Europe Day Concert 2017: depth and range

There, bang in the middle of what by common consent turned out to be the best Europe Day Concert to date, was the world premiere of a piece which went as deep and as high as anything on the programme: Stranded by Matthew Kaner, in which the solo violinist finally breaks away from the combative orchestra and walks offstage, still playing. A surprise which no-one expected and which in the programme note the composer hadn't divulged, but everyone got the point. Arriving at St John's Smith Square halfway through the afternoon rehearsal to hear the already great Benjamin Baker and conductor Jonathan Bloxham - my favourite twentysomething musicians* and I pictured at the after-concert party below -

rehearsing the new work with the Northern Chords Festival Orchestra, I was taken aback by the ravishing beauty of the sound (Matt's orchestration is a wonder) and the impact of the playing.

An email comment, one of many from friends, sums it up: 'a superb band - quite the best I've heard in its depth and range'. Photos here all by Jamie Smith, with the exception of the below, composer concentrating at the rehearsal, by me.

And it all went beautifully. People wept, and not just at the emotion of standing, as we always do, for Beethoven's Ode to Joy at the end of the concert (I have to add that the orchestral statement of the Ninth Symphony's big tune has never sounded better either, even if it had an extra kick after Macron used it two days earlier). The emotional depths were especially sounded in 'The Oak Tree' from Sibelius's peerless incidental music to The Tempest, Ariane's Farewell from Martinů's eponymous late masterpiece with Maltese soprano Nicola Said rising to divadom - how she's come on even in the year since I saw her perform the role at the Guildhall School -

and the metamorphosis/resurrection, Respighi's 'The Birth of Venus' from his Botticelli Triptych, swelling and all-enveloping.  Again, an e-mail accolade is worth reproducing: 'it was an extraordinary evening, beautiful, at times so exquisite (Martinů's aria) it actually hurt, dignified, wrenching'.

The theme was 'islands', Malta currently holding the presidency (the opening speeches, from Norman Hamilton, Maltese High Commissioner, and Christine Dalby, Acting Head of the European Commission Representation in the UK, were succinct and very much to the point). The programme looked good on paper. But in practice it went further than expected - so much could be taken as metaphor for the tragedy of the UK's imminent departure, even if it wasn't consciously planned as such. Again there was general agreement that not a piece failed to make its mark.

Even Maltese composer Charles Camilleri's 'Nocturne' from the Malta Suite - not the piece originally desired - provided a melancholy showcase for Jonathan's wonderful strings, making so much sound for the grouping 5.5.3.3.2 and all the nimbler as a result, as the iridescent variety of Mendelssohn's The Hebrides Overture immediately established. Communication and flexibility, assets which Jonathan has developed amazingly quickly - he's now assistant to Mirga Gražinytė-Tyla at the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra - caught everyone around me, I could see, and didn't let go until over an hour later. Sounds as if I'm exaggerating but I speak the truth when I say I haven't heard a livelier or more gorgeous-sounding performance of the Mendelssohn classic.

The strings were lovely and bouncy for Mozart, too, and we had absolute top quality from two singers currently on the Royal Opera's Jette Parker Young Artists Programme, Irish soprano Jennifer Davis and tenor Thomas Atkins (a Kiwi, like Ben). He took the less florid version of Idomeneo's 'Fuor del mar' but still adorned the da capo with extra flashes of brilliance; Jennifer had Ilia's tender-sad Act Three aria 'Zeffiretti lusinghieri', a neat follow-on to the natural settings of the soprano and tenor numbers from Nielsen's Springtime on Funen. That was deliciously done, too - Siri Fischer Hansen, administrator of JPYAP, attested to the excellent delivery of her native Danish - and turned out to be the favourite of quite a few folk in the audience. One spectator pointed out that it was all the more beautiful for being accompanied by the almost rustic vision of trees and sinking sun through the big window behind the orchestra.

Soprano and tenor rose to the French ardour of the Act 2 love duet for Nadir and Leila in Bizet's The Pearl Fishers, too - Thomas is going to be singing Don José in the Royal Opera's Peter Brook Tragédie de Carmen, and I can hear an ideal Micaëla in Jennifer already.

