Two Roses for Richard III

Off to Stratford, and the Courtyard Theatre!

The RSC hosted a Brazilian company's work, Two Roses for Richard III, for a five day run.  It was different, and good... I think.  The play started with a nude fest (partial female nudity, full male), but did not have contexts of sexuality, and as I guessed correctly.  During the talkback we attended the following day, one audience member challenged the director on it.  She was an old British lady.  Not to stereotype, BUT...

The set reminded me of running water, and as I found out later, it was designed to show how there is no end, the "stage" just keeps going on and on.

As the director said at Unwrapped (the talkback), he is trying, with his co-director, to create a new language of theatre based in theatre and circus and acrobatics.  This company used the space, used all of it, height and width and breath.  Assassins dropped from the ceiling, people were raised up, and many interesting visuals ensued.  I can't really describe them to do them justice.

It worked in creating a new language, but I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what that language was.  Since I'm not familiar with the circus, I think I missed some ideas and allusions.  Images merged and changed and struck me and then confused me...  I enjoyed it, both intellectually and emotionally.  The biggest problem I had was that the entire production had surtitles, which meant over half the time I was reading the lines on the screen.  This half of the time I was not having as much fun, I was just trying to keep up with the speakers, didn't see any of their expressions, and missed some of the acrobatics.  I should have just let the surtitles be, but I couldn't help myself.

I'd love to see more productions by this company.  It was a palate-cleanser, showing the borders of what one can do just using Shakespeare's text... and a little of their own.  This production looked at acting, had actors speak about their characters in jarringly metatheatrical moments, which peppered the production... drawing us in... shoving us out... drawing us in once again into the world of the play...

I'd recommend it, as long as you can find reasonably priced tickets.  Any seat is good.

Days 30th, 31st, and 32nd

May 13th:

Travel day!  Really and truly.  Me and mum got on the train back to London... arrived at the Lime Tree Hotel... and crashed.  Slept.  Zzz... the entire day.  Except for one mission to acquire food.

May 14th:

Mum and I started out the day heading to St. Paul's, only to discover that it was closed for the day for some kind of event.  Disappointed, we wandered the streets for a little bit before we decided to just trolley over to the British Library, and boy was that a good decision!  The BL was incredible, really demonstrated what book and history dorks me and mum truly are.  Some of the things that we went nuts about:  Massenger prompt book, a First Folio, the original music sheets from Mozart and Handel, Beethoven's tuning fork, the Magna Carta, Davinci's sketches, one of three surviving Tyndale translations of the New Testament, the Codex Sinaiticus (aka, the Gospels version 1.0), and the St. Cuthbert Gospel (oldest European book that is still intact).  OMG SQUEE!  That was just the gallery.  The exhibition included a painting of Hobbitton-across-the-water by Tolkein, Stow's Survey of London, and original drafts from Rowling...

After that, we went to St. Martin's Cafe in the Crypt, ate a tasty spicy meal (which I got to co-opt), then checked out St. Martin's briefly before walking across the street to the National Portrait Gallery.  The Gallery is more interesting than I thought it would be.  It had a lot of images I know from textbooks... like portraits of Elizabeth, Cecil, Wolsey, Drake, Raleigh, Leicester, Dudley, Cranmer, Cromwell, Mary I, Phillip II, Richard III, Henry VIII... My previously-blown mind was turned into goo.

After all that excitement, me and mum went and got more tasty goodies from the pink shop before we crashed.

May 15th:

Mum and I's last day here.  First stop:  St. Paul's.  They let us in this time.  No pictures allowed, of course, but I was too awed to be angry for any period of time.  Even though it's not an ancient cathedral, it is still a beautiful, beautiful building.  I have the need for there to be cathedrals in the states, cathedrals like I've seen in the last month.  I've fallen in love with cathedrals.  St. Paul's threw me a bone, too... it let me climb.  Some 200 steps up are the Whispering Galleries, where you can look down into the interior of St. Paul's and peer at the little people praying.  Next, where I boldly ventured by myself, was another 200 steps of narrow, winding stairs.  At this stop was the Stone Gallery, where you can look from the edge of the dome over London.  And then after another roughly 150 stairs, very tight, lots of heights, you get to the Golden Gallery, an amazing view of London.  I was giddy.  And I took pictures.  Lots of them.  I deserved it after all that climbing :-P.  I love heights.  Going down was... interesting.  I wish the individual stairs were larger.  I trust me not to fall... but I don't trust other people, say, behind me, especially if they are larger than me.

I thought I misplaced my mother for about ten minutes, but I found her.  After St. Paul's, we went looking for souvenirs, got our luggage from the Lime Tree, and I saw Mum off on the Piccadilly Line, took the line myself to the YHA, checked in, then rushed off to the Globe where I watched 1 Henry IV (review upcoming) and the first half of 2 Henry IV.  Came back to the YHA, and now I'm spending my last bit of time here in London.

Macbeth

Well, maybe this play is cursed.  But only in Polish.

Having seen a variety of Globe to Globe productions, I was fairly confident that taking my mother to a show would be a good experience for us.  The Globe had warned me in a letter that this show contained nudity, violence, and a rape scene.  It gave me the impression of a dark, violent Macbeth, a gritty reality.

This was not reality.  Or if it was, it was a sad director trying to recreate the awesome party he had last month with a half-dozen transvestites.

The problem with this was that the audience was not completely wasted, stoned, or high.  If they had been, they might have enjoyed it.  For me, it was a bad mushroom trip.  A nightmare where the text of Macbeth is violated.  It was a rape scene... they raped Shakespeare's text.

I suppose it needs a little more description.  To say something was unrelentingly awful should require more justification than just my word.

The witches were transvestites, the only slightly clever moment (they are women, but for their beards...).  However, they were present in almost every scene, dancing, staggering drunkenly, flashing the audience, etc.  Lady Macbeth was absolutely batshit from the outset.  I could never tell what any of the actors wanted... their objectives and tactics were completely obscure.  I couldn't see Macbeth's internal struggle.  Malcomb was a violent ass.  And the party scenes went on... and on... Did the director think the overweight men running around in their underwear, resulting in fat bouncing buttocks, was remotely entertaining or contributed to the story of Macbeth?

Me and Mum left at intermission, and I only got that far because I needed a stamp for a free tour.  My soul was bleeding.

The Duchess of Malfi

Mum and I had to see something at the Old Vic, and I've wanted to see the Duchess of Malfi, so we went on Lastminute.com and grabbed some tickets in the morning for an evening show.  The theatre is lovely... I'm not used to being in a proscenium space.  There was a little mixup with the tickets... we were given tickets for seats that other folks had, so we were moved closer to the stage.  We were three rows back, center.  I don't think tickets get better than that.  We paid around 20 pounds for 50 pound tickets.  :-)

I would love to point out specific parts of this show that were especially lovely, but the work of everyone melded in such a beautiful way that it will be hard for me to praise particular aspects.  The set design and lighting design worked together.... it was amazing.  The atmosphere changed from cathedral to prison to grand hall and back again through the lighting, showing off different aspects of the set design.  Truly remarkable.

The cast was excellent.  Eve Best as the Duchess had top billing, even above John Webster (the author).  The story was clear, the actors creative and compelling, the music appropriate, and the choreography a perfect finish for this triple-layer cake of tragic decadence.  Like any baking project, this one had all the right ingredients in the right time.

Mum loved it just as much as I did.

Days 28th and 29th

May 11th:

Our first full day in Stratford!  We started out by going to Shakespeare's childhood home, which sadly was already crowded with students.  The format of the tour moved me away from their copy of a First Folio faster than I would have liked.  A First Folio... one of the most valuable books in the world.  The birthplace itself was not particularly remarkable.  It was an old building, but it had gone through so many different owners I didn't know what was from the period and what was repaired or a recreation.  The floor in the parlour was the genuine part of the house I knew of.  So I started my day by walking in Shakespeare's footsteps.  Next we went to Nash's House and the excavation of New Place, which really wasn't that interesting, really.  I don't care about his descendants that much.  No connection to them.

Then we toodled past Shakespeare's school, which is still a school, so no tour there.  We stopped at the chapel next to the school, that was cool.  I really like churches and cathedrals now, apparently.  Then we walked to Hall's Croft, where I looked at the house and the things they had and it was mildly interesting.  Last, but not least, we went to Holy Trinity where Shakespeare is buried.  I sat in front of his grave almost an hour, thinking deep thoughts and whatnot.  I felt like that was the end of my pilgrimage... I am ready to go home.  I have paid homage to the author who I studied, seen his town, seen his houses, seen the streets where he walked and now have visited his grave, the most concrete thing we have of him, except for the legacy of his work and our language.

We finished up the day by watching a production of Two Roses for Richard III, in Brazilian... review upcoming (I'll get to my reviews).

May 12th

Me and mum went to Unwrapped, an hour's discussion with the directors of Two Roses, then killed some time before the 1:30 showing of King John (review upcoming LOL).  After the show, we got hungry and bickered, fed us, then I slept.

Days 25th, 26th, & 27th

May 8th:

Bright and early, before it opened, me and Mum went to Westminster Abbey.  Glad we did, too... although we had to wait a few min to get in the door, it got quite crowded quite quickly.  The cathedral was gorgeous, and the pure amount of history there almost made me cry.  I was speechless at Elizabeth I's tomb.  We wandered in awe, especially at Poet's Corner.  The Abbey had moments of silence every hour, as well.  When we were done, we went to the London Eye.  (Congrats to mum!)  It gave us a nice view of London, and it hit home how completely different London is to any American city.  It's short.  It's green.  It stretches as far as the eye can see.  US cities are tall and grey and devolve into suburbia.

I drove mum hard after that.  We tried to go to the Borough Market, but it was closed, so we ate at Nando's instead.  Nando's was out of hummus, which made me sad.  Then we went to the Globe to see a Polish production of Macbeth.  Review upcoming... but we did leave at intermission, if that gives you any clue to what I think of it.  Then we simply went back to the B&B and chilled there.

