I Began This.....

I started writing this post back in early November and then gave up because I needed to source pictures. -

"I have been writing this blog for nearly three years and I have still not found a satisfactory way of creating engaging posts on a regular basis. I thought the iPhone would be the answer but whilst it allows me to post remotely, I can't seem to get it to include images. I am sure there is a way, but as yet it evades me. At least this way, my journeys home on the train would at least afford me some time to post, especially as I am no longer on Grindr!

Since my last list of reviews, there have been no less than 9 shows including 2 cabaret, 1 new musical, 2 revivals, 1 new adaptation and 3 new plays - in 8 different venues! D'ya know what, I have just double-checked my diary and it's actually 10 shows in 9 different venues - I sneaked an Offie nomination in on a Saturday. "

All well and good, but I never got around to finishing it. I shall have to do better but it has been such a busy season and since I wrote this I have actually been to 25 more productions in London and even a couple out-of-town. No point in dwelling on my lack of blogging prowess. I might as well start with a fresh new year.

A Pause

I realise that gaps in my blog are becoming more regular but work has gone through the roof recently. If I am not reviewing I am judging for the Offie's and if not that then I am swimming or sleeping. Tonight I am in Colchester to see Andrew Neil in Pinter's A Slight Ache and then I will have two WHOLE catch-up days then a weekend in Crystal Palace. I need this time to clear my Xmas work load, so I will hopefully be able to enjoy the holiday season. This will be days for prioritising. Well, I hope that's how you spell it!

iPhone Casualties

With the problems I had with my iPhone today I have lost all of the apps I had downloaded. Most of them were free anyway and those that weren't have not cost anything to replace. Interestingly there are a couple of free ones I am not replacing either, namely Grindr and Bejewelled Blitz. I waste far too much time on either!

Oh Yeah....

..... I am looking for trackie bottoms and a nice overnight bag. For me, that's a lot of shopping.

Shopping List

Bizarre as it may seem, i'm one of those gay men who doesn't seem to have the shopping gene. It usually fills me with dread so I was considering going on e-bay. I'm not particularly ambitious about this but I will ask Sean's advice as he e-bays much more than me. I am looking forward to a visit to the 99p shop tomorrow, though! Class!

Get Up & Go

My get up and go appears to have been replaced by a dull lethargy that doesn't sit well with me. Whilst I have more than adequately caught up with my sleep, it seems to be taking me a while to crank up, back into my usual fitness routine. At least yesterday gave me a chance to catch up on my blog and organise my diary for the next few weeks. This week is now taken up with openings including another Bond play at The Cock Tavern, my first, albeit off-beat Christmas Show at Above The Stag and Saturn Returns at The Finborough. I have also decided to head over to Hoxton on Saturday night to see Secret Boulevard, as I have been shamefully neglecting my judging duties. I also need to try and see Reasons To Be Cheerful at Stratford East at some point.

Since last night I have already committed to several events in November, including a trip to Colchester, plus the Offie Dinner, meetings, launches and of course, work. I must not loose sight of the photo shoot which should take place at the end of the month and the Diaghilev piece I am supposed to write. If that lot isn't a reason to be on top of my game physically I don't know what is. I also have a wedding to go to in early December, so I shall use that as my focus.

Twitter

As you may be aware, I regularly use Twitter. I actually rather like it and the other day I witnessed, or as close as anyone could, Stephen Fry's departure from the world of Tweets.

I forget why but I was logged in when he was posting images of The Harry Potter set. At the time I thought this was odd and indeed when he later posted that he had to 'sit on the naughty step' I asked if it had been because of the images. Such things are SO ridiculously protected.
Anyway he didn't reply and then a fellow Tweeter spotted him in town. No great shakes, except that the post reminded me to look him up, literally minutes after he posted 'Bye Bye' and closed the site.

