History, Music and Friendship
I spent the day with two lovely ladies from my class – delightful individuals with whom I’ve not really hung out with for some time. How awful. Thus it’s always good to catch up with them, and part of me feels the tension of time ticking, with my tenure in London destined inexorably to end very soon...
So she stays Potters Bar in Hertfordshire, which is located just outside London’s M25 orbital, and thus I suggested meeting up at nearby St Albans, an ancient town with Roman origins, for tea and more. I was always happy to get out of London, even if peripherally.
After the dreadful morning storms had cleared, I boarded a creaking First Capital Connect train and pulled into St Albans station, with bright skies and a warm hug greeting me. Traipsing into town, we fortified our stomachs, before checking out the first sight on offer – the Parish Church of St Peter.
A short walk away, I came upon St Albans’ main attraction - its spectacular cathedral. I’ve written before about my interest in old English cathedrals, and the one at St Albans was certainly no let down. This is an outstanding example of medieval architecture, with a very long nave, and even some recognizably Norman features.
We ended our tour of the town with a stop for sustenance at Ye Olde Fighting Cocks, believed to be England’s oldest surviving pub, with an extant 11th Century structure. The ancient woodwork inside reeks of hundreds of years of historical boozing. I said to her that oldest man-made edifice in Singapore dates back probably to only the 1820s and 1830s. Here, in Europe, you get to walk around with the ghosts of generations past surrounding you everywhere.
I headed back to London and rushed straight to the Barbican Arts Centre, where I linked up with my other friend and popped into the concert hall with barely seconds to go before the performance started. I attended her birthday celebrations last Saturday, and thought it might be nice to bring her out for some lovely music.
Although I’ve never been to the Barbican, I remembered her telling me of her fondness for the venue, and with the Manchester Camerata – which hails from her hometown – performing this evening, it promised to be a wonderful evening out.
The Barbican is a large combined arts complex, featuring not only music, but also film, drama, exhibitions and talks. But I know of it not only because of this aspect, but also because it’s regularly been described as among the UK’s ugliest buildings. Opened in the early 1980s, I could be charitable and perhaps term it as best as a concrete monstrosity.
Which is a shame, because the interior was pretty decent. Sure, it wasn’t as resplendent as the Royal Albert Hall, but it was functional and modern. The Barbican Hall, where musical performances are staged, was smaller than I expected, engendering an intimate seminar atmosphere.
What about the music? We were on hand for a concert in the currently Mostly Mozart series, and tonight’s menu reflected this theme. We started with a weird modernist work by Stravinsky – his Concerto in D – before proceeding to enjoy Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 4, his Piano Concerto No. 21, and his famous Symphony No. 41, the Jupiter, with its stirring and unforgettable finale.
We ended the evening by sauntering to nearby Moorgate, where we enjoyed a drink at the Red Lion. I can’t think of a more archetypal name for a British pub. Surely there must be dozens of Red Lions out there? She tells me as well that she's likely to spend the next month working on the dissertation while being camped out in Spain. How idyllic. As for me, I'll continue my own encampment in London, with so much more to see, experience, and eat.
So she stays Potters Bar in Hertfordshire, which is located just outside London’s M25 orbital, and thus I suggested meeting up at nearby St Albans, an ancient town with Roman origins, for tea and more. I was always happy to get out of London, even if peripherally.
After the dreadful morning storms had cleared, I boarded a creaking First Capital Connect train and pulled into St Albans station, with bright skies and a warm hug greeting me. Traipsing into town, we fortified our stomachs, before checking out the first sight on offer – the Parish Church of St Peter.
A short walk away, I came upon St Albans’ main attraction - its spectacular cathedral. I’ve written before about my interest in old English cathedrals, and the one at St Albans was certainly no let down. This is an outstanding example of medieval architecture, with a very long nave, and even some recognizably Norman features.
We ended our tour of the town with a stop for sustenance at Ye Olde Fighting Cocks, believed to be England’s oldest surviving pub, with an extant 11th Century structure. The ancient woodwork inside reeks of hundreds of years of historical boozing. I said to her that oldest man-made edifice in Singapore dates back probably to only the 1820s and 1830s. Here, in Europe, you get to walk around with the ghosts of generations past surrounding you everywhere.
I headed back to London and rushed straight to the Barbican Arts Centre, where I linked up with my other friend and popped into the concert hall with barely seconds to go before the performance started. I attended her birthday celebrations last Saturday, and thought it might be nice to bring her out for some lovely music.
Although I’ve never been to the Barbican, I remembered her telling me of her fondness for the venue, and with the Manchester Camerata – which hails from her hometown – performing this evening, it promised to be a wonderful evening out.
The Barbican is a large combined arts complex, featuring not only music, but also film, drama, exhibitions and talks. But I know of it not only because of this aspect, but also because it’s regularly been described as among the UK’s ugliest buildings. Opened in the early 1980s, I could be charitable and perhaps term it as best as a concrete monstrosity.
Which is a shame, because the interior was pretty decent. Sure, it wasn’t as resplendent as the Royal Albert Hall, but it was functional and modern. The Barbican Hall, where musical performances are staged, was smaller than I expected, engendering an intimate seminar atmosphere.
What about the music? We were on hand for a concert in the currently Mostly Mozart series, and tonight’s menu reflected this theme. We started with a weird modernist work by Stravinsky – his Concerto in D – before proceeding to enjoy Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 4, his Piano Concerto No. 21, and his famous Symphony No. 41, the Jupiter, with its stirring and unforgettable finale.
We ended the evening by sauntering to nearby Moorgate, where we enjoyed a drink at the Red Lion. I can’t think of a more archetypal name for a British pub. Surely there must be dozens of Red Lions out there? She tells me as well that she's likely to spend the next month working on the dissertation while being camped out in Spain. How idyllic. As for me, I'll continue my own encampment in London, with so much more to see, experience, and eat.
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