Tales of love and loathing
The Chilingirian Quartet have excelled with their vivacity and coordination, which makes us forgive the odd slip. Here's a bootlegged picture of their performance. The weird concavity effect is not an optical illusion or a fisheye converter on my cell phone, but rather the concave back of Wigmore Hall.
And Julian Jacobson on the piano was very impressive. I wonder why I haven't been to piano recitals anymore for years now. We'll have to change that.
On a considerably more wordly note: How the descendants of CÚsar Frank beat the English 2:1 tonight is beyond me! The streets were empty when I walked down to Wigmore Street (we're talking about Oxford Street here - empty - as in: nobody!), and the mood was enthusiastic afterwards when the score stood at 1:0 for England. But they were hatching their hens a bit too early, or whichever way the saying goes. At any rate, the Scottish friend (no, not Macbeth) I had dinner with (at Carluccio's - quite decent) enjoyed himself immensely, as did the Italian waiter. Here's to Europe!