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National Crime Reading Month

NCRM-2022-banner-300x160The Crime Writers Association, in partnership with The Reading Agency, is sponsoring National Crime Reading Month in June. There will be a fabulous launch at Waterstones, Piccadilly on 1st June (I’ll be posting photographs) and a whole tranche of events are already scheduled (see link). It is hoped that more will follow, in local libraries and book groups and the CWA has listed crime writers ready and willing to participate in said events on the crimereading.com web-site.

Here in south London one of the NCRM local Ambassadors, Anne Coates, is teaming up with fellow south Londoner, Alice Castle and myself to produce ‘Sister Sleuths’. Each of us has books set in London, oftenSister Sleuths2 south London – Clapham in my case, where Cassandra Fortune lives, Dulwich, home of Hannah Weybridge in Anne’s series and Dulwich, Herne Hill and Belsize Park, among others, for Beth Haldane in Alice’s. The tales range across the capital, taking in Westminster, Theatreland, Fleet Street and the yummy mummy nappy valleys of south London as well as rather less salubrious locations, like King’s Cross and Elephant and Castle.

As you can see all our protagonists are women, hence the name. Cassandra is a civil servant, Hannah an investigative journalist and Beth an office worker; two of them are single mums. All of them get drawn into investigations by circumstances (though Cassie is more than willing in Plague, in order to get her career back on track).

ClaphamBooksLogoFirst stop on the ‘Sister Sleuths’ tour is at Clapham Books on 8th June, doors open at 6.30pm for a 7 o’clock start, later in the month we’ll be at Chener Books, on Lordship Lane in East Dulwich and, it is planned, more south London venues (details will be available on the Events page of this site). The events will be free to attend and should be fun. Anne’s Hannah Weybridge series which started with a tale inspired by Anne’s real-life journalism in Dancers in the WindChenerBooks is already five books long and Alice’s Beth Haldane (and her on-off boyfriend DI Harry York) has appeared in even more, beginning with Death in Dulwich. I am lagging behind with only two, though that will be increased in the Autumn when Opera, the third Cassandra Fortune is published.

I’ll also be speaking about researching both Plague and Oracle at the Riverside Book Club in Sunbury on Thames on 16th June. It is a long-standing date in the diary, but, as serendipity would have it, now part of NCRM. There will almost certainly be an event near you, across the country. But the idea behind NCRM is to encourage readers to create events for themselves and, at time of writing, the site currently includes over sixty crime writers of different types and sub-genres ( a figure that will grow as June approaches ) who are prepared to participate in these events. The website includes tips and hints on organising and promoting events, together with NCRM literature and templates. So contact your local library or book group and suggest an event. Or come along to one of mine.

A Salutary Tale

SundayTimesdebaucheryheadlineToday’s news media is full of stories about the casual misogyny and sexually predatory culture of the Palace of Westminster ( not just the Commons, though that features more often than the Lords ). This isn’t new. When I was writing Plague (Claret Press, 2020) I was taken to task by one of the readers of an early manuscript. She commented on my depiction of a male dominated, testosterone fuelled, hard drinking place, in which women MPs were treated as decorative, or routinely verbally abused and female civil servants and Parliamentary researchers ‘fair game’, saying it was incorrect to such a degree that no one would believe it in the twenty-first century. I begged to differ.

If you haven’t read Plague, be prepared for some spoilers, courtesy of the newspapers.

Of course, not all male, or female, MPs and Peers behave in such an ante-diluvian fashion, but there is aSunday Postdebauchery significant minority who do, as recently confirmed by the current, female, Attorney General, and witness the recent resignation of Neil Parish. The Palace is an unique and strange workplace, with MPs often far from home and under tremendous pressure, from their peers as well as the Whips. There is many an decent, family man (and they do tend to be men, but this isn’t exclusively male) in his constituency who lives a rather different life in Westminster. The ready availability of alcohol (or the stimulant of your choice) doesn’t help either. Catherine Bennett’s article in today’s Observer newspaper lists some examples from the Tory benches (see here).

