Play: The Examination

Well, made it back to Ireland. Aer Lingus, because I left it too late to book with Ryanair, and the evening flights were gone. And I have to say, for all that I had to pay a ridiculous amount, the experience was so much better. Heathrow is quicker to get to than Stansted if you use the Heathrow Express, and the departure lounge is so much more relaxed and comfortable - ergonomic seats are a joy, everyone is so much more relaxed, and the layout isn't half as intimidating. As for Aer Lingus - funnily enough, no-one checked my passport until customs in Ireland; electronic gates sped up boarding, and the seats are oh, so much more comfortable - leather rather than plastic. I slept most of the way - definitely needed it. Plus the aircon worked much better! and the staff were friendlier. Oh, and there was no delay - Ryanair can never match that.It was also lovely to have checked in my case (for free) and not have to drag it around with me.

For this evening, I booked a play called The Examination at the Lime Tree Theatre. Happily, they texted me a link to my ticket today.. always handy. So, off to Limerick with me - a bit early, so I could shop for a tv beforehand; the tv in my mother's kitchen broke, and the one she brought down from her bedroom is really a bit small. We needed a 24'' - I checked Argos before I left, but unfortunately they didn't have one at that branch. Well, I never anticipated such trouble finding a 24'' tv - I tried Tesco first, but they didn't have anything under 32'', which wouldn't fit. Then a few more places that I thought might do tvs, but didn't. Finally, Google Maps suggested Soundstore. I'd never been there before - took me two passes through Limerick's business parks before I found it, and then I had to go around again, because I'd passed the entrance and couldn't turn around.

At first, I thought they didn't have what I wanted - then I spied the smaller tvs, snuggled to the side, and two that fit the bill. I caught the attention of a salesman - he asked when I wanted it for, because the cheaper one, they'd have to order. (You what?!) Which meant nobody could work on it till Tuesday, Monday being a bank holiday, and so I wouldn't get it until Wednesday or Thursday. Eh, no thanks.. so I plumped for the more expensive one, in which case he was prepared to sell me the display model, as they were discontinuing the line. He discounted it slightly, it being the display model. They had to dig for the box in the back, mind - and here was I, willing them to hurry, because I was in danger of missing my play. Google Maps proved my saviour, however, finding me a really direct route there (and hallelujah, traffic was light!), and I arrived with five minutes to spare. No time for the bar, sadly - and actually, I was parched..

They don't seem to be selling the front row for this production, and I was one of a small number who sat in the second row - dead centre:

That white structure to the left is generally used as a screen, on which numerous projections are displayed over the course of the show. First on stage - is a gorilla. Who turns out to be a guy in a gorilla suit. Then we have a chap in a regular suit, who addresses us as though we are attending a lecture. The guy dressed as a gorilla gradually sheds some of his suit, which must be a relief, as I've always heard these are very hot, and indeed you'd expect it, being so thick and hairy..

In short, this is about the Irish prison system. The chap with the mic, giving the lecture, begins with a nod to phrenology, the idea that you can determine personality traits given the shape of the head. He focuses particularly on criminal tendencies, and displays a photograph - of the guy in the gorilla suit, as it turns out. Of course, it's no accident that he's in a gorilla suit - he's being portrayed as an animal, and although the guy with the mic seems friendly, and invites the "gorilla" to relate what are apparently real-life accounts of prison life, as the play progresses, it becomes more and more obvious that he's got a reactionary attitude to prisoners. And we discover the reason for this, near the end. As for the "gorilla", as he sheds more and more of his costume, he seems to become more and more vocal, defending himself as a prisoner, and defending others whose accounts he relates. 

It's consistently hard-hitting - the guy with the mic represents a common attitude among the middle classes, a dismissal of prisoners, a disparaging attitude towards their complaints, and a real rage about the perceived injustice of mollycoddling criminals while their victims are left to sink or swim. The prisoner in the gorilla suit, however, has real horror stories to tell. Apparently, a serious amount of research went into this, and it paid off. But it is hard-hitting, so be warned. Showing again tomorrow (Saturday) night. Oh, and a soundtrack of Bowie! So, something to enjoy among the grittiness. 

Now, my mother is doing quite well in allowing me out in the evenings - obviously because I'm back for an extended period. Which might mean I can get to the cinema tomorrow. Top of a short list is The Pope's Exorcist, which stars Russell Crowe as the real-life Fr. Gabriele Amorth. Looks ok - and I'm rather more convinced by a review I found than by the clip on the IMDB page.. as he says, the best thing about it is Russell Crowe, whose first horror film this is! The review, BTW, is quite decent, if a little repetitive - could have done with some editing. But he sounds like he knows his stuff. Says that, apart from Russell Crowe being in it, it's quite a bog-standard horror - with good effects. Anyway, we shall see.. earliest showing is in the Omniplex.

