London tut

I spent much of the day today not knowing if I was sweating or covered in rain water. It was muggy in the extreme, everything smelt of wet dog, my suit got soaked through, and the world seemed to be in a very bad mood. You could see everyone getting particularly frustrated with each other on the tube. The London Underground is not air-conditioned like its New York counterpart, and it gets very hot down there. I’m told there are now species which have evolved in those darkened tunnels which you’ll find nowhere else in the world. I think I’m right in saying it’s the only place in the UK where you find scorpions. That might be an urban myth before anyone starts to panic...

I’ve seldom heard as many London “tuts” as I heard today. You know the London tut? We specifically do it to people who don’t know the etiquette of our city. Someone will inadvertently stand on the left hand side of the escalator so we give them a London tut. Someone pauses for a moment before getting onto an escalator, because he or she is slightly wary: We tut. Someone stands too near the door on a lift and the door doesn’t shut. Tut. We hear that a train is delayed because there’s a suspicious package at Bank. Tut. Person under a train? Tut. Terrorist attack? Tut... You can put so much feeling into a tut. Sometimes if you do it to someone’s back and they turn around, you can smile sweetly. Usually you scowl. Other Londoners look at you proudly. “Yes, that behaviour definitely deserved a tut. If you hadn’t done it, I’d’ve had your back!”

I went to the amazing Wilton’s Music Hall today. It’s a stunningly beautiful building. For those who don’t know it, it’s one of, I think, three surviving Victorian music halls in the UK. One of the others is the Leeds City Varieties, which is where Brass premiered.

They’re amazingly intimate spaces, with wonderful acoustics and interesting stages. The one in Leeds still has its original passarale, which is a little walk way extending from the stage into the audience. But whilst Leeds is beautifully opulent with gold fittings and wonderful seats, upholstered in the same red velvet material as its giant curtain, the Wilton’s Music Hall is exactly as it was found, all shabby chic, with plaster tastefully falling off the rag-washed walls. It’s absolutely brilliant.

I was allowed to stick my head into the space, as a group of actors were teching a show, and I couldn’t believe how atmospheric it was. It is steeped in authenticity. You could put anything on that stage with a little bit of lighting, and it would look perfect. I felt ashamed never to have been there before, but excited to be discovering it.