Capital Tales: Wonderful London II

Harry Parkinson and Frank Miller were two British filmmakers of the 1910s and 20s. Amongst the many films they made together were a series, in 1924, of just over 20 travelogues, each averaging around 10 minutes in length, based on a popular fortnightly magazine of the period called Wonderful London. The films focused largely on the lesser known areas of the capital: the parts neglected by your average visitor. Their historical value has become more significant in the ensuing years, as many of the locations they filmed have subsequently disappeared, leaving behind this rare footage of their existence. 

In 2011, the BFI compiled a selection of these films for show, gleaned from their National Archive, which was a sell-out, and so decided to repeat the success with another compilation on Friday, 15 February, at BFI Southbank with Capital Tales: Wonderful London II. Not having seen the original selection I thought I'd go along and sample the second offering. 

BFI Southbank was formerly known as the National Film Theatre and has been in existence at this location since 1957. The complex has three cinemas and a studio space: the cinema showing this programme was suitably large and very comfortable indeed. In fact the seats were just about the comfiest I've ever sat in to watch a film. 

The selection was introduced in person by Bryony Dixon, Silent Film Curator at the BFI National Archive, who set the scene with a brief history of the series. She explained that the shorts were not in any restored state and warned the audience to expect some 'scratching', jumps and shakiness due to the rough quality of the footage. 

Throughout the showing, the audience were also treated to live musical accompaniment from Stephen Horne, who was billed as pianist, but in fact played flute and accordion too, at the same time in some parts! Very talented. Seven shorts were screened in all, including some with subtitles, possibly written by someone who had a family connection to Dick Van Dyke, judging by the comical 'mockney' phrasing used, much to the general amusement of the audience. In one, a Cockney coster tries to encourage his moke (donkey) to travel to a number of famous London locations, when all the poor donkey wants to do is go home! In another, the driver of a horse-drawn carriage treats his passengers to a running commentary of the history of various places he drives them past. 

Titles shown included 'London's Outer Ring', 'Dickens' London', London Old and New', and 'London's Contrasts'. Some of the landmarks (no longer with us) that appeared in these shorts were the Crystal Palace near Sydenham Hill (destroyed by fire in 1936) and Jacob's Island in Bermondsey (an area immortalised in Dickens's novel 'Oliver Twist', but extensively bombed during the Second World War). 

After the film finished I decided I'd try a beer in the adjoining bar/cafe, called The Riverfront. A nice place, but one was enough (I was still feeling a bit delicate, trying to overcome a virus I'd recently acquired) and I left for the quieter and more relaxing surroundings of the member's bar in the Royal Festival Hall for one last drink before finally heading home.

Wonders of the Queuing System.

If an event is worth going to, then I always say it's worth making the effort. But even I thought I was pretty much on a loser trying to get in to this lecture - Making Britain the best place in the world to do science, the Michael Faraday Prize Lecture given by Professor Brian Cox earlier this evening at The Royal Society. I couldn't really get out of work any earlier to join the expected queue, and arrived around 10 minutes before the doors opened (at 5.00pm), to be greeted by the sight below:

I hope this shows you all my dedication to the cause! Of course, we were approached shortly after I took this video to be told we were too far down the line to be admitted, but the last people to be given a sticker to gain access were only around fifty yards ahead of me, so twenty minutes earlier and who knows? Without my work commitments, I'd have almost certainly got in. No matter. Onwards and upwards! At least I gave it a go. Incidentally, the video of the lecture doesn't seem to be up on their website yet. I know it streamed live but I don't know if they plan to post it for later viewing. 

Journal of a Georgian Gentleman

After seeing Rich Hall at the Soho Theatre the night before, it was off to hear all about a different Richard Hall (1729 - 1801), in a fascinating talk at the Museum of London, titled 'A Haberdashery Shop at One London Bridge: Journal of a Georgian Gentleman', which took place last Tuesday (12 February). 

