A Night at the Opera, the Cafe in a Crypt and a Single Red Rose

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PHOTO Alastair Muir[/caption]

A visit to the opera is always a treat. Though I rather miss people really dressing up (the only time you might see a long, sparkly dress and a tiara these days is probably Glyndebourne), it still lends a sense of occasion and most folk at least make an effort to look smart.

English National Opera  shares the magnificent London Coliseum in St. Martin’s Lane with the English National Ballet, each creating consistently excellent productions of both classics and new work. 'English' National Opera is just that–whatever the original language, an ENO production of any opera/operetta will be sung in English. (If you want to hear opera sung au naturel, try the Royal Opera House.)

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PHOTO Alastair Muir[/caption]

Carmen is one of the great operas, with a cast-iron score where every tune is familiar to even the most opera-averse theater-goer, and over the years it’s been interpreted in practically every way imaginable.

It’s easy for this timeless classic to become a little taken for granted. The last time I saw it at the ENO, way back in the 1990s,  it was an almost jolly, kitsch affair, set in the 1950s where Escamillo the toreador arrived on stage in a purple Thunderbird dressed as a young Elvis. I enjoyed it, but now remember it as fun, popcorn opera.

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PHOTO Alastair Muir[/caption]

This latest Carmen is an altogether darker, more dangerous beast. Director Calixto Bieto has returned the story’s raw energy, violence and above all, lust by placing it within a period of unrest many remember with discomfort–Spain, in the 1970s.

I found myself actively nervous of the sheer number of the soldiers in the chorus, and concerned for the tough-looking but vulnerable women servicing them. Though initially rattling, Justina Gringyte’s Carmen's desperate life choices somehow matched their desolate end. If her actual demise felt a little perfunctory, perhaps its very banality was, in its own way, most shocking of all.

It's not a Carmen for people who like their opera pretty, but as visceral gut-wrenchers go, this one will have you thinking as well as humming on your way out. There are just nine performances left, on various dates up to July 15, but it will be broadcast live at various cinemas throughout the UK as part of the ENO Screen project on July 1.

Talking of screened performances, this is a growing trend over here, especially at the smaller, slightly funkier Picturehouse chain of cinemas. Although often sporting more than one screen, Picturehouses are more likely to be original 1920s/30s cinemas, refurbished and re-loved for a twenty-first century audience.

They are found in towns all over the country and if you're a serious film-addict or in the country for a longer periods of time it's worth actually joining - their membership deal is almost impossible not to profit from and is transferable across all their cinemas. They often carry live performances of theatre, opera, concerts and even big televised events from New York's Met to the Eurovision Song Contest. I've been a member myself for the past ten years.

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PHOTO Alastair Muir[/caption]

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© Grant Smith 2004[/caption]

But back to Carmen! The Coliseum Theater, where it is being performed, was refurbished a few years ago. Built in 1910 by famous theatrical architect Frank Matcham, its art nouveau splendour is best enjoyed during a golden evening, just as the sun sets, now that the lights of its revolving sphere once again glitter and turn. Do look up, it's beautiful–but don't think that's the only thing to enjoy on St. Martin’s Lane.

A little further down the road on the corner of St Martin's Lane and Chandos Street, the unexciting-looking Chandos pub, has a lovely secret–look right up at the top to see a life-size cooper quietly beating at his barrel above the traffic. I have no idea why–the pub used to be called the Bull’s Head, not the Cooper’s Arms–but hey, it’s a fun little London quirk missed by 99% of visitors. The pub, by the way, is a decent, Sam Smiths alehouse. If you need to meet people, arrange to rendezvous upstairs; it’s a little quieter with comfy chairs and traditional decor. Downstairs can get crowded, though as with all pubs these days, it's often worth ploughing through the smokers outside to find relative quiet indoors.

Up the other way, there’s a marvellous little gem you may have passed by and not even noticed. See anything odd here?

No? How about this? Click on the pic to enlarge. See next to the "Shoe Master" sign?

Nothing? Fair enough. Many locals don’t know Goodwin’s Court exists.

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PHOTO Sandra Lawrence[/caption]

Running between St Martin’s Lane and Bedfordbury, this tiny passageway was once known as Fishers Alley and, built around 1690, is one of the oldest streets around.

The little bow-fronted windows, polished door knockers and gas lamps are a delight and, if you’re traveling with small children, you can impress them by knowing it’s the rumored inspiration for J. K. Rowling’s Diagon Alley in the Harry Potter books (though some cite nearby Cecil Court as the putative wizards' shopping mall, also worth a look). Take a moment to walk its 25-odd yards to experience a little piece of old Westminster.

