(Second Half of) Summer 2019

To say that it has been full would be an understatement. And where to begin? I am thinking to organize essentially by dinners, lunches, breakfast (only one), coffees, museums, cinema, theatre, music, health, pagan events, mixers, and an etc. that concludes with the party. Since when I wrote the present update, I did not see the previous one for June and July 2019 – it did not upload into my obsolete version of Dreamweaver, so some of what follows is a repeat (e.g., Rocketman, Late Night, Gloria Bell, Yesteryear, Starry Messenger, Bitter Wheat, Light in the Piazza, the Nonsuch, Paula Murrihy (and it was Traetta instead of Tomasi), lunches and dinners, Stratford, the 4th of July, and Amsterdam). But for our brief stay in Paris when returning from Aups to London, we had a most delightful dinner at Popine (delicious pizza) with Maire-Laure and Robin. And then almost immediately after reaching England, it was off to Stratford-upon-Avon for Vivianne and Chris’ 40th wedding anniversary celebration. We stayed at the Alveston Manor Hotel and enjoyed seeing Leslie, Caroline, Melissa & Rufus, Hildegard, Ronald Hutton, John Macintyre and Prudence Jones among others. It was a moving and most enjoyable occasion. And it allowed us a breakfast with our darling Meg.

Consequently, what follows is the full summer of 2019 and not just half of it. And the day that I am posting this (28 September 2019) – or at least hoping to – Natacha has written to say that her mother "flew away at 2:45 this morning." It has been not an easy exit for Barbara for the past several months. It will now be difficult for Richard and me to think of life without her. We have had a long and meaningful relationship. But if Barbara is now at peace and beyond pain and discomfort, I am at least happy for that.

So the dinners successively apart for three 5:2 meals with Gin at home and four meals with Chloe & Matt (at Ella Canta, at home, at Parson’s and at Indigo) have been with Penny and Caroline at Sheekey’s, with Paul & Darryl at Kricket Soho, with Sarah and Clara at the Club, at Annie’s with Gin in Aldeburgh, with Gin and Rix at the Lighthouse in Aldeburgh, with Maggie at the Club, with Maggie and Chris at Mezcalita Chelsea, with James & Eamonn at Caraffini, with Sarah and Clara at Cantina Azteca, with Vicky, Santima, Jim and Amir at Tomo Sushi in Amsterdam, with just ourselves at the Cantina Azteca for the Vinalia, with Woody at Adam Chandler’s (Cadogan Hotel finally reopened; this was where Oscar Wilde was arrested), with Darby & Stephen at their new/old place, with Kat (Roger’s daughter) & Kyle at the Sloane Restaurant and Bar, at Gillie’s in Little Compton with John, Jill and Lynn, with Gillie at The Fox, with Rix & Sylvester at Celeste in the Lanesborough Hotel, and with Elisabeth and Monica at the Phoenix Palace. And our lunches have been, again successively, with Francis at Romulo Café (delicious Philippine cuisine on Kensington High Street), with Elisabeth and Monica at Orasay, with Maggie and Chris at the Tate Modern (all of us having the Olafur Eliasson Kitchen vegetarian menu), with Ashok at the Braebourne Room (ROSL), with Elisabeth and Monica at the Goldmine Restaurant (tasty Chinese) in Bayswater, with Tom & Doc at the Adam Chandler, with James and Eamonn at Seafood Containers near Blackfriars Bridge, South Bank, and with Steven & Hilary at Tate Modern.

There was also the 4th of July dinner celebration at the Sloane Club. Richard and I had Tom Collins. At the bash, there was Abi, Rachel, Matt, Rosemary and at our table Harry (head of Reception), Helen (press?) & her 24 year old friend, Padma & Andrea (Czech) at our table. We kind of shattered our nefastus abstinence, but we considered that we were celebrating the Poplifugia Eve.

We have had coffee with Padma at the Sloane Restaurant and Bar and with  Graham Jeffrey at the Sloane Club. It was our first time with Graham since Nel’s passing. And we have a tea at Elisabeth’s with Paddy & Keir – our first time in seeing the lads in a good twenty years. Then at the Club there have been three mixers – on the 12th of June (Abi, Matt, Tara and Angele from New Orleans), the 14th of August (Rosemary, Yuri – from Ukraine and the new liquor chief, Padma, and Pam & Richard who have a place in Tourtour), and the 11th of September (Padma, Rosemary, Harry, Abi and Brian from Newcastle who, refreshingly, shares the same political views as mine.)