Ravenhill on the Cock

Mark Shenton retweeted a link to Mark Ravenhill's piece for The Independent today, discussing the work of Edward Bond at The Cock. It rankled slightly as you don't have to read too far between the lines to see how this was simply a very well timed piece of advertising for Adam Spreadbury Maher's new production, bearing in mind that Ravenhill is planning a new production of Madame Butterfly at The Lil' Opry House, Spreadbury Maher's other theatre in the not-too-distant-future. Quid Pro Quo Clarice, Quid Pro Quo.

Ravenhill points out in his piece that Bond, generally considered to be one of our greatest living playwrights, has been abandoned by the big houses such as the Royal Court and The National. The truth is Bond's work, as great as it is, is distinctly unfashionable at the moment. It may seem a harsh truth to take, but larger houses are businesses and any business that doesn't heed market trends runs the risk of loosing money. Bond plays - both content and style - are the very stuff of Fringe Theatre at the moment and his appearance in a season at The Cock Tavern is no more unexpected than, say seeing Shopping And Fucking being performed on The Fringe. The only unusual thing is his involvement in the season.

The legacy of the playwright is that his work lives for ever and Bond is particularly lucky because his genius was discovered and celebrated in his lifetime. Actors and their performances may come and go but plays live eternally.

The Changing Seasons

Are producing some glorious sunrises.

The Winner

The Disgraced Councillor

The Hosts

The Dance Floor

Halloween Prep

I enjoy a good party and Halloween is a chance to dress up like a tit and really party! For the last few years I have been going over to Northern Ireland for Halloween, enjoying the hospitality of David & Vincent. Sean assisted me (told me what to do) again this year and the action shot below is the result. This year, David and Vince actually threw the party and they really went to town to create the best haunted house in Belfast.

Espresso Martinis

Bad!!!!!!!

The Rest Of My Life

One of the most fun things I did over the last three weeks was visit Harrods for tea - or more accurately perhaps, Laudree, which is based in Harrods. It was an opportunity for me and Sean to met Edd Kimber, winner of The Great British Bake-off. I had been interested in this cutesome young chef since I saw the programme - I don't see much TV - and I decided to follow him on Twitter, where I invited him to tea. It was a lovely time although Sean had much more in common with him than I did. I did, however relate in a very particular way, to the cakes on offer!

Much Of The Same

OK, I'll admit there has been another large gap in my blog but to be honest the situation has not changed. I am at the theatre every night, it seems, sometimes witnessing moments of unadulterated pleasure and sometimes wishing I hadn't bothered. The last show I wrote about was Heroin(e) For Breakfast at the Croydon Warehouse. Since then I have had tea at Harrods, travelled to Northern Ireland, made a fancy dress outfit, partied Above The Stag, visited four hiterto unseen theatres and got a new bike. More of those things later, here are the links and further comments to productions I have seen.

The Fool by Edward Bond featured as part of their Bond season and was actually directed by the man himself. Running at 2 hours 45 minutes it was ridiculously long in such an uncomfortable theatre and desperately needed cutting but I guess that's the last thing a writer/director will do. Adam Spreadbury Maher should have regarded the whole and demanded the cuts of the director. The design reached depths that not even the Union Theatre had sunk to. This was supposed to be a double night of Bond but because of the new running time, I had to reschedule The Under Room for the following Sunday. Another well crafted play given a shameful treatment, staging it in the beer cellar of the Cock - I suppose that's five new venues I have visited then! Uncomfortable, noisy and ill-suited to performance, I would love to know how they got the venue past the Fire Officer's checks. I had no idea where the emergency exits were.

The Missionary's Position at Jackson Lane, used an end-of-pier pastiche to tell the true story of Harold Davidson, the original 'naughty vicar'. This show seems to have been touring for a while and whilst I thought it was rather fun, the audience nearly brought the house down with laughter. The Blues Brothers was rather sad. One wag quoted that the Arts Theatre was the 'Theatre of Broken Dreams'. I would be fascinated to know why it consistently fails it's hirers. Here, I would imagine it was the producers who are at fault, as litigation before the show meant that the billboards were painted over, pending the legally correct title for the show. No programme, poor bar service, mediocre script, good performances with a lively band and a house that was a third full on Press Night. Some tickets you can't give away, I suppose.
The Landor Theatre brought it all back to normal with a sublime production of Tomorrow Morning. Tom Hopkins production was wonderful, the design intriguing and the casting excellent. If there is a criticism, the sound was unbalanced quite badly and judging from other reactions to the show, has yet to be adjusted.

