Foster the People

So, part 2 of my weekend gig plan - Foster the People at Brixton Academy. A better night than the previous on many accounts - I was going with friends, its a better venue and I didn't go in the middle of a monsoon.

First support were an American band (as were all the bands on the bill) "We Are Barbarians". As with a curious number of supports, they were hesitant to actually tell us who they were, as if it was some sort of state secret. However, in the world of pocket electronic devices we tracked down who they were via modern technology. Quite good really. Would happily go and see them on their own sometime.

We were less impressed by Mini-Mansions that followed. Not sure I agreed with all of Jenny's criticisms of the lead singer, leather trousers, curtains, arrogance and the fact that he stood to play drums. Lead guitar looked like a young Abraham Lincoln, keyboardist like a young Donny Osmond. I was actually warming to them until they did a cover of Blondie's Heart of Glass. If you can imagine a song being tortured on the rack, this was it.

So much for the hors d'oeuvres, for the main menu we had Foster the People. A new band, their debut album only came out last year, but still they sold out Brixton. Now one might question the humility of a man who names his band after himself, Mark Foster being lead singer and a decent musician too, forming Foster the People. Nice poppy indie band, but with only the one album behind them, the concert did feel a little stretched out. Not exactly slick changes between tracks, but on the plus side Mark Foster is a great front man. A good-looking bloke, but not quite good-looking enough to have justified the shrieking gaggle of girls behind me. So odiously teeny-bopper were they that the bouncers actually came to tell them to shut up. If they wanted to go to a Take That concert they should have saved up their pennies. I am quite happy to have my ears ringing from bass or feedback, but not screaming teenagers.

Another sign, in my view, of the paucity of their material (in volume rather than quality) was that they hauled on a guest for one song, Luke Pritchard of the somewhat more established The Kooks.

But they inevitably finished on their big singalong hit, Pumped Up Kicks, accompanied by plenty of glitter pumped into the audience. And we all went home happy. And tonight, I went home dry too. Bonus. And nice to have met Jenny's boyfriend - a very jolly accountant. Not, clearly, a contradiction in terms.

Bombay Bicycle Club

BBC is not just a chain of curry houses, it is also a band that have been going a few years, but have just completed their biggest tour to date. And last night I saw the last date at the Alexandra Palace.

Now I should say that I must be certifiably mad. I am nearly 50 (I guess average age of audience c20), this is not a band I know particularly well, and it was absolutely tipping it down. Of course it was. It has been ever since this drought started. Officially we must be must be enduring the wettest drought in human history.

And the night started with a suitably drippy first support, Rae Morries. Pretty girl, not a bad voice, but just her and her keyboards. And the songs were dull. Maybe she is the best thing to have come out of Blackpool since the discovery of shale gas deposits, but just about as much fun too. And a hairdo that in volume I thought had gone out in the eighties.

I was about to make similar comments about the next act, Leanne Le Havas, as she came on with just a guitar. But then she hauled in her band and actually I rather warmed to her. Better voice, more interesting songs. More personality too.

As for Bombay Bicycle Club themselves, well good in parts. At their best in the sort of jaunty guitar indie that has become the fashion recently it seems to me (see the Vaccines, Two Door Cinema Club etc), but varying into ballads, (yuk) some folky bits which could be Mumford & Sons or Fleet Foxes, with little passages where they seem to be pretending to be a heavy metal band. But they are semi-local (from Crouch End) and this is my local venue, so it seemed a good idea for a night out. And I do quite like a Different Kind of Fix (their latest album) although not quite enough to make me search out their previous two cds.

.

And then came the trudge home in the pouring rain. Cold, wet, I had to put my clothes, and shoes, on radiators to dry off. God I hate droughts.

Tomorrow night its Foster the People at Brixton. Weather forecast dry and I am meeting up with a friend for it, so hopefully a jollier night. And to be fair Brixton Academy is a better venue than the cavernous shell that is the Ally Pally.

