Trio, triiii-o…

Last night I went to the most fabulous concert at the Wigmore Hall, which is one of my favourite concert venues in London. The inside is quite exquisite and it’s also small so you feel like you really get to ‘see’ the concert.

The Royal Festival Hall comes a close second, mainly because of the fabulously retro carpet, which is oh-so-me. Onion-Soup-Mate might not agree with me on the latter though as she was once left traumatised by a particularly long and unusual Tangerine Dream concert that my Pa and I dragged her to. Had she not have been so polite, I think she would have run, screaming from the building.

Anyway, I’m on the mailing list for the Wigmore Hall and a few weeks ago I got an email informing me that for the next two hours tickets were half price. Fabulous, I thought and visited their website immediately.

And this is where I must confess to having a rather blonde moment…

*blush

I’m not even sure I should admit to it actually – only The Writer and The Rents know about it – but in all truth, I still think it was an easy thing to misunderstand.

If I say Piano Trio what do you visualise? If like me, you thought it was three pianos, you’re wrong. But, in the short time that I thought it was three pianos, I got really excited. Three pianos I could deafinitely hear and how unique that would be, too. Wasn’t Beethoven forward-thinking for his time, I thought to myself…

and that’s where alarm bells started to ring. A quick Google revealed that a Piano Trio is usually a piano, violin and cello… So why’s it called a piano trio then?

This was still good enough for me – I always like to see things by fellow deafy Beethoven and I reckoned that it would only be the violin I wouldn’t be able to hear. So I booked my ticket.

And, it was absolutely marvellous! I couldn’t hear the violin at all, but the cello was beautiful and there was such a wonderful mix of soulful slow movements and lively and loud quick movements that I honestly felt as though I had heard the whole thing and I almost forgot I was deaf.

In the interval I got chatting to an American lady who comes to London for two months every year just to go to concerts – she’d already been to six this week and happily reeled off her forthcoming ones.

It was quite inspiring – if a little bonkers – that this woman spends her whole life at concerts… perhaps I should stop hankering after a holiday in the sun and take a holiday in London instead.