tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39973198676881928762024-03-14T04:52:23.744+00:00I'm Blathering Now...If I'm not at the theatre or out walking, I'm curled up with a cup of tea and a good book, waiting in anticipation of actor Tom Burke's latest project!Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.comBlogger246125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-82574619808547387852022-07-15T21:50:00.068+01:002022-09-03T23:42:18.472+01:00A Pretty Sh*tty Love by Katherine Chandler – 12th July 2022 – Theatr Clwyd<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5jvh3LiUfb9LaUWAA3OFt6mcEXwitLRjFbrCBqO_be_iJA1LOY1EeyMCfUOZU4RsoYLT6AgJRW0T3TOabvGomOE0uxsGwtNPGQwRNNW1a9DSYC9dAqe9jr_Zv1fD8YPTCfjXjt0HDy8AR8l4ROqiyJ1E42vY8nLhWax39QUsE8VArPKItg-L8xNC_jg/s4032/20220829_202900.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5jvh3LiUfb9LaUWAA3OFt6mcEXwitLRjFbrCBqO_be_iJA1LOY1EeyMCfUOZU4RsoYLT6AgJRW0T3TOabvGomOE0uxsGwtNPGQwRNNW1a9DSYC9dAqe9jr_Zv1fD8YPTCfjXjt0HDy8AR8l4ROqiyJ1E42vY8nLhWax39QUsE8VArPKItg-L8xNC_jg/w360-h640/20220829_202900.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>"<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Hayley
and Carl. Carl and Hayley. Finding love in the heart of the pretty shitty city.
Hayley wanted to fall in love - that was the goal - to find her prince. Because
life's about love. Only love. She never found it though, she never looked in
the right place. Then along came Carl."</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Katherine
Chandler’s latest play is not for the faint hearted. Based on a real-life event
which shook Wales, the play is about dreaming of love, living in fear and
ultimately finding the strength to pull yourself out of the abyss. Whilst the
play contains strong language and descriptions of physical, mental, sexual and
drug abuse, it is actually a wonderful piece of theatre taking you through the
highs and lows of Hayley’s life.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Set in
Swansea, South Wales in 2016, the play runs for about an hour with no interval.
It is split into five sections which run fluidly from buried, monologues,
letters, strikes and back around to buried. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Hayley
(Danielle Bird) is a 30-something waitress who just wants a bit of fun in life,
so when Carl (Daniel Hawksford) walks into the café one day, she can’t help but
innocently flirt with him. He was the guy they all fancied at school, and here
he is, Carl Pearce, large as life in her café! Of course it takes him time to
recognise Hayley, and that’s only because she was at school with his brother –
looked out for him, was the one who would take him to her mam’s for something
to eat. The flirting results in a date, Hayley is swept off her feet, she can’t
believe how lucky she is. She is totally besotted with Carl.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">A Pretty
Shitty Love is based on the horrific and shocking events which led to Stacey
Gwilliam becoming headline news around the world. In July 2015, Stacey Gwilliam
was strangled and left for dead on the coastal path between Bracelet Bay and
Langland Bay by her fiancé Keith Hughes. She had woken up trapped beneath a
pile of dirt after Hughes had thought he’d killed her and dumped her body in a
shallow grave. When Hughes was arrested, he confidently told police “You’ll
never find her”, but he was shocked to find out Stacey was still alive and had
used her fingernails to scratch and dig herself out of the dirt. This attack left
Stacey in an induced coma for 14 days, battling sepsis and multiple organ
failure; her body too fragile to be moved to a specialist hospital.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7mJybhAFlHIQN9CKokCvVd9lAOBp2_6ci48uy6ld6YVwM0IfbAUFUM5Xo9OQWfoXVUNBiagSOU_qdhAFeGfxfvr6wCq8i8JxGtWuFnpFwalhkjjCdq8dgak1ep6XaJ1qkT1pRDx8_aA2EvQ5i_ijOuzKoM2Y000oF4f-nNtLQttW3Da2qR_7oI_aYmw/s1000/2022-08-29%20(6).png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="679" data-original-width="1000" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7mJybhAFlHIQN9CKokCvVd9lAOBp2_6ci48uy6ld6YVwM0IfbAUFUM5Xo9OQWfoXVUNBiagSOU_qdhAFeGfxfvr6wCq8i8JxGtWuFnpFwalhkjjCdq8dgak1ep6XaJ1qkT1pRDx8_aA2EvQ5i_ijOuzKoM2Y000oF4f-nNtLQttW3Da2qR_7oI_aYmw/w400-h271/2022-08-29%20(6).png" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">In a TV
interview, the 34-year-old Stacey said: “I came round and there were branches
and shrubs put on top of me. I could hear my heart beating and I could hear the
sound of the sea in the background. It was like everything was in slow motion.
All I could see were blurs of green and brown. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t
move. It was like I was paralysed. It was awful really. Trying to get your head
together to work out what was going on around you. I tried to get up but
couldn’t. I had to use my nails to get out of where I was. That was all I could
do. I tried to push but I didn’t have the upper strength.”<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Hughes was
jailed for life later that year at Swansea Crown Court, and Gwilliam, who had spent
time with the playwright Katherine Chandler to help with research and
development of the play, sadly did not see the play into production. She died
in 2022 following health complications aged just 40.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">I
scrape at the soil beneath me<o:p></o:p></span></b></i></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Dig
my nails into the dirt<o:p></o:p></span></b></i></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">I
work out what’s going on</span></b><o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The play sounds
like it could be a very bleak 70 minutes of theatre, but Katherine Chandler has
written a multi-level play, injecting plenty of moments of pure joy and
laughter as Hayley and Carl start their relationship. The dialogue is natural
and sounds as though the words are being spoken for the first time. The
audience is captivated as the fourth wall is broken and becomes gripped to
their seats as they watch Hayley’s world start to unravel.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">During the
monologues section, both actors possess a fragility and strength in equal measure.
This is the “easy to watch” part of the play because both characters are in a
good place. Life is going well for them. There is a playfulness and calmness as
they both tell their sides of the story to the audience. As we move to the letters
section, the atmosphere changes, it starts to darken. Danielle Bird flips from
being the strong independent waitress flirting with the customers, to becoming
a broken woman, lonely, abused, with nowhere to turn. Equally Daniel Hawksford is
this charismatic but brutish body builder who has a softer side when it comes
to his brother’s care, but an early episode in the local pub allows the
audience to see what this man is capable of, and through the letters section we
see the inevitable start to rear its ugly head. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEing9_0h4GnrDLRWQl9wZ-SVCL-V8ToCfqWwRhOfkBKz2i2AiaZHKn0dCkDm9xbC0T7nvSATGRZpHW9ab6kGK7ZvfeegWBZDNZpeLO6EOB0WkxMcN26OEcnLgGC2RMzVuHNp2MnCfdwnVWyyRoZPRDS5XXsLJjxUADvUiooSUm2TaH470gP3LqXJkFdrQ/s1010/2022-08-29%20(5).png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="1010" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEing9_0h4GnrDLRWQl9wZ-SVCL-V8ToCfqWwRhOfkBKz2i2AiaZHKn0dCkDm9xbC0T7nvSATGRZpHW9ab6kGK7ZvfeegWBZDNZpeLO6EOB0WkxMcN26OEcnLgGC2RMzVuHNp2MnCfdwnVWyyRoZPRDS5XXsLJjxUADvUiooSUm2TaH470gP3LqXJkFdrQ/w400-h264/2022-08-29%20(5).png" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Lulu Tam’s
striking set provides the third character – a sandy floor and hinged Perspex screens
covered in lines from the play is reminiscent of a fun fair hall of mirrors. We
don’t know which way to turn, in the distance we can only see more and more
warped visions of ourselves, we get lost, we struggle to find the way out, and
eventually gasping on fresh air as the exit is found. A visual aid to understanding
how and why people end up trapped in abusive relationships. <br /><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The creative
approach to the "striking’s" and physical abuse must be applauded. The mind is given the freedom to
witness the abuse via sound, lighting and movement rather than a straightforward
fight scene. A Pretty Shitty Love is a powerful story, it’s Stacey’s story, but
this gem from Theatr Clwyd shines a light on domestic abuse which thousands of
people face daily. As the lights dimmed and the play ended, I wanted to burst into rapturous applause, but it felt almost wrong to do so. The theatre remained in an eerie silence as everyone paused, reflected on the life of Gwilliam, and then suddenly the theatre erupted into loud applause, and as the lights came up, a well deserved standing ovation could be seen, such was the profound effect the play had on the audience. This production needs to be witnessed in as many towns and
cities as possible, and hopefully it will go on tour, rather than being
consigned to just a few nights in a couple of Welsh theatres.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">A Pretty
Sh*tty Love by Katherine Chandler <o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Theatr
Clwyd - Emlyn Williams Theatre Fri 8<sup>th</sup> July 2022 – Sat 23<sup>rd</sup>
July 2022<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Chapter
Arts, Cardiff Weds 27<sup>th</sup> July – Fri 29<sup>th</sup> July<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<h3 style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Hayley:
Danielle Bird<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">
Carl: Daniel Hawksford</span></b></h3>
<h4 style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Writer:
Katherine Chandler<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Director:
Francesca Goodridge</span></b></h4>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">Running Time: Approx 70 mins (no interval)<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>Production images c/o Theatr Clwyd Gallery Images <a href="https://www.theatrclwyd.com/event/a-pretty-shitty-love#gallery" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">https://www.theatrclwyd.com/event/a-pretty-shitty-love#gallery</a></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">To purchase a copy of the play <a href="https://www.concordtheatricals.co.uk/s/94999/a-pretty-shitty-love" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">https://www.concordtheatricals.co.uk/s/94999/a-pretty-shitty-love</a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-51448050489983365212022-05-28T14:37:00.056+01:002022-09-03T23:42:10.690+01:00Boeing Boeing by Marc Camoletti – 26th May 2022 – Theatr Clwyd<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOMUhUfti01q63w8dnOE3y8fkrm4ldSMhJSUgN8V6VYe7E4Fc7lBFkqZzCkOBhIX_pSnmL8AK9cKiBC96zE7sgqzFeo8fM0UPY7xc841geH9uOhIjnnXFmkk8wljHxyQY2oFfPtnm9Za71Dp-0pOk_gBFgwyhHFsX3ZUaTkwNrx8utL8gsxgEAIPuaPg/s1916/20220828_145723.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1916" data-original-width="1723" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOMUhUfti01q63w8dnOE3y8fkrm4ldSMhJSUgN8V6VYe7E4Fc7lBFkqZzCkOBhIX_pSnmL8AK9cKiBC96zE7sgqzFeo8fM0UPY7xc841geH9uOhIjnnXFmkk8wljHxyQY2oFfPtnm9Za71Dp-0pOk_gBFgwyhHFsX3ZUaTkwNrx8utL8gsxgEAIPuaPg/w576-h640/20220828_145723.jpg" width="576" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: large;">Set in
Paris in 1962, Marc Camoletti’s play Boeing Boeing is a magnificently funny
tale about how Bernard, (John Dorney), a successful architect, juggles his
complicated love-life, whilst not really caring that he is dragging both his
maid and old friend into the chaos against their will.</span></b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Bernard has
three fiancées, Gloria, Gabriella and Gretchen. All three work as
flight-attendants for different airlines, and with the help of his long-suffering
housekeeper Bertha, he has so far managed to keep each woman unaware of the
other’s existence due his carefully scheduled routine. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Bachelor
Bernard thinks settling down with one person would be too much of a challenge,
therefore why not have the best that life can throw at you? Two partners would
be a bit boring, four partners too much juggling required, but three? Three is
perfect…or so it seems. As careful as Bernard’s calculations are, he can’t stop
technology and the launch of a new super-speed jet is about to throw all his high-precision
plans into disarray; that and the odd storm and a bit of bad luck. This is one
day in Bernard’s life he is never going to forget.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">John
Dorney is fantastic as Bernard, especially when a bit of turbulence sends him
from the careful man in control, to the stressed clumsy man panicking about
what to do next. His physicality on stage is hypnotic as his body starts to contort
in every direction when his character starts to unravel; very much in the style
of John Cleese in Fawlty Towers! The descent from calm to panic and
near-hysteria as Bernard tries to keep all three women apart in flat is
joyfully crafted, with some great comic timing and some beautifully delivered
one-liners. Poor Bernard, it’s hard not to laugh as we watch him suffer.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP8HfJ8Ep81MPLbMBqJi_2oI2CuIZ_sxXM6KZymU6PggV0bSaSwUIkCXO6JoEuWldxCV7KH0sRiWndtBwBMLPBcqQcPdSuDRxxFjGObaeslye5MUdc1ZMqHQeh0giveMfz4AfnmLcGpBXYbX0FAtwZGYWxdpVTOTtckodsY8qWBrNNbPZ7rhRhGNFKWQ/s3464/Picsart_22-08-28_15-44-17-738.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3464" data-original-width="3464" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP8HfJ8Ep81MPLbMBqJi_2oI2CuIZ_sxXM6KZymU6PggV0bSaSwUIkCXO6JoEuWldxCV7KH0sRiWndtBwBMLPBcqQcPdSuDRxxFjGObaeslye5MUdc1ZMqHQeh0giveMfz4AfnmLcGpBXYbX0FAtwZGYWxdpVTOTtckodsY8qWBrNNbPZ7rhRhGNFKWQ/w640-h640/Picsart_22-08-28_15-44-17-738.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="aos-fl"><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 0.1pt; line-height: 107%;">Images: Sheila Burnett</span></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Robert
(Paul Sandy) is a nice contrast to this exuberance. He hasn’t seen his friend
for a long time, so when he arrives and hears what his friend is up to, he’s
initially stunned. He approaches everything with a sense of calm innocence,
starting and ending the play with the same considered composure.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Jo Castleton shines as the cynical housekeeper charged with preparing food to suit the different nationalities of the three women; she saunters across the stage with a world-weary look about her as she takes on the demanding roles of chief cook, brothel-keeper and traffic-control!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">The ladies
add a glorious splash of colour in their contrasting dress. The first fiancée
we meet wearing a vibrant red uniform is the kooky American Gloria (Isabel
Della-Porta), she is finishing breakfast and heading out to the airport to
start her shift. As she leaves, the fiercely patriotic German Gretchen (Jessica
Dennis) wearing a bright yellow has finished work and is ready to have lunch with
Bernard. Finally, the fiery Italian Gabriella (Nathalie Barclay) appears, ready
to spend the night at Bernard’s. All three actors appeared to relish their
roles, they seemed at ease with their accents and looked to enjoy themselves
immensely as comedic chaos reigned supreme.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">A huge
round of applause should go to Bek Palmer’s design, not only of the bright vintage
costumes, but also the 1960’s set, which at the time would have looked
futuristic and space-age but now looks really retro! The bright lights and
colours on the stage look akin to a TV studio, and the semi-circular design of
doors has you wondering who will pop out of each one and when. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjidyOMhseKhPTjs8yz9yDj7i06rwf-5mH6Za8pJtqFkkc-Lnvgh4zVsZu6OkCfeP0qxFLSOvQ_Ng1yFWSGbN3KzxTsL80nEjkONeUC5CMUjpmjaT86251OojBdqYKF5YXFJ-hl5LtTbQjQ-am5Qe8II92kq8uO1LwcDyEtP8wBqu79DSeL4cBRyy3Uzw/s5264/20220526_191608.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2128" data-original-width="5264" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjidyOMhseKhPTjs8yz9yDj7i06rwf-5mH6Za8pJtqFkkc-Lnvgh4zVsZu6OkCfeP0qxFLSOvQ_Ng1yFWSGbN3KzxTsL80nEjkONeUC5CMUjpmjaT86251OojBdqYKF5YXFJ-hl5LtTbQjQ-am5Qe8II92kq8uO1LwcDyEtP8wBqu79DSeL4cBRyy3Uzw/w640-h258/20220526_191608.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">This play does
justice to the classic French farce, and whilst in parts you sit waiting for
the inevitable to happen, the play does have a few twists to keep you on your
toes, and as Bernard says, you can ‘never tell a woman what to do.’ It's another wonderful production from London Classic Theatre.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Boeing
Boeing by Marc Camoletti</span></b><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Theatr
Clwyd – </span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Theatr </span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Anthony Hopkins </span></b></p><h2 style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Gloria: Isabel
Della-Porta<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">
Bernard: John Dorney<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">
Bertha: Jo Castleton<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Robert:
Paul Sandys<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Gabriella:
Nathalie Barclay<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Gretchen: Jessica Dennis</span></b></h2><div><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;">Running Time: 140 mins</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></b></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><h3 style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">24-28 May<br /></span><a href="https://www.theatrclwyd.com/"><b><span color="windowtext" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">Theatr Clwyd<br /></span></b></a><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">01352 344101</span></h3>
<h3 style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">1-4 June<br /></span><a href="https://www.theatreroyal.org.uk/"><b><span color="windowtext" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">Theatre Royal Bath<br /></span></b></a><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">01225 448844</span></h3><h3 style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">7-11 June<br /></span><a href="https://www.eastbournetheatres.co.uk/"><b><span color="windowtext" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">Devonshire Park Theatre, Eastbourne<br /></span></b></a><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">01323 412000<br /></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">14-18 June<br /></span><a href="https://theatreroyal.org/"><b><span color="windowtext" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">Theatre Royal, Bury
St Edmunds<br /></span></b></a><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">01284 769505<br /></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">21-26 June<br /></span><a href="https://www.derbytheatre.co.uk/"><b><span color="windowtext" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">Derby Theatre<br /></span></b></a><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">01332 593939<br /></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">28 June - 2 July<br /></span><a href="https://www.yvonne-arnaud.co.uk/"><b><span color="windowtext" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">Yvonne Arnaud Theatre, Guildford<br /></span></b></a><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">01483 440000<br /></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">5-9 July<br /></span><a href="https://www.malvern-theatres.co.uk/"><b><span color="windowtext" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">Malvern Theatres<br /></span></b></a><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">01684 892277<br /></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">12-16 July<br /></span><a href="https://www.cambridgeartstheatre.com/"><b><span color="windowtext" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">Cambridge Arts Theatre<br /></span></b></a><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">01223 503333<br /></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">19-23 July<br /></span><a href="https://www.theatreroyalwinchester.co.uk/"><b><span color="windowtext" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">Theatre Royal, Winchester<br /></span></b></a><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">01962 840440<br /></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">26-30 July<br /></span><a href="https://darlingtonhippodrome.co.uk/"><b><span color="windowtext" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">Darlington Hippodrome<br /></span></b></a><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">01325 405405</span></h3>
<br /><p></p><p></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-80207002088206822602022-05-27T21:49:00.044+01:002022-09-03T23:41:44.787+01:00Celebrated Virgins: A Story of the Ladies of Llangollen by Katie Elin-Salt – 24th May 2022 – Theatr Clwyd<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs3QhwmS9jnGOV5nOJEqaFMIaplWp9EQVswwP96YKOG05UwcKz0iMUQWygMgY_qD7xcbDRU4cTM2lfVrix4Ik8X1E1CVagFj_Xodb2-_ExIaFBVAw995REI5-K1q9Vs5UERJgGXr7v56PN29eARTEOtiHfvA8RwGQLyEf_3bxAEhWTmpBN5nuqPx__FQ/s2916/20220829_121924.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2916" data-original-width="2268" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs3QhwmS9jnGOV5nOJEqaFMIaplWp9EQVswwP96YKOG05UwcKz0iMUQWygMgY_qD7xcbDRU4cTM2lfVrix4Ik8X1E1CVagFj_Xodb2-_ExIaFBVAw995REI5-K1q9Vs5UERJgGXr7v56PN29eARTEOtiHfvA8RwGQLyEf_3bxAEhWTmpBN5nuqPx__FQ/w498-h640/20220829_121924.jpg" width="498" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Thanks to the TV series Gentleman Jack,
many people now know the life story of Anne Lister, (3 April 1791 – 22
September 1840) but hers was not the singular tale of an 18th century lesbian.
