I spent many of the weekend’s hours in the car, traversing a broad trajectory from Somerset to Sussex to London and then back, with a couple of brief stints on the tube thrown in for good measure. The weather was kind enough, though, as even the sudden downpours missed me, and I was back home in time for the Monday off, a far cry from those days when I had to go in and lecture to what would inevitably be an empty classroom.
The first leg of the weekend took me to Mayfield, recreating in miniature St. Dunstan’s journey own journey from Somerset, but in substantially less time and greater comfort, although I doubt that Dunstan had to contend with rugby fans and sci-fi devotees in costume at the M3 services back in the day. Still, Mayfield is a delight, a real gem, and I spent the afternoon listening to the Festival Chorus and getting to know the space in the church there, all in preparation for the writing of the cantata, of course.
My arrival back in London was not too late, but a day behind the wheel can be a little tiring, especially when the M25 is involved more than once, so I spent a relaxed evening doing , well, very little, if I am honest. There might have been a game or two played and there might have been a glass or two to accompany it, let’s say.
On Sunday morning I was in Hampstead where I heard reports that the first performance of the Missa Festiva went well on Easter Day. It has two more performances coming up in the coming months, one at Hampstead and the other at Mary Abbots as part of the London Festival of Contemporary Church Music, so it has done fairly well so far.
The choir at St. George’s, Southwark, also performed one of my pieces on Sunday morning, and, while I have not been associated with the building for quite a few years now, it is still good to know that some of my music is sneaking into performance there from time to time. In all then, there was a mixture of old music and ideas for that yet to be written over the weekend, a little bit of the past and just a hint of the future.