..Well, the correct one for the time being; I'm moving again next month, paid a holding deposit today. You'd think I actually enjoy it! No, I just have the most horrible, noisy, dirty, flatmates - and I'm easygoing, so you know they must be bad. Well, I lucked out on the new place - much nicer, with fitted wardrobes, half the distance to work, and substantially cheaper to boot! Anyway, with all of that angst, and having to schlep out to Stepney Green to make the arrangements, I was a bit exhausted by evening.
Well, I made my way to Wyndham's without having to check my route - I should know this area well enough! I was glad I'd brought a fairly heavy coat, which I closed against a stiff breeze. Ran into the evening's organiser outside, where she was taking a photo of the entrance. We were to meet in the Royal Circle Bar - which is just a mite confusing, as it's actually between the Royal Circle and the Grand Circle, serving both. It got a bit cramped too, as it filled up before the performance - lovely space, though, where we chatted beforehand. Plenty of old friends to catch up with!
When we went in, I was glad to be in the lower part of the Grand Circle - Row D is the last row in this section, before you start having to climb more stairs. I was right at the edge of the row, and I have to say, it's a good seat - decent view (just a corner of the stage obscured), swing your legs to the side if you need more legroom: and there's space for your stuff, although careful with that, because there are steps up to the seat:
It's about 90 minutes, straight through, and is based on the true story of Mark Rothko, a contemporary artist based in New York, who's been commissioned to produce a series of paintings for the Four Seasons Restaurant. The only other character on stage is his assistant, apparently an amalgam of several in his lifetime, to whom Rothko becomes a teacher and mentor. The title refers to his obsessive, you might say, use of the colour red in his paintings - I don't know that he was as particular about that colour in real life, but apparently he did experiment with colour.
It's brilliantly written - eloquent and impassioned, as the two artists bicker on stage, and Rothko defends his art. The audience is used as, literally, a fourth wall, which they stare at while contemplating a painting we can't see - an effect that I daresay works best from the stalls. A variety of Rothko's paintings (in red) are faithfully reproduced, and one after another is brought out and mounted, for our inspection - I came to the conclusion that they were, in themselves, telling part of the story. It's just a pity that contemporary art is something that leaves me completely cold, because otherwise I think this would have been a terrific experience.
Afterwards, we headed down to the stalls for a Q+A:
..which, I must say, was one of the better Q+As I've been to, with the actors and director giving a highly entertaining turn as they took questions from the audience. The show is currently booking until the 28th of July, and will probably prove popular.
Afterwards, I was glad to get in from the bitter night air to the the Hippodrome, across the road, where, as before, we headed to the first-floor bar. Those who were staying gathered chairs in a circle in the lounge, and a couple of us ordered food from the waitress - me, I had "chicken tenders", which even she called "nuggets", and came with a dip that was way too spicy for me. The nuggets were nice, though. And we had another convivial chat, about things related to theatre, and film, and associated matters. My chair was a bit hard, mind.. but it was a good night. Despite the shivery wait for a bus to get home, having missed one by seconds.
Tomorrow, I'm headed with London Social Detours to a talk on Shakespeare and the Wandering Mind, at the Wanamaker Playhouse - my first trip there in over a year, goodee! They were sold out when I tried, which is why I'm willing to go with her and pay her booking fee.. Payable on the day, so I'd better get some more cash out. And then I'm back to Ireland for the weekend.
No comments:
Post a Comment