By the time of her death in 1829, Eleanor Butler had been living with Sarah
Ponsonby in Plas Newydd, Llangollen, for half a century. Cast out by society
and forced to leave their homes in Kilkenny, Ireland, Eleanor and Sarah assumed
residence in the Welsh town of Llangollen where they became minor celebrities.</span><p></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">What is known about the Ladies of
Llangollen is that they were two Irish women who met in 1768 who absconded from
their hometown with their maid, Mary Caryll. They ended up in Plas Newydd,
Llangollen, where they lived together for 50 years entertaining various visitors
of Georgian society, including the Duke of Wellington, Wordsworth, Shelley, and
Byron. Whilst their story may not be known outside of the area, those from
around Llangollen tell the story with pride. These were two ladies who were
cast out by their own society, were welcomed and accepted by the people in
Llangollen to live a private, peaceful life. The two ladies became minor
celebrities, seeing their lives written about by those that visited but who
could never understand the nature of their relationship. This play allows them
to tell their story on their terms.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Celebrated Virgins maps out the
relationship between Lady Eleanor and Sarah from their first unarticulated
feelings for each other, to their tender relationship towards the end of their
days spent quietly among the beautiful rose gardens they created. This new play
has been developed based on the true story of Lady Eleanor Butler and her
former student Miss Sarah Ponsonby, and whilst it is based on real events, it
is written from the perspective of a 2022 audience, therefore it is a
reimagining of their lives rather than a documentary.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM_hdnqL2DPNQ7Q66vumdc7iAlBpOP8ykXCM23iAUPGaxSeHY_B5jMH8SXaBajwFsTJbDMr6DcHvgHli23FxdQdDQuPi4RXI7QmyuDbkRjmlLmYKwW7vF0nI926Cz-pD5_NWLIqlceMS_fED7Pj3zJB0qxCTy9004E2r40pyHKsFeXicpAXDlgSexJJg/s900/20220829_232144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="506" data-original-width="900" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM_hdnqL2DPNQ7Q66vumdc7iAlBpOP8ykXCM23iAUPGaxSeHY_B5jMH8SXaBajwFsTJbDMr6DcHvgHli23FxdQdDQuPi4RXI7QmyuDbkRjmlLmYKwW7vF0nI926Cz-pD5_NWLIqlceMS_fED7Pj3zJB0qxCTy9004E2r40pyHKsFeXicpAXDlgSexJJg/w640-h360/20220829_232144.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">This production relies on the community
to make it work, and local residents played the parts of the visitors and staff
who surrounded Lady Eleanor and Sarah in their daily lives. Heather Agyepong
plays Sarah with a playfulness and charismatic charm. This is clearly her
telling of the story, and she connects with the audience throughout the play.
Victoria John by contrast executes Eleanor as a more cautious character,
concerned with public perception and how the world will view her and react to
her unconventional life choices. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">It is difficult to tell a full
well-balanced story spanning 50 years during a 130-minute play, so the first
act feels as though we are being bombarded with various events to bring us up
to speed as to how the ladies find themselves in Llangollen. The second act,
once Sarah, Eleanor and Mary arrive at Llangollen, settles into a much more
considered story of who they all are as people; much of this is due to the
ladies’ maid, Mary Caryll played by Emma Pallant. The action feels as though
the fourth wall has been broken and the audience is connected to the characters,
rather than watching their story from afar, and hearing Mary Caryll speak is
like a breath of fresh air. This is a strong formidable woman, not someone to
be messed with, and with all the work expected of her she is “FLATARSE
KNACKERED” and does not hold back from telling the audience so which is met
with warm affection.</span><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBxk9BkUJoqZBj1ngcsaC0HNaA0GqzoXW-AKFtMDWfwErar6ixnRa2QUm-W8AnZT_erMHCR7yP_ZjIAbkCPuGzctqp-0MfSUlnLmeLH3C2SAOxJXsOrx685saKPodHnbnc4w_w96lbk_fRCiYHwkjf1tZ1bODkbe7TXLA0JjSrC1VLxVSFL3K7nIps0w/s337/220px-Portrait_of_The_Rt._Honble._Lady_Eleanor_Butler_&_Miss_Ponsonby_'The_Ladies_of_Llangollen'_(4671302).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="337" data-original-width="220" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBxk9BkUJoqZBj1ngcsaC0HNaA0GqzoXW-AKFtMDWfwErar6ixnRa2QUm-W8AnZT_erMHCR7yP_ZjIAbkCPuGzctqp-0MfSUlnLmeLH3C2SAOxJXsOrx685saKPodHnbnc4w_w96lbk_fRCiYHwkjf1tZ1bODkbe7TXLA0JjSrC1VLxVSFL3K7nIps0w/s320/220px-Portrait_of_The_Rt._Honble._Lady_Eleanor_Butler_&_Miss_Ponsonby_'The_Ladies_of_Llangollen'_(4671302).jpg" width="209" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The Ladies of Llangollen is a tender
story about real women, and it is commendable that this drama does not forget
the house-keeper Mary Caryll as she was such an integral part of the story
before and after her death. Lady Eleanor and Sarah were constantly in debt, as was
most of the aristocracy of their time; they did not understand money unlike
Mary who had the foresight to save the pennies she made from tips from the
visitors to Plas Newydd. Many people were allowed to visit the extraordinary
gardens of Plas Newydd and Mary Caryll would give some of those visitors a tour
of the house for a fee. Upon her death in 1808, she left Sarah and Eleanor her
life savings of £500 in order that they could get a mortgage on the property so
they could live there for the rest of their days.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Lady Eleanor died in 1829, and the
Kilkenny Moderator reported on Eleanor’s funeral as follows:</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><b><i> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">“It is impossible almost to describe the
feeling of the inhabitants of Llangollen upon this melancholy occasion; all the
shops were closed, business at a stand and scarcely a dry eye to be seen. All
who could afford were attired in deep mourning and the poorer classes (to whom
she was a most liberal benefactress) bewailed the loss of her whose remains
were in a few hours to be conveyed to that “bourne-from whence no traveller
returns”</span></i></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Sarah Ponsonby died two years later in 1831. When Mary Caryll died, it
was decided that when the time came, all three ladies would be buried together,
and so in 1810 a three-sided gothic style monument was erected in St Collen’s
churchyard. All three ladies are buried there, and Plas Newydd remains open
welcoming in visitors to Llangollen. A fitting ending to a beautifully written
play; it would be wonderful if Theatr Clwyd could once again join forces with
the BBC to bring this play to a TV screen like they did with Isla, so that more
people could hear the fascinating story of Eleanor, Sarah, and Mary.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Celebrated
Virgins: A Story of the Ladies of Llangollen by Katie Elin-Salt and Eleri B
Jones.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Theatr
Clwyd - 20 May 2022 until – 4 June 2022, in Theatr Mix.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Running
Time: 2hrs 10 mins<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><h4 style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Sarah: Heather Agyepong<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Eleanor: Victoria John<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Lady
Betty/ Mary: Emma Pallant<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Sir William/William
Wordsworth/Edmund Burke: Seán Carlson</span></b></h4><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">
</span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">If you'd like to read the play, you can order a copy here: </span><a href="https://www.concordtheatricals.co.uk/s/94873/celebrated-virgins" rel="nofollow" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;" target="_blank">https://www.concordtheatricals.co.uk/s/94873/celebrated-virgins</a></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-56164244989036226052022-03-30T21:40:00.012+01:002022-09-03T23:41:38.448+01:00Catch Me If You Can by Jack Weinstock & Willie Gilbert – 28th March 2022 – Theatr Clwyd<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH8CXeWymCPMKpXfSO6MJ5G1OqctNKH5zhY3PLUuOGePWNvouQYQjRzhWwKOYNRnk0_akob4bfMMka4Gao1NUT7zwIN2glDg5C6XyjZCZTO5WZxXduLdQu0-3wzdSMwqM6CmEtbtuh6BjJZqbbtt-_cCldIwnCHvvJiaPh7sRmY_GZTmS7yTdBnPsfZQ/s2682/20220328_220400.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2682" data-original-width="1896" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH8CXeWymCPMKpXfSO6MJ5G1OqctNKH5zhY3PLUuOGePWNvouQYQjRzhWwKOYNRnk0_akob4bfMMka4Gao1NUT7zwIN2glDg5C6XyjZCZTO5WZxXduLdQu0-3wzdSMwqM6CmEtbtuh6BjJZqbbtt-_cCldIwnCHvvJiaPh7sRmY_GZTmS7yTdBnPsfZQ/w452-h640/20220328_220400.jpg" width="452" /></a></div>As a kid
growing up in the 70’s and 80’s, I can’t say I watched that much TV. In fact, I
don’t think we got a colour TV until the end of the 80’s. I think I was the
only child in school not to know what colour Posh Paws was on The
Multi-coloured Swap Shop, and who understood what Ted Lowe meant when he uttered
his immortal phrase about “the pink is next to the green” on a live snooker
commentary. <o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Whilst I’d
hear all the hoo ha about Dallas and Dynasty in the school playground (and of
course that major news story, who shot JR Ewing) I never watched either show;
as a family we didn’t watch soap operas, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t
intrigued to watch TV legends Patrick Duffy, Bobby Ewing in Dallas, and Linda
Purl, Homeland, if they were appearing on a stage near me!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Now,
before we start with the review, let’s make something clear, this <b><i>Catch
Me If You Can</i></b> is <b>NOT</b> a stage production of the 2002 Leonardo
DiCaprio film, this is a very different beast of a story! The play is based on
a French play, <i>Trap for a Lonely Man</i>, by Robert Thomas, however, this
adaptation written by Jack Weinstock & Willie Gilbert is a thriller which
made its debut on Broadway in 1965. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Newly
married Daniel Corban (Patrick Duffy) is at a remote lodge in the Catskill
mountains; his wife has been missing for a few days, and the local police
believe it is nothing more than a lover’s tiff. The cleric, Father Kelleher,
visits Corban with the welcome news that Elizabeth has been found and reunites
the couple. The only fly in the ointment is that Daniel is insistent that this
woman is not his wife Elizabeth, whilst she is equally insistent that she
is…and so opens this intriguing thriller in which a baffling train of events in
which no-one is who they appear to be and nothing is what it seems to be.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHOW8c0xsV4-XXvmwkchnsrEB59FMBrZJgJ7WkcwZQBzk1CSd-tEJjbJfb0cbMjWhEJh_536QZSKOyY3ohDMqPzFqjzClsCBlUKiV_20A3v9__2I70Db_DiO1wnyg5dhsBgFyKpomFKGobr73-kio7BvWaKaBC8MKsC_iKxUJtfuv04MUpWWHP2kePqA/s4032/20220328_213519.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHOW8c0xsV4-XXvmwkchnsrEB59FMBrZJgJ7WkcwZQBzk1CSd-tEJjbJfb0cbMjWhEJh_536QZSKOyY3ohDMqPzFqjzClsCBlUKiV_20A3v9__2I70Db_DiO1wnyg5dhsBgFyKpomFKGobr73-kio7BvWaKaBC8MKsC_iKxUJtfuv04MUpWWHP2kePqA/w640-h360/20220328_213519.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></p>Catch Me
If You Can grips the audience’s attention from the very beginning. Is Elizabeth
Corban an imposter? Is Daniel Corban suffering from exhaustion, delirium…or is
he a pawn in a well-orchestrated deceit? As the story unfolds, the audience is
filled with doubt and suspicion of just about everyone who takes to the stage.
Someone must be telling the truth, but are either of the Corbans telling it?
One of them must be lying, or if not, one must clearly believe what he or she
is saying. This then brings an added layer to the play as Daniel’s sanity is
brought into question. As each scene ends, another detail is added to the
mystery, and more paranoia and doubt starts to creep in. The joy of a 1960’s
based play is that there are no mobile phones, no GPS, no CCTV, which would
render the plot implausible as Elizabeth’s digital footprint would mean she’d
be found in a couple of days.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I was
thrilled to see that Duffy was perfectly cast as the increasingly neurotic
Daniel Corban. He brought a quiet calm to the stage, playing the concerned
husband and possible victim. The audience who had come to see him who were die
hard Dallas fans were obviously rooting for his character right from the start,
but the way he expressed his inner thoughts and his character’s torment about
this woman who had turned up on his doorstep was so believable that you just
couldn’t help but be on his side. Equally, for his “Yin”, Linda Purl, was the
perfect “Yang” choice as Elizabeth, a woman hell-bent on torturing Daniel as
much as she could. Whereas Duffy was quiet and calm, Purl was effervescent,
injecting an electric energy to the stage. There was a chemistry between both
actors that you might see on the set of a TV sitcom; in fact, the plot did feel
a bit formulaic and familiar, and for every bit of doubt Daniel Corban had,
Elizabeth had a confidence that was so commanding, you’d be forgiven for
questioning your own sanity. Gray O’Brien, as the put-upon Inspector Levine,
completes the main trio of characters, he adds some much-needed humour to the
piece and a different sort of energy. His wisecracks leave the audience in
stitches as he tries desperately to piece together the mystery surrounding
Daniel Corban and his missing wife.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOOu-eDEvUOvgZ4DGMt3aXQuhAq-gpRlHzdaeKRF97QUyHjeP0xycI_1qYUIGFCVPAvvOdPQ4infk16BVxw_-JY0Tz6U7oEv1ZbbmAm2qf4H6gzKHrmZ3vdjzDiL4csGSksnYzOJXwPG3A217eNSzXlp4L6QP_sbJ5pEEJenNeNGIVQ0VcwQyIjXmhmQ/s1080/20220705_182131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1080" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOOu-eDEvUOvgZ4DGMt3aXQuhAq-gpRlHzdaeKRF97QUyHjeP0xycI_1qYUIGFCVPAvvOdPQ4infk16BVxw_-JY0Tz6U7oEv1ZbbmAm2qf4H6gzKHrmZ3vdjzDiL4csGSksnYzOJXwPG3A217eNSzXlp4L6QP_sbJ5pEEJenNeNGIVQ0VcwQyIjXmhmQ/s320/20220705_182131.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">By the
time the interval came my head was mashed, there were obviously clues there,
but which were real and which were red herrings? Around me, I could hear people
excitedly sharing theories with one another…this play was audience engagement
at it’s best. If you didn’t know the person you were sat next to, you were soon
drawn into conversation. The script throws twist after twist, resulting in a
well-considered climax, which leaves you berating yourself for not trusting
your gut instincts. The play was funny, puzzling and captivating, so catch it
if you can!<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"> </span> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Catch Me
If You Can by Jack Weinstock & Willie Gilbert</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Theatr
Clwyd – Theatr Anthony Hopkins until 2<sup>nd</sup> April 2022</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<h2 style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Daniel
Corban: Patrick Duffy<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Elizabeth
Corban: Linda Purl<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Inspector
Levine: Gray O’Brien<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Father
Kelleher: Ben Nealon<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Sidney:
Hugh Futcher<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Everett
Parker: Paul Lavers<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Mrs Parker: Chloe Zeitounian</span></b></h2><div><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></b></div><div><p class="MsoNormal">Running Time: Approx
2 hours<o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 19.5pt;"><a href="https://www.londontheatre1.com/theatre/richmond-theatre/"><span style="color: #5b9bd5; mso-themecolor: accent5;">Richmond Theatre</span></a><br />
11 April- 16 April 2022 <o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 19.5pt;"><a href="https://www.londontheatre1.com/theatre/the-alexandra-birmingham/"><span style="color: #5b9bd5; mso-themecolor: accent5;">Alexandra Theatre Birmingham</span></a><br />
25 April- 30 April 2022 <o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 19.5pt;">Eastbourne Devonshire Park<br />
<a href="http://eastbournetheatres.co.uk/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #5b9bd5; mso-themecolor: accent5;">eastbournetheatres.co.uk</span></a><br />
09 May- 14 May 2022 <o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 19.5pt;">Theatre Royal Bath<br />
<a href="http://theatreroyal.org.uk/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #5b9bd5; mso-themecolor: accent5;">theatreroyal.org.uk</span></a><br />
16 May- 21 May 2022<o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 19.5pt;">Cambridge Arts Theatre<br />
<a href="http://cambridgeartstheatre.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #5b9bd5; mso-themecolor: accent5;">cambridgeartstheatre.com</span></a><br />
23 May- 28 May 2022<o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 19.5pt;">The Lowry Salford<br />
<a href="http://thelowry.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #5b9bd5; mso-themecolor: accent5;">thelowry.com</span></a><br />
30 May- 04 June 2022<o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 19.5pt;"><a href="https://www.londontheatre1.com/theatre/aylesbury-waterside-theatre/"><span style="color: #5b9bd5; mso-themecolor: accent5;">Aylesbury Waterside Theatre</span></a><br />
06 June- 18 June 2022<o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 19.5pt;">Yvonne Arnaud Guilford<br />
<a href="http://yvonne-arnaud.co.uk/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #5b9bd5; mso-themecolor: accent5;">yvonne-arnaud.co.uk</span></a><br />
13 June- 18 June 2022<o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 19.5pt;">Churchill Theatre Bromley<br />
<a href="http://churchilltheatre.co.uk/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #5b9bd5; mso-themecolor: accent5;">churchilltheatre.co.uk</span></a><br />
20 June- 25 June 2022<o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 19.5pt;"><a href="https://www.londontheatre1.com/theatre/theatre-royal-glasgow/"><span style="color: #5b9bd5; mso-themecolor: accent5;">Theatre Royal Glasgow</span></a><br />
27 June- 02 July 2022<o:p></o:p></p></div>
Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-20594229716183897812022-03-11T20:27:00.046+00:002022-09-03T23:41:32.011+01:00Washington Irving’s - The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Phillip Meeks – 8th March 2022 – name of theatre<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb41NYkloJB0C0aHEqh0BlXmvygf6EDALrhH-oteNnHpjQLWg2JTZ6qNfdlOrJ6HLxtmHkDrvV4Xz-ZztcEaFP4TSY56rMuEwuXvAv1nY1wNKzDAE8y-L_ZcqdX5VxsXj8y5cHEjiekEevA7Wt2kEqo1ONdVi0uFvw6wyMI6jDKSUofROZTkLxiVtQWg/s2186/20220827_210059.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2186" data-original-width="2184" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb41NYkloJB0C0aHEqh0BlXmvygf6EDALrhH-oteNnHpjQLWg2JTZ6qNfdlOrJ6HLxtmHkDrvV4Xz-ZztcEaFP4TSY56rMuEwuXvAv1nY1wNKzDAE8y-L_ZcqdX5VxsXj8y5cHEjiekEevA7Wt2kEqo1ONdVi0uFvw6wyMI6jDKSUofROZTkLxiVtQWg/w400-h400/20220827_210059.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: large;">I love,
love, love the comic book effect programme for The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, but
that’s pretty much where my love for this production began to run out.</span></b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">“Don’t
pass by. Stay forever.” Beseeches the sign outside of Sleepy Hollow, but this
is not a place you are likely to linger. The show is loosely adapted from
Washington Irving’s short story, and unlike Tim Burton’s film starring Johnny
Depp, it remains true to the original in that it follows the arrival of
schoolmaster Ichabod Crane (Sam Jackson) to the superstitious hamlet of Sleepy
Hollow.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;"><b><br /></b></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>The Headless Horseman represents a past
that never dies, but always haunts the living.</b><o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span><span style="font-family: times;">Journalist
and biographer Washington Irving, born in 1783, created arguably the earliest
of the American-made horror creatures…The Headless Horseman. Ichabod Crane, a
young man from the city of Boston, arrives in the backwater of Sleepy Hollow to
open a school, but in reality he has a darker motive for coming to this small
hamlet. Irving was obsessed with early American history, the folklore
surrounding the Headless Horseman maintained that the Horseman was a Hessian
trooper during the American Revoltunary War and killed during the battle of
White Plains in 1776. The legend stated that he lost his head by an American
cannonball, and whilst his body was collected, his shattered head remained on
the battlefield. He was buried in the cemetery at Sleepy Hollow from where he
was said to rise as a malevolent ghost, seeking his head, or a replacement from
someone else.<span></span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Ji54p19Mqi0Y3siNGCSee4-baV6L5Ky7PYhmbtZt8d9sZu_z_02QR_AhlWDqu3aD7zSChQFr05Oyc5lJUVndlT26gWHDpKKhpVOYoo-ufS6uHtf9jOBllBQ4JvNoDzsCscjMNq_ZqV4d8A8e70nD1YelUlOMqjGjOVUN0rXddjdb81BNcQoDJ00yYQ/s3470/20220308_231752.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1622" data-original-width="3470" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Ji54p19Mqi0Y3siNGCSee4-baV6L5Ky7PYhmbtZt8d9sZu_z_02QR_AhlWDqu3aD7zSChQFr05Oyc5lJUVndlT26gWHDpKKhpVOYoo-ufS6uHtf9jOBllBQ4JvNoDzsCscjMNq_ZqV4d8A8e70nD1YelUlOMqjGjOVUN0rXddjdb81BNcQoDJ00yYQ/w640-h300/20220308_231752.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: times;">Having
watched, and enjoyed, the film, I really struggled with this version of the
story. Writer Philip Meeks has adapted the original short tale into a long,
rambling tale that doesn’t quite add up. Every person in Sleepy Hollow harbours
a deep, dark secret, including newcomer Ichabod. This makes for an incoherent
messy plot, which is exacerbated by not being able to hear what is being said.
