Tonight the film awards, The Golden Globes, get awarded at a glittering ceremony. I shall record the programme and watch during the day tomorrow trying to avoid any references to it in the daily paper.
In order to be up to scratch for the Golden Globes I watched 4 films on Thursday and Friday of last week.
"The Hangover" which is a Las Vegas-set comedy centred around three grooms-men who lose their about-to-be-wed buddy during their drunken misadventures, then must retrace their steps in order to find him. It is genuinely funny and beautifully directed by Tod Phillips, who keeps the lot rolling along. However the stand out performance for me was Zach Galifiankis as Alan. He is the oddball added to the quartet almost as a last minute thought and lacks all social skills both as a man and as a mate. On Several occasions he made me roar out loud. Zach also appears as one of the employees in "Up in the Air" and I spotted him immediately so how cool is that!
I then watched "Paul Blart: Mall Cop", written by and starring Kevin James as an overweight mall cop or security guard caught up in a raid in the mall. Kevin James is a very funny actor and with great sensitivity (and I loved his performance in "Hitch"). However I watched it for Jayma Mays, the feminine lead and love interest. She plays Emma, the OCD teacher in "Glee", one of my favourite TV series.
Friday I saw "Avatar" in 3D, the second highest grossing film in the history of cinema since the "Titanic". The effects and events are mid bogglingly good and no doubt James Cameron has pushed some of the technical boundaries of film making. The film itself is immersive and I happily wallowed in it for the 161 minutes of its duration. in my younger days, in sci-fi films Earth was invaded by aliens from dead planets intent on taking over ours. In "Avatar" the humans are the aliens trying to take over Pandora as they have killed off Earth. I was intrigued by the characters and the cultural references but not entirely won over by them. The idea of a disabled marine being able to inhabit the body of an avatar is magnificently evoked. The film also evoked my acrophobia on a number of occasions as mountains are suspended in the sky and the indigenous people fly dragons.
Flying was the subject of the last film, "Up in The Air". If this film doesn't win an award then there is no justice. The performances are marvellous and the direction (by Jason Reitman, responsible for "Juno")is subtle and masterful. George Clooney plays Ryan Bingham, who flies ten million air miles criss crossing America laying off the workforce on behalf of cowardly bosses. Clooney is magnificent - he uses to tics or techniques - he just delivers a character who you understand every moment he is on the screen. I am amazed Vera Farmiga, who plays Ales, "Just think of me as you, but with a vagina", is not nominated as she gives a performance that is as great and as subtle as that of Clooney. The other female is Anne Kendrick as Natalie, a green horn to whom he shows the ropes and his system. She just adds to the magic of a great film!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Annual Service
The Best Beloved got her drive and path cleared. We did in fact test drive both cars today despite the pretty poor condition of the hill in our Grove. It appears I am booked in for the annual service of our Focus tomorrow morning at 0830 in Chichester. It was a simple and telling answer to my simple query about why we had to clear the drive!
I also walked up to the nearest Homebase and bought a few bird feeders for the garden. Instantly we were visited by our robin and a tit, so making my expedition worthwhile almost immediately. I would like to do my bit for the local wildlife and was prompted by a snippet on television last night. I think our robin lives in the large fir tree at the bottom of our garden - in fact I think you could do an entire wildlife programme based just on that tree. Apparently robins will forego their territoriality in these dreadful winter circumstances, which shows other species are prompted to acts of goodwill to others when there is snow on the ground.
Pompey are play away at Coventry tonight and I wish them well but don't mind if they lose as they can then concentrate on Premier League survival. I shall be supporting them at the home game against Birmingham on Saturday. I am in support of the protests as they seem to have rattled the ownership and top management.
I am now researching short stories to find material for the adult Tale Tellers at the Southdowns Literary Festival. We each plan to do a 20 minute story in a 45 minute session. It will be interesting to work out the technique for starting (and finishing) a storytelling session with adults - we are quite expert now when working with children.
Quote from Albert Camus I like: "Don't walk in front of me as I may not follow; Don't walk behind me as I may not lead: Walk beside me and be my friend."
I also walked up to the nearest Homebase and bought a few bird feeders for the garden. Instantly we were visited by our robin and a tit, so making my expedition worthwhile almost immediately. I would like to do my bit for the local wildlife and was prompted by a snippet on television last night. I think our robin lives in the large fir tree at the bottom of our garden - in fact I think you could do an entire wildlife programme based just on that tree. Apparently robins will forego their territoriality in these dreadful winter circumstances, which shows other species are prompted to acts of goodwill to others when there is snow on the ground.
Pompey are play away at Coventry tonight and I wish them well but don't mind if they lose as they can then concentrate on Premier League survival. I shall be supporting them at the home game against Birmingham on Saturday. I am in support of the protests as they seem to have rattled the ownership and top management.
I am now researching short stories to find material for the adult Tale Tellers at the Southdowns Literary Festival. We each plan to do a 20 minute story in a 45 minute session. It will be interesting to work out the technique for starting (and finishing) a storytelling session with adults - we are quite expert now when working with children.
Quote from Albert Camus I like: "Don't walk in front of me as I may not follow; Don't walk behind me as I may not lead: Walk beside me and be my friend."
Monday, January 11, 2010
Path clearing and roadworks
The Best Beloved wants to clear our drive or at least a path from front door to pavement and around the two immobilised cars. My question was simple:"Why?"
Was she expecting a sudden influx of visitors? Was she intending to use the cars? We have been visited by the kids and had a lovely meal and lots of fun playing charades (The Best Beloved's rendition of "Transformers 2; Revenge of the Fallen" was incredibly funny as revenge is not a concept she deals in and her sub-textual delivery was beautiful and wondrously naive. I, on the other hand, could do 'revenge' and 'petty spite' easily). However they walked and so found no hardship crossing our small drive. We have a sign on the front door dissuading cold callers (a particularly apt expression in this seasonal weather). The Best Beloved has almost recovered fully from her hamstring problem, exacerbated by a fall in the drive early in the Christmas holiday. Therefore, we are able to walk everywhere we want to go. If necessary and are using the shopping trolley we will catch bus into Havant and back. In order to visit her mother, the Best Beloved will use two buses. The cars are redundant at the moment and the hill that is our Grove is ungritted and looks treacherous for the rare vehicle on the move. The milkman still arrives , bless his warm woollen socks, and leaves our order.
The other point I made was that once you clear the path and drive you then have to keep it clear as it can become a liability. Perhaps it was all those decades living in Bradford that has made me a bit of a curmudgeon and resistant to the charms of snow? I know Lord Adonis has spoken up in defence of common sense and community spirit to encourage people to clear their frontages despite council warnings of liability. My worry is that you can create skating rinks rather than welcoming paths. You do need to put something down on the cleared surfaces. I am starting to worry about all this salt we have sprayed on the roads - where will it all go when the thaw comes? Won't it eventually get washed somewhere? I read that in Sweden they use wetted sand. Admittedly it will still have to go somewhere when it thaws but we have a supply of sand in Britain we don't need to import expensive salt. Just a thought!
On Mondays I get the Daily Telegraph for the Sports Supplement as I was once advised it was one of the best. Useless today as sport has been so adversely affected by the weather except in South Africa where the England cricket team seems particularly adept at rearguard actions. Anyway I was forced as a result to read the paper more than is my usual wont. I was delighted to see the Donmar "Hamlet" has made £6 million on Broadway. I was also reminded that I was born in the winter of 1947 although my memories are very vague! I read the column by Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London. His topic was the roadworks constantly disrupting London life and costing Londoners about £1 billion per year. In the Thatcher era the utilities were given quite amazing powers to dig up the road; this was an attempt to help the new privatised utility companies. Unfortunately the number of companies and services able to use these powers now number 100. London is apparently pioneering a time limited permit system in order to speed up the 300,000 holes dug annually in London streets. Johnson's suggestion is lane rental so the companies are charged for the time spent digging up roads. Naturally the utility companies say this will add to their costs which will be passed on to the consumer. However Johnson goes on to say it might encourage new technology, the equivalent of keyhole surgery and angioplasties in road-excavation. He also suggests the round the clock working of Singapore and the plating over the holes as used in New York.
I was much heartened by hearing that my old school went back to work today. What is the point of being retired if everyone is staying at home? I am much uplifted by the tales of young people making every effort to get into work. I once was much driven by the protestant work ethic instilled into me by my grandmother in particular - I wonder what happened to it? Do I need a shovel or a spade?
Was she expecting a sudden influx of visitors? Was she intending to use the cars? We have been visited by the kids and had a lovely meal and lots of fun playing charades (The Best Beloved's rendition of "Transformers 2; Revenge of the Fallen" was incredibly funny as revenge is not a concept she deals in and her sub-textual delivery was beautiful and wondrously naive. I, on the other hand, could do 'revenge' and 'petty spite' easily). However they walked and so found no hardship crossing our small drive. We have a sign on the front door dissuading cold callers (a particularly apt expression in this seasonal weather). The Best Beloved has almost recovered fully from her hamstring problem, exacerbated by a fall in the drive early in the Christmas holiday. Therefore, we are able to walk everywhere we want to go. If necessary and are using the shopping trolley we will catch bus into Havant and back. In order to visit her mother, the Best Beloved will use two buses. The cars are redundant at the moment and the hill that is our Grove is ungritted and looks treacherous for the rare vehicle on the move. The milkman still arrives , bless his warm woollen socks, and leaves our order.
The other point I made was that once you clear the path and drive you then have to keep it clear as it can become a liability. Perhaps it was all those decades living in Bradford that has made me a bit of a curmudgeon and resistant to the charms of snow? I know Lord Adonis has spoken up in defence of common sense and community spirit to encourage people to clear their frontages despite council warnings of liability. My worry is that you can create skating rinks rather than welcoming paths. You do need to put something down on the cleared surfaces. I am starting to worry about all this salt we have sprayed on the roads - where will it all go when the thaw comes? Won't it eventually get washed somewhere? I read that in Sweden they use wetted sand. Admittedly it will still have to go somewhere when it thaws but we have a supply of sand in Britain we don't need to import expensive salt. Just a thought!
On Mondays I get the Daily Telegraph for the Sports Supplement as I was once advised it was one of the best. Useless today as sport has been so adversely affected by the weather except in South Africa where the England cricket team seems particularly adept at rearguard actions. Anyway I was forced as a result to read the paper more than is my usual wont. I was delighted to see the Donmar "Hamlet" has made £6 million on Broadway. I was also reminded that I was born in the winter of 1947 although my memories are very vague! I read the column by Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London. His topic was the roadworks constantly disrupting London life and costing Londoners about £1 billion per year. In the Thatcher era the utilities were given quite amazing powers to dig up the road; this was an attempt to help the new privatised utility companies. Unfortunately the number of companies and services able to use these powers now number 100. London is apparently pioneering a time limited permit system in order to speed up the 300,000 holes dug annually in London streets. Johnson's suggestion is lane rental so the companies are charged for the time spent digging up roads. Naturally the utility companies say this will add to their costs which will be passed on to the consumer. However Johnson goes on to say it might encourage new technology, the equivalent of keyhole surgery and angioplasties in road-excavation. He also suggests the round the clock working of Singapore and the plating over the holes as used in New York.
I was much heartened by hearing that my old school went back to work today. What is the point of being retired if everyone is staying at home? I am much uplifted by the tales of young people making every effort to get into work. I once was much driven by the protestant work ethic instilled into me by my grandmother in particular - I wonder what happened to it? Do I need a shovel or a spade?