The talk was given by Mike Rendell, Hall's great, great, great, great grandson and a retired lawyer. Hoarding has run in Mike's family for three hundred years and over that period they have amassed a collection of items that any history enthusiast would consider a treasure trove. Mike is now the custodian of much of this material. Amongst the many items in his possession (and the list appears endless) are diaries from the 1600s, newspapers announcing the death of Oliver Cromwell and the outbreak of the Great Fire in 1666 and shopping lists dating back to 1780! 

Richard Hall, as you've no doubt guessed, was the Georgian Gentleman in the title - a stocking maker and haberdasher - and to say he was a bit of an obsessive when it came to hoarding documents and other items, is an understatement. He also, from an early age, wrote a diary/journal, noting in detail the day to day activity of his life and his thoughts and observations about the world around him. I was particularly amused when Mike read out an extract which outlined how frequently he bathed (once every two months - "whether he needed one or not"!) and did his laundry (his records indicated  a "great wash" was done once every three months). Some modern day students will of course strongly identify with this. I jest.

Amongst my favourite anecdotes was one where, on two separate occasions in 1750, a month apart (8 February and 8 March), Hall noted in a separate booklet (which he entitled "Observables") that two earthquakes had been felt in London. The bishop of London was quick to identify the cause of both earthquakes - what else but pornography! The novel Fanny Hill (by John Cleland) had been published in 1748 and the bishop took the earthquakes to be a sign of Divine displeasure for this debauched piece of literature. Londoners deduced that the previous quakes were therefore a warning that the Big One was about to happen on 8 April and, on that day, chaos ensued as everyone tried to leave the city, causing mass gridlock! How sheepish they must have been on the way back to London the following day!

I was interested to learn that this lecture is actually linked to a book that Mike has written, 'Journal of a Georgian Gentleman: The Life and Times of Richard Hall, 1729 - 1801' which I'm now keen to pick up a copy of. I found a very good review of the book at the London Historians website, which you can read here. Mike also writes his own blog, on 18th century life, which apparently grew out of the research he did for writing the book. Definitely also worth a read.

One rather sad fact revealed to the audience in a question and answer session after the talk was that none of his children have any particular interest in maintaining the collection as a whole, so its future is uncertain. But for now, the collection is safely intact and I hope Mike finds a permanent home for it all. 

The talk was part of a series of Gresham College lectures, all free to attend, covering a wide range of subjects. Apart from one or two exceptions, no pre-booking is required, it's simply turn up as early as possible and hope to get a seat. The rest of their current programme is available on their website - you can find it here. The Museum of London hosts many of the lectures, but they are also held at other venues too.

My friend Jo was coincidentally at the talk that evening, having brought along a few friends from a group called London Historians (one of whom, Mike Paterson, the Director of LH, wrote the review mentioned above). Having made me aware of her presence, she invited me to join them all for a drink afterwards, which I duly did at the Lord Raglan, a pub just down the road from the museum. They were very nice company, from a diverse array of backgrounds, and it was lovely to meet them. 

Rich Hall's Hoedown

I've been trying to see Rich Hall live for some time now. He was billed, via the Londonist, to play a gig with a number of other stand-ups at a pub called The Phoenix in Cavendish Square last June (one of those 'work in progress' kind of gigs) that I subsequently went along to. The only other 'known' comic doing a spot that evening was Henning Wehn. I sat through nearly four hours of stand-up, all pretty good, but Rich didn't show and the audience weren't given any explanation for that. In fact, he wasn't even mentioned all evening. Henning Wehn rolled in towards 11.00pm and headed straight over to the bar. He was announced as the final act (after the one currently on stage) so I knew Rich was definitely not appearing, but would have had to leave anyway to make my last train. Needless to say, I was a bit miffed. 

Then, when these shows at the Soho Theatre were announced, I tried booking (no chance of a no-show here I thought!), but too late and the dates had sold out. Later still, via an email newsletter, I discovered more dates had been added due to demand and, this time, got in there quickly and finally managed to secure a ticket!