Now it is very rare for me to go to Theatr Clwyd and not sit in either the
front row, or the row behind, so even if the sound engineer has messed up, I
can hear what is being said, but apart from Wendi Peters (Widow Mariette
Papenfuss) the dialogue was garbled, shouted rather than projected, and the
accents were all over the place.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">The play
started off well, it was atmospheric and built up a level of tension that you
would expect from gothic horror, but that quickly went downhill. I started to
wonder if the programme was an indication that this was jibe towards the genre.
The play lasted approximately two and a half hours and for a horror story it
was very tame and not at all scary. The only shivers I had down my spine were
from the lack of heating in the theatre. Lots of dry ice tried to create a
haunting and chilly atmosphere, but it quickly became an overused prop losing
its intensity. Equally the short scenes filled with strange song and dance
routines which were there to remind us we were in Sleepy Hollow, a scary place
filled with superstition and ritual, just felt out of place. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTc22LNsaV4ZTum_SR90xjRU_l_NrKwBYTZHWGHEFL8ZoXwA9PblDnzHWWAN-o59JbjtECHq6N3KYLOT0PJkQd4uYGs9rj9qyMo9l6HYxtNN-0_L5W7L8WnZXund6NUQO46vqXzJMqQJ0IUdHMXz2OLkszST7OEtvM3yXSayJGoHBxZdfoSJ8tZ8YsA/s3888/20220308_190852.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3040" data-original-width="3888" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTc22LNsaV4ZTum_SR90xjRU_l_NrKwBYTZHWGHEFL8ZoXwA9PblDnzHWWAN-o59JbjtECHq6N3KYLOT0PJkQd4uYGs9rj9qyMo9l6HYxtNN-0_L5W7L8WnZXund6NUQO46vqXzJMqQJ0IUdHMXz2OLkszST7OEtvM3yXSayJGoHBxZdfoSJ8tZ8YsA/w400-h313/20220308_190852.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: times;">Not
everything was bad though, there were some really good illusions, such as a
mysterious character switch which drew gasps of awe from the audience, and
Wendi Peters diving headfirst into the cellar had the audience clapping and
whooping, but most of the play left me and many audience members baffled. In
fact, the chap next to me was so confused by it all he decided he’d had enough
and left at the interval never to return.<br /><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">With
careful editing, this could be a great production. The first half hour could be
removed as most of what goes on adds little to the eventual tale. The storyline
is far too complicated trying to weave together the story of the headless
horseman with another American legend – that of the Wendigo, a creature that
can be summoned by mentioning its name. Then there is the story of sexual
identity acceptance…just because that message is going on in the world, it
doesn’t have to be shoehorned into every stage play. Thirdly there is the
exploration of man versus magic or conspiracy theories. Structure the
storyline, remove the meaningless dancing, concentrate on a clearer dialogue
without actors turning their backs to the audience and create a sense of foreboding
through the script rather than gimmicks. These tweaks would transform this
production into something well worth watching as opposed to the muddled stream
of thoughts I have just watched.</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Washington
Irving’s - The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Phillip Meeks <o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Theatr
Clwyd - </span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Theatr </span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Anthony Hopkins until 12<sup>th</sup> March 2022</span></b></p>
<h2 style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><a name="_Hlk108263482"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Widow
Mariette Papenfuss</span></b></a><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">: Wendi Peters<br />
Baltus Van Tassel: Bill Ward<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Ichabod
Crane: Sam Jackson<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">
Katrina Van Tassel: Rose Quentin<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Brom
“Bones” Van Brunt: Lewis Cope<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Joost De Groot:
Jon-Paul Rowden</span></b></h2>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<br />Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-3079085899154512032022-02-16T19:34:00.045+00:002022-09-03T23:41:25.080+01:00The Da Vinci Code, from the novel by Dan Brown – 15th February 2022 – Theatr Clwyd<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvZ60tNkUYRxiWjkIuCWWzNmAyYsLdY96FcQUcUL7egKUIJf8iknOg253QkuwSlSbE6id8xBHDPnaAc4iv22QQVVxS8fidH_5RBwJkvIVip2VQ_HcI7GIbEKQ4YbL7GvKTRMpBlr4dSPt87SpNMu3-ilQN7ufJtH-74NY2V5yjU2y6G4Gpwwkxi32SrA/s2076/20220827_203633.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2076" data-original-width="1480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvZ60tNkUYRxiWjkIuCWWzNmAyYsLdY96FcQUcUL7egKUIJf8iknOg253QkuwSlSbE6id8xBHDPnaAc4iv22QQVVxS8fidH_5RBwJkvIVip2VQ_HcI7GIbEKQ4YbL7GvKTRMpBlr4dSPt87SpNMu3-ilQN7ufJtH-74NY2V5yjU2y6G4Gpwwkxi32SrA/w229-h320/20220827_203633.jpg" width="229" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>I’ve read
Dan Brown’s thriller regarding Catholic conspiracy and murderous Opus Dei
monks, I’ve watched Ron Howard’s film adaptation, and now here I am watching
Luke Sheppard’s theatre adaptation. You would be forgiven for thinking I am a
mega-fan of Dan Brown, but you’d be wrong – much like the Harry Potter books, I
only read the Dan Brown novels because I didn’t want to miss out on what
everyone else was raving about. I was intrigued to see how all the complex plot
twists and turns would be negotiated on the stage, (plus Danny John-Jules, best
known for Red Dwarf, was due to tread the Theatr Clwyd boards!)</b></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">The
curator of the Louvre Museum in Paris, Jacques Sauniere, has been brutally
murdered. At the side of his body are a series of baffling codes, and more
importantly, a message to the police to find the symbologist Prof. Robert
Langdon. Nigel Harmon (Eastenders) played the role of Robert Langdon, the
professor and symbolist, and Hannah Rose Caton played his fellow fugitive and
police cryptologist Sophie Neveu who join forces to solve the complex puzzles.
Their quest leads them to the works of Leonardo da Vinci and into the depths of
history to solve both the murder and break a labyrinthine code so that a
historical secret is not lost forever.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbgpnbL5oI8vmNn3KZQQ1pTZNBBHMKm3FD66nke0aN7oYU0p4PxGKFbIev3qSgR_SAjqyZVU-zmGFe_WvsyTzniXgStCr6r6CNsVxvyzCHXU5JF6ANxWr3nJnczsCCiczvHDxHYlO_1Yykbyn1ZqHYd9GPcBNlCmTiJigxL--HPALgWc0zmnyStf5hOA/s4032/Da%20Vinci%20Code%20(12).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1960" data-original-width="4032" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbgpnbL5oI8vmNn3KZQQ1pTZNBBHMKm3FD66nke0aN7oYU0p4PxGKFbIev3qSgR_SAjqyZVU-zmGFe_WvsyTzniXgStCr6r6CNsVxvyzCHXU5JF6ANxWr3nJnczsCCiczvHDxHYlO_1Yykbyn1ZqHYd9GPcBNlCmTiJigxL--HPALgWc0zmnyStf5hOA/w640-h312/Da%20Vinci%20Code%20(12).jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">There is
little character development and none of the police chasing scenes you read in
the book, instead the strength of the production lies in David Woodhead’s set, Andrzej
Goulding’s video projections and Ben and Max Ringham’s electro music which
gives the show the energy and pace required to keep the intrigue going.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">On
entering the theatre, an enlarged Vitruvian Man dominates the stage, further
projections during the course of the play link the works of Leonardo da Vinci
to signify changes of place and time. The actors are seated against the side
walls, appearing now and again in cleverly choreographed pieces.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHOsPcKSvcDcSwtSOpHS8jwGn6aldKSwJIXvzh5982SOrJIX4VmHbHm5-AyY-5zG8PxMnYZNleIbAzorIjlwwljJgpT6mMaNH3A97vvF-L8w0wTW5lWSqRz21SqCMXhFDmaG-AVTDX_CYG9FBaqkJEs9s1QC1PJfv74aAyPBYlH8uG-1mS2W2Yvze_QQ/s7328/Da%20Vinci%20Code%20(3).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1952" data-original-width="7328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHOsPcKSvcDcSwtSOpHS8jwGn6aldKSwJIXvzh5982SOrJIX4VmHbHm5-AyY-5zG8PxMnYZNleIbAzorIjlwwljJgpT6mMaNH3A97vvF-L8w0wTW5lWSqRz21SqCMXhFDmaG-AVTDX_CYG9FBaqkJEs9s1QC1PJfv74aAyPBYlH8uG-1mS2W2Yvze_QQ/s16000/Da%20Vinci%20Code%20(3).jpg" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">Of course,
we’re still in Covid times, and it was disappointing to see that Danny
John-Jules was unable to join the cast in Mold, and instead he was replaced by
Andrew Lewis to play the key role of Sir Leigh Teabing, an expert on the Holy
Grail. This change of cast did not detract from the play at all as this is a
strong cast, with members playing a variety of roles throughout. Joshua Lacey
needs a shout out playing the murderous monk, Silas; he looms over the
proceedings with a dark foreboding and the scene of self-torture is both
disturbing and believable.</span></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBtGqTFBNw1vs6csF53BWkxYQtV3RVRsmpzmQjl7PQEgSmHtNt80MerncBfO7C_IoCn5g7HHBntEQ55fgWe9h-pDaODoI6Qdrf4-yQlcmmsR_X0VxviZW1kwzaAo4JuopgKb7fZmcDjREOk2QDSi7TUfAu3SPCCP0F3n_FR4ebne1pjD99AsVdE3UHpA/s2990/Da%20Vinci%20Code%20(10).jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2990" data-original-width="2675" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBtGqTFBNw1vs6csF53BWkxYQtV3RVRsmpzmQjl7PQEgSmHtNt80MerncBfO7C_IoCn5g7HHBntEQ55fgWe9h-pDaODoI6Qdrf4-yQlcmmsR_X0VxviZW1kwzaAo4JuopgKb7fZmcDjREOk2QDSi7TUfAu3SPCCP0F3n_FR4ebne1pjD99AsVdE3UHpA/w358-h400/Da%20Vinci%20Code%20(10).jpg" width="358" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: times;">The
production is slick and fast-paced as you would expect, however, sit tight
through the second half, because if you thought the first half was fast, then
the second half is like a tornedo whipping through you. There is no time to
relax during this 2 hour rollercoaster ride, if your mind wanders elsewhere for
a second you will miss a vital part of the plot, and there’s no rewind button
in the theatre! It’s a shame really, because the key part of the book was the mystery
and unravelling thereof, whereas the play feels too rushed and things don’t
quite add up. It was an ambitious undertaking to bring this story to the stage,
and whilst it was an enjoyable evening and the play was definitely worth
watching, it does need a few tweaks here and there to balance the original
mystery and the final reveal. </span><br /><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times;">One thing
I almost took literally from my previous visit to Theatr Clwyd was taking a hot
water bottle with me. It’s not often I feel the cold, but with the current
renovations* going on, the Anthony Hopkins Theatre is blummin freezing. I
thought I’d been clever putting on two pairs of socks, vest, t-shirt and jumper
but no, during the interval the coat had to come on. Not a great look from the
front row, but hearing someone’s teeth chattering is probably a distraction for
the actors too! <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The Da
Vinci Code, from the novel by Dan Brown <o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Theatr
Clwyd – Anthony Hopkins Theatre</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<h2 style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Robert
Langdon: Nigel Harman (Chris Harper from 26<sup>th</sup> April 2022 to 30<sup>th</sup>
July 2022)<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">
Vernet: Basienka Blake<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">
Remy: Alasdair Buchan<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Sophie: Hannah
Rose Caton<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">
Sir Leigh Teabing: Danny John-Jules<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Fache:
Alpha Kargbo<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Silas:
Joshua Lacey<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Sauniere:
Andrew Lewis<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Collet:
Leigh Lothian<br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Sister
Sandrine: Debra Michaels</span></b></h2><div><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><br /></span></b></div><div></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 4;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">*Theatr
Clwyd is undergoing a major renovation project - see link for details <a href="https://www.theatrclwyd.com/raise-the-roof" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">https://www.theatrclwyd.com/raise-the-roof</a><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 4;"><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 4;"><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 4;"><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 4;"><b><br /></b></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-69040761262141166662022-02-09T22:47:00.014+00:002022-09-03T23:41:14.449+01:00Same Time Next Year by Bernard Slade – 8th February 2022 – Theatr Clwyd (Anthony Hopkins Theatre)<b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh312Immp0gcIl4zHl3Yiq0ZrM9WCIO27dqeJTDdoPMo0swrR6GUfl3bJtcfTDrBPUtNfsBvzCThHACLdyJUwjtDRCeoPNwgNylZSYVrBu-z50VDZCwCZloVeJUJcxp3925Ss4kCcnuOYi5Qm-TBaoU0V-ySVZgfqJhFTqRJ0VkbVIQzgEBtydnWIps7g/s3189/Same%20Time,%20Next%20Year.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3189" data-original-width="2268" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh312Immp0gcIl4zHl3Yiq0ZrM9WCIO27dqeJTDdoPMo0swrR6GUfl3bJtcfTDrBPUtNfsBvzCThHACLdyJUwjtDRCeoPNwgNylZSYVrBu-z50VDZCwCZloVeJUJcxp3925Ss4kCcnuOYi5Qm-TBaoU0V-ySVZgfqJhFTqRJ0VkbVIQzgEBtydnWIps7g/w456-h640/Same%20Time,%20Next%20Year.jpg" width="456" /></a></div>1951, and a chance encounter in a Californian hotel leads to more than just a passionate one-night stand. George and Doris are two happily married people…the problem is, they’re not married to each other. This chance encounter is the start of something, and as the title of the play makes clear, the couple agree to meet up once a year, in the same place, for a no-strings-attached fun and frivolous fling. And so begins a love affair that will continue for 25 years. </b><div><br /></div><div>The opening scene perfectly conveys the awkward embarrassment of George, a New Jersey accountant, and Doris, a bored housewife, as they wake up and realisation dawns on them that they have committed adultery three times in one night. George can’t even get Doris’s name right! You can’t help but laugh and squirm in your seat as George and Doris, played by Kieran Buckeridge and Sarah Kempton realise they have thrown their marriage vows into the wind for a night of drunken debauchery. Or have they? They don’t feel guilty, and vow that they will not keep in touch with other, but they will make a pact to meet “Same Time, Next Year.” </div><div><br /></div><div>We rejoin this pair of star-crossed lovers five years later in the same guest cottage of the country inn in Northern California where they first met. Both were surprised that the other turned up on the first anniversary, but five years later, the two realise their initial spark can’t be dampened. <span><a name='more'></a></span></div><div><br /></div><div>This two-hander rom-com takes place in Two Acts, chronicling Doris and George’s journey on a specific day in February 1951, 1956, 1961, 1965, 1970 and 1975. In each self-contained scene we begin to know more about Doris and George’s families, their lives outside of this annual bubble, and the changes happening in American society. The decades Slade chose to set his play in were times of quite dramatic change. People were becoming more prosperous, the fight for women’s rights were taking hold, and anti-war campaigns were being fought. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIF0wbabBg03-2Qv6Poq5K09R7-dJgGGGsNWHy1VX1krSXHWB2RV5stMX7TFp06E68zTxEG8jjqH4eBZa6Lb3CS4Wq_oR_keykn6jVl23VeHxdXqeHPnmQKceNAZFvPnYjwl2QZl007AhPhKILArkuNeU4m1mUbyQuoB2ZGKhmNiPNSo-Kgx3vwoeqxA/s5616/Same%20Time%20Next%20Year%20(5).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2192" data-original-width="5616" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIF0wbabBg03-2Qv6Poq5K09R7-dJgGGGsNWHy1VX1krSXHWB2RV5stMX7TFp06E68zTxEG8jjqH4eBZa6Lb3CS4Wq_oR_keykn6jVl23VeHxdXqeHPnmQKceNAZFvPnYjwl2QZl007AhPhKILArkuNeU4m1mUbyQuoB2ZGKhmNiPNSo-Kgx3vwoeqxA/w640-h250/Same%20Time%20Next%20Year%20(5).jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>Director Michael Cabot has done a fantastic job of taking Doris and George, on a mesmerising journey. It’s a difficult task to take on a 25-year ageing process, but both characters are completely believable. Each scene opens with music relevant to the year, ending with the 1975’s disco beats. George is very conservative in his approach to fashion and remains in, more or less, the same suit throughout the decades, although for the 70’s he does sport an interesting moustache and bell bottom jeans! But it is Doris, who with each meeting, changes the most. It is not only with the changing face of fashion, but her outlook on life and her views changes as things happen in her home life and she seeks to make something better of herself as many women did during those years. It is as though George is meeting a reincarnation of Doris, rather than the woman he had that first romantic tryst with. </div><div><br /></div><div>With each meeting, both tell a good story and a bad story about their spouses. It felt so genuine watching two people rant about the way their husband or wife drove them mad, but at the same time not forgetting that they still loved them despite their flaws. Both actors were remarkable in their roles and the exchanges between them were completely organic, which is why in Act Two when the light-hearted banter is suddenly exchanged for moments of sadness and reflection, the reaction of the audience was palpable. </div><div><br /></div><div>The play is set in an era where there are no mobile phones or social media. The annual meetings are given a plausible excuse; an annual business meeting; an annual religious retreat, so their spouses will not suspect anything untoward. You would think the couple wouldn’t have that much in common to catch up on, but both are married with children, and both have aspirations and unfulfilled ambitions that they can only discuss with one another. So, life during the year carries on as normal, then with each annual meeting a whole year’s news is conveyed to each other. Of course, as they both age, the news transcends from amusing stories to more truthful and tragic anecdotes, and as both find out, a hell of a lot can happen in a year. <div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5A_xIdGNVJa_ymQQ0LS57Gq2Ei27OiPp8k_nbtGCa0Gh4LvCmVw5KiIn6svzgFuBLx71vWcf2Dmu4B8NVWEvK57CpRRQ27E4b6_eV35er6JxRuG88MDIJX7zTFGW2G-f5jQoLNZk19Qc9CxAB_Kbf9s9tK6yyQSsPGy0H-b1wLKHmf4w17xZaYSLWQ/s3464/Picsart_22-08-27_15-34-36-475.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3464" data-original-width="3464" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5A_xIdGNVJa_ymQQ0LS57Gq2Ei27OiPp8k_nbtGCa0Gh4LvCmVw5KiIn6svzgFuBLx71vWcf2Dmu4B8NVWEvK57CpRRQ27E4b6_eV35er6JxRuG88MDIJX7zTFGW2G-f5jQoLNZk19Qc9CxAB_Kbf9s9tK6yyQSsPGy0H-b1wLKHmf4w17xZaYSLWQ/w640-h640/Picsart_22-08-27_15-34-36-475.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong><span face="Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #333333; padding: 0cm;">Images: Sheila Burnett</span></strong><span face=""Helvetica",sans-serif" style="color: #333333; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>The Canadian playwright Bernard Slade has painted a nostalgic, bittersweet comedic portrait of two very likable protagonists who find themselves in a very unusual relationship. He has explored the ups and downs of meeting the right person at the wrong moment with a warmth and affection that both actors conveyed so well. This is not a moralistic tale or one asking for you condone the breaking of the sanctity of marriage, it is purely for entertainment, and as we ride the highs and lows of both characters’ lives, it’s a bit of a balm for the soul and perfect for anyone in need of a night of laughter.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;">Same Time, Next Year by Bernard Slade, Theatr Clwyd
</span></b></span><b style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 25.68px;">Theatr </span></b><b style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;">Anthony Hopkins until 18<sup>th</sup> February 2022.</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 4;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">George: Kieran
Buckeridge<br />
Doris: Sarah Kempton</span><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Theatr Clwyd</b><br />
8 – 12 February 2022<br />
<a href="https://www.theatrclwyd.com/" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">BOOK TICKETS</span></b></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Theatre Royal Bury St Edmunds</b><br />
