, I'd probably replace it on CD.

Madchester Music

Actually, I'm not entirely sure that they are all from Manchester. But being that they were all taped from Dr. Matt's CDs, in the days when he was Mr. Matt or maybe even Master Matt, I can sort of say they're all from Manchester...

I start with the Inspiral Carpets Life. It started, and I thought "Oh god, I've let myself in for an hour and a half of crap, just because I vowed to play my entire record collection by forty."

Then a few minutes later, This is How it Feels came on, and I realised that this is indeed a pleasant song. She Comes In The Fall would also make it to a theoretical compilation of Madchester Music. I thought I wasn't going to enjoy this, but I did.

Next up is Happy Mondays' Hallelujah. As I write this, I'm on the second track, Clap Your Hands, and so far it's dire. I can't see it getting much better, because there's only seven tracks, and two of those are Club Mixes of previous tracks.

Then we have James Live, Stripmine and Stutter by James: one of the great under rated acts of all time, IMO. Some fab tracks - of course, Come Home is the greatest. I wouldn't really single out any others for 'greatness' but I would say that overall, all three James albums are pleasant listening. There's a distinct James sound that pleases me.

I like James.

Callas

I am slowly working through my collection of 'artist albums'.

Let it be said that Maria Callas was the greatest female singer of the 20th Century. Anybody with a penchant for collecting compilations in general and artist albums, of singers in particular, cannot really be without a Callas album. This one is the Very Best Of...

However, La Callas is also an acquired taste. I am not totally sure that I have acquired that taste. On opera newsgroups and forums she is the subject of more posts than almost any other singer. She was extraordinary - one of the first very first actor-singers, rather than the stand-and-deliver unbelievable school. Not that much visual evidence exists of her performances - the only opera on film is Act 2 from Tosca.

But you really have to listen to her to hear technique. To hear why the search for the 'new Callas' is endless and ongoing. But I wonder how much of her fame 27 after her death is about the disastrous relationship with Onassis, who dumped her the tragic Jackie. Oh you know it, all those Sixties icons.

There's a film out about her at the moment, Callas Forever. Rather mixed reviews. Some say that it's just Zeff's Opera Queen fantasy (Zeff is obsessed with Maria. Absolutely obsessed).

Just don't try listening to both CDs of the double set back-to-back.

Ducks, scared of a possible onslaught by Callas fans...

REM & RFTC

I have very many REM albums on cassette, taped off my brother's CDs when he was still at school. Last Christmas he gave me The Best of REM - In Time 1988-2003.

So, REM. Yet another band that I have liked a lot for over fifteen years. I really can't find a bad thing to say against them. Yet I have never raved about them. In my liking League they are not 'right up there'. Sometimes I think they ought to be.

But this 'The Best of...' is a very good album. I suppose it is a really good illustration of how cutting-edge alternative bands all eventually 'sell-out' to mainstream.  My favourite tracks are Man on The Moon, Losing My Religion,  The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight, and , of course, Everybody Hurts, a perennial favourite on pub jukeboxes. Bizarrely it does not contain It's the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine), which I would have thought to be one of their most popular songs. It also doesn't contain very many of my favourite tracks from their albums. But I shall blog these in due course.

The packaging is standard - a twenty page booklet including a narrative written by Peter Buck on the songs. The actual disc is in three colours - black, white and blue, the blue being a repeat of the moon on the front cover.

Rocket From the Crypt's eponymously titled CD  is a hidden gem in my record collection. I bought it about five years ago, with birthday vouchers. I don't think I have played it very many times, which is a shame, because it's really rather good rock. The packaging is nothing to look at- seems almost amateurish - but the music is enjoyable.

I put it on random; the first track that came up was When In Rome. I like this,, I thought, it must be the best one on the Cd. Then Made for You came next. Ooh, this is good. This CD deserves to played more often!

Der Ring des Nibelungen

The Royal Opera has a brand new production of Der Ring des Nibelungen starting 18 December and emerging in exciting installments (four, in all...) during htis and next season

Feature on Antonio Pappano ROH's Music Director and brilliant conductor.

The genius of Wagner

Fifty things you need to know about The Ring

Interview with Bryn 'Wotan' Terfel

Lord Scarman RIP

Obituary: Lord Scarman

Not without interest to me, of course. The Scarman Report into the 1981 Brixton riots brought about major changes to policing, particular in the Inner Cities, particularly in attitude to black people, young black men in particular.

Word association

I say Val Doonican

You say.......?

Adrian Sevitz Superstar

Update: And the lovely Shelagh, too, who has pointed out the same thing to me - Shelagh, I'm not including your link because I can't quite remember whether you are being elusive or fully public. But will, of course, if you wish!

What a truly wonderful person is mine and your favourite Saffir Mr Sleazy Sevitz who came through with a wonderful email

Haven’t upgraded yet, but doesn’t MT 3.12 use dynamic publishing? So it automatically generates archives? So it wont publish anything to a file.

So, I have an instant quick-fix - change my archives to be built statically, at least pro-tem, because there's a curry with my name on it.