Believe it or not, television in the chamber and the increasing number of women in Parliament has meant some improvement. Gone are the days when there was no debating cut-off time and the bars would be open (and full) until one or two in the morning, when MPs would spill out (sometimes quite literally) into the chamber to vote. It was a very tough woman who survived in that environment, though they have to be tough today too – witness the torrent of abuse poured on an MP like Diane Abbott. One of my villains is an MP who routinely regards women as prey and another a Lord who aids and abets him.

Cover_Template.inddBut back to Plague. We have been here before, when the media, or those parts of it more interested in fact than propaganda, reported on the scandals around PPE (and other) contracts handed, without competition, to cronies and the special ‘VIP lane’ of government procurement. There have been successful court cases branding the behaviour of the government unlawful.

The syphoning of money from the public purse into the pockets of cronies and allies via large government contracts is one constituent part of my villain’s modus operandi. My publishers even made a podcast programme about it COVID, Corruption and Crony Capitalism, which is still available, because the parallels were so obvious. Said villain has made a fortune in the City, he talks about the power of money and the super wealthy using the City to launder ill-gotten gains and buy up property. One of his international associates is a Russian oligarch in London.

Thus far the only other major element in the crime plot of Plague which hasn’t made the headlines is the murders (no one would want that to be real). Nonetheless, it’s worth reflecting on my heroine’s view of the Palace of Westminster when considering this weekend’s stories. I suspect there’s more to come.

Whitehall lay in front of them. At its far end, she saw the Palace of Westminster. The Elizabeth Tower was still shrouded in scaffolding, obscuring the clock face. Green netting was wound around the west face of St Stephen’s Porch. What else enmeshed the Palace and those within it? Had the corruption already taken hold, bringing its odour as surely as the subterranean Tyburn, flowing beneath it, brought the stench of putrefaction?

The opera…

… is Tosca, by Giacomo Puccini.In my forthcoming thriller, Opera, characters go to the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, to a Gala performance. So, not only have I been seeking out performances of Tosca (see Shivering in the Park with Tosca  ) but also imagesTosacSarahBernhardt2 connected with it.

To begin with the original play, La Tosca, by Victorien Sardou, which premiered in 1887, starring Sarah Bernhardt as the diva. Bernhardt often appeared in Sardou’s historical dramas and they were always promoted using posters by Alphonse Mucha, usually depicting Bernhardt herself. But here she is (left) standing over the prone body of the evil chief of the secret police, Baron Scarpia, on a postcard. Postcards like these were relatively recent innovations and very popular at the time.

Bernhardt toured with La Tosca, across Europe and the Americas, to great acclaim, but today the play has largely been forgotten, other than as the original upon whichTosca_poster(1899) Puccini’s opera was based. The first performance of the opera was in 1900 in Rome and the poster was by Adolfo Hohenstein who also designed the stage sets. It is very much in the Art Noveau style of Mucha and features the same scene as the Bernhardt postcard, a scene which was to feature again and again in images of the opera. The pious Tosca sets candles at the head of the Baron, whom she has just killed ( in self-defence, as he has just tried to rape her ) and places a crucifix on his chest.

When Tosca was first performed it wasn’t that well received by the critics, although the public loved, and continues to love, it. This divergence has continued, to an extent, with the American musicologist Joseph Kerman calling it a ‘shabby little shocker’ in the 1950s. Its continuing success with audiences, conductors and performers has, to an extent silenced the nay-sayers, but it is sometimes still regarded as too florid, melodramatic and insufficiently high-minded.

ToscaNakedMany of the more modern images are explicit about the subject matter and the link the opera makes between sex and death (see left). The dagger is a recurring motif, as is blood – red is the most popular colour. The Castel Sant’Angelo appears too. Tosca herself, as in Bernhardt’s time, is often the the central image, although other posters prefer to concentrate on Scarpia, like that for Florida State Opera (right). Only a few depict Cavaradossi, the hero. Ordinarily one might say that this is an example of ToscaFloridaState ‘the devil has all the best tunes’, except that in the opera itself, it is the tenor arias, belonging to Cavaradossi, which are most memorable.