For Sunday, I'm at a concert at the University Concert Hall, Limerick - Dolans Presents Scott Bradlees Postmodern Jukebox.

Now, I have an old friend, Vicki, in Cork, whom I usually go down to see once a year, staying the night - usually at Christmas, but she was too busy for me last Christmas. So we've arranged for me to go and stay on Tuesday, coming back on Wednesday. Now, that realistically means I can't fly to London before Thursday - but with nothing unmissable next Friday, I'm flying back that day instead. I checked on my holiday request, and it looked approved..

On Thursday, I might think of Plan 75, showing at the Belltable as part of the Japanese Film Festival - people aged 75 or older are given the option of assisted suicide, with free burial, and a $1000 grant to do with as they please..

I definitely have to be back in London for the 15th though, when I'm booked on another walk with Laurence Summers and the 45+ Not Grumpy Old Londoners! This one is A City built by a Genius - Wren's London. And as of now, he's scheduling walks I haven't done for days I can make them! Very cool.. because I do love his walks. And lunches.

Now, my boss suggested - quite a while ago - that we might have a jaunt to the head office in Tel Aviv on the 16th! I hadn't heard anything since, though - so I finally asked him. He confirmed that it won't be until at least next month now - wants to get the latest release out. So I'll be in London that week. However, there isn't honestly much coming up on Meetup - so, for the 19th, I've booked For Black Boys Who Have Considered Suicide.. at the Apollo. I have a front-row seat in the Dress Circle - now, I seem to remember ridiculously tight legroom, here - so I'm at the end of a row, and Seatplan says it'll be OK if I lean forward..

On the 20th, I'm with TAC for a talk on Arab & Islamic Roots of Europe's Architecture, at St. Mary Magdalene Church.

Then it's back to Ireland for the weekend. On the 24th, back with Up in the Cheap Seats for The Secret Life of Bees, at the Almeida - no seats left in the stalls! Seatplan made me wary of the cheapest seats, so I'm in the next bracket up..

And on the 25th, back with Over 40 Living the Life, for dinner at the Greenwich Yacht Club again. Well, it was good last time - good food, cheap prices, good company. Three of us going so far - I'm sure there'll be more!

Concert: Saint-Saens' Cello Concerto & Opera: Griselda

With my mother's birthday today - and not having any major holidays booked - I said, why not just take the week off and spend it in Ireland? So I am. Now, I don't usually go to things when I'm over, as she doesn't get out much any more - but she mentioned to me that there'd been a newspaper article about a performance of Griselda - the first time a Vivaldi opera would be performed in Ireland - tonight only, at the Limetree, and suggested I go. Or, she suggested, there might be something else. Well, the range of nearby venues is limited, so it didn't take long to check - and when I came up with a performance of Saint-Saens' Cello Concerto, with soloist Sheku Kanneh-Mason (the soloist at the Sussexes' wedding), for last night, at the University Concert Hall - I thought that sounded rather unmissable too. So I booked both.

Yesterday was the first rainy day in a few days! so it decided to make up for it by being miserable. I had some errands to run in Limerick that day, so decided to eat near the university - there used to be a good Chinese across the road. Sadly, when I got there, I discovered it's been replaced by another eatery that I didn't fancy. The new restaurant at the university also seems to have vanished. So I fell back on the old reliable of the bar at the Castletroy Park Hotel. Found a parking space quite near the door - which was handy, as it was pouring rain.

Well, the bar here keeps changing its name - but some things never change. I was sat at my table for 10 minutes before I caught anyone's eye to give me a menu. Ordered soup - always advertised as vegetable, it's always a bit sweet, and always looks like a curry: but I like it very much. And I thought I'd have the actual curry for main course. I also ordered a glass of wine.

The soup was served with bread and butter, and without any cutlery. Or a napkin. I figured he'd be getting me those presently - I mentioned to him about my glass of wine, which hadn't yet arrived, and he said someone would bring it soon. (I guess that wasn't in his job description.) Well, seems he wasn't on his way to get me cutlery - perhaps that wasn't in his job description either. I had to wait till I grabbed someone else's attention to get a spoon - then realised I hadn't mentioned the lack of a knife, which I needed to butter the bread, so she had to go back again. A napkin never occurred to her, and I figured I could do without that. Funnily enough, watching where she went, I could see that the cutlery was right beside the kitchen door that the guy had to come out of with the food he was serving. Oh, and the soup was lovely, BTW.

I'd just finished it when the guy who'd taken my order - who hadn't served me after (do they have really segregated jobs here?!) - suddenly noticed that I didn't have any wine! (Happily, I had a large jug of iced water - and even a glass.) He was rather shocked - 20 mins had passed, after all, since he'd - I presume - told someone. So I got wine shortly after. Then my main course arrived, and the waiter asked whether I needed anything else. "A knife and fork?" sez I. He laughed. And I got a napkin with them, even! Pity the curry was quite bland, and the chicken a bit tough - I was sorry I'd gone for that, and shall try to remember not to go for that again. If I come back.