Eltham Palace

There is a great irony with Eltham House. It has been restored, and is looked after, by English Heritage. But I rather suspect that if EH operated in the 1930s like it does now, I doubt what they are looking after would even have been built. The Palace is essentially a wonderful 1930s luxury house built on the site of the old Eltham Palace of which only the ruined 14th century hall still existed. And I doubt you would be allowed to do that now.

Eltham is a bit of a trek, but well worth it. Originally owned by a bishop (who else had the money to lavish in the early medieval period than men of the cloth?), he gave it to the Crown (let's face it, a bit of sucking up to the King was generally a good career move - Thomas a Becket take note). Richard IV built the Great Hall. Henry VIII spent much of his youth here. But it fell into disuse under the Stuarts and was downgraded to agricultural use by the 18th century. In a largely ruinous state the wealthy Courtaulds took it over as a country residence near the City in the 1930s. They left us with what is surely the finest art deco interior of any house in the Country, and the gardens are beautiful too. And architecturally the house is really clever, making great use of the medieval hall, which has a fabulous hammer beam roof. And its sentimental medieval style would have made a wonderful spot for entertaining, as it was once used in the 14th century and again in the 30s and 40s. And I think you can still hire it all out for receptions. Big ones.

 So let's take a tour.

The 1930s house is actually wedge-shaped, but with the medieval hall tacked on to one side of the wedge.
The entrance is off a turning circle occupying the space between the two sides of the wedge in front of the hall.

But let's leave the house itself for a moment and carry on to the gardens. On the right side is a nice Renaissance well with a bright red camelia next to it, along with the ruined foundations of the medieval palace.

As you turn past the old hall on the left you pass the ....squash courts. The Courtaulds liked squash, so built an art deco squash court which they tacked on the far end of the great hall. And they included a suitably muscular art deco St George in a niche at the end.

Left again and you come across a great lawn in front of the long side of the house, ie the Great Hall with one side of the wedge.

You can then walk down from the lawn to the walled garden which is in the old moat, the walls of which form the wall for the herbaceous borders.

If one turns right round this (thankfully) dry part of the moat one comes across a further very attractive formal garden with pools (the first of which sadly lacks the statue the Coutaulds inserted) and a rose garden. Too early for the roses, but then one finds the cherry trees in full bloom at the end, where the filled part of the moat starts and winds round the house.

So the water-filled part of the moat, having started (or ended) in what appears a neat pond with a fountain, then curves away like a normal moat, with fish in it but not sadly (as in the days of the Courtaulds) with Patagonian black-necked swans. All very picturesque.

Going round again one comes across the medieval bridge across the moat. They don't build bridges like this any more (not least as they don't take juggernauts very well).

Carrying on around again one finds a Japanese garden on the far side of the moat, and then lovely views of the 1930s front of the house/palace.

Lots more views on the grassy area to the front, looking particularly fine this time of year due to the magnolias and above all flowering cherry trees.

Then one comes around the rear again, with views across the spring bulbs to the Great Hall.

Then one can cross the old wooden footbridge back to the house over the walled garden.

Ok, so enough of the grounds. The house. As I say, its a remarkable art deco design. Especially the Swedish designed domed entrance hall which is the centre point of the wedge, all the other rooms feeding off it, and undoubtedly the star point ofthe design. It has, as they say, the wow factor.

These will give an idea of the opulence, the offices, boudoir, bedrooms etc.

But this only gives a hint of it. Before the war was a different world for the super rich, a world just entering modernity. Telephones just starting, recessed lighting, but still servants galore. And world travel. And a love of exotic animals. The house had a two storey cage for their pet ring-tailed lemur. And the Coutaulds sponsored expeditions. One of which was delayed as one of the team was bitten by the said ring-tailed lemur, severing an artery. Which was made worse because the poor guy was allergic to the iodine used on the wound!

So all in all, well worth a day out to south London.

And to finish with a flourish, something floral. Some very attractive flowers to photograph.