So, aside from a performance occurring in Opera what else does Tosca have in common with my book? First, the action of it, like the opera is set in close to ‘real time’ and in ‘real places’. Tosca was unusual for an opera in that it was set on specific days, the afternoon and evening of 17th and the morning of 18th of June, 1800. In it, the forces of repression, including Baron Scarpia, believe that Napoleon has been defeated at the battle of Marengo, on June 14th, only for news to arrive that, in fact, there was a rearguard action and Napoleon prevailed. Good news for Cavarodossi, the democrat and his lover, Floria Tosca. There is an ongoing battle in Opera, but it isn’t of the traditional sort.

Opera is also about democracy under attack and it too involves the world of spies and secret police. My heroine, Cassandra has to confront her own Baron Scarpia. More on the parallels in a later post.

Opera will be published by Claret Press on 5th September 2022.

Gift Box

PrincessMary'sBox1A metal box, that’s all it is. Not precious metal either, probably brass, at least that’s how it looks when polished, though bits are silver in colour, so it could possibly be tin or another alloy. Approximately 130 centimetres across, 85 from front edge to back and 30cm/1 inch deep, it would fit in a uniform pocket.

On the lid is a portrait in relief of a young woman’s head, hair swept up , within a wreathe of laurel and flanked by a scrolled letter ‘M’ on each side. This represents Princess Mary, the then seventeen-year-old daughter of King George V who launched an appeal in October 1914 to raise money for the ‘Soldiers and Sailors Christmas Fund’, or so the advertisements in the British press of the time described it.

PrincessMary'sBox3£152, 691 was raised and manufacturing of the boxes began. Although originally meant for ‘every sailor afloat and every soldier at the front’ on Christmas Day 1914, this was widened to include anyone serving, wearing the King’s uniform on Christmas Day. About 400,000 were distributed before or at Christmas, though the tally eventually reached 2.5 million, although many of those weren’t distributed until 1920, after the war was over. ‘Serving’ is appropriate, as I remember, as a child, a  ‘christmas box’ was something given to tradespeople, postmen, anyone who had served you well during the year preceding.

The British class system meant that officer’s boxes were made of silver, while other ranks received brass boxes, although, as the numbers grew and the money ran low, later boxes were made from tin or alloys. The design on the lid was the same for all the boxes, featuring military weapons, an axe and a sword across the top, pikes down the sides and, just to prove that Britannia ruled the waves, two gun ships across the bottom. At the four corners and in line with the image of Princess Mary to the side are six shields, each bearing the name of an ally. France and Russia take pride of place with the princess, while Belgium, Japan, Montenegro and Servia (Serbia) are in the four corners. The last two, plus Belgium, probably represented the initial theatres of the war. Above Princess Mary is a shield bearing the words PrincessMary'sBox2‘Imperium Britannicus’ and below her a lozenge bearing the inscription ‘Christmas 1914’.

The tins contained, typically, an ounce of tobacco, a packet of cigarettes in a yellow, monogrammed wrapper, a cigarette lighter, a Christmas card and a photograph from Princess Mary. Some also contained chocolate and sweets. Needless to say the contents has long since disappeared, but it probably brought some pleasure to its recipient.

The box was given to me recently by a friend, a soldier who had served for years at the Embassy in Islamabad. Pakistan is, I am told, full of such remnants of empire, military memorabilia from bygone ages available to buy in the bazaars for very little. It was a very lovely gift, a small piece of history, with many resonances, some tragic and heroic, some less laudible, like Britain’s colonial past, but I was very grateful to receive it.

Nights on the town

From Brixton to Pimlico, I’ve been having some unusual writerly fun out and about recently.