May 9th:

First thing in the morning, we went to the Tower of London.  I didn't expect it to be so much like a castle, even though I was aware it was one.  All the pictures I had seen were simply of the keep... and for some reason, that's all I thought was there.  I was pleasantly surprised to find more towers and ramparts for me to scramble around on.  Because the audio tour cost three pounds, mum and I shared one, turning the volume way up and putting our heads together to hear it.  We must have looked pretty funny.  The crown jewels were very shiny, but some of them were absent, their places marked "in use", as it was the opening of Parliament.  I'm not sure if I missed seeing them, or was excited to know that something was happening with them.  Mixed feelings.

The Tower gave us six hours of entertainment, just looking around and listening to the tour.  We didn't even go on a Beefeater tour, mostly because the place got crowded so quickly, and we were happy on our own.  We perused every gift shop, had fish and chips at the cafe (om nom nom), and went into every castle crevice that was open to the public.  I loved it.

Possibly the highlight of our trip was at noon, when a three-gun (artillary) salute rotated for a salute of 41 shots for the opening of Parliament.  I went running toward the loud noise,  Mum stayed put and listened and imagined.  I got to the front of the crowd and grinned like an idiot at the lovely explosions.  Teeheehee.

When we were done with the Tower,  we went back to the B&B, got dinner, but on our way back we got a cupcake from the cutest shop I have ever seen.  Painted pink, it looked good enough to eat.  Adorable!  I have pictures.

May 10th:

We packed up and left our things with the manager of the bed and breakfast while we went to the Cutty Sark at Maritime Greenwich.  :-D  It was impressive.  I wish Dad or Ben had seen it, they both would have loved it.  Me and mum spent about an hour and a half there before we picked up our luggage and went to the train station.  We had about an hour and a half to wait, and during that time, we watched what we think was a movie being filmed.  I don't know if we got in the way... I hope they would have asked us to move if we were sitting in the wrong spot.  Whatever the case, we got on the train when it arrived, and then mum discovered that she had either lost her credit card or had it lifted between getting coffee at the station and getting on the train.  There was the appropriate amount of panic and dismay, and when we got to the B&B in Stratford-upon-Avon, mum got the number for the credit card company and reported it lost/stolen.  To finish up the day, we took a stroll to SuA's oldest inn, The Garrick, and had delicious fish and chips.  Award-winning.  Om nom nom.

Days 22nd, 23rd, & 24th

May 5^th:

Uneventful day. I stayed in the hostel, went to see Othello, and then came home and stayed in the hostel. I was recharging after my Dover trip.

May 6th:

I went to pick up Mum from the Piccadilly Circus station.  The entire underground was horribly busy that day, for the entire Bank Holiday, because of closures on several important lines.  I understand the need for the work... I just feel bad for all the employees when the Olympics hit.

Mum was in a state of sleep-deprived, caffeinated excitement.  We dropped our luggage at the Morgan Guest House... in room 8.  It's on the top floor (not counting the loft).  It's also three stories up.  Which means lots of narrow stairs.  Getting our exercise!  The bed is also slightly sloping, as in, I have to move to the centre of the bed to stop from rolling off of it.  The bathroom pipes make exceedingly strange, whirring, groaning noises when any water from the tap is used.  Source?  Unexplained.  Unhappy dead tenants?

They have a lovely breakfast here, with something that's like oatmeal meeting cereal in the worst possible way.  Mother tells me this is known as muesli.  More appetizing elements of breakfast include scrambled eggs, baked beans (since when is that a breakfast food?) and grilled tomatoes.  Toast and jam are also available.  Om nom nom.

Anyways, after me and mom dropped our stuff off here, we went to the British Museum, because I figured that would be the best way to keep Mum awake.  It was nice.  They had the Rosetta Stone and the Elgin Marbles.  They didn't look like marbles to me... But other than that, it was a lot of old things... and one old thing, without any context, followed by another old thing... it gets boring, and I love history.  It was a very impressive collection of old things, but not my period.  The Romans.  The Greeks.  The Assyrians.  The Egyptians.  Other cultures that ethnocentric white people have just started to discover.  Mum liked the coffee.  And, of course, she geeked at all the history.  Humph.  History majors.

I also convinced mum that prepacked food does not contain small germy devils waiting to attack.  :-P

May 7th

Mum was conscious though vaguely out of sync with the day.  We started the day by going to Trafalger Square and swooping through the National Gallery in search of DaVinci.  We found his painting... Virgin of the Rocks.  Then we went to Piccadilly Circus, went, "hey, that's Piccadilly Circus", then went to Leicester Square, went "hey, that's Leicester Square" and discover that heaven has a retail chain.  This is known as the M&M store. Never has no much happiness and colour invaded a single building.  Well, maybe, but I haven't been to Disneyworld.  Me and mum got ourselves plenty of delicious candy and felt very giggly.  Drugs?  Possible.

Then we went to Covent Garden, and wandered around there.  Mum got very emotional because God conspired to have an instrumental group play one of her most favourite songs.  It was sweet.  She was happy.  We got their CD and then we left.  Covent is nice, but I lust for more bargains.  Next, we trotted over to the Museum of London, because we still had daylight hours and we might get bored.  She enjoyed it.  I enjoyed, even though it was round two.  Finally, we went to the Old Vic for their production of The Duchess of Malfi... review upcoming.

Othello

Is it wrong that I gained more intellectual benefits from the play than emotional release? This version of Othello, from the O Brothers company in Chicago, turned Othello into a hip-hop extravaganza. The curtains of the Globe were replaced by theirs, copies with plenty of graffiti on them. The DJ perched in the balcony, playing and changing the beats as the scene demanded. The cast was made up of four others, just one of whom was black. He played Othello. The tiny, all-male cast used cross-gender casting for Emilia and Bianca, but Desdemona never appears onstage. Neither does she have any lines. She merely sings, angelically, at moments where a response is necessary.

The tiny cast used no set pieces other than one graffiti-ed box on wheels, and no props other than their costume pieces. They only paused from rapping twice, during the entire show... once for Desdemona's death, and the other for Othello's. Other than that, the cast of four kept a constant lyrical stream going.

They adapted the scene from Venice to the American music scene, where Othello has risen to the top. At the outset of his new tour, Iago is snubbed in favor of Cassio, and thus begins the plot as we know it. The handkerchief is replaced with a gold chain, Cassio gets a drug slipped into his drink instead of simply drinking too much, and swords are replaced by mimed knives. Roderigo is a complete nerd, one to make all nerds wince at the extreme stereotyping.

I didn't expect to be sad at Desdemona's death, even up to the very event, but then the change in beat, the performance of the actors, and the silence after had a more profound effect than I expected. Emilia's death became almost comic in comparison.

I liked it, and admire the adaptor's skill in turning this text into a modern hip-hop version. He (or she) stayed faithful to the text, adding allusions to direct lines here and there, enough for the Shakespeare geeks to giggle at. I had the feeling the actors were connected not only to the hip-hop script, but the original as well, and displayed faithful care to the characters, even though the women were stereotyped and played for laughs. Men dressed as women tend to elicit that reaction. Moreover, I was impressed by the actors' ability to keep to the beat, with only two or three slipups over the entire hour and a half (plus intermission). That must have taken real stamina.

The audience loved it, and roared for them to come back for two extra curtain calls. I heard people on my way out saying that it was “awesome” and “better than Mozart”. No, seriously. I heard that. It was good, in my opinion... but not great.

Titus Andronicus

This Titus was in Cantonese, from a Hong Kong theatre company.   I liked it, more than the Julius Caesar, but not as much as the other Shakespeare I've seen at the Globe, and I think I figured out why.  Titus was staged in a very classy manner, minimalist staging, and clear acting.  However...

1)  I liked the individuality of the other plays.  No other play is going to be like it.  This staging could have been found at any American theatre.

2)  Music, movement, and dance were a vital part of the other plays, and in this one, movement was only used in the beginning (I think) to clarify relationships between everyone.  Music, in this one, was the occasional flute, drum, or horn.

4) I liked how the other plays were a reflection of the culture from whence it came.  This was, again, could have been found anywhere.  Granted, it goes to show how universal Shakespeare is, but I wished the Hong Kong company had owned it more.

Costumes were grey for the Andronici, black for the Goths, and white for the Roman royalty.  I wasn't quite sure what the point of the color-coding was.  A black man was not cast as Aaron, so instead, Aaron had several black lines on his face and on his forearms, in a design that reminded me of tiger stripes.  It was subtle, but got the point across.  I thought that was interesting... a Caucasian couldn't have gotten away with that, for obvious reasons.  There were some deadly pauses.  I think the script was directly translated, and cut very little, from my memory of it.

Lavinia only had blood around her mouth and red-gloved fists after her horrible experience.  I wanted more blood.  Call me a typical American, but I really wanted more evidence.  The actress, on the other hand, was fantastic.  Instead of just sitting to the side in a mute trauma, Lavinia made herself a part of the action throughout.  She told more with her body than she might have been able to tell in words.  Titus' stabbing is clearly premeditated, as Lucius holds Marcus back.  I've always loved Marcus' character, and this actor did not disappoint.  It was quality work, but only disappointing in the light of the Twelfth Night and Midsummer I'd already seen.

Days 20 & 21: Castles n Plays

May 3^rd

First, I went to the Templar's Church... cause this time, it was open. I took pictures for Ben and wished that he was there, or even that they had a gift shop. It's impossible to find presents for him! It was cool, but I didn't spend much time there. I went to the Bankside Gallery, realized it was tiny... overheard some people complimenting a very abstract painting, which I thought was funny. It was something I could have drawn myself. But since it was so small, I was off again, and spent some time in the Borough Market getting foods before I went to see Titus Andronicus (Review forthcoming). Came back to the hostel and talked to Ben.

May 4^th

May the Forth be with you!

FANTASTIC DAY.

