THE RUSH HOUR, DEATH AND MADNESS

It was the rush hour at Victoria. I saw this guy with a huge case, struggling down the stairs. Now the double bass, because that’s what it was, has always struck me as absurdly cumbersome.

A few minutes later I was standing in the tube and saw this poem by John Fuller that I loved. The description of a player wrestling with the awkward instrument are splendidly described for sure  but it’s the description of the sound of a double bass that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

I’m still thinking of the “growth of tree roots” – deep, deep below ground.

Concerto for Double Bass

He is a drunk leaning companionably
Around a lamp post or doing up
With intermittent concentration
Another drunk's coat.

He is a polite but devoted Valentino,
Cheek to cheek, forgetting the next step.
He is feeling the pulse of the fat lady
Or cutting her in half.

But close your eyes and it is sunset
At the edge of the world. It is the language
Of dolphins, the growth of tree-roots,
The heart-beat slowing down.

Now is it me or is it winter that spreads intimations of mortality with the icy sound of the violin in the Winter section of Vivaldi’s  Four Seasons?

Then I discover there’s a new exhibition in London. It’s called “ Death: A Self-Portrait” at the Wellcome Foundation….a bit unsettling to find a trust devoted to medical science being so morbid but there you are.
Frans Francken the younger’s “Young Death playing the violin” is shown. As my mother aged 93 when dying and finding the process dispiriting said in feisty tones:

“Well if this is dying you can keep it.”

I felt the same about Frans’ picture.

What is that rich merchant saying …words to the effect of “oh bugger” I imagine.

And, finally, a moment of insanity owing to a piano last week.

I was at a charity dinner sitting near someone who leaned across his voice competing with the pianist. He engaged me in conversation about the evening which he said he was enjoying. I could barely hear him but then he said:

“Normally of course I hate masturbating”

I looked at him in mystification…why on earth was he saying this?

I suddenly realised he was talking about mass catering not masturbating…..

I think I’ll stick to TV dinners and Vanhal’s concerto in D major, in future. Try it – it’s like sunset at the edge of the world.