Fascinating Aida at The Pheasantry was my second attempt to see this show at this venue, after walking out last time. Thankfully the service - it's a Pizza Express too - was much better, not great but better and was more than made up for by the show. Here is a link to their one of their numbers, which sadly, I have not been able to extricate from my head. La Soiree followed the next evening, at a mirror-tent on the South Bank. Featuring acts from La Clique, it was rather good, but there was little new going on. Thankfully the English Gents supplied us with two new solo routines but the rest, as fun as it was, was a repeat of La Clique at The Hippodrome.

Follies at Ye Old Rose & Crown was a bit sad. Badly designed and staged and featuring some fairly OTT acting, the pub seemed friendly and supportive enough but those running the venue really need to go to The Finborough, The Stag or even the Union to see how FOH is done properly. Finally in this three week marathon I went to The Blue Elephant to see Mervyn Peake's The Cave, which was both interestingly structured and well performed.

Today, I have spent the day thinking I would have to head out again and I don't. In fact, I got my dates mixed up and don't have to be at the theatre until tomorrow. A bit of a rest I think.

Back to Back

I seem to have been going to the theatre incessantly over the past few weeks and whilst I find this to be a generally joyous experience, it spare me very little time for personal musings. I shall try to break down my last few visits with links, so I can get on to the more fascinating things that have been happening in my life. I actually need to refer to my diary for this!

Monday saw me at the opening of Celebrity Autobiography - a fascinating import from the States that could well be the saviour of the Leicester Square Theatre. Not that it was floundering, but this is a show blessed with an interchangeable star cast and an endless supply of unintentionally comic material. The Leicester Square Theatre, of which I am particularly fond, is gradually building a reputation as a cabaret/comedy venue and I sense CA to be a long runner.

Tuesday was a disaster on many levels that in turn, brought my attention to the power of Twitter and Facebook. I was supposed to attend Fascinating Aida at the Pheasantry, the Pizza Express venue that aimed to replace Pizza On The Park. Press, Management and PE Staff and general politeness fell out of the window on that opening night in a flurry of 'We've Sold Out Arrogance and Indifference'. Faced with this I left the building and in a fit of anger announced on Twitter that I would never return. Since then I have had formal apologies all round and a particular invitation to attend once more at my own convenience. I will be there next week and shall keep you posted.

The Irish Curse at ATS was an interesting play that never quite matched the courage of its convictions. Basically I felt there to be a little too much schmaltz in there and some of its cast lacked the emotional maturity required. Somebody asked me if they should see it and I said that they should, but they should go later in the run. I felt the cast needed time to get to know each other a bit better.
Me & Juliet was a brilliant production of a VERY bad musical by Rogers and Hammerstein. Nuff said. The Finborough Theatre currently has no bar attached and cannot house its customers comfortably before the show or in the interval. I have been reassured by AD Neil McPherson that the new bar/restaurant will be open before Christmas. This venue has produced particularly great work here this year and yet the bar has been an absolute nightmare.

Friday was a bit of a surprise with a rare visit to the Croydon Warehouse. Heroin(e) for Breakfast was loud, obnoxious, aggravating and desperately good theatre. Get there if you can.

Well that was last week!!!! This week I had the first of my Edward Bond plays at The Cock Tavern. The Fool, originally staring Tom Courtney in 1975, is a good play that was here given a mediocre staging. Bond himself directing probably didn't help and it would have been interesting to get a young, edgy directors approach to the piece that seriously needed both pace and a little editing - it's running at 2 hours and 45 minutes at the moment! I was somewhat encourage by the 6 names listed adding to the artistic team in the play including make-up and wigs, costume and set design. It look shit! A complete joke that I tried to ignore until one actor walked on with a wig SO IMMEASURABLY BAD it was difficult to stop bursting into laughter. Quite why anyone would walk out onto a public stage, in a drama wearing that I am not sure.