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Some sort of resolution
I am often impressed by the other blogs I read and of course feel I have to follow suit. I still use Pie Corbett as my educational muse: "imitate, imitate,imitate,imitate,imitate; innovate,innovate,innovate; invent."
So. in full imitation mode, I have decided to eschew the usual form of resolutions and also to limit myself to three, although the second is an extended one.
(1) Take more risks and try to avoid staying so comfortably within my comfort zone.Idle and indolent are perfect adjectives for me and only very rarely am I seized by the need to burst into action. I don't think at this stage in my life I am suddenly going to become a thrusting, dynamic sort of person. However if offered options I will try to take the one that is outside my comfort zone and requires more effort on my part. I love taking part in Bench productions but do tend to end up putting a couple of months aside to do one and putting the rest of my life on hold while I do it. I have worked out that if I do small scale Bench productions rather than the major ones I can do more rather than less. It also means I have created more space to respond to other offers and indeed to come up with ideas and projects of my own. We are continuing with our Tale Tellers series of stories for children at the Arts Centre in the spring months. We are also going to use the Southdowns Literary Festival as a guinea pig venue for taking our storytelling to adults. This has already involved starting to look at short stories with a view to turning them into stories to be told rather than read. There is a possibility of a monologue that would certainly stretch this old actor. I will also take part in Totton if asked and in the Supernova event planned for September, perhaps even writing and directing if I can stir my stumps in plenty of time.
(2)See more cinema (weekly), read a book per week and see more theatre (monthly). These are things I enjoy thoroughly and are therefore no hardship upon which to base a resolution. However they still count as guilty pleasures and I can be easily deferred by pointing out what I should be doing instead. I think I am going to have to allocate a sort of Orange Wednesday approach. The Best Beloved is forever saying I must be more flexible but that does mean I usually end up not doing anything. She also sometimes sidetracks me by saying something like "Oh I want to see that film as well!" but we then spend the rest of the week trying to work out how to fit it in and the film has dropped out of the cinema schedules. This is my fault really, not hers, I must say "I am going to see it on Wednesday at 1240. Are you able to come?" Please note the lovely daytime viewing, which I love. Theatre is more difficult because it is more expensive and is usually at a distance, i.e. London. However, I want to see Mark Haddon's "Polar Bears" at the Donmar. Book reading I think I can fit in if I get started at the beginning of a week and don't spend too much time on the computer!
(3) More walking is needed.
So. in full imitation mode, I have decided to eschew the usual form of resolutions and also to limit myself to three, although the second is an extended one.
(1) Take more risks and try to avoid staying so comfortably within my comfort zone.Idle and indolent are perfect adjectives for me and only very rarely am I seized by the need to burst into action. I don't think at this stage in my life I am suddenly going to become a thrusting, dynamic sort of person. However if offered options I will try to take the one that is outside my comfort zone and requires more effort on my part. I love taking part in Bench productions but do tend to end up putting a couple of months aside to do one and putting the rest of my life on hold while I do it. I have worked out that if I do small scale Bench productions rather than the major ones I can do more rather than less. It also means I have created more space to respond to other offers and indeed to come up with ideas and projects of my own. We are continuing with our Tale Tellers series of stories for children at the Arts Centre in the spring months. We are also going to use the Southdowns Literary Festival as a guinea pig venue for taking our storytelling to adults. This has already involved starting to look at short stories with a view to turning them into stories to be told rather than read. There is a possibility of a monologue that would certainly stretch this old actor. I will also take part in Totton if asked and in the Supernova event planned for September, perhaps even writing and directing if I can stir my stumps in plenty of time.
(2)See more cinema (weekly), read a book per week and see more theatre (monthly). These are things I enjoy thoroughly and are therefore no hardship upon which to base a resolution. However they still count as guilty pleasures and I can be easily deferred by pointing out what I should be doing instead. I think I am going to have to allocate a sort of Orange Wednesday approach. The Best Beloved is forever saying I must be more flexible but that does mean I usually end up not doing anything. She also sometimes sidetracks me by saying something like "Oh I want to see that film as well!" but we then spend the rest of the week trying to work out how to fit it in and the film has dropped out of the cinema schedules. This is my fault really, not hers, I must say "I am going to see it on Wednesday at 1240. Are you able to come?" Please note the lovely daytime viewing, which I love. Theatre is more difficult because it is more expensive and is usually at a distance, i.e. London. However, I want to see Mark Haddon's "Polar Bears" at the Donmar. Book reading I think I can fit in if I get started at the beginning of a week and don't spend too much time on the computer!
(3) More walking is needed.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Catching up on Cinema
Now the bad weather has officially arrived I have attempted to catch up on my cinema viewing. Indeed one Thursday I attempted to see all three of the films on my list in one go but couldn't get the timing right. I had to settle for two that day and the third the following day. I could have fitted them all in the one day if I had been willing to go into the evening but that would have meant gaps outside the theatre trying to get fed and what have you. I saw "Me and Orson Welles" and "Harry Brown" together and "2012" the next day. If I were going to rate the films in order of quality that would probably be the same order, although all three were very entertaining.
"Me and Orson Welles" stars Zac Efron of "High School Musical" fame as a young student who gets himself into the 1930 Mercury Theatre production of "Julius Caesar" by the then 22 year old Orson, already an acclaimed genius. This was the first film my agent offered me an extra part in but it was before I retired officially so I couldn't take the opportunity offered. The film was filmed here in the UK and particularly in the Isle of Man, although the result on the screen looks authentically American. Richard Linklater as director obviously loved the material and obviously admires Orson Welles. In Christian McKay he finds a performance that totally convinces in looks, voice and mannerisms. The young Orson Welles is a genius but a really exasperating one and a lot of time is spent awaiting his arrival. The backstage view of the Mercury Theatre production are wonderful for an old theatrical ham like me. There is a reference to the bad luck that is bound to strike every production and the hope that it strikes before the dress rehearsals and opening night. Personal experience makes me accept that this concept of bad luck may exist as I am more superstitious than logical when involved in theatre. There are lovely performances from Ben Chaplin as the English actor playing Mark Anthony and from Eddie Marsan as the now legendary John Houseman. I was especially taken by Claire Danes (no surprise there, I can hear my regular readers comment) as Sonja Jones, a sort of production assistant. Sonja is certainly quirky and a little other worldly while being more worldly than our hero, young Richard played by Zac Efron. The latter actor of course is making the painful transition from teenage heart throb to dramatic lead.I thought he made the transition successfully. He is cursed with extravagant good looks, dark floppy hair and piercing light eyes (such as a younger George Clooney) but works against this to provide a believable performance as the young man given the opportunity to play Lucius to the Brutus of Orson Welles on a whim of the great man. I loved the theatrical rehearsal sequences and loved the fact that a production acclaimed now as a masterpiece was so nearly a disaster. Orson Welles is given to worrying that the inevitable "bad luck" of a production strikes before dress rehearsal and opening night. Recent personal experiences mean I now share this concern.
Harry Brown has been described as the English "Gran Torino", which I think I reviewed in an earlier post. There are similarities in plot as elderly ex-servicemen and widowers aim to avenge a friend's death by doling out their own form of justice. Both films are blessed with leading performances by great cinematic actors in Caine and Eastwood. I think the American film has the slight edge in being directed by Eastwood himself, who qualifies as one of the very best directors outdoing the Europeans at subtlety. The English film is directed by a young débutante, Daniel Barber. He does a very good job and certainly his film is very English and very contemporary. Both leads convince as ex-servicemen leading lonely lives, although Eastwood is slightly more convincing as ex-Korean war veteran. Both sets of experience impinge on the situation they find themselves in their respective films. Strangely enough the English film is far more violent and in-yer-face than the American one. I also felt the scale was more television than cinema. The American film offered a more universal angle and a solution to the same set of problems than did the English film. I would like to see both films again and back to back.
2012 stars John Cusack. It is described as an epic adventure about a global cataclysm bringing an end to the world and the heroic struggle of the survivors. Directed by Roland Emmerich of "Independence Day" and "Day After Tomorrow", the film is packed with great cinematic set pieces of vast destruction. It is also laden with a pathetic script and some gaping flaws in logic! Cusack does try to hold the film together as does Chiwetel Ejiofor but both are outdone by Woody Harrelson as Charlie Frost. The scale of the events leaves little room for the humans. It certainly is a treat for the eyes and the ears although the brain feels a little neglected after a running time of 158 minutes. I think it's better than "10,000 B.C." but spectacular action cannot compensate for poor scripts and poor understanding of human psychology. Emmerich should spend more time looking at "Harry Brown" and "Gran Torino" to learn we are interested in how other human beings react in unusual situations - somewhere there is a quote about nothing is more illuminating in cinema than a close up of the human face!
"Me and Orson Welles" stars Zac Efron of "High School Musical" fame as a young student who gets himself into the 1930 Mercury Theatre production of "Julius Caesar" by the then 22 year old Orson, already an acclaimed genius. This was the first film my agent offered me an extra part in but it was before I retired officially so I couldn't take the opportunity offered. The film was filmed here in the UK and particularly in the Isle of Man, although the result on the screen looks authentically American. Richard Linklater as director obviously loved the material and obviously admires Orson Welles. In Christian McKay he finds a performance that totally convinces in looks, voice and mannerisms. The young Orson Welles is a genius but a really exasperating one and a lot of time is spent awaiting his arrival. The backstage view of the Mercury Theatre production are wonderful for an old theatrical ham like me. There is a reference to the bad luck that is bound to strike every production and the hope that it strikes before the dress rehearsals and opening night. Personal experience makes me accept that this concept of bad luck may exist as I am more superstitious than logical when involved in theatre. There are lovely performances from Ben Chaplin as the English actor playing Mark Anthony and from Eddie Marsan as the now legendary John Houseman. I was especially taken by Claire Danes (no surprise there, I can hear my regular readers comment) as Sonja Jones, a sort of production assistant. Sonja is certainly quirky and a little other worldly while being more worldly than our hero, young Richard played by Zac Efron. The latter actor of course is making the painful transition from teenage heart throb to dramatic lead.I thought he made the transition successfully. He is cursed with extravagant good looks, dark floppy hair and piercing light eyes (such as a younger George Clooney) but works against this to provide a believable performance as the young man given the opportunity to play Lucius to the Brutus of Orson Welles on a whim of the great man. I loved the theatrical rehearsal sequences and loved the fact that a production acclaimed now as a masterpiece was so nearly a disaster. Orson Welles is given to worrying that the inevitable "bad luck" of a production strikes before dress rehearsal and opening night. Recent personal experiences mean I now share this concern.
Harry Brown has been described as the English "Gran Torino", which I think I reviewed in an earlier post. There are similarities in plot as elderly ex-servicemen and widowers aim to avenge a friend's death by doling out their own form of justice. Both films are blessed with leading performances by great cinematic actors in Caine and Eastwood. I think the American film has the slight edge in being directed by Eastwood himself, who qualifies as one of the very best directors outdoing the Europeans at subtlety. The English film is directed by a young débutante, Daniel Barber. He does a very good job and certainly his film is very English and very contemporary. Both leads convince as ex-servicemen leading lonely lives, although Eastwood is slightly more convincing as ex-Korean war veteran. Both sets of experience impinge on the situation they find themselves in their respective films. Strangely enough the English film is far more violent and in-yer-face than the American one. I also felt the scale was more television than cinema. The American film offered a more universal angle and a solution to the same set of problems than did the English film. I would like to see both films again and back to back.
