No YMCA

In the week when the Arts Council caused uproar by demanding that board members of arts organisations should declare their sexual tastes, Herbert Smith held a proud reception for its LGBT Network. Fortunately no one had to tick any boxes because in the best traditions of liberality it’s not a requirement at Herbert Smith for you to be lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender (or even unknown) to be granted admission to the group. That was a good thing because the normal attenders — usually about 25 — found itself reeling as many more than 100 guests (some from other firms) made their way to indulge in champagne, great food and all bathed in a frankly camp pink glow.

Many there had decided, I suspect, to be what Vanessa Redgrave called last week “trisexuals” (maybe on the basis of try anything once) but one of the themes of the evening was the trial of coming out. I was so inspired that I nerved up to coming out myself, declaring to a rather attractive young woman that I was heterosexual. It turned out she was heterosexual, too, so that was rather nice.

Meanwhile, the star of the evening was Sir Ian McKellen, a stern critic of the Arts Council’s sexual orientation witch-hunt, who spoke about his own experiences and then absolutely enthralled, gripped, entranced and mesmerised (yes, really, all of those) by acting a scene, probably written by Shakespeare, from the play Sir Thomas More along the theme of “the stranger”. Up close and very personal it was a unique and stunning performance. I suspect the partners’ dining room at Herbert Smith will not see its like again. They should put up a plaque about it.

Woolly enough?

Personally I deplore April fool stories but I did have a sneaking admiration for the suggestion that sheep were going to graze on the roof of Eversheds’ new building — to open in about six weeks — on Cheapside. I had the pleasure of a guided tour by Cornelius Medvei, the London managing partner, who has dedicated himself over the past two years to ensuring that everything comes up to perfection (no Terminal 5 repetition, for sure). Cornelius, it must be said, scampered up the stairs to the top floor like a mountain goat leaving me bleating in his wake. But stepping out on top and strolling across the greensward to the fantastic view of St Paul’s, the City and London at large, a few sheep wandering around did not seem impossible. The new building makes a statement about Eversheds’ place in the world. A mountainous achievement.

Va-va-voom

The big one this Thursday is the International Law Office Awards in conjunction with the Association of Corporate Counsel being held in the Victoria and Albert Museum. With almost 300 present in the stupendous surroundings of the Raphael Gallery it should be a superb event. Winners will be shortlisted for the Golden Counsel Awards in June in New York. Quite an incentive to turn up.

Result

Collyer Bristow got the winner yesterday for Marco Materazzi, the Italian World Cup footballer, when he attended the High Court to hear the Daily Star apologise for alleging that he had used “vile racist abuse” against Zinédine Zidane. Instead, speculation mounted that what he called Zidane was a “trisexual” — but then who isn’t these days?

edward.fennell@yahoo.co.uk

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