I still think there's no greater demonstration of genius than Sibelius's distillation of a lifetime's experience in the Tempest music. He was such a master of the miniature, and to my mind Song II, a canny orchestral adaptation of Ariel's 'Where the bee sucks', is its epitome: two short verses, the second first abbreviated and then given a surprise extension, wryly singing on two clarinets with the lightest string bounce underneath, all in a minute. Joe Shiner, destined to be either a soloist or an outstanding principal in one of the world's best orchestras (or both), and his colleague Greg Hearle brought more subtlety to their parts than I've ever heard on recorded interpretations, and Joe's belated solo in The Hebrides, as in his performance with the London Firebird Orchestra last year, brought tears to the eyes; Jonathan let him take all the time in the world over it. Joe was also the orchestral fixer, working flat out beyond the call of duty.

Flautist Alena Lugovkina - on trial, I understand, for the Royal Opera Orchestra - also excelled, and leader Zoë Beyers got to take over from Ben at key points in Stranded. Quite apart from the beauty of seeing a group of young players really enjoying and putting across their artistry - they later said how struck they were by the quiet intensity of the audience and the ecstatic reception it gave them - they were truly representing Europe, with an Estonian violinist (Marike Kruup), a Bulgarian cellist (the outstanding Michael Petrov), a Polish harpist (Zuzanna Olbrys), a Spanish first horn (Francisco Gomez Ruiz) and other nationalities in the mix (I haven't pinpointed them all). Delighted also that the other good friend I've made from first acquaintance at the Pärnu Festival in 2015, Sophia Rahman, was the pianist.

Everything went smoothly, receptions included. Now everyone can enjoy the aftermath of a job superbly done and look forward to the CD.

*Left out one other - the prodigiously talented Ed Picton-Turbervill, formerly organ scholar at St John's Cambridge who graduated with a Double First in Music, celebrating the launch of his book on the trees of the Backs by playing the Goldberg Variations this coming Saturday. The Bach evensong following an afternoon picnic and the launch at St John's may involve him too, I don't know. Genius, anyway. Ought to include my dearly beloved godson Alexander Lambton, too, whose sax contributions to various classy bands are well above the average.

We love Kimmy Schmidt - and Titus Andromedon

The thinking behind Tina Fey and Robert Carlock's brilliant creation Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt is funny/witty enough in its approach to an unusual subject: a girl kept underground by a religious fanatic for 15 years tries to adjust to the 'real' world of New York. There are four very funny main characters. But did anyone quite realise the extent to which Tituss Burgess, tenorish star of musicals and openly gay actor, would steal the show?

Undoubtedly one of television comedy's immortals already, 'Titus Andromedon' (born Ronald Ephen Wilkerson in Chickasaw County, Mississippi) is a wildly insecure out of work gay actor going for various bizarre jobs and alternately helping/hindering indomitable Kimmy as she tries to negotiate a brave new world with unquenchable optimism. The chameleonic facial gestures are very much par for the course of a firecracking script. Difficult to choose a favourite strand to date, but Titus's bid to hog the media when he heads down to Indiana with Kimmy for the trial of the phony Reverend Richard Wayne Gary Wayne (John Hamm of Mad Men, superlative in a comic-creepy role) has to top the bill. And the hire-a-costume confrontation is surreal, too.

I love it all, though, title theme included - short, snappy and speech-melodic as the incredulity of a local resident at the rescue of the 'Mole Women' is set to music (for context, watch the very first episode). You also have to love the strand where demented socialite Jacqueline Voorhees (Jane Krakowski) clashes with her native American Indian heritage - at the point we've reached, wackily interlaced with Titus' one-day marriage coming back to haunt him. 

This is one of our only two telly indulgence on spare evenings at the moment. Sad to say that the latest series of RuPaul's Drag Race is desperately disappointing - the formulas at last begin to wear thin with the least attractive group of competitors ever (though I'm rooting for the gorgeous Valentina). Maybe time to call it a day?

On a more serious note, why did I never see Precious when it came out? What a bloody, searing masterpiece of a film. Ultimately feelgood, but the trajectory is constantly buffeted sideways. Such a harrowing journey for teenager Claireece Precious Jones, twice pregnant by her father, more or less illiterate at the start and abused by her horrific, manipulative mother, too - though we get to understand the monster in Mo'Nique's amazing performance (Mo'Nique below doing the right thing).

There are subtle characterisations, too, from Mariah Carey as Precious's not entirely nice social worker and Paula Patton, who lights up the screen as her alternative-school teacher.

