Sunday, 02 November 2008

• Basking in the glow of theatre

  I used to work hard and think hard, and never tire; now, I neither do anything nor think anything, and I am weary, body and soul.
  - Ivanov

  ***

  After a few months of theatre drought (and drought of most other exciting cultural events), I'm pretty spoiled in that area at the moment. Last weekend I saw Tom Stoppard's translation of Ivanov, part of the Donmar in the West End series, which was hugely enjoyable, mostly for its crackling pace and wit. At times it became farcical, but in an excellently handled way.
  

  This isn't to say that there was none of the inevitable Chekhovian sense of futility and despair that tends to preoccupy his characters (and which, I have to say, is one of the reasons why I have a soft spot for Chekhov) - in fact, comedy and tragedy seemed to be balanced very well. However, like London Theatregoer I did find myself, at times, wondering exactly why Ivanov was the way he was. He told us, but I found it hard to accept just from telling and not showing (although, because I was enjoying the play so much, I did manage to push this to the back of my mind).
  

  ***

  This weekend I made a swift trip to Bristol to see Filter's version of Twelfth Night, which is one of my favourite Shakespeare plays. It was generally an energetic and enjoyable production. I admired their use of multimedia and high-tech gadgets (as I did with Water), and the fact that they played their own live music, which reminded me of Kneehigh at times.
  

  They played up the drinking/partying scenes with Sir Andrew and Sir Toby, even dragging several audience members on stage to join in, and playing Butt Head between themselves and the audience (had no idea what that game was actually called until I Googled 'velcro hat balls'). I hadn't expected such a lot of audience involvement (although I suppose the quite casual and open-plan layout of the Tobacco Factory encourages it), and felt a tad exposed as they didn't turn the lights off above the seating at all. Ferdy Roberts was excellent as Malvolio, embodying firstly his puritanism and, even more so, his, er, pleasure when he believes that Olivia is in love with him (the yellow stockings were joined by yellow hotpants and nothing else). The rest of the cast were fantastic, too. The only problem was that, although I enjoyed the messiness and raucousness of it all to an extent, the story sometimes felt somewhat muddled and unclear; especially at the beginning, and towards the end, as Viola and Sebastian were played by one actor.
  

  I've also just booked tickets to see Love's Labour's Lost this week (which has had rave reviews), and am looking forward to Creditors next weekend (ditto). I'd also like to see Othello, but don't know if I'll manage to fit it in.

  ***

  Finally, I was quite excited when I read that the British Library have released some new CDs of (mostly) dead writers talking (when they were alive, of course).
  

  Currently Reading The Master By Colm Toibin see related

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