Not a hope I was ordering dessert - even had I fancied anything on the menu, it was time I headed over - parking is tight on concert nights. Naturally, to save time, I walked up to the till to pay - I'd still be there if I waited for someone to bring me the bill. As I paid, I casually remarked that it was hectic that night. He replied that they were inundated, and he had no idea why! Uh, maybe the concert across the road?! Jeez, if they get this flustered every time there's an event in the university - and they're the closest restaurant to the university - I suggest they be avoided on event nights!

Took a while to turn onto the busy main road.. I did get a space down the back of the car park: too far from the door, had my mother come along, but fine for me. The place has changed a bit since I was last there - right from the entrance doors, where they've removed the central, revolving door and replaced it with swing doors, and the side doors are now for disabled access only. They've also replaced the notice boards with a set of changing, electronic displays on one side, and a swish welcome panel on the other!

Upstairs, more surprises - where I spent some time as a PhD student (the research area) is now an outpost of the law department!

And there's now a permanent bar, with decor to match the revamped box office, and much more cafe-style seating on both sides. Yes, someone has really put a lot of thought into it.

I had a glass of wine while I waited for the house to open - it didn't open as soon as it should have, and there was no seating available, so I watched an introductory, aerial video of the campus, on a loop on a screen to the side. I just had time to finish my drink before the doors opened - and had much more, by the time they actually let us in! (There was a problem scanning print-at-home tickets - since I don't have printing facilities at my mother's, I elected to pick mine up at the box office: strangely, though, it arrived by post.)

My seat was in the row we always favoured - Row P has an aisle in front of it, so no-one to block your view: and also a railing, handy for coats, or umbrellas or walking sticks with hooks. I'd forgotten how nice and close to the stage that row is, here! Anyway, the performance was by the ICO, whose administration is based here - and the MC, in his introductory blurb, mentioned that the ICO Youth Orchestra had been performing, which would explain all the young people with instruments, roaming the halls. He also mentioned that this was this soloist's debut performance in Ireland, wooh!

The programme started with some Beethoven - recognisably so, it couldn't have been anyone else. And I was happy, as he's my favourite. This was followed by our star performer, and Saint-Saens' Cello Concerto. A beautiful piece, played with passion and intensity - this finished the first half, and jeez, at the end, he got an almost complete standing ovation, and came on for five bows. Following which, he decided we'd earned an encore, and played some piece that involved plucking the strings. And he finally walked off, carrying the cello like a child, still plucking.. some good showmanship, there.

At the interval, I had some ice cream from the usher - figured I deserved a dessert. The soloist came and went through a door near me, and I couldn't but notice how open he was to all his fans. And how many matronly women were acting like simpering, awestruck teenagers. But he was happy to pose for photos, and selfies, until his minder hurried him away.. to a seat in the front stalls, from which he watched the rest of the concert.

The second half started with a modern piece - Meltwater was better than I've come to expect from modern classical music, and quite nicely evoked glaciers cracking and melting. And our evening finished with a lovely piece by Bizet. Delighted I went, and it was great to see what they've done to the place. Most nostalgic too - I've spent more time on that campus than anywhere else in my adult life!

Today started teeming, but the rain dried off by early afternoon. To be replaced, of course, by bitter cold - no good at all for my sensitive nose. Anyway, I had to take my mother for her flu jab, so had to rise early - no blogging. After yesterday's hoo-ha with food, I ate at my mother's, and headed in later. Just nicely in time to get petrol, find the college, find parking, and make my way to the building with the theatre in it. Now, it's a building on two levels - the theatre, from the side I approached, is on the first floor, and my, but there's a long flight of steps up to it, and to the box office, whose sign is just tantalisingly visible from the bottom. There is a motivational sign, mind:

Panting, I reached the top, queued, and got my ticket. At least they hadn't taken it upon themselves to post it! Meanwhile, I noted the positive development - like the UCH - of more seating round about. Not, of course, that I got any - you have to get here quite early. Never mind, the house was soon open - and I had B1, at the edge of what turned out to be the front row; they hadn't seated anyone in the very front, because they had to squish the orchestra in there. The Irish Baroque Orchestra, as it turned out, and with just a couple of unusual instruments:

The staging, as you'll notice, was split-level - and video screens displayed, like CCTV, what was happening in various parts of the stage. Or what they wanted us to imagine was - a handy way of making it all more realistic. Also handy for seeing what was happening in the corners we couldn't see from the edge..

Again, if you're at all familiar with Vivaldi, this is recognisably a composition of his. I kept noticing familiar riffs. Anyway, this is the story of a king (of Thessaly) who repudiates his wife, Griselda, because - apparently - public opinion has convinced him that she's too "common". However, her enduring love for him, and for their son, keeps her hanging around - so you never know what'll happen!