2012 stars John Cusack. It is described as an epic adventure about a global cataclysm bringing an end to the world and the heroic struggle of the survivors. Directed by Roland Emmerich of "Independence Day" and "Day After Tomorrow", the film is packed with great cinematic set pieces of vast destruction. It is also laden with a pathetic script and some gaping flaws in logic! Cusack does try to hold the film together as does Chiwetel Ejiofor but both are outdone by Woody Harrelson as Charlie Frost. The scale of the events leaves little room for the humans. It certainly is a treat for the eyes and the ears although the brain feels a little neglected after a running time of 158 minutes. I think it's better than "10,000 B.C." but spectacular action cannot compensate for poor scripts and poor understanding of human psychology. Emmerich should spend more time looking at "Harry Brown" and "Gran Torino" to learn we are interested in how other human beings react in unusual situations - somewhere there is a quote about nothing is more illuminating in cinema than a close up of the human face!
Friday, November 27, 2009
Brilliant NHS Staff
I had a cyst and was taking antibiotics but it decided to become something more unpleasant so I visited my GP. I belong to a brilliant medical practice run by the charismatic Dr Mc, but rarely see him. This particular morning I had an appointment with Dr. K., who had seen the original cyst and prescribed the antibiotics. Dr. K has two expressions, impassive and even more impassive. It was the second one that crossed his face as he examined what had now become an abscess in my right groin. He decided to write a letter to the Surgical Assessment Unit at QA hospital there and then to get me antibiotics given IV. As I had a final dress rehearsal that night and an opening night the following I was trying to calculate whether I could postpone the hospital visit until the Monday break in performances or indeed until after the performances finished. However Dr K said I must go straight to SAU and only to pick up my overnight bag on the way through.
At the SAU my details were taken by Staff Nurse W, who had been one of my pupils at Trosnant Primary School. She described me as being a "lovely teacher" and such an unsolicited testimonial made me swell with pride. While we waited long hours in the Treatment Room - not designed for long stays hence my Left Buttock complaint of previous posts - I was visited by another nurse whose son DB I had taught at Waite End School ( I believe her son had done some work on the construction of the new super hospital in which we sat).
More importantly we were visited by a very good looking doctor who was doing the assessment in the SAU. He looked like a taller version of Dominic Cooper (said teh best Beloved). It was he who answered my problem about dress rehearsals and first nights by saying "send in the understudy" and that I would be lucky to be back performing after the weekend if all went to plan. Fortunately for the Bench Theatre and "What the Butler Saw" we had the remarkable and very talented Mark Wakeman as director. It was he who stepped in as understudy with a script on stage and earned a brilliant performance accolade in the press reviews. Having seen the play all the way through he knew the moves and situations and was familiar with the lines - he needed the script though because even he was defeated by Orton's ornate language (see previous posts). That was one burden off my shoulders and all I had to concentrate on was my abscess.
After Dr. Dominic Cooper look alike came the surgery team dressed in scrubs led by a female registrar, female surgeon and male assistant. By now abscess was throbbing but if left alone didn't cause too much pain but he didn't like the attention and probing and prodding. The surgical team agreed with Dominic's assessment and i was added to the CPOD list for that day. This is the emergency list to fit in amongst the already scheduled theatre appointments and you can get shuffled up and down the list depending on priorities.
Eventually in the evening I was moved to a small one bed room in preparation for my procedure whenever a theatre became available. Best Beloved departed after a very long day thinking my procedure would take place at 2100. However I was moved down the list because another patient took priority. I was visited by an anaesthetist. This was the moment I dreaded as at my bypass they had had to do a tracheotomy in order to get air into my lungs during general anaesthetic. If they had to do that again I knew my voice would be ruined as the tracheotomy took longer to heal than did the bypass operation scars. The anaesthetist suggested another method whereby a tube was introduced up my nose and then down the back of my throat. This sounded horrible as well and I knew that if my throat was damaged or made sore it would take a long time to heal (If I am about to catch a cold or such like, it is the back of my throat which goes first).
Anyway I am dozing off having watched "Spooks" on the bedside TV when at midnight a porter and a nurse arrive for me. They trundle me down lengthy empty corridors to the theatre, where I am greeted my surgical nurses and the star of the day, the anaesthetist in charge of my operation. He was bonhomie personified and I am ashamed to say I didn't catch his name. Mainly this was because he had come up with an alternative approach for the operation. Instead of putting me under a general anaesthetic, he suggested the use of an epidural, an injection in the spine which would immobilise the body below the belly button. I agreed to the procedure and was injected in the back doing a Rodin pose under my own steam. Then followed the weirdest sensation - I could feel if my lower limbs were touched or moved but had no sensation of pain and was unable to move them myself. He introduced me to the "Oh yer Bugger" moment. This was achieved with a cold spray which had no real impact on the deadened areas but achieved the OYB moment if it sprayed on to the upper torso. The point was to monitor that the epidural worked in the area required and not higher up, which on reflection was a good thing. A NHS screen was rigged up of a blanket between two drip feed stands as I requested not to be able to see the surgeons at work. I am a physical coward and didn't want to see scalpels near my crown jewels.
The surgeon popped her head round the screen at one point to explain what they were doing and to apologise that they hadn't given me a bikini shave. The anaesthetist kept me entertained throughout with anecdotes, summary of the procedure and health advice. he did warn me that my bladder needed to work by 0800 next morning otherwise the epidural might be having too extended an effect and I would need help urinating.
I am delighted to say that my bladder worked as normal the next morning!
Finally I am indebted to the beautiful blonde District Nurse from Leeds with obvious Norwegian ancestry named Ingrid! Two Ingrids in one room was a total delight. The District Nurse ripped off the elastoplast on my dressing, came up with a less painful solution for covering the wound that will become a scar. I am now midway through a fortnight of seeing a nurse each day for changing my dressing. The usual comment on seeing the wound that will become a scar is "Oh, how impressive!"
I think that must be my summation of the brilliant NHS staff I have met during my latest medical procedure is "How Impressive!"
At the SAU my details were taken by Staff Nurse W, who had been one of my pupils at Trosnant Primary School. She described me as being a "lovely teacher" and such an unsolicited testimonial made me swell with pride. While we waited long hours in the Treatment Room - not designed for long stays hence my Left Buttock complaint of previous posts - I was visited by another nurse whose son DB I had taught at Waite End School ( I believe her son had done some work on the construction of the new super hospital in which we sat).
More importantly we were visited by a very good looking doctor who was doing the assessment in the SAU. He looked like a taller version of Dominic Cooper (said teh best Beloved). It was he who answered my problem about dress rehearsals and first nights by saying "send in the understudy" and that I would be lucky to be back performing after the weekend if all went to plan. Fortunately for the Bench Theatre and "What the Butler Saw" we had the remarkable and very talented Mark Wakeman as director. It was he who stepped in as understudy with a script on stage and earned a brilliant performance accolade in the press reviews. Having seen the play all the way through he knew the moves and situations and was familiar with the lines - he needed the script though because even he was defeated by Orton's ornate language (see previous posts). That was one burden off my shoulders and all I had to concentrate on was my abscess.
After Dr. Dominic Cooper look alike came the surgery team dressed in scrubs led by a female registrar, female surgeon and male assistant. By now abscess was throbbing but if left alone didn't cause too much pain but he didn't like the attention and probing and prodding. The surgical team agreed with Dominic's assessment and i was added to the CPOD list for that day. This is the emergency list to fit in amongst the already scheduled theatre appointments and you can get shuffled up and down the list depending on priorities.
Eventually in the evening I was moved to a small one bed room in preparation for my procedure whenever a theatre became available. Best Beloved departed after a very long day thinking my procedure would take place at 2100. However I was moved down the list because another patient took priority. I was visited by an anaesthetist. This was the moment I dreaded as at my bypass they had had to do a tracheotomy in order to get air into my lungs during general anaesthetic. If they had to do that again I knew my voice would be ruined as the tracheotomy took longer to heal than did the bypass operation scars. The anaesthetist suggested another method whereby a tube was introduced up my nose and then down the back of my throat. This sounded horrible as well and I knew that if my throat was damaged or made sore it would take a long time to heal (If I am about to catch a cold or such like, it is the back of my throat which goes first).
Anyway I am dozing off having watched "Spooks" on the bedside TV when at midnight a porter and a nurse arrive for me. They trundle me down lengthy empty corridors to the theatre, where I am greeted my surgical nurses and the star of the day, the anaesthetist in charge of my operation. He was bonhomie personified and I am ashamed to say I didn't catch his name. Mainly this was because he had come up with an alternative approach for the operation. Instead of putting me under a general anaesthetic, he suggested the use of an epidural, an injection in the spine which would immobilise the body below the belly button. I agreed to the procedure and was injected in the back doing a Rodin pose under my own steam. Then followed the weirdest sensation - I could feel if my lower limbs were touched or moved but had no sensation of pain and was unable to move them myself. He introduced me to the "Oh yer Bugger" moment. This was achieved with a cold spray which had no real impact on the deadened areas but achieved the OYB moment if it sprayed on to the upper torso. The point was to monitor that the epidural worked in the area required and not higher up, which on reflection was a good thing. A NHS screen was rigged up of a blanket between two drip feed stands as I requested not to be able to see the surgeons at work. I am a physical coward and didn't want to see scalpels near my crown jewels.
The surgeon popped her head round the screen at one point to explain what they were doing and to apologise that they hadn't given me a bikini shave. The anaesthetist kept me entertained throughout with anecdotes, summary of the procedure and health advice. he did warn me that my bladder needed to work by 0800 next morning otherwise the epidural might be having too extended an effect and I would need help urinating.
I am delighted to say that my bladder worked as normal the next morning!
Finally I am indebted to the beautiful blonde District Nurse from Leeds with obvious Norwegian ancestry named Ingrid! Two Ingrids in one room was a total delight. The District Nurse ripped off the elastoplast on my dressing, came up with a less painful solution for covering the wound that will become a scar. I am now midway through a fortnight of seeing a nurse each day for changing my dressing. The usual comment on seeing the wound that will become a scar is "Oh, how impressive!"
I think that must be my summation of the brilliant NHS staff I have met during my latest medical procedure is "How Impressive!"
Saturday, November 21, 2009
MLB 2
MLB is an inbuilt device for measuring how long I have been sitting and waiting. Wednesday was one of those days when my ability for sitting several hours staring blankly into space was severely tested although I seem to have had a lot of practice since retiring. MLB became so pained at my lack of movement that it threatened to part company with the rest of me and no amount of shifting, rubbing or raising it off the seat would placate it.
I had been carrying a slightly aggravated cyst in my right groin for some time but it chose Sunday of the get in and technical rehearsals of my current production with the Bench Theatre, "What the Butler Saw", to begin to flare up and to start causing problems and pain. I had already seen my GP on a previous occasion and had antibiotics standing by for such an eventuality. However on the Monday I found myself confined to bed (TG I don't work these days) - this is something my body seems to do if I am sick - and I realised that I was exhausted as well as having problems with a cyst. Dress rehearsal on Monday night was done with gritted teeth and on masses of adrenalin. I always quote "Doctor Theatre" at my girls and do believe that as long as you can get on the stage adrenalin will carry you through. Unfortunately this production of adrenalin does have a payback as you tend to exhaust even further your natural resources so Tuesday was also spent in bed in considerable discomfort. The dress rehearsal that night was marked by an increase in the pain level but I took that as a sign of improvement (on what grounds I am now unsure). However a look at the site when I got home was sufficient to convince me that I should see the GP in the morning. The cyst wore a perpetual darkened frown and the surrounding area was infected and sore.