And so it was, I headed down to the Soho Theatre last Monday (11 February) to see him perform in Rich Hall's Hoedown. The theatre has three performance spaces, all quite intimate, situated on three floors of the building. This show took place in the space called Soho Downstairs, a large room with a stage at one end (to the right as you enter) and to your left a bar along one side of the room. The seating was made up of rows of plastic chairs, interspersed with small round tables that could seat around 5 each. The row I sat in was unfortunately occupied by one (or more) persons who perhaps had no concept of bodily hygiene, as a strong smell of underarm body odour wafted unpleasantly under my nose. I say possibly more than one because it was quite pungent and I wasn't sure if just one person could actually produce that strong an odour. For some strange (but not unwelcome) reason though, it seemed to diminish as the evening wore on. Eventually the rest of the audience settled in, the lights dimmed and the show began.

I'd already anticipated from the show's title the performance wasn't going to be pure stand-up and indeed that was the case. A PA announcement in Rich's distinctive gravelly tones heralded the arrival of his house band, consisting of guitar, banjo, bass, drums and keyboards, who all came out first to a warm round of applause and launched into a country-style number, ably sung by Kirsty Newton, who also played keyboards. Rich was then brought out to rapturous applause and launched into the set proper.

This was basically Rich Hall in musical/comedy mode, as he plowed through many numbers, playing either keyboards or guitar, all with comedy themes but many improvised on the spot, derived from audience suggestions. Examples of impro songs were one about Dundee(!) and 'The Ballad of Cath and Justin' (two audience members who Rich was attempting to instigate a marriage proposal between, even helping out by supplying Justin with a ring to give to Cath - sadly to no avail!), to name but two. A group of IT workmates were also on hand for Rich to target :
Rich: What do you do for a living?
IT guy: I work in IT
Rich: (Pause)
Rich: Do you have a girlfriend?
IT guy: No
Rich: (Pause)
Rich: I'm shocked

The house band were good fun too. Rich asks the banjo player "So, which part of the deep South do you come from?" The banjo player replies "Guildford". And even Kirsty Newton threw the audience when, after seeming to launch into another straight country song, ended up lyrically at the chorus with "You Ate Your Twin (In Your Mother's Womb)" and asked us all to join in!

Amongst the non-impro numbers Rich sang with the band were such gems as the rock'n'roll styled 'The Mosque Is Rockin'" and the romantic ballad "I'm Giving You My Love (From Behind)". He attempted to get the audience up dancing towards the end but only one person did, one of a group of girls he'd bantered with earlier in the show (and I'll come to them later). The show finally ended and the audience filtered out to make way for the next act at 9.30pm, a certain Mister David Baddiel.

Upstairs I went into the bar and milled around for a moment, deciding what to do. I'd had a few heavy nights recently and was quite tired and wondered if I should just head home and get some rest. But I was in post-show mood and the other half of me was saying 'go on, just have the one!'. It's very persuasive, that other half! So, I went to the bar and grabbed a beer.

While I was drinking, I noticed one or two of the performers on stage were slowly filtering into the room and had gathered together in a group to chat at one end of the bar. Eventually, most of them seemed to have come in, except Rich. He won't come into a packed public bar I thought. But then, as I glanced up, around half way through my pint, Rich suddenly walks in, dressed in his civvies and wearing a cap, and headed over to the group to join them. This of course prompted me to buy another beer and see if I might grab a chance of saying hello or having a picture taken.

Around an hour went by while Rich chatted to his friends and I saw an occasional fan muscle in to say hello, but I waited patiently for my opportunity. I realised of course he might have just upped and walked out all of a sudden, and then I'd have been stuffed, but at length most of his friends left the bar, saying their goodbyes, and Rich stayed. Here was my chance. He was at the bar and I'd finished my last beer, so I went up to get another and approached him. "Rich, great show!" I said and shook his hand. I was hoping to quickly follow through with a request for a photo, but was surprised when he launched straight into a conversation with me. I took the chance to offer him a beer. "No, that's fine thanks, I've got to go after this one anyway". So, I got my own beer and we continued chatting for a good while. We talked about the show, his career in general and how long he's lived over here, amongst other things. 

