Hunt looks a big figure now he's out of office
When (he told us) he was on holiday abroad as a backbencher, and Downing Street telephoned to say the embattled Truss wanted to speak urgently to him, he assumed it was a hoax call and hung up. Literally everyone I've spoken to at Buxton who heard him was singing his praises. It made me think. Hunt, Hague, Balls, Osborne, Cameron, Milburn, Sunak, Blair, Major … these seem like big figures now that (as it were) they've gone. Were they really big — or did politics just get small?
Being 75 and no Jeremy Clarkson I was bemused to be invited to drive a Polestar 2 for a fortnight — especially when they said I didn't need to write about it. But what the heck. So, for the record, it was fun. With a range of more than 300 miles I've been driving it all over the place; we already have an EV Fiat 500 which we love; and this latest experience convinces me that EVs are here to stay: solid, quiet, easy to drive, giddying acceleration … having now tried both a small electric runabout and a serene electric family saloon, there's no way now I'll ever go back to petrol engines.
But (and it's a big but) please, please, Polestar, Tesla, all of you EV designers, stop asking us to use a tablet screen for our controls. If we want to play computer games we can do that in a lay-by, not at 70mph in the fast lane. It took both of us about 20 minutes to work out the in-car climate controls.
Away with screens! Buttons, levers, knobs, things you push, pull, slide or twist while keeping your eyes on the road are so much more intuitive. Using smartphones when driving was criminalised for a reason.
My favourite musical experience so far at Buxton has been the 'Shorts' evening: first performances of four 20-minute operas from young composers. And of these my favourite was the last, from Thanda Gumede: Tears Are Not Meant to Stay Inside, sung mostly in Zulu. I could even understand bits of the libretto without the surtitles. This was brilliant: African-influenced classical music, beautifully sung. A young black woman, isolated and lonely in the city, seeks help from what we once called a witchdoctor but now more accurately call a traditional healer who, helped by a bag of bones and relics, connects her with the world of spirits and ancestors. Connecting out, she also connects within, and is liberated. Moved as I was, I disagreed with the moral of the story. I believe that in tribal African cultures the chain of authority, the links between authority and the supernatural, the hierarchy mediating any individual's relations with the supernatural, and the fear, the cursing as well as the blessing that glues the system together, crushes the individual and incubates a collective cringe that goes with the grain of the Big Man politics poisoning Africa. But that's just my opinion; Gumede's opera, and the wonderful voices of Roberta Philip, Danielle Mahailet and Themba Mvula made me think — and, perhaps more important — made us feel.
At Buxton I enjoyed too a work by a young Leonard Bernstein, Trouble in Tahiti, set around 1950. I all but detected an early draft of There's a Place for Us from West Side Story. But a thought on the visual scene. Formica table; two-piece grey suit and tie, short-back-and-sides for the husband; colourful frock for the wife. You could time-travel that scene to 2025 and the dislocation would be noticeable only at the margins. Over what other leap in our history (1875 to 1950? 1815 to 1890?) could you, with so little adjustment, update a scene by three quarters of a century?
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