I woke myself up at six, and managed to catch the train just in time. Literally, I hurried to get there, and if I hadn't hustled, even run the last bit, I would have missed it. As soon as I got off, thirty seconds later that train was on its way. And I would have had to wait a while longer to get the next one. So, in time, but hungry... It was about a two hour train ride to Dover. The first time I saw the white cliffs I literally gasped. Beautiful. I grabbed a muffin then headed to the info place, they told me how to get to Samphire Hoe and then to Dover Castle. I had originally planned to hit Canterbury, but when I realized how long I was going to be in Dover, my hope sunk. It took me about an hour to walk to Samphire Hoe, and I only got confused how to get there a few times. I took the main roads and had to do some backtracking. The trail carried me over a few large hills. I had to take off my coat uphill and put it on going downhill. Samphire Hoe is the interior of the Channel tunnel, all the dirt they didn't know where to put. It's right down by the water, and offers some great views of the cliffs. I walked its circumference, sat down, breathed the fresh air... I walked about a mile there. Then, it was time to go, so I grabbed some food from the refreshment stand... a cheese and onion sub. Those are condiments, not sandwich material!

I walked back the correct way, and figured out why I hadn't found it in the first place. It was a tiny dirt trail, little more than a deer path. Walking that over the hills of Dover was really wonderful. And exercise. Ocean and white cliffs and hiking... mmmm. I need to hike more.

I managed to find my way up to the castle... key word... UP. I was definitely feeling it in my legs. My body started to hate me so I fed it a tuna sandwich. The castle itself was fantastic, so much to explore! I liked the recreation of the various rooms, because I was tired of making my imagination do all the work. Dover castle is seriously well-fortified. It made me feel very safe. Peering from the topmost tower, I saw a smudge of another land on the horizon... there was France! So now I can say that I've seen France, too. It also made it very clear why Henry II would build a castle there. The walls are impossibly thick. The only way to win out against that castle would be to starve it out.

There were also some “secret” wartime tunnels that I got a guided tour of. It's where the British military organized the rescue from Dunkirk. The air raid sirens, of course, gave me horrible chills. This castle has been used every century as a key position... I can see why. It's a giant “fuck no” to anyone thinking about invading... especially with the cannons now. Giggle.

I come home, VERY sore. Of course, I grabbed a sub. Why am I so hungry??

Wild Swans

I'd heard very good things about the Young Vic's production of Wild Swans, but I would call it good, not great. The play focuses on a Chinese woman, growing up before the Communist revolution of Mao, supporting the revolution, but then watching the new regime turn against her and her family. It's a bitter portrayal of the way that selfish people use other people's ideals for their own advantage. The cast was wonderful, although the variety of accents threw me off. I think the director gave up on making everyone have the same accent. Some of the women in smaller parts, as well as the children, had decidedly English accents. Some of the other characters had Chinese accents, and the main characters and several others had what was, to my ears, mostly an American accent. I made a note of it, but it didn't take away from the play.

The best part of the play were the set changes. Now, that's not something you hear very often. The play starts with a narrow proscenium, a city street. The floor is packed earth and the background is a woven bamboo screen. Next, the street is taken away, and the packed earth becomes a field, and you can see the dirt is actually several inches deep, at least. Then, the bamboo background is rolled away and the dirt is pushed and swept offstage, revealing a white background and wooden floor, a hospital. This takes all of several minutes.

Next, the stage is swarmed by actors, who, with buckets and sponges, get the entire background wet. After a few seconds, the white background turns into a series of propaganda images. I don't know what they used to make something look white when it was dry and then reveal a picture underneath when wet, but it was a wonderful surprise. The addition of a few haybales turned it into a field, and their replacement with bookcases and a desk turned it into an office. But we're not done yet! Next, the stage flooded. FLOODED. The background images essentially disappeared under a projection of a rice paddy. Then the stage drained, from no apparent source, for the next scene and a different projected image. And then, for the grand finale! The back wall broke into four sections, each turning slightly, to show they have not one, but three faces. Two of the sections moved forward, and two back. Mirrors on the new back wall and sides made the stage seem like a crazy house or maze. Actors swarmed onstage and placed sidewalk tiles to cover the wood floor. Projections on the sides of the triangles of city life, combined with sound effects, made for a very convincing modern replica.

Near the end of the play, I figured out why it was so necessary to have this many changes... the play is doing its best to show the changes happening in China. Watching things change over the 90 minute play was mesmorizing enough I didn't even check my watch, but I was confused when the play ended. I hadn't realized that the events were the climax of the play. Granted, it made sense, as life itself doesn't provide conclusions like a play, and the play gives us the feeling of pending change yet again. I enjoyed it, but I wished it had been longer.

Julius Caesar

Julius Caesar, in Italian.

There's not much to say about this one. I didn't like it. The company was devoted to making the play strange. Julius Caesar himself only made an appearance in the first scene, and after that, disappeared from the play. Calpurnia was given a larger role, but the main characters were obviously Brutus and Cassio. The actors interacted with three doors (that were moved by other characters, trying to hide behind them) and a broken-down chair. Later, two garbage cans were added. I would have been OK with the show if I had a clue what the doors, chair, or garbage can were supposed to signify. However, much of the odd parts of the show had no meaning or relevance to what was going on, or at least, not that I could discern. The actors were passionate, but kept the same note throughout the show.

I was disappointed, especially after being spoiled by the last three shows.

Days 18 & 19: Quiet Days

Day 18:

I can't remember what I did on the 1st.  I think I mostly just stayed at the hostel.  This is what happens when I don't write everything down!  I went to see Julius Casesar at the Globe, then came home.  That day must have looked like this one is going to look...

Day 19:

I did, however, write down what I did on the 2nd.  First I went to the Guildhall Art Gallery, a very nice collection on mostly 19th century oversize prints.  Most of them were fairly large, at least.  Downstairs is the remains of a Roman amphitheatre, which is extremely cool.  I sat down there for a while and mused on the people who had died just meters from where I sat... when I was done with my musings, I went upstairs, at which point the nice curator guided me to the actual Guildhall itself.  It was gorgeous!  A massive hall from the 16th century.  Archbishop Cranmer, among others, was tried and found guilty there.  Very cool.  After that, I went to the Templar's church, but it was closed :-(.  That's where I'll be going after I finish this.

But since the church was closed, I had time to go to Kensington Palace and Gardens.  Quite lovely.  I took pictures of flowers.  By that time, I'd used up my extra time, so I went to go see Wild Swans at the Young Vic.  Review forthcoming.  That was done quickly, so I finished up my day with a tour at the National Theatre :-D.  Oh, every designer I know would LOVE those spaces...  I geeked a little that I was walking where the greats (e.g. Olivier) have walked...

Then a quick Tube ride home to talk to Ben.

A Midsummer Night's Dream

I went to a Korean production of A Midsummer Night's Dream on April 30th.  Of the plays that I have seen so far, this company knew how to adapt to the Globe stage the most effectively.  They provided more information about their adaptation before the show, the text on the screens letting us know that Shakespeare's fairies have been replaced by Dokkebi, mischievous demon-like spirits of Korean folklore.  Titania was now Dot, Puck was now the Duduri (twins), etc.  Bottom was replaced by an old woman, searching for herbs in the forest.  The mechanicals and Theseus' court were not even in the play.

The story changed little, even without those characters.  The biggest change I can think of is the switching of the roles of Titania and Oberon.  In this version, Dot is jealous of the affections her husband is giving young women (in fact, he sings a song about how quickly he falls in love), so she is the one who devises to make a potion with the help of the Duduri.

The Dokkebi had painted faces that worked well with their extravagant expressions.  The movement and dance of the show was well choreographed.  The Duduri had fun messing with the audience.  Between the expressions and movement of the cast, this play was better communicated, I believe, to this audience than other companies had succeeded in doing.  The audience loved it, and the applause just kept going and going at the end...

Days 16 & 17: It Gets Better

So, on a rainy, drizzling Sunday morning, instead of going to church, like I had planned, instead I stayed in and wrote blog posts (I'm still catching up...).  Sunday morning you're supposed to sleep in, right?

My original plan was to see the Victoria and Albert, the Science Museum, and the Natural History Museum.  Well, I got to the Victoria and Albert just fine, and spent about an hour and a half wandering around there.  It's definitely an art museum, in the true meaning of the word.  Only art finds its home there, not purely historical objects.  My favourite part of the whole museum were the two items I found, displayed for the blind.  The item description was in braille as well as visible, and next to each object were the words "please touch".  This made me ridiculously happy inside.   I put my sweaty little fingers all over that piece of 13th century wood.  No, literally.  It was part of a roof.

Afterwards, I decided I really wasn't interested in the science museum after all, and BOTH lines for the natural history museum were forty minutes long.  Inexplicably.  The staff standing in the rain, directing the visitors this way and that, were somewhat bewildered.  I promised to come back another day when they weren't swamped by everyone and their family.

So, I went to Camden Town, so I could walk easily to the Lion and Unicorn.  I love the stuff in the shops there... lovelove... goth dresses and full-length leather coats and the most amazing boots... but all way outside of my budget.  Can we have a Camden Town in the US?  East coast?  Please?  With reasonable prices?  Or is that too much to ask...

The next day, today, Monday April 30th, since I didn't have a show till the evening, I went to Rochester.  Of course, there was some ticket confusion, and I went back from Rochester in a hurry trying to get it all figured out, which I did, successfully, but not until I stressed about it.  On the way, I got to talk to two amusing ladies, who were having fun waving at people at stations and confusing them.  So I'll talk about Rochester, its castle, cathedral, and town.

1) Rochester Castle.  The same as featured in the movie IronClad.  It was GREAT.  I got to climb all the way to the top and peer around.  The amount of history there is fantastic!  I took the audio tour, and that combined with my gawking kept me there for a good two hours.  The keep is small, smaller than it looks on the outside.  I've been in houses that had more square feet.  So I scrambled around on the walls and all over and took plenty of pictures... = happy camper

2) Believe it or not, Rochester Cathedral was maybe even better than the castle.  The wall in the crypt was from the 11th century.  The abbey walls once held a monk who helped promote the English language through his book.  The cathedral was truly beautiful.  The weight of the place... as the audio tour said, people have been worshipping God there for 14 centuries.  Blows.  My.  mind.