Gabourey Sidibe had never acted before when she turned up to audition for Lee Daniels's film. Why she didn't get an Oscar, and why the film didn't sweep the board, says all too much about Hollywood. But we knew that already. Doesn't matter; this is one for the ages. I've ordered up Sapphire's Push, on which the film is based - not a true story, though it has the ring of a terrible authenticity - and its sequel, The Kid, about Precious's son. Piles of stuff to read now.

Norfolk springtime walk (no churches)

Or rather no interiors, and no pressure to hoof it from church to church as we do every September. This time the wonders were entirely natural: a bluebell wood

and a field full of cowslips

chief among them. We did see one church tower close enough, that of St Mary's Erpingham, but had to turn off up a lane before reaching it. The scene, nevertheless, is one that can't have changed, a bit of wire fencing apart, for centuries.

But before I give more context, I've been owing generous donors a final record of our achievement, and it's a good one - namely £4004 between the four of us (pleasing symmetry) which made All Saints Burnham Thorpe the top fundraiser for the Norfolk Churches Trust in 2016. Many thanks to all who gave. And a bit of shameless self-publicity in that, having won two categories in the photocompetition backed by Cheffins, I reproduce the two pages below from the Eastern Daily Press. The spiderweb framing St Peter and St Paul's Honing I'm pleased with, somewhat more puzzled why they chose the stained glass at St Peter's Ridlington for the detail.

Full context back here.

Our walk with Southrepps-based friend Jill on Bank Holiday Sunday was a delightful and varied circuit around and beyond the Blickling estate. I don't think we've ever walked in Norfolk in the spring, and the greatest pleasure was the light green of the newly-leafing oaks.

The National Trust has maintained the paths around the estate superbly, especially the boardwalks over beautiful marshland.

Part of it should be bright yellow with irises in a couple of weeks' time.

These are wetlands around the lovely river Bure.

Within a short space of time, I clocked four species of butterfly, including a delicate blue, a Brimstone and this Speckled Wood (Pararge aegaria) .

They eventually give way to fields, with the inevitable rape colouring the landscape yellow.

To pinpoint our bluebell wood might be to invite its spoliation - whenever one's identified in the press, everyone flocks to it. This was our first glimpse.

I wish you could hear the intense birdsong and smell the bluebells too.

Coming out of the wood, we took a lane around the edge, again with plenty more splendid oaks

and then a little bunny appeared. From the way it sat there quivering there might have been something wrong with it, but nothing obvious. Anyway, we left it with a question mark

encountering a friendly dog as well as this horse and foal

and then headed towards Erpingham. This is where the church tower led us forward for a bit before we turned left.

No lunch to be had in the pub Jill had planned for our stop - power failure and overbooking, familiar story - so we walked a mile or so further than planned, past a thatched, Dutch-gabled barn at Limetree Farm

to catch some necessary sustenance at Alby Crafts and Gardens. An eccentrically adorned tea room serves good lunch and massive slices of locally made cake.

Here it was that we first heard, then saw the peacocks. And one of the four males faffing around the solitary peahen decided to put on a display.

Reluctantly giving the gardens a miss, we headed back to Erpingham, but by a different route along the lovely Thwaite Common. Then to rejoin the Weavers' Way along what passes for heights in this part of the world, before hitting the cowslip meadow.

We headed back down to the Bure valley

which is very paradisical this side of the Blickling Estate

We eventually re-entered the Estate through a wood leading up to the lake.

I wonder if Henry James had this setting in mind for the outdoor scenes at 'Bly' in The Turn of the Screw. With the now-watery sun it had a faintly sinister feel

but the waterbird music kept it magical. A crested grebe was leading her brood across the water's surface.

So back to the car and the house, which I visited on a City Lit summer school many moons ago when my beloved Trude Winik was still alive (she took some very lopsided photos in the drive which I still treasure).

Sunday's excursion to see the angel roof of newly restored St Peter and St Paul's Knapton - all scaffolded up and shut down when we visited in September - and then for a fresh crab lunch at the Overstrand shack, followed by a walk along the ever-crumbling cliffs, will have to wait for another instalment. I'm getting bad at keeping my promises of second chapters here these days, but the wonders of Knapton can't be ignored.

À la joie/To Joy/An die Freude

Update (10/5) - the Europe Day concert preview had to be temporarily removed yesterday, but here it is again, with a footnote to the effect that the quality of last night's playing, singing and the music itself - including the stunning new work by Matt Kaner - went deeper and higher than I could possibly have imagined. Everyone I spoke to was profoundly moved, and absolutely everything worked. More on that anon. Now, back to the original post.