Lovely music, gorgeously sung. Very blingy costumes, on the part of the upper classes at least. The only thing is.. being baroque, it has all these extra flourishes. And it's as though Vivaldi, upon writing what he considered to be a "good bit", decided to emphasise it. So you find tracts of singing, repeated as many as six times in a row. Continually, throughout. I found myself counting the repetitions, with some irritation. But I did ultimately get into it - and I must say, fair play to them for finding a different way to act, on each repetition! A nice production - and again, great to get back here and see what's happened in my absence.
Nothing else planned for my stay. Back to London on Sunday. On Monday, the Crick Crack Club is back again - Ben Haggarty is in Soho Theatre with Grim Grimms - a dark take on fairytales, highlighting four lesser-known tales of the brothers Grimm. With musical accompaniment. Tickets weren't available when I noted this in my calendar - they have now, predictably, sold out.

On Tuesday, I'm trying to persuade the social group from my former company to come with me to a Design My Night event - Fright Night Cinema is showing Hallowe'en in the Rivoli ballroom, with a themed cocktail bar and people dressed in spooky costumes. Now, that sounds like fun.. I've booked, at least, and a couple of others have indicated they'll come, with one from Friday expressing interest.

On Wednesday, back with Meetup at last - Up in the Cheap Seats is at a mixed programme by Birmingham Royal Ballet, at Sadler's Wells. I've seen part of it before, and it's excellent.

For Hallowe'en, The Embers Collective stepped up to the plate, with a storytelling performance called Witch, at The Jago.

On the 1st, meeting Ivan.. venue TBC.

And on the 2nd, I booked with Best Authentic Walking Tours in London, for a Royal Maritime Greenwich Ghost Tour. Now, this is - as with all their walks - with Funzing, so I can get a refund up to 48 hours beforehand. Which I knew I'd probably do (have, in fact, done for this twice already), as I might have gone to a film that day - depending what was on - or, if I didn't like the offerings, Love London Theatre, Arts, Music & Stuff is off to Blood Wedding, a new adaptation of the Lorca play, at the Young Vic. But I now see that's sold out - was bound to happen. Well, I finally did come up with an alternative that made me cancel the ghost tour - another ghost tour! specifically, of the British Museum, with Spooky London. I mean, technically I could probably go to both - I just couldn't be bothered rushing the first to traipse all the way out to Greenwich, for an event that wouldn't be at all sociable! Might get on that walk some day.

Play: A Great Arrangement

Back to Ireland every second weekend, and hardly ever anything to go to - not anything near enough to be feasible, anyway, and that my mother would also enjoy. So when A Great Arrangement came up, it sounded like that elusive thing we could go to. She agreed, and I booked. On in the Limetree, and she suggested we eat in the Castletroy Park Hotel. I hadn't travelled from there to the Limetree before, but when I looked it up, it was easy - down Childers Road, turn off just before Lidl, and straight ahead till you come to the main entrance to Mary Immaculate College, where it's located. 15 minutes.

We were relieved, when we arrived, to find no sign of a wedding - this is a major venue for them, and they do tend to spill over into the bar. When we're eating at the Castletroy Park, we don't go for the main restaurant - we prefer the bar, which used to be called the Merry Pedlar, and is now "The Brasserie". I guess this was inspired by the knocking down of the back wall, opening it to the other public areas, and making it lighter and brighter.

Their soup is always excellent, so I had that. Decided to have steak, for a change - and o my, what an excellent idea that was! The lamb t-bone was the cheaper steak, so I had that. And it was fine - the real stars of the dish, though, were the roast potatoes, the mash (which was supposed to be minty, which I couldn't taste, but was tasty nonetheless).. and the gorgeous whiskey and pepper sauce that I doused everything with. Gosh, I should start looking for dishes with whiskey in 'em - I always seem to love it! Dessert was an "artist's platter" - ice cream of three different colours, with sauces of accompanying colours, sloshed messily around the plate. Calling this artistic is really pushing it, and the ice cream wasn't the best - I wouldn't bother with it again. But that sauce with the steak was truly memorable..

We left in plenty of time for the Limetree - I actually beat Google Maps' estimate, and got there in about 10 minutes. That turn-off by Lidl, which was the first part of the journey that was new to me, was clearly signposted for "Mary Immaculate", and the later signpost - a confusing one, shown on Google, that directed you to the offices, which wasn't the way I needed to go - wasn't there any more. Instead, before I knew it, I was upon the large, concrete entrance to the college.

Pass the first car park on the left, head for the second - then head to the second section of it, which has the closest spaces to the entrance to the Limetree. We were still early - doors weren't supposed to open until half past, and actually didn't open until about 7:50. And the dreadful thing about here - especially considering the elderly demographic of the audience - is that there's really no seating while you're waiting. O yes, there's a bar - you just stand. Would it kill them to scatter a few chairs about the place, before a show? There is a kind of bench seating, down some steps- not suitable for people with limited mobility. It's something to bear in mind if attending here with elderly companions.