3) The town itself is oh-so-cute, perfectly picturesque.  I had a Ploughman's lunch at a tea house, and they gave me SO MUCH cheese.  People really like cheese here.

Time for Ben to be online... and my computer is already overheating.  :-(

As You Like It

I got tickets to see As You Like It at the Lion and Unicorn Theatre.  I had no idea what to expect from the space, and it surprised me in every day.  The theatre was the 2nd floor of a restaurant and bar.  The tiny place made a large room at the top of a narrow staircase, and turned it into a black box.  I heard that the theatre's only been around for about a year, but I think it was a brilliant idea.  Maybe one day I can do something like that... although they had some problems, like where to store everyone before the show.  The seating was poor, since neither the audience nor the stage were angled.  Short people to the front!  Neither was the theatre handicapped accessible, which I think is a definite shortcoming.

The play was a bit darker than I'd considered it before.  The usurping Duke's violence toward Oliver was surprising, and made him a villain from the start.  I wasn't impressed by the performances of the actors playing Oliver and Adam (especially the fake "old" voice Adam used), although Oliver had a fairly good command of the language.  Orlando was more masculine than other Orlandos I'd seen, and his victory in wrestling Charles was quite believable.

I liked Touchstone's command of language, but I didn't like how crude he made his character in the second half of the play.  Jacques was curious and energetic, and while I'm not sure this choice was supported by the text, it was certainly interesting to watch.  I'd want to read more about melancholic behaviour before I disagree with his acting choice, however.  It worked.

I liked that they had the folks in the forest shivering, but they abandoned this behaviour after the first scene.  Consistency!  They also didn't have any cross-gender casting or audience contact.  :-(

For intermission, they sent us out of the theatre.  Me, being the rebel, perched on the steps, but most everyone went all the way downstairs for the full fifteen minutes of the interview.  During this time, the props department littered the stairwell with poetry, which I thought was a nice touch.

I liked this production, mostly.  I didn't knock my socks off, but it was creative for a small space and I liked that the actors were exploring possibilities in the text.

Day 15: Ravens

I don't remember when, but a gentleman warned me not to look a raven in the eye, that it was bad luck.  Although my bad luck started earlier that day, before I tried looking ravens in the eye, I still blame it on that.  I like ravens.  I don't want them to be bad luck.

First stop of the day: Parliament.  I wanted to take the Saturday tour, because it was more extensive than the M-F ones.  I was disappointed... it was cancelled, this Saturday and next, because of construction.  Of course, I found this out at the gate.  So, where to next?  I had so much time on my hands!

I went to the London Film Museum, which was a real treat.  They had Chaplin's cap and cane, Batman's suit from Batman Begins, Dr. Who's telephone booth from the original movies... I was a pretty happy camper.  I took lots of pictures.  And just in time, I left for Buckingham Palace, a 30 minute walk.  During the course of which I tried having a staring contest with a raven.  Of course, everyone else also went to the Palace for the Changing of the Guard.  So many people!  I realized, when I got there, that I wasn't going to have a chance at seeing anything, so I walked to Somerset house (30-40 minutes of walking).

Upon arrival at Somerset, I was told that the tour for the day was cancelled.  Again?  Really?  Thankfully, the House also had an exhibit hall, which I visited.  They were featuring the Sony photography awards.  There was some fantastic stuff in there.  I loved the work of the winner, Mitch Dobrowner.  Make a Google Images search on him, you'll see why I love his work.

Next stop: the Rose exhibition!  Except that... it's cancelled.  Two people out sick.  The Globe folks recommend I make a combo tour later on.  Which I will... but still.  Cancelled?  I stay around the Globe to see my show, Richard III, and have dinner at Nando's.  The review is already posted.  :-)

Then, to finish it off, I try to rush home to Skype Ben on time.  I get to the Tube station and realize that my Oyster card has been lifted from my back pocket.  Very frustrating!  I have to wait in line to get another one, since the machines here don't allow you to use cards that don't have a chip in them, so it has to be swiped.  I rush onto the train, and then at my transfer, it tells me that the direction I want to go in... the platform is flooded.  So I have to go the opposite direction to get the way I want to go.

I'm only 5 minutes late to Skype Ben, but five times frustrated.  Not the best day.

Richard III

Richard III: In Manderin

Ah, live theatre.

Apparently, the National Theatre of China sent their beautiful, ornate costumes in a box... that failed to make it to the Globe on time.  The Artistic Director of the Globe came out to apologize to the audience, and commend those folks at the Globe who managed to costume an entire play in less than 24 hours.  And I think they did a fairly fine job of it.  The costumes were mostly black, but certainly reflected the Chinese nature of the show.

I may be having a memory blank... but I don't think there are three witches in Richard III.  Somehow,  Macbeth's prophesying witches migrated to this other tragedy, again warning the main character of the fates.  Also, the National Theatre's Richard was not deformed in any way.  I'm curious if they removed the lines referring to his deformity intentionally and whether it carries different connotations in Chinese culture.  There was a fantastic moment where I thought they might have the witches deform his body, right after he killed the Princes in the Tower, but after they left, he resumed his healthy state.  I may need to steal this for my own production... the one I have, one day...

The movement was stylized in certain scenes, in the manner of Chinese opera.  It was especially evident in the movement of the mourning Lady Anne.  Her dead husband's body was not present in the scene, and I wished they had added it.  However, Margaret was as strong as ever, and her curses carried more power, as she resembled the witches in both movement and voice.

The murderers were a comic treat.  Carefully choreographed martial arts combined with ridiculous failure made them seem completely ineffectual.  Also, I missed the differentiation where in Shakespeare's R3, one murderer loses heart and tries to save Clarence, but too late.  These two were so bad at killing Clarence it made the scene funny... until the very end.

The audience, once again, loved this play.  They ate it up, and the applause at the end lasted as long as that for Twelfth Night.  I'm glad I got to see this play, even sans the right costume.  One of my favorite parts was the use of the sound system, and the deep gong when the new king was crowned, which resulted in Henry's crowning to have the same ominous air as the crowning of Richard's... promising more bloodshed to come.

Twelfth Night

My first play at the Globe was Twelfth Night, performed by the Company Theatre in Hindi.

I had no idea whether to expect subtitles or another form of translation.  I was hoping, but then no translation appeared, only a short 3-line summary of what was going on in the scene, on a screen the the left and right of the stage.  Nevertheless, I managed to follow what was going on fairly easily.  Bits of English thrown in here and there, as well as my own knowledge and the captions, helped me especially as the production was full of musical numbers.

The Company Theatre, with the help of Amitosh Nagpal's adaption skills, recreated Twelfth Night in the image of a Bollywood musical.  I loved the company's energy.  It was infectious, and I found myself laughing along with the other half of the audience that understood Hindi (from general perusal of the faces in the theatre).  The actors gestured more than I am generally used to, especially to the audience.  I found it amusing when they would attempt a moment of audience contact with someone who was less likely to know Hindi (the half of the audience that was white).

Viola and Sebastian were dressed the same, as is commonly found.  Poor Malvolio actually wore yellow stockings... tights... and then proceeded to do a musical number in them.  The audience roared.  Everyone was on stage the entire time, those "offstage" clustered to the back with the musicians, joining in for choral parts or other choreographed group dance numbers.

When all was said and done, the audience clapped so long and so loud my arms hurt.  Curtain call must have lasted a full five minutes, at least, since the audience refused to let them go backstage with their cheers and whistles.  It was really lovely, and I'd like to see more productions like this.  I felt like I had a little Bollywood dance going on in my heart for a while afterwards.

Our Brother David

Our Brother David is a new play written and directed by Ruari Murchison, performed at the Watford theatre.  The structure of the story was sound, but it pushed too hard on several points.

The set, lighting, and costumes were functional.  They didn't detract from the show, but neither did they add anything.  The problem I had with the show was that the Murchison created two-dimensional characters.  The main character, David, pushed his creepy nature too far too fast, resulting in a protagonist that I was no longer interested in.  I also had the ill luck to come on the actors' off day, as I was told.

I would give it two stars.  It wasn't horrible, it just lacked the zest and dimensions of a professional production.  For that ticket price, you can see another show, such as those going on at the Globe.  

Day 14: Lost

I spent most of Friday getting lost.  I got myself across the Thames no problem, but then I tried to find my way around... no easy feat.  So in between each of these events, add half an hour of me wandering.

First stop was the HMS Belfast, or rather, just looking at it and taking pictures.  It was closed... which I have found in the past two days to be the theme.  My next stop was the Southwark Cathedral, which I still cannot pronounce.  South-wark.  I loved how each part of the church was built in a different century.  The stones are so old... there's even a Roman road buried underneath it all.  Next, I went to the Golden Hinde recreation.  I felt bad for the folks who must have had to live there so long.  The ceilings were so low!  Even I had to duck, and the average height of an Elizabethan man is two inches taller than me.  So I'm the right height, but just in the wrong century...

It took me forever to find the Clink Prison Museum, and it was not as nice as I had hoped.  It's more of a tourist attraction rather than a historical exhibit.  Although they did go over a lot of the torture devices, and described some truly horrifying fates.  *shudder*.

Next was Twelfth Night, review upcoming.  The Globe tried to sell me seat cushions for a pound.  Really?  +1 for Blackfriars.  And Blackfriars folks, you are no longer allowed to complain.

After I got home, I talked to Ben for a little bit, then I wandered off to the National Gallery.  It didn't interest me that much either, mostly because I don't know painting.  There was, however, a Davinci, which was awesome.  The difference between his work and everyone else is so clear... the light works so much differently in his painting.  So lovely.  The Gallery didn't let me take any pictures, though, even without flash.  I'd have loved to take some pictures of the architecture of the building.  The high ceilings had arches & golden designs.  Paintings, in general, were quite large.  Impressive.  And they all seemed to be about religious subjects.  I'm a little confused why they were preoccupied with these.  I found three versions of Saint Michael, and two of them made him look effeminate.  The only one that was a little better had him in nice armor.