And that's how the conversation would have continued, but for two fangirls, who'd been at the show (one of them being the aforementioned dancer) and suddenly appeared from the shadows and butted into our conversation. That would have been fine normally, but they were both pissed as farts (for want of a better description), the 'dancer' not altogether very steady on her feet. At first, they thought I was a friend of Rich's, but lost interest in me conversationally when they realised I was just a plain ol' audience member. The 'dancer' kept draping herself over him, embarrassing herself in the process, and I eventually offered to take a picture of the two of them. She continued to drape herself in various drunken positions, me taking a snap each time, until Rich finally good-humouredly took her in hand and told her "come on, pose for a proper picture!" and she duly obliged (result below).

I then (perhaps stupidly) asked if one of them would take a picture of me and Rich, at which she snatched the camera out of my hand and began dancing around with it, pointing it at arm's length and snapping away several times. I thought "great, none of these are going to come out any good!" but when I reviewed them they actually didn't look too bad (although it was plainly a case of pure luck!), so I abandoned the idea of asking her friend to take a pic instead. I bought another beer and offered Rich again: "No, honestly, I'm fine.....actually, no, yeah, I will thanks...". Great! We were all getting rather merry (well, Rich and I were, the fangirls were well beyond that stage already!). When 'dancer' wasn't draped over Rich, she was draped over the bar, treating me and the others to a drink and generally wandering round in a drunken haze. Her friend was apparently equally drunk, but more coherent. She was also more conversational with Rich than her friend, but began asking him more personal questions, which I felt wasn't appropriate, but he was very pleasant and polite and, to my surprise, actually gave her answers. I'd have told her to mind her own business. She did sort of apologise at one point though, informing us "I'm drunk!". He replied "Hey, I'm drunk too!". Finally, at around 11.15pm, Rich finally said "look, I really do have to go now!" and headed off home. 

As I was finishing my last pint, I asked 'dancer' for her email address so I could send her the pics I took of her and Rich. She immediately balked and said "I'm not giving you my address!". "Hey, don't flatter yourself!" were words that hung from my lips, but never uttered. I briefly considered giving her friend my address and saying "Once you're both sober tomorrow, if you still want the pics, email me and I'll send them". Having considered that for all of about 2 seconds, I thought "To hell with it" (or words to that effect). I downed the last of my pint, said goodbye and headed for my last train. It had been a good evening. Rich was a gentleman and very charming and I got to chat with him for a whole hour and a quarter. What a nice guy and what a great way to end the evening!

The road to recovery.

I've been under the weather the last few days but have 2-3 blog posts waiting to go. Haven't been able to write them up properly yet but hopefully will be able to get at least one done over the weekend (or more if my recovery speeds up!). It hasn't stopped me going on my outings however (well, not yet anyway!), hence more stuff to write about, but it's wearing the hell out of me! I'm soldiering on though and will hopefully be back to my old self very soon . . .

Joint birthday drinks at The Craft Beer Co.

It was a double birthday celebration last Friday (8 February) as work mates Rick and Stephen invited myself and many other friends to their joint birthday bash at The Craft Beer Co, in Leather Lane. This relatively 'new' establishment, only at this location since July 2011, serves a great range of beers, some exclusive to these shores. Amongst the offerings I sampled was a very decent US style porter called Dark Knights and I was particularly enthused to discover they had a good selection of bottled beers from The Kernel brewery, a favourite of mine, who produce a wonderful pale ale and Indian porter. The bar staff were very helpful in recommending the various beers available. And, although I didn't indulge that night (but have in the past), they also do a mean pork pie and scotch egg!

