April 20th - Day 2

At lunchtime I walked up eight large stone steps and into the entrance of St Martin-In-The-Fields, the large, bright church that has overseen Trafalgar Square and before then the King's Mews from the square's north-east corner for nearly three hundred years. I stopped in front of two closed doors, one of which had a sign on it saying "Concert in progress - no entry".

I stood in the porch area and marvelled at how clear the music coming from the main part of the church was - how it managed to fill up every inch of this small adjacent place despite being performed a hundred yards away in a different room and on the other side of two large wooden doors, probably made of something thick and sturdy like oak. Then I noticed, perched above me on either side, two audio speakers.

I was allowed in during a break between pieces of music and sat on a pew about half way up the nave, near the sides. The audience was at least a hundred strong. Many of them were quite elderly and some were tourists. We listened to flautist Eimear McGeown play a selection of reels on traditional Irish flute before she was joined by pianist Aleksander Szram to perform a lovely, drifty short piece of music called "Home from the Storm" by David Heath. It was written in 1984, but wasn't orchestrated for a cd recording until 2003. As I leant back in my pew, gazed at St Martin's fine ceiling and watched the music swirl sleepily above me, I realised that unexpectedly stumbling across wonderful music played by renowned musicians was something I'd like to do more often.

The concert finished. The musicians left the altar, momentarily disappeared behind a side door, reappeared for an encore of applause and disappeared once again into the vestry, or something similar, where they probably worried if they could have played that note a little bit better. Then the audience also left. Apart from one man who was asleep in the furthest corner of the furthest pew. He wore khaki shorts and his legs sported large scabs. I went back in five minutes later and he was still asleep. I wondered at what time they usually kicked him out.


eimearmcgeown.com


2011 update. This May Elmear has been invited by the Queen, I think to perform, to a reception at Buckingham Palace for Young People in the Performing Arts.

April 23rd - Day 5

You'd have thought it would be quite easy to find a 100-strong choir at a train station - even one as vast as St Pancras International. But I couldn't find one anywhere. "1-2pm", Time Out said. "The Full English...St George's Day performance features a 100-strong choir on the main St Pancras concourse performing a new anthem for England, composed and conducted by Sam Dunkley". I'd stuck close to a promising looking concourse beyond one o'clock, keeping an eye out for one hundred stout men and women, and saw none.

But something anticipatory was in the air. Important looking decks of sound equipment were stacked near the top of escalators. Men with cameras (probably photographers) and men with film cameras lurked. Sound mics were attached to rails and partitions. Young women wearing strange dresses hung about in front of a large screen showing St George's day related snippets of film. There were even some musicians playing kind of rhythm musak on a loop, in an alcove opposite the champagne bar. A bloke and four kids (I was told they were the same family), three of whom had mohican haircuts - the young drummer cutting a particularly fine postcard punk figure.

And so I could have left, but I'd come here to find a hundred strong choir. And I found them hidden away right in a corner (I was sure I'd already looked there). They were a lot smaller than I'd expected, because they were children (from Morden School).

This, as it turned out, was the "gig": (from BBC website) "On 23 April 2009, people in Beds, Herts and Bucks will be able to take part in a unique production to mark St George's Day, as it makes its way from the Milton Keynes Theatre to St Pancras station in London. 'The Full English' will be performed by renowned theatre company Hoipolloi and is designed to be a celebration of all things English, from tea and crumpets to tennis rackets and cakes. Hoipolloi will start the production at the Milton Keynes Theatre, before boarding a double decker bus to Luton station where they will catch a specially decorated train to St Pancras, performing all the way! On arrival at St Pancras International Station, they will be greeted by a 100 strong choir on the concourse, singing a new anthem for England, composed and conducted by young English composer Sam Dunkley."

And that's what happened.

Sam Dunkley with the choir

2011 update - Having trouble finding out much about Sam Dunkley's subsequent music exploits. School still teaching children though.

2014 update - five years on - Sam's twitter describes him as a "freelance community musician with a penchant for singing projects".

http://www.bbc.co.uk/madeinengland/local_projects/fullenglish.shtml

April 29th - Day 11

Blasts of music and crowd-calling voices rolled around the pillars of Covent Garden Market like fog around trees - seemingly within ones grasp, but always a little further away from where one actually is.

After a short period of being enticed by the misleading sounds of acrobats with loud backing music, crowd-pulling magicians and diabolo-sellers, I found an enthusiastic string (and flute) quintet performing in the basin courtyard outside the Crusting Pipe wine bar. Above them people watched, leaning over the railings that lined the four sides of yard.

I went down the staircase, sat on a stone step and for half an hour was entertained by the familiar music of Mozart, Strauss, Bach, Offenbach and Europe. There was witty banter and some nifty dance moves that dangerously bordered on the gymnastic - the second violinist was nearly a faller at the Can-Can.