BrixtonBookJamAllFirst at the famed Brixton Book Jam held at the Hootananny, Brixton. I’d never been to the Book Jam and was surprised when a friend and fellow writer remarked on how scary it was. The Hootananny is, I discovered, a live music venue, a big room with a full height stage, sound system and spotlights. Suddenly I understood what she meant. On a freezing Monday night in March it seemed very daunting. There was a mixed line-up of writers. I got there early and sat chatting to one of the most experienced performers, Paul Eccentric and his wife Donna Ray. They were live Festival veterans (seven Glastonburys) on the poetry circuit, Paul being half of the Antipoet. The other half, a bassist, came along to watch.

The really enjoyable part of appearing was the chatting with the other writers in the Green Room off to the right of the stage, a Hootananny Brixton GreenRoom fabulous side room wall-papered with posters of previous performers. It’s terrifically nostalgic and much time was spent spotting bands we recognised or knew from more youthful days. Zelda Rhiando, herself a published writer and the organiser of the Jam, was there to calm our nerves and point out the beers in the little fridge and the bottles of wine. I swore not to touch a drop before I went on.

I was not, I discovered, the only one with nerves, yet all of us were used to discussing books, our own and others’ in public. It was that high stage, the single mic and the coloured spotlights (which ran the whole spectrum) which looked so terrifying. The hall was filling up and Zelda said we were off. The first writer’s hands were shaking as he waited at the foot of the stairs to the stage. I was on fourth, to end the first set before the interval and I managed. I even got a laugh at my wry comment at the beginning about my cardigan. Phew, it was over. A big glass of wine later I was back in the Green Room to support the others. Ashley, West and Zelda were all  tremendous.

Millbank1Brixton Book Jam was not my only interesting night on the town. Only three days later I attended the first meeting of the London chapter of the Crime Writer’s Association since before the pandemic. Held in the fantastic Morpeth Arms on Millbank a great group of fellow scribes chatted books, publishers, contracts, remuneration and anything else we fancied. Then Anthony, intrepid manager of the pub, asked if we would like a ‘tour’. A tour of what? It transpired that the public house had used to stand adjacent to the notorious Millbank Prison and that, beneath the ground, elements leading to that place still existed. Down steep stairs and beyond the barrels and machinery we entered a long corridor with archways on one side. The corridor had once been open to the air, the dividing line between prison and pub.

At the end of the corridor was a dark arch leading to a tunnel. This was the route used to bring convictsMillbank2jpg out of the prison down to the prison hulks moored on the Thames. They would then be removed to the transportation ships bound for Australia. The pub was, Anthony informed us, one of the most haunted in London. But the writers’ imaginations were already hard at work and one of us was already speculating aloud about a crime plot using the tunnels. This is, I guess, the sort of thing that happens when a group of Crime Writers gets together. I’ll be looking forward to the next meeting.

Writers appearing in the photos on this blog are, from the top, left to right, Just Dennis, Paul Eccentric, Leo Moynihan, Paul Bassett Davies, me, Ashley Hickson Lovence, West Camel and Zelda Rhiando. Subterranean we are Victoria Dowd, Matthew Ross, Jonathan Rigby and Anne Coates. The hands belong to Vaseem Khan. Thanks to Katie Allen for the multiple pic.

The Art of Stonehenge

The British Museum’s blockbuster Spring exhibition is ‘The World of Stonehenge’ and it is superb. Covering not just the enormous and iconic Wiltshire monument itself, but the society which built it and those which preceded and followed it, I found this informative, surprising and I’m going back to see it again.

Stonehenge8I hadn’t appreciated the level of sophistication of the dwellers in this land from about 6,000 to 4,000 years ago. The world-view of the earliest, revolving around nature and the seasons, like many hunter-gatherer people, was shared across northern Europe. Of course, until about 6500 BCE and the rising of post Ice Age sea levels, the UK was part of the landmass of that continent. Although subsequently an island archipelago, the peoples who lived here had regular contact with their counterparts on the mainland. This can be seen in their art and craftwork, but also measured by their DNA. One of the most striking examples of this was of the Amesbury Archer. Bones belonging to this man, buried with his bow, were DNA tested. He was originally from the southern Alpine region, though he had lived in southern England for most of his life. Near his grave is that of another, younger man who shares the first’s DNA and is likely to have been his grandson. This man was born and lived most of his life in the Alps, but he was clearly in Amesbury when he met his end. A family visit? Or did the grandson come to live with his grandparents?

