I was desperate to blog last night, and the site was down for 'essential maintenance. Typical. On the recommendation of my sub-editor I watched The Motorcycle Diaries, the story of Che Guevara and his buddy who would go on to found Cuba's medical school. It was brilliant. Fitted right in with what I'm working on. What starts out as a couple of lads on the back of a clapped out bike riding round Southern America, turns into a thoughtful exploration of the inequalities that existed at the time. The inequalites that turned a young medical student into a revolutionary. I think I've now got my dissertation sussed. Next week I meet with my CP tutor and I intend to pick his brains so I can get this project off the bloody ground. It's beginning to drive me nuts.
Tonight, I was out with the girlies. We went to see Return to the Forbidden Planet which was just fabulous. If I say it is a musical Sci-Fi version of The Tempest, you'll start scratching your heads and questioning my sanity. Trust me when I say it is great fun. The music is pulled from 50s and 60s rock'n'roll and the actors are such talented musicians that they swap from instrument to instrument with ease. At the end of the performance everyone was dancing along, clapping and singing badly. Okay, so it was me doing the singing badly, but no one heard me over and above the clapping.
All in all a good night out. Life is good.
Showing posts with label theatre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label theatre. Show all posts
Friday, August 11, 2006
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Andalucian Images of Carmina Burana
It was quite an interesting take on Carl Orff's Carmin Burana, one that I am not convinced worked. The recorded music was interspersed with impassioned flamenco dancing and the occasional solos by key members of the troop. There were also various contraptions on stage which several dancers suspended themselves from. A couple of dwarves and the stallions completed the spectacle.
The flamenco dancing was just stunning. The dancers beautiful and charismatic. I was enchanted by the way the women danced in their white dresses with impossibly long frilly trains, which became at times an extra dance partner. I loved the way they kicked the skirt from side to side. Unfortunately, I felt that too much time had been spent on the dance, and when the principle dancer tapped her way over the crucifix and was then cricified, I soon became bored.
Given that Carmina Borana was a quick tour of medieval life, beginning and ending with O Fortuna, with stops via the taverna and affairs of the heart, and includes one of the most lovely prayers to the feminine divine, I felt more attention could have been made through props and costume to reflect the vivid Andalucian life; as it was the costumes were white, or black. There were heavy religious overtones, which I wouldn't have minded had they included the joyful and celebratory and down right lacivious to balance the dirges. The Andalucian stallions were beautiful, but wasted in two excursions one of which they had four dancers prancing in front of them. The cast of 30 advertised were in actual fact, half of that, which given the restrictions of space on the stage was not necessarily a bad thing. Ultimately, I felt the performance did not do what it said on the tin, which was a real shame.
It was a missed opportunity to show that medieval life that Orff put to music, is not that different to life now. Major concerns of living with the hands that fate deals one are universal. Drinking and love are still the ways people try to offset the feeling that there is no such thing as a happy ending and fate really is out to get you.
After going to the theatre last night and the cinema this afternoon, I realised that my Sunday morning habit of going to the cinema first thing in the morning is a truly excellent way of avoid other patrons. People talked all the way through the performance and rustled their way through snacks of all textures and sounds, not to mention the mobile phones flashing and beeping throughout. My authoritarian leanings are coming out, I'm afraid, patience still is not one of my virtues.
The flamenco dancing was just stunning. The dancers beautiful and charismatic. I was enchanted by the way the women danced in their white dresses with impossibly long frilly trains, which became at times an extra dance partner. I loved the way they kicked the skirt from side to side. Unfortunately, I felt that too much time had been spent on the dance, and when the principle dancer tapped her way over the crucifix and was then cricified, I soon became bored.
Given that Carmina Borana was a quick tour of medieval life, beginning and ending with O Fortuna, with stops via the taverna and affairs of the heart, and includes one of the most lovely prayers to the feminine divine, I felt more attention could have been made through props and costume to reflect the vivid Andalucian life; as it was the costumes were white, or black. There were heavy religious overtones, which I wouldn't have minded had they included the joyful and celebratory and down right lacivious to balance the dirges. The Andalucian stallions were beautiful, but wasted in two excursions one of which they had four dancers prancing in front of them. The cast of 30 advertised were in actual fact, half of that, which given the restrictions of space on the stage was not necessarily a bad thing. Ultimately, I felt the performance did not do what it said on the tin, which was a real shame.
It was a missed opportunity to show that medieval life that Orff put to music, is not that different to life now. Major concerns of living with the hands that fate deals one are universal. Drinking and love are still the ways people try to offset the feeling that there is no such thing as a happy ending and fate really is out to get you.
After going to the theatre last night and the cinema this afternoon, I realised that my Sunday morning habit of going to the cinema first thing in the morning is a truly excellent way of avoid other patrons. People talked all the way through the performance and rustled their way through snacks of all textures and sounds, not to mention the mobile phones flashing and beeping throughout. My authoritarian leanings are coming out, I'm afraid, patience still is not one of my virtues.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Theatre Tonight
I am still ridiculously excited about going to the theatre tonight. You would have thought that having 2 weeks to prepare for the event, would have meant I'd have calmed down by now...you'd be wrong. I will let you know how it went tomorrow.
