 |
| Alexander Skeaping 1/5/1944-5/9/2025 |
Alexander Skeaping was probably the most alive person I’ve ever known, so when a message arrived this morning telling us there was going to be a super gathering in his honour it took a minute or two to register. A retirement maybe - but Alexander would never truly retire. Then it hit. There were happy emojis - but Celebration of Life.Alexander listed himself on X (Twitter) - where I didn’t follow him - as “freelance piano-tuner, harpsichordist, pianist, helicopter-pilot, glider-pilot, who loves travel, good food, intelligent people (esp. women!) & LIFE in general!). Could say that summed him up, but it falls far short.
We used to meet, spring and autumn, until COVID interrupted the pattern, for lunch in or near London.
Two occasions come to mind. One fourteen years ago when Flora was still alive and we met at the Bel Canto at Lancaster Gate. Alexander tuned the piano at the restaurant and the pianist was a pleasure to listen to but the real drawing card was the wait staff, all of whom were opera students. Between serving tables they acted and sang arias from popular operas like Carmen. Did feel when the bill came that we’d underwritten their careers, but definitely a meal to remember.
Then there was a meal at Roses in Kilburn. Our pick that time. Told A that it was a working man’s café (pronounced caff) but had on a Thursday the best lamb kleftiko we’d had anywhere, including the Mediterranean. In those days they only made it on a Thursday - fifteen portions so nothing frozen and no leftovers. I phoned at nine to ask them to save us three for 1:15 and they did us proud.
Got into a political discussion with a man from the next table who introduced himself as a Marxist and wanted to say that none of the UK parties had managed to prevent homelessness. We assured him that we all agreed that the new minimum wage was inadequate to survive on and then followed an exchange which could only have taken place in Britain. The man told A, probably accurately, that if he had A’s posh accent people would take his views more seriously. Then asked A what his occupation was. A answered, not untruthfully, that he was a piano tuner, though that was modestly short of the whole truth, as he tuned and supplied instruments for concerts and symphonies. And the man responded as only an Englishman could - “You don’t sound like it”. They did part as friends though, with good wishes and Facebook information.
And the helicopter pilot? Never quite got together on that one but he did suggest quite seriously that we could fly to France for coffee.
Alexander Skeaping, RIP.