15 – 19 February 2022<br />
<a href="http://www.theatreroyal.org/" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">BOOK TICKETS</span></b></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>The landmark Ilfracombe</b><br />
22 – 23 February 2022<br />
<a href="https://www.landmark-ilfracombe.com/" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">BOOK TICKETS</span></b></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>South Hill Park Bracknell</b><br />
25 – 26 February 2022<br />
<a href="http://www.southhillpark.org.uk/" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">BOOK TICKETS</span></b></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Derby Theatre</b><br />
8 – 12 March 2022<br />
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<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Lighthouse Poole</b><br />
25 – 26 March 2022<br />
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<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Devonshire Park Theatre Eastbourne</b><br />
5 – 9 April 2022<br />
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<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>New Nic Newcastle Under Lyme</b><br />
12 – 16 April 2022<br />
<a href="http://www.newvictheatre.org.uk/" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">BOOK TICKETS</span></b></a></span><span class="MsoHyperlink"><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p></div>
Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-65332261031359798902022-02-05T18:30:00.000+00:002022-02-05T18:30:19.727+00:00The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea by Axie Oh <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jJttTizl2N4/YaubREq4K6I/AAAAAAAARVM/AWs1qxMq3v0oMJTd2m0KtntCBaOY6g55ACNcBGAsYHQ/s495/The%2BGirl%2BWho%2BFell%2BBeneath%2BThe%2BSea%2BAxie%2BOh.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="495" data-original-width="315" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jJttTizl2N4/YaubREq4K6I/AAAAAAAARVM/AWs1qxMq3v0oMJTd2m0KtntCBaOY6g55ACNcBGAsYHQ/w408-h640/The%2BGirl%2BWho%2BFell%2BBeneath%2BThe%2BSea%2BAxie%2BOh.png" width="408" /></a></div>It’s not that often that I opt to read teenage fiction, but when
this gorgeous book cover dropped in my inbox, I couldn’t resist giving this
short but engaging book a chance.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 107%;">The Girl
Who Fell Beneath the Sea </span>(Due for publication 22nd February 2022 by Feiwel & Friends) is a magical feminist retelling of the
classic Korean legend of Shim Cheong, the Devoted Daughter:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="color: #1f4e79; font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #1F4E79; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=50000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent5; mso-themecolor: accent5; mso-themeshade: 128;">The myth states that
Shim Cheong’s mother died when she was born, and her father was blind and
unable to work. One day her father was crossing a bridge when he fell into a
river, a passing monk saw the man drowning and jumped into the river and saved
him. The monk told the blind man that if he offered Buddha three hundred seoks
of rice, he would regain his eyesight.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="color: #1f4e79; font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #1F4E79; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=50000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent5; mso-themecolor: accent5; mso-themeshade: 128;">The blind man could
not afford to buy so much rice, but when he told his daughter, she knew what
she had to do. She had heard that some sailors would pay good money for a girl
as an offering to the Sea-God. Rather than tell her father the truth, she told
him a family had agreed to adopt her and she left with the sailors. Shim Cheong
jumped into the roaring sea as a sacrifice. When she awoke, she was unaware
where she was, but a voice told her she was in the Sea King’s palace, and he
was so moved by her tale that he had ordered she be returned to the land of her
birth.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="color: #1f4e79; font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; mso-style-textfill-fill-alpha: 100.0%; mso-style-textfill-fill-color: #1F4E79; mso-style-textfill-fill-colortransforms: lumm=50000; mso-style-textfill-fill-themecolor: accent5; mso-themecolor: accent5; mso-themeshade: 128;">Shim Cheong was
returned to the sea in a lotus blossom where she was found by the sailors. They
presented the lotus blossom to their king and when he touched it Shin Cheong
walked out. The King fell in love with Shin Cheong and they were married, but
he couldn’t help notice her sadness. She told the king her story and so he
threw a party for all the blind people in the country in the hope of finding
her father. Her father was still blind, despite his offering to Buddha, so he
arrived at the party and was reunited with his daughter and they all lived
happily ever after.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Deadly
storms. An ancient curse. Will her sacrifice save them all?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Axie Oh has taken the basis of Korea’s famous legend and given
the tale a new protagonist, Mina. For generations, deadly storms have ravaged
Mina’s homeland. Her people believe the Sea God, once their protector, now
curses them with death and despair. To appease him, each year they choose a young
woman to be thrown into the sea, in the hopes that one day the ‘true bride’ of
the Sea King will be chosen and his love and affection for his new bride will
bring an end to the suffering.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The people have chosen Shim Cheong to be the legendary true
bride, but she and Mina’s beloved elder brother Joon are already in love. On
the night Cheong is to be sacrificed to the Sea God, Joon follows her out to
sea, despite knowing that to interfere with the sacrifice carries a death
sentence. Mina loves her brother a great deal and cannot bear to witness how
sad her brother is, so she follows her brother, and when the times comes for
Shin Cheong to be sacrificed, Mina throws herself into the waves instead.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Mina is swept away to the Spirit Realm, a magical city of
lesser gods and mythical beasts. Here she finds the Sea God, trapped in an
enchanted sleep. With the help of a mysterious young man and a motley crew of
demons, gods and spirits, Mina, who remains in human form, sets out to wake him
and bring an end to the storms once and for all. The clock is ticking…a human
cannot live long in the land of the spirits and there are many in the Spirit
Realm who would do anything to keep the Sea God from waking…<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>“The myths of my people say
only a true bride of the Sea God can bring an end to his insatiable wrath. When
the otherworldly storms rise from the East Sea, lightning breaking the sky and
waters ripping up the shore, a bride is chosen and given to the Sea God.<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>Or sacrificed, depending on the
measure of your faith.<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>Every year the storms begin and
every year a girl is brought to the sea. I can’t help wondering if Shim Cheong
believes in the myth of the Sea God’s Bride. If she’ll find comfort in it
before the end.<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>Or perhaps she sees it as a
beginning. There are many pathways destiny can take.<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>For instance, there’s my own
path—the literal path before me, stretching narrowly through the waterlogged
rice fields. If I follow this path, it’ll eventually lead me to the beach. If I
turn around, the path will take me back to the village.<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>Which destiny belongs to me?
Which destiny will I grasp onto with both hands?<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>Even if it were up to choice,
it wouldn’t really be mine to make. For though a large part of me longs for the
safety of home, the pull of my heart is infinitely stronger. It tugs me toward
the open sea and to the one person I love beyond destiny.<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>My brother, Joon”<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m surprised by how much I enjoyed I this book. The plot
was engaging, as were the characters, and the book was never overly
sentimental. Mina was a compassionate character who cared a lot about her
family and her people. Entering the realm of the Sea God allowed Mina to face
some harsh truths and secrets, but with the help of the friends she made on the
way she was able to come to terms with the realities of life. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Shin, who she first meets in the palace of the Sea King is equally
compassionate, and as their lives begin to intertwine, he offers his own wisdom
of the world to Mina. Shin’s arc is an interesting one. You never know whether Mina
would be safer with or without him, and this relationship is intrinsic to the
storyline, so it’s important that the author has balanced the storyline so well
between them.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>He lifts his gaze and his eyes
are like the deepest part of the sea, cold and unknowable. I realize, his eyes
do more to hide his thoughts than his mask does to hide his face.<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>“But I can explain it to you,”
he continues. “Your people suffer not because of any great will of the gods,
but because of their own violent acts. They wage the wars that burn the forests
and fields. They spill the blood that pollutes the rivers and streams. To blame
the gods is to blame the land itself. Look upon your reflection to find your
enemy.”<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>His words ring out across the
hall with a bone-chilling truth<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 54.4pt; text-align: justify;">Whilst the
story is set in a fictional fantasy land, the morals held within the tale are
an honest reflection on the world in which we live, and it gives food for
thought. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 54.4pt; text-align: justify;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>My elder brother, Sung, says
trust is earned, that to give someone your trust is to give them the knife to
wound you. But Joon would counter that trust is faith, that to trust someone is
to believe in the goodness of people and in the world that shapes them<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 54.4pt;">I gave great reflection to the
above passage. As I’ve grown older I’ve met many people. Some have gone onto be
trusted friends, others have shown their true colours and no longer form part
of my life. That is to be human. People have asked if I have any regrets, do I
miss those people and I say no. People entered my life, I trusted them, I had
some good times, they betrayed that faith and now they are gone from my social
sphere. If I hadn’t allowed myself to trust them into my life, then I wouldn’t
have some amazing happy memories to look back upon. But people change, groups
do inevitably splinter; perhaps nowadays more quickly than ever, but that isn’t
a good enough reason to not put your faith in a person. The world doesn’t revolve
around people, they are just a tiny part of it, and this books allows us to
question ourselves, our morality, and how we can change for the better.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 54.4pt;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>“But it’s supposed to be a
circle, isn’t it? The gods protect the humans and the humans pray and honor the
gods.”<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: 36.0pt; margin-right: 54.4pt; margin-top: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b>“That’s just like a human to
think the world revolves around you, to think the rivers are for you, the sky,
the sea is for you. You are just one of many parts of the world, and in my
opinion, the one that blights them all.”<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background:; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB; padding: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background:; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB; padding: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i>This is a book which surpassed my
expectations, which is always a delight. Had it not been for the beautifully
illustrated cover, I doubt I would have given this short novel a second glance.
It is a book which magically weaves poetry and proverbs into a tale which isn’t
stuck in the past but is relevant for today’s society. In fact, it probably
comes at just the right time as the themes of kindness and looking out for one
another are needed now more than ever. As daily news briefings show societies rebelling
against Covid rules, this book serves as a reminder that we should look out for
others not always ourselves, and that by doing what is right, gives you more
strength and ultimately benefits you in the end. Whilst the book is aimed at young
adults, that shouldn’t scare anyone getting lot in the adventures of Mina,
Shin, Namgi, Kirin, Mask, Dai and Miki.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="background:; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;">Thank you to Hatchett
UK for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.</span><o:p></o:p></i></b></p>
<p style="background:; margin: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; padding: 0cm;">Genre:</span></strong><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> Young Adult Fantasy, Romance</span><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background:; margin: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; padding: 0cm;">Publishing Date: </span></strong><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">22nd February 2022</span><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background:; margin: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong><span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; padding: 0cm;">No. of Pages:</span></strong><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> 336</span><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-39184643977767175992021-10-21T23:25:00.036+01:002022-08-27T16:26:35.195+01:00Isla – 18th October 2021 – Theatr Clwyd<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisnfoWiB-0Nz824UQOrqEypOiiqOkNw1Dp9Dkh8inWWSRZ7zZhhyqLAHezcpKBdJkh2qddtMnvjXgM__BjhDoo2SeQlm88w5h2zjggLjVbJ4oxVBwXjw_X1jOtirh9iSIsohAoCMQSJrIwa1NFpTVPsj77Nq_pZXCFO2BSvuR6KqTt0ulBbIjgG2AAyw=s2380" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2380" data-original-width="1949" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEisnfoWiB-0Nz824UQOrqEypOiiqOkNw1Dp9Dkh8inWWSRZ7zZhhyqLAHezcpKBdJkh2qddtMnvjXgM__BjhDoo2SeQlm88w5h2zjggLjVbJ4oxVBwXjw_X1jOtirh9iSIsohAoCMQSJrIwa1NFpTVPsj77Nq_pZXCFO2BSvuR6KqTt0ulBbIjgG2AAyw=w524-h640" width="524" /></a></div>I have a love hate relationship with technology. When I was
at university in the 90’s, those around me worked on computers whilst I had an
electronic typewriter that seemed to have a mind of its own. I think I was
nearly 30 before I finally succumbed to enter the modern age and buy myself a
laptop.<p></p><p>When I was driving somewhere new, I would study my map book – I would
work out which route I was to take and write down the major junctions I needed on post-it notes which I’d stick to my dashboard…discarding each one as
I travelled along my hosen route. Now of course it’s much easier, I never bought a Satnav but I have become reliant on Google Maps on my
phone…or as I call it Satnav Woman. </p><p>Satnav Woman is brilliant...until she
isn’t. She can tell you which route to take and then reroute if there’s an
accident or heavy traffic ahead, but she can also be a bit slow telling you
where to go, or perhaps a little unclear in her meanings. And then there are the
times when she just won’t listen. It’s times like these that Satnav Woman and I will get into a little spat.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">SATNAV:
“Make a U-turn.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">ME: “I
can’t – there are cones down the centre of the road.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">SATNAV:
“Make a U-turn.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Me: “I
can’t, it clearly states no U-turn on the signs ahead.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">SATNAV:
“Make a U-turn.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">ME: <i>clearly very agitated</i> “Which part of <i><u>I CAN’T</u></i> don’t you understand you
stupid Bi**h?”</span><span style="font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Now I’ve always thought of my interactions with Satnav Woman
mildly entertaining. I mean why would you lose your temper with an inanimate
object? It makes no sense, and in a rational world you wouldn’t. But perhaps we
don’t live in a rational world anymore. Perhaps it’s normal to start shouting “what do
you mean” when she’s telling you to “keep left to go right at the fork.”
Perhaps I’ve been looking at my interactions with Satnav Woman all wrong.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Isla, a new play by Tim Price, is a co-production between
Theatr Clwyd and the Royal Court and directed by Theatr Clwyd’s Tamara Harvey.
It explores the relationship between a man and a voice activated digital
assistant during the period of lockdown. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Roger’s daughter, Erin, is concerned that her father will be
alone during the pandemic and that he’ll forget to take his daily medication.
She buys him Isla (think Alexa or Siri) and she will help Roger with his
shopping orders, relay telephone calls to him when he has mislaid his ‘phone,
remind him to take his tablets each morning – she can even play music when he’s
feeling a bit lonesome. Roger is not convinced and explains to Erin (Lisa
Zahra) that he takes his statins every morning as soon as the morning newspaper
is delivered. He has his own routine; he doesn’t need her interfering in his
life.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Erin is clearly worried about her father and concerned that
during the pandemic she won’t be able to pop in as freely as she used to. They must
keep their distance, so Isla will be a great help. Despite her persuasive attitude,
Roger (Mark Lambert) is not convinced, he doesn’t want this technology
infiltrating his life, he’s not ready to embrace this new world, and we witness
the hilarity and hatred of the digital age as he tries to interact with this
machine, literally pulling the plug on it as it continues to frustrate him. But
soon stubbornness becomes inquisitiveness and Isla is plugged back in. Roger is
in lockdown, he can’t interact with people anymore and as loneliness takes
hold, he begins to have conversations with Isla. First of all he asks simple
questions and he is taken aback by Isla’s breadth of knowledge, and soon quiz
questions turn into shared memories with her, he voices his concerns, his
anxieties, his frustrations at not being able to interact with living human
souls. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There is a particularly poignant moment when Roger asks Isla
to phone his daughter as he desperately wants to talk to her, but he knows she
is busy at work, so he tells Isla to stop the call. He then asks her to make
the call…then stop the call. This struggle between wanting to speak to his
daughter but equally not wanting to be a burden is heart wrenching and shows
that technology can never replace the importance of human interaction. We
suddenly have such empathy for Roger that we are shocked by what happens next.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Lambert is superb as Roger; we spend each passing day in his
company, witnessing the daily monotony of the newspaper delivery, boiling the
kettle for a morning cuppa, taking medication; a never-ending cycle of the
humdrum of life. A life spent yearning for normality to return…for a father to
be able to hug his daughter. We’re called to think about the loneliness of the
elderly, how the young are slaves to the workplace if they want to achieve
anything, and how today’s modern living can mean relinquishing your privacy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Kind, sweet, lonely Roger starts to throw a curve ball, he’s
become so used to Isla he now throws the same casual abuse at it as I have
often done to my Satnav. Casual abuse turns into sexist phrases. But this is a
machine, you can’t demean a machine, there’s no harm in a light bit of banter
is there? Maybe not for Isla, but Erin used her account to set up the digital
assistant for her father – his words become her words, and words have dire consequences.
