The past week seems to have gone in a minute. On Saturday we shopped as normal, then in the evening Tat and went to hear Ensemble  Gombert at Xavier chapel -- a wonderful concert finishing with yet another performance of "Singet".
 
After lunch at Mum's, P&B and I went to a sing-through of "The Hive", an opera by Nick Vines to a libretto by Sam Sejavka. B put his finger on it when he said that nothing happened; there was no dramatic impetus to the work. I found the music very uninteresting, though came away impressed by the performances given by the singers. In the end I'm not very interested in the fact that Rupert Brooke may have died from a mosquito bite, rather than in action.
 
Walked in to town this afternoon along the river; it's a nice distance and must be good for me.