They were called Lotus (or was it Locus?). It was fortunate for them that they put on a good show, because, according to their flautist and spokeswoman, they were in fact playing for their supper - "we will wither away" - and would be doing so again at four o'clock.

2015 update. Lotus (it's not Locus) according to their website still seem to have a connection with The Crusting Pipe and are also available for weddings and corporate events!

http://www.lotusclassics.co.uk

May 5th - Day 17

In the subway underneath Westminster Bridge I saw two men wearing hats play Oasis and Rolling Stones with guitar, drumsticks and voice. The fourth bridge-related peformance out of seventeen. I have started to write a thesis on this phenomenon that I will post shortly. (That turned out to be a lie)

I'd crossed Westminster Bridge from Parliament Square where UK-based Tamils were demonstrating, urging the British government to act on behalf of Tamils in Sri Lanka.

To consider their chants of protest as a live musical experience felt wrong on two counts. Firstly it was questionable whether spoken chanting can be classified as music - had it been backed by drumming (as I momentarily thought it was, but it turned out to be music from a passing car) would it then have been music?

More importantly, though, to shoehorn these demonstrators as my "tick" for the day gave me the uncomfortable feeling that I was trivialising their serious cause.

May 6th - Day 18

“Being weary (I) turned into St Dunstan's Church, where I hear an able sermon from the minister of the place. And stood by a pretty, modest maid whom I did labour to take by the hand and the body, but she would not, but got further and further from me, and at last I could perceive her to take pins out of her pocket to prick me if I should touch her again; which seeing I did forbear, and was glad I did espy her design. And then I fell to gaze upon another pretty maid in a pew close to me and she on me; and I did go about to take her by the hand, which she suffered a little and then withdrew. So the sermon ended and the church broke up, and my amours ended also.”

So wrote Samuel Pepys in 1667. And in 2009, being knackered, I turned into St Dunstan's Church (now St Dunstan-In-The-West), where I hear an able lunchtime piano recital from Simon Callaghan. And I fell to gaze upon an elderly lady in a pew close to me, but she not on me for her eyes were closed and she smiled and slowly rocked her head to the music of Chopin.

May 7th - Day 19

I went to a bar stroke club on Shoreditch High Street called Last Days Of Decadence tonight to have another go at watching Mescal Circus (see Day 10). There were supposed to be first on, but they weren't, so I'll have to find them another time.

Instead I and twenty or thirty others politely stood and watched the fantastic Sunlight Service Group, who played music so up my street it was banging on my front door and screaming "I want to move in now!" through my letterbox.

I was only two years old when Pink Floyd first played at the trailblazing psychedelic club UFO, and I had more important things to do with my life, like not swallow marbles, than be bothered with the embryonic light and sound twiddlings of a future supergroup. But for a short few moments this evening, as SSG grooved through one particularly spaced out track that would have fitted cosily on Pink Floyd's first album, "The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn" - and despite no oil slide light show - I felt I had my own belated little UFO experience.

May 11th - Day 23

"Rawhide" sung by a boy who may have been called Colin in London E20.

May 13th - Day 25

Today I watched the back of Benjamin Horden's head in the Temple Church. In front of him was a very big organ. He is an organist. Organists - the rowers of the musical world. I took a photo, but it's rubbish, so here's a photo of Temple gargoyles. "Are you awake?....ARE YOU AWAKE?!"

May 14th - Day 26

Heartless Bastards at Pure Groove opposite Smithfield Market - the first recipients of my new business cards created to make me braver. I'd not heard of Pure Groove before, but think this will not be the last time I visit the place. They are, in their own words, "a record shop/gallery space in central London, hosting regular instore performances from the best bands in the world on our specially constructed stage, and serving a wide range of soft and alcoholic drinks". Neither had I heard of Heartless Bastards, though it could be the last time I see them for a while, not because they weren't any good - they were excellent and gave the thirty or so audience a rocking good lunchtime - but because they're from Cincinnati.

May 17th - Day 29

A trip to Wembley Stadium today to see Cambridge United take on Torquay United in a battle to secure a place in the Football League and surely, I thought, a shoe-in regarding songs and chants. Maybe the tension of the high-stakes situation got to the fans, but when, following their opening goal just after the half hour, the Torquay fans tormented their Cambridge counterparts with "You're not singing any more", so little attempts to burst into song had either fans made up to this point, it seemed to be delivered with a commendable sense of collective irony. By the way, according to Wikipedia, the words to "You're not singing any more." are "You're not singing, You're not singing, You're not singing any more, You're not sinnnngggginggg any more." Sung to the tune of "Bread of Heaven". The photo shows Cambridge United fans not singing any more.