A third person was also meant to be celebrating her birthday with the guys tonight, but sadly had fallen ill. Rick told me she was on the road to recovery though, which was good to hear. The evening overall went well (bar an inconsiderate group of people attempting to occupy 'reserved' tables without asking anyone, throwing our coats into heaps), with a good number turning out to wish both guys many happy returns, including a number of old faces (ex-work colleagues). And for Rick, although he may not want to be reminded, it was a 'milestone' birthday. I've had one or two of those myself. Unfortunately. But Rick still holds up well. I of course am beyond all hope.

They're a couple of decent blokes, good mates, and it's always great to hang out with them. Which one will have the biggest post-weekend hangover today I wonder? Was it a bacon sarnie on the way to work guys?

Underground: Lifting the Lid on London

If the Londonist are organising it, you know it's going to be good fun. And so it was with Underground: Lifting the Lid on London, a quiz themed around the London Underground and subterranean London in general, which took place last Thursday, 7 February, at the Bishopsgate Institute (near Liverpool Street) and was hosted by Matt Brown, editor of the Londonist website. It was my third underground themed outing so far this year. There have been many special events planned to celebrate and commemorate the 150th anniversary of the London Underground and there are plenty of others out there for those wanting to learn more. The ones I've been to have all been really interesting and I'll blog about those when time allows. 

I went along to the quiz tonight with Paul, Tess and Matt, 3 friends from work (Matt actually arrived half way through proceedings, due to another commitment). We've attended a Londonist quiz before (at Foyles Bookshop last year), which was Charles Dickens themed, and came second by just 1 point, so were quietly confident of doing well this evening. Paul, Tess and myself loosened up the old brain cells with a drink beforehand in Dirty Dicks, a watering hole just a stone's throw from the Institute. Not that my own brain cells needed much more in the way of loosening you understand. Like the rest of me. I digress. Once inside the venue, we passed into the Great Hall (where the quiz was taking place) and found a table. It wasn't long before we spied an area inside next to the entrance, selling wine, beer and soft drinks. So it was more 'brain food' before finally settling down.

The event turnout was excellent and had sold out in advance. There were 10 people on each table and on ours were a nice young couple, Ollie and Jade, who had come along on their own and were looking to join another team. We were happy to recruit them into our motley rabble, so we were now 6 strong (well, 5 until Matt turned up at the second half). Surely this meant we were in contention to have another crack at the first prize? All this knowledge in one place. It was potentially overwhelming.

Londonist Matt began with the questions and it soon became clear that they were probably just a teensy weensy bit harder than we were expecting. We bravely soldiered on. Then the interval arrived and we topped up the brain capacity with still more wine etc. But was it helping? Only time would tell. Then our 6th team member arrived (the other Matt) and we dived into the second round. We still hadn't decided on a team name and realised one was required before the quiz ended. Matt Brown had hinted he was quite fond of a bit of smutty humour and mildly encouraged the audience to consider that when coming up with their team names. It was Jade who eventually came forth with 'Going Down' - a great suggestion. But, in a moment of inspiration, I came back with "what about 'while you're down there'?" which seemed to delight everyone. It thus became our official team name. You see, it's inventiveness of that nature that has destined me for the world of blogging.

The last question was asked and papers swapped with other teams for marking. Half way through the process we slowly realised we probably weren't going to walk away with the first prize after all. Or even 15th prize. Ollie and Jade sadly had to dash off straight after the quiz finished (as did Tess) but Paul, Matt and myself headed back to Dirty Dicks, where Matt (Brown) had encouraged everyone at the quiz to pop along afterwards and join him for a drink. Matt had very kindly come over earlier in the evening to say hello and was happy to have a picture or two taken after the quiz for this blog post. A genial host, as always. Thank you Matt!

Over at Dirty Dicks I also met another nice person (and hopefully new friend!), in the shape of Joanna, who occasionally writes for the Londonist and is a Westminster tour guide. She has since given me some very useful advice about my own blog writing which has proved invaluable to a novice like myself. Her own blog and more information about her in general can be found here.

It was the mad dash for the last train as usual, but an enjoyable evening and I'm now looking forward to the next Londonist planned event. Later in the year I'm reliably told.

Caesar and Cleopatra - film screening.

