There, I just lost three drops of my heart's blood.
An amazing Friday and Saturday, I've been out and about exploring, really getting into my blood the shape of the city (drat, hope none of the three drops held
that knowledge!), metaphorically stumbling and popping right back up, seeing shows and soaking in.
As mentioned in earlier entries, I've been toying with and rejecting the idea of daily itineraries for when I explore. I think this plan served me well these first few days: "haphazard" allowed me to get comfortable with finding my way about. I now may (
may) try a (still loose) system: specifically, if I need to be in a part of the city for a specific reason I will plan ahead and then explore other sites in the same, rather than hopping about. I likely would have done so originally, but needing the first few days to accomplish tasks at opposite ends hindered such. Two other reasons, too. Accounting for yesterday and today, and because I am so far nervous about being out too late at night, the shows I watched were matinees, which limited daytime exploration. I think I'll overcome this trepidition this week (even though there are lots of siren noises from out my window once the sun sets and finding my way home will inevitably involve dark alleys). Accounting for generally, an attempt to save money. I chose to stay at Lee Abbey because it includes some meals, and dinner begins at six. If I were to attend an evening show, unless the tube is really quick and I don't get lost, I likely wouldn't be able to partake of the meal I've already paid for. But I think I might either skip dinner some nights or just eat out, and of course I
may be able to eat here and make a show on time (I should time myself one night soon as an experiment). I do wish to have more daytime to explore.
Which touches on one concern: how much of the city I'll really get to know while I'm here. London is so sprawling and has so many overlapping layers of history, the idea of trying to get to know it all is daunting. Then again, I've done well for five days of exploration, and I know I'll be something more than just a tourist by the time I leave. (One difficulty I've found is I know in seeking out one site I've passed other important sites only I don't recognize them as such, i.e., I'm fairly certain when I found the Globe that across the Thames were the Houses of Parliament, but I'm not sure which building or buildings housed the Houses.)
I'm going to "chunk" certain aspects of my adventures, perhaps daily, for my own benefit, as I consider this journal both private and public, and will peruse it later in life (saving and printing when it's "done"). This way too readers can skip over the stuff they don't find interesting. The format of what follows may change with time, but here goes,
PLAYS & PROJECT
*Archives
The British Library looks like it will be a very useful resource. It is quite large and has endless documents and recordings and is, of course, free to use. On my first venture alone, however, I did run across the problem of the text I'd requested not being useful - it was, rather than a reprint of documents (letters to and from and about Henry Irving and Ellen Terry and the like), a reference to those documents as they exist in microfilm, and the microfilm is only available at the Shakespeare Centre in Stratford-upon-Avon. It was a scratch attempt, though. My plan now is to request several texts at a time, to, for example, attempt 1 1/2 tasks while there in the hope of getting 1 done.
*The Globe, William Shakespeare's King Lear (from Friday, 27 June).
Overall a wonderful production, I was truly delighted. David Calder was powerful in the title role, handling the verse with aplomp and descending into infant like innocence and madness with disconcerting ease. Sally Breton's Goneril was frightening and surprisingly sympathetic. As Regan, Kelly Bright's most powerful moment was the blinding of Gloucester (more shortly). Another notable performance was Jonothan Bensom's Kent. He played both Kent and Kent in disguise with an unexpected, underlying integrity of character while believably distinguishing the two "roles." The only thoroughly disappointing performance (granted, on first viewing) was Joseph Mydell's Gloucester. He seemed to speak the verse and speak the verse only. Never did the world he was in or the events occuring register in his eyes, from what I saw. This lack was a shame: so much of the power of Lear hinges on the moment, near the end, when he and Lear meet again. His blinding was powerful only because it was gruesome: Bright literally mounted him and the act was portrayed quite sexually. And when he fell, from "the cliffs of Dover," I neither laughed nor was moved; rather, I winced because the moment was wastefully lost. What I found most intriguing at my first "Globe experience" was the use of stage space. The whole of it - boards, balcony and house - was used. The hunting grounds was somewhere outside the theatre, near where the Thames "would