Marianela Nunez and Thiago Soaresin in Romeo and Juliet. Photo by Dee Conway
January's cultural opening start properly this week, with ballet, Damien Hirst, Quentin Blake and more. Here are the highlights on londonist. Plus a lot of last-chance-to-see (bye bye, Jerusalem, I'll miss you!) shows, so make sure you don't miss out.
For me, it's yoga; a trip to The Ladykillers; possibly a night at the Southwark Playhouse; and writing, writing, writing; and hopefully some more writing...
From Thursday, you can get a look at Damien Hirst's Spot Paintings for free.
They're going on display at the two Gagosian Galleries in London, as well as at all the other Gagosians (Gagosii?) around the world. (That's New York, Paris, Los Angeles, Rome, Athens, Geneva, and Hong Kong, in case you were wondering.)
Hirst didn't make them himself: these are some of the very works that have caused David Hockney to declare of his own exhibition at the Royal Academy: "all the works were made by the artist himself, personally."
Hirst, on the other hand, used assistants to make his Spot Paintings, saying, "I couldn’t be fucking arsed doing it".
Visit the Gagosian Galleries between now and February to see what the fuss is about, and get in on Hirstmania early: later in the year, Tate Modern is holding a blockbuster Hirst show which'll cost you about £14 to see.
The London Transport Museum has a new Poster Parade on display from tomorrow.
The theme is Painting By Numbers, and the posters featured (just 20 of the possible 500 the museum have in the archive) are all what we'd now call "infographics".
The museum refers to the posters as "data visualisation", and the works on show from the 1920s and 1930s onwards.
They're also very beautiful pieces of design.
What It Takes to Move The Passengers by Irene Fawkes (1924)
Look at this dude's shoes! And I love the detail; the little men working to get those wheels moving along the tracks...
Like the poor guys harvesting "rubber" in this one:
Figures for 1923 by Charles Shepard (1924)
That's 1,134,000,000 passengers dealt with by the 1920s version of TfL. Impressive. Although all of the said passengers seem to be the same very smart man in a coat and hat (See the previous picture!)
And this one, simply called "Speed" is from a decade earlier, but is so fantastic in terms of getting the message across. (I wonder what the average speed of a London bus is today...)
Speed by Alfred Leete (1915)
Again, there are gorgeous details: the monkey travelling at 2mph, the wonderful silhouetted figure of the lady on the same row, the dog racing ahead of that car travelling at 12mph...
And here's a really 60s effort from Heinz Zinram. That's a more recognisable London Transport kind of font right there...
These Vehicles are Carrying 69 People, by Heinz Zinram, photographer (1965)
The exhibition's on at LTM from tomorrow until 18 March. The display complements the museum's current exhibition Sense and the City. Entrance to the museum costs 13.50 (adults) and £10 (concessions), which allows unlimited admission for 12 months. Admission is free for kids under 16. Visit ltmuseum.co.uk for more info.
Another Tuesday, another Arts Ahead for you. But this time, it's for the whole of 2012.
Alphabetically, you could look at it like this:
Adam Cooper, Big Dance, Cultural Olympiad, David Hockney, Exposure, Freud (Lucien), Globe Theatre, Hirst (Damien), I-Einstein on the Beach(!), Jubilee (Diamond), King Lear and Kronos Quartet, Long Day's Journey Into Night, Metamorphosis: Titian, (All) New People, Oil Tanks, Porgy and Bess, (The) Queen, Reverb, Simón Bolívar Symphony Orchestra of Venezuela, (Sweeney) Todd, Umbrellas (for Singin In The Rain), Viva Forever, World Shakespeare Festival...
Can you see why I might've been somewhat, shall we say, restless over the Christmas break?!
I've likened the past few weeks to the clunking, jerky movements heading up a rollercoaster before you finally get to the top, look at a beautiful view all around you (thanks, Christmas in the Shire), and then, Wwwoooosh! From today I've plunged into a spinning, twisting, unrestricted, unregulated freefall that'll continue until ooh, it's all over. In the middle of September.
