Two B's and two D's

I have often wondered why there are so many classical composers whose surnames start with a B. But last week, it was a concert involving two B's (Beethoven (Op.9 No.2) and Brahms (Op.25)) and two D's (Debussy (Première Rhapsodie) and Dean (Seven Signals)).

Off to a slow start at Epsom Station, where the ticket clerk was nearly unable to extract two travelcards (senior variety) from his newly upgraded computer, the travelcards only emerging as I got stuck into one of the self-service machines. We also noticed that his window was covered with pock marks, perhaps what you would get if the window caught some pellets from a shot gun, but the clerk assured us that it was just natural cracking. Odd that I had not noticed it before.

The big red crane was still at Vauxhall, the sort of thing snapped at reference 3, plus his little brother. Once again marked down for snapping on the way home.

A mild summer time evening, so we were able to take our picnic inside Cavendish Square again, rather than at the north western corner, by the motorcycle stand. During which we were entertained by a rather small but very tame starling who wanted to share, despite being occasionally chased off by an aggressive blackbird. It could sometimes pull off the tick of catching a bit of crumb in mid-air, before it hit the ground. A trick we had last seen performed, rather spectacularly, with chaffinches in Stoke Woods, near Exeter, with bits of digestive biscuit.

The flower displays involved some green carnations, the result of floral rather than horticultural art.

For once in a while, the audience was a bit thin, with the downstairs maybe half full. Had the regular punters been put off by the British Première (of the work by Dean).

A good programme as it turned out, and we even found the work by Dean, loosely based on the distress signals sent out by the sinking Titanic interesting, although I was more or less unaware of the connection at the time of listening. The first time that I have heard a spot of pizzicato from a piano, which involved the pianist standing up and reaching down inside the innards. Some interesting sounds from some of the other instruments too. It was the third performance of the work in around a week - Lincoln Centre, New York;  Aarhus, Denmark; Wigmore Hall, UK - all three graced by the presence of the composer himself.

Brahms' piano quartet did not pack quite its usual punch, but good all the same. Another case of a favourite work sometimes really coming off, and sometimes not quite. Must be hearing it around once a year, since having heard it first, in an orchestral version, back in 2013 and noticed at reference 6.

The violist was good, but we found her size and the size of the tattoos on her forearms a little distracting.

A gross young man on the tube back to Vauxhall. Not a big chap but of an age to want to take up a lot of space while eating his supper in a rather loud way.

Forgot about the crane, again. Probably the last opportunity to snap it gone.

A pause at Wimbledon, where the best I could manage in the way of aeroplanes was one going down to City Airport. No points.

Reference 1: https://www.yuralee.com/. No tattoos to be seen here, so perhaps the ones we saw were stick-ons.

Reference 2: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/04/chamber-music-society.html. The last outing for the society, just about a year ago. Very similar programme as it happens.

Reference 3: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/09/big-crane.html.

Reference 4: https://www.forestryengland.uk/stoke-woods. A website which is not in the heritage league at all.

Reference 5: https://musikhusetaarhus.dk/. A hall which appears to work much like our own Southbank Centre.

Reference 6: https://psmv2.blogspot.com/2013/04/adaptations.html.