After the Gallery, I sat in Trafalger Square, geeking that I was in London.  And then a biker almost ran me over.  Then another.  Suddenly I was in a sea of bicyclists in pink reflective jackets with pink balloons tied to their bikes.  I was completely confused.  It was a like a flash mob of bicyclists!  And then I saw the sign: Happy 18th Critical Mass.  I grinned.  They adopted our tradition!

When I was done dodging, then I got myself a sammich and went home.  Long day it was, for me!

In Time

In Time

In Time takes the adage that time is money literally. The movie was fun, in a nice, diverting way. For a plane ride it made the two hours pass quickly. The characters were predictable, and the plot held no shockers. It was nice to see Cillian Murphy, although he was playing the bad guy yet again. I would give this movie two stars (out of five). It wasn't awful, just a run-of-the-mill Hollywood car chase & helpless woman production. The obvious moral, steal from the wealthy and give to the poor, is nothing new, and especially not surprising in our current state of affairs.

Day 13: Zoo & Wallace Museum

Day 13

This morning, feel much fresher than the day before, I was out the door by nine and walked through Regent's Park to the ZSL London Zoo. Regent's Park is quite lovely, and I hit it just at the right time of year. Tulips, my favorite flower, are blooming everywhere. The color and design of the gardens is superb. The zoo cost 19 pounds, which I was afraid might be overpriced, but I was impressed with the zoo, more than I thought.

The variety of creatures is lower than at the National Zoo or the Cleveland Metroparks Zoo, but the design of the zoo itself is much better. I think the animals probably have the same amount of space to roam, but instead of the spread-out nature of the other zoos, this one is compact and precise. Key animals are exhibited. Instead of 3 tiger pens, they have one, with two tigers. Instead of 20 foot wide walkways that stretch for miles, they have 5-10 foot wide walkways that clearly guide you through the park. Instead of a deep concrete trench separating you from the tigers, it's a glass window in a concrete wall, and almost reminds of an aquarium. I was about 4 feet from a tiger, when it decided to sit and chill. I took a lot of pictures. Not only the tigers like sitting right up by the glass. The penguins and otters also like to crowd the glass. Otters are HARD to get pictures of.

The rest of the zoo, even though it was small and had a smaller selection, was a good experience. I would recommend it. There's a lot more trust that people won't be assholes and climb over things/annoy the animals. Of course, that also might be because you're on camera, all the time... say hello to CCTV!

Next, I went to Baker Street and the Sherlock Holmes Museum. I chose, at the last minute, not to enter the museum, and instead perused the gift shop. I'm not 6 pounds worth of a Holmes fan. Next stop was the Wallace Museum, a family's permanent collection they've opened to the public. Since it was mostly art, I only looked through the armories. They have a blade that belonged to Cosimo de Medici ^_^. After that, I went to All Souls Church, a 19^th century construction that is very pretty and round. I sat on the porch for a few minutes, looking around, deciding what to do next... geeking out that I am, indeed, in LONDON!!!!!

I guess I expected more variety in architecture when I got here, and more labeling. The English seem hell-bent on confusing strangers. Half of the roads are unlabeled. All the buildings are around 3-8 stories tall, and on the whole, tend to be indistinguishable. I'm afraid I'll get run over by a car, since I keep looking in the wrong direction, and I have trouble passing people in the street (they seem to think you walk on the LEFT... rubbish! I've heard a lot more than English accents... I've hard French, French accents, Spanish, Oriental languages (I won't presume to know which) and other European languages (I'm sorry I can tell the difference between Lithuanian and Russian). I've talked to folks from as far as New Zealand and Argentina and as close as London and the Isle of Wight. I've had Crotian roommates.

The shower was cold this morning... did not make for a happy camper.

...and I just, absent-mindedly, ate an entire 12” pineapple pizza. Well, except for the crusts. I need Ben to eat them... I miss him. :-(

Days 11 & 12: Jetlag

Day 11

My day fastforwarded from midnight to five AM. I lost most of my normal chance to sleep. I arrived at 7 in the morning at London Gatwick, full of a cup of coffee, slightly dazed and thrilled. The line at the British border was pretty short, and a painless process to get my on my way. Until I got my luggage back in my hands, I was dreading the worst. I was surprised that Customs didn't look in my bags, just waved everyone through. Not that I HAD anything to declare, it was just a surprising after US security. Done with the airport, I now had a single objective: get to my hostel.

I managed to find the easyBus in a timely manner, but traffic was awful and it took us about two hours to get to London Earl's Court. I got slightly lost, but walked down the road till I found an Tube station. I bought my Oyster card and hopped on, navigating the system successfully, using transfers and everything, until I got to the Great Portland Street exit. It took about 5-10 minutes for me to figure out which way was north, but once I did, I got to my hostel.

The hostel, YHA London Central, is nice. Better than I expected. Except my room's outlets don't work, so I have to recharge everything downstairs in the public area. My roommates have been mostly absent so far, and a few have been replaced already. I have a top bunk in the corner, much to my delight. I can perch. ^_^

So, now I had several more objectives, since my room wouldn't be ready until 2 and I had arrived at 11. First, I got directions to Barclay's and acquired some British pounds. I had been going completely cashless so far. Then, I asked for directions for the nearest grocery store/Walmart. They directed me to an Argos, a ways down Oxford Street. So, I trekked off again, this time with some powerful espresso. Note: at noon, I had been awake for 26 ½ hours (sans naps 1 & 2).

I got a cellphone, but the place they referred me to didn't have anything else I needed. I came, back, tried to figure out the phone, failed, 2pm came around, I went upstairs and settled in my room. I bought some internet time so I could tell everyone I was still alive, and ended up spending the rest of my 5 pounds of that money in internet and phone calls. I was really desperate to talk to Ben. I needed that. I skyped him when I got a hold of him via international call. Totally exhausted, we talked and I felt much better, so I went back to tackling my not-working phone. I found I had put in the SIM card wrong. Then I waited for it to charge more... apparently it tells me it has no signal instead of telling me it has no battery. So I fixed that. Next, I figured out how to load in the money I'd already purchased for it (it's a pay-as-you-go). Then I tried using Mobilecaller, but the password didn't work because, as I found out later, I had the wrong one... off by one number. *facepalm*

I wandered downstairs, now in a much better frame of mind. I managed to stay up until 7:30pm... which means I was awake for 34 HOURS. I should have taken a picture of my face... Ben said that I looked ready to fall over. Which was completely accurate.

Day 12

So I slept for 11 hours. Woke up roughly at 8am. I wandered down the street, in search of shampoo, and finally found a Sansbury's. I was a little surprised the razors were behind the counter, as I've seen in every other store subsequently. I wonder why. Of course, that's not the only difference here. Signs say “To Let” rather than “For Lease”, the street signs are different, everyone drives on the wrong side of the road, and the people talk with funny accents. Signs instructing people to do things are far more polite than American signs. Instead of “Keep Food and Drinks Off Counter” it says “Please Be Considerate and Refrain From Placing Food and Drink On This Counter”.

I dressed right for the weather... it rained all day. My new green coat kept me dry, and made me stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone, it seemed, was wearing such dull colors! Lots of umbrellas, few raincoats. My first stop were the London Silver Vaults, which I had believed was some sort of museum. I was wrong, they were shops. But the number of shops! So much silver in one place! So much money! Yeah, the Jew went to the silver first. :-P

I got a hold of Denise, once I figured out what that odd noise was. I had never heard my phone ring before. We met for lunch at a cute little vegetarian shop in Camden Town. I had a 2pm appointment for Skype with Ben, which was nice to do, especially since I was awake. On the other hand, the code for this wifi changed, and they made me buy more food before they would let me have more wifi. Bullshit, I say. It pissed me off. Next time (in 2 hours), it's going to be Starbucks. I'll buy something and nurse it. :-P They don't have a code.

We parted ways while I went to the Museum of the Order of Saint John, which completely blew my mind. The crypt that I saw was from the 12^th century. Unfortunately, I was hustled out the door an hour before close, because they decided to close early, which is kinda not cool. I may have to go back later with Mum. The second part of the museum, across the street, did not hustle me out, so I got to spend a minute there, where I learned that the Master of the Revels used to stay there. So Shakespeare would have taken his scripts there. Shakespeare. Went through that door. I had to stand outside for a few minutes. Of course, I feel I also need to mention they have a book of prayers that Elizabeth I owned... Mind. Officially. Blown.

Next stop: The Museum of London! This, too, was better than I expected. This wasn't only a museum IN London, it was a museum ABOUT London, and took my blown mind and did very bad things to it. Showing me remains of civilizations before even the Romans really made it clear to me how London is just piled on top of itself. There's history anywhere and everywhere. The city is the same no matter how much in changes. People have loved this city, lived in this city, for longer than my mind can comprehend. So many people, entirely unknown, except for a select few. It got me thinking more about the meaning of life. This trip is supposed to help me with life choices in the future, and somehow it's making me both more ambitious and more content. How is that possible?

We met up at Euston, and took the National Rail to Wayford Junction. On the train, an asshole started harassing a Muslim woman (verbally). The lady was immediately defended by a gentleman, who began a truly spectacular cussing match. The woman in front of us threatened to call the police, which stopped them from brawling. I couldn't keep my own mutterings to Denise very quiet, and she tried desperately to keep me and the woman who had threatened to call the cops originally under control, to keep the whole thing from starting it up again. I was saying how glad I was that Ben hadn't come along... or the cops WOULD have needed to be called ^_^. I was too far away to have punched the man in the face myself, but I cracked my knuckles.

Finally at our station, we hurried to take a taxi to catch the show, which started literally 30 seconds after we hustled into our seats. Denise was the assistant director for the show so she got me a comp ticket. Yay! Read more about it in the separate review I'm writing.