A new layer of complexity is added to the play, a darker more thought-provoking
piece of writing. As Catrin Aaron, the voice of Isla, appears on stage in
police uniform, you realise that words do have consequences when they are
misapplied. Roger is quizzed by PC Jones about the language he has been using,
the meaning of the words he has chosen to direct at Isla, the intention that
they imply. All too soon we must consider the harsh reality of the links
between hate speech and domestic violence. It seems a far reach, but then
consider that until very recently, digital assistants have been female. Female
names, female voices…servants by any other name and therefore to be treated as
dirt. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It's an interesting question why digital assistants have
always been female. Some companies have advised it is because the human brain
is developed to like female voices; but we know women receive criticism for
being “screechy” so this excuse doesn’t really work. Microsoft said it found a
female voice to best embody the qualities expected of the digital
assistant—helpful, supportive, and trustworthy. Perhaps the real truth of the
matter is that companies don’t want to admit to gender bias. A digital assistant
is there to be bossed about, Alexa do this, Cortana do that…and up until
recently, society expected women to fulfil these roles. And if you lose your
temper to a female device, why can’t that spill over into a real domestic setting?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Whilst we don’t see Lambert and Zahra on stage together for
much of the play, we still get a sense of their deep connection as father and
daughter, and it makes the final scenes even more important, showing that a
machine can’t give the love and support that a person needs. Digital assistants...anyone got a hammer?!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Isla by Tim Price <a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/isla-9781350280427/" target="_blank">https://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/isla-9781350280427/</a><o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Theatr Clwyd - Emlyn Williams Theatre until 6<sup>th</sup>
November 2021<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<h4 style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><b>Roger: Mark Lambert<br /></b><b>Erin: Lisa Zahra<br /></b><b>Isla/PC Jones: Catrin Aaron</b></h4><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Isla has come to BBC4. </b><b>Watch the TV version starring the same cast on the BBC </b></div><div><b>i-player <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m0018b47" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m0018b47</a></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div>
Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-56750396952615124982021-10-16T23:25:00.034+01:002022-02-18T17:33:36.206+00:00Absurd Person Singular by Alan Ayckbourn– 12th October 2021 – Theatr Clwyd<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEibiRhyViPYICmgZH10NEM6zvx-PuLi-eo0J79Yb6eZVT3uICfjSST-XM6iNNHpb9GEeD4scIbKs8FalDLyvScBKu6806EtfPxpCW2i2T4bTzm6IaPJqA072hmGPHMLjcSxgGtbPDiBr5sfQIfQQowkFz9RzQ2tzDzjFf6XJ9M0nYDSegIoL7kL-yvB6A=s2641" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2641" data-original-width="1909" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEibiRhyViPYICmgZH10NEM6zvx-PuLi-eo0J79Yb6eZVT3uICfjSST-XM6iNNHpb9GEeD4scIbKs8FalDLyvScBKu6806EtfPxpCW2i2T4bTzm6IaPJqA072hmGPHMLjcSxgGtbPDiBr5sfQIfQQowkFz9RzQ2tzDzjFf6XJ9M0nYDSegIoL7kL-yvB6A=w462-h640" width="462" /></a></div><b>Three married couples. Three kitchens. Three Christmas parties. <br /></b><br />Yes, I know it’s October and I’ve mentioned the “C” word, but forgive me, this was another of those long-awaited productions delayed by covid that I’ve been itching to see and believe me it could have been worse; when the tour started in Derby they were having Christmas in June!<br /><br />Sidney Hopcroft doesn’t have much going for him, he’s uneducated, charmless, a local tradesman, but he has a will and a desire to succeed. His wife Jane is the typical suburban 1970’s housewife, lacking ambition and maintaining a spotless home. And I do mean spotless. The play opens in the Hopcroft’s kitchen and Jane is cleaning. Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. Everything must be perfect tonight; somehow, Sidney has persuaded her to throw a Christmas Eve party to impress his bank manager and a local architect.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi-mw1vF9WUmFG1GEZqML4QjeiAGBlD3vobZGG_NFSI50DnJlCtS1_95AenMs6bl6xWa2DrdA2Un2nehxOTC1aJhHvIosp0fNKFlHlrnKdY_xh3D-gOP5GXdjei3pKI4QgrlhE84dYcjsdaSSDsj08wfqITgZJCStLAVJad98SrjWPfwSADq03YIbL44g=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1960" data-original-width="4032" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi-mw1vF9WUmFG1GEZqML4QjeiAGBlD3vobZGG_NFSI50DnJlCtS1_95AenMs6bl6xWa2DrdA2Un2nehxOTC1aJhHvIosp0fNKFlHlrnKdY_xh3D-gOP5GXdjei3pKI4QgrlhE84dYcjsdaSSDsj08wfqITgZJCStLAVJad98SrjWPfwSADq03YIbL44g=w640-h312" width="640" /></a></div>As the celebrations begin, unsurprisingly, these three odd couples all end up in the kitchen – I mean this is a party and all the best parties I’ve ever frequented have ended up in the kitchen. You can tell a lot about someone from their kitchen or at least that’s what banker Ronald and his wife Marion think. This tiny, bright orange Formica kitchen might not be to everyone’s taste, certainly not Marion’s, but it is spotlessly clean, and it has simple mod cons like an automatic washing machine which Jane is so excited to tell her guests about. Chaos reigns supreme and the atmosphere changes from quiet anticipation to hilarity as the audience witness the comic capers of the Hopcroft’s as they desperately try to win over the Jacksons and Brewster-Wrights.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhXJh0XYudAbuWFFfmrhQtUpfIUSdnhECBlothm6WEGW_qAHWeYxQlnwp5kHpuS85jBihhoOur2ZGXnZbGAdMOcv43HxxRn-6Yzt6jXRtQzMVxE7_LDkxY0eZbsecty6a6wh_NPbD2eGoETjDQ2CnXj9IJx9QMLIq8jUFK5Qvv5usBd-iNv5Kl-Cm3nYA=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1960" data-original-width="4032" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhXJh0XYudAbuWFFfmrhQtUpfIUSdnhECBlothm6WEGW_qAHWeYxQlnwp5kHpuS85jBihhoOur2ZGXnZbGAdMOcv43HxxRn-6Yzt6jXRtQzMVxE7_LDkxY0eZbsecty6a6wh_NPbD2eGoETjDQ2CnXj9IJx9QMLIq8jUFK5Qvv5usBd-iNv5Kl-Cm3nYA=w640-h312" width="640" /></a></div>How many people does it take to change a lightbulb? Six according to Alan Ayckbourn - one to try committing an act of suicide and five to be so self-absorbed that they don’t notice. It’s a year later, and it’s the turn of architect Geoffrey Jackson and his wife Eva to host the Christmas festivities. Eva is sat in a more upmarket traditional pine kitchen, it feels more spacious than the Hopcroft’s kitchen, but void of any personality. There’s no automatic washing machine here, instead laundry is dumped in a basket in the corner; the oven is filthy and crumpled bits of paper adorn the floor. Sat at a cluttered kitchen table, Eva is penning a suicide note, but her husband is too wrapped up rummaging through the cupboards trying to find some drinks for the evening’s party which he’d forgotten about. Enter Jane, wearing slightly better clothes than last year, but still obsessively cleaning. As Geoffrey and Eva’s world is falling apart, she fills a bowl with water and merrily chats and sings to herself as she scrubs their oven clean, blissfully unaware of the dark torment raging in Eva’s head. Helen Keeley deserves a special mention for the way she managed to convey so much emotion as the catatonically depressed Eva, despite remaining mute for most of Act Two.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg5StP09gsp1aqdwL0jcRq3_td3wsbvivY7sL-U3qNyk5RLfPnwF5HzLI6OVv98-E8p9D1X3YVwNBwscO68RdTxcfTgiIX9fomq5M7GiHxrN9W16atZSsSG8_10F8xtyUEaXOJAFL1y1s7o1_R-Kp4ofhV5DHdW8r8ZuUhnS8V7nzJfj2TCLeOvuwpXVw=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1960" data-original-width="4032" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg5StP09gsp1aqdwL0jcRq3_td3wsbvivY7sL-U3qNyk5RLfPnwF5HzLI6OVv98-E8p9D1X3YVwNBwscO68RdTxcfTgiIX9fomq5M7GiHxrN9W16atZSsSG8_10F8xtyUEaXOJAFL1y1s7o1_R-Kp4ofhV5DHdW8r8ZuUhnS8V7nzJfj2TCLeOvuwpXVw=w640-h312" width="640" /></a></div>The third and final Christmas and more cracks are beginning to show as the tables have turned on the fortunes of our three couples. A quick transformation of the stage and we’re sitting in the freezing dining room, just off the kitchen, of the Brewster-Wrights. Eva has transformed from the suicidal blond to the supportive friend to the alcoholic Marion who no longer cares about her appearance and is oblivious to the cold as she flounces around in her nightdress. <br /><br />Ronald’s bank now depends on the deposits from Sidney whose business has slowly and steadily grown. After the literal collapse of one of Geoffrey’s architectural designs, he is now dependent on working on Sidney’s housing projects – something that he poured scorn on only a few years earlier. But needs must if you want to keep the roof over your head. The comic twists and poignant moments take another turn as the Jacksons and Brewster-Wrights pretend to not be at home when the Hopcroft’s arrive. <br /><br />There’s an element of Chekhov despair drifting throughout the play; Sidney and his little wife were a joke, their role was to flatter the egos of their betters; but now, they are the ones calling the shots. During the last act Sidney, once nervous and desperate to find favour, has a newfound confidence and has everyone dancing to his own tune as he demands that everyone plays his party games. He has brought gifts, knowing full well the compliment can no longer be reciprocated. He did what he had to do in the 1970’s get rich culture to make something of himself, whilst the lazy banker and architect let the grass grow under their feet and their wives found solace at the bottom of a bottle of gin or a packet of anti-depressants. Let’s hope Sidney remembers what rises to the top can quickly sink to the bottom if he’s not careful.<br /><br />Just like Dickens’ ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future, Absurd Person Singular takes you on a journey of self-awareness; but rather than a selfish man trying to redeem himself, this play takes you on an emotional roller coaster through the nuances of the different classes, how they look at themselves and each other, and it gives a comic nod to the dangers of holding social gatherings. This is not a play stuck in the 1970’s, sadly it remains prescient today. We don’t need to throw parties anymore to try to impress, we’re now a society obsessed with social media, wanting to achieve the unattainable…whatever the cost. <p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><u>Cast</u></b></p><p></p><p><br /><b>Sidney Hopcroft:</b> Paul Sandys<br /><b>Jane Hopcroft:</b> Felicity Houlbrooke<br /><b>Geoffrey Jackson</b>: John Dorney<br /><b>Eva Jackson:</b> Helen Keeley<br /><b>Ronald Brewster-Wright:</b> Graham O’Mara<br /><b>Marion Brewster-Wright:</b> Rosanna Miles<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>The 2021 tour concluded at
Theatr Clwyd.<o:p></o:p></i></p><br /><p></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-57000122636738046152021-10-12T20:15:00.028+01:002022-02-18T17:35:54.167+00:00Being Mr Wickham – 8th October 2021 – Theatr Clwyd<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 14pt; text-align: center;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgngrmgRpcu90PopCiHcpiodhL4UV1L61D-JyjemKU9wctwlZKOnbPVP391jY-fh45I1to6KNy2LcAYMA8v4P-PxrubAyz6tpycO4Iysevzdc3f9VA99Z1htoLMFCBfobVpMiucjsl2KN_PAPgGjeBej95rTInDVbZLzW7R3qOq7zJI111tkvUxFWAUFA=s2007" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2007" data-original-width="1360" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgngrmgRpcu90PopCiHcpiodhL4UV1L61D-JyjemKU9wctwlZKOnbPVP391jY-fh45I1to6KNy2LcAYMA8v4P-PxrubAyz6tpycO4Iysevzdc3f9VA99Z1htoLMFCBfobVpMiucjsl2KN_PAPgGjeBej95rTInDVbZLzW7R3qOq7zJI111tkvUxFWAUFA=w434-h640" width="434" /></a></span></div><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Back in 1995, the BBC made what I would consider the quintessential
adaptation of Jane Austin’s 1813 novel Pride and Prejudice.</span></span><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"> The six-part series
elevated actor Colin Firth to fame when he set hearts a flutter whilst striding
out of the lake at Pemberley as the dashing Mr Darcy, wet white shirt dripping
and clinging to his torso. The foil to Mr Darcy was George Wickham, played by
Adrian Lukis, a man who shared his history with Darcy. <o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Wickham was a charming militia officer who manged to attract
the sympathy of the heroine Elizabeth Bennett. She believed Darcy to have mistreated
Wickham in the past and it took the interaction of her aunt to forewarn her
that the path to happiness was most certainly not to be found in George
Wickham. As the story continues, the aunt’s warning plays out and it is
revealed that Wickham is a manipulative cad. He is a wastrel, a compulsive
liar, a seducer and live the life of a rake…in fact Jane Austin doesn’t really
have anything nice to say about the man.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Now whilst I could never envisage dear Lizzie Bennet ending
up with the dastardly Mr Wickham, I must confess to having a bit of a soft spot
for him; I mean think of Dolokhov in Tolstoy’s War and Peace, you’re not really
supposed to like him, but there’s just something utterly compelling about these
characters. I think Dolokhov was rather misunderstood, the question is, was
George Wickham?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #2c2f34; font-size: 36pt; line-height: 107%;">‘Am I to be the villain of my own
story?’</span></i></b><b><i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 36pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">You may recall that our last image of Wickham is when Darcy
forces him to make an honest woman of Lydia Bennett after he has eloped with
her. So, what happens to Wickham after Pride and Prejudice has ended? Adrian
Lukis is back as Mr Wickham and this play he has written and stars in attempts
to provide an answer. It’s time to push Mr Darcy to one-side and give George
Wickham a chance to put the story straight, after all, he isn’t going to tell
the same tale that Jane Austin would.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">It is Wickham’s 60<sup>th</sup> birthday, following a
flirtation at his party, his wife Lydia has stormed off to bed leaving him all
alone with a bottle of claret and a whole host of memories for company. Just as
we can’t forget Mr Darcy, neither can he, his takes us back to his earliest encounter
with Darcy when they were children, through the period we bore witness to in Pride
and Prejudice, to what happened after they were both married. There are often
two sides to a story, and the storyteller will always tell you the rose-tinted
spectacle version.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiHm2Q1_ZjhlSbOVSnhQBFtusaJ94hrz8dRYKei0klHRVqpMr6AOoq-RhJrtLwYriZfkF6rTAWF_XqEFGXz0XHMbmSdpxJ0YdgOn8zitQCQVYtHhapURAYt06Fl8dYxS7BlcujqW8L3mBz5MrzZgeaFQMouQJTlyfuMI-Hf5Yr7tyy_DDoSLeCuWTPP7g=s3604" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1752" data-original-width="3604" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiHm2Q1_ZjhlSbOVSnhQBFtusaJ94hrz8dRYKei0klHRVqpMr6AOoq-RhJrtLwYriZfkF6rTAWF_XqEFGXz0XHMbmSdpxJ0YdgOn8zitQCQVYtHhapURAYt06Fl8dYxS7BlcujqW8L3mBz5MrzZgeaFQMouQJTlyfuMI-Hf5Yr7tyy_DDoSLeCuWTPP7g=w640-h312" width="640" /></a></span></div><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><br />Adrian Lukis is a charismatic actor, making you hang onto
his every word as he draws you back into being complicit with Wickham’s bad boy
behaviour of the past. Wickham’s currently worried by his diminishing looks and
his aging knees, "I'm told I'd pass for 40" … "on a good day."
