Was not this love indeed?

I'm back from the RSC costume sale with an armload of shiny Things for the adornment of myself and friends. It was great fun, and I ran into the lovely lorralie whom I'd met at the ENO sale, and met her partner dr_locrian and nineveh_uk. It's a small world, but it seems cyberspace is even smaller.

While in Stratford, I saw the RSC's new Twelfth Night. I went in with jaded expectations, since this play is so often done, but no: it was fresh and beautiful, with extra gender-bending: Viola is played by a man; Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Fabian by women. All of which speaks to something I believe deeply: that an actor is an actor, no matter the gender. (And that in Shakespeare, women shouldn't be denied all the good parts.)

John Lithgow (of Third Rock From The Sun fame) is a FANTASTIC Malvolio, and he proves the glorious exception to the general rule that British and American actors can't do each other's accents. Other standouts are James Clyde as a skulkingly louche Feste and Justine Mitchell as Olivia, in a jet-beaded polonaise that would make pvcdiva flip over backwards. Kudos, too, to composer Simon Deacon for some ace music. The whole thing is sort of Edwardian-country-house, but there's no set except a grand piano and some large standing mirrors-- which sounds incredibly RSC and pretentious, but in this case it actually works.

The only thing that grated on me slightly was some loose memorisation resulting in a few line-misreadings. Otherwise, this is a Twelfth Night worth seeing.

Meanwhile, I'm plotting and planning:
The Ring at Covent Garden. Musssst sssseeee the Preciousssss!
Pink Martini at the Hammersmith Apollo, Sat 10 Nov: anyone want to go?
Lastly, something fracture_242 and I were discussing: if a small, relaxed Halloween party were held at my place on the evening of the 31st, would this be a Good Thing?

Was not this love indeed?

I'm back from the RSC costume sale with an armload of shiny Things for the adornment of myself and friends. It was great fun, and I ran into the lovely lorralie whom I'd met at the ENO sale, and met her partner dr_locrian and nineveh_uk. It's a small world, but it seems cyberspace is even smaller.

While in Stratford, I saw the RSC's new Twelfth Night. I went in with jaded expectations, since this play is so often done, but no: it was fresh and beautiful, with extra gender-bending: Viola is played by a man; Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Fabian by women. All of which speaks to something I believe deeply: that an actor is an actor, no matter the gender. (And that in Shakespeare, women shouldn't be denied all the good parts.)

John Lithgow (of Third Rock From The Sun fame) is a FANTASTIC Malvolio, and he proves the glorious exception to the general rule that British and American actors can't do each other's accents. Other standouts are James Clyde as a skulkingly louche Feste and Justine Mitchell as Olivia, in a jet-beaded polonaise that would make pvcdiva flip over backwards. Kudos, too, to composer Simon Deacon for some ace music. The whole thing is sort of Edwardian-country-house, but there's no set except a grand piano and some large standing mirrors-- which sounds incredibly RSC and pretentious, but in this case it actually works.

The only thing that grated on me slightly was some loose memorisation resulting in a few line-misreadings. Otherwise, this is a Twelfth Night worth seeing.

Meanwhile, I'm plotting and planning:
The Ring at Covent Garden. Musssst sssseeee the Preciousssss!
Pink Martini at the Hammersmith Apollo, Sat 10 Nov: anyone want to go?
Lastly, something fracture_242 and I were discussing: if a small, relaxed Halloween party were held at my place on the evening of the 31st, would this be a Good Thing?