I would love to have a chat with their artistic team to find out their training, background and commitment to the this Bond Season as, quite frankly, this work was an insult to it.

Giving Thanks

The most important thanks I will give this November is that Sean has had an all-clear from the doctor. Recently he asked me to assist him trying to meet deadline on Priscilla. Naturally I took the task extremely seriously!

Bike Voucher!

Eeek! My bike voucher arrived and I will have my new bike for the weekend. How exciting! I was beginning to feel that I may strangle somebody on the train in the morning and they never ran on time. I also picked up a nasty cold so its been a really gross couple of weeks for me studded with moment of absolute gorgeousness.

As the new weekend approaches I fully intend to detox, resume excercises and make a wellness plan for my soujorn in Norhern Ireland.

Zorro, Packed Houses, Tears and Bells

A week in theatre can be a hit or miss affair but I must say that this week the bar was raised a level. The Drowsy Chaperone on Tuesday meant a schlep up to Highgate where I have to say, I have always felt a little awkward. The Plews Clan have always been terribly welcoming but the shows tend to be a hit and miss affair. I seem to remember liking Deathtrap, Forever Plaid and Hot Mikado there but being quite cutting about a few others. Fortunatley Racky had done a grand job with Chaperone and it was fun to catch up with various people including the gorgeous producer de jour, Thomas Hopkins, the ubiquitous lighting designer Howard Hudson and the lovely Matt Rawle who were in the audience.

I wasn't expecting much on Wednesday at the White Bear in Kennington but I knew that I was going to meet Angela again. I had no idea what The Last Pilgrim was about but I steeled myself for some drama. It was one of those VERY rare moments for me and I left the theatre with tears in my eyes. Compelling, gripping theatre expertly performed.

Departure Lounge at the Waterloo East Theatre was Hollyoaks After Hours, set to music. Good music but terrible construction and lacking the courage of its convictions. Very dull!

On the other hand, Bells Are Ringing was an absolute hoot from begining to en. In the bar I was reunited with Andrew and met his colleague Phil. Their critique of the show was hysterical, especially the bit about the Strallens. After this I sped across London with my guest for the evening, Peter Bull to get to Sideshow - The Weirdest Show On Earth in what was a very eliptical week. I am actually exhausted just looking back on it now!

Mad Things

I recently had a look back at last years blog post at about this time, only to discover a huge gaping hole where my posts should have been followed by a list of shows. It seems its that time of the year again as I appear to be at the theatre 5 nights out of 7.

After my gorgeous anniversary weekend in town - Champagne at Liberty's, Cocktails at Waterstones, Dinner at Kettners, frolics at The Marylebone Hotel - I was rather looking forward to a rest on Monday, albeit after the launch party for Sideshow at the Leicester Square Theatre. At this event I met two very interesting people. Andrew, one of the West End Whingers and Angela Hyde-Courtney from The Audience Club.

I had been intrigued to meet the West End Whingers for some time, particularly after they had quoted my review George M Cohen on their Twitter site. A personable fellow, he had to dash as he was off to see Caroline O'Connor at The Garrick that evening. I was a big fan of O'Connor and Russell Labey was directing so naturally I was rather jealous, which is when they offered me spare ticket.

So my night off was scuppered but the O'Connor show was a triumph.

Happy Anniversary

And they said it wouldn't last!

Funny Old Week

I must say that on the theatrical front, I have had a couple of corkers this week. Firstly, George M Cohan Tonight proved yet again that nobody appears to check out The New Players Theatre before hiring it. I personally think that the venue is quite superb featuring a black-box stage and seating for nearly 400 people. There is a bar at the rear of the auditorium and boxes are available. The venue retains its old school shape but cannot seem to find the right show to fill it. Until then, hapless hires and presumably a few goodwill cases rent the place out and die horribly there.

