To the throbbing heart of North London

That is to say a visit to Kings Place up York Way. What used to be a rather poor and squalid area, now packed to the gun'lls with busy young people rushing about and doing the latest thing. Whatever that might be.

The occasion being what is called a Beethoven Late, a short concert given by the Brodsky Quartet, starting at the early hour of 1830 and featuring a late string quartet, Op.127. Introduced by a piece by Karen Tanaka called 'At the grave of Beethoven'.

A mild, damp evening when we set off from Epsom. Being with BH and there not really being enough time, I had to pass on a Wilko trolley in Station Approach, marking it down for another occasion. By which time, as it happened, the facts on the ground had changed. Someone else must be at it. See reference 2.

Arrived at the station to find that trains to the south had been disturbed by another landslip, that to the north having been dealt with. Luckily we were headed north on this occasion.

Quite taken with what seemed like the huge number of people rushing around the precinct to the north of Kings Cross station. What on earth were they all doing? Have we got to the point where more than half the population is working in offices, spinning work out of the aether, while the other half actually do stuff? Like building houses and brewing beer.

We worried about the cranes, some of which seemed to be very close together, snapped above. I hope they don't put their trust in banksmen and have installed proper anti-collision software. Perhaps such stuff is mandatory these days. I also seem to remember being told that building workers are no longer allowed to drink at lunchtime - something which was common enough when I was one  - perhaps for this very reason. No falling asleep on the crane. No exhibitionism with the extended jib.

Quite taken, once again, with the smart, new space - Kings Place - contrived in the lower regions of the new Guardian Building. It may not have the history and atmosphere of Wigmore Hall, but it does have the facilities. Including a café where we opted for an enormous tuna sandwich for a fiver or so, a six inch length of a pain (the proper name for a fat baguette?) , sold conveniently cut into two for sharing between two. Must be getting old, as I could not have managed the whole thing.

The older lady across the table from us was reading a heritage Penguin paperback, the sort of thing that I remember from my adolescence. Which sparked a quick peek through Bing, resulting in the nostalgia snap above. First left, was a book owned by my mother, which I don't think I ever read, although I did try a couple of times. Second, was a book of my own, read several times during my Hornblower & Forester phase. Third, the nearest I could find to the book in question, with fourth not being quite right at all.

Onto the hall which was more or less full, maybe half people of working age, no children that we saw. A relaxed quartet who stood to play to real music - except the cello that is, who was provided with a little dais to get her head to the same level as that of the others.

Tanaka had turned out to hear this performance of her work, commissioned by the quartet some years ago now. So not a world première or anything like that, but I don't suppose it sees the light of day that often and she did take her bow.

I thought the Beethoven a little patchy, not quite as smooth as I like it, but generally good.

Cello 18th century Irish, by Perry of Dublin. A first for me. Violin 1 and viola, 18th century Italian. Violin 2 early 17th century Italian, of reference 5. More than half a century earlier than a Stradivarius.

Decided against eating in and headed across the road, back into the precinct. Passed one rather flashy looking blonde climbing out of a taxi with her gentlemen. Passed up on the various bars and restaurants on offer, which all looked too busy and too noisy for our mood, opting instead to head for home. Including here both Vinotec which we did know and the German Gymnasium (of reference 4, possibly in somewhere called the coal yard) which we didn't. Maybe another time.

Amused to find a scaffolding gantry over the start of the escalators in the otherwise flashy new entrance to the tube station. Followed by unpleasantly loud buskers. Followed by offer of seat on the tube from another blonde. Declined, to amuse myself by peering closely at the moving light indicator board above the seats. Intrigued by the halos to right and left of lights that were on, visible at six inches, invisible at twenty four. The result of lights not turning off and on quite instantaneously? Do the bulbs have special filaments to address this problem?

A snap from the glory days of Middlesborough. See reference 3 below.

Reference 1: https://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.com/search?q=brodsky. We had previously heard this quartet, more than a decade ago, at Dorking Halls.

Reference 2: http://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/01/trolley-368.html.

Reference 3: https://www.brodskyquartet.co.uk/group-history. With roots in the far north of Middlesborough. With musicians who must be very much of our own age.

Reference 4: https://www.germangymnasium.com/.

Reference 5: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giovanni_Paolo_Maggini. Which suggests that you can pay a great deal for one.