I got a little confused again about which was north when I got back into London, but I managed to get back to the hostel safe and sound.

Day 10: Flying

Day 10

Well, for now, let's take it from the morning before takeoff. I woke up at 4:30am, and managed to nap again from about 6:30-8:30. That is what I will call Nap One. I bopped around the house till Mom finally dropped me off at the airport, with plenty of time before my flight. Security was a breeze and hardly took any time at all, even for a Monday morning. I had 3 hours to wait before my flight at gate D24, and I did so, oh so patiently, texting Ben with updates every hour that I was indeed still waiting. Finally, they lined us up, warning us that they probably won't have enough room in Zone 5 for all our carry-ons. I was pretty pissed about that, and indeed, they made everyone in Zone 5 check their bags. And not merely just drop them off and pick them up at our gate, they checked it for our final destination. Since my cousin, Sarah, had her luggage disappear last time she was flying internationally, I was not fond of this idea at all. All of my clothes were in there. I grabbed my meds, just in case, and growling, got on the plane.

My mood got better as soon as we took off. I love take-off, so much... the acceleration makes me happy inside. Plus, the pilot was actually funny. He instructed us to “Turn off all blackberries, strawberries, and other kind of berries” among the usual precautions. It made me smile. The flight was a little more than an hour before we plopped down in Charlotte, where I had a 3 hour layover. Better too much time than not enough, I figure. So I read, and texted my goodbyes, and got on the 6:25 flight for London. Love takeoff.

This time, the plane was BIG, and fairly plush. Plenty of restrooms kept traffic out of the two lanes. We each had a little screen, placed in the back of the seat in front of me. I bought the headphones for $5, which were worth it. I watched In Time. It was flashy and entertaining and kept me distracted for two hours (review upcoming). I tried to nap, fairly unsuccessfully. I got about three hours total of napping in (Nap Two), and spent the rest of the time pressing the GPS button in my screen so it would show me where I was. The two hours of movie and three hours of nap and hour of twiddling my thumbs added up to sunrise! London is five hours ahead.

One thing I did notice was that sunsets and sunrises (even when unnaturally close together) are really lovely from up in the atmosphere. My camera really didn't capture it, but take my word for it. Gorgeous. The clouds were their own terrain, with their own mountains, hills, and valleys. In the last few hours of my slight, the clouds cleared for the most part, giving me a an aerial view of Ireland. So now I can say that I've seen it, though I've never been there! I also got an aerial view of Exeter and the southern coast before we landed.

Day 9: DC

Day 9:

A very short report for today.  The rain was persistent throughout the day, but the new coats that me and mum have (identical & hilarious) did their job of keeping all but our legs and feet dry.  We went to the National Geographic Museum for their Samurai exhibit, but stayed to look at the one on the Titanic as well.  I'm always impressed with the curators of this museum.  They provide enough information, in an interesting enough manner, to make me interested in things that I might otherwise ignore.  For example, the Titanic has never been something too interesting to me, but this exhibit got me to pause and look.  Detailed videos of how the ship came apart, large models of the ship before and after the wreck, and information on the discovery process made it enjoyable rather than boring.  The other exhibit, Samurai, I was of course delighted with.  There is nothing like a katana to make my day!

Afterwards, we went to the Folger Shakespeare Museum's celebration of Shakespeare's birth.  Mom and I listened to the Folger's director, Michael Whitmore, deliver a heartfelt speech about the five things that he learned in the past year in his new position.  After that, we trotted over to a demonstration of stage combat.  I already knew 90% of what the gentleman told us, but I loved the energy in that room, and wanted an excuse to go sit in the Folger theatre for free.

Trying to make the time pass so I can sleep so I can pack so I can go to the airport... squee!

Day 8: Warriors of the Rainbow

Day 8:

Goal of the day was to distract me from my pending flight.

First we went to the Library of Congress, and oohed and ahhed over the Gutenberg Bible. I love the architecture there... it's really doesn't get enough attention.  The ceiling is amazing... a true work of art.  After perusing the Early American exhibition, we toodled over to Gallery Place, to watch Warriors of the Rainbow, which was part of FilmFestDC.

Warriors of the Rainbow: Seediq Bale is about the aboriginal peoples, in particular the Me of Taiwan and their rebellion against colonizing Japanese forces.  I had never given much thought to the idea that Taiwan had had a native population, and I assumed (incorrectly) that it must resemble a Chinese or Japanese culture.  Boy, was I wrong.  This film, ten years in the making, originally ran at four and a half hours, but was cut down to two and a half for its screening here in DC.  Taiwan's most expensive film to date, it's both beautiful and terribly sad.

The film had too many battle scenes... I wonder how many were in the four and a half hour version!  The ending was somewhat ambiguous, and could have ended nicely a scene or two earlier.  The CGI was hit-and-miss (the CGI animals' movements were too fast and jerky to be natural).  The cinematography was wonderful, and the setting beautiful.  Taiwan is truly gorgeous.  The Tao culture reminded me of Australian aboriginal culture more than Chinese or Japanese.  Even the music echoed a didgeridoo, to my ears.  The soundtrack complemented the movie very well, and I think I may end up buying it.  I especially loved the vocal harmonies sung by the protagonist and his father.

The acting was totally believable.  Mouna Rudo, the focus of the film, was played by Lin Ching-Tai, himself a member of the native Tao culture.  He did wonderfully.  Moreover, I got to see him in person!  After the film, the audience was treated to a reception with an open bar.  Open bar=I liked the film even more.  Lin Ching-Tai did not speak any English, but with the help of a translator from George Washington University, he talked to us about making the movie.  I took lots of pictures, but my camera hates low light, and most of them didn't turn out.  Whatever the case, I saw a bona-fide movie star!

After the reception, I was feeling quite merry (with the help of two screwdrivers).  Mom and I went to a salad bar (Subway for salads) where I got to order a grilled asian salad "naked" (sans meat, per their menu).  I got to ask "Could I have a naked Asian?"  with a straight face.  I don't think I'll get a chance to do that again!

Days 6 & 7: Las Meninas

Day 6: Thursday

  I successfully managed to spend most of Thursday sleeping.  When mom got home from work, she and I went to see Hunger Games.  I'd seen it once, but it was fun, and I thought mom might enjoy it as well.  She did.

Day 7: Friday

  I successfully managed to absolutely nothing productive with my Saturday, until we went to go see Las Meninas at Howard Community College's Rep Stage.  Las Meninas, by Lynn Nottage, was directed by Eve Muson, halfway imported from Muson's KCACTF performance.  Some actors were from the original cast, others were professional actors brought in for this show, and still others were HCC students.

The play is about the relationship between an African dwarf, forced to be a jester in Louis XIV's court, and the wife of Louis XIV, Queen Marie-Therese.  It is narrated by their love child, sent to a nunnery where she has no choice but to take the veil.  Fatima Quander did a fantastic job as that daughter, Louise Marie-Therese, and Susan Rome provided solid, if somewhat extreme, versions of Mother Superior and the Queen Mother.

The set design was intriguing.  The floor had been painted to look like a ceiling in the style of Michaelangelo.  A mirror angled toward the stage gave us all a clear view from above, allowing the audience to look down at the actors at all times.  At specific times, such as flashbacks or actions happening technically offstage, the mirror became a transparent scrim.  It worked magically.

The costume design was a little questionable at times.  While I understood why making wigs out of ribbons might be cost efficient, I didn't understand why Louis' costume was so strange compared to everyone else's.  I'd need to do some research to confirm my feeling of his costume being out of place, but the rest was fine... except for the cups.  All the drinking and pouring was mimed.  It irritated me.  The "gold" cups, as well, were so obviously painted it also bothered me.  I wish the same attention was paid to the smaller details as it was the larger, such as Nabo's box, which transformed wonderfully as the play went on.

Katie Hileman, as Queen Marie-Therese, did a good job.  Her accent wandered from the Spanish it was intended to be, and her performance was weak in some more trivial scenes, but she nailed her performance with her energy and passion when it mattered.  KeiLyn Durrel Jones performed as Nabo Sensugali, the African Dwarf.  This may seem wrong of me, but I couldn't tell if he was African at all.  The references in the play, through song and dance, conjure an Africa not found on the Mediterranean, a tribal Africa full of drums and rich with myth.  I couldn't imagine that RepStage would have cast a white actor in an African role... I'm sure folks would be up in arms about it.  But it still jarred.  Moreover, KeiLyn is not a dwarf.  He played the role on his knees.  If people would be upset about a white actor taking a black role, why not a man of average height taking a role meant for a dwarf?  Whatever the case, he did phenomenal work.  His expressions and reactions made us care about Nabo and entranced us with his words.

I would go and see this play, but not for the prices that they are charging.  Student rate, yes, but not regular rate.

Day 5: NYC to Columbia

Day 5:

Ben's folks woke us up nice and early, which was very well since check out was at 10am.  We toodled back from Fishkill, stopping in West Chester, PA.  West Chester is a very tidy little town, with delicious Indian and Thai food.  We had a tasty buffet for lunch downtown.  After letting Ben loose in the game store for a little bit, we met up with my friend Brandon, who I missed terribly, not having seen him since January when he came to visit with his girlfriend Tia for a week.  We spent a little time there at his house, then got back on the road so we could be in at a reasonable hour.  We finished up the evening watching Cold Comfort Farm (love that movie!) and then plopped.

This morning, mum left before I gained full consciousness.  Ben and I watched Game of Thrones, then made sad faces for a while until he had to head out.  I won't see him again until May 16th.  :-(

Today is sort of just up in the air.  I'm taking the time to slow down and do what I want.  I'll see if I can visit April later today, and maybe do a little shopping.

Days 3 & 4: Columbia to NYC

What a whirlwind! I've finally found the time to sit down and blog.