For me, the moment when a tear came to the eye: Macron took to the podium to the strains of the European anthem, Beethoven's setting of Schiller's Ode to Joy in his Ninth Symphony. Tomorrow at the Europe Day concert in St John's Smith Square, we'll be standing for it with a special emotion. Happy to repeat this rather unusual arrangement by Andrew Manze when Rachel Podger led the European Union Baroque Orchestra - leaving its UK base thanks to Brexit - at last year's concert.

And I think the programme will please: on a theme of islands, since Malta holds the presidency at the moment. As well as a movement from the Malta Suite of Charles Camilleri, we'll be hearing island music from Mendelssohn (Overture The Hebrides), Mozart (two arias from Idomeneo), Nielsen (two songs from Springtime on Funen), Sibelius (five pieces from his incidental music to The Tempest), Bizet (the Act 2 Love Duet from The Pearl Fishers), Martinů (the final monologue from Ariane), Respighi ('The Birth of Venus' from the Trittico Botticelliano) and a new piece by composer Matt Kaner for violin and orchestra, Stranded. A truly European menu.

There are four splendid soloists - soprano Jennifer Davis and tenor Thomas Atkins from the Royal Opera's Jette Parker Young Artists Programme, Maltese soprano Nicola Said to reprise the Callas-alike Ariane she sang at the Guildhall last year (pictured above with Josep-Ramon Olivé as Thesée by Clive Barda) and the supremely cultured violinist Benjamin Baker. Jonathan Bloxham, currently assistant to Mirga Gražinytė-Tyla at the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, conducts his Northern Chords Festival Orchestra. What can I add except to say that I'm very excited at the prospect. And in the meanwhile, it's Springtime for France (and thankfully not for Hitler, though Madame will still be causing trouble in the years to come). How better to mark it than with the beautiful paulownia tree outside La Cité metro a couple of weeks back?

Meanwhile the stranded monsters gaping lie, but still capable of great harm. Their provenance is wittily suggested by this juxtaposition - by whom, I know not, but it attracted quite a bit of attention when I put it up on LinkedIn. Well done, whoever.

Orkestival 2017: back to the Concertgebouw

I was delighted to be asked back to serve on the jury of this annual Dutch school orchestras festival - only nominally a competition - and as chairman, no less. Slightly overparted, I feel, as my colleagues this year were not only, once again, the brilliant violinist Jeroen de Groot - how brilliant has become clearer in the interim from hearing his Bach CDs - but also two other high-level instrumentalists: international cellist Larissa Groeneveld, whose disc of Zemlinsky, von Brucken Fock (no, me neither) and Dohnányi with pianist Frank van de Laar I look forward to hearing, and Royal Concertgebouw trombonist Nico Schippers, who also rewarded me with two splendid discs featuring the orchestra's brass ensemble.

We were very happy to be joined in our backstage discussions by the genial and obviously very hard-working Gerda Hoekstra, director of the Stichting het Zelfstandig Gymnasium. The title should explain that though the Netherlands is without what we'd call public or private schools, in national terms at any rate, the participants drawn from the 40 top schools tend to be among the high achievers. The mix consequently isn't that representative of multi-kulti Holland. Well, that's the way it is, being under such auspices at any rate. The musical standard, even so, varies, as do the types of ensembles featured. I set most of this up in last year's account, so, with a preliminary shot of myself with (left to right) Gerda, Larissa, Nico and Jeroen,

let's follow the same format I used in 2016 and give what I hope will be helpful notes about each of the orchestras. We actually did this between the three of us in the summing-up speeches up, but as that was divided, these are my personal opinions - though we were mostly in agreement. Not least about the clear winner, which has to come first -

Aulos, Praedinius Gymnasium, Groningen And what a difference a year makes. In 2016 they were, to be honest, the least inspired of the bunch - though the most charming afterwards, when they asked me about their Handel 'if we had let off real fireworks, would we have got more points?' To which I answered with that assumed sagacity of someone appointed judge, 'the point is to put more fireworks in your playing'. Last year's messages about communication - with the proviso I made this year, that I know it's difficult to show you're enjoying yourselves if you have to concentrate on playing the notes - seem to have paid off. Aulos's programme was perfect. It started with an ideal novelty act, Leroy Anderson's The Typewriter (why aren't more of this witty tunesmith's pieces played by youth orchestras?) A boy who was clearly a born actor operated an invention which neither he nor any of his contemporaries are likely to have used before (I stopped using my electric typewriter in 1986). Another rang the bell. The cross rhythms and hiccoughs aren't easy, but they all did it perfectly. Then there was a really lovely piece composed by the horn-player, Daniël Apol, who I snapped in the finale (that's him on the left below).