Some of the earliest artefacts, the axe and maceheads dating from 3000 to 3500 BCE, are some of the mostStonehenge3 beautiful. Perfectly carved and turned stones, with elaborate patterning, these weren’t to be used for everyday, but were ceremonial and included in burials. I was fascinated by one aspect of that early culture, that ‘art’ lay in the act of creation, not, or not only, in the item produced by it. Thus, things did not have the same value as the ability to create them, which seems an eminently sensible value system to me. There is also a wonderful, finely wrought golden collar from this era. Gold was used, not because it had any intrinsic value, but because it was the colour of and reflected the light from, the sun.

Stonehenge7The exhibition explains, through artefacts, how that culture changed, with the introduction of farming and a concentration on animals and other aspects of nature as a commodity. Art was still relatively fluid, in that stone carvings were made outside and weren’t ‘finished’ objects, but people added to them all the time. This is also true of Stonehenge itself. The landscape in which it was built was already crossed by ceremonial ditches and banks and, after the great sarsen stones were raised, carved on mortice and tenon principles ( see photograph, left)  it was added to years later with blue stones brought from Wales, over 220 miles away.

The delicacy and beauty of some pieces reminded me of another exhibition at the BM, pre-pandemic, Stonehenge2on Troy. This exhibition places the British pieces in that cross-cultural context, with a collection of armour, roughly contemporaneous to the Illiad and not dissimilar to that worn in ancient Greece (though the helmets look more like Janissaries). There were also exquisite golden drinking bowls and fine copper horsehead artefacts (the horse featured strongly as did the snake, the bird and the sun and moon ). This was a culture close to nature, even when that nature was largely tamed.

One of the most surprising as well as the most beautiful items was the so-called Nebra Sky-disc, showing the night sky, its stars and the positions of the sun and moon at three different times, with the disc itself having three different horizon lines to align with the actual, depending on Nebra_Sky_Disc_hero_1920x1320the time of the lunar month. This shows a level of sophistication in understanding of the movement of the stars and planets which is reinforced when one sees how many barrows and henges were aligned with sun and, or, moon. The exhibition ranges across many of these, from Denmark, Ireland, the islands of Scotland as well as Wales, Spain, France and elsewhere in England. It also shows how the sea began to play a greater and greater role in the culture of the people living here, as trading took place and the sea itself became a place to worship. There is a recreation of the remarkable Seahenge discovered in the saltmarsh of the Norfolk coast and which, incidentally, features in the crime fiction of Elly Griffiths’ Ruth Galloway books.

The exhibition gives visitors a look into an ancient, but far from unsophisticated world. It runs until July and costs £22 or £25 (with donation) to enter and the accompanying book is pretty good too. As I’ve said, I’ll be going back again.

The Language of Music

David_Butt_Philip_Masterclass_Flyer_FrontIn particular the language we use when we talk about singing.

On Thursday night in south London there was a singing Masterclass at St Paul’s Opera, given by David Butt Philip (Royal Opera House, ENO, New York Metropolitan, the Vienna Statsoper) to five young singers, the opera stars of tomorrow. Hector Bloggs (baritone), Alex Akhurst (tenor), Anna Marmion (soprano), Fiona Hymns (soprano) and Martins Smaukstelis (tenor) have all begun their performing careers, at St Paul’s Opera, among other places. They sang, respectively, Donizetti ( Come Paride Vezzoso from L’elisir d’amore ) Bizet (Je croix entendre encore from Les Pecheur de Perles), Mozart (the first Queen of the Night aria from Die Zauberflote) and Puccini (Mi chiamano Mimi from La Boheme – Fiona and Parigi e la citta from La Rondine – Martins ).

