John McLaughlin - Barbican - London

Down to London to see the guitarist John McLaughlin and his band at the Barbican.  My records show that we saw them in 2010, 2012 and 2014, but not since, so we were looking forward to it:

On the 15.13 to London, catching up on some reading:

We planned our journey down to give us some time at one of our favourite bookshops in Bloomsbury, Judd Books:

Judds stock overstocks returned from other academic bookshops and it's a great place to pick up a bargain - or, in this case, two:

A quick walk to the Persephone bookshop on Lambs Conduit Street.  Amanda is a big fan of this publisher but today, mindful of the lack of space on her shelves and the number of unread volumes stacking up on her study floor, she curbed her enthusiasm and limited her purchases to some surplus endpapers, which will no doubt be turned into some form of collage in due course.

After a further short walk we hailed a cab which took us the rest of the way to the Barbican.  We made for the Members Lounge, where drinks and snacks (beef brisket croquettes and thin fries) were consumed while we people-watched:

Coats and bags checked, we made our way into the hall.  Obligatory selfie:

The view from row H (which is where the rake starts, and therefore usually provides an excellent vantage point):

It genuinely never ceases to amaze me that sentient beings with at least the mental capacity to book concert tickets and to make their way to the venue on the correct day and at approximately the correct time turn into blithering idiots when it comes to finding their seats in said venue.  The notion of rows labelled A, B, C etc and seats numbered 1, 2, 3 etc is not exactly rocket science, but the proportion of the audience here and in practically every theatre or music venue we have ever visited who find themselves unable to locate their seat on a two dimensional grid gives me real concern about the maths that is being taught in schools these days.

We sat and watched the usual kerfuffle wherein those people whose seats were in the centre of an unbroken row were invariably the last to arrive (often just as the house lights were dimming), creating havoc for all those audients already seated and, no doubt, not a little distraction to the opening act - Indian singer Ranjana Ghatak.

Accompanied by the Israeli bassist Liran Donin (Led Bib) and guitarist Jack Ross, she performed music from her forthcoming album alongside songs by the mystic poets Kabir and Meerabai, as well as classical songs and prayers in Sanskrit.

The short set was enjoyable and well received; there are a few photos here and a (very) short video clip here; the video is on a loop, so no complaints that it is very repetitious!

After a short break, during which chocolate ice cream was consumed and drinks were purchased, it was back to our seats for the main event.  

As announced by McLaughlin at the beginning, the 90-odd minute set trawled the latter years of his back catalogue, and even included one number by The Mahavishnu Orchestra back in the 1970s:

Setlist

1. Trilogy - from the Mahavishnu Orchestra album "Between Nothingness & Eternity"
2. Gaza City - from the John McLaughlin & the 4th Dimension album "Black Light"
3. Abbaji (For Alla Rakha)  – from the John McLaughlin album "Floating Point"
4. Hijacked – from the John McLaughlin album "Qué Alegría"
5. New Blues Old Bruise - from the John McLaughlin album "Industrial Zen"
6. The Creator Has a Master Plan - a cover of the tune from the eponymous Pharoah Sanders album
7. Call and Answer - from the John McLaughlin & the 4th Dimension album "Now Here This"
8. Light at the Edge of the World – a cover of the tune from the Pharoah Sanders album "A Prayer Before Dawn"
9. Echoes From Then - from the John McLaughlin & the 4th Dimension album "Now Here This"

A video clip of Hijacked can be found here.

After a standing ovation the band returned to the stage for a single encore -

Sulley - from the Gary Husband album "Dirty & Beautiful, Volume 2".

And then they were gone.  From the expressions on their faces it seems safe to assume that the band enjoyed themselves and were appreciative of their rapturous reception - a fact seemingly confirmed by a tweet the next morning by the maestro himself:

A walk to the Barbican Tube station and a short (two stops) ride to St Pancras, where tea and treats were consumed to while away the 90 minute wait for the 00.15 home and the two-hour-plus journey.  Amanda came prepared:

Home at 02.55 and bed at 03.00.  The next day would be a pyjama day.

Hope!

To Stratford to see "Kunene and the King" at the Swan Theatre.  An uneventful trip to the Premier Inn; checked in and refreshed, we strolled into the town centre for a quick mooch around the shops and then to Edward Moon for dinner.  A grown up "trio of fish" accompanied by vegetables for Amanda: 

and my habitual burger:

Sweets (not pictured) followed: profiteroles with vanilla ice cream for Amanda and a marbled white & dark chocolate brownie, rich chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream for me.

