Marjorie's ramblings

By walkingMarj

In London anything can happen

My plans for today changed unexpectedly.

Decided to mooch around the immediate area before going to Photo London. I am staying very close to St Bartholomew’s Hospital and I ventured through one of the entrances into the central courtyard. I found the church called The Less to distinguish it from St Bartholomew the Great, is the road.

Here I saw the programme for a free music festival on all weekend in and around the Barbican. Who knew? (Clearly not me!)

After a short visit to Charterhouse where concerts were in preparation, I waited for the start of a musical walk around Smithfield.

This took the form of an opera:

“In a new commission from the Barbican, These Wondering Stones follows the mysterious weaver of Cloth Fair, who spends her days weaving the fabric of the City of London’s rich history, every thread of every life bound together in a magnificent, shimmering, perfect tapestry. That is, until the impetuous Lettice accidentally rips a hole as long as the Thames itself, right through the tapestry’s heart. Lettice will need your help on an epic quest in this promenade opera, as she attempts to gather the stories of the Londoners whose lives she has torn apart.”

The singers were superb. They could all act. In my extra you see two of them plus the sound man who used a tablet to control the musical accompaniment. Very clever.

I nipped back to the hotel to let Arth rest and eventually set off for Photo London. it was extremely crowded and the tiny gallery spaces were quite claustrophobic. I did find Valda Bailey’s work which is printed on glass and quite exquisite.

Some of the work was pretentious as far as I was concerned and I found it hard to relate to, even when explained to me.....

I was deep in the basement amongst the rat poison when I made my blip!

Then I crossed the river to the South Bank. I saw the new production of Rutherford and Son at the National Theatre.

It was only the second night so perhaps not as smooth as it will become. I found it less than satisfying as a play. Rutherford is a self made glass manufacturer who has come up in the world. A widower, he rules his household and factory with an iron fist. There was really no back story to explain why he was like this, so his character was two dimensional. Also, despite references to the Tyne and singers giving a version of Bonny at Morn, the accents were not from Newcastle. It was hard to know where they were from.

I had a choice of four bus routes and was at the hotel in 15 minutes.

And so to bed. What an exciting place London can be for a visitor.

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