When they finally did open the doors, we made our way upstairs, as we'd booked for the back section - it has a ledge in front of it that my mother likes. And there's a lift. And the upstairs door wasn't open, the light inside it was off.. another couple were with us, and we dithered in confusion until someone appeared behind the door, and let us in. Poor management, but we did get in eventually. I remember the last time we were here, we'd booked the same row, but the house was so empty we ended up sitting much further down - not this time.. the place was packed. Including a group of schoolboys that filed in just before the show start time.

Because, you see, this is a historical piece, and would have been educational for them. Five actors portray the Irish Republican Michael Collins, his fiancee Kitty Kiernan, and sundry other characters. In fact, the actors portraying the aforementioned two characters are the only ones who get to keep the same character throughout - the others are forced to switch through an absolute array of them.

The events of the play centre on the negotiations for Irish independence in London in 1921, in which Collins led the Irish delegation. The thing is just about decided by the end of the first half, and debated in the Dáil in the second, when that massive (and somewhat grubby) Union Jack is pulled down to reveal a tricolour underneath. The whole play is based on historical documents of the time. And we're taken briefly through the ensuing civil war, and in a short bullet list, it's explained how Ireland finally gained the status of a republic in 1949.

Because, of course - as is a matter of record - the treaty agreed in 1921 didn't provide republican status. No, that wouldn't have been acceptable to the British - instead, Ireland was offered dominion status, as with Canada. That, or a return to the open warfare of the War of Independence. Now, Collins had had enough of war, and he - and the other plenipotentiaries - decided that equal status with the likes of Canada was much better. But, you know, the Republicans back home didn't agree - and given that the treaty meant swearing an oath of allegiance to the crown, and retaining British naval bases in Ireland, you can hardly blame them. Still, when De Valera led his delegates in a walk-out from the Dáil, starting a civil war, you'd have to wonder about his motives in sending Collins over to negotiate at all. No wonder, as Collins remarked after the signing of the treaty, he'd signed his own death warrant - and indeed, it's not much of a spoiler that he was assassinated in 1922.

To this end, whenever he's on stage talking politics, it's underscored by an ominous, low drone. This is, in fact, a very powerful piece - as one review of a previous performance stated, more of a history lesson than a full-blown play, with the three other actors (the multi-character ones) at the back, rattling off facts and figures. Still, they've dramatised it wonderfully. And those three actors give an absolute masterclass in dialect, switching effortlessly between Irish and English accents to portray people on different sides of the argument - one, in fact, does three, also portraying the prime minister, the Welsh Lloyd George! He also gives the most fantastic impersonation of De Valera, donning a pair of round glasses, a pinched voice and a mincing stance.

Light relief is provided by Kitty Kiernan, whom that review described as "a lightweight", and someone on the way out described as "wishy-washy". She comes across as completely apolitical, talking about dances and romances - possibly a less girlish actor would have come across a bit better, but at least it does give us a break from all the serious stuff happening around them.

Highly recommended, and deserving of the almost complete standing ovation it received - I've rarely seen such enthusiasm from a crowd, here. Sadly, there was no mention on the flier of what theatre company is showing it, but I did see that it's on a tour of the island, culminating in the MAC in Belfast from Thursday to Saturday of next week. If you happen to see it advertised in your area, do try and go.

The rest of my weekend was too busy to blog, culminating in a dinner in the Abbey Tavern yesterday before my flight. Which was lovely - but I missed that whiskey sauce! Tonight and tomorrow are devoted to the Man with the Hat. Tonight, he's taking Let's Do London - for Less! to Southwark Playhouse, for Punkplay - as the name implies, all about punk. On roller skates, I believe. And tomorrow, he's taking London for Less than a Tenner to Soho Theatre, to see Two Man Show. Which, as you might expect, has two women in it. Talking about men. I managed to secure the day after both of these shows working from home - in anticipation of late nights!

On Wednesday, I'm back with London Literary Walks - this one is called the Tate Switch Walk. And on Thursday, I'm delighted to be going on my first pre-Hallowe'en event.. London for a Tenner or Less (NOT the same as the above group), and therefore Funzing, have organised a Ghosts and Executions tour. Cool - I missed the first date of this, but they do tend to repeat them.

Opera: Rigoletto

This having been one of my weekends in Ireland, when my mother told me that Rigoletto was playing in the Limetree on Saturday, and I saw we could still get tickets, I booked. The front section was completely booked out, but I managed to get a pair of tickets in the front row of the rear section - Row O, equivalent to her favourite row in the Concert Hall (Row P): has an aisle in front of it, you see, so no heads in your way.