be"; the tiring house was the rest of Lear's castle, Gloucester's home, and so many other sites (the balcony often a part); the yard (where I stood) was the valley the madmen cowered in (one nearly tripped me while scurrying along the ground). Costumes (wonderful costumes) also quickly established status, setting and time. The music (live) was lovely and often shifted tone and "masked" the few slightly complex set changes. Unfortunately - very - I could catch no cuts or transpositions. Granted, Lear is the "Mount Everest" of Shakespeare, but I thought I'd catch a few. I thought the Gloucester subplot had been cut substantially in the "second half" (after his blinding) but I confirmed later, and no (perhaps my disappointment with its execution led me to this belief). The production seemed to follow the standard conflation of quarto and folio. What I did find interesting about the text was the rapidity of its execution. Though it must be noted that Shakespearean scene changes are imposed by later editors, the rapid pacing often undermined the power of key moments. Edmund's soliloqy on nature and bastardy followed the scene previous so quickly, and was executed the same, that its weight was hardly felt. Another interesting aspect of text, its "indication" (I had thought once of focussing on this aspect of illuminating text): Calder, especially, often brought the text to vivid life with his movements. The burgamesque dance at the end was moving and fun: actors brought other ("dead") actors back to life with a touch, notably Goneral and Regan with Cordelia, then Cordelia with Lear, and then the audience clapped in beat as they delighted us and thanked our patronage. Distractions? A few: helicopters flew above; a group of schoolchildren seated stage right kept giggling at a pigeon; a woman in the yard (quite near me) fainted and had to be helped out in a wheelchair. But I suspect these come with a Globe performance, and, as I said, overall a wonderful production. In some ways, miraculous.
*The Olivier, George Bernard Shaw's Major Barbara (from today).
I will write about this production shortly (it's getting late and, anyway, I think with most productions I'll generally need a day or two to - begin to - process what I see). In short, in all ways, miraculous, simply sublime.
*Difficulties
I have had a few. One is the procurement of tickets. I had wished and had been advised to purchase as many tickets as possible before departure, but could find no way to utilize a student discount online (and such can save many pounds). These past few days my travels have largely involved trying to track down and buy tickets to shows that will be closing shortly or have a short run time. Buying tickets online here still negates the student discount, and apparently not all box offices are open during the daytime (especially off West End or fringe; I discovered this today when I tracked down the Bridewell Theatre). And so many productions have overlapping schedules. I think a good plan will be to "map" a schedule of the shows and track down say one theatre per day (after I discover box office hours) and buy ahead when possible. I also think venturing out more at night will alleviate this difficulty.
Okay, I'm about pooped for today, so no other "chunks" of adventures, though possible headings include: PEOPLE PEEPING (where I'll discuss observations from a distance and close-up); BELLY GRUMBLES (where I'll list food eaten, a description, and prices where applicable, largely for my own future ruminations); TRANSIT TERRORS (a self-explanatory though tongue-in-cheek heading); SITES AND SCENES (where I'll discuss museums, parks and the like); and COMING ATTRACTIONS (or what's on the agenda). Most such entries will be brief, but I like this manner of reflection, and the more in the habit I am of doing so the less time it takes to execute (the only argument against it).
But wait, one more,
PICS
Images from the National - a statue of Sir Laurence Olivier, a measure of the building itself, and my ticket/ program. (The programs here - at least at the National - are very posh and, especially, informative, with several interesting essays, and rehearsal photographs to boot. I'd settled on not buying them - you must buy them, at all theatres, here - to save pounds, just using the ticket stubs as souvenirs, but I may, I just may, allow myself to buy the programs.)
British coins - I love 'em! I plan on bringing back one of each and may stuff them in a small pouch and use it as an actor's trick to get in character for some roles down the road, as a physical "image." Clockwise, starting at midnight: 1£, 50p, 20p, 10p, 5p, 2p, 1p, and 2£ (it trips me up that the "dime" is smaller than the "nickel." Click on the pic for a larger image!
(**Later note: my timidity about after dark explorations, obviously, arose from the fact that I'd be hoofing around alone. Reading Elizabeth's blog, and seeing all the beautiful night time photos, has infused me with greater inspiration.)