DBP apologised from the outset because he was suffering from laryngitis and would be singing less than was his usual practice, nonetheless he was able to demonstrate – in every register – how improvements could be made. They most certainly were, each singer adapting their original performance as DBP took them through each piece, sometimes line by line (and not letting them get away with anything). It was fascinating to watch and listen to.

He was equally interesting afterwards, talking about singing. During the Masterclass he had encouraged one singer to ‘almost forget the text’ and to ‘sing through the words’ – this singer had a history in choral music and had been taught to enunciate every word clearly, which wasn’t necessarily the right thing to do in opera. The next singer, of Bizet, he encouraged to ‘use the vowels’ to add resonance and drama – this was Bizet after all ‘it’s romantic music’. The next he encouraged to shorten the vowels and stress the consonants, using a more glottal sound to create slight breaks in emphasis, this was in the Mozart. On more than one occasion he added ‘Sing on the body.’

So how far does the language in which the singer was singing impacted upon the sung presentation – the glottal German, the liquid Italian and so on – and how far it was technique, regardless of language? DBP replied that it was a balance, of course the language impacted, but it was also about the degree of legato (singing in a smooth, even style, without any noticeable break between the notes) most suited to any particular piece or phrase within a piece. He defined ‘singing on the body’ as always having the sound produced supported by the diaphragm.

So this led to a brief discussion about how we  describe singing. A teacher of the violin can suggest a student holds the bow differently, or places their hand higher up the neck of the violin. A teacher of guitar might ask her student to play higher up the frets. But a singing teacher can’t tell their student to ‘raise their larynx’, the human body isn’t quite the same sort of instrument. The beginner can be told about posture and learn how to control their breathing when singing, but, at this level that has already been mastered. So instead we use metaphor. More diminuendo on a long held high note, then returningDavid_Butt_Philip _Fundraising_Gala_Image_Eventbrite to the crescendo, was described as the ‘luxury version’. ‘Don’t be polite, don’t apologise for the note’ signified not to sing it lightly, not giving it due sound, but to sing it loudly, the quality of loudness being needed in a theatre. Also, ‘complete the note’, indicated holding it for as long as necessary. Easily understood, though less easy to define.

It was such an interesting and enjoyable evening. David Butt Philip will be returning to St Paul’s in a Gala concert on 24th March raising funds for the Opera, to enable them to fund young artist’s bursaries and reach out to local schools. At £30 a ticket, to see four remarkable singers, it’s a snip.

For myself, I move onto a different type of performance next Monday, at the first Live Brixton Book Jam since COVID.bookjam-banner-7-mar-22 It’s at the Hootananny, 95 Effra Road, Brixton, SW2 1DF and doors open at 7.30 pm on 7th March, where I’ll be appearing alongside William Ryan, Ashley Hickson-Lovence, Leo Moynihan, West Camel, Paul Bassett Davies and Paul Eccentric. It’s free to attend and there’s booze and books on sale. If you’re in south London why not come along?

Post-Festival blues (or greys)

FlamencoTeatroIt will take a while for the complex rhythms of flamenco to leave my head. The interlacing of voice with the clapping of hands, the stamping of feet and various musical accompaniments, but especially the guitar, has been ubiquitous for me over the past nine days. From wonderful professional performances by masters of their art to the joyous dancing of the students of the schools of flamenco on Plaza Belen before an appreciative, local crowd, it has been a delight. This morning’s grey south London has nothing to compare with the vibrancy and colour of Jerez de la Frontera, where the scent of orange blossom is already in the air.

FlamencoDanielCasaresTwo amazing guitarists were the bookends to our festival this year. We began with Salvador Gutierrez in the converted 16th century church of the Sala Compania. He played a loose and fluid form of flamenco guitar, often varying completely from the melodic into atonality and jazz, only to return to the melody later with supreme artistry. Our festival was closed by Daniel Casares, (left) whose recordings I will seek out. His playing was more traditional in style but he too ranged widely, interweaving with the light and liquid flute of a flautist whose name I didn’t catch and who isn’t credited on the official programme. This was a very informal type of show, with people climbing up on to the stage from the audience to join in. I’ve attached a clip below (starts after five seconds).