It sounded the perfect set-up for a film buff/museum nut: the screening, earlier this evening, of the 1946 British film ‘Caesar and Cleopatra’ starring Claude Rains and Vivien Leigh, presented in the surroundings of The Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology. Advertised as a free event, I only just managed to acquire a ticket by the skin of my teeth. When booking, the Eventbrite website showed that only 3 tickets were available, but then my order crashed and when I refreshed the screen to start the process again it had dropped to just 1! Needless to say, I went on to successfully snap up that final place without any further mishap.

The museum itself is situated in an unassuming building located in Malet Place, a quiet little road not far from the main University College London premises in Malet Street. Once inside, up a small flight of stairs into the main reception and then beyond, it was relatively small, being basically made up of 2 or 3 gallery style rooms. The rooms were lined with glass display cabinets, each crammed with numerous Egyptian artefacts. The area designated for the screening was towards one end of the first main room entered. 6 rows of chairs had been laid out, with more scattered behind in various places. Glass display cabinets lined either side of the audience, which assisted in creating an extra element of atmosphere. When everyone was in, there were probably around 45-50 attendees occupying the available space. In the middle of the seating area was a small table, atop which was a compact looking laptop and a projector, all set up and ready to play the DVD of the film onto a pop-up screen placed at the far end of the gallery.

Modest little plastic cups of wine and soft drinks were laid out on a long table near the entrance for audience members to help themselves to. There was only a short amount of time, as everyone else slowly filtered in, to enjoy the hospitality and browse some of the museum collection, with most people seating themselves quite early on. When all ticket holders had arrived and settled into place, the evening could begin proper (albeit around 10-15 minutes later than advertised). We were initially introduced to a smartly dressed gentleman by the name of John J Johnston, who was described as an 'Egyptologist and film historian'. Mister Johnston then delivered a 20 minute or so talk on the background to the film, including interesting anecdotes about the cast and director and some insight into its writing and shooting. The lights were thereafter brought down and the film began.

The screenplay was written by George Bernard Shaw (or just plain Bernard Shaw, as per the actual film credits and Shaw’s own personal preference), adapted from his original stage play. And, despite a number of larger set pieces that appeared throughout, that was how the overall feel of the film came across, i.e. very stage-performance oriented. Personally, I found the acting style rather hammy and many of the lines of dialogue raised howls of laughter from the various audience members. In truth, the 20 minute talk beforehand by John J Johnston was more absorbing than what came afterwards, but it was nonetheless an interesting piece of film history.

When the film ended at around 9.00pm, I thought we were all going to be offered more drink and a chance to browse the museum in more detail, which I’d been looking forward to, but everyone immediately put their coats on and began to leave. That was a shame, as there were a lot of artefacts on show – around 8,000 I believe – part of the museum's entire collection of around 80,000, ranking it amongst the largest of its kind in the world. I’m sure I will return at some point and take the time to enjoy it. 

A brief note.

Just a brief note to all to say thank you for reading my first few blog offerings so far and to bear with me while I develop a decent writing style, which is a bit scrappy at the mo. I’ve intentionally avoided reading other blogger’s posts in order not to be too heavily influenced by other writing styles and wanted to see if I could write it like ‘me’. Having said that, I will, ultimately, make the effort to do some research, but I want to post a few more entries first. Do feel free to feed back and let me know what you like/dislike about anything. More past outings (and my first new one!) coming very soon. x

A past outing to see a Dickens' classic

As I’ve started this blog quite some way into my activities, and have now given a brief overview of some of the things I’ve been up to over the last 13 months, I thought I might revisit a few choice outings from that period, in between all the new stuff I’ll be doing, and tell you a bit more about them with a few (hopefully) amusing anecdotes thrown in….

Friday 28 December 2012 - A Christmas Carol with Simon Callow at The Arts Theatre

This inconspicuous little theatre is located in Great Newport Street off Charing Cross Road, just a short walk from Leicester Square tube station. You enter it via a tea room/bar, at the far end of which, on either side, are staircases leading down into the theatre space itself. It has quite an old feel to it, in the sense that the fixtures and fittings could probably do with a bit of an upgrade. However, the intimate surroundings were well suited to the type of show I was about to see.