Everyone loves a round-up-of-the-year blog post, right?
I sketched a few ideas onto a post-it during the last week of work, in preparation for the annual Best Of The Year post we do for the visitlondon.com blog. As the various theatre shows I've enjoyed in 2011 came out around the 10 mark, it seemed fitting to put them together for you here.
Obviously, it's been a pretty unforgettable year for me, events-wise (wedding, hen do, honeymoon being in the top three!), but in amongst all those life-changing events has been a steady stream of top-notch theatre too...
1. One Man, Two Guvnors, National Theatre, June
Now transferred to the West End, and extending its run with a new lead, I was lucky enough to see One Man, Two Guvnors without having read much about it, and before hearing all the hype. It turned out to be the perfect show for the Friday before the Friday before the wedding... Total escapism for me and my husband-to-be. Hilarious, slick, surprising, hugely entertaining; I felt like we were in the hands of enormously talented people, all with incredible performance power. Long may it continue to entertain. Here's what I wrote about it for londonist.
2. Matilda The Musical, Cambridge Theatre, November
I saw Matildaafter the hype. But I still loved it. I defy anyone (with just the vaguest sense of enjoyment when it comes to musical theatre) not to be won over by this show. It's just got so much heart. And the show has introduced me to the brilliance of Tim Minchin (he's really from Northampton, y'know), and Bertie Carvel (who's possibly going to be Mark Darcy in Bridget Jones' Diary The Musical - oh my...!). After writing the Matilda review for londonist, I was also invited to talk about Matilda on French Radio London, which was fun.
3. Crazy For You, Novello Theatre, October
My sister and I saw Crazy For You back in the 1990s with the whole of our family during a lavish Day Out in London for my Grandma's (75th? 80th?) birthday. I was just about a teenager (13 or 14), and the day involved a trip to Claridges' for afternoon tea too. As it turns out, all I can really remember from the day is being offered actual different types of tea (who is this Dargie Ling you speak of?); a waiter telling my Grandma she looked like the Queen Mother (what a charmer!); and a girl singing while sitting on a crescent moon hanging from the flies at the end of the show. Nothing about the musical itself. Seeing it again all these years later, I realised it was no surprise that we couldn't remember the plot! It's totally nonsensical and arbitrary, in the best tradition of all the best musicals. (But, I'd argue, still contains what I like to call the Forest of Arden displacement treatment.) After this incredible production, my sis and I were thumping our knees and crying "Again! Again!" Really, for musical lovers, it's a total treat. The music! The dancing! The shoes! The tap routines! The telephones! The sets! The gloves!
4. Frankenstein, National Theatre, April
Another top show from the National; another which is now indelibly linked to 2011 in my head, as we saw it the day before The Hen Do. That night, Johnny Lee Miller was The Creature and Benedict Cumberbatch the Doctor (a role they alternated, in case you weren't aware). I'd've been happy to see it either way, but loved the dramatisation of this ever-fascinating tale. It was also a great example of a Nat Theatre epic: sets, sound and lighting that had you wondering as much about the skills of the builders back stage as the players on it.
5. Clybourne Park, Wyndham's Theatre, February
The first mention of a Royal Court show in this top 10, Clybourne Park transferred to the West End early this year, and made quite an impression on me. As well as a deliciously sassy script, it was wonderfully acted by a fantastic cast. Here are the thoughts I put together about the show for the visitlondon.com blog.
6. Betty Blue Eyes, Novello Theatre, April
Ahh, Betty. With an actual royal wedding happening at the same time, Cameron Mackintosh producing and Alan Bennett in the mix, I just don't know what happened. At the time, I was pretty sceptical. But in hindsight, I think I actually loved a lot of it. Indeed, here's a round-up of reviews I put together for londonist, concluding:
"Fantastic choral skills ensemble, some brilliantly bonkers songwriting by Stiles and Drew (one about chiropody, another about a bad smell – seriously), and slick choreography by Stephen Mear."
Now watch this and tell me WHY this wasn't a hit?
