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Counting down

I’m sitting in a concert hall listening to the pre-match ritual. Harpist is tuning. Trumpeter is checking some corners. One of my fellow horn players is alone up at the back of the chair-and-stand-filled empty stage, quietly blowing some warmup notes. Ushers are checking the last chairs as players drift in and out, increasingly metamorphing from the colourful daywear to the black unity of the concert gear. Love it.

Personal views of a wordsmithing, sartorialist, horn-playing, state school Oxonian dad, rugby ref, recovering politico, and fan of vintage tailoring, Ralph Lauren style, and sharp writing.

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