Hottie rang me today as I bleached the bejesus out of my bath and kept me company as did my chores. We are busy making plans to paint Liverpool purple in August. Don't know if this is enough warning to everyone in Liverpool to evacuate during that period?
Apart from that had a very brief bus journey in the evening, but any recollections disappeared with a pint and a half of beer to celebrate the end of term with my sub-editor. More tomorrow.
Hottie rang me today as I bleached the bejesus out of my bath and kept me company as did my chores. We are busy making plans to paint Liverpool purple in August. Don't know if this is enough warning to everyone in Liverpool to evacuate during that period?
Apart from that had a very brief bus journey in the evening, but any recollections disappeared with a pint and a half of beer to celebrate the end of term with my sub-editor. More tomorrow.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Culture and Internet Dating
As I write this I'm pretty much clutching my coffee and plugged in to Carmina Burana; Hottie is knitting, listening to the Archers. We went shopping yesterday and a trip to Virgin provided me with a relatively inexpensive copy of said music.
The reason for the purchase is that I'm off to the Theatre Royal in a couple of weeks time to see an Andalucian Spectacular set to Carmina Burana. I am ridiculously excited about it. I'm going to the theatre! It's quite a large cast of 30; including singers, flamenco dancers and 2 Andalucian stallions. When the troop last visited Norwich they performed Carmen to rave reviews. It looks like it could be quite an interesting evening; either that or it's going to be pants. One has to take the occasional risk.
Mind you, drinking with Hottie is a bit of a risk. Her limits are far higher than mine, which last time led to me feeling quite poorly in the morning and me continuing to rush past a local tavern, my head bowed in shame. Last night, we were far more restrained and only polished off a bottle of rose and a bottle of Hardy's sparling wine (not as nice as red velevet, gave me heartburn). After boy went to bed, Hottie hit the internet looking for some action from the Guardian Soulmates. I hold my hand up, it was my idea. I think if one is new to an area, knows only work people (and won't date them), then internet dating becomes a viable alternative.
She started with the Guardian website. The Guardian's list is long, the information about the Potential is quite detailed. It does not include much about physical details, though there are some; far more time is spent on interests, occupation, education, salary, star sign, life style choices, a long section of their WLTM and then even more blurb on them. After she used up her 5 free goes, Hottie trawled through the the Independent and the Mirror.
There she made a disturbing discovery. The same 16 men from the Independent, were also available in the Mirror! In disgust, she flounced off to the Sun, and then we started rolling around the floor crying. The Sun's criteria were a bit more basic. There were yes and no boxes, for employment and facial hair! One man, we were a bit perturbed by; his picture suggested a short back and sides cut, his details said shoulder length hair. I still think it was his way of admitting to a hairy back! We were disappointed there wasn't a section for string vests and builder's cleavage.
I'm encouraging Hottie to register for the Guardian service when she gets back to Liverpool. There are worse ways of meeting people.
The reason for the purchase is that I'm off to the Theatre Royal in a couple of weeks time to see an Andalucian Spectacular set to Carmina Burana. I am ridiculously excited about it. I'm going to the theatre! It's quite a large cast of 30; including singers, flamenco dancers and 2 Andalucian stallions. When the troop last visited Norwich they performed Carmen to rave reviews. It looks like it could be quite an interesting evening; either that or it's going to be pants. One has to take the occasional risk.
Mind you, drinking with Hottie is a bit of a risk. Her limits are far higher than mine, which last time led to me feeling quite poorly in the morning and me continuing to rush past a local tavern, my head bowed in shame. Last night, we were far more restrained and only polished off a bottle of rose and a bottle of Hardy's sparling wine (not as nice as red velevet, gave me heartburn). After boy went to bed, Hottie hit the internet looking for some action from the Guardian Soulmates. I hold my hand up, it was my idea. I think if one is new to an area, knows only work people (and won't date them), then internet dating becomes a viable alternative.
She started with the Guardian website. The Guardian's list is long, the information about the Potential is quite detailed. It does not include much about physical details, though there are some; far more time is spent on interests, occupation, education, salary, star sign, life style choices, a long section of their WLTM and then even more blurb on them. After she used up her 5 free goes, Hottie trawled through the the Independent and the Mirror.
There she made a disturbing discovery. The same 16 men from the Independent, were also available in the Mirror! In disgust, she flounced off to the Sun, and then we started rolling around the floor crying. The Sun's criteria were a bit more basic. There were yes and no boxes, for employment and facial hair! One man, we were a bit perturbed by; his picture suggested a short back and sides cut, his details said shoulder length hair. I still think it was his way of admitting to a hairy back! We were disappointed there wasn't a section for string vests and builder's cleavage.
I'm encouraging Hottie to register for the Guardian service when she gets back to Liverpool. There are worse ways of meeting people.
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