Now, this was in The Forge - the other side of town, and one I've always meant to get the Overground to (it's cheaper) but never managed to leave in time (it's also the longest way to go). But hey - although yesterday was Wednesday, and my work at home days are supposed to be Thursday and Friday, I've switched (for the moment at least) to working from home on Wednesdays instead of Thursdays, because some meetings have been switched to Thursdays, and it's handier to be in the office for those. Short story - I was working from home yesterday, and could actually leave in time to take the Overground..
I was surprised when Google Maps sent me around via Willesden Junction, as before. I'd have thought I could get there quicker by taking a train in the other direction, from Clapham Junction, which is the terminus for two lines. But if you count, there are even more stations between Clapham Junction and Camden Road on the East London line than on the West London one. So I set off in good time, and hunkered down for a 40-minute trek - good job I'd picked up a paper on the platform!
I finished it well before getting to Camden Road. Turns out, although it's further than the Underground, it's still only a 10-minute walk from Camden Road Overground to The Forge. Do be very careful though - there are a couple of very large road junctions, with several possibilities, and while the correct route is quite easy, I wouldn't like to go down the wrong road.. Streetview is invaluable here. Turn right from the station, down Camden Road itself, and continue to Camden Town Underground Station. There are at least five roads here - you want the second left, down Camden High Street, keeping the large, redbrick building to your right. It's about the second right after that - Delancey Street, with the Blues Kitchen on the corner. The Forge is the next building along.
The performance area is at the back, past the bar. I've eaten here before, but decided against it last night - they tend to serve food on wooden platters, which annoys me. I arrived just as the house opened; someone in the group had suggested meeting beforehand for a drink, but by that stage it was too late to change my plans - turns out, in the end, she didn't get there early either! I was in time to get a decent seat, though.
Our storyteller came on a few minutes late - standard in London, I've begun to find, and fair enough - it can be very difficult for the audience to make it across town quickly. Dressed simply, in a long black dress and with feathers in her hair, she presented a dainty figure. And she wove us the tale of Solomon and Sheba - what you might call the eternal tale of birth, life, and death. Indeed, the scroll you can see, pinned to the curtain behind the stage, portrays the Ethiopian version of the story, and was gifted to her; she made reference to it during the story.
There's a real art to storytelling. She's the first female storyteller I've seen, and it was interesting to observe. She had a real knack with changing voices to depict different characters - or, more appropriately, different sorts of characters. Instruments of one kind or another were used extensively, to focus concentration.. they were used to create a most sensual experience. And the whole was an absolute delight, an antidote to some of the other harrowing things I attended this week! I'm really looking forward to my next outing with this group.
Despite the walk not being too long, I was freezing on my way back - it was a bitterly cold night. Mercifully, although I had to change trains (trains don't run straight to Clapham Junction from past Willesden Junction after about 9), I didn't have to wait too long. But it was too late to blog.
Which brings us to today - a very busy day, at the end of which I'd booked to go with the Man with the Hat (Let's Do London - for less!) to an intriguingly titled play - This Will End Badly, at Southwark Playhouse. Despite the ominous title, it seemed booking was good for this. Firstly, I was intrigued to see how Google Maps would suggest I get there from Clapham Junction - I suspected there'd be a bus, and I was right. The 344 would take me right there, and was the simplest and cheapest - if slowest - way to go. But I had time, if I left rapidly..
The stop I had to leave from turned out to be the closest to me - right across Falcon Road. Goodness though, I was glad I'd chosen a bus to get me there early - despite the timetable promising one every 10-12 minutes, it was about 20 minutes before one arrived. It was one of those stops that service multiple buses, too - and we carefully watched every bus that arrived. I'd almost given up by the time the 344 materialised - well, at least I got a seat, and hunkered down for what was supposed to be a 35-minute trip.
The last time I took a bus to Southwark Playhouse, it was during a Tube strike.. the traffic was similar this evening. The bus was 10 minutes later than advertised in coming - the journey itself took 15 minutes longer than expected. I was so glad I was early - I arrived at the theatre fully 25 minutes after I'd expected to. But the house still wasn't open - still, we had an interesting chat until it did, 10 minutes before the show started. I'd have liked food, had I had time..
Well, this is a one-man show, and the one man is on display right from the moment you walk in the door - pacing a square, elevated stage, with a - toilet - on it. Tiled floor, lightbulb overhead - no other detail. And as we took our seats - and waited, since this, too started a bit late - we noticed that, as the lightbulb flickered, he took on different personas. The observant person beside me noted three.
Advertised as 65 minutes, without interval - in fact, a little less, but none the less impressive. The subject matter could be guessed at from the numerous fliers about suicide that were sperad along the seats. Our sole actor portrays three very different men - one that might be described as a "lost soul", pursuing an unusual career: one whose girlfriend has just left him, and who is experiencing unusual symptoms as a result: and one highly confrontational character, maintaining eye contact with the audience as he analyses us.
80s vintage Duran Duran is playing softly as we enter - track after track - and blares to a crescendo as the play proper starts. And from then on, we're treated to a barrage of words. Someone remarked afterwards what a great technical feat it was, and she was right - for the duration, the actor barely draws breath. By the end, he's literally frothing at the mouth.
And over the course of the hour, the plot darkens - the first two characters mentioned describe their lives getting worse, while the confrontational one reveals his true motive - his story takes the longest to decipher. The actor does a brilliant job of switching his demeanour to portray the different characters.. it was intense, and I found myself concentrating so hard that I suddenly realised, towards the end, that it was a long time since I'd moved at all (I was almost afraid to breathe) and I was quite stiff.. Incredibly powerful, movingly played, disturbing, stunningly good. Damn funny as well, almost inappropriately for the subject matter. Best thing I've seen for quite a while. Go see - runs until 6th.
Afterwards, many of us hung around for a drink, but not too many. And we were out of there by 10. On the way home, I was to discover that my bus stop was closed! (road works) and my phone battery chose that time to die. As I decided to trot back to the other stop to check the map, behold and lo, my bus pulled up at a temporary stop I hadn't noticed - and I was home in 25 minutes.
Tomorrow, I'm doing something less harrowing - I'm back with the World Music Meetup for a concert I'm very much looking forward to - Sufi Chants from Andalusia. On Saturday I'm attending what I think will be my very first Meetup with the Spooky London group, who are running a convivial evening chat about vampires. And on Sunday, I'm with London's Secrets, Tales and Legends, for an enticing walk in Highgate, entitled The Village of the Damned: Ghosts, Drugs and Legends.
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