To the rose

A week or ago to Kingston, to see 'Don Carlos' at the Rose Theatre there. A play by Schiller, very loosely based on the life and times of the first-born son of the rather solemn & serious Phillip II of Spain, the chap who once married our Mary I and who went on to send the Armada to claim what he might have thought was his by right of marriage. Seen off by the suitably nonchalant, bowls playing pirate known to history as Francis Drake. This first son was more or less mad, but Schiller leaves out that side of things, concentrating more on national rights (of what is now mostly Belgium) in the face of overbearing suzerains. And, having declined the offer of 'Mary Stuart' last year, a first Schiller for us. We might have been put off on that occasion by the phrase 'a new adaptation by'.

To find that a good part of the road along the river that we use on the way from Surbiton has been given over to a two way cycle path, in the way of Farringdon Road, two way paths which I continue to find a bit unnerving when they are busy. On this occasion however, the cycle path was more or less empty and the cars were confined to what was left of the road.

Into the car park opposite the theatre (and next to the police station) where, rather to my surprise, I made it all the way to Green Nine without clipping the kerb to any of the ramps between floors. Must be a first.

Down to the bridge over the Hogsmill, to find plenty of fish there, all pointing up the Hogsmill, holding their position against the current with very little apparent effort and coming in two sizes, large and small. Maybe the small ones were this year's crop, who will attain full size next season. On the other hand, I read somewhere, not that long ago, that cod fish just carry on growing and growing. Something usually happens, so very large ones are unusual, but there is no particular upper limit. On which basis fish would not come, neatly, in just two sizes. Something with which to tax a fishy person next time I come across one such.

Into the theatre to find a reasonably full house, but with a rather pensioner outing flavour about it all, with just a few representatives from the chattering classes. One of whom chose to sit out front on a cushion - which I thought odd, given that I find sitting thus for hours most uncomfortable, if sustainable at all, that he was not a young man and did not look poor.

Quite an old production, said to date from 1995.

The set was rather dark and rather spare, but did involve upright chairs and a lot of serious lights on poles pointing at the chairs, unlit. Quite a lot of music. All a bit forced and pretentious to my mind.

The play started very fast, to the point where one had to really concentrate to hear what was being said. But it got better, with the second half having real power, mainly, to my mind in the form of the king, played by Darrell D'Silva, very much, for some reason, bringing Lear to mind. Maybe it was nothing more than playing, than being a forceful older man with white hair. While the programme (and the snap above) featured the heroic Marquis of Posa, rather than the prince who gave his name to the play. The three ladies entirely competent, but with smaller roles than the men.

A good outing. Let's hope the Rose don't stop doing this sort of thing.

Out, we for the first time in a while, decided to eat after play, and headed off for the 'Shy Horse' by Malden Rushett. A place which we like well enough, is convenient, but which we, nevertheless, do not seem to visit that often. With the last visit, just about a year ago, being noticed at reference 1. On the way, slightly disturbed by some lane changing antics in our vicinity. Presumably slightly tired young men hurrying back from work to something important. That said, commuter driver manners were generally very good, with plenty of give and take - only marred by a cyclist who declined to use the large cycle lane provided, preferring to more or less block our part of the road.

Shy Horse quiet when we got there, but it warmed up as our meal progressed.

From the 'Starters, Sharers & Grazers' (!) part of the menu I selected stone-baked flatbread to start, a foodies version of cheese on toast. Rather good. Then I went for slow-cooked pork belly, a dish for poverty stricken students and young marrieds in our day. Apart from the carrots, quite possibly prepared on the premises but which were not very warm, also rather good, if rather dear for what it was. Passed on dessert but took a drop of Jameson in the absence of Calvados - which our waitress had never heard of, but she did have the good sense to go and ask. The 2015 Sancerre - a type of wine which seems to be flooding onto the pub-grub scene - satisfactory. See reference 4.

The tipping arrangements were unusual, that is to say I had never heard of them. Tips were allocated to your server and each server had a tip profile which controlled their distribution. So much to me, to much to other front of house, so much to kitchen sort of thing, as was explained to me at the till by the pleasant young lady whom I took to be the manageress. No doubt all kinds of interesting analyses could be done if one had access to the profile file.

A good place. We shall no doubt be back at some point, although our track record suggests it may be some months.

PS: checking, I don't think it was just the adaptation word which put us off Mary. According to the rather florid language of TimeOut: 'Lust, pride, skulduggery: this riveting drama about Mary Queen of Scots and Elizabeth I is a fight to the death between two killer queens. And it’s stunning. On the night I saw it, Lia Williams was Elizabeth and Juliet Stevenson Mary. But they switch. Their roles are cast by a flipped coin at the start of each performance; the winner going on to keep her head; the loser losing it' and I now think that it was the random switching that put me off. It struck me as a gimmick which would not result in a better production.

Reference 1: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/11/festive-menu.html.

Reference 2: https://www.vintageinn.co.uk/restaurants/london/theshyhorsechessington.

Reference 3: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carlos,_Prince_of_Asturias. A bad pedigree, with enough inbreeding to make the Forest of Dean look respectable, compounded by various early life disasters. Should have been red-flagged by the social services at birth.

Reference 4: https://www.henribourgeois.com/en/vins/sancerre-blanc/. 'Subtle yet  powerful, its persistence and harmony find their origin in the exposition and quality of the terroir'. 'Perfect with belly pork'.