Suffice it to say that I found myself in the G.P.'s surgery next morning. He took a close look at My Problem and then promptly sat down to write out instructions for the hospital while carefully explaining the situation to me. I would need antibiotics intravenously and some surgery so I was being sent to the Surgical Assessment Unit. There was a surreal moment when I tried to work out if the appointment would arrive after the production or whether it would fall on the Monday break in production before the Tuesday performance which starts the run of last five performances. The GP looked at me bemused when I asked the timing of all of the treatment he was suggesting. He said I had sufficient time to go home for an overnight bag before taking the document and file to the SAU at the hospital. An hour later the Best Beloved and I sat in the Treatment Room of the SAU awaiting assessment.
I had been carrying a slightly aggravated cyst in my right groin for some time but it chose Sunday of the get in and technical rehearsals of my current production with the Bench Theatre, "What the Butler Saw", to begin to flare up and to start causing problems and pain. I had already seen my GP on a previous occasion and had antibiotics standing by for such an eventuality. However on the Monday I found myself confined to bed (TG I don't work these days) - this is something my body seems to do if I am sick - and I realised that I was exhausted as well as having problems with a cyst. Dress rehearsal on Monday night was done with gritted teeth and on masses of adrenalin. I always quote "Doctor Theatre" at my girls and do believe that as long as you can get on the stage adrenalin will carry you through. Unfortunately this production of adrenalin does have a payback as you tend to exhaust even further your natural resources so Tuesday was also spent in bed in considerable discomfort. The dress rehearsal that night was marked by an increase in the pain level but I took that as a sign of improvement (on what grounds I am now unsure). However a look at the site when I got home was sufficient to convince me that I should see the GP in the morning. The cyst wore a perpetual darkened frown and the surrounding area was infected and sore.
Suffice it to say that I found myself in the G.P.'s surgery next morning. He took a close look at My Problem and then promptly sat down to write out instructions for the hospital while carefully explaining the situation to me. I would need antibiotics intravenously and some surgery so I was being sent to the Surgical Assessment Unit. There was a surreal moment when I tried to work out if the appointment would arrive after the production or whether it would fall on the Monday break in production before the Tuesday performance which starts the run of last five performances. The GP looked at me bemused when I asked the timing of all of the treatment he was suggesting. He said I had sufficient time to go home for an overnight bag before taking the document and file to the SAU at the hospital. An hour later the Best Beloved and I sat in the Treatment Room of the SAU awaiting assessment.
Friday, November 20, 2009
My Left Buttock
I have just had a surprise minor operation this week which threw my plans and those of my friends into a tailspin. Thanks to excellent treatment by NHS staff and good drugs, superlative caring by the Best Beloved, and the support of friends and family, I am making a remarkably speedy recovery back at home with the Wound which will become a Scar. I am slightly shuffling in motion as I accustom myself to actions which are unwise to execute at this stage but which I used to be able to do before the operation. I am hoping however to be able to announce myself recovered enough to take up playing the part of Dr. Prentice in the Bench Theatre production of "What the Butler Saw" for the five performances of the run from next Tuesday. The part has been played brilliantly in my absence by the director, Mark Wakeman. Some may say too well as he and the production received a glowing review in the Portsmouth News. He may not want to give up the roar of the make up and the smell of the crowd.
All of this in the course of three days and the main casualty is not my Wound which will become a Scar but my Left Buttock!
All of this in the course of three days and the main casualty is not my Wound which will become a Scar but my Left Buttock!
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Missed Chance
I had the chance of a part with another company that I have tried to join on a number of previous occasions. They offered me an actual part because the original actor had gone down sick. I was gutted to find that it clashed with the performance dates of "What the Butler Saw" so I was unable to accept the chance. However perhaps now they have thought of me once I might get another offer.
My agent texted me about the possibility of taking part in a Lurpak commercial but the casting director didn't firm up the offer so I missed out on a day's filming on Tuesday.
I am spending hours daily cramming my head full of the lines for "What the Butler Saw". I don't know how I found time to do it when I was working. Perhaps my technique was different then or my memory cells were better organised or just younger! It is hard work and not helped by Joe Orton writing in such ornate language that wouldn't go amiss in a Restoration Comedy. You feel you have to get every word and syllable in the right place or order otherwise it just doesn't sound right and the rhythm of the lines is lost. I have just about reached that stage where the lines are finally in my head and coming out of my mouth on cue and in the right order. However there is an awful lot of tricky stage business, which then threatens the memory cells and the links between sections. The worst effect of a "dry" is that you end up not remembering which play let alone scene you are doing. The stage business needs to become automatic and reliant upon muscle memory rather than conscious thought. This means rehearsing the stage business endlessly so it becomes an automatic part of you. The trouble with that is you need the actual props you are going to use and they will need replenishing constantly. It may only need a dozen roses for each performance but you have to multiply that by the number of performances and then by the number of rehearsals. One piece of business is so complex it has 33 different actions and at the moment I am miming each action so by the time I get to action 12 or 13 even I can't remember what the mime represents let alone the actress awaiting her cue. Another of the problems is that you can't get to handling the props unless you know the lines and don't have the book in your hand any more. Learning the 33 actions for that one sequence of stage business is harder than learning lines. We have taped the dialogue and it would be a good idea to use the tape for those sort of sequences.
I am amazed to find that time has flown so rapidly and we are already approaching Get in and technical rehearsals while I am still in the process of over learning the lines. This is the process where you hope to learn the lines sufficiently that they don't entirely rely upon conscious thought and free up part of your brain to use in performance and rehearsal over and beyond the mechanics. I was taught that there are four stages of learning a skill: you are unconscious that the skill even exists; you become conscious of the skill and the fact that you don't have it; you consciously use the skill and it takes all your concentration to use it; you unconsciously use the skill. The best analogy is learning to drive a car. Well I think it can also apply to developing a performance in a play.
At the moment Best Beloved is helping me to develop one of the pieces of stage business needed for the play which involves female underwear, shoes, roses and a vase. We think we have solved the problem with the roses but need the vase and under/foot wear in order to work it all out before we start rehearsing the muscle memory! Tell me again how many years I have had this theatrical hobby.......46?....is that possible? or desirable?
My agent texted me about the possibility of taking part in a Lurpak commercial but the casting director didn't firm up the offer so I missed out on a day's filming on Tuesday.
I am spending hours daily cramming my head full of the lines for "What the Butler Saw". I don't know how I found time to do it when I was working. Perhaps my technique was different then or my memory cells were better organised or just younger! It is hard work and not helped by Joe Orton writing in such ornate language that wouldn't go amiss in a Restoration Comedy. You feel you have to get every word and syllable in the right place or order otherwise it just doesn't sound right and the rhythm of the lines is lost. I have just about reached that stage where the lines are finally in my head and coming out of my mouth on cue and in the right order. However there is an awful lot of tricky stage business, which then threatens the memory cells and the links between sections. The worst effect of a "dry" is that you end up not remembering which play let alone scene you are doing. The stage business needs to become automatic and reliant upon muscle memory rather than conscious thought. This means rehearsing the stage business endlessly so it becomes an automatic part of you. The trouble with that is you need the actual props you are going to use and they will need replenishing constantly. It may only need a dozen roses for each performance but you have to multiply that by the number of performances and then by the number of rehearsals. One piece of business is so complex it has 33 different actions and at the moment I am miming each action so by the time I get to action 12 or 13 even I can't remember what the mime represents let alone the actress awaiting her cue. Another of the problems is that you can't get to handling the props unless you know the lines and don't have the book in your hand any more. Learning the 33 actions for that one sequence of stage business is harder than learning lines. We have taped the dialogue and it would be a good idea to use the tape for those sort of sequences.
I am amazed to find that time has flown so rapidly and we are already approaching Get in and technical rehearsals while I am still in the process of over learning the lines. This is the process where you hope to learn the lines sufficiently that they don't entirely rely upon conscious thought and free up part of your brain to use in performance and rehearsal over and beyond the mechanics. I was taught that there are four stages of learning a skill: you are unconscious that the skill even exists; you become conscious of the skill and the fact that you don't have it; you consciously use the skill and it takes all your concentration to use it; you unconsciously use the skill. The best analogy is learning to drive a car. Well I think it can also apply to developing a performance in a play.
At the moment Best Beloved is helping me to develop one of the pieces of stage business needed for the play which involves female underwear, shoes, roses and a vase. We think we have solved the problem with the roses but need the vase and under/foot wear in order to work it all out before we start rehearsing the muscle memory! Tell me again how many years I have had this theatrical hobby.......46?....is that possible? or desirable?
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Speaking in Tongues
This was one of the reasons why we wanted to organise a London Theatre Week in the first place. I had read about and was interested in the young Australian playwright, Andrew Bovell. I bought a copy of his play "When the Rain Stops Falling" but haven't read it yet. Our friends the Penroses are in Australia now and on their schedule they are going to see a performance of "When the Rain Stops Falling". It is also going into production at the Lincoln Center in New York in 2010. This is a young playwright busily making a name and reputation for himself internationally. Bovell also adapted this play "Speaking in Tongues" into a film, "Lantana", which I didn't see but heard recommended strongly. The cast includes John Simm and Ian Hart, two actors I admire greatly. For all these reasons we booked seats to see a matinee of the show.
"Speaking in Tongues" is publicised as a 'comic chiller'. It begins really well with two different men chatting up two different men in hotel bedrooms simultaneously. The intercutting of dialogue is expertly done to show the similarities and the differences in the two scenes. This is incredibly good ensemble work by all four actors. It continues in the same style into the second scene where each man has returned to his own home and is now in conversation with his wife. The audience is shown both these interactions happening at the same time. It sounds confusing to read it but in the expert hands of this quality of cast it was just well executed. There is some humour in subsequent scenes when the two men meet and when the two wives meet. Ian Hart during the course of the play take son three characters and the other three actors take on two roles each. All the other roles are clearly demarcated and we really are safe in the hands of this cast. My problem was that though I never lost interest in the play, I was never emotionally engaged by any character to a sufficient degree that I cared what happened to him or her. This is a quality cast doing quality work in a clever play well directed by Toby Frow and well designed by Ben Stones. I applauded appreciatively enough at the end but the play appealed more to my head than to my heart.
"Speaking in Tongues" is publicised as a 'comic chiller'. It begins really well with two different men chatting up two different men in hotel bedrooms simultaneously. The intercutting of dialogue is expertly done to show the similarities and the differences in the two scenes. This is incredibly good ensemble work by all four actors. It continues in the same style into the second scene where each man has returned to his own home and is now in conversation with his wife. The audience is shown both these interactions happening at the same time. It sounds confusing to read it but in the expert hands of this quality of cast it was just well executed. There is some humour in subsequent scenes when the two men meet and when the two wives meet. Ian Hart during the course of the play take son three characters and the other three actors take on two roles each. All the other roles are clearly demarcated and we really are safe in the hands of this cast. My problem was that though I never lost interest in the play, I was never emotionally engaged by any character to a sufficient degree that I cared what happened to him or her. This is a quality cast doing quality work in a clever play well directed by Toby Frow and well designed by Ben Stones. I applauded appreciatively enough at the end but the play appealed more to my head than to my heart.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Annie Get Your Gun
This was my first visit to the Young Vic and its unreserved bench seats. I liked the community feel of the place and was intrigued to see four upright pianos installed in the front of a long narrow stage rather than an orchestra pit of any kind. "Annie Get Your Gun" was the only musical chosen on this trip, which is quite unusual for me as I am a real lover of the musical form. I don't know this particular musical and had never seen a production of it before. It does contain some great standards I did know and of course the actress, Jane Horrocks. The leading man was Julian Ovenden, who I believe we last saw in the Sondheim, "Merrily We Roll Along", at the Donmar a couple of years ago.