Museum visits included the Somerset House for “Get Up, Stand Up Now” on Black creativity in Britain. Interesting; I liked the music best. This was on the Poplifugia. And on the same day we went to the October House for the Brion Gysin works. Twelve days later, at the Tate Modern we enjoyed both the Olafur Eliasson “In Real Life” exhibition (intriguing and hyper-modern) and the exhibition on the Russian artist Natalia Goncharova (fascinating and for me previously unknown). We went again to the Eliasson at the end of August. With Maggie and Chris, we went to the Army Museum in Chelsea. And for the Kalends of August, Richard and I got to the Royal Academy of Art for its annual Summer Exhibition which, as usual, was an overwhelming inundation. A week or so later, it was the manga exhibition at the British Museum which was also overwhelming. Next, it was the Tate Britain for the “Van Gogh and Britain.” Almost miraculously, it turned out to be the last day. As it was also a Sunday, it was most crowded but still for me immensely moving. Early in September at the Saatchi, we were able to enjoy “Beyond the Road: Journeys in Sound and Space” – an immersion experience. And finally, we went to the Museum of London for the “Secret Rivers of London” tour, but we were at the wrong venue, and after a taxi, crossing the Thames twice and much, much walking before finally finding the Tower Millennium Pier, we missed the boat.

Music has been a much fun “Jazz, Swing and Modern Classics” concert in St. Martins-in-the-Fields by the Nonsuch Singers that featured Will Todd’s Mass in Blue. There was also another Paula Murrihy last-minute fill-in concert, this time at the Wigmore Hall. We went with Gin and Sylvester. David Bates conducted La Nuova Musica. There were works by Mozart and Haydn, and Paula sang Gluck and Tommaso Traetta (someone she said she had never even heard of before). As expected, she was simply terrific, and we had drinks together afterwards. And then also we went to the Royal Albert Hall for, first, the Space Spectacular (not a favourite but still enjoyable with Holst’s ‘Mars’ and ‘Jupiter’ being the best moments) and, second, for Tony Bennett. The Tony Bennett Quartet did an opening number, and then a female vocalist did three pieces. An intermission was then announced. This lasted at least 30 minutes if not longer, and we worried, but finally the man himself appeared. He’s 92 and his coat buttons were in the wrong buttonholes. The audience was utterly rapturous – standing ovations and all. He was excellent, and we all teared up when he sang “I Left My Heart.” All four music occasions occurred in the month of June.

Our films have been Rocketman which is an excellent production; Late Night with a superlative Emma Thompsen; Gloria Bell (with me finding the slow tempo’d and highly detailed film more enjoyable than did Richard, but with Julianne Moore being excellent); Yesteryear which Annie, as I said in the previous update, had accurately described ahead as not a good film but one to be seen; Almodovar’s Pain and Glory (a complete masterpiece with Banderas the best ever and the very last screen shot with Cruz being perfect); Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (not particularly enjoyable apart for the surprise ending, with both Pitt and DiCaprio being especially good, and in the days that followed the mind continually going back to the film); Olivier Assayas’ Non-Fiction (some was difficult – including handheld camera moments, but overall we both adored the Frenchness and the acting – especially Juliette Binoche and Nora Hamzawi); and Joanna Hogg’s The Souvenir (very strange, very slow; some was quite fine but much was also tedious, but at least Tilda Swinton is always a complete thrill to watch).

And finally theatre. The Starry Messenger at the Wyndham Theatre with Matthew Broderick was excellent as well as nostalgic – bringing back to memory the old Planetarium in New York I knew from childhood. Bitter Wheat at the Garrick was a different kettle of fish. I was not enthused about the first act; enjoyed the second better; and of course John Malkovich was excellent. Our take was that Mamet has produced a defence for Harvey Weinstein. Craig Lucas and Adam Guettel’s The Light in the Piazza at the Royal Festival Hall with Renee Fleming, Dove Cameron and the entire cast who in fact were all fantastic. Was a moving and sad but enjoyable and fun story, and the music was perfect. Then at the Noel Coward Theatre we loved Night of the Iguana. Clive Owen, Anna Gunn and especially Lia Williams were impressive. And it was during this time that I was reading John Lahr’s Tennessee Williams: Mad Pilgrimage of the Flesh. I finished this book on the first of September and found Tennessee’s life intriguing, sad but wondrously creative. Lahr’s biography just pulls one along through all the ups and downs of a genius’ life. Next at the Duke of York’s was Rachel Wagstaff and Duncan Abel’s adaptation of Paula Hawkins, The Girl On the Train. I could scarcely remember the film and enjoyed the play immensely. Samantha Womack was excellent. And on the third of August, Chloe and Matt phoned at the last minute and wanted to know if we wished to join them for the performance of Max Vernon’s The View Upstairs. I had never heard of the arson attack on the gay bar in New Orleans. The play is a heavy gay musical comparing 1973 with today – a most moving and powerful but still enjoyable piece of drama excellently performed. And, finally, at The Palladium, I found Stephen Frye’s Mythos a most refreshing presentation of paganism for today’s world. Unbelievably popular with his adulating audience, Frye - not intimidated by ‘political correctness’ or post-colonial criticism - addresses the Greek and Roman gods through story and their own diversity.