Not only was Apol's Romance a gem, but we also suddenly heard real phrasing - not common in Orkestival. Full marks to the music teacher/conductor, Jorien Elout. She also had the inspired idea of bringing in players from the other orchestra in that segment of the day, Mercator et Musica from the splendid town of 's-Hertogenbosch - more on them below - in a wittily compiled fantasia on Bizet's Carmen by Eijk Suzuki: unexpected, concise and taking a leaf out of Shchedrin's Carmen ballet in its use of tuned percussion. So all told, a winning formula: wit, lyricism, originality, panache and collegiality.

Taking the rest chronologically, let's go back to the beginning with Group 1, kicking off with Coornhert Gymnasium, Gouda. The teacher needed to conduct with a bit more spirit, and it was a shame the lively percussion used in an Abba medley weren't engaged for the Radetzky March. The revelation here was 17-year-old soprano Annecke de Hoop singing Pamina's 'Ach,ich fühl's' from Die Zauberflöte. A polished technique already, though the pace should have been set faster for her and while I know the conductor had to keep his eye on his players, once he realised his singer was likely to come in early or late, he needed to cue here. But no doubt about it, she was the individual standout of the day. Unfortunately Coornhert outstayed their time and welcome - should have dropped the Grease selection; 'Dancing Queen' had already left us happy enough.

Murmellius Gymnasium, Alkmaar made a mistake by starting with Fauré's Pavane, and those loud string passages in the middle are really tricky. Again it was the teacher's job to set it flowing, and to hell with the wrong notes. Can't say I remember much about the other two pieces. They seem to have lost the inspirational music master who helped them to win the 'promising' category last year with a clapping piece.

Vossius Gymnasium, Amsterdam always has the biggest advantage in terms of size and training; they gave the strongest purely classical programme last year and had won several times before that. Coen Stuit got a terrific performance from them, overall the most polished, of songs and dances (not the symphonic ones) from Bernstein's West Side Story. Quite an impressive string sound here, I think you'll agree, since Vossius has been quick off the mark to put up a film on YouTube (not in the same league as the professional one excerpted for the Ode to Joy below, which I think covered everything, but this will do).

Less good was Haydn's Overture to Lo Speziale: much too heavy for an curtainraiser to an opera buffa. But still, an ambitious choice. And wonderful to watch the enthusiasm not just in performing but also in reacting when he wasn't playing of timpanist Omar Beganovic - I think I've got the right name there, but in summing up I simple called him 'cool dude'. That's him on the drumkit for the Bernstein.

Group 2 Aulos followed Mercator et Musica, Stedelijk Gymnasium, 's-Hertogenbosch. They could have done with more contrast, and the repetitive theme of Jacob de Haan's Concerto d'amore was really rather boring. There were some fine solos in Alexis Ciesla's Balkan Groove, though, even if not enough was made of the groove itself.  M&M can also share part of the prize, too, for fielding soloists in Aulos's Carmen selection.

A quick lunch in the Concertgebouw canteen, staffed by extremely pleasant people - as is the entire hall.

Group 3 Euterpe, Stedelijk Gymnasium, Arnhem fielded a star treble last year, and a good one this year, giving us the novelty of a boy as Mozart's Cherubino with 'Voi che sapete' from Le nozze di Figaro. Sang it accurately but - big ask - needed to express something of what it was about. Otherwise, a very impressive programme began superbly with Corelli's Concerto Grosso Op. 6 No. 8. The first violinist had professional poise, and there was a real surprise when we heard the solo tone of the young lad sitting next to her: beautiful (if I'm not mistaken this is the same who sang so amazingly as last year's star soloist, Casper Jeukendrup). Quite enjoyed Tijuana Taxi but the awkwardly filleted Capriccio Espagnol didn't have a hint of elan. In the only slight lack of agreement between us jury members, the decision was taken to give the runner-up prize to Euterpe, but as I understood it was really supposed to be for the group who showed the biggest promise, I would have unhesitatingly have given it to

Panta Musica, Johan de Wit Gymnasium, Dordrecht Last year they began virtually from scratch with a charming, oddball ensemble. How it had grown this time, enough for them to begin with a clever guide to the orchestral departments in carefully chosen snippets. And what I loved best about their engaging Dudamelesque mentor-conductor Saul de Caluwé was that he went not for a David Stone-style 'classics for schools' arrangement but the WHOLE of Saint-Saëns's Danse Macabre which, even if it was almost beyond their abilities, the group got through intact.Always happy to hear any version of Piazzolla's Libertango too.

