Three busy days in London (Day 2)
I've come to London to see old friends. Everything else is secondary, tagged onto this main purpose. Though I have to say, some of tagged-on bits have been pretty good, even wonderfully memorable. But still not the main pleasure.
I'm fascinated by the importance of long standing friendships. It is interesting that it is so worthwhile spending a lot of time and money to continue them. At one level it's just a simple delight. Anne, Alison and I spent two hours sitting in a cafe in King's Cross station. OK, it was a pleasant enough place, but not somewhere you would particularly choose to spend time. But how lovely it was to sit there laughing, catching up, discussing, arguing, and telling anecdotes of our lives.
The same is true of meeting up with Jan. Jan and I spent the first two hours in just the same way, sitting in a pleasant enough cafe, and then after seeing a play we spent another hour and a half sitting happily chatting some more, even though the second time was in a not very good cafe. The coffee and teacake were OK but the place was unkempt with uncleared, unwiped tables. We had a lovely time.
The play we went to was Julius Caesar at the Bridge theatre. I remember reading reviews of it a while ago but the reviews didn't begin to convey the experience. I had thought it would be good: a little different because Cassius was played by a woman. It was to be played in the round, with some of the audience standing. We sat above the stage. I assumed those people standing would be like promenaders or the groundlings at the Globe. Wrong. Instead we found ourselves, ten minutes before the play was due to start looking down a very loud rock concert audience, buying snacks and little flags to wave, and getting into the music as they clapped their hands above their heads. We in the seats could already see the makings of a mob. And so it went on. That section of the audience became part of the action, part of the Roman mob. I wondered what it was like being there. I'm sorry I didn't ask some of them afterwards as they queued for their coats. I think we were too overwhelmed by the whole thing to think of it.
The whole play was in modern dress so the contemporary resonance was powerful. And it also made it possible for the director to play with gender. Not just Cassius, but half the conspirators were women. Though, interestingly, none of the seriously power-hungry other side were - Caesar, Mark Anthony, Octavius, all men. Hmm.We were conscious that as well as getting absorbed in the action, the the meaning of some of the lines changed, just because of the gender difference. The war chaos at the end also worked well in a modern articulation. The theatre exploded with noise, gunfire, sirens, dust, devastation, searchlights, and all the stuff that can be seen on the news.
I'm fascinated by the importance of long standing friendships. It is interesting that it is so worthwhile spending a lot of time and money to continue them. At one level it's just a simple delight. Anne, Alison and I spent two hours sitting in a cafe in King's Cross station. OK, it was a pleasant enough place, but not somewhere you would particularly choose to spend time. But how lovely it was to sit there laughing, catching up, discussing, arguing, and telling anecdotes of our lives.The same is true of meeting up with Jan. Jan and I spent the first two hours in just the same way, sitting in a pleasant enough cafe, and then after seeing a play we spent another hour and a half sitting happily chatting some more, even though the second time was in a not very good cafe. The coffee and teacake were OK but the place was unkempt with uncleared, unwiped tables. We had a lovely time.
The play we went to was Julius Caesar at the Bridge theatre. I remember reading reviews of it a while ago but the reviews didn't begin to convey the experience. I had thought it would be good: a little different because Cassius was played by a woman. It was to be played in the round, with some of the audience standing. We sat above the stage. I assumed those people standing would be like promenaders or the groundlings at the Globe. Wrong. Instead we found ourselves, ten minutes before the play was due to start looking down a very loud rock concert audience, buying snacks and little flags to wave, and getting into the music as they clapped their hands above their heads. We in the seats could already see the makings of a mob. And so it went on. That section of the audience became part of the action, part of the Roman mob. I wondered what it was like being there. I'm sorry I didn't ask some of them afterwards as they queued for their coats. I think we were too overwhelmed by the whole thing to think of it. 
The whole play was in modern dress so the contemporary resonance was powerful. And it also made it possible for the director to play with gender. Not just Cassius, but half the conspirators were women. Though, interestingly, none of the seriously power-hungry other side were - Caesar, Mark Anthony, Octavius, all men. Hmm.We were conscious that as well as getting absorbed in the action, the the meaning of some of the lines changed, just because of the gender difference. The war chaos at the end also worked well in a modern articulation. The theatre exploded with noise, gunfire, sirens, dust, devastation, searchlights, and all the stuff that can be seen on the news.
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