7. The Westbridge, Theatre Local, November
It's not often you get to see Royal Court-standard theatre a short walk from your house. Unless you live in Sloane Square, of course. But I don't. So it was very exciting to be able to make the press night for The Westbridge at Theatre Local in the Bussey Building in Peckham, a mere hop, skip and a jump from my front door. As well as being wonderfully "local" in every possible way, the acting was spot-on, the script sizzled and the production was innovative and impressive. I hope the 'Court enjoyed their time in my 'hood. Here's what I wrote about The Westbridge for londonist.
8. The Playboy of the Western World, Old Vic, October
I was thrilled to finally see The Playboy of the Western World, having struggled through it at school. The Old Vic's production made for a fascinating evening of half-remembered A Level quotes, page-bound characters bursting to life, a strong slice of Ireland in the heart of Waterloo, and a hugely entertaining piece of comedy drama. Here's what I wrote about The Playboy of the Western World on the visitlondon.com blog.
9. Hamlet, Young Vic, October
No video here, and no review to link up either. I'm so pleased I've finally seen Hamlet live. I'm also really pleased I've seen Michael Sheen perform. He was certainly everything I'd hoped for. And there was lots to enjoy in this innovative show at the Young Vic. But ultimately I was disappointed. Several of the other actors just weren't good enough. And the production just felt kinda cheap. But Mr Sheen's performance just inches this into the top 10 of the year...
10. Umbrellas of Cherbourg, Gielgud Theatre, March / Pippin, Menier Chocolate Factory, December
I know, I know. Having two for tenth place in a top 10 just makes it a top 11, right? Well, there are lots of similarities between these two shows. (As well as a shared cast member in the lovely Carly Bawden.) I guess I'd list both as flawed musicals. That's not to say they weren't enjoyable; indeed, there were moments of brilliance in both. I'm sad the sweet, stylish Umbrellas of Cherbourg didn't survive for longer. Here's what we made of it at work.
And Pippin was, well, different. Really different. And I rather liked most of it. Here's what I wrote about it for londonist.
There was more, of course. I Am The Wind at the Young Vic was one of my favourite reviews to write. The Children's Hour was star-studded, but a dud play, in my opinion. The RSC were on top form with King Lear and As You Like It at the Roundhouse, both quality productions, but because I always expect so much from them, they perhaps didn't surprise me enough to make the final top 10. I quite liked the overambitious 13 at the National. Then there was Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (finally!), and Backbeat (OK, but kinda disappointing), and Double Falsehood (a new theatre for me, but far from Shakespeare's best, IMHO.)
And next year? Well, there'll be more. I should try some more venues, as well as some new companies, and some new shows. Perhaps I can be a bit more adventurous in 2012 than I have been in 2011.
And here's an excellent Top 10 of Raindance to see by Ivan Radford at i-flicks.net.
Finally, here's a nice trailer for Bonsai to make you smile.
I know it's a huge, sweeping generalisation, but I love foreign films. At least, all the foreign films I've ever seen, I've enjoyed. Which probably amounts to no more than 20 full-length feature films, but the case remains. Perhaps, with it being so hard to get foreign-language films into the UK mainstream, those that tend to make it are the cream of the crop. Perhaps if I'd seen more, I'd like fewer of them.
Roberta Marquez and Valeri Hristov in Emeralds, part of Jewels. Photo by Johan Persson
What a gorgeous photo. I think Jewels at the ROH is a real hot ticket for dance fans this week.
Elsewhere, theatreland feels like it's finally woken up after its summer snooze: there's another Tempest, twomusicals, Mike Leigh's new play and more to choose from this week.
Yes, there's a Royal Wedding on, but there's other things going on around London too, y'know!
Here's a guide to what's on this week in terms of big theatre, art, dance and exhibitions in London.
And what am I up to? Well, my "culture" is restricted to phoning various people to sort *our* wedding plans for June. We've passed the two-months-to-go mark, and things are picking up pace!
Now here's the kind of piece I wish I had time to write more frequently. Top 10s are all the rage at Londonist at the mo...
And what a great way to while away a few idle hours, researching and putting together a list of those shows that have shone for such a long time in London's most exciting district: the West End.