Gymnasium Haganum, The Hague had another would-be charmer in charge, but I never quite worked out what Piet Raphael was playing at, gurning occasionally when he would have done better to keep his eye on the ball. The teacher should never become the centre of attention. And they deserved better. But we all enjoyed a 'Hey Jude' singalong at the end.

The poster, by the way, is also the result of a competition - the winning entry is by Eva Versteeg from Gymnasium Haganum. The theme - maybe it was made clear by presenters Adda van Zanden and Rikkert van Huisstede, but my Dutch isn't up to it - was 'Met een Twist', 'With a Twist', that apparently also having the connotation in the language of strife or conflict. Which some orchestras carried through, others seemingly didn't.

Group 4 Gymnasium Celeanum, Zwolle introduced a novelty in the form of bagpiper Cees Scholten, but as he wasn't one of the kids, the effect was slightly marred (and the orchestra only got to join in briefly). Good to see that the dayglo pitched thwackies known as 'boomwhackers' made a special appearance for a more aptly novel treatment of the James Bond theme. Personally I rather liked the Muppet Show tune to end, though my colleagues were a bit sniffier about it.

Big Band Stedelijk Gymnasium, Nijmegen still needed a bit more swing, as we noted last year. There was a rather interesting kid who made impressive sound effects, but the amplification went awry again for the talented vocalists. The mikes need testing, if it's possible, so that they don't scupper good intentions.

Last but certainly not least, last year's winners Christelijk Gymnasium Beyers Naudé, Leeuwarden. Even if Aulos hadn't come up with such a brilliant trio of entertainments our champions wouldn't have cut it this year simply because their programme was lacking in variety. But now that the red-headed violinist who made such an impression last year has moved on, all eyes were on Jorn Stavenga, the trumpeter who was the true leader, capping a brass sound that's absolutely gorgeous to hear (trombones shone at one point). For that we have the brass band tradition in Friesland - where nearly everyone, it seems, is blond - to thank. She spoke to me afterwards to thank me for last year, I returned the compliment for this one. Very focused, is going on to study conducting, and I'm sure she'll do well.

Final break, quick summing-up backstage and then on for the grand finale. First came the results of inspirational Mirjam van Dam's group voice coaching. They'd only allocated half an hour for the whole thing, but I still insisted that we all got to speak to give encouragement to each group. Got applause for starting with a bit of Dutch, but it all went a bit quiet when I said how good it was to be back just after the Dutch people had made the right choice in the election. Maybe you don't raise politics, but there was an important link to be made between Coen's choice of the Ode to Joy aka the European Anthem - we will be standing for it at the Europe Day concert on 9 May - and the pride we feel in being united in Europe against populist bigots like Wilders.

From then on it all went swimmingly, until I was so flustered by being pinched - I kid you not - to get on with it (I wasn't rambling, but I was determined to make the points I'd intended) that at first I announced the wrong winner. Pure Oscars moment; I think it was taken in the right spirit. Confusion absolved, there were more speeches, and then Coen conducted the Beethoven. Kudos to the superior film work here.

He's planning a Brexit concert with ironic takes on various pieces - The Lark Ascending is the UK flying away, though as a passionate fellow-European he certainly doesn't think that's a good thing.

We retired to the very characterful bar behind the Concertgebouw. Nico told me it's the favourite haunt of the brass and many of the older players - the younger ones tend to go round the corner. Anyway, the sun shone in the midst of a cold snap, we sat out, my hosts Machteld and Nick (centre back; sorry the sun has all but obliterated Coen's face) turned up along with Adda (second from the left), we moved into the shelter,

Rikkert and Adda's co-organiser Jitske joined us,  and a select party went off for supper since this time there wasn't a concert in the evening. A happy day, fired up by youthful enthusiasm and dedication. I took away a lovely bunch of tulips, but assuming they wouldn't get through airport security the following day, left them with my hosts after our lunch at Keukenhof Manor.