Day 3:

The drive took a lot longer than expected. Google Maps tells me the drive from Columbia (MD) to New York City is 3 hours 55 minutes. Lies. It took 6 hours 30 minutes to get to our hotel in Fishkill (Google Maps: 5 hours 20 minutes). So we were a little peeved about that. Ben's phone overheated, and the GPS on mine refused to locate us. We finally got in around 2pm, checked in with Ben's folks and started to relax. Ben and I thought that maybe we could pop in to NYC and see some of the sights before Tuesday, but when we found out the train cost over 25 bucks a pop, we rejected that idea. Instead, we went to Cold Springs, NY, with the folks, and had a lovely dinner by the tracks, then wandered the quaint little town.  We stopped by the Hudson for a while.  I always forget how large major rivers are.  The wind was great, and some parachuters were drifting about in the distance.

Back at the hotel, we learned that Plan A to spend the rest of the night (go see a movie) was not happening, since the theatre didn't have any shows after 7. 7!!! So, we came up with Plan B: Go to Walmart, buy alcohol, and come up with a drinking game: Drinking with Archer. This game has two levels. Level one: Drink when someone in the show takes a drink. Level two: Drink when Archer lies. We had a lot of fun. It's really amazing how much he lies!

Day 4:

Although we missed the 9:25 train (by a hair!), we caught the 10:08 train.  I was a little dehydrated and sleepy, which made me a cranky person at the start of the day, but it wore off as time went on.  My phone was dead and I was afraid my camera didn't have much juice in it, but it had just the right amount to last the day.  It was on the train that I started to have random thoughts that I jotted down in my notebook.  Like, what does it mean to be "American"?  As I'm looking at the commuters on the train, seeing the same habits and attire as small-town Virginia (for the most part), I'm wondering what it is that defines us.  I'll be able to think about this more once I've been in England, I'm sure.  What is it that makes us like each other?

We arrived at Grand Central Station and I started taking pictures like a crazy lady.  We met up with Bevin, Ben's stepdad's daughter, who was at the moment sans children.  From there, we wandered to the New York Public Library where I saw an exhibit on Mary Shelley.  I went mostly because I wanted to tell my friend MJ about it, since she's a fan.  They had drafts from her work on Frankenstein, with words crossed out and such.  I thought it was great... I love to see a writer's work in progress.

From the library and the lions, we went via the subway (which is really easy to navigate) to Union Square to meet up with Bevin's husband and kids.  After a delicious lunch, Ben and I parted from the gang and beelined for the Met.  I was glad to find, when I arrived, that the Met had a "recommended", not required, entrance fee, so I paid about half what they were asking.

The Met was awesome, of course.  Ben and I pretty much only stuck around the armor court and Medieval art.  They had Henry VIII's field armor, which blew my mind, and got me thinking about how museums connect us to the past.  In the past few years, I've stopped getting as excited about how old something is and getting excited about who or what meaning the particular object has.  In the case of Henry's armor, I loved how seeing it made it automatically a shared experience between me and a dead English king.  He saw this armor, must have had an opinion about it... did he think it was funny because they had to make it big enough to accommodate his girth?  What did he think of the artistry?  Whatever the case, he saw that armor, had a response, just as I saw that armor and had a response.  It connect us to the past, in a very awesome way.  He probably would have been confused why we put everything behind glass, however.  In an early modern museum, you were expected to experience objects through all of your senses, even taste.

Another thought I had was just on the pure amount of time spent on pieces of art.  Manufacturing has ruined us.  We need people to value the work again, not just the object.  It seems like a great tragedy.  People of the past created such wonders, and these days, who will pay for someone to do the same?  I also love the attention to stories, how characters are always depicted in motion in medieval art.  Their story is a part of who they are and may even be said to define them.  Again, this is not something we see in modern art anymore.  Where are the stories of the past?  Are we only interested in our own self-expression?  The work of one man, an Ovid, inspired generations on generations of poets and artists.  Where is room for a modern Ovid now?  Can one man's work find that level of respect?

After the museum (my mind now turned to ecstatic goo), we went down Madison Ave to window shop, on our way to the Empire State Building.  That's over 50 blocks.  We had a grand time of it, too.  We stopped for little meals here and there... one chocolate bite cost $2.50, but it was totally worth it.  Butter cream and dark chocolate dusted with cocoa butter.  Om nom.  I certainly burned it off walking!  We had our main course at Pax, a fast food joint that allows you to create your own pasta dish.  We need one in Staunton!

The Empire State Building was both overpriced and worth it.  I loved the view, and it's the only way I would see all of NY in one day.  By the time we got there, dark had fallen, and the city was lit up like a Christmas tree.  I stuck my head out of the grid/fence to look at the ground... teehee.  I love heights.  Ben was not as enthusiastic about the height but I think he still enjoyed it.

Our ride home on the train was full of drunk Yankees fans, and from their shouts and cheering, I'm guessing the Yankees won the game.  It was fairly entertaining to watch them.  The train ride was over an hour, and we were exhausted by the time we got home at 11:30.  I passed out immediately/

Days 1 & 2: Staunton to Columbia

I've had a lovely two days thus far.

Saturday I woke up early, did all my errands, went to work and felt sad that it was my last day there. I left a note telling everyone how much I would miss them, since I was closing. I left right after work, at 4, and drove straight to my mom's place in Columbia, Maryland. DC traffic is insane... I kinda like it. We watched Ocean's 11 until I fell asleep.

Sunday, me and mom went to the Great Sage for brunch. Delicious vegan and vegetarian food! We had mocha pancakes and I had chai tea made with soy. Really tasty, and actually filled me up. Thanks mum for getting the bill! After that we went to the Arundel Mills mall... Oh, civilization! It's a giant, one-story mall full of outlet stores. I checked in on Foursquare and they told me to go to Guest Services and pick up a coupon book, which gave me free fudge from Bass Pro Shops. I wasn't sure whether to get the Mint Chocolate or the Irish Cream, but I knew Ben would like the mint so I went with that. I had a delicious pineapple smoothie that had chunks of pineapple in it (no artificial pineapple), and went into giant shoe stores (oh, so many shoes!). Sadly, the current fashion is peep-toe, which hurts my feet. So every pretty shoe was pain on a stiletto. :-(

My mom also discovered I had a hole in my pants. So I had to buy new pants. Oh the sorrow...

Ben finally got in around midnight. Traffic in 3 different cities conspired against him.

Well, here's the start of Day 3... about to get in the car and go to NYC!!!!!!!

The Winter's Tale

Apparently I can blog-out myself. I've seen a lot of plays in the past week, trying to rev up my reviewing muscles, but found that they kind of hurt. Each review has been shorter than the last... I'm sure this one will be the shortest.

This time I sat one row behind the Lord's Chairs, so still very good seating. The house was full, but not packed. The audience was receptive but not overbearing, like at the Midsummer performance.

The play had average moments and great moments. I was confused why Leontes switches from suspicion to shame and back again so quickly in the first act. I would have preferred a Leontes who let his own self-doubt show a bit more. This portrayal made his subjects look as if they were merely trying to survive a tyrant's wrath, and Leontes look like an asshole... which is certainly textually supported. I want to like the main character of the first act more, I want him to be like he is in the 2nd act... which is sort of the point.

I liked how the Blackfriars' staging made the theatre the court, that each party plead their case to the audience. This enhanced the public nature of these scenes. Hermione's costume was disturbing for the courtroom scene... an excellent choice.

Another good choice made possible by the Blackfriars' conditions was the exit of Antigonus followed by the immediate entrance of the old man. As Antigonus' dying scream faded, the old man was already joking. The complete change of mood was jarring, and also interesting. I think it is a good metaphor for the play as a whole, the connection between comedy and tragedy.

I feel like most of the second half surpassed the first, except for the length of the singing and dancing. It could have been cut in half without any damage to the plot, and stopped the strained feeling as they pushed out the last song.

A few thoughts I had about the play:
1. Would Paulina have showed the statue if Perdita hadn't arrived?
2. Did Camillo recognize Perdita, having spent so much time with her mother?
3. Is Paulina happy to marry Camillo?
4. Why don't we get to see the reunion of father and daughter? (I have my suspicions on this one though).

This play doesn't give us a clean ending. Emotion, instead of explanation, takes center stage. The final scene with Hermione's resurrection brought tears to my eyes, but I wasn't sure if it was joy or sadness. Like the rest of the play, The Winter's Tale is happy to leave us wondering... and we find that no answer is needed.

Well, that wasn't quite as short as I feared it was going to be. In other news, I'm about to leave for Columbia, Maryland, to see my mother. Hurrah!

Tis Pity She's A Whore

"That was like watching someone kill a puppy!" My friend commented from beside me at intermission.

Tis Pity She's a Whore is a dark, disturbing drama about incest between siblings, revenge, love, and blood. I don't want to give anything away, because it is not often that you approach a play without any foreknowledge. Tis Pity is by John Ford, one of Shakespeare's successors, and it's quite a ride. I'd seen it once before, but I was happy to see it again. As I learned at the talkback with the actors afterwards, they have not had many opportunities to perform it. They estimate they have done 80 Midsummers while on tour, and 8 Tis Pity's.

This time I got a seat in the Lord's Chairs, right on top of the action. It was a nice change of pace, but I was disappointed that the house was not nearly as full as for Midsummer... again, I do not know if people were just scared away by the topic or kept away because it wasn't "Shakespeare".

The entire troupe did a really lovely job, from the choice of a modern/steampunk costume, to the character choices. Stephanie Holliday Earl no longer dropped the volume on her lines (which makes me wonder if she was only sick yesterday), and Patrick Earl and Denice Mahler made a sickeningly believable couple. Eugene Douglas gave Vasquez a touch of almost Iago-like calm and manipulation, making a servant character much more interesting than might otherwise be.

I would highly recommend this show, not only because you will likely never have the opportunity to see it performed again in your lifetime, but because these actors perform with passion and vigor, making for a captivating two hours traffic of the stage.

