The Summer Cycle

Friday 4th August 2017

So it goes on, one year to the next, the radiant summer cycle, untroubled, unchanging, while beneath rage boils. Already my forthcoming 60th birthday has become a battlefield although it’s not until October; the Multis have sounded the first cry for blood, backed up, it would seem by certain unknown individuals. Genevieve Suzy, as often, is suffering from summer madness; she’s remarkably seasonal, utterly to be relied on. She blew up in the Viet Garden and wasn’t seen again until the cafe at the Buckingham Palace press view where she was coming to the boil re: lack of a traditional cream tea in that cafe. The Queen almost had to come back from Balmoral. I bought Genevieve a Royal teapot and cream jug (mezzo prix) to have in her suite at Dainty Towers. So at last the Dainty Lady TV¬† teapot drama is over. It’s almost two years since the lid of the 1940 English Chintz Royal Albert got broken and was sent to the basement to be mended, never to be seen again.

At the beginning of July Royston King took me as his guest to the new Grange Park opera at West Horsley Place. You may remember I went there in June for another reason and was desperate to get intimate with Bamber as we toured the ruined house he inherited. This new Grange Park opera is a major thing. Wasfi has built a whole new opera house. We’ve known about her since Uni days. Royston too; that’s how he got the comps plus she wants to do an opera in one of his parks. But no-one seems to have noticed the first new opera house in Britain since Glyndebourne was re-built. Wasfi is clearly aiming high. She wants another Bayreuth and may well get it. The house looks like Bayreuth. Die Walkure was given and was thrilling. The only let down was the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra. One harp just isn’t enough. But in these smaller houses the singers shrine and are fresh and joyous, not booming and strained. Royston was utterly gripped, never having seen it before. We didn’t get private confab with Wasfi. In the interval she was selling cake and didn’t seem to know us. A.N.Wilson also was sadly at sea when hailed by Royston although suitably humble: ‘I’m sure I should know you.’ ¬†Royston addressed him as ‘Sir’ and congratulated him generally on his life with great gusto. A.N.Wilson is very shy and looked as if the wind would blow him away.

Glyndebourniana as Always

Glyndebourniana as Always

The Gay Mother's Flower Bed (one of them) This Year

The Gay Mother’s Flower Bed (one of them) This Year

 

Posted Tuesday, August 8, 2017 under Adrian Edge day by day.

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