We rolled out into the street and made our way to the theatre, taking in a walk around the waterside park and, as usual, a quick circumnavigation of the theatre building itself; we were rewarded with a view of one of the principals, Antony Sher, leaning on the balcony of his dressing room and quietly taking in the spring evening as he composed himself for what was to come.

The obligatory selfie:

and the view from our usual front-row-balcony seats:

As we waited for the rest of the audience to take their seats I heard a familiar voice booming from below.  We peered over the guardrail to see Richard (Victor "I don't BELIEVE it" Meldrew) Wilson making his way to his seat.  Looking dapper but slightly frail (he's in his early 80s and suffered a heart attack three years ago) he was walking slowly with a cane and was followed by a member of RSC staff carefully carrying his paper cup of red wine.  From a BBC documentary a few years ago I knew that Wilson is a close friend of Antony Sher, so he was obviously there to cheer on his pal.

In the late 1970s a friend and I went to see a production of Athol Fugard's play "Statements After an Arrest Under the Immorality Act" in the Haymarket Studio theatre in Leicester.  "Statements" tells the story of a white South African librarian and a black school principal who engage in a love affair that is explicitly banned by the Immorality Act; it was developed with two other plays ("Sizwe Bansi is Dead" and "The Island") from a series of improvisational workshops involving Fugard and the actors Yvonne Bryceland, Winston Ntshona and John Kani.  At the time, it felt as if apartheid was an evil that was still very much "here to stay".

Fast forward 40-odd years, and here we were in Stratford, waiting to see a play written by John Kani about the quarter of a century that had passed since the first post-apartheid democratic elections in South Africa.  Anthony Sher plays Jack Morris, a famous and irascible actor with terminal liver cancer who is, somewhat optimistically, preparing to play King Lear.  Kani plays the live-in care worker and nurse, Lunga Kunene, assigned to look after him.  "Until when?", asks Morris, mischievously and knowingly; "until you get better", deadpans Kunene.  During the uninterrupted 95 minutes of the play these apparently mismatched individuals trade barbs and knock the rough edges off each other as each man comes to understand the other just a little better.

It’s hard to believe that such a story could be ultimately so enjoyable and uplifting.  Given their backgrounds, and the rawness of emotions on display, there were, inevitably, scenes of anger and bitterness, but there was also humour, warmth, courage, kindness and compassion.  I had tears in my eyes as often as I laughed, and there were plenty of opportunities for both.  This was the sort of play that stays with you, and I could easily have sat through the whole production again as soon as it was over.

Afterwards we made our way down to the Swan Cafe for a quick cup of Earl Grey:

As we sat drinking and chatting we became aware of a small group of people two tables along from us; it was John Kani meeting two old friends and enjoying a post-performance ginger beer.  

I have always believed that buying a ticket to a play or a musical performance gives one the right to observe that event and nothing more; it does NOT entitle one to hassle performers, to demand to speak to them, to ask for autographs, etc. On the other hand, I have met many who were happy to engage with the audience in this way.  As we were leaving, I had five seconds during which to assess whether an approach to Kani would be rebuffed or accommodated.  I took a chance and approached the table: "I'm sorry to bother you...".  "You're not!!" came the warm and welcoming response from all three.  "We just wanted to thank you for a wonderful evening, and wondered if you would sign our programme as a memento...".  "Thank you", came the response from Kani, who then not only graciously signed the programme but prefixed his signature with the one word exhortation that perhaps best summed up the evening:

The following reviews are all worth a look (with the possible exception of the Evening Standard, whose reviewer must have been having an off night).

• #BrumHour
• British Theatre Guide
• Broadway World
• Bromsgrove Advertiser
• City Press
• Elementary Whatson
• Evening Standard
• Financial Times
• Leamington Courier
• Leamington Observer
• Morning Star
• Moss Cottage
• New York Times
• Peter Viney's Blog
• Prospect Magazine
• Sincerely Amy
• Stage and Screen
• Stage Review
• Stratford Observer
• Stratford Herald
• Stratford-upon-Avon Blogspot
• The Boar
• The Daily Telegraph
• The Guardian
• The Real Chris Sparkle
• The Stage
• Theatre Cat
• Theatre World
• Warwick Courier
• Whats On Stage

Back to the Premier Inn, and then an early start for home in the morning, as we had a lunch date with some friends and former colleagues of mine.