White-Capped Hills
28 October

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There's been a cold snap.

Arctic winds from the North have brought sleep and hail to Merseyside. The Welsh hills are capped with white. Meteorological Cassandras have been talking up the possibility of the coldest winter for decades. Just as they'll be talking up destructive weather patterns when the first of the November gales strikes.

Very few people seem to have any sense of past years. Cold snaps in October followed by milder Novembers and Decembers seem the norm at the moment. So, I'm confidently predicting a warmer November at the moment - alongside a Republican victory in the race for the White House, a recession in the South East of England (and one which will affect the rest of the UK much less but will be made much of in the media), cheaper fuel bills and dearer food.

Over the winter months, the Crosby Hall Educational Trust run a series of chamber music concerts. I took the plunge last Sunday and went to one given by the Ismail Piano Trio - students all at the Royal Northern College of Music. We heard works by Haydn, Beethoven, Debussy and Frank Bridge. It was all perfectly charming if not outstanding and well worth going out for to a local venue on a cold Sunday evening.

The week at work passed and then Welsh National Opera were in town.

Ross and I had been looking forward to Welsh National Opera's new production of Verdi's Otello for some time. In the event, it was so average that we left at the half way stage. It wasn't bad at all - just not good. And neither of us had the energy to sit through average.

Dennis O'Neill has been a stalwart performer throughout the years. Now the years have made their mark. I shan't be seeking him out again. To say that he was sensibly husbanding his resources during the performance would be to offer a kind gloss on the fact that the rôle of Otello is now well beyond his capabilities. Amanda Roocroft simply isn't a Verdian soprano and there's no use pretending that she is. David Kempster made a useful stab at Iago. Some of the minor rôles were well taken.

The main problem with the evening was the conducting of Michal Klauza. He simply didn't command the respect of the company and, as a result, there was a lot of uncertainty on the stage. The settings were adequate, the costumes fine and the direction minimal. Not good for a company of this standing.

Things picked up the following night for Rossini's Barber of Seville. This production has been around for some twenty years now and I last saw it in 1990. It's a slick presentation and the cast all took to it like a glove. Eric Roberts, a Buxton Festival stalwart, stole the show as Bartolo, Colin Lee gave the best singing as Almaviva, John Moore and Laura Parfitt were fine as Figaro and Rosina respectively.

Next day, Sunday, Ross and I were over to the East Coast for his Granddad's 80th birthday meal. It was a lovely event with four generations of family as well as colleagues and friends and neighbours and acquaintances all present.

Monday it was back over the Pennines and back into work on Tuesday. The dust is settling there slightly now as we settle into coping with Jill's absence - I'm honestly not sure that we shall ever see her again. At least this week, we don't have an Ofsted inspection or a visit from the Institute of IT Training to cope with on top of everything else.