The original story of Annie Oakley was in the late 19th century but Richard Jones, the director, had set his version in the 1940's. This meant that he could show Annie's triumphal tour of Europe, where she was presented with medals by Winston Churchill, De Gaulle, Mussolini and Hitler, as a silent film version. The set was a long and rather shallow rectangular space and the first scene was decorated with chrome furniture as per an American diner in Cincinnati. We meet Charlie, the drummer for the Buffalo Bill Wild West Show (John Marquez) who is trying to set up a contest between a local contestant and Frank Butler (Julian Ovenden), champion sharpshooter of the world. The director seemed to have decided on a low key approach relying on ensemble singing supported by the four upright pianos. The director may be trying to capture Irving Berlin's stated aim that he wanted to make his songs sound like "conversation set to music". Ovenden doesn't have a big voice but what he brings is excellent articulation and phrasing of a song. "I'm a Bad, Bad Man" is a typical Berlin conversational verse and allows Ovenden to establish the style of the show. Jane Horrocks is tiny and once again the emphasis is on clarity and characterisation rather than a big voice. What Jane Horrocks brings to the role is vulnerability and, though she is a sharpshooter not only the equal of Frank but indeed his better, we are won over by her and are rooting for her to the end. We were impressed by the staging and the choreography and this is a show packed full of great songs, The Girl That I Marry", "You Can't Get a Man with a gun", "There's No business like show business", "They Say It's Wonderful", "I Got Sun in the Morning" and "Anything You Can Do". I was disappointed in Niall Ashdown as Sitting Bull and in Chucky Venn as Buffalo Bill. The former was too low key and brought little of the exotic to the show. Chucky Venn has the looks and a good singing voice but I wanted a deeper timbre or range from Buffalo Bill. Both actors and characters fitted in with and supplemented the ensemble singing and numbers too well and I wanted something a little more individual from them. Jane Horrocks was the reason for seeing the show and she did justice to the Berlin lyrics. She is small but beautifully formed. I liked her Annie Oakley and wanted to protect and cheer her on.
The original story of Annie Oakley was in the late 19th century but Richard Jones, the director, had set his version in the 1940's. This meant that he could show Annie's triumphal tour of Europe, where she was presented with medals by Winston Churchill, De Gaulle, Mussolini and Hitler, as a silent film version. The set was a long and rather shallow rectangular space and the first scene was decorated with chrome furniture as per an American diner in Cincinnati. We meet Charlie, the drummer for the Buffalo Bill Wild West Show (John Marquez) who is trying to set up a contest between a local contestant and Frank Butler (Julian Ovenden), champion sharpshooter of the world. The director seemed to have decided on a low key approach relying on ensemble singing supported by the four upright pianos. The director may be trying to capture Irving Berlin's stated aim that he wanted to make his songs sound like "conversation set to music". Ovenden doesn't have a big voice but what he brings is excellent articulation and phrasing of a song. "I'm a Bad, Bad Man" is a typical Berlin conversational verse and allows Ovenden to establish the style of the show. Jane Horrocks is tiny and once again the emphasis is on clarity and characterisation rather than a big voice. What Jane Horrocks brings to the role is vulnerability and, though she is a sharpshooter not only the equal of Frank but indeed his better, we are won over by her and are rooting for her to the end. We were impressed by the staging and the choreography and this is a show packed full of great songs, The Girl That I Marry", "You Can't Get a Man with a gun", "There's No business like show business", "They Say It's Wonderful", "I Got Sun in the Morning" and "Anything You Can Do". I was disappointed in Niall Ashdown as Sitting Bull and in Chucky Venn as Buffalo Bill. The former was too low key and brought little of the exotic to the show. Chucky Venn has the looks and a good singing voice but I wanted a deeper timbre or range from Buffalo Bill. Both actors and characters fitted in with and supplemented the ensemble singing and numbers too well and I wanted something a little more individual from them. Jane Horrocks was the reason for seeing the show and she did justice to the Berlin lyrics. She is small but beautifully formed. I liked her Annie Oakley and wanted to protect and cheer her on.
Stories By Heart
After interposing a post about storytelling for children, it seems appropriate to return to our London Theatre Week reviews and the event, "Stories by Heart", at the Lyttleton by John Lithgow.
We had had the privilege of seeing the stage set as part of our backstage tour. It was also humbling to see the size of the auditorium into which John Lithgow was going to be performing that evening. He is apparently repeating the event this coming Monday, October 26th.
The set was a small coffee table DSL, a series of rugs forming a star like pattern on the floor, CS was a standard lamp, a comfortable wing chair and a small table with a glass and jug of water. Oh and a hat stand USR! All stage directions are given as from the performer's or actor's viewpoint (D is downstage towards the audience and U is upstage away from the audience in case there are any readers of this blog who are not luvvies).
John Lithgow bounded on to stage to warm applause and he announced that it was his birthday that very day, the 19th of October. He told us he was 64 and began to hum. It took me a while to pick up the tune as I was still stunned at how good he looked for 64! Then the audience began to sing the Beatles song, "When I am 64", with and to John Lithgow. We were good too. At the end he thanked us and said he would be quite happy to go offstage now and expire in the wings as that had been one of the happiest moments in his life. He also wished that we all could experience such a moment. He had won us all round and we waited in anticipation to see what came next.
We learned about his father and mother and the importance they had given to stories in the life of the Lithgow family. We learned about a precious book from which John's father had read and recounted stories many many times as the children grew up. We were going to hear two of the stories that very evening.
The first story was "our" man, P.G. Wodehouse, and "Uncle Fred Flits By". At first it appeared we were going to be read the story but of course this was stories by heart and soon John Lithgow was telling and acting the story out. His characterisations were fabulous and his grasp of narration very impressive. He has a great voice and he used it to the utmost in telling the story of irascible Uncle Fred and his much put upon nephew, Pongo. We roared with laughter at the escapades and at the joy of delivery. We were safe in the hands of a consummate storyteller.
After the interval, the second tale was "Haircut", by Ring Lardner. This was a very different tale of a small Midwestern town as seen through the eyes of the narrator, the town's barber. The telling of the story required a very elaborate, detailed and sustained mime by Lithgow giving a shave and haircut to an unseen customer in the barber's chair. The barber as narrator conjures up the other characters in the town and in the story. It was very American and I wasn't personally as held as I was in the first half. It could be that the first half had set an impossible standard to follow. John Lithgow admitted that the second half was an addition as the first story had been the event all by itself until audiences began asking for more. I wasn't sure that the story itself by Ring Lardner was strong enough or whether it was swamped a little by the mime. I did enjoy it and did find it revealing of the depths to be found in a small town anywhere. However I just didn't find it as involving as the Wodehouse. I did find myself impressed at the end by Mr Lithgow and his ability to work an audience and above all to tell stories by heart.
We had had the privilege of seeing the stage set as part of our backstage tour. It was also humbling to see the size of the auditorium into which John Lithgow was going to be performing that evening. He is apparently repeating the event this coming Monday, October 26th.
The set was a small coffee table DSL, a series of rugs forming a star like pattern on the floor, CS was a standard lamp, a comfortable wing chair and a small table with a glass and jug of water. Oh and a hat stand USR! All stage directions are given as from the performer's or actor's viewpoint (D is downstage towards the audience and U is upstage away from the audience in case there are any readers of this blog who are not luvvies).
John Lithgow bounded on to stage to warm applause and he announced that it was his birthday that very day, the 19th of October. He told us he was 64 and began to hum. It took me a while to pick up the tune as I was still stunned at how good he looked for 64! Then the audience began to sing the Beatles song, "When I am 64", with and to John Lithgow. We were good too. At the end he thanked us and said he would be quite happy to go offstage now and expire in the wings as that had been one of the happiest moments in his life. He also wished that we all could experience such a moment. He had won us all round and we waited in anticipation to see what came next.
We learned about his father and mother and the importance they had given to stories in the life of the Lithgow family. We learned about a precious book from which John's father had read and recounted stories many many times as the children grew up. We were going to hear two of the stories that very evening.
The first story was "our" man, P.G. Wodehouse, and "Uncle Fred Flits By". At first it appeared we were going to be read the story but of course this was stories by heart and soon John Lithgow was telling and acting the story out. His characterisations were fabulous and his grasp of narration very impressive. He has a great voice and he used it to the utmost in telling the story of irascible Uncle Fred and his much put upon nephew, Pongo. We roared with laughter at the escapades and at the joy of delivery. We were safe in the hands of a consummate storyteller.
After the interval, the second tale was "Haircut", by Ring Lardner. This was a very different tale of a small Midwestern town as seen through the eyes of the narrator, the town's barber. The telling of the story required a very elaborate, detailed and sustained mime by Lithgow giving a shave and haircut to an unseen customer in the barber's chair. The barber as narrator conjures up the other characters in the town and in the story. It was very American and I wasn't personally as held as I was in the first half. It could be that the first half had set an impossible standard to follow. John Lithgow admitted that the second half was an addition as the first story had been the event all by itself until audiences began asking for more. I wasn't sure that the story itself by Ring Lardner was strong enough or whether it was swamped a little by the mime. I did enjoy it and did find it revealing of the depths to be found in a small town anywhere. However I just didn't find it as involving as the Wodehouse. I did find myself impressed at the end by Mr Lithgow and his ability to work an audience and above all to tell stories by heart.
Red Shoes
Today we returned to a session of storytelling as the Tale Tellers at the Spring Arts and Heritage Centre. This was our last session under the "Shoes" theme. We had accepted "Red Shoes" as one of our titles from a list offered by the Arts centre staff when we were drawing up the entry in the brochure back at the beginning of the year. I don't know whether you know the Hans Christian Anderson story but it makes the Grimm Brothers look like Sesame Street! There is this pair of cursed red shoes which won't stop dancing once you have put them on. The reason the shoes are cursed and the way to break the curse are religious in the original story - and did I mention the amputation and the wooden limb replacements!! Upon hindsight we decided we would take the basic premise of enchanted red dancing shoes but would write our own version instead of using that of Hans Christian Anderson. As I have written our own versions of "The Elves and the Shoemaker", "Puss in Boots" and "Cinderella", it fell to the authoress of our version of the "Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe", i.e. the Best beloved, to come up with our version of the "Red Shoes".
She completed it last night and she performed it to the children this morning. It was a success and although our numbers were down a little from our last session (we have gone monthly now and it was raining?) it was a pleasure to see their enraptured faces as the Best Beloved wove her magic as Ingy-Thingy the Storyteller. As usual she had got the session going with nursery rhymes and shoe songs in rounds and in unison, before I told the short story of the "troll and the Three Billy Goats Gruff". During our London visit we had refound the Piccadilly Market and the little stall with convertible dolls made apparently by nuns (says the Cockney stall holder). We bought three dolls upon which to base short stories and used the first one today which has the troll and underneath the three billy goats.
Ingy-Thingy then told the headline story while I watched the audience - a fully privileged position to be in! I once learned of a director who did that deliberately in his productions. He knew the play intimately and didn't need to watch it. Instead we watched the reaction of the audience and gave his notes to his cast on their performances by what he had observed of the audience.