Last time we went to the Limetree, we ate in Quin on the way - and did the same this time. Mind you, having only made the trip once before, I had to look up my route from Quin: but it wasn't as difficult, second time round. The Abbey Tavern was busy as ever, and when we took a seat, we discovered that the owner must've been feeling the cold; the radiators were, as my mother described it, "hopping". We had our usuals, my chicken supreme a bit burnt this time, and didn't feel like dessert. My mother met a neighbour though, and had a good old chat.

What a change in the weather - it had been gloriously sunny all day, but when we went out it was lashing rain. You know, I'd brought my velvet coat to wear, but changed my mind at the last minute when I got an email from the venue that explained that this was a modern production, set in gangland, so I thought it might be overkill, and wore my duffel coat instead. Boy was I glad of that..

It's not too far to the motorway, when you know which way to go, and we were soon there. And then there was a harum-scarum drive down the motorway, visibility very low with both lashing rain, and plumes of mist rising from the road surface as the cars tore along it. I was glad to turn off at last - Junction 4 (Caherdavin), that's what I'd had to look up. Happens along just as you're beginning to get worried you're going to have to pay the toll - it's the last turning before the toll plaza. Then a straight run into Limerick city centre and onto the Dock Road, where I stopped for petrol. It was the handiest, but I was gratified not to find anywhere cheaper since!

We arrived really early, and it was handy to have been before and know where the entrance to the theatre was. As someone remarked later in the evening, this is a really badly designed building - awkward to get where you want to. I went in first, to check whether there were random chairs left around - there is no dedicated seating area here, and my mother couldn't have stood all that time! I spied two chairs, wantonly left unattended in a corridor, so brought her in and nabbed them while she was trying to figure out how to close her new walking-stick umbrella - not easy, as it turns out. (It was still lashing rain, of course.)

After a while, they set up a table on the other side of the lobby, where I bought a programme, and they were also setting up for a wine reception - I was told it was for invited guests, but I might be able to sneak a glass. But we were sat in front of where the bar was going to open at the same time as the reception started, so decided we'd stick with that. When it did finally open, it was an interesting thing to watch - a key operated a switch at the side, which lifted the canopy, and presumably turned on the recessed lights in it at the same time. The workers also rolled out four blocks on castors, and spaced them out in front of the bar. Then one felt underneath the bottom edge of each, for a light switch, as it turned out! Each lit up an image of branches, and also a letter - they spelt "lime", when ordered correctly. And it was handy that the one that said "e" was low enough to be used as a seat. Mind you, we did discover, as we were waiting, that the classrooms are left open, so you could just run in there and grab as many chairs as you wanted.

As we waited, we could listen to the lovely sound of rehearsals from the theatre, whose door had been left open. Until two idiots decided to just walk on in, before the allotted time, and the organisers decided it was better to close the doors. When they did finally let us in, we had a trek through the lobby-ful of people who hadn't realised yet that we couldn't go in - or didn't care. We needed to get around to the other side, you see, to the lift - my mother found it easier than the stairs. Actually, I think they only let people in to the upper level on that side anyway. Again, poor organisation.

After a short wait, we got the lift to the upper level, then had to schlep all the way across to the other side of the theatre again for our seats. It transpires that Row O of the Limetree has a ledge in front of it - not a railing, like the Concert Hall - and my mother developed the impression that her view was being blocked. Not really - just of the orchestra pit, and if you leaned forward you could see them too. But anyway, legroom was decent, and being at the end of the row, she had a large area beside her for dumping bags, coats and walking-stick umbrellas.

When we arrived, a tv onstage was playing ads from the 80s. They quieted down for the safety announcement, then started up again, and I did begin to wonder how long they'd continue for! The stage itself had a boxing ring in the middle, a pool table to one side, portaloos to the other. Plastic chairs were dotted about. The set actually changed very little during the entire show, except that the ropes around the boxing ring were dismantled when the action moved to outside the Duke's court.

The cleverest part of the staging was a large black box, sitting in the ring at the beginning, on which the numbers 1-10 were displayed. These represented boxing match rounds, and counted down for the duration. And just to mark the transitions, swimsuit-clad girls came on at the appropriate times, brandishing large cards above their heads that displayed the round number. As for the black box, it also acted as a projector screen, was lifted out of the way when the raised area (which was sometimes a boxing ring) was being used, and became transparent for a cleverly staged representation of Rigoletto and Gilda (outside the box) watching the Duke carrying on with Maddalena (inside the box).

The other striking feature of this production was - bunny rabbits. Yes, someone involved in the design of this show has a thing for bunnies. Yellow ones. They were everywhere. When people were performing sex acts, they often wore bunny heads. When henchmen were going around in disguise, they wore full bunny suits. When Gilda was shown at home, safe in her room, not only were stuffed bunnies scattered about (and used as a bed), but she was wearing a bunny t-shirt and bunny-ear slippers. If there was a deeper meaning to the bunnies, I think it was somewhat lost in the sniggers of the audience. But whatever.