If you still can't find it, it’s squeezed in between 55 and 56 St. Martin’s Lane, or next door to that old cobbler’s shop in Bedfordbury. Just inside, at the Bedfordbury end, are two wonderful doorways, with knockers so old they’ve virtually worn away.

Oddly, Goodwin's Court is not the narrowest alley in St Martin’s Lane. Prize for that goes to Brydges Place, a few doors down from the Coliseum. It may be the narrowest alley in London, where just one person can walk down it at once, but it still manages to sport a pub once frequented by Dickens, the Marquis of Granby (though to be honest, the Chandos Street entrance is less of a squash).

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The magnificent Georgian church of St Martin in the Fields[/caption]

A few steps further down from all of this, fronting onto Trafalgar Square, lies the magnificent St Martin’s in the Fields church .

It’s a long time since St Martins knew any fields of course, but that doesn't stop it being wonderful on many counts. Firstly, it’s a fantastic church. The current building is from the early 1720s though the site has seen religious activity since Roman times.

My favourite bit of it is actually modern–the stunning East Window, a contemporary interpretation of Jacob’s Ladder by Shirazeh Houshiary and Pip Horne; equally enjoyable whether seen from inside or outside, especially by night.

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Part of the joy of a recital is the fabulous East Window © LIAM BAILEY 2012[/caption]

Many visitors, however, know St Martin’s for its other ‘secret’. The Café downstairs in the Crypt used to be a clandestine gem where you clambered down stone steps on the south side to a café sequestered among Georgian vaulted ceilings and ancient medieval tombstones and renowned for hearty soups and splendid cakes.

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Less secretive? Perhaps. Yet still a find with its ceilings and cakes.[/caption]

If you’ve visited recently and panicked that those steps are now 'closed', make your way to the other side where a brand new glass elevator will whisk you below to a refurbished St Martins. It may be less of a secret now but worry not. The vaults and memorials, soup and cake are still there, it’s all just a whole lot more comfy than it used to be.

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The fabulous - if no longer secret - entrance to the Crypt[/caption]

The church is well known for its superb program of music, hosting classical recitals in the church itself Thursday to Saturday and nationally-famous jazz nights in the café on a Wednesday evening.

If you’re visiting in the next week or so, try...

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The Talbot House Rose[/caption]

The Knollys Rose Ceremony

11th June 2015

Perhaps you'll remember from the print column a year or so back, my fascination with bizarre City of London traditions, especially the concept of Quit Rents–symbolic rents for land, services or privileges that remain despite their original purposes often being long forgotten.

The Knollys Rose Ceremony is one of the prettiest.

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Plucking the Knollys Rose. Photo: All Hallows By the Tower[/caption]

Back in 1381 Sir Robert Knollys was away at war, fighting with John of Gaunt. While he was away, however, his wife became increasingly annoyed with her next-door neighbour whose constant grain-threshing sent clouds of dust into her house. Eventually she was so cross she bought the land and created a rose garden there. She then built a footbridge so she could get to her garden without treading in the mud of the London streets. Unfortunately, she had failed to seek the medieval equivalent of planning permission.

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Parading the rose to Mansion House. Photo: All Hallows by the Tower[/caption]

The fine was a single red rose, to be paid to the Lord Mayor on an annual basis. The footbridge was demolished years ago, but everyone enjoyed the ceremony so much it continues today, organised by the Worshipful Company of Watermen and Lightermen.

It's a great honour to have 'your' variety of rose chosen to be plucked and paraded through the streets on the altar cushion of All Hallows by the Tower church.

This year it's a new bloom, the Talbot House Rose, commemorating the work of First World War army chaplains Neville Talbot and Philip 'Tubby' Clayton who opened a club, Talbot House for Allied soldiers in Belgium in 1915, where every serviceman was  welcome, regardless of rank. Perhaps unsurprizingly, the rose is poppy-like in appearance.

They'll be cutting the Talbot Rose in Seething Lane, then processing through the streets to Mansion House. I'm not told exactly where it starts, but my guess will be if you get to All Hallows by the Tower just before 11.00, you'll see folk who will be able to direct you across the road to Seething Lane.

11.00 approx. – Procession begins through the streets of the City.

11.30 approx. – Arrive at Mansion House

Like so many city ceremonies, the rose's formal presentation to the Lord Mayor takes place behind closed doors, but the procession is open to all, and well worth experiencing as one of the nuttiest of London's many bizarre events.