As Guppy I reprised our very first headline story, "The Elves and the shoemaker", but in a shortened version and in the form of a game I had found online. It was quite ambitious but it seemed to work and one Dad afterwards commented that he would adapt the idea for future children's parties. We perform our stories alongside the giant boot in the foyer of the Spring so we have the children seated on the ground in front of us and usually interspersed with Mums - Dads and grandparents tend to sit at the adjacent coffee tables and chairs. I am not sure the game would have gone so well without the interspersed Mums!
We finished off with our version of "Old MacDonald had a band", which the children like and to which they can contribute.
The next session is the end of November when we are doing "Aladdin" before "The Night Before Christmas" on December 19th as our last session this year. we are already talking about a 2010 season with the Spring.
She completed it last night and she performed it to the children this morning. It was a success and although our numbers were down a little from our last session (we have gone monthly now and it was raining?) it was a pleasure to see their enraptured faces as the Best Beloved wove her magic as Ingy-Thingy the Storyteller. As usual she had got the session going with nursery rhymes and shoe songs in rounds and in unison, before I told the short story of the "troll and the Three Billy Goats Gruff". During our London visit we had refound the Piccadilly Market and the little stall with convertible dolls made apparently by nuns (says the Cockney stall holder). We bought three dolls upon which to base short stories and used the first one today which has the troll and underneath the three billy goats.
Ingy-Thingy then told the headline story while I watched the audience - a fully privileged position to be in! I once learned of a director who did that deliberately in his productions. He knew the play intimately and didn't need to watch it. Instead we watched the reaction of the audience and gave his notes to his cast on their performances by what he had observed of the audience.
As Guppy I reprised our very first headline story, "The Elves and the shoemaker", but in a shortened version and in the form of a game I had found online. It was quite ambitious but it seemed to work and one Dad afterwards commented that he would adapt the idea for future children's parties. We perform our stories alongside the giant boot in the foyer of the Spring so we have the children seated on the ground in front of us and usually interspersed with Mums - Dads and grandparents tend to sit at the adjacent coffee tables and chairs. I am not sure the game would have gone so well without the interspersed Mums!
We finished off with our version of "Old MacDonald had a band", which the children like and to which they can contribute.
The next session is the end of November when we are doing "Aladdin" before "The Night Before Christmas" on December 19th as our last session this year. we are already talking about a 2010 season with the Spring.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Life is a Dream
"Life is A Dream" was written in 1635 by Pedro Calderon de la Barca and is acknowledged as one of the masterpieces of Spain's Golden Century, the creative 17th. Amongst other masterpieces of this period is my own personal classical favourite, Cervantes' 1605 masterpiece, Don Quixote . Calderon followed Lope de Vega as Philip IV's court dramatist and based his work upon the turbulent history of Spain in the 16th century. In 1568 Philip II of Armada infamy imprisoned his crazed son,Charles, in a tower.
This new version of "Life is a Dream" is by Helen Edmundson, who has done a lot of work with Shared Experience, and is currently working on a new play for the RSC. The language is poetic but sinewy. The psychology is deep and understanding. The premise that we can never be sure whether we are in a dream or in life is one that has occupied us all at one time or other. The storytelling is superb and totally satisfying.
The production directed by Jonathan Munby is based upon magnificent performances and a stagecraft that transforms the Donmar and transcends the space of one of the smallest but beloved theatres I know. Nothing is wasted and everything is used in the service of the story. The music by Dominic Haslam and Ansuman Biswas is stunning and underpins the whole production. The stage is stripped bare right down to the famous black back wall except for an enormous circular gold ringed chandelier with a central lantern in the form of a huge incense holder or inverted thurible.
It is difficult to single out one performance above the others as this is a stellar acting cast rather than an ensemble. However I must admit I had gone to see Dominic West on stage. I have been smitten by this English actor's work in The Wire, as a Baltimore policeman. After his performance as Segismundo, I am even more impressed by his performance as McNulty. We learn that Segismundo has been imprisoned by his father, King Basilio, a learned scholar and scientist, who believes his son is a harbinger of doom for the world and his kingdom. Powerful and muscular in stature and in voice,Dominic West engages the sympathy of the audience by the strength of his conviction and the wretchedness of his character's plight. In the smallness of the Donmar, we look right into his eyes and we share his sense of injustice and outrage.
The greatness of the piece though is that we do not have black and white characters with villains and heroes. In great soliloquies we learn about the motives of the king and the gaoler, Clotaldo. In the hands of Malcolm Storry and David Horovitch, these parts are rich, complex and beautifully rounded. Malcolm Storry is a beautifully rational actor with a beautiful voice and an expressive face. He also has the stage presence and charisma to not only match Dominic West but to impose himself above the other. David Horovitch manages to create a character who remains honourable in difficult circumstances and who earns our grudging respect.
Going as we do to matinees in term time, we encounter many audiences composed of young students (see "War Horse" review and the autograph hunters) and certainly the character of Clarion as played by Lloyd Hutchinson won the majority of them over. He was able to maintain the humour and the throwaway lines even in the poetic form dictated by the script (although it must be said that all the cast were good at doing that). The common man seeking to put some sense on what is happening in the world around him and somehow ending up right in the middle was safely in the hands of this warm and comic actor.
Calderon has also created two wonderful female characters in Esterella (Sharon Small) and Rosaura. When Segismundo encounters them and indeed womanhood for the first time he is mightily impressed and extols their virtues in almost "Brave New World" fashion. Both actresses are more than up to the task and once again we are given beautifully modulated and realised characters with no hint of stereotype. Having seen Kate Fleetwood recently as Lady M in the Scottish play to Patrick Stewart's murderous thane, I was impressed by the nuances she brought to Rosaura.
Rupert Evans as Astolfo played him as a three dimensional character rather than as a villain and thereby uses skilfully his own matinee idol looks in the service of the character. The company is made up by David Smith and Dylan Turner but the cast thoroughly convinces us of the collapse of Poland as thoroughly as we saw the Great War in "War Horse". We want to know the fate of a man and of a nation, because we recognise our common humanity amid the uncertainty of life and death.
This new version of "Life is a Dream" is by Helen Edmundson, who has done a lot of work with Shared Experience, and is currently working on a new play for the RSC. The language is poetic but sinewy. The psychology is deep and understanding. The premise that we can never be sure whether we are in a dream or in life is one that has occupied us all at one time or other. The storytelling is superb and totally satisfying.
The production directed by Jonathan Munby is based upon magnificent performances and a stagecraft that transforms the Donmar and transcends the space of one of the smallest but beloved theatres I know. Nothing is wasted and everything is used in the service of the story. The music by Dominic Haslam and Ansuman Biswas is stunning and underpins the whole production. The stage is stripped bare right down to the famous black back wall except for an enormous circular gold ringed chandelier with a central lantern in the form of a huge incense holder or inverted thurible.
It is difficult to single out one performance above the others as this is a stellar acting cast rather than an ensemble. However I must admit I had gone to see Dominic West on stage. I have been smitten by this English actor's work in The Wire, as a Baltimore policeman. After his performance as Segismundo, I am even more impressed by his performance as McNulty. We learn that Segismundo has been imprisoned by his father, King Basilio, a learned scholar and scientist, who believes his son is a harbinger of doom for the world and his kingdom. Powerful and muscular in stature and in voice,Dominic West engages the sympathy of the audience by the strength of his conviction and the wretchedness of his character's plight. In the smallness of the Donmar, we look right into his eyes and we share his sense of injustice and outrage.
The greatness of the piece though is that we do not have black and white characters with villains and heroes. In great soliloquies we learn about the motives of the king and the gaoler, Clotaldo. In the hands of Malcolm Storry and David Horovitch, these parts are rich, complex and beautifully rounded. Malcolm Storry is a beautifully rational actor with a beautiful voice and an expressive face. He also has the stage presence and charisma to not only match Dominic West but to impose himself above the other. David Horovitch manages to create a character who remains honourable in difficult circumstances and who earns our grudging respect.
Going as we do to matinees in term time, we encounter many audiences composed of young students (see "War Horse" review and the autograph hunters) and certainly the character of Clarion as played by Lloyd Hutchinson won the majority of them over. He was able to maintain the humour and the throwaway lines even in the poetic form dictated by the script (although it must be said that all the cast were good at doing that). The common man seeking to put some sense on what is happening in the world around him and somehow ending up right in the middle was safely in the hands of this warm and comic actor.
Calderon has also created two wonderful female characters in Esterella (Sharon Small) and Rosaura. When Segismundo encounters them and indeed womanhood for the first time he is mightily impressed and extols their virtues in almost "Brave New World" fashion. Both actresses are more than up to the task and once again we are given beautifully modulated and realised characters with no hint of stereotype. Having seen Kate Fleetwood recently as Lady M in the Scottish play to Patrick Stewart's murderous thane, I was impressed by the nuances she brought to Rosaura.
Rupert Evans as Astolfo played him as a three dimensional character rather than as a villain and thereby uses skilfully his own matinee idol looks in the service of the character. The company is made up by David Smith and Dylan Turner but the cast thoroughly convinces us of the collapse of Poland as thoroughly as we saw the Great War in "War Horse". We want to know the fate of a man and of a nation, because we recognise our common humanity amid the uncertainty of life and death.
War Horse
I am a great admirer of Michael Morpurgo's work and he was a worthy Children's Laureate from 2003 to 2005. It was during this time that the Best Beloved and I attended a talk he gave to an English Teacher's conference in Hampshire. Afterwards we enjoyed a conversation with him about retiring as it was a pertinent subject for him and us at the time. I love "Kensuke's Kingdom", "War Horse" and "Private Peaceful". These are his three war stories with the last two based in the First World War. In fact Michael was reading "Private Peaceful" on Monday night in the Olivier at the same time as we chose to see John Lithgow in the Lyttleton. We got to see both stages from backstage as part of our National Theatre tour on the late Monday afternoon. The set for "Habit of Art", the new Alan Bennett play, is a recreation of Rehearsal Room 1 at the National Theatre. It wasn't a surprise therefore to see him in the auditorium for the Tuesday performance at the New London theatre. From our backstage tour we learned that the transfer of "War Horse" from the Olivier to the New London was based on some similarities between the two theatres. One of these is the revolve and the spread of seats in the auditorium. We learned that the span of seats in the Olivier is 118 degrees because that is what can be encompassed within the actor's range of sight without moving the head.
We had missed "War Horse" at the National before it transferred to the New London and this was our chance to catch it before the planned Lee Hall film goes into production (oh to be a film extra on that film!). We met the puppet of the war horse's mother backstage in the National Theatre scenic dock. I don't think I am giving anything away in saying that the horses in the show are magnificent creations by the Handspring puppet Theatre working is association with the National. Well, the model for the mother of Joey is to be found still at the National as she was cut from the final production. She was manned by three puppeteers as is Joey and it was fascinating to appreciate the skill and care with which she was constructed. It may have stolen a bit of the thunder seeing her backstage rather than getting a first glimpse of the horse onstage. However Joey's mother was cut because she lengthened the storyline unnecessarily it was decided. There had been a discussion as to what she was called and a bit of theatre spookiness overtook us here. At first they were going to call her Zoey but thought that was too much like Joey, so they changed her name to Alice! To those who know this blogger will realise those are the names we chose for the treasures of our lives, our two daughters!
