Day 10: Birmingham
Nau mai
Yesterday we travelled to the midlands for a show in Birmingham.
They say the soul of the nation is contained within its hotel breakfasts. It was time for me to stop messing around with brunch restaurants and start my day with a god honest meal, something that didn’t stray too far from the colour brown. The Premier Inn’s complimentary buffet was my knight in shining food warmer trays, a spread of regional delicacies so basic and so pure that you could have found such fare at any Premier Inn over the past five hundred years. A toasted slice of bread was topped with a fried chicken’s egg and garnished with traditional brown sauce. On the side a tomato, somewhat roasted, and farmed potatoes still smarting from an interaction with the chef’s grater, crafted into delicate triangles and fried. The baker’s leftover levain had found its way into pastry rings atop the griddle and emerged as a batch of crumpets, melted butter seeping down into the nooks and crannies and orange marmalade smeared over this doughy delight. From the orchard there was a bowl of sliced fruit, and berries from the local bramble, paired with a thick yoghurt, this ancient preparation of cows’ milk and bacterial culture.
It was a stunning morning in Bristol, and we were sad to be leaving. The tour continued, though, boarding the M5 and heading towards England’s second most populous city, this former manufacturing powerhouse in the west midlands. We arrived early and immediately headed out for lunch, enjoying a chance to explore the surrounding streets of Digbeth. The old bones of this heavily industrialised neighbourhood were there to see, countless brick factory buildings and yards that are now finding new lives as restaurants, venues, and offices. Our venue stood at the confluence of two great brick railway viaducts, still fresh with the sooty smell of the industrial age.
The Duddeston Viaduct, completed but never carried trains, the fallout from a vicious railway rivalry.
We began our afternoon’s work with an easy load, wheeling everything into the dark and airconditioned main room of a former factory building with a low stage looking out over a simple concrete floor that provided simple standing room for 500. This was our seventh show and things were operating smoothly. We soundchecked and rehearsed and still had time to head outside and enjoy the sunlight.
The striking elliptical balconies of the Bird’s Custard Factory studio building.
As I walked around looking for dinner the streets were busy and the city’s nightlife began to emerge. It was all I could do to restrain myself from entering one of half a dozen night clubs that were already popping off with queues out across the footpath. Birmingham yesterday evening was blessed with a dusk that was magnificent to look at, the spectrum of blues hanging around in cobalts and indigos as the light reluctantly faded away.
There had been some time spent in rehearsal on the coordination and operation of the Recorder-Me and this crowd were thoroughly impressed when our instruments were so accurately and rapidly dispensed. They were a quiet crowd, reluctant to laugh at our meticulously crafted banter but extremely appreciative of the musical moments in the set.
I’ll leave you today in art corner with this anonymous but exceptional piece hung on the wall of our Adagio ApartHotel. Try viewing it in dark mode if you haven’t discovered this feature already!