That pause, that sigh, the raised eyebrow…how can you not be transfixed by this
scoundrel? <o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Being Mr Wickham</span></i></b><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"> is a
fervent defence of a man the audience knows cheated and lied to gain every
advantage he could. He was willing to accept his life as a vicar. He genuinely
loved Georgiana. He had a perfectly acceptable defence of his elopement with
Lydia. He has told these stories to himself so many times that he now truly believes
in them. His trip down memory line is so far apart from Jane Austin’s you’d be
forgiven for thinking that two different people were being explored. But this
is what makes the play so engaging – to hear a different perspective. Austin
would be horrified that Wickham could potentially have a softer, kinder side,
but we know from his past he manipulated those around him…and a leopard doesn’t
change his spots. Just as Elizabeth Bennett fell for his charms, he now has a
whole audience eating out of his hand, hanging onto his every word as he charms
his way through this hour-long production making the audience laugh along the
way. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 36pt; line-height: 107%;">‘When Lydia is happy, I am happy; When Lydia is
asleep, I am delighted.’<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s a well-balanced play; whilst there’s a melancholy to
some of his reminiscences, there are elements of light to the shade, although
often these lighter moments point to a life that’s not as happy as it may seem,
‘When Lydia is happy, I am happy; When Lydia is asleep, I am delighted.’ As he
wanders over to the window to watch the comings and goings of his neighbours,
his excitement is palpable about the possibility of his next-door neighbour’s
daughter eloping.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The writing is particularly vivid as Wickham recalls the
Battle of Waterloo; the walls of the set turn dark, and a military uniform appears
from what were frosted windows, and he recalls the demise of his dear friend
Denny, shot next to him on the battlefield. He Byronesque persona shone through
as he recalled the losses of various courtesans he knew and loved, and other
people who had passed through his life who were no longer there to share in his
current trials and tribulations.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">We journeyed through all his life…his childhood and his
mother abandoning him and how young Darcy took the wrap for young Wickham
stealing a bottle of Brandy. We learnt how unhappy he was at school, how Darcy
paid him off instead of him having a career within the church and how he spent
that money chasing wine, women and song. How he remained with Lydia because
they made each other laugh, but despite everything this was not a man to feel
sorry for. He has had his ups and downs like anyone else.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Just as Colin Firth is Mr Darcy, Adrian Lukis is Mr Wickham
and it was a delight to see the character brought back to life as the layers of
his life were peeled away like an onion. There was a reason he could charm the
Bennett sisters, and throughout the evening he charmed the audience just as
easily. It was a joy to watch this thoughtful “sequel” to Pride and Prejudice
which fans of the novel could delight in and an even bigger joy and surprise
when Adrian returned to the stage as himself to take part in a short Q&A
session which was just as entertaining as the play. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">If you ever get the chance to see this delightful one-man
show – take the opportunity as it’s worth it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">2021 Tour dates:</span></b></p>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Theatr
Clwyd (8-9 October)<br /></span></b><b><span style="background: white; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Darlington
Hippodrome (11-12 October)<br /></span></b><b><span style="background: white; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">York
Theatre Royal (14-16 October)<br /></span></b><b><span style="background: white; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The New
Wolsey Theatre, Ipswich (19-20 October)<br /></span></b><b><span style="background: white; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Connaught
Theatre, Worthing (21-22 October)<br /></span></b><b><span style="background: white; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Yvonne
Arnaud Theatre, Guildford (28-30 October)<br /> </span></b><b><span style="background: white; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The
Haymarket, Basingstoke (1-2 November)<br /> </span></b><b><span style="background: white; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Devonshire
Park Theatre, Eastbourne (4-6 November)</span></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #333333; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">UPDATE! The tour might be over but you can watch online until 30/04/2022 - <a href="https://originaltheatreonline.com/productions/28/being-mr-wickham" target="_blank">https://originaltheatreonline.com/productions/28/being-mr-wickham</a></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPI4SHcZ8lLyInWNQ5mETDe_VMyHsyHni3nU9iVwuEHdCzs-QuoqLnNQ-CNcXVrpjvj4eVsL9hSAGixUGithXNUcmSb7ndusudfbtGb7m2lx8sv-pZrZRSZcyNZJoTUxLRlSnFUkSNQ7q0KYXLblAS0356O4gcDPPXmByN77NwD5W1Pn9krfNX_9XEcA=s838" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="838" data-original-width="818" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPI4SHcZ8lLyInWNQ5mETDe_VMyHsyHni3nU9iVwuEHdCzs-QuoqLnNQ-CNcXVrpjvj4eVsL9hSAGixUGithXNUcmSb7ndusudfbtGb7m2lx8sv-pZrZRSZcyNZJoTUxLRlSnFUkSNQ7q0KYXLblAS0356O4gcDPPXmByN77NwD5W1Pn9krfNX_9XEcA=w624-h640" width="624" /></a></div><br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><br /></div>
<br /><p></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-49095258523678410492021-10-10T16:02:00.004+01:002021-10-10T16:02:50.532+01:00The Hound of the Baskervilles – 21st September 2021 – Theatr Clwyd<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iEgGSIPuZNk/YWL_OWGJ5mI/AAAAAAAAQyE/FBKoR9_E768WyvO1L9bbYuGHxpRPEdYxQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1962/20210926_180637-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1962" data-original-width="1960" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iEgGSIPuZNk/YWL_OWGJ5mI/AAAAAAAAQyE/FBKoR9_E768WyvO1L9bbYuGHxpRPEdYxQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/20210926_180637-01.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>After the last 18 months, we all could all do with exercising
those chuckle muscles a bit and where better to do it than by watching live
theatre? Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s most celebrated adventure has been given the
most glorious comic transformation by the Original Theatre Company.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The world-renowned detective Sherlock Holmes and his ever-faithful
sidekick Dr Watson are tasked with unravelling a mystery regarding the untimely
death of Sir Charles Baskerville. Rumours abound that there is a cursed giant
hound roaming the moors which surround the Baskerville home, so it is up to
Holmes and Watson…or should that be Watson and Holmes, to use their wit and guile
to save the remaining Baskerville heir from succumbing to the same fate that has
befallen Sir Charles.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This ingenious adaptation combines wonderful comic
performances by all three cast members who take on a variety of roles
throughout the evening. Serena Manteghi plays a whole host of colourful characters,
she is a delight as both Sir Charles Baskerville and Sir Henry Baskerville, and
she swiftly morphs into a London cabbie and three yokels of varying degrees of intelligence.
Dr Watson, played by Niall Ransome, is the competent, incompetent, faithful
sidekick played with puppy like charm, whilst Holmes played by Jake Ferretti retains
an element of that emotional distance that Holmes is renowned for. <o:p></o:p></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SlUinrHzvW0/YWL_xU4LKhI/AAAAAAAAQyM/7IvbazJvjsYkpNXby4210o3PhDmdF3aDACLcBGAsYHQ/s2562/20210921_203718-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1228" data-original-width="2562" height="306" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SlUinrHzvW0/YWL_xU4LKhI/AAAAAAAAQyM/7IvbazJvjsYkpNXby4210o3PhDmdF3aDACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h306/20210921_203718-01.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">The show is a parody of many theatrical styles, there are
moments of melodrama intertwined with the farcical and bordering on a night at
the panto. Whilst the show starts rather gently, the momentum continues to
build; the actors change characters, gender, accents, and costumes at lightning
speed; or at least that’s what I thought. After the interval, Jack Ferretti came
back on stage rather ruffled by a Twitter notification during the break, so we
were treated to a resume of the play at warp factor! My sides were aching at
the sheer ludicrousness of it all…and that’s before we were treated to a Tango
worthy of Strictly!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">More camped up spooky Scooby Doo whodunnit than scary crime
drama, it’s a great excuse to treat the family to a fun filled night out, and
after the last couple of years, who wouldn’t want that?!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b>The Hound of the Baskervilles -
produced by The Original Theatre Company & Octagon Theatre Bolton<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b></p>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><b>Jake Ferretti: Sherlock Holmes<br /></b><b>Serena Manteghi: Sir Henry<br /></b><b>Niall Ransome: Dr. Watson</b></div>
<h4 style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b><b>2021/2022 Tour dates:</b></h4>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><b>Cambridge Arts Theatre (16-18
Sept)<br /></b><b>Theatr Clwyd (21-25 Sept)<br /></b><b>Exeter Northcott Theatre (28
Sept-2 Oct)<br /></b><b>Malvern Theatres (5-9 Oct)<br /></b><b>York Theatre Royal (19-23 Oct)<br /></b><b>Devonshire Park Theatre,
Eastbourne (26-30 Oct)<br /></b><b>Richmond Theatre (2-6 November)<br /></b><b>The New Wolsey Theatre, Ipswich
(9-13 Nov)<br /></b><b>Salisbury Playhouse (15-20 Nov)<br /></b><b>Theatre Royal Bath (24-28 Jan)<br /></b><b>The Lowry (31 Jan – 5 Feb)<br /> </b><b>Belgrade Theatre, Coventry
(8-12 February).</b></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><o:p> </o:p></b><b>Further 2022 tour venues are to
be announced.</b></p><br /><p></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-40522876738158650262021-10-05T22:55:00.059+01:002022-02-18T18:58:21.525+00:00Dial M for Murder - – 27th September 2021 – Theatr Clwyd<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg3C8Ev2C_lGxj0mzSdna2G87_TtiZHAmdQY2GnF4F018HesUuvRgRurItD-jidKO--DFAcUBTzKKYUXZohIbk8rRulgxFmgDMEe8Ksj6EiQwTajGj45LvEMZtgtfEaBm8-Q-5SXIEYJbhODq41Cxa__sQ_QOEhDnQ1Z-AOKKwCx8suNltrnwS8V1wr_w=s1662" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1662" data-original-width="1662" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg3C8Ev2C_lGxj0mzSdna2G87_TtiZHAmdQY2GnF4F018HesUuvRgRurItD-jidKO--DFAcUBTzKKYUXZohIbk8rRulgxFmgDMEe8Ksj6EiQwTajGj45LvEMZtgtfEaBm8-Q-5SXIEYJbhODq41Cxa__sQ_QOEhDnQ1Z-AOKKwCx8suNltrnwS8V1wr_w=w640-h640" width="640" /></a></div>Retired champion tennis player Tony Wendice (played by
Strictly Come Dancing winner Tom Chambers) wants to murder his socialite wife
Margot (X-factor finalist Diana Vickers.) Not only has Margot been unfaithful
to her husband by having an affair with crime writer Max Halliday, but she’s
also sitting on a small fortune which her husband needs to get his hands on the
because he’s broke. Whilst he may have several trophy’s lining his front room
shelves, he was playing tennis in an era where tennis players weren’t paid.<p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Many people will be aware of Alfred Hitchcock’s 1954 film
version of Dial M for Murder starring Ray Milland and Grace Kelly, however, it
was BBC television that first aired a production in 1952; the same year that a
theatrical version was also performed.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As I loved Hitchcock’s version, I was rather excited to finally
watch this play; I’d bought tickets pre-covid when the tour was first
announced, but unfortunately the production had to be postponed several times
until it was deemed safe to reopen our theatres and touring could commence.<o:p></o:p></p>
<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 26pt; line-height: 107%;">Is there such a thing as the perfect
crime?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p></blockquote></blockquote>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Tony has spent months perfecting
the perfect murder, however, he’s a coward who won’t get his hands too dirty,
so he enlists the help of an old acquaintance from his Cambridge University
days, Charles Swann. Tony is aware that Charles became a small-time criminal
and because this is the perfect crime, he can use his knowledge of Charles’
history to his advantage. He arranges a meeting with Swann, claiming he wishes
to purchase the car Swann is selling, but over a few drinks, he confides in
Swann about Margot’s infidelity. Six months earlier, Tony had stolen Margot’s
handbag which contained a love letter from Mark, and he sent her an anonymous
blackmail letter about it. Whilst confiding in Swann, Tony hands him the love
letter to read, now that the letter has Swann’s fingerprints all over it, Tony
tells Swann he can either accept £1000.00 to murder Margot, or he can be
unveiled as the mystery man who blackmailed her. Swann grudgingly agrees to
become Tony’s accomplice, and Tony explains his perfect plan for murder…</p>
<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><b style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 26pt; line-height: 107%;">Oh
what a tangled web we weave,</span></i></b> </blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 26pt; line-height: 107%;">When
first we practice to deceive'…</span></i></b></div></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Mark Halliday is back on UK soil and visiting Margot. Tony
tells Mark he should accompany him to a stag party the following evening thus
leaving Margot home alone. Tony will hide Margot’s door key under the mat so
that Charles can let himself into the property and hide. Tony would then
telephone Margot from the party and whilst answering the phone, Charles would
strangle her and then leave signs of a burglary before leaving the flat and
replacing the door key back where he’d found it. Now the only problem with
Tony’s plan is that it is reliant on everyone playing their part perfectly, and
the only fly in the ointment is that Margot doesn’t know what her role in his
devious scheme entails. So, just like Marmion, we’re about to witness a domino effect
of complications which begin to spiral out of control.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Set in the front room of a ground floor flat in Maida Vale,
this production is set a decade later than the original, a transformation that doesn’t
add anything to this clunky new production of the classic thriller. The
soundtrack opening the show is the 1959 classic The Flamingos - I Only Have
Eyes For You, which immediately transported me back to The Deep Blue Sea at The
National with Tom Burke and Helen McCrory. I say the production was clunky,
because whilst I enjoyed the play, it wasn’t the edge of the seat
spine-chilling thriller I was expecting. Instead, director Anthony Banks has
injected a light-heartedness into the staging, which suits Tom Chambers’ acting
style, but means that parts of the play which should be extremely dramatic,
elicit raucous laughter from audience.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiRAaK3s6cASt7FbJ-S017j1PZnVzsUAPRwLRGxMaQviVX-geLIIlSENJyYT-Y_Sv5FKEvLmcoiL-Qp3WUohz9m8flxvc6zNClcg7qguATqludOS6BcpOgmHXw5-IADoXY5pAYhsEh8npyWwSKpJrtvRL7Ta5PrpNnCLnz37fd54vLLZV3_oZMe5on-mA=s4020"><img border="0" data-original-height="1462" data-original-width="4020" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiRAaK3s6cASt7FbJ-S017j1PZnVzsUAPRwLRGxMaQviVX-geLIIlSENJyYT-Y_Sv5FKEvLmcoiL-Qp3WUohz9m8flxvc6zNClcg7qguATqludOS6BcpOgmHXw5-IADoXY5pAYhsEh8npyWwSKpJrtvRL7Ta5PrpNnCLnz37fd54vLLZV3_oZMe5on-mA=s16000" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">Tom Chambers appears to be having great fun playing the role
of psychopath Tony Wendice, but he is too maniacal, and it undermines the cold
calculated mind of a wife killer; I also found the smug self-esteem overbearing
and the references to his past tennis career in his dancelike movements across
the stage unnecessary.</p><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Whilst all the actors were good, I felt there was a distinct
lack of chemistry between the central trio, which made the whole plot unbelievable,
and I didn’t really care who was sent to the gallows in the end. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then there was the murder itself. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The joy of this storyline is that the audience has had it
spelt out to them from the start what is supposed to happen. The tension in the
air should become palpable as we move through Tony’s plan and see it start to
fracture, but the comedic edge dilutes the tension. There isn’t that sense of
shock from Margot, surprise yes, but not a deep dark horror that someone has
just tried to kill her. The murder scene needed more conviction to keep me on
the edge of my seat. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was an enjoyable evening out, but it was less thriller
and more comedic caper for my liking; but maybe a bit of tactical light relief
is what people need in the current climate, and if that’s what the audience
want – this production delivers on that front.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Dial M for Murder<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Theatr Clwyd – Anthony Hopkins Theatr from <o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b>Running time 2 hours 20 mins<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b>Tony Wendice: Tom Chambers<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b>Margot Wendice: Diana Vickers<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #3a3a3a; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">27 September – 2 October 2021 <b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; padding: 0cm;">Theatr Clwyd, Mold</span></b><br />
5 – 9 October 2021 <b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; padding: 0cm;">Cambridge Arts Theatre</span></b><br />
11 – 16 October 2021 <b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; padding: 0cm;">Everyman Theatre, Cheltenham</span></b><br />
18 – 23 October 2021 <b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; padding: 0cm;">Lyceum Theatre, Sheffield</span></b><br />
26 – 30 October 2021 <b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; padding: 0cm;">Milton Keynes Theatre</span></b><br />
2 – 6 November 2021 <b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; padding: 0cm;">New Theatre Cardiff</span></b><br />
9 – 13 November 2021 <b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; padding: 0cm;">Palace Theatre, Southend On Sea</span></b><br />
15 – 20 November 2021 <b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; padding: 0cm;">The Lowry, Salford</span></b><br />
29 November – 4 December 2021 <b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; padding: 0cm;">Festival Theatre Malvern</span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p></div>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-77847076332769668012021-09-23T17:45:00.000+01:002021-09-23T17:45:17.355+01:00Missing Julie - by Kaite O'Reilly - Theatr Clwyd 17th Sep 2021 (Preview)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nnwMFz-ed-g/YUyp76PK22I/AAAAAAAAQig/h8q84qJv1xIrhbin6v_ueq0b6_3ZlNv-QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20210922_170540-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1731" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nnwMFz-ed-g/YUyp76PK22I/AAAAAAAAQig/h8q84qJv1xIrhbin6v_ueq0b6_3ZlNv-QCLcBGAsYHQ/w540-h640/20210922_170540-01.jpeg" width="540" /></a></div>Theatr Clwyd - 2020 Regional Theatre of the Year. It’s
easy to see why. During the darkest days of the pandemic, the theatre not only
got involved with the local community, but it continued to strive to help
creatives in the industry. An opportunity to stream several free
online readings whilst the theatre curtain remained drawn was also grabbed.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">On 5/11/2020, a reading of Kate
O’Reilly’s brand-new play Missing Julie was aired. Over a coffee in the
theatre, the foundations of relocating Strindberg’s classic Miss Julie to post-war
Wales had begun to take shape. Performed by Sophie Melville (The Missing, The
Pact); Tim Pritchett (Casualty, Black Mirror); and Victoria John (Miranda,
Little Britain) I enjoyed the reading and looked forward to a time when the
play would grace the stage of Theatr Clwyd. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Set in a Welsh stately home in 1921, just
after the First World War, Missing Julie is described as a modern
adaptation of Strindberg’s Miss Julie. Whilst the story has moved to a century ago, it still feels
like a contemporary piece, but it allows the dynamic between the characters to
be strengthened and throughout it still remains faithful to the original storyline. After the war was a period of grief and mourning, but for some it was
also a period of change, of hope, of possibilities. Many men returned home with missing limbs and this play explores their lives and the interactions they had after returning home.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The play is performed in Theatr Clwyd’s “Emlyn Williams
Theatr” an intimate space which allowed Georgia Lowe’s simplistic but effective
traverse staged set design. Just like when I watched Miss Julie in Keswick a
few years ago, <a href="https://www.imblatheringnow.com/2017/09/miss-julie-theatre-by-lake-keswick.html"><b>https://www.imblatheringnow.com/2017/09/miss-julie-theatre-by-lake-keswick.html</b></a><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"> </span></span><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">the audience watches the action from either side of a long
kitchen table. Whilst Keswick’s set was a homely kitchen, this set is spartan
matt black, with Perspex walls housing flood lights at either end. Large bells
hang ominously from each corner of the set, and a large pan is set at the end
of the table, bubbling above a burning flame. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Out of the cast who did the online reading, only Tim
Pritchett as John remains. Heledd Gwynn takes on the titular role and her
performance is mesmerising from the moment the lights go up on stage. Athletic
and balletic, she contorts her body in all manner of shapes as John watches on,
stating to Christine that the lady of the house has obviously lost her mind. Julie
however is not a madwoman, but a heady mixture of contradictions. It is
unsettling watching her as she sways from her desperate yearning to be with
John, a man deemed to be beneath her, and her reliance on the shackles that
bind her to her current lifestyle of the wealthy classes.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Rather than being abandoned by her fiancé, this Miss Julie’s
world has been turned upside down as she has lost her man in the carnage of the
trenches. She is one of the surplus women, destined to become a spinster. Her
father’s servant John has lost a leg, we assume in the war, but it transpires that
it was caused by a shooting accident in his youth. It’s not just John who is
bearing scars of the past, Christine the cook is also dealing with her own
loss; the grief she feels for her dead husband is palpable. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">‘What
do you know about magnificence?’<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">John is tired of being working-class, taking his orders from
people who are no better than him. He aspires to better things, but this is a simple
world of going to chapel, knowing your place and where having aspirations
should be met with caution. John may appear to have certain limitations, but he
will not let the loss of a limb stop him from pursuing a life away from
servitude. He is Julie’s opposite in several ways. John and Julie continually
bait and stalk each other throughout the play, but both give focused and
assured performances maintaining a sizzling level of tension throughout. We
know how the original story pans out, but maybe this time Julie will fathom out
what she really wants.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8qhA36w_VWU/YUyt-hr_InI/AAAAAAAAQio/iXnYnduZYKctJsDsxxADs4FEiN7SbXRlwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1020/2021-09-23.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="734" data-original-width="1020" height="461" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8qhA36w_VWU/YUyt-hr_InI/AAAAAAAAQio/iXnYnduZYKctJsDsxxADs4FEiN7SbXRlwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h461/2021-09-23.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Images as per Twitter Stream</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Overseeing all the action is Christine, played by Catrin
Aaron. All three actors remain on the stage throughout the play, and as she
sleepwalks around the perimeter of the stage, the atmosphere becomes more
claustrophobic. The old ways are being swept away and for her this is a heavy
burden to bear. Her sudden outburst is heartfelt, and suddenly you realise that
from the moment the play begins, to when she says to John “what do you know
about magnificence?” she is the one who has the most tragic life of them all.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Whilst this isn’t radically different to the original play,
it was thoroughly enjoyable to watch and to look through the eyes of a world
that was on the cusp of change. Often disabled characters in classic plays are
to be pitied or ridiculed, but Kaite O’Reilly has created an opportunity to
give a voice to those who are overlooked or treated with contempt, and she has given
them an inner strength. Setting it in a period where many men came back from
the war supporting life changing injuries opened a conversation about how
people with disabilities are treated, both then and now.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Missing Julie by Kaite O'Reilly<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Theatr Clwyd - Emlyn Williams Theatre from 21 September
until 9 October.<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b>Running time 75 mins<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b>Julie: Heledd Gwynn<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b>Christine: Catrin Aaron<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b>John: Tim Pritchett<o:p></o:p></b></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-13198268277832149152021-08-31T23:19:00.000+01:002021-08-31T23:19:29.721+01:00Grayson’s Art Club – Manchester Art Gallery (August 2021)<p>For people of a certain vintage, they’d come home from school, be
handed a glass of Kia-Ora and sit and watch Take Hart with the aroma of fish fingers, chips and beans wafting in the air. For the uninitiated, Take Hart was a BBC children’s TV
programme about art, presented by a chap call Tony Hart, who had a Plasticine
animated side-kick called Morph. Unlike progressive UK Governments, Tony could
see the benefit of encouraging children to be creative. He would demonstrate
small-scale projects you could easily try to recreate or adapt, and large-scale
projects on the studio floor, or a beach which you’d just watch in amazement. There
was a special part of the show “The Gallery” in which young viewers could send
in their own artwork and if they were lucky, Tony would select their work and
it would be shown on the TV.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MN9z9NgmreI/YS0CLiR8l9I/AAAAAAAAQB4/lXVRv8ZtaU0VlLFHqAiN7vzajdQ3lW82ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20210828_151853-01.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1082" data-original-width="2048" height="338" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MN9z9NgmreI/YS0CLiR8l9I/AAAAAAAAQB4/lXVRv8ZtaU0VlLFHqAiN7vzajdQ3lW82ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h338/20210828_151853-01.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p>The reason for my trip down memory lane is that during lockdown,
Grayson Perry, one of Britain’s leading artists, took this idea one step
further. No longer just the domain of young children, Grayson and his wife opened
the doors of the artworld for everyone; no matter their age, or their ability,
everyone was welcome at Art Club. The Channel 4 show was only 6 episodes long,
but it quickly brought the British nation together during the first lockdown.</p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 24.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 24pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><b><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="color: #2a2a2a; font-size: 18pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“We want to encourage everyone to express their creativity
through art. Art is good for you, whoever you are.”</span></b></p><p style="background: white; line-height: 19.2pt; margin-bottom: 24.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 24pt; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent;">Each week, Grayson and Philippa would set a creative theme and people
would submit their artwork to them. Alongside the artwork submitted by the
public, celebratory guests contributed their artwork, and of course Philippa
and Grayson shared their creativity with us too.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: inherit; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jVJ6Q8Nf6zo/YS09FBlj7CI/AAAAAAAAQCg/1GT4qWiH_dQ2auHjn00NO3oPtMCeueyPwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1961/20210828_151508-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1961" data-original-width="1960" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jVJ6Q8Nf6zo/YS09FBlj7CI/AAAAAAAAQCg/1GT4qWiH_dQ2auHjn00NO3oPtMCeueyPwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/20210828_151508-01.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: inherit; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Nearly ten thousand people submitted their work to Grayson and
Philippa, and art chosen by them, and their celebratory guests, was shared on national
television and more latterly in an exhibition at Manchester Art Gallery.