"War Horse" was a magnificent piece of theatrical storytelling at its very best. The undoubted star is Joey and the three puppeteers who operate head, heart and hind. We feel his joy of life, his love towards humans and his anguish during the warfare. The humans are also given characters with whom we can identify - although almost but not quite upstaged in the comic stakes by a puppet goose. Robert Emms as Albert Narracot gives an outstanding performance as the youngster who grows into a man in the cauldron of the trenches. I loved the songs and the music by John Tams, once described by the Times as the best songwriter you may never have heard of. John joined the National Theatre in 1977 and was responsible for the music of "The Mysteries" and much beside. The recreation of the Dorset country life before the Great War was as beautiful and as idyllic as the recreation of the horror of war itself. Apparently the Queen herself slipped unannounced and without ceremony into a performance of this play (instigated and led by Prince Charles). I admired her for so doing and hoped she also felt the pangs as men were encouraged to leave the rural life to go and fight for king and country. The show is English through and through full of humour, grumbling, sibling rivalry, regimental pride, stupidity of war especially cavalry versus machine guns and tanks and the bravery of ordinary men to survive in the most appalling conditions and against the most dreadful odds. It is a compliment therefore that one of the best characters created and performed by Patrick O'Kane is Hauptmann Muller, a German cavalry officer. The character and the performance defeats all our inbuilt prejudices and he is seen as almost an every man. The adaptation of Morpurgo's book by Nick Stafford is stunning for reinforcing our belief in the basic humanity and goodness of man. We cared about Joey and we cared about the humans too. This was an uplifting and moving production and a piece of theatre I was delighted we made an effort to see. Its images and evoked emotions will live with me for a long time.
We had missed "War Horse" at the National before it transferred to the New London and this was our chance to catch it before the planned Lee Hall film goes into production (oh to be a film extra on that film!). We met the puppet of the war horse's mother backstage in the National Theatre scenic dock. I don't think I am giving anything away in saying that the horses in the show are magnificent creations by the Handspring puppet Theatre working is association with the National. Well, the model for the mother of Joey is to be found still at the National as she was cut from the final production. She was manned by three puppeteers as is Joey and it was fascinating to appreciate the skill and care with which she was constructed. It may have stolen a bit of the thunder seeing her backstage rather than getting a first glimpse of the horse onstage. However Joey's mother was cut because she lengthened the storyline unnecessarily it was decided. There had been a discussion as to what she was called and a bit of theatre spookiness overtook us here. At first they were going to call her Zoey but thought that was too much like Joey, so they changed her name to Alice! To those who know this blogger will realise those are the names we chose for the treasures of our lives, our two daughters!
"War Horse" was a magnificent piece of theatrical storytelling at its very best. The undoubted star is Joey and the three puppeteers who operate head, heart and hind. We feel his joy of life, his love towards humans and his anguish during the warfare. The humans are also given characters with whom we can identify - although almost but not quite upstaged in the comic stakes by a puppet goose. Robert Emms as Albert Narracot gives an outstanding performance as the youngster who grows into a man in the cauldron of the trenches. I loved the songs and the music by John Tams, once described by the Times as the best songwriter you may never have heard of. John joined the National Theatre in 1977 and was responsible for the music of "The Mysteries" and much beside. The recreation of the Dorset country life before the Great War was as beautiful and as idyllic as the recreation of the horror of war itself. Apparently the Queen herself slipped unannounced and without ceremony into a performance of this play (instigated and led by Prince Charles). I admired her for so doing and hoped she also felt the pangs as men were encouraged to leave the rural life to go and fight for king and country. The show is English through and through full of humour, grumbling, sibling rivalry, regimental pride, stupidity of war especially cavalry versus machine guns and tanks and the bravery of ordinary men to survive in the most appalling conditions and against the most dreadful odds. It is a compliment therefore that one of the best characters created and performed by Patrick O'Kane is Hauptmann Muller, a German cavalry officer. The character and the performance defeats all our inbuilt prejudices and he is seen as almost an every man. The adaptation of Morpurgo's book by Nick Stafford is stunning for reinforcing our belief in the basic humanity and goodness of man. We cared about Joey and we cared about the humans too. This was an uplifting and moving production and a piece of theatre I was delighted we made an effort to see. Its images and evoked emotions will live with me for a long time.
Review of the London Theatre Week 2009
The week went splendidly as the hotel was perfectly located and our choice of theatre going proved to be better than we had even anticipated. We even fitted in one or two cultural visits that reminded us how much the capital has to offer.
We stayed at the Bedford in Southampton Row. This was described as am intimate little hotel although staying on the sixth floor defied the description of little if even height wise. However our east facing window overlooked the roof of the British Museum. The location was perfect as we could walk to theatre land from the hotel. If we wished to go further afield or return after a theatre visit we found London buses, helpful and friendly drivers and our senior bus passes invaluable. One trip involved a visit by bus to the V&A museum. We weren't sure of the route as we changed from the planned 14 to another one as the direction board seemed to indicate it was going in the right direction. The driver told us we needed to get off at Exhibition Road. As we neared we panicked and actually got off the bus a couple of stops early. The bus remained stationary and we realised that the driver was beckoning to us stood outside the rear exit door. We re-entered through the front doors and he said he had told us to get off at Exhibition Road. Humbled we remained on the bus until we reached the correct bus stop and our driver even indicated where we had to go next to find the V&A, which is opposite the Science and Natural History Museums. We were impressed that the driver remembered us and our simple request after the distance the bus had travelled and through some of the worst traffic conditions. We were equally impressed on Thursday night on the return bus up Southampton Row after seeing "Annie Get Your Gun" at the Young Vic, we found ourselves sat in the seats directly behind Janine Duvitski and a friend. Janine was the neighbour Angela in Abigail's Party and has starred in Michael Frayn's play "Alphabetical Order" and much television and stage work.
Another casual piece of star spotting (and the Best Beloved and I are always on the look out when in London) was seeing Nigel Planer eating in the plate glass window of a cafe opposite the Shaftesbury Theatre where he is appearing in "Hairspray". We were on the way to another performance elsewhere. He was sitting at one of those counters with stools facing the outside world through the window. He seemed to be "surprised to be recognised" but did reward us with a smile (I last saw him perform in "Wicked" at the Apollo Victoria - a musical I had wanted to see - but failed to be moved by in the huge auditorium there).
We were also sat two rows behind Eileen Atkins in the John Lithgow event, "Stories by Heart", at the Lyttleton and four rows behind Michael Morpurgo at "War Horse" at the New London Theatre. I recognised Michael easily because the Best Beloved and I had met him at talked to him for quite a long while at an English Teachers' conference run by Hampshire. I repaid the favour by identifying him to some GCSE students in front of us who hunted him down for his autograph during the interval.
My next blog or two will try to identify the five productions we saw in some sort of order and review them. The nicest thing about the London Theatre Week is that we are thinking of repeating it in subsequent years as it proved so successful this time. We might have to postpone it until 2011 as we hope to go on another canal boat holiday in September in 2010 (although I will try my best to persuade the Best Beloved we can do both! Although she will read this blog and she will now be aware thus making my task more difficult... Drats! SQUIRREL!!!)
We stayed at the Bedford in Southampton Row. This was described as am intimate little hotel although staying on the sixth floor defied the description of little if even height wise. However our east facing window overlooked the roof of the British Museum. The location was perfect as we could walk to theatre land from the hotel. If we wished to go further afield or return after a theatre visit we found London buses, helpful and friendly drivers and our senior bus passes invaluable. One trip involved a visit by bus to the V&A museum. We weren't sure of the route as we changed from the planned 14 to another one as the direction board seemed to indicate it was going in the right direction. The driver told us we needed to get off at Exhibition Road. As we neared we panicked and actually got off the bus a couple of stops early. The bus remained stationary and we realised that the driver was beckoning to us stood outside the rear exit door. We re-entered through the front doors and he said he had told us to get off at Exhibition Road. Humbled we remained on the bus until we reached the correct bus stop and our driver even indicated where we had to go next to find the V&A, which is opposite the Science and Natural History Museums. We were impressed that the driver remembered us and our simple request after the distance the bus had travelled and through some of the worst traffic conditions. We were equally impressed on Thursday night on the return bus up Southampton Row after seeing "Annie Get Your Gun" at the Young Vic, we found ourselves sat in the seats directly behind Janine Duvitski and a friend. Janine was the neighbour Angela in Abigail's Party and has starred in Michael Frayn's play "Alphabetical Order" and much television and stage work.
Another casual piece of star spotting (and the Best Beloved and I are always on the look out when in London) was seeing Nigel Planer eating in the plate glass window of a cafe opposite the Shaftesbury Theatre where he is appearing in "Hairspray". We were on the way to another performance elsewhere. He was sitting at one of those counters with stools facing the outside world through the window. He seemed to be "surprised to be recognised" but did reward us with a smile (I last saw him perform in "Wicked" at the Apollo Victoria - a musical I had wanted to see - but failed to be moved by in the huge auditorium there).
We were also sat two rows behind Eileen Atkins in the John Lithgow event, "Stories by Heart", at the Lyttleton and four rows behind Michael Morpurgo at "War Horse" at the New London Theatre. I recognised Michael easily because the Best Beloved and I had met him at talked to him for quite a long while at an English Teachers' conference run by Hampshire. I repaid the favour by identifying him to some GCSE students in front of us who hunted him down for his autograph during the interval.
My next blog or two will try to identify the five productions we saw in some sort of order and review them. The nicest thing about the London Theatre Week is that we are thinking of repeating it in subsequent years as it proved so successful this time. We might have to postpone it until 2011 as we hope to go on another canal boat holiday in September in 2010 (although I will try my best to persuade the Best Beloved we can do both! Although she will read this blog and she will now be aware thus making my task more difficult... Drats! SQUIRREL!!!)
Sunday, October 18, 2009
London Theatre Week
The Best Beloved and I have been trying to work towards a three holidays per year pattern since retirement. It mainly means avoiding school holidays so the summer is spent here at home. We will try to maintain the pattern until the government punishes us baby boomers for the collapse of world finance. How does that work, by the way, we taxpayers lend the banking bastards millions if not billions and yet we have to pay for the privilege while they still continue exactly where they left off? All the political parties leap on the same bandwagon of swingeing cuts. Not one of them talks about demanding our money back or that big word "investment", which is different from sinking our money down a rotting mine shaft called world banking.
In the Autumn Best Beloved and I have to get through the Literary Festival Season and then we can consider an autumn break before the half term at the end of October. This year we have organised a London Theatre Week.
We go up by train on Monday afternoon (www.megatrain.com) and arrive at a hotel near Covent Garden. We then make our way (using our bus passes on London Transport) to the National Theatre for a backstage tour at about teatime. We stay on at the National Theatre to hear John Lithgow talk give a one man performance about storytelling, in which he performs two short stories.
On Tuesday we walk to Smithfield's for breakfast and spend most of the morning at the British Museum. The Best Beloved has never been and it has been some time since I have been there. The afternoon is available for undecided activities but possibly Imax cinema or more museum visits such as the War Museum in preparation for our evening entertainment. In the evening we are going to see "War Horse". I love the book and the author, who we were both met at an English teachers' conference.
On Wednesday probably the V&A museum, which neither have been to but we heard a great deal about recently on Radio 4 (our daytime companion). In the afternoon we are going to a matinee of "Speaking in Tongues" by the Australian playwright, Andrew Bovell. It stars John Simms and Ian Harte, two of my favourite actors. In the evening we are off to the Young Vic (where we have never been) to see and hear Jane Horrocks in "Annie Get Your Gun". I love musicals! This one has some great standards in it!