May 27th - Day 39

Jeff Lang (and Grant Cummerford) at Green Note, Camden

June 11th - Day 54

Paul Jayasinha - lunchtime jazz in Victoria Embankment Gardens

June 10th - Day 53

The Fall and Buzzcocks at Kentish Town Forum

June 12th - Day 55

The Damned at The Shepherds Bush Empire, still fronted by Dave Vanian and Captain Sensible, neither of whom appear to have aged. I read recently that this is because The Captain is a vegetarian and Vanian is a vampire.

The Shepherds Bush Empire was built in 1903 and was originally a music hall. The first performers were the pre-Chaplin and Laurel Fred Karno Troupe. In 1953 the venue was bought by the BBC and became known as the BBC Television Theatre. Over the next 38 years programmes that were made there included Hancock's Half Hour, The Black and White Minstrel Show, Crackerjack, The Basil Brush Show, Wogan and (maybe the last time The Damned were here?) The Old Grey Whistle Test. Since 1991 it has solely been a music venue.

June 15th - Day 58

The Cedars, fine purveyors of Americana blues at Charlotte Street Blues. thecedarsonline.com

June 19th - Day 62

These guys making a big noise on the steps of St Paul's Cathedral are Bang On! - "an energetic junk percussion duo who use a huge homemade drum kit to provide funky beats and rhythmic treats" bangon.net. They were the concluding entertainment to the City of London Festival (colf.org) opening procession.

Daisy, my three-year old, found their beats and treats a little too noisy for her liking, so we didn't hang around for long. She told me she prefered Twinkle Twinkle Little Star sung quietly.

June 22nd - Day 65

I went to another old bandstand today, this time in Finsbury Circus Gardens. And more free jazz, this time provided by The Michael Janisch Quartet - bassist Mr Janisch accompanied by saxophone, drum and vibraphone - all here as part of this week's Jazz in the Garden. Approaching The Gardens from Moorgate the change in sound from city traffic to live jazz is sudden and welcoming. All seats were already taken so I sat on a wall at the back. Every minute or so I felt a vibrating sensation and it took me a couple of perplexed looks at my phone to realise that the vibrations were coming not from the inside of my trouser pocket but from the inside of the enormous tube tunnel a few feet below me. These train rumblings turned out to have ominous overtones - this is a beautiful part of the city so I was shocked to find out later that the Gardens, which have been here in some form since 1606, are going to be destroyed next year to make way for Crossrail. The intention is to rebuild them, but for about seven years they won't be here.

One more thing. Why does it always seem to be jazz that is served up free to lunchtime workers? I'd like to see some variation - free death metal in St Paul's Churchyard for example. And organ recitals in churches - so predictable. Some alternatives would be appreciated, something like Casio keyboard recitals in St Magnus the Martyr I think would be nice.

(Why have my photo pixels gone all big?)

June 23rd - Day 66 (evening)

There are 30 street pianos situtated in various public squares and parks, train stations and markets of London until July 13th. I was going through town this evening so thought a good bet for music would be the piano in Leicester Square. At first I thought that the mighty throng of people gathered around the north-west corner of the square were there for some other reason - a "standing in the north-west corner of Leicester Square and facing south-east" flash mob perhaps. But hidden in the midst of the crowd was a piano and piano player (and a guitarist and trombonist). These guys, playing boogie-woogie, Beatles and Stones, represented "Busking cancer", raising cash for Cancer Research UK. The pianos themselves come under the banner "Play me, I'm Yours" and are an artwork by artist Luke Jerram, presented for Sing London and The City of London Festival. And Sing London are a non-profit organisation set up to unite the city in song. Their site in turn led me back to the streetpianos site and the list of various events going on around various pianos, and with it the dilemma of whether I can allow myself more than one streetpiano experience. I notice, for example, that tomorrow the Camberwell piano will be surrounded by the Camberwell Complaints Chorus...

mojowellington.com

June 25th - Day 68

Judith Choi Castro (violin) and Lukas Kmit (viola) playing Mozart at Cadogan Hall......

June 26th - Day 69

When my nine-year old son Oliver woke up this morning, and I told him that Michael Jackson had died, he gasped and said, "Who's going to be the next King of Pop?!" I can't remember who he suggested now - I'll ask him later.

It wasn't immediately obvious that the happy and cheering crowd of people gathered at the bottom of The National Gallery steps in Trafalgar Square that evening, holding aloft mobile phones and cameras, were fans of the late King of Pop. Their focus of attention turned out to be a couple of guys trapped in their midst and performing Jackson dance moves to pass the time before they could get out again. The bass line of "Beat It!" could just about be heard above the whooping. This wasn't the only group of Michael Jackson fans in the Square - the whole top piazza in front of the Gallery was bustling with tribute-goers. I bumped into two friends of mine, Anna and Kim, who'd come along because they'd seen the impromptu event advertised on line. They were expecting to come across a little more than two blokes dancing to a tape recorder, though maybe things perked up later. Singing was frustratingly sporadic.................

more coming!