Northanger Dulwich

 A day after the visit to the Orange Theatre, we went to Dulwich Picture Gallery, to watch an evening performance in the grounds.

Northanger Abbey, or a version of it at least, was performed by the Moving Parts Theatre Company.  A small cast of seven, using a simple boxy but versatile stage setting, did brilliantly - they conveyed the story well, and were very funny.  

They also reached out, in the script, to other material - not just the gothic novels Austen was satirising and supporting, but also Regency guides to manners, and what was expected of young women.  

It worked well.  The cast also helped the audience to their seats, and ensured they were comfy - gave out the QR codes for the programme (!) and generally chatted.  Many of the actors also wrote or produced the piece - it is a small company.

Anyway, we enjoyed it very much indeed - and it was something of a relief after Black Comedy to have such a joyful experience.

Black Comedy

 And so to the Orange Tree Theatre in Richmond, to see Peter Shaffer's Black Comedy.

We were quite keen to see this.  It is an early Shaffer, a farcical comedy with a clever conceit. 

When the light is on in the flat where all the action takes place, the auditorium is plunged into darkness.  But when the lights in the flat fail, the stage is lit, and the audience can see the characters difficulties, fumbling in the dark.

It could have been very good.  But, sadly, the production proceeded at a continuous loud bellow.  There were no moments of quiet, or calm to accentuate the comedy.  Instead, it was just loud and raucous through pretty much the whole 80-90 minutes.

Disappointing.

Although admittedly, the Guardian liked it.

Urinal

We forgot to post about one of the more enjoyable things we have seen this year - Churchill's Urinal at the King's Head theatre in Islington.

It starred comedian Rosie Holt, whom we remember from her clever and funny short videos during the pandemic,  playing a put upon Tory MP trying to justify the behaviour of Boris Johnson's inept government. 

In this new show, she plays the first female Chancellor of the Exchequer (not Rachel Reeves), who discovers that the bathroom at no 11 downing street contains an ancient urinal installed for Chruchill.

She is desperate to get rid of it, but it is listed.  What to do?

Full of wit and physical comedy, with a lot of audience reaction, we laughed enormously. Holt was ably supported by Michael Lambourne (playing the urinal - which, yes, talks).

If it comes on again, we highly recommend it.  The script is tight, funny and viciously political (apparently the comedian Stewart Lee assisted with it), and the production well organised and structured.

Our small only reservation was the theatre itself - which is no longer in the back of a pub, but in a new, purpose-built building, and three floors underground.  Not for those with claustrophobia!

Authentic

 A couple of months ago, we also went to see The Authenticator at the National Theatre (Dorfman stage).

This had echoes of some of the themes of Arcadia - such as: How can you discover the truth abou the past, and indeed what does that mean?  How are History and the personal intertwined? And what uses do we make of what we discover?

But it was a very different play as well, focusing on black history, and slavery and the legacies of colonialism.  A tight three-hander, with Sylvestre le Touzel, Rakie Ayla and Cherrelle Skeete.

This was very good, and much supported by a clever production and surprising, adaptable set.

So it Goes...

 Yesterday, to Southwark Theatre Borough for Slaughterhouse V. A very clever production, telling the fragmented, time-mangled story with stunning clarity and wit, while capturing the enormity of the Dresden firestorm.

It is only on until 4th July. But there may be tickets left. It wasn't (quite) full yesterday...

So it goes...

Bayeaux

 This morning at 10, non-member tickets for the Bayeaux Tapestry at the British Museum became available.
A little later:

Arcadia

 Arcadia at the Old Vic was very good. 

In many ways a companion piece to Stoppard's Indian Ink, with its parallel stories of modern-day literary researchers and the lived lives in the past (which they misunderstand).  

But whereas the earlier play used art and literature as its ostensible subject, in Arcadia there is a rich discussion of mathematics and chaos theory.

We enjoyed this muchly.  A strong production, with a lot to untangle (and some good jokes).

Into The Woods

 We really like the Bridge Theatre.  It's where we saw the wonderful gender-switching A Midsummer Night's Dream last year, and the space is welcoming and flexible.

So we went to see Stephen Sondheim's Into the Woods at the Bridge with high hopes.

The sets were very good, and the cast were great (and the production has won several awards, not least Best Musical Revival at this year's Oliviers). 

But... we were disappointed.  

I think we found the music a little same-y, and the plot over long.  It could have been trimmed.  

It was definitely the piece itself, rather than the production.

This may all sound heretical.  

But there you go.

Indian Ink

 So we went to see Tom Stoppard's Indian Ink. 

In the first ever production of the play, Felicity Kendal had played the young poet, Flora Crew, travelling around India.

At the age of 79, she was also in the production we saw at the Hampstead Theatre, playing Flora's elderly sister, Eleanor Swan, remembering Flora in the past.  

We enjoyed this immensely; the play was full of typically Stoppardian musing, and the cast were very strong.  This time, Flora was played by Ruby Ashbourne Serkis (Gollum's daughter).  

Some of us were a critical of Stoppard's picture of India from the standpoint of a white Englishman (although Stoppard did spend some time at boarding school in Darjeeling, that probably didn't provide much real insight).  However, others thought he got away with it via the character of Eldon Pike - the American academic who is trying to publish Flora's Collected Letters.  He misunderstands and makes assumption about her life - and Stoppard uses him to recognise the likely errors in his own presentation, (or so some of us thought).

At one point, Flora mentions pouring a jug of water on the critic JC Squire's head, after he panned her poetry.  Squire is a name we know from his book of essays "If it had Happened Otherwise" (1931) which have been considered proto-alternative histories.  According to Wikipedia, he moved further and further to the right through his life.  Despised by most of the Bloomsbury set, he eventually became associated with Moseley.

