Dr Johnson’s House


It’s a sad fact that life as a rock’n’roll harpist (well, electronica/folky/Steampunk harpist) doesn’t exactly pay the bills. Decent paid gigs are few and far between, and once we’ve split the fee between 6 (Sunday Driver) or 5 of us (Sunday Driver), it doesn’t exactly keep me in harp strings.

So I do weddings and functions, as well as a day job. Luckily, I really enjoy both. Except possibly the posh party where I ended up playing on a compost heap and someone peed on my harp covers that I’d stashed in the bushes…

I digress. Last week I was booked to play at Dr Johnson’s house – he of the first ever dictionary and infamous Blackadder epidsode – for a corporate function. I’ve never visited the place, which has recently been refurbished, and it was fascinating. It was also very nerve-wracking as they are terrified of anyone damaging anything – I had to get a hunky waiter to help me carry the harp up the narrow, winding stairs without smacking it on the perilously low beams.

It was a lovely evening, though very hot. The house is beautiful, and filled with wonderful things, and the area around it is true Olde London (apart from the shiny new bits, obviously…).

I took a couple of pictures while I was there. But there was a proper photographer, Rick Bronks of Satureyes. Hopefully he’ll send me a few pics – photographers always seem drawn to the harp for some reason.

The infamous Kitty Fisher, presumably of nursery rhyme fame

Thanks to Sasha Frieze for the booking. If you’re really interested, you can follow Dr Johnson’s House on Twitter, as well as Rick the photographer or even me. Woo!

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