Arts reflections
Mentioned in Dispatches:
She walked into the theatre. Rigoletto was screening at the Rialto. Yaaaayy! Glass of bubbles in one hand, boyfriend in the other, she waved the glass at friends, called What are you doing here. Didn’t know you could even spell opera
. . . across the seats to a girlfriend, paused while she chose a seat, then sailed off to sit down, chatting as she went. Loved it! Next day, boyfriend told her about something called Cantata Vespers .
Where is it, she asked. It’s in the church on the hill, St Quarantine or something, he said, laughing. Wot? The final t in wot scarcely sounded she was so horrified. You mean go in a church, she croaked. He did, and went. She wouldn’t, and didn’t, and missed some of the best music he had ever heard he decided he would go next month as well. Next month looked rather good. OK. So it’s a church service, but the music makes up for anything else, because in March, on the 17th at 5pm, the Cantata Vespers will include Telemann’s Wer ist Der Dort, Von Edom Kommt? performed in the baroque style of the period in which Telemann was writing. Readings are from the historical King James Bible, famous for the quality of its language, the liturgy is around three hundred years old, and instead of the sermon, there is a cantata. On the 17th it is the Telemann work, sung by tenor Koli Jayatunge, with Katherine Orbell on baroque flute, and the Vox Baroque singers directed by Dr Rachael GriffithsHughes. Magnificent music comes out of a number of religious traditions. Well worth a visit, even if a church is not your first choice of venue.
Riverlea Theatre
Riverlea Theatre has been running for over 30 years, is home to Hamilton Playbox, Musikmakers (Hamilton), and Stagecraft, the so successful training venue for young thespians and meeting place for stagey kids (remember Bugsy Malone and The Witches?) and has just appointed new and dynamic chair – Nan Russell.
This year’s programme: Allegiance: Churchill Vs Collins April 7 – 21; High School Musical May 5 – 19; Peter Pan July 7 – 21; Catch Me If You Can August
11 – 25; Sblended Fairy Tales: Gang Show, September; Vicar of Dibley: The Second Coming October 13 – 27; Xmas
2018 November 17 – December 15
A Frivolity
Last night a group of consenting adults met in comparative secret. Their arcane rites revolved around discussion of various different wines each pair had brought to be tasted, talked about, and consigned to memory for the next time. Dinner included triple-cooked pork belly or confit of duck or whatever exotic dishes one might want to try out on others to win the title of chevalier de la table. Matching wine and food is a fashionable ritual even to the use of a vague wine bibber’s argot. Perhaps we should link music and food? The 1812 for example, for a spit roasted ox with a jeroboam of horseradish sauce and Yorkshire puds the size of my other friend’s head. Perhaps it would be wiser to start simply. Jazz with eggs, for example. Muskrat Ramble with wine would simply become Muscat Rumble, but with eggs would turn into Muskrat Scramble… a lovely creamy dish with a sprinkling of chives, barely set whites, yolks the colour of old gold giving a visual ambience to match the flavours, and music one would relish, even without wine.
Reviews What:
A Quarter Peal of 1260 St Clements Bob Triples
Who: 8 Bellringers
When: Sunday, February 25
Where: St Peter’s Cathedral Church Bell
Tower
Conductor: Frank Sluter Reviewer: Sam Edwards I know very little about campanology. I cannot easily identify patterns in the ding dong dingery dong sequences bellringers call changes. I could, however, sit myself down under an old oak, and be an audience of one. Today, eight campanologists, two from Wellington, five from Hamilton, and one from Melbourne, one for each individual bell, went up the St Peter’s bell tower, into the belfry where no bats fly, rang an unbroken quarter peal of 1260 changes which took three quarters of an hour, and came down well pleased. I listened. I could hear the tenor bell, the deepest of the eight, ringing at a predictable point on every eighth count. For a minute or more, I sat congratulating myself on such perspicacity. The tenor bell has such a wonderfully sonorous tone, such a clearly identifiable pitch, that I thought I had my aural keystone. Oh, oh. No. I realised suddenly that it seemed to have disappeared and there was an ongoing clangour of bells in the upper register. But the pleasure of such intent listening grew. At about thirty minutes, perhaps, I sensed a hesitation, a slight interruption in the regularity of the clapper fall, but if there was, the unevenness disappeared in moments, and the quarter peal continued until it ended in the final note, then complete silence. For the first time in my life I had focused on a complete example of extended ringing. It was a compelling, engaging experience, even for a campanological ignoramus. There will be more. I will be there. Maybe the listening audience will grow a little as people realise what a pleasure it turns out to be.