And not to know quite where to place it (music, theatre, almost cinema), Gillie lent us her video of the 6&7 September 1985 staged concert of Stephen Sondheim’s The Follies at Avery Fisher Hall in New York’s Lincoln Center.  The musical, along with Gypsy and Cabaret, has been one of my all-time favourites. The DVD (‘Follies’ in Concert) includes the rehearsals and making of the concert and thoroughly, thoroughly enjoyable performances by Barbara Cook, Elaine Stritch, Lee Remick, Carol Burnett, and an incredible solo version of “The God-Why-Don’t-You-Love-Me Blues” by Mandy Patinkin. The whole album is a treasure, and everyone is superlative.

So most of the entertainment out of the way, and turning to health, I received my last hormone injection on the 6th of June. On the 19th of the same month, my PSA was still less than 0.01, but for the entire month, I suffered from intense lower back pain that somehow vanished after June. I do Han’s suggested lower back physical therapy exercises religiously twice a day. I came down with a miserable cold, the first in a long time, on the first of September. Both Gillie and Sylvester seem to have had the same. There are still post-radiation consequences, and I had a colonoscopy just a few days after my birthday. I return to the Royal Marsden on the first of October for results. And in August I learned from James that Benito had died. Then too, Natacha informed me that her mother, Barbara in Aups, had fallen and broken her cheek bone. She may have been on the floor for two days before being discovered. She came home after this, and I was able to speak to her, but then she had a second fall and was back in the hospital again. She has now been in palliative care for more than a month and has sounded quite miserable the few times I have been able to speak with her. Meanwhile, neighbour Peter (89) we discovered when we got back from Aldeburgh was at the Royal Brompton Hospital. We visited, and he came home subsequently, and he fell in his flat while we were at the August mixer. He phoned us, and though the emergency ambulance service was with him, he refused to let them take him to the hospital. Two days later, just as we were about to depart for the conference in Greenwich, he fell again. This time I phoned the ambulance after finding him with a cabinet of drawers on top of him and his arm trapped so he could not get it out. He ended up at the Chelsea Westminster for two weeks. On his first day back home, we had to get him again off the floor and back into bed. But he has since had daily home care arranged twice a day by the NHS. But just as I have been at work writing this update, he has fallen again (trying to put my birthday gift outside his door) and has gashed his head and arm. Lisa is with him now.

So apart from Vivianne & Chris’ wedding anniversary in Stratford, our pagan events included our jumping into the Thames at the moment of the midsummer sunrise, three Stead events (a mid-June moot for which Vladimir spoke about fasting, and Robin on the pre-Roman Germanic lunisolar calendar; his midsummer ritual at the end of June by the London Wall; and at the same location a “Blót to Lord Heimdall.” This last was a nice ceremony, though all the others who participated were Brexiters. For July’s Nova Stellar gathering, I enjoyed Sorita d’Este’s very fine talk on Hecate. And finally, at Conway Hall, there was the Pagan Federation Mabon ritual focused on Hades (Mani was impressive), Persephone and Demeter.

Other events have been the Art and Antique Fair at Olympia in June. No more Mossman’s, so at the champagne bar we had the seafood platter. But while there we managed to get complimentary tickets for Masterpiece at the Royal Hospital Chelsea where we enjoyed the next day a late lunch at the Ivy before Tony Bennett that evening at the Albert Hall. Both the Olympia and Masterpiece events are incredible and exhausting  museum-like experiences. In July I finished reading Guy Davenport’s 1981 The Geography of the Imagination – an absolutely marvelous collection of essays on Ezra Pound, T.S. Eliot, Samuel Beckett and my English major mentor, the literary critic Hugh Kenner. I have not enjoyed a book as much as this one since Weston La Barre‘s 1970 The Ghost Dance: The Origins of Religion.

We had a perfectly lovely five nights in Aldeburgh with Gin in the Pike home that faces directly onto the sea – with Rix joining us midway. This included my watching Roger Federer beat Rafael Nadal at Wimbledon and then losing to Novak Djokovic two days later. I believe this last was the longest Men’s Single Championship match. It was exhausting to watch. The intervening day between those two matches, we had a delightful visit with Gin and Rix to Sailor’s Path and the observatory hut overlooking the marshes.

