Boom Boom

The air is heavy with burnt gunpowder tonight, and that's thanks to Guy Fawkes, who tried to blow up the House of Lords and James I four-hundred-and-three years ago today.  It was all very dramatic -- the authorities allegedly snatched him just as he was about to set torch to powder in Parliament's cellar -- and Fawkes and his cronies were hanged, drawn, and quartered for his efforts.  After being tortured, of course.  But their infamy lives on, and is commemorated by the thousands of low-grade munitions that are set off in gardens and parks across London.  A few of my neighbours got in on the act, which was nice of them, and at 8:30 or so I had the distinct feeling that I was in Beirut sometime in the mid-80s. 
The pyrotechnics have now subsided, but only temporarily.  A small section of the city will come a-crackle next Tuesday, when Henning Kraggerud takes to the Wigmore stage to play violin sonatas by Mozart, Franck, and Grieg.  For those of you who've never heard the Noregian play, now's your chance.  Programme and ticket info can be found here.  Ka-Blammo!!