Blogfromthebarn

Friday, March 07, 2014

Opera! What's that all about?

I've always considered myself to be a pretty open-minded sort of fellow, unwilling to judge without evidence or experience, always happy to try and understand another's point of view, preference, perspective and passion. That's what I've always considered myself to be despite all the evidence to the contrary.

But I'm pretty sure I'm not a cultural philistine, I enjoy some art, I love a nice sculpture, I've dabbled with painting and music, I read voraciously, I'm a big cinema fan, but, If I'm honest, and I usually am, I've always had a bit of a downer on pretty much all things theatrical.
I find actors on stage to be mostly shouty, wavy, overblown and self-indulgent which makes a theatrical evening with Mrs Stuffy, who loves a drama, an exercise in ill-concealed self-sacrifice (for me) and gritted teeth (her). But I've never seen a real live opera, not sure why, like maturity it's something that just hasn't happened for me.

Until last night, (opera, not maturity).

Along with the lovely Sophie her ladyship and I whizzed up to the Albert Hall to experience Puccini's La Boheme, in the round. Curiously I have seen a few performance of operas on film, and Madame Butterfly (by the same dead bloke), once seen as a school trip, made, I recall, a real impression.

So I was prepared to be impressed, once more.

I'll start with the positives, the setting is great, I love the Albert Hall, the set was very clever, delivering a garret, a restaurant and a railway station, atmospherically and entertainingly. The scene in the restaurant was excellent theatre, dancing, roller-skating waiters, acrobatics, clowning and tomfoolery, great costumes, excellent choreography and some fine performances from a tremendously varied but well-cast troupe of bit players.

As an aside, surely everyone loves a roller-skating waiter? I'm not sure why they're not mandatory in all eateries.

So what's not to like? Well it sounds silly when I write it but it's the singing, technically impressive voices, both male and female but I found that the theatricality of the delivery, the sheer power of the voices, the focus on the delivery of the song failed to involve or interest me in the story, I just didn't care.

On the subject of caring, to the audience. There is a type of person who feels the need to demonstrate that either they know the opera backward or that they speak perfect Italian who telegraph each 'amusing bit' with a knowing guffaw, preemptive applause or 'better than thou' chuckle. Stop it you pretentious twits. No-one cares.

My enjoyment was also somewhat marred by the presence immediately in front of us of a chap who arrived pretty drunk and continued to get drunker throughout the evening.

Mrs Stuffy seemed surprised (and relieved) that this obnoxious gentleman made it through the performance un-smacked but I was focussed on understanding and appreciating the experience and had a hunch that I too might have enjoyed it a little more if mellowed by a glass or several.

Would I go to another opera? This wasn't an evening where one came away humming the songs, they were, to my discerning ear, instantly forgettable. Maybe I'd enjoy something lighter where I already love the music, Porgy and Bess, Carmen, Threepenny Opera but it does seem a very, very, silly way to tell a story, delivering "I'm going to the shops" dialogue in voices that could silence a stadium.

Best line overheard 'I didn't realise it was all singing!"

And incidentally, if I'm ever dying of TB get me some proper medical care, not a nice warm muff for my tiny frozen hands, bad medical guidance from Puccini there.

Adieu and thank you

Labels: albert hall, blog from the barn, blogfromthebarn, critic, la boheme, opera, puccini, Stuffy Oakwood barn

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Anniversary indulgence, The Hand and Flowers

Mrs Stuffy and I are irregular followers of the Professional Masterchef series as you'll know from my Michel Roux Jr post and we also enjoy the Great British Menu (particularly this year as one of the runners-up was Mary-Ann Gilchrist from Llanwrtyd Wells, someone whose cooking I think easily merits the 300 mile round trip).

But I digress, Mrs Stuffy (like many ladies in this part of the world apparently) has become a bit of a fan of Tom Kerridge, chef at the Hand and Flowers in Marlow, a larger than life figure who is pretty much ubiquitous in both those cookery programmes and indeed most culinary broadcasting on the tellybox at the moment. As is ever the case with her ladyship, no sooner the thought than the action and she promptly leapt to the phones and secured a 9:00 pm dinner reservation on our 13th wedding anniversary at his 2** Michelin starred pub in Marlow, some forty minutes up the road from us.

Nine of an evening is late dining for us but getting this reservation was no small achievement and required military grade anticipation and planning, they're booked solid on Fridays and Saturdays till November 2014 and weeknights aren't much better. With tastebuds a tingling we set off on a wild and wet and windy weeknight to celebrate 13 years of wedded bliss. (total lack of sarcasm there by the way).

It's billed as Britain's only Michelin starred pub and I'm not sure where the line is between restaurant, pub and gastropub, they also have some bedrooms apparently so go-figure as our American chums say, however whatever it is it's a welcoming establishment, the staff were young, from many corners of the world and competent,calm and cheerful, one suspects that Tom, if you do a good job, is probably a nice guy to work for.

Despite his claims that it's simple food it isn't really, it's very high quality dining served in a relaxed setting, this is not just well-executed pub grub. You can see the menu here, so I won't go into detail but I'm happy to admit that I was blown away by the flavours in my starter, a clever alternative scotch egg, using salt cod as the meat wrapping and a perfectly cooked bantam egg at it's core. My main course of pork was sublime but it's the dessert we've been boring people to death with for the past fortnight.

I was replete and not drinking so demurred when asked to plump for a sweet but her ladyship bullied me into sharing a Chocolate and Ale cake with a muscovado and salted caramel ice cream.

The cake, tried on its own, was just a little too bitter, the ice cream, on its own, too salt. Together, they blended into distinct but complimentary melt-in-the-mouth deliciousness, beautifully presented, exceedingly clever, a sign of a great palate and perfectly executed.

Many top restaurants deliver flawless food, but perfect delivery can all too often be less than exciting, this meal was a series of small delights. It wasn't a cheap supper but well worth it, I'm glad we saved up for 13 years for it.

Her ladyship chatted to the man himself in the bar afterwards, service having ended and told him how much better than Le Gavroche it was, good timing since he and Michel Roux Jr were on the radio together next morning, I hope Tom was polite enough to keep Mrs Stuffy's observations between the two of them.