FlamencoManuelLinanIn between we were treated to some remarkable dancing. Manuel Linan, darling of the Festival, was back at Teatro Villamarta with a new show Pie de Hierro. Named for and dedicated to his father, who was injured in a road traffic accident which curtailed his career as a bull fighter, but who placed his own heavy expectations on his youngest son, Linan; this complex and difficult relationship is explored in terms of conformity and rebellion, tradition and personal expression. Linan likens this to his relationship with flamenco. There’s a full interview in Lavozdelsur here. It was a highly personal show and very different to the wonderful ensemble work in Viva! or the clever Reversible. The dancing was, as ever, exquisite and powerful at the same time and David Carpio, a long time collaborator with Linan, admirably represented the father/tradition figure in song. A duet between two guitars, one electric, one flamenco, extended the metaphor of duel and dialogue. It was wonderful too.

Javier Fergo

Less personal, but also excellent, was Alfonso Losa, dancing at the same venue with Concha Jareno. The stage pictures of them dancing separately, but in absolute unison, will stay in the memory for a long time. The sensuality on show, with minimal physical contact, was remarkable and totally unlike another pairing, that of Olga Pericet and Daniel Abreu at the Atalaya Museum. That was born out of flamenco but had moved a long way away from it, into the realm of modern dance, atonal white noise and strobe lighting. The artistry was breathtaking, though sexy it wasn’t. This was the second part of an ongoing work which Pericet began developing some years ago and which she aims to complete in 2023, inspired by the famous guitarist Antonio De Torres.

FlamencoPlazaBelen1Much more laid back (though probably not for the participants) was our Andalucia Day morning in Plaza Belen watching the students of the various flamenco schools strutting their stuff. Everyone got their turn in the spotlight and everyone received applause from the predominantly local crowd sitting in the amphitheatre and standing near the stage (proud relatives included). Then we all went off to eat venison at an open air cinema. Perfect.

Official photography is by Javier Fergo (unofficial by me and Helen Hughes). Here’s a bit of very fine guitar to send you away happy.

https://player.vimeo.com/video/683044321?h=3ccd97151c

Festival de Jerez 2022

FestivaldeJerez2022In 2020 I managed to get to the wonderful flamenco Festival de Jerez, two weeks before Spain locked down for the first time in the pandemic. Before vaccines, before masks, before all the mayhem and death. The UK locked down about three weeks later. In 2021 it was a low key, local affair, rescheduled to May and I missed it – the first time for over a decade – because travel was still difficult. Now Festival 2022 is up and running and I’m going.

There is so much to look forward to. There’s a new venue, the Palacio de Atalaya, which houses the poetically named Museum of Time. That’s a museum you really want to be in at midday when the massive clock collection (and there are some truly exquisite timepieces) chimes twelve. We’re seeing the fabulous Olga Pericet, a dancer who I have wanted to see for years but who we’ve always managed to miss,Museo-de-los-Relojes-Jerez-1 before heading off for gourmet tapas. Then to the Sala Compania, a 16th century church converted into a performance space, in the evening for Angel Rojas Dance Project, the Madrileno’s latest show. Sunday and it must be Miguel Linan, an old favourite, in the Teatro Villamarta with his latest show Pie de Hierro. Another of our favourites, Jerezano singer David Carpio, is appearing with Linan as an invited guest. I booked tickets in November, shortly after they were put on sale and the only ones available were up in the gods, which is where we are, but at least we got some.  Linan is becoming a noticias-nacionales_olgapericet-ojocriticosuperstar of the Festival and of flamenco in general and he regularly collaborates with Carpio, good news for both. Then on Monday to the Sala Compania again for a more intimate performance and the Malagan guitarist Daniel Casares. It’s with the guitar that we begin, in the same venue on Wednesday with Salvador Gutierrez.