Amazing how more than one of these long-runners must owe a (small?) part their success to having Michael Crawford on the bill. I wonder if The Wizard of Oz will still be playing in 17 years time?
Let Them Eat Cake @ Wellington Arch (should totally get my future mother-in-law down to this while she continues to negotiate her way to creating our wedding cake!)
Theatre's a little quieter, and there's pretty much nothing operatic going on at all. That's Easter for you, I guess. Although Alfie Boe fans can catch the tenor entertaining the crowds at the St George's Day concert in Trafalgar Square. Alongside Matt Rawle of Zorro fame!
I love Burlington Arcade. It was the world's first shopping arcade when it opened way back in 1819, and it's now recognised as a historic and architectural masterpiece. Nevermind that it's full of ridiculous shops you'd never actually buy anything from, it's the beauty of this covered shopping street that appeals to me.
So I was happy to be able to write up a news story on them for londonist today. Sure, it's slightly crowbarred onto information about the London Original Print Fair, but that's the way these things sometimes work. And if you're not that sure about paying a tenner for the Print Fair, it's great that you can get a free taster in the area, plus the chance to pick up a free ticket, if you're lucky.
Incidentally, while I'm all for text as art (see Rob Ryan, this It's Pop It's Art print that I'm still crazy about, hey, even our wedding invites), I'm not so sure about this:
It's by Lucy Gough, and called Love And Marriage. But I'm just not sure I like it all that much. Maybe it needs to be seen at the actual size.
Another week, another round of Arts Ahead from Londonist. There's lots of cool-sounding dance around this week: everything from Tango to the Diaghilev Festival and more...
My week includes cooking up an "alternative" review of Betty Blue Eyes, a baby shower for Bump Rhodes, a trip to the National to see Frankenstein, and the small matter of a Hen Do at the weekend.
Here's hoping I'm still alive by next Tuesday, to update everyone on next week's arty happenings...
Yes, yes, I know. But several distractions (some wedding shaped, some career shaped, some holiday shaped) have slotted themselves into the jigsaw puzzle of my life in the last couple of months, and meant blogging's been pushed to the back of the toy cupboard.
But here's April, looking all sunny and shiny, and I'm determined to at least collate if not create on this here blog.
There's other brilliant stuff going on in art, theatre, dance and opera, but for me, it's a quiet week while I try to get on top of the running (minus 2 weeks to the first 10k of 2011) and get some sleep ahead of this weekends shenanigans. (Bridesmaids and Houseparties, if you really want to know.)
Sniff. It's time for me to come to terms with the fact that I'm not going to see Rory Kinnear's Hamlet anytime soon.
Yes, ladies and gents, this time tomorrow, it's all over. And I didn't see it.
Ho, hum. One day, one day, I'll see Hamlet live. And it'll be a brilliant experience, I'm sure.
For me, this week, it's all about King Lear, tonight at the Roundhouse. After last week's exciting As You Like It, I have high hopes for a great production. Last time I saw it, it was with the late Pete Postlethwaite, and I wasn't terribly impressed.
There's lots of other things on in London this week. Here are my tips from Arts Ahead on londonist.
If you asked me why, I'd say there are lots of reasons. My interest in Shakespeare started pretty early: I can clearly remember being asked to read Sir Toby Belch's lines from Twelfth Night in class aged about 11 or 12, and, just like Latin and languages (at the time!), I was fascinated by the pull between the familiarity and strangeness of the words... Also, the sweet feeling of release when you were allowed to talk out loud in class...
Then, my Mum and I became regular visitors to Stratford-upon-Avon; as tourists, as something to do with your youngest kid when the others were off having fun; as people for whom anything recognisably historic, particularly Tudor, was going to be of interest...
When I played Helena in A Midsummer Night's Dream aged 14, learning the lines felt quite easy; it was the same when we were asked to study Othello for A Level. I was quite happy noodling away reading A C Bradley's thoughts on the Moor (totally unnecessary for passing A Level) while my French grades slipped: the result was 100% in the "Shakespeare and the Drama" module, which really stood for "she's read more than she should."
