On Tuesday, I was back with North London Friends - to the Theatre Royal, Stratford East for Our Country's Good. It really was touch and go whether I could manage it, with my continuing breathlessness, but I said I'd risk it, and off I went. I worked from home that day and the next, so it was from there that I ventured forth - the bus all the way would have taken me too long, so I had to get the Tube from St. Paul's: normally walking distance, on this occasion I decided it'd be safer to take a bus.
Blasted, overcrowded Tube - I had to let three crammed ones pass before one finally came along that there was room for me on! Well, I made it to Stratford - and was very impressed that I managed the five-minute walk to the theatre; seriously, I was that bad. Also impressed that I managed to find the shortcut through the shopping centre! Really, it's worth trying - follow the signs for "town" and the shopping centre is dead ahead, just dive straight in; when it comes to the junction of the different corridors, a huge sign hanging from the ceiling points you to the theatre, with ads for what's on. Excellent idea.
I was wheezing and panting by the time I got to the box office, but that's allowed.. then headed for the bar, where I saw the others at a table, and gratefully took a seat. We were four, in all, which is just a nice number - and after we'd sat and chatted briefly, it was time to go in. Two of us were sat in the rear stalls, two further forward (later complaining of a draught):
The two of us sat in the rear were either side of that pillar you can just about see! Kind of like being in the bowels of a ship, with people creaking about in the Circle, overhead. Nobody deigned to sit right behind it, which left us with a convenient space to stretch out into, and leave stuff if we had a mind.
Now, I'm sure I've seen this before somewhere - it's the story of convicts transported to Australia in the late 18th or early 19th century, one of whose guards attempts to inject some culture into their lives by getting them to rehearse and stage a play. I certainly haven't seen a production like this before, though - the theatre company is Ramps on the Moon, which apparently uses actors of differing physical abilities - in other words, in this production, some are deaf, a couple apparently mute.
Naturally, this requires some adjustments, and a couple of screens either side of the stage broadcast subtitles throughout - which proves handy on occasion, because a couple of the actors are quite difficult to understand when speaking. As someone remarked at the interval, given that sub (sur-?) titles are also broadcast to the back of the stage, it becomes a bit like information overload! You should also see some of the pretentious claptrap when they have to describe the music - "mysterious immersive texture", anyone?
Signing is also constant throughout - and kudos to the actors who carry it all off, one in particular signing what she was saying as she was saying it, then switching immediately to sign whatever the person beside her was saying. It's a good play, and a good production, if patchy - there's too much going on for a start, and not all the performances are ones I'd pay to see. I did enjoy watching some of the actors - Tom Dawze as Wisehammer was enjoyable: I thought that Fifi Garfield, as Dabby Bryant, had great stage presence: Gbemisola Ikumelo is really strong as Liz Morden: Sapphire Joy is indeed a joy as Mary Brenham, and I liked Tim Pritchett as Lieutenant Clarke. However, with everything that is crammed into most scenes, some did feel a bit laboured.
Never mind, it was enjoyable, and great just to get out! Run ends tomorrow, if you're interested. I didn't bother going to the Q+A afterwards though, and was again impressed with myself with making the walk back to the station, at normal speed. I didn't risk the stairs up to the Tube though, taking the escalator. But I was well impressed that I managed - with a few pauses for breath - to walk all the way home from St. Paul's!
On Wednesday, Up in the Cheap Seats was off to The Writer, at the Almeida. Now, under normal circumstances, I could have walked to this from home - but given that it's all uphill, and given that these were not normal circumstances, I decided to take the bus. Either would do me from my local stop - and was I ever vexed to see one depart just as I arrived! I was then delighted to see another right behind it.. only to be even more vexed when I discovered I'd forgotten my Oyster card. Damnit, back upstairs to my flat, collect my card, back down to the stop - and now it was about a 10-minute wait, and the bus that came wouldn't take me as close as the others would have. I barely managed the walk at the other end - it was short, but uphill, and I was vindicated in not having walked all the way, because I'd never have managed it.
I eventually wheezed my way into the theatre, and collected my ticket at the box office again - when we'd ascertained that the address I'd provided was my Irish one! I guess this was when I'd maxed out my account, so I booked on my Irish credit card. The lobby was as crowded as ever, and with a big group this evening, it was hard to connect properly with many of them - I didn't dawdle when the bell went for us to go in. I'd managed one of the cheap, limited availability £10 tickets, whee.. which got me into the last row of the stalls (thank goodness, there's a huge staircase up to the gallery!):
Now, this play is a curious beast. Two hours long without interval, it starts with a really strong scene between a theatre director (middle-aged, male) and an audience member who's had to come back for something she left behind (she's young, female). The chat starts with him asking her how she liked the play - but turns into something very different.