Adrian, see you at the Green Man - name your poison!

And as I assume Shelagh won't be at the Green Man, maybe she would like to name a drink for Adrian to consume?

Carreras Live!

I booked this ticket a while ago, deciding that I really wanted to see Josep Carreras, but I had no idea what the programme would be.

To summarise, I'd give Josep an 8/10, but the programme - well, it was Christmas at the Royal Albert Hall with Jose Carreras and the Vienna Boys Choir (who also score at least 8/10) - no more than 4/10, if that.

The programme was unrelently Middle England, with Classic FM adverts prominent in the programme. Playlist below.

Mind you, I enjoyed it tremendously! When Josep first sung, I thought, 'oh no, I've paid all this money to hear one of my favourite singers and his voice has gone...'.  But he warmed up and sounded, generally, lovely. I say 'generally' because I was not impressed with his top - or lack of it, the straining to get some top notes (which wasn't helped by the faces he pulled as he strained!). But top notes aside, I loved listening to his voice! And I think he may have had a cold.

I was a bit thrown by the use of amplification. Okay, the Albert Hall is enormous, but from where I was sitting he really didn't need a microphone, especially as he let rip on some spectacular fortes. A really gorgeous voice, although far past his prime. I couldn't help thinking that he's aged somewhat, but when he smiled...ooh, what a smile!  Shame I didn't manage to capture one photo of him smiling!

As I walked out for the interval I overheard someone saying that they were disappointed he hadn't spoken to the audience. I guessed - hoped - that that would happen in the second half. But he didn't. I wasn't frightfully upset. He manages to convey sufficient charisma through singing alone.

I wondered how many of the people in the audience had been to Andrea Bocelli or are planning to see Russell Watson. It would be interesting to know their reactions, because although Bocelli and Watson are at the age to be at the peak of their careers, and Carreras is well past his best, I would be very surprised if the aforementioned bar-room crooners could perform a fraction as well as Carreras. There again, some people favour barroom crooners over a properly trained, supremely talented operatic tenor in full throttle.

Before I went out, I had, with mock-disdain, commented that, no doubt, there would be loads of fanatical adoring fans. Well, there were a good few, including quite a number queuing up to give him presents (it was his 58th birthday on Sunday). Much to the contempt of the obnoxious family in front of me, of course...!

The Vienna Boys Choir were delightful, and the orchestra - the City of London Sinfonia were very good.

I did notice an odd acoustic effect. I was sat in Stalls Left (block H) at about 90 degrees to the stage. The percussion was on the extreme left of the stage (as looked at from the audience), but I was entirely thrown as their sound appeared to come from the right.

 

Being with the ignorant

The difficulty when frequenting public spaces is, well, the public.

A lot of strangers to London fret about the sheer numbers of people inhabiting the public transport system, but, to me, with a few exceptions, the morning rush hour is an almost perfect example of how rational people perceive that acting for the greater good of the greater community actually benefits themself - enlightened self-interest?

I have a theory that considerable proportions of the population live most of their lives in a hermetically sealed environment. They go everywhere by car, and much of their leisure time is spent at home or, rarely, in some sterile quasi-restaurant, where interaction with others is minimised. It seems that have little instinct or understanding for how to conduct themselves outside of the hermetic seal.

Last night, I encountered a family who were quite possibly the rudest, most ignorant, arrogant and solipsistic that I have ever encountered, except on package holidays. And they were sat directly in front of me in the Royal Albert Hall. Two couples - the older couple were the parents of the younger woman. Her husband was also there. Mum and Dad were seated long before me; daughter and son-in-law sat down a couple of minutes before the start.

Daughter arrived and exclaimed. It's harsh to judge people on their accent, but she spoke exactly like the ghastly P. with whom I used to work, and not dissimilar to the almost-as-ghastly L. with whom I worked elsewhere. Straight out of Essex - not that I'm anti-Essex, three of my best friends, polite, considerate and aware women, are all from Essex. Heck, I used to live in Essex.

Her initial comment amused me "I can't believe it's full. I can't believe there are people standing on the top level!". She had clearly never been before to the RAH. Which is fine, but, I wanted to say "See it, believe it..." That was just harmless, but it was kind of indicative of the rest of the evening.

The first piece was orchestral. So Father and son-in-law decided to talk. Uh-oh, I thought 'it's just a quiet piece, nothing's going on, we might as well chatter'. I won't describe in detail the extent to which they were talking. But in an Albert Hall filled just about to capacity (6,000; 7,000?) you thought they would have realised that there wasn't a lot of talking going on.

Let's just say that halfway through La virgen lava pañales, Father said loudly "It's in Spanish!" The fact that the singer was Spanish (well, Catalonian, actually) and that the programme printed the song title with a tilde might have been a clue, anyway.

We got to Silent Night, and the son made some loud noise along the lines of 'I know this song, I don't like it'. Then father repeated "It's in Spanish..." By the third verse he proudly proclaimed to everybody "It's in English" Duh!

