Monday 5 January 2015

Reading: Winter's Tales

Well, here I am again, back in the Big Smoke! And back to a gruelling schedule - of which more anon. Anyway, tonight's destination was the Wanamaker Playhouse, for the last night of Winter's Tales, which featured a famous actor reading short stories by a famous author, by candlelight. I didn't recognise tonight's actor, who's worked mainly on stage, it seems - but the author was Daphne du Maurier, including her story The Birds, on which the Hitchcock film was based. Enough to get me in the door - but the venue was enough to do that! I'd never been before, and was dying to go.

It's on the same site as the Globe Theatre, and named for the fella that founded them both. Entrance is across the lobby from the entrance to the Globe, so I knew pretty well where I was going. And this venue is one of those that takes longer than you'd think to get to. I know the way, but checked Google maps for the time it would take, and Google Maps actually thought it would take even longer! They had me getting off the Tube at Blackfriars and taking either a boat or bus the rest of the way! Now, I know very well it's quicker to go one stop further on, to Mansion House, and cross the bridge on foot - which I learned from Google Maps, and which I reminded them of. Not that it'll do any good, I'm sure.

Anyway, I left in good time, catching the Tube at West Brompton. The indicator board said the next train wasn't heading my way - but it was lying, as usual, which was handy. And I disembarked at Mansion House, and made the venue with five minutes to spare. Just nice timing. Mind you, as I entered, and took note of where exactly I was going, I was glad I'd booked a seat on the ground floor (the "pit") and didn't have stairs to climb - just so I didn't feel so rushed. The entrance to the pit is just to your left as you enter by the modern door of the Globe complex.

The pit is split on either side of the entrance passageway, and consists of four rows of cushioned, but backless, benches. I'm used to backless benches from the Globe, so that was ok. I discovered that my seat (C8) was right at the end, beside the wood panels that line the passageway, which, at that row, were at such a height that I could rest my elbow on top - which was handy, on occasion. Also, the row curved slightly just there, which gave me a bit of extra room to turn sideways - which was also handy, as the legroom was just a little cramped.

O my, this building is breathtaking! I'm just sorry I couldn't take a photo - I'd been sternly admonished on my way in that photography was STRICTLY prohibited, and there was an usher right in front of me, faced my way. You'll just have to look for some online. I was struck, from the moment I entered, by the fact that everything in there was really made of wood! Well, apart from the cushions, the screws and hinges holding it together, and the candle holders. Yes, you might wonder at the wisdom of having a candlelit event in a wooden building! But the side candles were held in metal sconces, secured to the supporting (wooden) columns by leather straps, and the chandeliers, which also held candles, were iron, by the look of them.

The backdrop to the stage is fabulously ornate, and the whole place, built of a light-coloured wood, looks gorgeous! Especially by candlelight - which was augmented by some soft yellow spotlights in the ceiling. I had time to settle myself nicely, and take out the small bottle of water I'd brought as a precaution, as the damp climate of Ireland has meant I've come back with a slight cough after Christmas. You are allowed to bring drinks in here, as long as they're not in glass containers, and as long as you don't bring food. With the person in front of me not utilising the corner of her bench, I perched it there. And as I waited, the room filled up - I do believe it was sold out.

The stage housed two chairs - a small table beside one, with a carafe and glass of water, and a music stand in front of the other. And in due course, the performers appeared. As well as the lady who was to do the reading, there was a lady who, it turned out, was to play a bit on the violin before and after each story.

As the actor embarked on her excellent reading of the first story, it suddenly struck me that what it most reminded me of was of elocution classes when I was a kid. Or, indeed, exams. Indeed, Daphne du Maurier was one of the writers we recited. How many times did I stand, like that - and I noticed that she was standing the way I'd been taught to stand, with one foot (the right) slightly in front of the other to provide a means of balance - reading text from a folder in my hands, just like that? Not that her elocution was perfect! :-) But the reading was terrific. The first story was The Happy Valley, which I hadn't heard of before, and the second The Birds. And, with musical accompaniment, that was it. Mind you, that was an hour's worth, which is standard for a one-person show. And it never before occurred to me how ominous her stories are! but we only read excerpts in elocution.

My cough behaved itself for The Happy Valley, and I thought I'd gotten away with it. And then I had an exploratory cough while the audience applauded, and that must've woken up my chest, because I found myself desperately trying to stifle a cough during The Birds, of all things! Well, bringing that bottle of water was an act of genius. It's really the only thing to stifle a cough - if it can be stifled. After a tense 10 minutes or so of sipping water constantly every few seconds, then at progressively longer intervals, it subsided for the rest of the show. And I was able to have a proper cough when I got back outside. I'd considered crying off this show because of that cough - I'm so glad I didn't! This was a terrific way to get back into London life. It's just such a pity I missed the other shows in this series. It's so slow-paced, it's a great change from the hustle and bustle of the city.

So, I was finished nice n early, and got a nice shot of St Paul's on the way back to the station. My phone camera does get dazzled by lights, though.. you have to look under the light, to the left:



Mind, I'd have been home earlier if the Tube hadn't decided to take all night. You know, it's interesting - I need a Wimbledon-bound train to get home, but never have I seen one East of Temple! I think some of them must change their destination at some point, and that all Wimbledon-bound trains start off with other destinations. After waiting quite a while, I decided I'd better at least get one that was going to Earl's Court, from where I could walk, if I had to. After a delay of nearly 10 minutes at Gloucester Road, and yet another delay between that and Earl's Court, we finally chugged into the station. Where I had another wait for my Wimbledon train - but it was faster than walking.

Well! After quite a busy Christmas, I had a couple of days free at the end, which I used to, eh, fill up my diary. :-) So, here's what I'm doing for the next week:

Tomorrow: Fascinating Aida at the Queen Elizabeth Hall. I love this act - have seen them on television before, but never live.

Wednesday: a debate on climate change, at King's College. Has the advantage of being free, but you need to book.

Thursday: the ballet of Don Quixote, at the Royal Opera House. Which, you'll remember, is the home of the Royal Ballet. I missed a Time Out offer on this, sadly. Didn't go for the cheapest seats available, but rather for the next price bracket up, which is several rows further forward - I just didn't like the view from the cheaper ones. (The Opera House website is unique in showing a photo of the view from every single seat in the place.)

Friday: a play called 3 Winters, at the National. It's set over three winters, at different periods during the last 100 years, in Croatia.

Saturday: I wanted to go to La SoirĂ©e, but only posh seats were left, so I skipped it. Instead, I'm going to a concert by the Pink Singers - Europe's longest standing LGBT choir. In Cadogan Hall.

Sunday: the last night of Potted Sherlock - all the Sherlock Holmes stories condensed into 80 minutes. In the Vaudeville Theatre. This is the only one of all these shows I got a deal for - I knocked a few quid off with lovetheatre.com.

Monday: The RSC production of Henry IV Part I, in the Barbican.

Tuesday: the opera Orfeo, at the Roundhouse. With Helen.

Think that's enough to be going along with..!

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