Time Out describes this as - if I can remember semi-correctly - a study of the destruction of art by paternalistic capitalism. So, we have the female artist on one side, the male with the power on the other, blocking her artistic progress (sometimes quite unwittingly). A series of vignettes play this out, generally very entertainingly - there's a great sense of humour here! Mind you, I wasn't the only one who thought they lost the plot in the second-last scene, where she finds herself communing with female spirits in the jungle. Hey, maybe I just missed the paternalistic capitalism! A couple of people left during this bit. The last scene, then, involves two women - but it seems that the same power struggle plays itself out again..
Afterwards, a couple of people thought it was pretentious, the artist putting herself above the to-and-fro of daily life, her art always more important. Others of us thought she got away with that. And the general mood in the cafe afterwards, as we engaged in a most convivial chat, was that we enjoyed it, on the whole - but it was a good job that our organiser spotted that pile of Time Out magazines to the side, and looked up their review. So we knew what it was about! :-) Ah hell, I loved it - I do love a challenging piece. Runs till the 26th - most performances sold out by now. And hey, I managed the (downhill) walk home!
Yesterday, London Literary Walks was doing - ahem - Stalin's Doss House. Well, I hummed and I hawed, and I figured I could manage. The film list kept me a bit later than I'd have liked, so most people had arrived at the Hoop & Grapes by the time I got there - mind you, a couple of latecomers just managed to catch us at the door! Including Mary,who apparently had had a falling-out with a bus. Nice pub, mind - an eating area down the back, lots of exposed beams and brickwork. I didn't imbibe - I'd had a glass in the office before leaving, and was now too involved in catching my breath.
More photos here. We spent much of our time in the pub looking at photos that our leader was distributing, of revolutionary leaders such as Lenin, Stalin, and Trotsky, all of whom fetched up here - it's always been a welcoming city. We generally agreed that Stalin was a bit dishy, and would have fitted right in with today's hipsters.
But our guide was to lead us on one of his most fascinating walks yet, starting with a very dubious-looking alleyway that led to the Freedom magazine offices, and a wall full of anarchist types!
We set off through the backstreets of Aldgate, narrowly avoiding a large Jack the Ripper tour, and found the largest mosque in London - with a gym next door, that apparently has Islamic prayer pumped through at service times! The area used to be Jewish, apparently, but when the Muslims moved in, the two faiths lived side-by-side in harmony. And the anarchists found a home in the midst of all this - we did indeed see the famous doss house!
We had a mid-walk stop at The Good Samaritan, which was busy enough that getting service - and a seat - was a bit tricky, but we found a table and were well happy. And had a great old chat before we set out again - to see the childhood home of the founder of Tesco! By 'neck, the walk that had everything. As we were hearing about that, a couple who lived nearby wandered over in curiosity - and were able to tell us that the house across the road (that was a house?!) was designed by someone who went on to be quite a famous architect. Well, I never.
Fascinating to head around a part of town we hardly ever see - with lots more Georgian terraces than I'd expected, gee, it reminded me of Irish cities - and what a fantastic evening we had with this group, definitely one of the best out there. Really looking forward to the next meeting.
Now, we're into the Early May Bank Holiday (whee!) - and I saw an interesting trip, advertised by Carpe Diem, for a long weekend in Bulgaria. So I applied for a place - only to be told that there'd only been six, which were now gone. When I pointed out that the Meetup page advertised 12 places, and that some were shown as still available, they removed the event entirely. Instead, right now I'm headed - with the £3.60 club - to Music Hall Monster: The Insatiable Mr. Fred Barnes, at Wilton's. Could be good.
And tomorrow, I signed up to an overnight trip to Newquay in Cornwall with Eddie's Excursions. This time, I got in the first six - ironically, they didn't guaranteeing it'd go ahead unless they could fill a minibus! Sure enough, it was cancelled on Tuesday. Instead, I'm off with Funzing (through Funzing UK) - to a show called World Without Us, at Battersea Arts Centre. Gee, they're selling tickets for regular shows now! Way cheaper than the regular price, I must point out.. and that was before I applied the personal discount I got, for not having booked anything for a while.. even though I was outside the deadline for using it! :-)
No comments:
Post a Comment