Meanwhile the Rajah mentions 'Bendor Westminster' - the Duke of Westminster and one of the many Grosvenors, who for a long time have used the name Bendor.  And it seems Chaucer, years ago, had a hand in that.  But that is for another time...

But those two small instances only reinforce the complex series of references and allusions in the play. 

Very good.

Gilbert and Sullivan Goes Wrong.

 So to the ENO for Pinafore last February.  A warship of a show, hard to mess up. 

But for us, they kinda managed to.

Mel Giedroyc - who we at the Trees normally like, as a rule - was a 'special guest star', and she kept on popping up as a meta-guest, who was chaotically interfering with a show of the Pinafore.  Rather like a second rate version of The Play That Goes Wrong - where the play is a G&S performance.  Her style of clowning clashed with much of the rest of the comedy in the show, and the whole thing was rather scrappy.

Disappointing.

More Shows

So we booked four shows.

Indian Ink in Hampstead

HMS Pinafore at the ENO

Into the Woods at the Bridge theatre

Arcadia at the Old Vic.

...results were mixed...

Biggles, Tim and Pru

 Back in 2013, there was a Guardian cryptic crossword set by Biggles.  Who was so called because he was actually a team of four setters, all called John (including John Halpern - Paul - and John Graham - the late and much missed Araucaria).

At one point that year, Biggles set a crossword whose solutions were a 50th wedding anniversary celebration gift to Timothy West and Prunella Scales.  Both of them were keen cruciverbalists, and I remember it being a tough solve.

A few days later I was on one of the long escalators leading up from the tube at Euston station, when I realised that Tim and Pru were behind me.  I had to turn and congratulate them, and say how much I enjoyed 'their' crossword.

I think they were quite pleased.  But I do remember afterwards thinking they might have been more chuffed if I'd praised them for their theatrical achievements!

Anyway, John Graham passed several years ago, and Tim West more recently.  And now Pru has gone as well.

RIP Prunella Scales.

Trees on Tour: Around Trafalgar Square

A couple of months ago...

 

The Summer Beehive Cluster

 

Dear England

 

So, in the wake of the Lionesses' victory at the Euros, a brief reflection on Dear England at the National.
As you can perhaps see, the stage set was stark, and effective.  
The play was fine, with wit and humour. It was mostly about Gareth Southgate and his humanising of the role.  And it worked well, when talking about the old English fear and failure at penalties.

But, I can't help but think the large number of men in England shirts sitting in the row in fron to me were hoping for aa show about football.  And the glories of England...

Oh, well.

Twenty Years Ago

Twenty years ago today, I was in my office at the British Museum, which looked out over Russell Square. I have a vague memory of a large bang being heard – but if anything, I assumed it was just one of the many noises you get around central London.

Then, about twenty or so minutes later, one of my team came up to see me – they said that a colleague had just arrived in some shock. He said he’d just seen a bus explode. That must have been the bomb in Tavistock Square, although we didn’t know that at the time. And I believe we may have heard it go off, unknowingly.

In fact we weren’t sure what he’d seen. I made suggestions to help get him looked after, and said he could consider going home and resting.

The traffic began to ease off, outside, and we began to hear sirens. The story circulated that there were problems on the tube lines (power failures).

About an hour or so in, one of the Security team arrived to tell everyone to move away from the windows. Yes, there had been a bomb, and a follow-up attack could shatter the glass dangerously.

By now, apart from distant sirens, it was unsettlingly quiet outside. And our mobile phones had stopped working. The rumour started that the emergency services had commandeered the network, although it might have just been overload.

Around lunchtime, I was called across the estate to a senior managers’ meeting. Yes, there had been a number of bombs, and and many casualties. There was a need to keep people inside while the emergency services worked. Then, mid-afternoon, we would all be needed to help the visitors leave and give them directions. This was mid-summer, and there were 15-18,000 visitors on site, many from overseas. We needed to help them understand how to get home, or to their hotels, in the absence of any public transport.

(During the briefing, I finally received a call from my son at school (they had sensibly let the children use their mobiles) – so I could tell him I was OK, and he could pass the message on to the rest of the family).

Once the Museum was empty, we left, too. I remember walking with others through an eerily quiet city. Finally managing to grab a bus home near Elephant and Castle.

The Mayor, Ken Livingstone, was on the news. He was in Singapore – the day before, he had been celebrating London winning the right to host the 2012 Olympics. He looked tired, but he gave the best speech of his life.

I want to say one thing specifically to the world today. This was not a terrorist attack against the mighty and the powerful. It was not aimed at Presidents or Prime Ministers. It was aimed at ordinary, working-class Londoners, black and white, Muslim and Christian, Hindu and Jew, young and old. It was an indiscriminate attempt to slaughter, irrespective of any considerations for age, for class, for religion, or whatever...

Londoners will not be divided by this cowardly attack. They will stand together in solidarity alongside those who have been injured and those who have been bereaved and that is why I'm proud to be the mayor of that city.

Yet there was an increase in racist attacks over the following days.

The next day, I think it was, I was on the bus to work, and the atmosphere was very jittery. Years later, I had a letter published in the Guardian about how the marvellous Betty Boothroyd stood up then, and helped everyone stay calm. (This was written a few days after the Manchester Arena bombing).

A week later, several other attacks were attempted, and failed, more by chance than effective security.

Vetinari at the National Gallery...

 He is in disguise as Don Justino de Neve. 1665. By Bartolome Esteban Murillo.

Massed Capital Marches on London

 

Alexandra Palace...

 

Morning Queue...

 This is the morning queue to get into the British Library.  Some people are keen to get the best desks!