For those planning on renting this venue for their show please take heed. You will need a grand design concept, lots of imagination and a decent budget. Anything less will look lost or cheap. This stage requires textures, colours, inventive lighting and careful sound. Invariably the shows that hire this venue are on Fringe budgets and die a death because of it. George M Cohan Tonight was ill-conceived anyway but I felt the need to remind producers you shouldn't even attempt to mount a show here, without experienced designers on board.

The second show of the week raised so many questions I am not actually sure where to begin. The Ripper's 5 should probably be called The Ripper's Five but that's just me being a little pedantic I am sure. The venue, Theatro Technis, a converted mission hall near Mornington Crescent was completely new to me so I was a little nonplussed upon arriving to discover the gates to the venue still chained up at 7.05pm - the Press Night was scheduled to start in 25 minutes. Before long, the Manager appeared and unlocked the gate to let us in.

Seeing a lot of Fringe shows I am used to often being the only reviewer at a press night but it all gets a bit sad when there are actually very few audience there too. I am under no allusions that Press Nights are often 'papered houses' - freebies, so what does an empty Press Night say about the work you are about to see? You couldn't give tickets away?

The auditorium is large and probably seats about 150 people in total although sadly there were only 17 that evening. The show, by and large, was awful. It was an interesting idea but the creativity stopped there. The gay sub-plot was vaguely ludicrous and did nothing for the story except make it longer. There was gratuitous male nudity, appalling direction - seriously bad - and shoddy lighting. On the plus side there was a valiant attempt at wigs and make-up and whilst the songs all sounded the same, musically they were relatively sound.

I must say that the notice announcing Tuesday Matinee performances are being 'specifically aimed at schools' is something of a worry. Not for the subject matter of prostitution, rape, homosexuality, necromancy or murder - let's face it, that's just another episode of Eastenders. No, I am more concerned that kids might be led to believe that this mess is considered good theatre practice!

Wonder Woman

OK, well I can probably be forgiven for getting excited about Lynda Carter: At Last. As expected she still looks stunning at 59 and thankfully, she remains affectionate about the role that made her a household name. The problem I had was that we have had no inkling as to her work over the last thirty years. It may be true that she has carved a niche for herself as a vocalist and she can carry a tune but I expect a little more from my musical idols at 59. I expect them to be a little more polished in terms of dialogue; I expect them to remember the names of the band; I expect to care a little more about their musical career not to be surprised that they had one.

Don't get me wrong, she seemed perfectly lovely but there was no emotional connection there. She would have probably gone down better at Ronne Scotts!

Izzy Van Stroe

Congratulations to Don & Celine on the birth of their second daughther, Izzy.

Butterfly Effect

Evidently somebody on the other side of the world was having a wonderful time last night.

As I sat down to an evening of Gilbert & Sullivan, my immediate reaction was what the fire officers might think if they saw the usher crowding extra people into the centre aisle/only fire exit. It's always great to see a full house but this was claustraphobic to say the least. The production of HMS Pinafore was not bad, though lacked focus and balance. There were good moments and the scaling down of G & S can work remarkably well but it must be done with an eye on the whole. Here we had accomplished singers but decidedly ropey acting - generally more befitting pantomime rather than G & S and flabby direction. The make-up was particularly bad, especially as the design team seemed to be accomplished in other areas.

I recognised one of the cast from a crowded bar, many years ago.... - well, the embarrasment kicked in. Finally, to cap it all, one of the cast stood at the bottom of the exit stairs - in full costume and make-up but out of character - with a bucket requesting donations for cast drinks! All very disturbing. To cap it all, my cycle was stolen. The lock had been professionally snapped in two and I was left standing in Islington with a helmet and saddlebag.

The Rosemary Branch

This is a theatre I have been avoiding for years, for no reason other than I was late for a performance once. It took ages to simply get there and nothing should hold a theatre curtain, least of all a critic. I have cycled here today from London Bridge, which made things much easier and they have cycle parking facilities, which is a relief. More importantly they are 4 minutes away from Dalston Junction, where there is a direct line to Crystal Palace! Bring on the showgirls!