The performance was in English, with no surtitles, so it was tricky to figure out what was being sung, and we relied heavily on the plot synopsis in the programme. But the music was original, and the singing was glorious. The general consensus was that the darker second half worked better. Kudos to the guy that played both his own role, Marullo, and that of Monterone, when the other singer was taken ill, and whatever people's reaction to the staging, kudos also to Opera Ireland for staging something a bit different. This was the first opera ever staged at the Limetree, and although the Concert Hall has a few every year, they're always Ellen Kent, you always know what to expect, there are always small children and ethnic dancers thrown in for variety. This was something new, and the standing ovation was well deserved. Mind you, it was a relief to stand, after this long show, in a theatre that had no aircon, and was far too hot.

I had to be up early today to take my mother to Mass, seeing as how we were otherwise occupied yesterday evening, so after I'd put in her Tesco order online, and checked her lottery ticket, there was no time to blog. Today, after Mass, we headed to the Peppermill for lunch. We arrived quite early, and parked close to the door - which was a good thing, with the strong breeze that had replaced the rain for now. I had the same as before - white wine and BBQ-marinated chicken - she had pink lemonade and salmon (again), which this time came with a salmon and cod fishcake. And the whole was delicious, after which we just had to have one of their phenomenal range of desserts. She had the raspberry roulade again, and enthused about it. For me, there were no fewer than two different chocolate cakes - I chose the (darker) Death by Chocolate, which is chocolate fudge, rather than the chocolate truffle. I can't recommend the place highly enough - a great range of food, all delicious, fabulous value, and friendly service.

And after we got home, I had errands to run and soaps to catch up on, so no time to blog till I got back to the flat this evening. Tomorrow, I found yet another new Meetup group running something interesting - so I joined and I'm going. The Open Rights Group (ORG) is running a  trip to a talk by, and about, whistleblowers. I don't know whether I'll make it all the way across town in time for 6.15, when they're gathering, but we'll see.

The Callino Quartet & Soprano Ailish Tynan

Since I was in town for the opera on Wednesday anyway, and for the rest of the week, I checked to see whether anything else was on. Fortuitously, I came upon a concert last night by the Callino Quartet, with soprano Ailish Tynan - the first time I've come across something suitable at the Limetree! So I booked us two seats in Row O - the one with an aisle running in front. The tickets were conveniently printable at home.

Cue much frantic searching for the best route there, since I'd never been! I knew it was on the campus of Mary Immaculate teacher training college - "Mary I", as it's known - but I never had cause to go there either. Google Maps was happy to provide me a route - but when I checked it on Streetview, I discovered it took me around the back, and depended on gates being unlocked! The best directions finally came from the theatre website - and told me how to get to the main entrance. I've complained to Google Maps - they have a handy complaints feature on their directions now, where you can complain about specific steps they suggest, and you can state why they're a problem.

Then I checked around the area, and it seemed there wasn't anywhere suitable nearby to eat. So we decided to eat in the Abbey Tavern, as usual. There had been a big funeral there today, but they'd all cleared out by the time we got there, and we had a lovely meal. We were in plenty of time, so ordered dessert - and my mother was intrigued by the option of bread and butter pudding, which she hasn't had in an age. It was a hit! and I do believe she'll be having more in future..

Now, I've never had to go from Quin to Limerick before, so we asked our server for advice. The useful maps app on my phone - accessible because of the good WiFi in the bar - showed me we weren't far from the motorway, and she was able to tell us which direction to head in to get there. I scoured my phone for info on where the motorway would take us in the city - I hadn't planned to be coming from that direction. I plotted a course to link up with the directions I'd decided on last night, and we were off!

It was a lovely, sunny evening for a drive. The road from Quin to the motorway was narrow and winding, and my mother was greatly impressed by the size of the houses along the way! Affluent residents, here. We then barrelled along the motorway for a while, until it petered out into a dual carriageway. I carefully watched for my turn-off (the R445), and started to get worried when the signs for the toll plaza appeared - but no, I had determined to turn off at the last possible place before it, luckily! and after some considerable time snaking our way along that road, we found ourselves in the city centre.

Now I was glad of my knowledge of the city - it's tricky driving around unfamiliar urban areas. So I knew what street I was on at any given time, I knew where I was headed, and I kinda knew which lane I was supposed to be in. I'd decided to approach the college via the Dock Road - it'd be a left-turn from there. All I had to do was take the correct left turn - and this is where Google Maps turned up trumps! Yes, I knew the road name - but I couldn't see that before I made my turn. Instead, I was looking for Irish Wire Products on the right, followed by a petrol station on the left, and the turn would be just after that.

And so it proved. And in no time at all, we were turning in the main entrance to the campus. My mother - who'd never been there before either - expressed surprise that it was so big! She'd expected something like one building. Anyway, the website instructions had been marvellously specific - follow the road as it veers to the right, and the theatre is in the modern building ahead. Parking is to the left - the first car park is paid, the others are free.

