Open Rehearsal

Today was my birthday, so Bob took me on a daytrip for a treat! Okay, not really, but we did the next best thing--had a two-course fika at our favourite bit of Scandinavia in London: Nordic Bakery. The place is more crowded every time we're there, which is nice since the staff, food, and coffee are always fantastic, so they deserve to be packed! I had a delicious egg and anchovy sandwich

and finished with a coffee and a rhubarb cake (which came with an I-want-to-lick-the-plate delicious side of vanilla cream that perfectly balanced the tangy cake). Nordic Bakery does sweets exceedingly well, and everything we've tried so far has been textured, flavourful, delicious, and super-fresh. They were baking a new batch of cinnamon buns while we were there and if we weren't already having dessert, the smell would have got us back to the counter for some warm treats. Wandering south of the Thames, I noticed a new construction-site mural across from a primary school--I especially enjoyed this winter scene:
We arrived at our destination, Henry Wood Hall, just in time for the break--today's event was courtesy of Open Rehearsal, a wonderful opportunity for the public to sit in on dance, music, and theatre rehearsals (for free), usually for shows that are performed (definitely not for free) later that night or week. Today was the last day of Open Rehearsal and we came to hear the London Philharmonic Orchestra perform Beethoven and Shostakovich. When we entered the hall, the performers were just trickling back in to resume rehearsal,
and after working for ninety minutes, the conductor, Kurt Masur (on the far left, putting on his jacket), thanked the orchestra and everyone started making their way out.
Sitting in on a rehearsal was interesting and strange. It felt wrong not to applaud afterward, especially since we had really enjoyed the music, but no one made a sound. In fact, the conductor and performers didn't acknowledge us (many of the conductor's comments to the orchestra were inaudible to the audience) and we didn't acknowledge them. At times, it was a bit uncomfortable to witness the rehearsal process (usually when the conductor made comments like "Don't do that!" and "That's just lazy playing!"), but for the most part, the directions in which the conductor asked for the performance to change at various key points in the pieces were insightful and fascinating to witness. We left the beautiful hall and peered into the lovely residents-only garden, which I later found out contains one of the oldest outdoor statues in London:
Trinity Church Square (whose sign is the first I've seen that designates its previous name with the word "late") is a striking Georgian square, a residential, traffic-free oasis in an area laden with busy thoroughfares.We walked up to London Bridge Station, a place where we've been many, many times, but somehow we'd never approached it from this exact way before--and wouldn't you know it, we ended up seeing something new! As we turned this corner, I told Bob that I was feeling a bit nauseous, and when he asked why, I told him to look straight ahead:
The undulating mesh was a bit hypnotising and covered an entire side of Guy's Hospital, just behind the station. Immediately in front of this particular entrance, a stretch of glass displays the interior mechanics of the hospital for all to see--perhaps an appropriate metaphor for hospitals as places where human interiors are the focus!