Spare Time

As I may have mentioned earlier this week, it is taking some time to get back up to speed with my theatre going. This is a mixture of Emma, our beloved reviews commissioner being on holiday for a couple of weeks and the new season picking up speed. This said, my evening are beginning to fill up and I found myself at the theatre for four nights last week - more often than some may do in a year. Monday was Maurice, Wednesday was Punk Rock and Thursday, Sofie Mason invited me to attend Spare at the New Diorama Theatre.

Spare is a new piece from Sebastian Rex and his company Acting Like Mad. It deals, in an uber theatrical manner, with the problem the abuse of young people. Despite the many measures that society puts in place to stop the cycle of abuse, it will still happen. Corruption and selfishness is in our very nature and we are unlikely to break that cycle.

Whilst I didn't particularly agree with Rex's message, I have to admire the work he has staged here. The writing has clarity and style without being patronising and the staging is bold and inventive without being superficial. The company consists of a mix of five girls and three boys and there is an interesting surprise that adds a certain frisson to each performance. I am quite tempted to see it again for that very reason and not simply for the boys in their underwear.

Spare runs until the 25th of September at the New Diorama Theatre. Try to see it twice, if you can. I will.

Design For Living

With the background I have in art and design I was always going to approach theatre productions with one eye on set, costumes or make-up. However I will not always name-check them in a review unless I feel them to be particularly good or particularly bad. This week I have seen two plays that highlight the dilemma.

Monday I was at the opening of Maurice at the Above The Stag Theatre. I am a big fan of the work at the ATS generally, although I do have issues with certain areas of this particular adaptation. This aside, I realise that budgets are particularly tight at many Fringe Theatres so attempting a costume drama is a questionable task. Decisions are made, corners are cut and whilst this production certainly looked better than the last, ultimately it suffered from the lack of a good wardrobe supervisor and set designer. Tim McArthur as the director, has insinuated a line of humour into the play that seems to appeal to modern audiences, which is perfectly acceptable and indeed finding the accessibility of a period piece could be considered his role.

Lack of funds may limit design options but should never limit imagination or care. Sadly, all too often I see plays with unsuitable hats, shoes, trousers or wigs. You almost expect it on the Fringe! But I really get annoyed when I see un-pressed trousers, un-polished shoes or wigs that have simply been taken out of the Smiffy's bag and sat on the head.

Who is saying - "Well, it won't matter. Nobody will notice. It's all about the acting really." ? The Director? The Producer? The Actors? or God forbid, The Designer?

IT DOES! THEY WILL! IT ISN'T

That said, last night I witnessed things at the other end of the scale. The most interesting thing about Simon Stephen's Punk Rock at the Lyric Hammersmith was the set. A vast library. Masses and masses of carefully bound volumes soaring into the flies, punctuated with lead-glass window panes. It looked like something straight out of Hogwarts and was extremely impressive. It completely over-powered the drama of the play, which it must be said, was not a particularly difficult task.

Great designs do not make great plays and great plays can be damaged by bad designs. Think on't.

'Tis The Season

September is already upon us and as yet my visits to the theatre seem to be few and far between. I caught The Remains of the Day at the Union and Kate Dimbleby: I'm A Woman at the New End but so far that's it so far. I am scheduled for Closer Than Ever at the Landor and the Offies have suggested I visit HMS Pinafore at the Rosemary Branch but to be honest, I haven't even booked that yet. I rather enjoyed the extremely full schedule I had before the Summer and feel a little uneasy as to how quiet it seems to have become.

One highlight was a chance to see the revival of Maurice at the ATS earlier this week. On the whole, I found it a much better production the the previous incarnation. The script has been re-jigged slightly and there are some fine performances but the play remains unbalanced and I am not sure if this is down to director Tim McArthur or the writers Roger Parsley and Andy Graham. Either way, it's an enjoyable romp through the social mores of England at the beginning of the Twentieth Century based on the novel by EM Forster. If you get a chance, go see it and judge for yourselves.

Next week Christina, my flat mate, goes on holiday for a week and during that time I shall attempt to get back to doing some painting. St Marina is severely behind schedule and I simply feel that I have not been being creative enough. I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend with Sean last where I put my all into a loaf of bread but I can't possibly put all my creative side into things that I eat.