A Midsummer Night's Dream

I attended the April 11th performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream at the ASC at their Pay What You Will show. The house was almost full... the first floor was full and the balcony was filling. The audience seemed to have a lot of young folk in it, and they brought a LOT of energy with them. Throughout the show, they participated in the show in a great way, even calling out advice to the actors occasionally (when Puck looked like he was going to cure Demetrius's eyes of the love potion, the audience clamored at him to stop).

The director's note in the program described their approach to the show as "ridiculous". It certainly was... but a bit too much for my taste. The events themselves were ridiculous, without the actors becoming more like clownish charactures than characters.

I liked the choice for the relationship between Theseus and Hippolyta. Hippolyta tackles him in the first scene, demonstrating a dynamic that makes their marriage happy, rather than uncomfortable. I'm glad to see something other than the "unwilling bride" the text lends itself to. I was a little surprised, however, not to see the typical double casting of Theseus/Oberon, although they did double Hippolyta/Titania.

Denice and Jake Mahler played Hermia and Lysander, a beautiful coupling. They did a lovely job, and personally knowing they were married made their love for each other that much sweeter. Helena took some time to settle into her character. She had some trouble with projection and dropping her voice at the end of her lines, and the large, loud audience did not do her any favors in that respect. However, by the time Act Three rolled around, she was a believable and likeable Helena.

Me, and the audience, adored Rick Blunt as Bottom. His complete lack of inhibition was perfect for the role, although I wished the director had pulled him back a bit. This also goes for the rest of the mechanicals (minus Snout, who had been cut from the script). They seemed like clowns, or children. I liked the imagination and energy of the actors, but again, I would have liked them to make their acting "smaller". Bottom's "ass" voice was annoying, and I would have preferred a lighter hand.

The costume design for the fairies was strictly Indian clothing. I agree with this choice... mostly. I think it's a good way of clarify references to India that Titania makes. However, this also runs the risk of "exoticising" the East, which is a careful balance. Other references to the Indian culture included their forms of dance. The songs that occurred throughout the show, set to the lyrics in the script, were surprisingly beautiful. Puck, played by Michael Amendola, was very dynamic, and rarely pushed his character to far. He took a visible glee in the mischief he caused, and was just a joy to watch.

In conclusion, I felt like this Midsummer was more a farce than a comedy. My own personal taste is much more for the witty comedy, rather than clownish behavior, but I recognize that is my own bias. The audience seemed to love it, but for my own part, I would wish for more controlled performances. I would still recommend seeing this play, simply because of the imaginative choices of the actors, their dynamic energy, and wholehearted abandon in performing this play. No matter how many times I see this play, simple lines will still make me laugh... like "I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all!"

Dido, Queen of Carthage

This time, I did stay for the whole play, especially since I hadn't seen Dido before.

Unfortunately, John Harrell, who played a number of small roles in the play, was ill, so much so that Jeremy West stood in for him. West used a surprisingly small number of index cards for his lines and delivered them with confidence. It didn't hurt the performance as a whole, however.

Allison Glenzer started the play off at a fast pace, so fast I occasionally had trouble understanding her lines. However, in about fifteen minutes she settled into a more comfortable rate that she sustained for the rest of the play. Rene Thornton Jr. did a lovely job as Aeneas. His physicality and deep, lyrical voice were appropriate for the role, and especially wowed in his retelling of the siege of Troy, a long monologue that may have lost the audience if performed by a lesser actor.

Sarah Fallon, in the title role, was much more suited to this role than in Philaster. She brought equal parts vulnerability and royalty to Dido, a nice combination that made for a believably love-struck queen.

The ensemble performance on this closing night of Dido was truly moving, and her death by fire was both artistic, safe, and clear. The music was appropriate and contributed to the show without overpowering. If the show was still going on, I would encourage you to see it, but too late.

The only issue I had with the show was not the script, which was clear and efficient (and made me want to watch more of Marlowe's work) but the story it is based on. I have always loved the tale of the Aeneid, but this time, I was irritated by Dido. Why didn't she just go with him? The only answers are that she didn't think of it in time (which makes her rather stupid) or that she loved her city too much... in which case, it seems more unlikely she would kill herself. I also didn't like how Aeneas kept breaking his promises to go, and then to stay... it makes him more of a dick than a hero. I guess I'll just have to blame Virgil.

Philaster, or Love Lies a-Bleeding

I took the opportunity last night to see Philaster, or Love Lies a-Bleeding at the American Shakespeare Center. However, I had the very poor luck of learning that my beloved childhood dog, Peanuts, had passed away. I left at the intermission of the play to prepare the passover seder and cry. But during that first half of the play, it successfully distracted me from what would otherwise be a distressing evening. Before I get into the specifics of the play, however, there are several things you need to know in case you've never seen a show at the Blackfriars Playhouse

1. Original Practices

As the Blackfriars Playhouse is indeed the world's only operating replica of Shakespeare's indoor performance space (the one in London isn't finished yet), it is dedicated to doing things "the way it was done back then". More often then not, it leads to some great moments that would otherwise be impossible for a regular theatre. While some things would be impossible to replicate without serious repercussions (such as taking away our seat cushions or using candles instead of electricity), the Blackfriars does its best. Some of these things include universal lighting (so the actors can see the audience, the audience can see the actors AND each other), cross gender casting (more often women playing men than men playing women). Blackfriars uses only acoustic instruments from the period, although the songs they play may be modern, as the early modern English heard songs of their time, not Olde Englishe songs. These are just some of the most notable original practices, here is a full list.

2. Pretty Pretty Playhouse

The space itself is incredible. While the seats at the American Shakespeare Center are notoriously uncomfortable, the glow of the lights, the solid wood construction, and the lovely acoustics are well work it. A tip: if you see a show, sit in row H, K, or the Lord's Chairs. The back support here is better... and this is from someone who has had to sit in this playhouse for 8 hours in one day. Don't get a gallant seat unless you've A) seen the show before and know what the actors might do to you and B) are completely confident you will not suffer a sneezing or coughing fit. The gallant seats are on stage and any behavior (e.g., leaving to go to the bathroom) will draw quite a bit of attention.

I'd rather not describe the details of the stage, but imagine this with cushions on the seats and the arch around the discovery space (middle entrance) to be painted to look like marble.

3. Actor's Renaissance Season

The current season at the Blackfriars Playhouse is the Actors Renaissance Season, where they take original practices to a whole new level. Actors have the choice of using sides (scripts with only their lines and their cues), there is no director (although the actors often help each other), and they are free to choose their own costumes. Most of all, all the plays are staged in only 3-11 days of rehearsal. During early performances, do not be surprised to find that they have an intern on book sitting in the corner, ready for the call of "prithee" instead of "line".

Philaster, or Love Lies a-Bleeding

I'd seen a performance of Philaster about a month ago, and enjoyed it thoroughly. It's hard for Blackfriars to mess up a play, so keep this in mind when I criticize them. I've been spoiled, so I tend to nitpick. I'll try to keep all my comments, however, to only the first act I saw last night.

A little plot. Philaster, the son of the usurped king and beloved by the people, falls in love with the usurper's daughter, Princess Arethusa. Philaster himself, played by Gregory Jon Phelps, seemed stereotypical, which I think is just the nature of the script. Young, fiery prince, ruled by his passions, in love with a princess. His mastery of the language, however, is excellent. I understood everything he said. Sarah Fallon seemed a little too old for the role of Arethusa, probably because the last thing I saw her perform was the old Queen Margaret from Richard III. While she was an amazing Margaret, I would have liked to see Brandi Rhome play Arethusa, although Rhome does an excellent job as the honorable Galatea.

Pharamond is the Spanish prince who Arethusa's father intends to marry her off to. I am not sure if Pharamond's think Spanish-like accent was in the script, and if it was, then I have no quarrel with it. If it wasn't, I would have liked to see Aiden O'Reilly, as Pharamond, use a less over-the-top version. While appropriate, it also often made him unintelligible. O'Reilly, in other roles, occasionally has a problem with diction, and giving himself an accent did him no favors. While his performance choice made what might be an obnoxious character quite funny, I was disappointed because the large black wig he wore sometimes obscured his face.

Bellario, Philaster's servant, was played by the VERY pregnant Miriam Donald. Donald, commonly cast as boys because of her slight stature and high voice, nailed the role, although I would like to have seen more emotion from her in certain scenes. However, the belly, I will admit, was distracting. I worried about the tiny woman with a belly half again her size prancing around on a stage where other actors held swords. While her devotion to her craft is inspiring, I'm not sure, as a director, I would have gambled my season on the idea that Donald would not go into premature labor, become sick, need best rest, etc. But if babies can hear what's going on outside the womb, this is going to be one eloquent kid. If he or she becomes the next Andrew Gurr, I will laugh my ass off.

The script says that Bellario is a "little boy". It also says that he is "about 18". This makes me question when the early modern English thought a boy became a man. To call an 18-year old these days a "little boy" might make him a bit peeved, to say the least. SPOILER ALERT: Bellario is actually a woman is disguise. The nature of cross-gender casting, and the nature of the pregnant female form, troubles the sense of male-female and our assumptions about theatre and this playhouse. Would a newcomer to the playhouse think that Bellario might be a girl before me, a seasoned theatregoer? Are we supposed to ignore the belly when we learn Bellario is female, or is she in disguise as "nonpregnant" in the same way that we accept her as a "boy", even though both her pregnant and female nature are blatantly obvious? It's a thought.

In the play, Arethusa pleads on behalf of the boy, who, unbeknownst to her, has been rumored to be sleeping with her. When the king commands her to send him away, she expresses her grief about in a way that reminded me very much of Desdemona pleading for Othello to accept Cassio in his good graces. In both cases the innocent woman is distraught, perhaps too much so, over the fate of a man who she has been suspected of sleeping with. Pleading-Suspicion scenes might make a good paper or thesis. Hmmm...

The inventiveness of this cast is really something to watch. Their mastery of early modern language and performance choices are a result of (for most of them) years of working together as a cast. If you ever get the chance to come down to Staunton, you must visit the Blackfriars. You will not regret it.

I'm seeing Dido, Queen of Carthage, tonight. I'll post tomorrow.