My review is up at Musical Pointers.
Bonus commentary on the audience interruption – quite the oddest outburst I’ve seen at a concert. Basically, Evan’s piece starts very quietly. Unfortunately, Shoreditch Church has some very creaky pews, and is susceptible to outside noise from police sirens etc, so the piece was already a little interrupted. But still, two guys started whispering to one another, pretty audibly, and the chap sat next to them knocked one of them on the arm and told him to “shush”. At which point Whisperer A starts to exclaim (at shrill volume now), “Don’t hit me! He hit me! Did you see that? Don’t you hit me!” (ad nauseam histrionicam). Whisperer B stands up, laughing, “I’m sorry, I’ve had enough of this, I’m going”. Whisperer A agrees – “He hit me!” (like you’re the one suffering here, mate). A and B exit in the manner of two-year-olds, stamping feet and slamming doors as they go.
Evan Johnson: packing more punch-ups than Stravinsky.
The Rambler 
Unreal. I went to the U.S. Open golf tournament this past weekend and crowds of thousands of people managed to be stone silent when players were putting –I mean, so quiet the only sounds you could hear were the waves from the nearby ocean, the dirigible overhead and the power generators for the TV cameras– and yet those two pillocks couldn’t manage to shut their effing cake holes at something where staying quiet should be a given.
How rude! Mind you, we are not immune to interruptions in the middle of a service (usually as a result of the Dean’s wife having rather too much to drink!)