Today was glorious! Another five minute shower halfway through the day [the rain, mine was probably more like seven], which stopped in time for another day of walking all about. Yesterday was South Bank/Westminster, today was Covent Garden/Leicester Square.
It was lovely weather and the whole day smelled like after-rain, which is the best. Despite the fact that my heel has felt, ultimately, broken in half since my arrival [a sign, obviously, of having gone far too long without walking this much...garsh I've missed city life] I walked to Covent Garden. Took a stroll around the piazza and the market, some girl was doing a piece on fashion in the area and took my photo: Here's hoping that a) it's a compliment and b) my flippidydoodle of a 'who me' head turn looks less than wonky. Considered cupcakes, decided cupcakes are more suited for a time when I have the ability to use an ATM.
always something exciting at covent garden.
Next on the list: Class items, as we are at the three-days-til-class-starts point. Of course, I'm sure I could have just bought some cheap-o A4 lined yellow pad of paper much like I'd been using all summer [ahh, the birth of Sadguy, Steven, and Mr Scribblehead...] butttt, and that is one drawn out butt, I've been missing my ever-favourite art supply store, and scooted my butt into the London Graphic Centre. Brand new sketchpad/notebook, lots of new pencils: mechanical, a stage manager's ideal. All for under £6, lovely stuff.
another obligatory pose-with-the-item-i-got photo! lovely, lovely stuff.
After: Book! I officially gave up on Michael Chabon a while back, after trying and failing at two of his novels, and I have since been novelless. Spied a trendylilshit like me on the Tube yest'day reading a book by, oh, who? No one but Stephen Fry, one of my all-time heeeerooooze. The man's amazing at speaking, I'd imagine he's great at writing, so I scooted my bum, again, into Waterstones by Leicester Square. Turns out, he's got quite a selection of fiction! I selected The Stars' Tennis Balls, am one chapter in, and am already in love. Good choice, well done, me!
Food: I'd had none all day and it was 4:30, this is a true story. I've been back on the apples and Tracker bars diet I'd adapted around the time of BritRail travel last year. I've been in England since Thursday morning - It was time for the pub. So where else to go, but the first pub I'd ever been to and to the day, one of my favourites: The Plough. After waiting for what seemed like forever to me and everybody else in the world for this foreign woman and her two rowdy foreign childen to place an obscenely complicated order, I placed mine: 'Burger and a pint of Strongbow, please.' Yeah, well. Sat upstairs, reading reading reading, and drinking drinking drinking, and loving loving loving life!
You know, there just...really isn't anything else in the world like sitting in a cozy pub with a nice cold pint and reading a really rich book. Nothing like it.
Finally, after that, it was just about time to hit the theatre! Patrick caught me as I was running out and I realised how much it made me smile when I got asked, 'Going to the theatre, Kristin?' Where else, World, where else?
The National Theatre has only ever failed me once [hilariously enough, they referenced that show in this show! HA!] This was definitely not that time.
England People Very Nice was a journey to experience and, as the NT never ceases to bring me, it was definitely an artistic and technical masterpiece. Yes, my friends, there was PROJECTION. Not only that, though, and I've only seen this done one other time [Disappearing Number last year at the Barbican] - They used animation, but it wasn't used as a background, it just...added to it. The set created a world, and then the animation brought it to life, while also adding humour, while also making me bounce in my seat. This not only had aesthetic purpose, as in DN, but practicality as well. + it was very Monty Python meets Don Hertzfeldt. I like it. That alone made the show fantastic, but oh, so much more!
First of all, silly things like the fact that two actors...have been on Doctor Who, naturally. One was Martha Jones's father and the other was one of the Slitheen in season 1...the one in charge in 'Aliens of London/WWIII.' Hell yeah.
Needless to say, all the other actors were equally incredible. It was quite the ensemble production with each actor playing multiple roles, some needing to be different while retaining certain qualities. PLUS adding in the show-within-a-show aspect.
EPVN is a history of immigration in England, starting from the very beginning how the country started, and moving forth, basically showing that they started from inter-cultural/inter-racial marriage/breeding, and that even though the current people throughout the centuries have complained and often retaliated when newcomers came, they all ended up developing the country further - The people today are made up of newcomers from the past. It was hilarious, and it was sad, and it was moving, and it was mostly hilarious.
Only thing that bugged me was, once again, the whole American thing. Americans were never shown, just mentioned for the following reasons: when they were attacked and we didn't come in to help til the last minute, when we were attacked, the whole wanting-to-go-to-New-York fiasco, and because our culture, our media, our et ceteras are picked up and sucked on by the children of other countries. So we were basically referenced as this ghost looming somewhere across the sea, there to envy and there to blame. Not that I necessarily disagree with most of it, and not that it makes me angry: We are what we are. What made me angry about it is Where are the American immigrants? What about me? Sure, my country isn't in a civil war, I don't have to go through what billions of people around the world have gone through, and yeah, I'm grateful as all heck, but you know...I don't remember a day in my life that I didn't want to live in England. There are three things I always, always have wanted as far back as I can remember: To fall in love and be loved madly in return, To be disgustingly admired for my art whatever it may be, and To live in England, to call this place Home. Sure, I call it home, but when I go through the airport, I'm an immigrant, too.
Moments during that show were awkward.
BUT I freaking loved the references I got. Best moment: When the line '...but do I have to dress like Noel Coward?' was spoken and the entire audience roared with laughter. Try to tell me you'd see that in any other place!
I love this city, I love the National Theatre, and I love the way it always re-ignites my passion for Theatre whenever I feel a hint of doubt. Forget that paragraph of sadness, this was an amazing day! Nuff said!
And if you haven't figured it out yet, the subject header is from the show: The repeated atheistic character seemed to be this Voice of Reason and they always said the line 'This is the only paradise we will ever know' and the response was always 'What, Bethnal Green?' which was obviously where the play was set. Aha, and there we go.
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