Our last day we are seeing a matinee of "Life's a Dream" at the Donmar starring Malcolm Storry, with whom the best Beloved went to College. The show also stars Dominic West (McNulty in "The Wire"), who is vying with Hugh Laurie as my favourite TV actor of the moment. Apparently Lucy has heard him speak and he is a typical RSC sounding actor which makes his performance as the Baltimore policeman all the more remarkable. In the evening we will wend our weary way home via the Corrigan restaurant in Upper Grosvenor Street.
Theatrically and gastronomically replete, we will return to a storytelling session by the Tale Tellers on the Saturday morning. The Best Beloved is telling the story of "Red Shoes". We put this one in the programme with insufficient research. Boy is it Hans Christian Anderson outdoing the Grimm Brothers! We have found that Ingy-Thingy (her Tale Teller name) is better than Guppy (my Tale Teller name) at getting the kids settled and happy to hear stories, which is why I usually tell the headline story. However this coming Saturday roles are reversed.
We are also then into the "Books Down" stage of "What the Butler Saw". This is always a frustrating stage as you build a good head of steam with books in hand. Lines going in isn't the difficulty but lines coming out on demand and in response to the correct cue is. The movement and pace gradually built up over previous rehearsals goes into hibernation but hopefully returns as lines become more secure. Stage management is fully employed during rehearsals providing the actors with the lines which are on the tips of tongues but never quite emerging from between the lips. ASMs become quite skilled at seeing the light of recognition and memory fade in an actor's eyes and know a prompt is probably overdue. Love and dependency grows between cast and crew.
The Guide Award Night clashes with a dress rehearsal for "What the Butler Saw" which is a pain but we only get four rehearsals on the set before first night and so that Monday night is too precious to be squandered on ego massage (pleasant though the latter is!)
I will use my blog to review the London Theatre Week over the next few weeks while planning our Winter Sun holiday in February 2010.
In the Autumn Best Beloved and I have to get through the Literary Festival Season and then we can consider an autumn break before the half term at the end of October. This year we have organised a London Theatre Week.
We go up by train on Monday afternoon (www.megatrain.com) and arrive at a hotel near Covent Garden. We then make our way (using our bus passes on London Transport) to the National Theatre for a backstage tour at about teatime. We stay on at the National Theatre to hear John Lithgow talk give a one man performance about storytelling, in which he performs two short stories.
On Tuesday we walk to Smithfield's for breakfast and spend most of the morning at the British Museum. The Best Beloved has never been and it has been some time since I have been there. The afternoon is available for undecided activities but possibly Imax cinema or more museum visits such as the War Museum in preparation for our evening entertainment. In the evening we are going to see "War Horse". I love the book and the author, who we were both met at an English teachers' conference.
On Wednesday probably the V&A museum, which neither have been to but we heard a great deal about recently on Radio 4 (our daytime companion). In the afternoon we are going to a matinee of "Speaking in Tongues" by the Australian playwright, Andrew Bovell. It stars John Simms and Ian Harte, two of my favourite actors. In the evening we are off to the Young Vic (where we have never been) to see and hear Jane Horrocks in "Annie Get Your Gun". I love musicals! This one has some great standards in it!
Our last day we are seeing a matinee of "Life's a Dream" at the Donmar starring Malcolm Storry, with whom the best Beloved went to College. The show also stars Dominic West (McNulty in "The Wire"), who is vying with Hugh Laurie as my favourite TV actor of the moment. Apparently Lucy has heard him speak and he is a typical RSC sounding actor which makes his performance as the Baltimore policeman all the more remarkable. In the evening we will wend our weary way home via the Corrigan restaurant in Upper Grosvenor Street.
Theatrically and gastronomically replete, we will return to a storytelling session by the Tale Tellers on the Saturday morning. The Best Beloved is telling the story of "Red Shoes". We put this one in the programme with insufficient research. Boy is it Hans Christian Anderson outdoing the Grimm Brothers! We have found that Ingy-Thingy (her Tale Teller name) is better than Guppy (my Tale Teller name) at getting the kids settled and happy to hear stories, which is why I usually tell the headline story. However this coming Saturday roles are reversed.
We are also then into the "Books Down" stage of "What the Butler Saw". This is always a frustrating stage as you build a good head of steam with books in hand. Lines going in isn't the difficulty but lines coming out on demand and in response to the correct cue is. The movement and pace gradually built up over previous rehearsals goes into hibernation but hopefully returns as lines become more secure. Stage management is fully employed during rehearsals providing the actors with the lines which are on the tips of tongues but never quite emerging from between the lips. ASMs become quite skilled at seeing the light of recognition and memory fade in an actor's eyes and know a prompt is probably overdue. Love and dependency grows between cast and crew.
The Guide Award Night clashes with a dress rehearsal for "What the Butler Saw" which is a pain but we only get four rehearsals on the set before first night and so that Monday night is too precious to be squandered on ego massage (pleasant though the latter is!)
I will use my blog to review the London Theatre Week over the next few weeks while planning our Winter Sun holiday in February 2010.
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Adieu, Party Guest
We gave our final performance of this year's Bench Theatre touring production of Jacquie Penrose's "Party Guest" yesterday. This has been the realisation of one of my retirement dreams - a small scale touring production during the daytime. The production still has life in it and we are looking forward to a revival in the Spring. The revival may still have a touring element. What has been lovely has been performing with friends who I admire and to young people. I have been really impressed by the students we have met, by their questions and their observations. I love theatre and learn something new every time I embark upon a new enterprise. David was quoting Stanislavsky at one workshop session: "The audience comes to the theatre to see the sub-text. They could stay at home to read the text." I love that thought and it is certainly light years away from my "learn the lines and don't bump into the furniture."
I did have a project in mind to put forward at the recent play selection pitches for the Bench Theatre July 2010. I have been toying with the idea for some considerable time. I could claim that the timing of the pitches was particularly poor for me. On the night itself was the first night of the Ghost Walks, we were into the second week of the literary festival, Party Guest was in full swing, we had started our Tale Tellers sessions at the spring, I was still recovering from a new Cloak and Dagger script and was cramming lines for my appearance as William Cobbett at the end of the festival. My head was certainly crammed with lines from five or six projects. I could claim that any one of these activities as a reason for my lack of push on the new production for the Bench.
It would be untrue if I claimed it to be so, though. I have read today the wonderful blogs by Alice in Wonderland and the Natty Chap, and must confess myself mightily impressed by them (and indirectly by my Firstborn, see Natty Chap's blog). I have thirty years on either of them but can relate keenly to what they are expressing. I can't offer them any help or insight. However I have to thank them for helping me to face up to what motivates me.
I have only directed 12 times over the last 30 years: two pantomimes - one repeated twice- and a full scale musical. The last time was the repeated pantomime in February 2000. I have to point out that I have done on average 2 or 3 school productions per year over that time so that must be in the nineties - many of which I wrote or devised myself. I like directing as I love visual images and have a feeling for sub text. I am a little too much of the school master in approach but hey I was a teacher for forty years!
I like directing but I love acting. After my episode two years ago I am enjoying my health and new lease of life. I would rather spend the time performing and acting than directing. I am constantly on the lookout for new experiences, new productions and new companies with which to work. While I am still feeling fit and active that is what I will continue to do. I don't want the responsibility of or commitment to a production as a director. I also don't want to parcel out my time. I don't want to wait until July 2010. I don't want to feel inhibited. Maybe when I am in my seventies and my physical strength and activity is gradually reducing (although the grey matter is still fully functioning) I can turn my attention to directing. Those who can, do - those who can't teach.
The Best Beloved also says we are going camping for a month in June 2010. Hurrah!!
I did have a project in mind to put forward at the recent play selection pitches for the Bench Theatre July 2010. I have been toying with the idea for some considerable time. I could claim that the timing of the pitches was particularly poor for me. On the night itself was the first night of the Ghost Walks, we were into the second week of the literary festival, Party Guest was in full swing, we had started our Tale Tellers sessions at the spring, I was still recovering from a new Cloak and Dagger script and was cramming lines for my appearance as William Cobbett at the end of the festival. My head was certainly crammed with lines from five or six projects. I could claim that any one of these activities as a reason for my lack of push on the new production for the Bench.
It would be untrue if I claimed it to be so, though. I have read today the wonderful blogs by Alice in Wonderland and the Natty Chap, and must confess myself mightily impressed by them (and indirectly by my Firstborn, see Natty Chap's blog). I have thirty years on either of them but can relate keenly to what they are expressing. I can't offer them any help or insight. However I have to thank them for helping me to face up to what motivates me.
I have only directed 12 times over the last 30 years: two pantomimes - one repeated twice- and a full scale musical. The last time was the repeated pantomime in February 2000. I have to point out that I have done on average 2 or 3 school productions per year over that time so that must be in the nineties - many of which I wrote or devised myself. I like directing as I love visual images and have a feeling for sub text. I am a little too much of the school master in approach but hey I was a teacher for forty years!
I like directing but I love acting. After my episode two years ago I am enjoying my health and new lease of life. I would rather spend the time performing and acting than directing. I am constantly on the lookout for new experiences, new productions and new companies with which to work. While I am still feeling fit and active that is what I will continue to do. I don't want the responsibility of or commitment to a production as a director. I also don't want to parcel out my time. I don't want to wait until July 2010. I don't want to feel inhibited. Maybe when I am in my seventies and my physical strength and activity is gradually reducing (although the grey matter is still fully functioning) I can turn my attention to directing. Those who can, do - those who can't teach.
The Best Beloved also says we are going camping for a month in June 2010. Hurrah!!
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Wayfarers Walk
I have done the section from my house to Emsworth, the start of the Wayfarers Walk, and I have done the section from my house north to Purbrook. Weather permitting I will do the Purbrook to Hambledon next. I don't mind cold and dry weather as I can build up quite a cosy fug walking but don't yet feel I am equipped sufficiently well for walking in the rain. I do have waterproof top and waterproof trousers but feel somewhat claustrophobic and restrained when wearing them. I am looking at a lightweight poncho or cape, which gives all over protection without stifling. It lets a current of air under the material without letting the rain through. There is also a product by Rohan, which is a calf length lightweight coat called the Hilltop Walker I think, which does a similar job. You only need to add waterproof trousers if wading through a flood.
The walking is on the back burner because of all my theatrical endeavours and I am certainly missing it on the health and vitality front. Also we are about to embark upon our Autumn Project for the garden. We have an overgrown patch in the south west corner of our garden which we have rather surrendered previously but which we intend to reclaim this autumn. The Best Beloved has some very firm ideas what she wants to do with the patch and, although no gardener, so do I. Once we get back from our London Theatre Week in October the daytime will once again be ours with the occasional rehearsal for "What the Butler Saw" thrown in until performances in November.
I see that other bloggers can add photos so perhaps I should do the same of before and after shots of our Garden Autumn Project and the Wayfarers Walk. Any advice on either will always be gratefully received.
The walking is on the back burner because of all my theatrical endeavours and I am certainly missing it on the health and vitality front. Also we are about to embark upon our Autumn Project for the garden. We have an overgrown patch in the south west corner of our garden which we have rather surrendered previously but which we intend to reclaim this autumn. The Best Beloved has some very firm ideas what she wants to do with the patch and, although no gardener, so do I. Once we get back from our London Theatre Week in October the daytime will once again be ours with the occasional rehearsal for "What the Butler Saw" thrown in until performances in November.
I see that other bloggers can add photos so perhaps I should do the same of before and after shots of our Garden Autumn Project and the Wayfarers Walk. Any advice on either will always be gratefully received.
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