Grayson was adamant that the exhibition would not be shown in London. In his
own words, he loves London, it’s the centre of the British art world, but Art
Club wasn’t for the art world, it was for the whole country.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Lockdown Two thwarted Grayson’s plans for opening the exhibition, however,
it did allow us a second series of Art Club and offered six new themes for the
nation to unleash their creativity. Family, nature, food, dreams, work and
travel were the hot topics of series two and once again the country united to
explore and share its artwork once more with Grayson, Philippa and Kevin the
cat. The divided UK was again united, showing that making art unites us and
comforts us in our times of need. Whether it’s going back to childhood with
some Lego or grabbing a pencil and paper and scribbling away our unconscious thoughts
or fears, art is the therapy that heled many people come to terms with being
forced to stay at home.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-su9QX_5fEsQ/YS09XeQcDiI/AAAAAAAAQCo/XNbRVn1NlFAFzxccJTqcGBU2qci03tLggCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20210828_145204-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1115" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-su9QX_5fEsQ/YS09XeQcDiI/AAAAAAAAQCo/XNbRVn1NlFAFzxccJTqcGBU2qci03tLggCLcBGAsYHQ/w348-h640/20210828_145204-01.jpeg" width="348" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Now the lockdowns have ended, Manchester Art Gallery is open, and
the public can reminisce about those early, dark days of lockdown. The
exhibition is an incredible reminder of what we, as a nation went through. It
chronicles how we got through the changing mood of the pandemic, from one of
fear, to one of anger, to one of unity and tolerance. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Below are my personal favourites from the exhibition catagories:</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><u>Portraits</u><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P54W74Lyd3c/YS0DErRQUhI/AAAAAAAAQCA/zqha3uOn77MMKaSw4IuLo50O4ZxC0blkQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1876/20210828_151206-01.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1876" data-original-width="1475" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P54W74Lyd3c/YS0DErRQUhI/AAAAAAAAQCA/zqha3uOn77MMKaSw4IuLo50O4ZxC0blkQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20210828_151206-01.jpeg" width="252" /></a></b></div><b><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><u>Grayson Perry 2020 by Nathan Wyburn</u></span></b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I visit a gallery, I’m not immediately drawn to the portrait
section. (Strange when you consider that for the last few years, I returned to
drawing by doing portraits of my favourite actor Tom Burke.) I was pleasantly
surprised by how many of the portraits spoke to me and there were a few pieces
that really caught my attention, but I loved the simplicity of Nathan’s work;
how by raiding a few condiments from the kitchen cupboard, he could produce a
portrait of Grayson using soya sauce and noodles!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><u><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Animals</span></b><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></u></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kbxnM0nIwD4/YS0FLzvLEBI/AAAAAAAAQCI/S9OeI5J7Whw5Fig4rC8qHmU_FoqORUINgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20210828_150412-01.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1168" data-original-width="2048" height="183" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kbxnM0nIwD4/YS0FLzvLEBI/AAAAAAAAQCI/S9OeI5J7Whw5Fig4rC8qHmU_FoqORUINgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20210828_150412-01.jpeg" width="320" /></a></b></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><u>Lockdown Birds 2020 by Paul Green</u></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">My favourite artist is Georges Stubbs; the way he captures the details
of his animals, especially the horses he is famed for is sublime. I was captivated
by several animal paintings in this exhibit, but it was these garden birds made
of wire that stole this section. The attention to detail in these tiny
sculptures brought home the joy these daily garden visitors gave me and
watching them have the freedom to go wherever they wanted whilst I was being
told I had to stay at home!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><u>Fantasy</u><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zOhRSjzlo18/YS0HkZRGvEI/AAAAAAAAQCQ/zmDrPhQBVyA4g3tDxqjEypuVCI4zvfWjQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1815/20210828_143641-02.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1022" data-original-width="1815" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zOhRSjzlo18/YS0HkZRGvEI/AAAAAAAAQCQ/zmDrPhQBVyA4g3tDxqjEypuVCI4zvfWjQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20210828_143641-02.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><u>ComputerWorld 2020 by Alex Robinson</u></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">There was something so endearing about Alex’s fantasy Fimo clay
models. They took me back to a time when it was acceptable to lose yourself in
a world of make believe. Each character is unique, but all exhibit Alex’s personal
style. Best of all, they made me smile, and what could be better than
disappearing from the harshness of reality, to take time out and allow yourself
to take in the joyfulness of these little characters. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><u>View From My
Window</u></span></b><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KY4mmYiSq-o/YS1VF4NX0DI/AAAAAAAAQC4/HK8P0LnJSK8ZaTvC8ckZGZen7MqonzECwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1911/20210830_221202-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1911" data-original-width="1359" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KY4mmYiSq-o/YS1VF4NX0DI/AAAAAAAAQC4/HK8P0LnJSK8ZaTvC8ckZGZen7MqonzECwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20210830_221202-01.jpeg" width="228" /></a></span></b></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Bearded Tit 2020 by Jim Muir (Vic Reeves)</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">I didn’t feel much connection with this category. I didn’t spend
much time looking out of the window during lockdown, but if I did, it was
watching the birds on the feeders. It’s like watching a soap opera being played
out, the different birds playing their roles to aplomb. I really loved how Jim
had stripped our feathered friends back to their most simplistic form and used
bold primary colours – a bit of brightness and cheer in the dark days that
stretched ahead of us.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><u><br /></u></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><u>Home</u></span></b></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8mwJo6FUzF8/YS06ydiZBDI/AAAAAAAAQCY/rqja7BGS2PoJdhIx-H_KJDmtQwZ7_qWQwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1658/20210828_144407-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1658" data-original-width="1643" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8mwJo6FUzF8/YS06ydiZBDI/AAAAAAAAQCY/rqja7BGS2PoJdhIx-H_KJDmtQwZ7_qWQwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20210828_144407-01.jpeg" width="317" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><u>At home with my cats 2020 by Ania Newland</u></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">Ania’s painting stood out for me as it had an echo of a Mr Man
book to it. I don’t make that comment flippantly or disrespectfully – it is the
bright colours outlined in black that made the thought pop into my head. And
what could be a more homely thought than being a child tucked up in bed having
Mr Men books read to them? There was also a hint of longing to be the person
sitting on the sofa surrounded by cats. When lockdown began, the only animals I
had keeping me sane were the yard cats at work. Things are different now, and
heaven forbid, if there’s another lockdown, I have a cat to share my sofa with!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><u>Britain</u></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CDkraCliZ54/YS1AuwH3XtI/AAAAAAAAQCw/Lq2hLZ_gnyAtusEvUz7YqL2JivyhUSobgCLcBGAsYHQ/s869/IMG-20210828-WA0027-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="690" data-original-width="869" height="254" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CDkraCliZ54/YS1AuwH3XtI/AAAAAAAAQCw/Lq2hLZ_gnyAtusEvUz7YqL2JivyhUSobgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG-20210828-WA0027-01.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 19.9733px; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><u>Thursday 8pm 2020 by Jacqueline Taylor</u></span></b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This image was a stark reminder of lockdown. I think we’ve easily
forgotten how bad the early days were, when you could only leave your house to
go on a walk (on your own.) The car sat on the driveway unless you were going
to work or the supermarket. There was a feeling of being trapped, your home
suddenly became your prison; children stuck inside trying to find a way through
the school day when formal schooling was no longer an option. And then, without
warning, neighbourhoods were showing signs of solidarity – windows were being
bestowed with children’s paintings of rainbows. This wasn’t a new concept, it
had started in Italy, one of the first European countries to be hit hard by
Covid. In Italy the art was accompanied by the phrase ‘Andrà Tutto Bene’, or
All Will Be Well. The rainbow was a simple way for children to show their
appreciation for the NHS – and on a Thursday evening at 8pm, residents up and
down the country joined together and clapped for their overstretched NHS. If
there is one piece of art in the whole exhibition which has a historical
context to it, it’s this one. In ten years’ time, if we look at it again, those
memories of lockdown will come flooding back.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p align="center" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #2a2a2a; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; padding: 0cm;">Grayson’s Art Club exhibition feature art from series one is currently open at Manchester Art Gallery until 31st October 2021.</span></strong><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="color: #2a2a2a; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #2a2a2a; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; padding: 0cm;"><br /></span></strong></p><p align="center" style="line-height: 19.2pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #2a2a2a; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; padding: 0cm;">Grayson’s Art Club exhibition featuring art from series two is due to open at Bristol Museum & Art Gallery 4th December</span></strong><strong><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: #2a2a2a; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0cm; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; padding: 0cm;"> 2021 - 8th May 2022.</span></strong></p><div><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></div><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JWtE2AcpdE8/YS6nulcWW6I/AAAAAAAAQE8/5MKtnd8dcLokpal-6h7wYZq0WGoXB4P4gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20210828_152737-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1078" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JWtE2AcpdE8/YS6nulcWW6I/AAAAAAAAQE8/5MKtnd8dcLokpal-6h7wYZq0WGoXB4P4gCLcBGAsYHQ/w336-h640/20210828_152737-01.jpeg" width="336" /></a></span></b></div><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 19.9733px; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><b>PS. </b>When you're leaving the exhibition - look closely in one of the cabinets in the tea exhibition...that Jane Austen pot doesn't just look like a Grayson Perry pot...it<b> is </b>a Grayson Perry pot!</span></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-49708799991111769232021-06-28T22:00:00.001+01:002021-06-28T22:00:41.309+01:00A Splinter of Ice – Theatr Clwyd<p><span face=""Segoe UI Emoji", sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">📅</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> <b>Sat 12<sup>th</sup> June – Fri 25th
June</b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Running time 2hrs 10 mins
(inc interval)</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 35.45pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><u><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;">Betrayal.</span></u></b><b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;"> “I
hate the idea of causes, and if I had to choose between betraying my country
and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country.” </span></i></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;">–
E.M.Forster<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 35.45pt;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Moscow, February
1987, two of the greatest 20<sup>th</sup> Century novelists Graham Greene and
the Soviet spy Kim Philby are reunited. Philby had been Greene’s supervisor and
friend at MI6 30 years earlier, but at the time of the meeting Philby had long
been exposed as a communist double agent and was living in Moscow with his
final wife, Rufa – a Russian memoirist.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I had seen several advertisements on
social media for The Original Theatre Company’s online recording of the
production, and I was on the verge of buying a ticket when I spotted that the
play was touring and coming to Theatr Clwyd. Whilst online plays have been a
salvation throughout the pandemic, there is nothing to beat the feeling of
sitting in a theatre watching a live production. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u3HX_LIgmdI/YNo3OSOp-cI/AAAAAAAAPxU/vWZb4U7HiMA4iQ5Ie8BziN4qsoU9oFgRgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1200/Splinter_1080x1920px.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="675" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u3HX_LIgmdI/YNo3OSOp-cI/AAAAAAAAPxU/vWZb4U7HiMA4iQ5Ie8BziN4qsoU9oFgRgCLcBGAsYHQ/w360-h640/Splinter_1080x1920px.jpg" width="360" /></a></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Graham Greene served in MI6 in the
1940s, which is where he met and became friends with Kim Philby, a double
agent, who in 1963 was revealed as the “third man” in the Cambridge Spy
Ring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ben Brown’s play imagines how the
reunion between Greene and Philby would have played out and whether Philby not
only betrayed his country, but whether he betrayed his friend as well. It also
scratches under the surface of one of Greene’s most famous stories, The Third
Man, which was released as both a film starring Orson Welles and a novella with
which Greene could use as the basis for his film script. Questions arise during
the evening as to how much of Philby’s secret life Greene was aware of, and
whether he was the basis of the character Harry Lime.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The set is a simple affair, a
Soviet-era drawing room in retro shades of yellow and brown, so the play relies
on the strength and vigour of the conversations between the two men played by Olivier
Award-winning Oliver Ford Davies (Game of Thrones, Star Wars) and Stephen Boxer
(The Crown).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span>This is an extraordinary political
drama exploring a long and unlikely friendship, woven of both loyalty and
deceit; but throughout the play, we never really get to know either man well
enough to condemn or acquit them for their actions. Brown’s dialogue is
intelligent and often humorous, and both parts are played well enough, but
there is a lack of depth and intensity between the two protagonists. It was
hard to imagine either party had anything left in common with the other to want
to “catch up on old times.” Greene made his name trivialising spying with his
novels, Philby spent most of his life living in Russia feeling the aftereffects
of his espionage after he was exposed.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The play commences with a lot of small
talk over glasses of vodka, and we learn a lot about Philby’s life in Russia.
He still enjoys reading The Times, his family ensures he has Scotch sent over,
and there is the sense that whilst he has kissed Britain goodbye, there is
still a thread tugging at him that he cannot let go of. We learn about Philby’s
actions working at MI6 and the human cost his work as a spy took, but we never
really get past the surface as to why he betrayed his country. Greene tries to
subtly extract information from Philby but never really shows any intent, instead,
Philby moves the focus onto whether he was the inspiration for Harry Lime in
The Third Man, a belief that Greene is quick to quash.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">There is a lot of background
information supplied in the process of conversation about the events that
happened in the 30 years before this meeting, but there is nothing substantial
for the audience to be shocked or surprised at. “My book was published and you
kindly wrote the foreword,” says Philby to Greene. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Why? Why did Philby write a book? What
explosive content did it contain? Why was Greene asked to write the forward,
and why did he agree? I suppose I’d better pick up a copy of “My Silent War” to
find out! I presume there had to be something more substantial than just
because they were friends and once worked together. And what was the real
reason for Greene suddenly turning up? It was too convenient that he was in
town for a star-studded peace conference and thought he would just drop by. Throughout
the play, Philby seems on edge as he is questioned by his old friend; is this
because the friend cannot be trusted and is still the enemy?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The most enthralling part of the play
is when Greene challenges Philby about agents sent behind enemy lines to what
would be certain death; and how being a spy questions a person’s loyalty to
their friends and family, and with that, their morality. Philby confesses to
betraying his own father and about the innocent lives which were lost because
of his espionage (although he claimed many were ex-Nazi anyway and somehow
deserved their fate), but he also claimed he was never a double agent. He
seemed at peace with his decisions, but as the play drew to a close, Philby’s
wife, who for most of the first act is just seen taking Greene’s coat before
ushering him to the drawing room and then scurrying off to the kitchen, fills
in yet more of Philby’s backstory. It seems that Philby lives a solitary life
in Moscow, his inability to speak Russian means he cannot partake in a full
social life, and his former career as a spy means that people don’t wish to
know him. He is reliant on Rufa for everything. Philby states he has no regrets
about his past, but as the final sombre scenes play out, he cuts a dejected and
lonely figure on the stage.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The premise of the play is an exciting
one, the audience has been invited to watch a fascinating moment in history
when two great men meet, but they are let down by a script that neither takes
us deep to the heart of either man or one that attempts to understand their
motivations; especially the motivations of Philby who moved from a communist
allegiance as a student and moved onto passing secrets to the Soviets,
culminating in the certain deaths of many agents. Graham Greene famously stated
that there was a “splinter of ice in the heart of a writer” – meaning that
whilst the writer can empathise with a person’s suffering, there is observation
and notetaking being done in the background ready to be shared in a later book.