Mum and I made a cardboard model of the Globe Theatre (the one in London, that didn't exist at the time; this theatre, to my mind, was from ancient history) when I was still a young teenager. It wasn't easy either; it was fiddly, awkward and took what felt like a very long time to complete. The sense of accomplishment (combined with the smell of the glue) when we were finally finished was amazing.
Later, the idea that they'd built this complicated not-at-all circular when you're constructing it from card structure for real, in London, blew me away. My parents sent me a postcard of the new Globe when they first visited, while I was studying in Liverpool. It was around the same time as Shakespeare in Love came out on video, and probably around the year I took a module called "Stage to Page to Stage" about how to actually put Shakespeare's words on stage. Joseph Fiennes plus a relatively sexy tutor meant my lifelong fascination was complete.
When I was a language teacher, I took one of my more proficient students to see A Midsummer Night's Dream at the Globe, having explained the love potions and silly plot to her beforehand; it was great, and she loved it too. Since I started reviewing for londonist, they've been kind enough to offer me review tickets many times, and I've always enjoyed the experience, if not every play.
It's just a classy place: the staff, the programmes, the posters, the standing for a fiver, the shop, pretty much everything about The Globe pleases me. Just seeing a picture of it, looking so pristinely black and white, so pleasingly built-for-purpose, so alien to the modern blocks around it, will make me smile.
Recently, I've been engrossed by this blog by Tara Hale about her designs for the new season's programmes.
Twenty-eight plays. Twenty-eight languages. The simplicity of it is lovely. The incredible amounts of work involved; terrifying. I can't imagine how hard it must be having, say, four different acting companies using one theatre, its rehearsal rooms, dressing rooms, props cupboards. Making it run smoothly with 28 just seems gobsmacking. Artistic Director Dominic Dromgoole described the festival as "terrifically clear and simple and slightly bananas". Got to agree with him there.
And secondly, that they're expanding. From 2013, the Globe's season will no longer run from around Shakespeare's birthday (23 April) to around mine (10 October). They'll be doing shows indoors as well.
I'm so chuffed with this news. Below are some of the pictures of what this new theatre will look like.
Exterior of the indoor Jacobean theatre at Shakespeare's Globe. Photo by Nick Robins
Model box interior of the proposed indoor Jacobea theatre. Created by Jonathan Fensom, photo by Fiona Moorhead
There'll be 320-seats, with two tiers of gallery seating and a pit area. From this model, it looks like it'll be as "challenging" on the arse as the current theatre.
Plans for an indoor Jacobean theatre, by kind permission of the Provost and Fellows of Worcester College Oxford
The theatre is based on these designs, above, from Worcester College, Oxford for a 17th-century indoor theatre. These plans are believed to be by Renaissance architect Inigo Jones or his protégé John Webb (I think more people might adhere to the latter theory?) and depict a venue similar to the Blackfriars theatre where Shakespeare and his contemporaries would've put on plays. They're the earliest plans for an English theatre in existence. (Wow.)
So, we'll be able to see plays like The Tempest, The Winter’s Tale, Pericles and Cymbeline in a theatre super-similar to the ones they were written for, from as early as winter 2013. I can only imagine good things will come of the Globe's company having more space and more time to fill.
One thing that struck me while I was putting together this week's piece was The Country Girl at the Apollo, and its great review from the Telegraph. Billington quite liked it too. And yet I've heard nothing about this play the whole time it's been on. Nothing from PRs requesting previews / offering interviews. Nothing in terms of reviews when it opened. And now its closing earlier than we had listed. I guess it's just one of those things... a quiet success that passed most people by.
It's the usual story for culture in January. A few new things opening, and an OVERWHELMING slew of things closing. Things that you've said for the last three months, "Oooh, I'd quite like to see that," and not done anything about it.
Well now, you're doomed to never see them. Doomed, I say. January weekends are full of people's birthdays (I have an almost comically long list of friends with birthdays in January) and work requests are flowing with the speed of an entire company with New Year's Resolutions to keep.