Tonight I am off to see Punk Rock at the Lyric, Hammersmith. I know nothing about it and am going simply to take pictures at the aftershow party for work. Someone mentioned wine too.

Remains of the Day

Last night I visited the Union Theatre for the premiere of The Remains of the Day by Alex Loveless. This was a valient and romantic effort to bring Kazuo Ishiguro's novel to the musical stage but it was always going to be a difficult job. In musical theatre, when the emotions hit a certain height the characters sing. Quite often, if the emotion is beyond expression in song, then the characters dance. It's a simple formula that can be universally applied. Remains of the Day is a novel about the suppression of emotions in favour of duty, so a musical adaptation need special care and a little more delicacy than appears in Loveless score.

The musical structure requires a good deal of work and the focus is off kilter. There are more musical numbers about the impending war and Darlington Hall than there are about the central, unresolved love story and we never really hear Stevens and Miss Kenton sing a duet until the middle of Act Two. When they do finally sing, it's rather lovely but sadly too little, too late.

Remains of the Day is a musical ready for its first workshop before an audience, not its London Fringe Premiere. Hopefully Loveless, who shows promise as a composer, will see the gapping holes in his work and darn them appropriately.

James' Front Page - he has finally left us.

Mr Groff Does The Wheelbarrow

Current marketing for the West End comedy-thriller Deathtrap show Jonathan Groff teaching Simon Russell-Beale how to do it, LA style.

Recycled Theatre

As Mark Shenton noted today the new theatrical season begins this week and it appears that the first offering to be sacrificed to the critical gods deserved its final roasting. The Jellyfish Theatre is a temporary venue apparently built from completely recycled materials. Ecological plays are practically as old as 'message' plays but what I don't understand is why the temporary nature of the build. Surely resources could have been put to much better use staging the play in a venue that already exists. I realise that rents are high for theatre hires etc but think about other options. I have seen theatre on the street; in a hotel; in a disused council house; in a restaurant - in fact I used to direct showcases in a restaurant - so the possibilities for venues for mounting a good ecological play are limited only by imagination.

The imagination that has been put into the build is all well and good but ultimately it is a disposable theatre. It seems that the play being performed there is equally disposable opening to many bad reviews in much of the Press. This is a venture not about the play but about the spirit of the event. Are we critics supposed to sit there and take the play in question on the chin because the company means well? I hope not.

Spot The Difference

Glitter Pumas

Saw these babies in a window at Covent Garden and thought they were fab!

Storm Clouds and Rainbows

This was going to be a difficult weekend for me in several ways, not least that I have been having some issues with the man lately. My birthday had been lovely (Rules) and Rowena had been a guest in my home this week for a couple of evenings, which really just added to the joy of the week. The problems arose from how I was dealing with certain issues badly. I have always striven to be as up-front and honest about my feelings with him as he is so special to me in many, many ways. I had not been true to this for a while and I had let things build and build out of all proportion until I realised I was really upset. For the first time since I had moved Sean came to visit me in Crystal Palace and that was an important start. It rained. Heavily. Thankfully I got him home before the real deluge started but for the first time on my territory we sat and talked about our relationship. I found this an excruciatingly difficult but invaluable exercise that has only helped to make things stronger. The Deucalion storm that beat down upon the rooftops of Sydenham finally abated and a rainbow soared from behind the trees of Crystal Palace Park into the cloudy skies above. A sign? Probably not. Simply a romantic fancy, but I have always been a romantic at heart.
Food and wine followed and in the morning – eventually - a trip around the park. I was eager to show Sean where I swam – he commented that the staff looked worried when I came in but I can’t think why that would be! We then took in the grounds including the dinosaurs and naturally the remains of the palace itself. We also popped into the Crystal Palace Museum which is always worth a look. Sean has a reconstruction of the original catalogue of the Great Exhibition so it was all fascinating for him. After this we wandered up to the Exhibition Rooms where we ate a gorgeous meal until it was time for him to go home.

