Last year the first day at Queen’s was a wash-out (Anyone for Tennis?). It’s a different story this year with weather so warm that I dispensed with a tie and even considered shedding my coat.
The first two matches on Tuesday were closely fought with sets determined by tie breaks. The third match looked as if it might be disappointing as Andy Murray’s opponent had to withdraw and was replaced by Aussie rookie, Jordan Thompson, ranked 96th. He broke Murray’s serve in the second set and now Murray has a chance to stay out of the sun and rest up for Wimbledon.
The jamon carver was absent this year, Pimm’s was £8 a beaker, the crowd well-behaved, although mostly dressed for a spot of gardening on a warm day. It was prudent to take water and I did, diluted with Boston Bitters and gin. Last Saturday afternoon in Sussex the crowd were almost all very well turned out. (Two gentlemen (?) were attired in Hawaiian shirts and shorts.) There was a smattering of dinner jackets on the 14.47 from Victoria to Lewes. Much opprobrium has been poured on Southern Rail but I can attest to the efficacy of their air conditioning.
Wanda had invited me to see Hamlet, commissioned by Gus Christie this year and composed by another Aussie, Brett Dean. It is not often that contemporary opera is so well received that it seems certain to become a staple in company’s repertoires. Doctor Atomic (John Adams) and Powder Her Face (Thomas Adès) pass the test for me.
I saw Doctor Atomic at the ENO – again as a guest of opera fairy godmother, Wanda. She contrived an unusual way to see it. We stood in the wings. Gerald, to me, Gerry to everyone else, Finley fell into our arms after his stupendous finale to Act I, Batter My Heart. The words are by John Donne.
Batter my heart, three-person’d God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp’d town to another due,
Labor to admit you, but oh, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv’d, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be lov’d fain,
But am betroth’d unto your enemy;
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
Back to Brett’s Hamlet. The excellent reviews got it right. It is a riveting interpretation of the play. I was engaged throughout and only have two quibbles: Hamlet was completely bonkers throughout – I think his sanity should have drained away – and Ophelia changed from being completely sane (before the interval) to becoming a demented, but very sexy, harpy for her big madness scene. Take a look.
By the way, congratulations to Dame Sarah Connolly (Gertrude) on her DBE in the Birthday Honours. I should say that Wanda did take me to one dog at the ENO, The Perfect American (Philip Glass). Not even going to the after-party with the taciturn P Glass could make me like that opera. However, I hope I see Hamlet again.