I was seated in the front row, which at first seemed ideal, until I discovered how high the stage was in relation to the seating at that point and spent the entire afternoon (it was a matinee performance) with head bent backward, looking up at Simon Callow as he played out his part of the narrator/storyteller. Behind me sat a family outing, complete with mum, dad, uncle, kids etc (I worked this out through their conversation), all commenting, as they waited patiently for the show to begin, on the various versions of the Charles Dickens' classic they’d seen over the years:

“I’ve seen ‘em all you know”
“Yeah and me. What ones ‘ave you seen then?”
“Oh, I love that one wiv..whatsisname…Alexander Sims. That’s a great one that is.”
“I fink they showed that one wiv the bloke out of Star Trek on the telly the uvver day.”
“That’s Jean Luc Picard ain’t it? You know, Patrick somefink…”
(apologies by the way for my weak attempt at trying to invoke some characterisation in the above dialogue). This went on for a while and it soon transpired that this family were all in fact expecting to see a cast of actors, in full costume with stage sets etc. I considered turning round in my seat and telling them it was actually going to be just Simon Callow, with some simple (though atmospheric) effects, one basic set and a few chairs (I’d read this before attending). But I didn’t want to spoil their final few moments of anticipation before the curtain went up. That would have been a bit cruel.

At last the moment came and Simon Callow appeared. He was barely a few minutes into the act, when I became aware of something. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Mister Callow is a lovely man and I would consider it an honour to meet him and all, but at this performance he had this terrible, well, what would you call it…involuntary disposition(?)…to do something I can only describe as projectile spitting. I’m not talking a tiny bit of saliva here. No. Sometimes quite large gobs of spittle, flying out over the first few rows of the audience. The Spitting Image puppet of Roy Hattersley immediately sprang to mind. Now, we’ve all been guilty of this at some time or other – I know I have. A friend of mine, well known for his proclivity to do the same, once spat directly at me when we were out having a drink and the spray landed squarely on my tongue. I was faced with an awful dilemma: should I spit or swallow? I had to make a split-second decision. And I decided to go for the swallow. A sacrifice I’m sure many of us have made. But was history about to repeat itself I wondered? In the end, I needn’t have worried. Such was the projectile force of Mister Callow’s spittle it left the first row pretty much dry, but for those sitting in the second row or further back, an umbrella may well have come in handy. I even considered it might be a part of the character he was playing, a momentarily funny little quirk that was supposed to raise a giggle from the audience. But no, it continued throughout the next hour and 20 minutes. I even thought perhaps Mister Callow hadn’t eaten very much that day and was merely drooling at the thought of a lovely meal that evening after both shows were done.

As I pondered this, I was aware that one of the family behind me (from trying to position the location, I would have said the ‘dad’) had fallen asleep and his initially quiet snoring was slowly increasing in volume. His attention span had probably drifted off, due to the lack of stage sets and hi-tech effects I suppose. I had this image of him waking up during - or at the end of - the performance, with saliva dribbling off the end of his nose and in his hair.

I managed to make it through to the end of the show bone dry and, projectile spitting aside, thought it was an excellent piece of work. It was an abridged version of the book, apparently based on Charles Dickens’ own performing adaptation, but full credit to Simon Callow for such a feat of memory. The scene at Mr Fezziwigs’ impromptu Christmas celebration was particularly memorable, with Callow dancing around the stage like an overgrown schoolboy. He has done this one man version of the story before at The Arts Theatre, sell-outs on both occasions, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see him back at the end of this year too. Recommended, especially for those who love Dickens.

A busy year!