With all the foreboding aside it turned into a wonderful weekend with baking, cooking, resolutions decided, plans made, drinking and catching up with Simon and Cassy that made it even better. I am glad I was able to make the most of it because, let’s face it, it’s our last Bank Holiday before Christmas.

Body Image

Those of you who have known me over the last year will realise that I have been dieting. Well in February the diet officially stopped one year after it started and I had hit my goal weight. Naturally after a year of dealing with this, I was at something of a loss as to what to do next and decided to try and tone up a little. Whilst I have actually put on a little weight I have been desperately trying not to feel too anxious about it. As Sean will tell you, I don't always succeed and I still have very dark days when I consider my body.

However, the truth of the matter is that a year ago, I would never have taken this picture, let alone published it. OK, there is still a hell-of-a-lot of room for work but this picture made me feel much better about what is achieve able and what I had already achieved.

Keeping Up

Australia, Taunton, Bude, France, what next? Well, obviously for those who know me well, Belfast! This year David and Vincent will be hosting the Halloween Party and I have already decided - thanks to Ralph's inspired thinking - what to go as. It will remain fairly secret until a week or so before I go but I am naturally quite excited. Ralph and Tyron have already suggested that they may go and Paul is looking at booking his flight soon too. It's nice to notice so much of my work featured on the invitation. What larks!

More French Pics.

Lost In France

Don and Celine certainly knew how to look after me and I am quite positive I put on more than a little weight whilst I was over there. It’s all meats and cheeses and bread. Absolutely gorgeous! One day we went over to Vesoul to their Farmers Market where I bought garlic, honey and cakes galore. In the supermarkets I stocked up on wines, fois gras, chocolates (ahhhhh, Suchard Rocher!) and cheese. Fresh produce grow all around and plums ripen and fall from the trees ready to be collected by the locals to be turned into pies or liquor.
The family live in a tiny village now and Don would happily wander along with the kids to get them out from under Celine’s feet for a while and for a bit of exercise, although with Storm there is rarely a chance to rest before she is off up the street.
Dinner was occasionally eaten outside as the weather was beautiful and the views stunning. On this particular evening, my last, Celine cooked a simply divine Boeuf Bourguignon, on a bed of Sauted Courgettes. That night we sat watching the sun go down and the stars come out. Perfect.

One day, Alain and his wife Isabelle came to visit which was a treat bringing along their little girls Anjali and the adorable Kimi. Kids, games, silliness, bad French (from me), good food and wine - what more could I have asked for. I can't wait to see the family again, only next time, it will be bigger!

Catching Up

Being without online access is a little new to me and can be frustrating at the best of times. Couple this with overseas travel and I am in a cold sweat even as I write about it. Even so, I surrendered myself to online freedom and packed light for easy travel to France. The journey started, as indeed all journeys should, with a glass of champagne and breakfast at Carluccio’s. I picked up my e-tickets at the machine and the journey went without a hitch – even the guy serving coffee in the buffet was tres jollie!

Gare de Nord was a culture shock but I was too troubled about getting to Gare de Lyon for my connection to care. The cab driver did it in thirteen minutes and soon I was calmly walking down the platform to board the Dijon train to Besancon. Apparently smoking is banned on the platforms in France but hilariously the French completely ignore this. As the train began to pick up speed, I settle into my Dan Brown and promptly fell asleep. Before long I was in Dijon, where most of the train emptied and I am began to get excited about seeing Don and Celine again.

Don is waiting for me on the platform and he hasn’t changed a bit! It was so good to see him and he immediately whisked me off in the car to pick up Celine and the kids and head over to Celine’s mother and Jean-Luc. Celine was the picture of maternity, with a vast belly – she is eight months pregnant - which only enhances her natural Gallic beauty. This is her third baby and I am introduced to Axl aka Johnson, who I have already met and Storm aka Smurf, who I have never met. Each one is the image of their parents! At Jean-Luc’s I sipped the local brew and tried to absorb the culture shock. It all seemed far too easy!