Daughter was full of herself, spending most of the concert with her head on husband's shoulder. I don't think she was really paying attention, but her constant fidgeting was distracting me. Then she would kiss the husband and then look round to make sure that everybody had noticed. 'Everybody' was largely older couples, and women in their twos and threes of various ages. Behind me was a forty-ish couple with daughters of maybe 12 and 9.

Each choir piece was greeted at the end by son-in-law exclaiming "Beautiful, beautiful." Which was true, and would have been entirely inoffensive, except that he was an offensive man. Father-in-law decided to sing along to the overture from Die Fledermaus. Well, I say sing....And father and son-in-law both 'sang' along to White Christmas.

It was funny at the end/encores. Son-in-law decided to whistle - he explained loudly that he wanted the star to be greeted with applause when he returned for a bow (because, like, the rest of the 7,000 crowd were sitting on their hands...). Various audience members were calling for various songs. Obnoxious son-in-law repeated over-and-again "He'll sing Santa Maria. He'll definitely sing Santa Maria." Loudly, so that loads of people could hear him. I was trying to work out whether he wanted Santa Lucia or O sole mio!

After about the third encore, one member of the orchestra left. Son-in-law kept telling people it was nearly over because the 'man with the horn' had left. I did so want to tap him on the shoulder and say 'Tuba'.

Not one of these incidents in themselves was particularly obnoxious, but the behaviour of the father and the younger couple, throughout two-and-a-half hours was one of ongoing irritation and utter disregard for those sat in close proximity and casting them filthy looks. They behaved as if they were in their living room at home, when, clearly they weren't. (Bizarrely, Mother was ignored for the entirety).

You think, what would it take to make people like that understand that their actions impact on others, and to make them see that therefore they shouldn't behave in such a way? There is no direct benefit to them in controlling their poor behaviour and ill manners; they therefore would disregard all attempts to persuade them to self-discipline. Unfortunately, most of their grossness was in the second half; if they have behaved like that in the first, I would have demanded their removal, or my money back (this was, incidentally, the most expensive event ticket I have ever bought...!). They are probably the same people that park their car regardless of the fact that it will then cause two miles of bumper-to-bumper slow-moving gridlock - doesn't matter, doesn't affect them.

When I had a coughing fit the son-in-law turned round and shussed me. I would have been entirely outraged if it wasn't that the coughing fit was a direct result of suppressing a giggling fit at the start of White Christmas, IMO, one of the naffest and cheesiest, and irrelevant songs ever written. During my giggling fit I got the decided feeling that the star of the evening was looking daggers directly at me (probably not, of course, in an audience of 7000, but have you ever got that feeling?)

FA Cup Stats

The Beeb has Out-0f-Date stats on All-time Top 10 clubs in the FA Cup.

United have won eleven times to Arsenal's 9 and Spurs' 8; United are now equal to Arsenal's 16 Final Appearances.

Liverpool have only won it six times.

Don't forget that United are up against Chelsea in the Mickey Mouse semmi-final. All neutrals should be supporting United because Roman Abramovich is a horrible man.

Third Round - Magic of the Cup

Yeading face Newcastle in FA Cup

Good for Yeading - if I was their Finance Director (or do I mean Honorary Treasurer) I would be rubbing my hands with unmitigated glee.

But I am not sure that I would call it the Tie of the Round, as the BBC are. They're opting to play it at Yeading. Get real - they ought to go to St James's Park.

Meanwhile, in news from the other St James's Park - Exeter's Finance Director is already cracking open the champagne at the thought of an away fixture at 65,000 capacity Old Trafford, and the chance to play against the FA Cup Holders, the world's most famous football team, with their star names, even in Reserves.

I love the romance of the Third Round. As a one-time and residual Altrincham fan I need no lessons on what it means to meet a big team in that round. I do remember a draw with Tottenham, a victory over Birmingham City. I remember how Cup Fever gripped Altrincham.

But it isn't just the bean-counter in me that realises that for small clubs, especially, the non-League clubs, a Third Round match at Old Trafford, and the opportunity for one or two players to showcase themselves and be sold on is a lifeline and a godsend.

Christmas came early for the Grecians today as we got our dream tie away at Manchester United

screams their website

Exeter City's debts expected to be wiped out by FA Cup trip to Old Trafford

shouts the Express and Echo - vital to a club with a Corporate Voluntary Agreement, which I assume is a form of Voluntary Liquidation.

Of course, I am United through-and-through, but would I begrudge Exeter the replay...?

Of course, in 1984, when United were Cupholders, they suffered an embarrassing loss to Bournemouth in the Third Round. United very rarely get minnows in the Third Round.

Exeter are not expecting OT to be filled to capacity. I imagine Fergie will field a team made up mainly of fledgelings - including world Cup Winner Kleberson, 50-times England capped Phil Neville etc etc.

So it may be an opportunity to get an elusive ticket for Old Trafford.

I'm just saying, y'know...

Of course, if I attend, that would practically guarantee an Exeter victory. I'm Jonah, you see...