Thanks for commenting Bryan! A taste of what I've been up to over the last 13 months? Blimey, where on earth do I begin?? Yes, it’s been a busy 2012/13 for sure. To keep it 'short', this can basically only amount to a random list of activities so, let’s see…well, there were lots of shows and concerts..(deep breath..): Spacetacular! at the Roxy Bar and Screen (last year) and Leicester Square Theatre (this year); Frank Skinner and Friends at the Noel Coward Theatre; Pajama Men at the Charing Cross Theatre; The Umbilical Brothers at Queen Elizabeth Hall; The Great Puppet Horn at the Little Angel Theatre; Professor Vanessa’s Wondershow and Fuerzabruta (both at The Roundhouse); Fitzrovia Radio Hour at the Horse Hospital; Cymbeline (in Juba Arabic!) and As You Like It (both at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre); Donka at Queen Elizabeth Hall; Valentina Lisitsa, Regina Spektor and George Benson (all at the Royal Albert Hall); Venus and Adonis at The Rose Theatre; London Philharmonic Orchestra at The Royal Festival Hall; BBC Symphony Orchestra at Queen Elizabeth Hall; Cantina at Southbank Centre Priceless London Wonderground; The 39 Steps at the Criterion Theatre; Abigail’s Party at the Wyndham’s Theatre; Nosferatu at The Barbican; The Divine Comedy at The Royal Festival Hall; Bill Bailey at The Hammersmith Apollo; Alan Davies and Jimmy Carr (both at The Assembly Hall Theatre); A Christmas Carol with Simon Callow at The Arts Theatre…..

Some quirkier stuff included The World Record Hug Attempt at St Pancras International Station; a tour of the House of Lords (and House of Commons); Twilight tour at Apsley House, Hyde Park Corner; discovering Wilton’s Music Hall and visiting several times during the year (gin tasting; parlour magic; Kreutzer Quartet; The Horror! The Horror! and more..); a Victorian Magic Lantern Show at Hendrick’s Academy of Modern Knowledge;  Barbara Windsor in conversation at The Cinema Museum; Austentatious (comedy impro team); Singalong Oliver! at the Royal Festival Hall; Autopsy: The Final Operation at The Old Operating Theatre; ZSL London Zoo Lates; speedboat ride along the Thames; The Lost Lectures (various locations); Skeptics in the Pub at The Monarch, Camden; Boeing 737 Flight Simulator Experience; Jack the Ripper walk; Talking to Strangers event; Hinthunt (can you get out of a locked room within an hour?); Heiner Goebbels: Stifter’s Dinge at Ambika P3; Floatworks (relax in a floatation tank!); BBC Television Centre tour; Ice skating at the Natural History Museum; Stargazing Live at Regent’s Park; The Architects at The Biscuit Factory….

Some live TV and radio recordings too; Rufus Hound’s My Teenage Diaries, QI and Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?

And I even got to meet some celebs along the way (all very nice folk) including Matt Brown (of Londonist website fame), Barbara Windsor, Ben Miller, Tommy Walsh (of Ground Force fame), Alan Davies and J.K.Rowling!

The above list is by no means all, but you get the picture (I hope). So, going forward, I should have lots of outings to write about, as you can see!

"What is a blog?"

I asked the above question recently when a friend jokingly suggested I start my own one. For the last 12-13 months I've been posting lots of activity to my Facebook profile. I'm very socially active and, over the aforementioned period, have been experiencing London life like never before. A new lease of life you might say.

Born and bred in the capital, but not really taking advantage of all that it has to offer - until recently. Well, that's the basis for starting this blog. For anyone following my progress, feel free to chip in and comment. I would very much welcome suggestions about new things I may not have come across before. Or why not follow my example and get yourself out into this amazing capital city? There is lots to do and see, but it does require a bit of effort in terms of researching what's actually out there. 

I hope you'll get involved and share the experience. And no doubt I will also occasionally throw in the odd viewpoint about the many different aspects of life that one comes across, in the news, media and elsewhere. On which note, I do want to make clear, right from the outset, any such views will be purely my own. 

Well, that's the boring bit done - my journey continues apace. Or next week, to be more precise . . . Now, let's see if I can get the hang of this blogging lark . . .