The Cathedral's French evening

Charles Russell were sponsoring the City of London Sinfonia's concert in Gloucester Cathedral last evening: we were invited to go along to represent them. So, we had seats on pole position, and even a free interval drink - though we had to scrummage for that.

The programme was all French. Poulenc's Organ Concerto and Gloria were both new to me: I preferred the latter, particularly in light of Elizabeth Watts' contribution. She also shone in the Fauré Requiem - and the combined choirs (nearly 150 strong) sounded terrific.

We emerged into the warm gloaming, with a crescent moon over College Green.

Who's the boss?

We had planned a picnic in Imperial Gardens to go with our four tickets for the Swingle Singers this evening, but the tickets have gone in the bin. Our guests preferred a cosy stretched out supper in our sitting-room while we watched Murray struggle through his tennis semi-final: nail-biting stuff as always, as he bids to win the Wimbledon men's title. Singles, not Swingles therefore.

When the match was eventually done and dusted, some of us got in the car for the other half of the curious cultural double bill for which we had booked - Poulenc's one-act opera, La Voix Humaine. Arriving a little late, we squeezed in at the back of the Parabola: it then took a while to adjust from the brutal serve and return routine we'd been watching on TV, to a stage bedroom where we listened to one end of a 40-minute long telephone conversation, sung in French to a piano accompaniment.

With the telephone now more than ever the bane of our lives, this Poulenc (written 50+ years ago) seems oddly prescient.

On our way out, a little dazed, we passed through the exhibition of Noye's Fludde props (brought from Tewkesbury after last night), and were able to admire James Mayhew's beautiful designs at close quarters.