In July, we had two fine visits from Sarah and Clara who stayed with us in the London flat. And in August, for one night we put up Santos, a friend of a friend of Bron’s son Anders. I managed to blow up the cooker on the 19th of July while cleaning it, and we were without a stove for more than a month. During that month, and during a wondrous heat wave, we had to dash over to Amsterdam for our residence cards (could only be done in person). On the 24th of July, we got to St. Pancras Station and just about the time we were to board (11:04), our train was cancelled. The soaring heat had melted the high speed train wires in Bruxelles. It was a hassle just getting out of the Eurostar area. We were able finally to change our tickets for the following morning at 07:16. As a result we had to cancel our plans with Stephan & Koen and also with Adrian and his family. But we did get in Amsterdam for the Furrinalia to get to Barney’s and then eventually continued with the smoking and opening the Johnny Walker Green Label bottle that Pierre & Catherine once gave us sitting with chairs and table out in the sun in front of the house door. We saw and talked to successively Pierre, Gunter and Kostas. And we had that lovely time with Santima, Vicky, Jim and Amir as well as successfully collecting our cards. But, repeating now, because SNCF informed us that the Belgian train strikes might cause severe delays, and we could possibly miss our Eurostar connection in Bruxelles, we came early to the Centraal Station where we learned that all trains were full but operating on time. So we went for a relaxing lunch at the Grand Café where a beautiful white parrot of 18/19 years lives. A vestige of Old Europe. I was leisurely working on my laptop in the time before our scheduled 15:15 departure, but when I checked my watch at 14:20 I suddenly remembered that I had not reset it. We ran and really ran, not waiting for the lift as there were too many before us, and I could see that the train was arriving on Platform 14 but a bit late. We were on Platform 1. But we reached the train before it departed for Bruxelles. And in Bruxelles, the Eurostar was delayed. But once on board (it was air conditioned and cooler), we were served a meal and had beer. There were delays also with the Underground in London, but we finally got home.

Before Amsterdam, we had been to the March for Change in London and, after Amsterdam, we went to the Downing Street protest on the last day of August. With the crowds, I found both occasions moving. Johnson had prorogued Parliament two days earlier, but he at least was defeated on a no-deal Brexit by Parliament three days later.

Also in August, we attended the three-day Breaking Convention conference in Greenwich. While there, we saw Zelda, Jon, Hattie, Andy Letcher and David Luke. Jonathan Ott’s talk on matter & energy was excellent. The History session on the last day was interesting for me: evidence of entheogens in Christian art; stimulants in the ancient Near East; cannabis use in India. During the lunch break, Richard and I visited the Peter and Paul Church as well as its twin with a magnificent ceiling depicting the gods. Even fell briefly asleep. After cappuccini in the complex’s café, it was Patrick Smith’s talk on “Salvia divinorum and the wheel” which was interesting; San Pedro, Neuropsycolysis, and Hypnosis, less so. We took the ferry back for the second time. All in all, it was feast of an achievement of investigation and presentation into the field of psychedelic research and psychology.

And on the Volturnalia which turned out to be the last of the heat wave, we had a full afternoon at the Men’s Pond in Hampstead Heath. I only jumped into the water briefly and for the rest collapsed and slept. It was, however, the completion for us of the summer magic.

And though I came down with a miserable cold right as September began, we had a most agreeable visit and stay with Gillie in Little Compton at the north end of the Cotswolds. Especially lovely was our visit to the stone-built town of Chipping Campden. A few days after we got back to London, my new laptop that Matt had arranged for me arrived. It’s been a struggle since, but I have surprised myself by managing most of the set-up and glitch-solving on my own. A downside has been a rejection of my telluric theology submission to The Pomegranate as well as some mixed critique on my contended lack of objectivity concerning academically approaching paganism. But beside the cooker replacement, we have been able to get the leak from the toilet repaired. The plumber from Romania recognized what the problem was and fixed it all in less than an hour. Miraculous!

And then it was the party. Beside Richard and me, we were 32: Stead, Meg, Darby & Stephen, Ben & Tanya, Gin, Rix, Sylvester, Chloe & Matt, Woody, Prudence, Jonah and Mitch, Kat & Kyle, Rosemary, Padma, James & Eamonn, Stephen & Roberto, Penny & Hamish, Guy & Caroline, Samantha, Ninka, Paddy & Keir, and Lily. It was a splendid gathering. Richard and I had single malt. Most had champagne. And I sang Richard’s Black & Blue which succeeded reasonably enough – my singing debut. The kids had left but then came back and made themselves negroni. It all ended with just family. The following day was my 80th birthday itself. Richard and I jumped randomly onto a bus, but in the garden of the Church of All Soul’s neither of us had a lighter on us, and we had to wait until we got home to smoke some more and have our own negroni – having stopped at the Colliseo first for cappuccini.

It all remains a whirlwind of sorts with still the intention to slow down a bit more. The energy depletion is a continual concern, and I have had my own moments of falling down (as on the Underground escalator coming back from Greenwich) or also drawing blood several times when trying to re-secure my bicycle to the storage rack. But otherwise, both Richard and I are more than grateful for what we have together and for the gifted surroundings we have about us both in and beyond London Town.