There’ll be more besides; meeting up with old friends, convivial food and drink (given daytime temperatures of 22 degrees quite a lot of this might be done outside in the blossoming tree-lined squares of the old town). No Carnaval this year, either in Jerez or its more famous Carnaval cousin, Cadiz, as both events have been moved to June, mainly because of COVID. These are street events, drawing huge crowds so itjereztower makes sense to hold them when it’s hotter and the virus less pervasive, though it will be a strange experience, especially in Cadiz, where the Carnaval has been held in February for as long as I can remember. But that’s something else to look forward to later in the year.

The Festival has already begun and friends there tell me that the city is still relatively quiet. Usually the whole place resounds with music and crowds of flamenco lovers from around the world fill the bars and restaurants day and night (and the performance venues). This year might be a little different and maybe restaurant tables will be easier to come by. Every cloud…

I’ll be posting pics in my Insta account. For more on the Festival de Jerez go to The Story Bazaar website and use the Tag Festival de Jerez.

Neither ‘Opera’ nor an opera…

SPOprogramme… but the singing of songs. St Paul’s Opera, Clapham, presented the Big Birthday Bash last Friday and great fun was had by all, as much on stage as in the audience.

It was a cold and windy night, with temperatures forecast to be sub-zero, but the windows of the church were lined with candles casting a warm and welcoming glow. Once inside we took a programme, found ourselves an unoccupied pew and fortified ourselves with wine. The church began to fill, many of the faces familiar,  until there was a good audience, ready and waiting to enjoy themselves.

SPOTeresaOpera and classical favourites, mostly ‘big tunes’, formed the first half of the evening’s entertainment, followed by cabaret and show tunes in the second.  Two Australians, a Greek and a Latvian as well as those native to these British Isles formed the company for the evening, several prize-winners among them. The singers were current and former members of SPO, clad in their shiny best (and that was the baritone’s black satin suit).  A theme reflected in the audience by SPO super-fan Teresa, in her sparkly rainbow biker jacket. Puccini and Rossini formed the backbone of the first half, spiced with Lehar, Bizet, Leoncavallo and Strauss with one Mozart piece to add a touch of the sublime. It ended with Brindisi, the famous drinking song from La Traviata. Post interval ( more wine, that song was prophetic, and meeting yet more friends and neighbours ) there was Offenbach, Britten and Bernstein, plus Cole Porter, Rogers & Hammerstein and Sondheim.

SPOTriciaHighlights? There were many. Lyric tenor Martins Smaukstelis singing ‘Maria’ from West Side Story – ‘knocked it out the park’ said my American neighbour; the aforementioned Mozart ‘Soave sia il vento’ from Cosi fan Tutti sung by Tanya Hurst, Alexandra Dinwiddie and Louis Hurst and birthday girl and SPO co-founder Patricia Ninian singing ‘Glitter and be Gay’ from Candide.

The performers were clearly having as much fun up on the stage as the audience were in the pews and there was even a sing-along-chorus to the Hippopotamus song (‘Mud, mud, glorious mud’) lead by Louis Hurst.  A grand finale and then it was time to go home (although there was a birthday party afterwards). This concert-goer, although invited, had to leave.

For anyone interested Tricia Ninian will be speaking at the next Clapham Society meeting at OmnibusSPOFinale Theatre on 21st February about establishing this favourite local opera company from scratch. Unfortunately I’m unable to attend, but I will be going to the the Masterclass at St Paul’s by David Butt Philip (Sydney Opera, the NY Met and Wiener Stadtsoper) on 3rd March – tickets £10. He will also be performing a Gala concert with some friends, Lauren Fagan, Stephanie Wake-Edwards and David Shipley, all alumni of the Royal Opera’s Young Artist Programme. This takes place on Thursday 24th March, tickets £30. I imagine that all these events will be very popular, so buy early.

Meanwhile I’m heading south for more music, this time flamenco. The 25th Anniversary edition of the Festival de Jerez begins on Friday so that’s where I’m headed. I suspect I might blog about it.  See below for some earlier versions (including videos) on The Story Bazaar site.

2018 Festival Round Up                 Camerata Flamenco Project                     Lamento