So it was something of a disappointment to find that all the car parks had barriers, and a sign saying that there was an exit tariff of €3. Well anyway, I entered the second car park and parked as close as possible to what seemed to be the building entrance. My mother wasn't up to traipsing around without a guarantee of somewhere to sit, and it was too early for the house to be open, so I set off on my own reconnaissance mission. When I entered the building, the first sight to greet me was a daunting flight of steps! Huge, they were. It soon became apparent that the actual steps were to the sides, and the giant steps in the middle were actually benches. Still, I knew my mother wouldn't like it - or the fact that, at the top (where the the theatre is), you have to climb another level for Row O and back. Still, there was a lift - and when I returned to the theatre bottom level, I saw another door, at that level and round the back of the building. And yes, we could use it!

Seating was another matter. Apart from the extravagant seating feature that looked like steps, there was virtually no seating to be had. There was a bar - but I could only see a solitary seat, beside a table across from the bar, where they had milk and sugar to go with your tea or coffee, if you had one. So I scarpered to get my mother and secure the seat before anyone else did. Which we did. I sat her in it, popped to the bar for what turned out to be a very nice glass of white wine, and stood beside her for the long wait for the house to open. During which time the guy brandishing the free programmes gave us a couple. And we agreed that it's very poor, not having any seating in the lobby of a theatre venue. So many of the patrons were elderly, and frankly, the bar would do better business if its customers could sit down.

We were right around the other side from where we were supposed to go in, but as it happened, the crowd was so small that they only opened the door beside where we were. When she took our tickets, the lady warned us that we'd have quite a climb from there - but there was a very small crowd, and we could sit further down. So we, and several others who'd booked seats at the back, waited until the others had gone in, and were then taken in, in order of arrival, to choose our own. We ended up third row from the stage, on the aisle - just as well, because my mother found the legroom quite snug,

Seats were comfy enough otherwise, and it's a nice little theatre. The programme was as follows:

Haydn: String Quartet in C Op. 54 No. 2
Schoenberg: String Quartet No. 2 Op. 10
Interval
Brahms: String Quartet in C Minor Op. 51 No. 1
Mozart: Exsultate, Jubilate

So, to begin, we were treated to a charming piece by Haydn. It was great, as I remarked to my mother, to be seated so close. I remember a classical concert I attended once, where a young couple was seated beside me. At the interval, he went out, and she turned to me and gushed about how wonderful it was, how she'd never been to a classical concert before, how she hadn't realised they put so much effort in! That occurred to me last night, as I watched them pour themselves into the music. It was a delight.

At the end of the piece, they went off for a little break, and the soprano came on to have a word with us. She hoped we'd enjoyed the last piece, because, as she said, that's all of that we'd have until the next half! She explained the background to the next piece - how the composer's wife ran off with their friend, then returned to her husband and her lover committed suicide. How all this happened around the time of the composition of the piece, and all that pain and grief and passion comes out in the music. How they had a ball rehearsing it, but it's atonal and not to everyone's taste- but she hoped we'd give it a chance.

Sure enough, atonal and passionate it was. Interesting, though. And the soprano came on in the third movement - we had the lyrics in our programmes, both in English and German, to follow along. And I literally jumped when she started. She blew the roof off. It's a long time since I heard a female singer of that calibre, and the last time I heard anything like this, I wasn't nearly as close. You've heard of voices that can shatter glass? This was one. She has a huge voice, and we sat and gawped. Wow. She was in a different league to the singer on Wednesday night - and that performance was packed, while this had a few handfuls of people. My mother remarked afterwards that she supposed it had suffered from being the night after the opera, in the same city.

Same format for the second half - one piece with just the quartet, one with the soprano. Oh, she was a joy to listen to, and we were delighted to give them all a standing ovation at the end. Watch out for that one.. As we left the car park, we discovered that the barrier had been raised. So it was free after all! Unfortunately, my mother - who's always forgetting it anyway - had left her cushion behind. So she's decided it's not worth a special trip back to Limerick, and I have to search Amazon for another. Hey-ho.. Anyway, we were late going to bed, and I was too tired to blog last night.

So, I'm back to London on Sunday. On Monday I'm off to After Electra, in the Tricycle. On Tuesday, I'm going to a talk on Palestinian cinema, hosted by the Film Nite Meetup group. I'm passing on the £35 wine and canape reception afterwards though. I don't think I'm the only one - yesterday, we all got an email from the organiser, saying that we might find it expensive, but it is happening in Soho House, which is a private members' club. Mmm, yes, fine. I still don't think it's worth it. And he pointed out how if you pay £100 for the term, you get the receptions for free! Great - I'm still not buying. Anyway, on Wednesday, I'm joining the Central London Outdoor Group for a walk around the City, to see where they used to have horses, back in the day..