Maybe that is why this play doesn’t have the answers we crave, or perhaps it’s
just that both individuals took their secrets to the grave. <o:p style="font-size: 12pt;"></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><i><b>(Viewed Thursday 24th June)</b></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt;"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">A Splinter of Ice
UK Tour 2021<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Starring Oliver Ford Davies (<i>Game of Thrones,
Star Wars</i>) as Graham Greene, Stephen Boxer (The Crown) as Kim Philby
and Karen Ascoe as Rufa Philby.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">8 - 12 June - MALVERN Festival Theatre - <a href="https://www.malvern-theatres.co.uk/whats-on/a-splinter-of-ice/"><span style="color: blue;">www.malvern-theatres.co.uk</span></a> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">15 - 19 June - GUILDFORD Yvonne Arnaud Theatre - <a href="https://www.yvonne-arnaud.co.uk/whats-on/splinter-ice"><span style="color: blue;">www.yvonne-arnaud.co.uk</span></a> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">21 - 26 June - MOLD Theatr Clwyd - <a href="https://www.theatrclwyd.com/"><span style="color: blue;">www.theatrclwyd.com</span></a><a href="https://www.theatrclwyd.com/event/a-splinter-of-ice"><span style="color: blue;"> </span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">28 June - 3 July - BATH Theatre Royal - <a href="https://www.theatreroyal.org.uk/event/a-splinter-of-ice/"><span style="color: blue;">www.theatreroyal.org.uk</span></a> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">6 - 10 July - YORK, Theatre Royal York - <a href="https://www.yorktheatreroyal.co.uk/show/a-splinter-of-ice/"><span style="color: blue;">www.yorktheatreroyal.co.uk</span></a> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">13 - 17 July - EDINBURGH King’s Theatre - <a href="https://www.capitaltheatres.com/whats-on/a-splinter-of-ice"><span style="color: blue;">www.capitaltheatres.com</span></a> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">19 - 24 July - CAMBRIDGE, Cambridge Arts - <a href="https://www.cambridgeartstheatre.com/whats-on/splinter-ice"><span style="color: blue;">www.cambridgeartstheatre.com</span></a> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 3;"><b><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">ONLINE</span></b><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Starring Oliver Ford Davies (<i>Game of Thrones,
Star Wars</i>) as Graham Greene, Stephen Boxer (The Crown) as Kim Philby
and Sara Crowe (<i>Four Weddings and a Funeral</i>) as Rufa Philby.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Tickets:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Standard </span></b><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">- £20<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Supporter Package</span></b><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> - £22.50 - Includes
digital programme <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Premium Package</span></b><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> - £100 - Includes signed script
by a creative team member of your choice, digital programme and supporter
credit on the final films.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: #212529; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Watch anytime, as many times as you like until 31 July 2021. Available
worldwide.<o:p></o:p></span></p></span><p></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-11712617047986372692021-06-28T21:50:00.001+01:002021-07-04T23:51:42.631+01:00For The Grace Of You Go I by Alan Harris – Theatr Clwyd<p><span face=""Segoe UI Emoji", sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">📅</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> <b>Sat 12<sup>th</sup> June – Fri 25th
June</b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Running time 1hr 15 mins</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 35.45pt; text-align: justify;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: medium; line-height: 107%;">Jim’s
life is going nowhere. He spends his days topping pizzas with pepperoni. He
thinks he has found the answer to his problems whilst watching the film “I
Hired a Contract Killer.”All he has to do is get someone to kill him. What on
earth could go wrong with that?</span></i></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UnhczRN6zvo/YNZhwQuFCLI/AAAAAAAAPuE/NW4xGU8w694Ozho3CSYZjkp_vUsKdCAUACLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20210619_135632.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" height="195" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UnhczRN6zvo/YNZhwQuFCLI/AAAAAAAAPuE/NW4xGU8w694Ozho3CSYZjkp_vUsKdCAUACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h195/20210619_135632.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">This is my second post-Covid show at Theatr Clwyd and
on first sight the stage is an assault on the eyeballs, all acid green, bubble
gum pink and sunshine yellow. But don’t let the Crayola crayon set fool you,
Welsh writer Alan Harris has delivered a darkly comic play with a poignant
message running through it.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">The tale is a three-hander, focusing on Jim,
excellently played by the haunting Rhodri Meilir (Hidden/My family) who,
following the death of his mother, has been suffering from the mental health
condition, depersonalisation disorder. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">As part of a Department for Work and Pensions (DWP)
pilot scheme, Jim has been selected to work on the production line of an
artisan pizza company. His job is to ensure that he puts the requisite pieces
of pepperoni on a pizza, in the manner of a handcrafted pizza, not as though a
robot had done it. Despite his best efforts, Jim never quite manages to hit his
productivity quota, causing his manager Irina (Remy Beasley – Stella/The
Salisbury Poisonings) to intervene which gives the audience an insight into the
pressures she is being put under by her boss. Rather than Irina’s pep-talk
buoying Jim on, he instead arranges the meat on his pizzas into messages,
desperate cries for help in meat form. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YRxb-kyEHIo/YNZjFbeMJZI/AAAAAAAAPuM/Iv6M2N6o7BcT7cFrbGT4QGWBaUOWGovxwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1505/IMG-20210619-WA0003.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="845" data-original-width="1505" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YRxb-kyEHIo/YNZjFbeMJZI/AAAAAAAAPuM/Iv6M2N6o7BcT7cFrbGT4QGWBaUOWGovxwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/IMG-20210619-WA0003.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px;">Jim meets Mark (Darren Jeffries – Hollyoaks) at a film club for people suffering with their mental health. Unbeknown to Jim, Mark is married to his boss Irina. Following a viewing of Aki Kaurismäki’s f</span><span style="color: #121212; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px;">ilm “I Hired a Contract Killer”</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px;"> Jim asks Mark to kill him – it’s the only way he believes he can find peace from the banality of everyday life. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px;">The narrative of the film begins to weave into their lives, and this is echoed by partly staging the show via video. As the film is shown on several screens peppered across the stage, Jim mirrors the words and movement of the film. There’s an almost balletic quality in his movements which are mesmerising. Here is a man completely on the edge of society, failed by the state which should be there to protect him and provide him with some dignity, but instead is exploiting him in a work scheme which he is set to fail at from the very beginning.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The play was originally due to premiere at Theatr
Clwyd in 2020, and it was great to finally be able to sit inside a theatre and
watch real people on a real stage. During lockdown, Theatr Clwyd staged an
online reading of another play by Alan Harris – Love, Lies and Taxidermy; an
offbeat tale of the son of a Polish taxidermist going on a first date with the
daughter of a failing ice-cream salesman in a Tesco in Merthyr Tydfil. Both
plays showed Harris’s compassion for his characters, and whilst I was in awe of
the staging, the acting and the sensitivity in the writing, I couldn’t help but
find myself thinking it was lacking in something I couldn’t put my finger on.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #121212; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">It was an ambitious production taking on
the subject of mental health in a dark but comedic way, showing how society
thinks that with a catchy self-care slogan people’s conditions will
miraculously fade away. However, as a piece of metatheatre, where the audience
is both laughing and feeling empathy to a character, I think the farcical or
more ludicrous elements of the show were lost because they faded into the
characters’ normal lives and so elements of the play became a little confused.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #121212; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">All in all, I thought it was an
enjoyable drama and I hope that when theatres get back on their feet, that this
play is given the opportunity to tour as it’s well worth watching. For those
who have been unable to watch, the script is available from Nick Hern Books and
other good retailers.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gtwq1IZqMPs/YNZoB6AoQeI/AAAAAAAAPuk/-_kGzCU-790k7sMx5ka0NTM5Xmm6ft-fwCLcBGAsYHQ/s290/for-the-grace-of-you-go-i-22363-210x290.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="290" data-original-width="189" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gtwq1IZqMPs/YNZoB6AoQeI/AAAAAAAAPuk/-_kGzCU-790k7sMx5ka0NTM5Xmm6ft-fwCLcBGAsYHQ/s0/for-the-grace-of-you-go-i-22363-210x290.jpg" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #121212; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #121212; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><b style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: small;"><i>(Viewed Saturday 19th June 2021)</i></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #121212; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><b style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #121212; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><b style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #121212; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><b style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><i>UPDATE</i></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">If you missed watching this fabulous production, you can watch online until Wednesday 14th July. If you're a Theatr Clwyd member you can watch for free. Head to the website for full details.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://www.theatrclwyd.com/event/for-the-grace-of-you-go-i-online?utm_campaign=12496371_For%20The%20Grace%20Of%20You%20Go%20I%20-%20ONLINE%20%28general%29&utm_medium=E-mail&utm_source=Theatr%20Clwyd%20E-mail&dm_i=1FDJ,7FU9F,807YTR,U8AO6,1" target="_blank">https://www.theatrclwyd.com/event/for-the-grace-of-you-go-i-online?utm_campaign=12496371_For%20The%20Grace%20Of%20You%20Go%20I%20-%20ONLINE%20%28general%29&utm_medium=E-mail&utm_source=Theatr%20Clwyd%20E-mail&dm_i=1FDJ,7FU9F,807YTR,U8AO6,1</a><br /></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-45772078983088985462021-06-28T21:41:00.000+01:002021-06-28T21:41:02.568+01:00Blindness – Theatr Clwyd (Adaptation by Simon Stephen)<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Apparently, I’ve been languishing. Organisational
psychologist Adam Grant, PhD, wrote in a recent article in the New York Times, that
languishing is "a sense of stagnation and emptiness." Whilst in this
state, you may not see the point of things; simple pleasures lose all meaning,
you lack any sense of purpose, basically you are feeling a bit "meh."</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I can attest to that. A global pandemic sort of does
that to you. What’s the point of booking a holiday when you know the chances of
it being cancelled are so high? Last year I ended up taking my summer holiday
in December. Why organise meeting friends when the border between England and
Wales keeps opening and closing with more regularity than Tower Bridge? My
second “home” at Theatr Clwyd was closed, along with theatres up and down the
UK, so there was nothing to get excited about – let alone blog about. Happily,
things are now starting to change, and there is a light at the end of the
tunnel. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Blindness – Theatr Clwyd – Thursday 17<sup>th</sup>
June</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji";">📅</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> <b>Mon 14<sup>th</sup> June – Sat 19th
June<o:p></o:p></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Running time 70 mins</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 35.45pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;">In
the heart of a European city, the lights change at a major crossroads. A car
grinds to a halt. Its driver, without warning, has gone blind. Within hours, it
becomes obvious that this blindness has started to spread throughout the city.
The government tries to contain what has become an epidemic by quarantining those
infected in a disused asylum. In a panic driven city, are these measures
enough, or will they contribute to something more sinister?</span></i></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: left;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gw9aJv58_Sg/YNURISJMw6I/AAAAAAAAPt0/7AqCDbrN9WsZGUpaQBoCQr2SxgLZUPKowCLcBGAsYHQ/s905/Blindness%2BTC.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="905" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gw9aJv58_Sg/YNURISJMw6I/AAAAAAAAPt0/7AqCDbrN9WsZGUpaQBoCQr2SxgLZUPKowCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Blindness%2BTC.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">It feels so strange to finally be walking back through
the theatre doors. Even stranger, after sanitising my hands and giving my contact
details, I’m told to sit down in the bar and someone will come for me. I’m then
called forward and asked to accompany a member of staff through the door
reserved for actors/staff. I walk onto a very dark stage. I’m told there will
only be three ticket holders for this performance, but that a member of staff
will sit with us for the duration of the performance. I’m shown to my seat and
told to put on the headphones that are laid out for me. I’m also told there is
a torch beneath my seat should I feel the need to use it to make my escape…but
if I leave, I won’t be allowed to return.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>I’m starting to feel a little anxious, a
little unnerved as to what to expect. </i></b></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Based on the 1995 novel by the Portuguese author José
Saramago, Blindness is the gripping story of the rise and fall of an
unimaginable global pandemic. I know what you’re probably thinking dear reader,
why “watch” a play about a global pandemic when we’re currently already living
through one. The only answer I can give you is that I’ve read a number of books
about plagues throughout lockdown and the reactions of the people and
governments fascinated me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">I used the term “watch” because there are no actors on
stage to observe. Blackness surrounds you. The stage is a stark set of spaced-out
wooden chairs which adds to the feeling of isolation, and fluorescent lights
hang vertically and horizontally from the ceiling.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MY7aDhwqkJI/YNUP_n0iETI/AAAAAAAAPts/q69nAYcpGFkpUXTMJGCGAw7RYpzkt2FKwCLcBGAsYHQ/s877/Blindness-at-the-Donmar-Warehouse.-Photo-by-Helen-Maybanks-02_71cf85432501894f00c5c4081aaf6408.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="501" data-original-width="877" height="229" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MY7aDhwqkJI/YNUP_n0iETI/AAAAAAAAPts/q69nAYcpGFkpUXTMJGCGAw7RYpzkt2FKwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h229/Blindness-at-the-Donmar-Warehouse.-Photo-by-Helen-Maybanks-02_71cf85432501894f00c5c4081aaf6408.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blindness-at-the-Donmar-Warehouse.-Photo-by-Helen-Maybanks</td></tr></tbody></table>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">The story is played out through the headset, voiced by
Juliet Stevenson playing the role of both narrator and Dr’s wife. Throughout
the play the lights change colour as the story progresses…until suddenly, there
is total blackout.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">During lockdown I watched The Encounter by Complicite
(Barbican Theatre – digital) on my laptop, it was one-man retelling another man's
story and you felt as though you were with him as he trekked through the jungle;
but because I was in the sanctity of my own home it lost some of the intensity it
would have held in a live theatre environment. Even having watched that
performance, it didn’t prepare me for how engrossed I would be, sitting on a
stage, listening to a play through headphones. As I was emersed into darkness,
it felt as though Juliet Stevenson was whispering directly into my left ear. I
physically flinched and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and at
one point, I even tucked my outstretched legs underneath my chair so she wouldn’t
fall over them as she brushed past me!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">It was an extraordinary experience. It wasn’t like
listening to an audio book, the <span style="color: black;">immersive binaural
sound design by <strong style="box-sizing: border-box;">Ben and Max Ringham
</strong><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">submerged you straight into
the heart of this dystopian landscape. Like many Saramago novels, the
characters are not given names, instead they are referred to as "the
doctor's wife", "the car thief", "the first blind man or
"the girl with the dark glasses". This, along with the unidentified
place or country in which the pandemic occurs, increases the timelessness and universal
appeal of the play, making it a “must-see” production if the opportunity arises.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><strong><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></strong><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 21.3pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>Blindness UK Tour 2021</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 21.3pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">From May – July
2021, <b><i>Blindness</i></b> will tour to seven venues across the
UK:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 21.3pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">from 28 May <a href="https://www.oxfordplayhouse.com/">Oxford Playhouse</a><br />
w/c 7 June <a href="https://www.thelbt.org/">Lawrence Batley Theatre,
Huddersfield</a><br />
w/c 14 June <a href="https://www.theatrclwyd.com/">Theatr Clwyd</a><br />
w/c 21 June <a href="https://www.yvonne-arnaud.co.uk/">Yvonne Arnaud,
Guildford</a><br />
w/c 28 June <a href="https://www.capitaltheatres.com/your-visit/festival-theatre">Festival
Theatre, Edinburgh</a><br />
w/c 5 July <a href="https://eden-court.co.uk/">Eden Court, Inverness</a><br />
w/c 12 July <a href="https://www.lighthousepoole.co.uk/">Lighthouse, Poole</a><o:p></o:p></span></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-7486748546478239632020-10-30T17:26:00.001+00:002021-06-22T15:49:19.653+01:00Troubled Blood – Robert Galbraith (JK Rowling)<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zHXxwVLRGtQ/X5xBxOMs5aI/AAAAAAAAPSw/QL02nYaBOv8I1OWq2h9J_XLXWzj_M3ehwCLcBGAsYHQ/s500/TB.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="325" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zHXxwVLRGtQ/X5xBxOMs5aI/AAAAAAAAPSw/QL02nYaBOv8I1OWq2h9J_XLXWzj_M3ehwCLcBGAsYHQ/w416-h640/TB.jpg" width="416" /></a></div><div><span style="font-size: 16pt;">2020,
the year of constant surprises. I’ve never been a huge JK Rowling fan (I mean
her books, not the person. I’ve never met the woman so I can’t comment on
her personally, unlike the Twitter dunderheads who like to misconstrue
everything they read.) I have to give her credit for her vivid imagination and
her wealth of knowledge and the amount of research she must undertake before
putting pen to paper, but for me, her writing is prone to too much repetition
which detracts from what could be an excellent read.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So why do I read the Strike books if I’m not a fan of her
writing? Easy. Tom Burke plays the lead in the TV adaptations and with it he
has brought an interesting, complex character to life, one full of charm, charisma,
and sparkle. I’ve become invested in the character; I want to know what the
next instalment is about and what the future holds for Strike. So, for me to
keep up with Strike, and to not feel like I’m wasting any of my day, I turned
to Audible books for both Lethal White and Troubled Blood. This way I could go
for a walk or do chores and “read” at the same time.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M9G64hH1zLw/X5xDx-psNcI/AAAAAAAAPS8/_xL67j_YEOkGAbu8-hK1fqad4LC3cvVGgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20201003_144541.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1616" data-original-width="2048" height="504" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M9G64hH1zLw/X5xDx-psNcI/AAAAAAAAPS8/_xL67j_YEOkGAbu8-hK1fqad4LC3cvVGgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h504/20201003_144541.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>As the orotund voice of Robert Glenister began permeating my
ears, I realised that the format of this book was to be the same as the others.
Each chapter to be preceded by a quotation…this time it was Edmund Spenser’s
The Faerie Queen. I hit pause, puzzled. It rang a distant bell in my memory and
so I trotted over to the bookcase and pulled out my battered Norton’s Anthology
of English Literature. Ah yes…there it was…battered and having obviously seen
all of its 25 years of service, there was the page marker for Edmund Spencer, and
more importantly the Cantos of The Fairey Queen. Forgetting I was supposed to
be listening to Strikes adventures, I started pouring over the old verses and
the associated notes I’d scribbled throughout the margins. <br /><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><i><u><span style="font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">Chekov
or Hemingway?<o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Anyone familiar with Chekov will undoubtedly remember his
principal “If in Act One you have a pistol hanging on the wall, then it must
fire in the last act.” As we enter Strikes world for the fifth time, we find
him in Cornwall, visiting his terminally ill aunt, and catching up with his
oldest friend Dave Polworth<span style="color: red;"> </span>in the pub. The
question of marriage arises, and in the defence of marriage, Polworth quotes
from another Russian literary giant, Tolstoy’s <i>Anna Karenina</i>. With Strike coming back to his childhood “home”
Cornwall and all the people he loved there, Robin dealing with a long and acrimonious
divorce, and Strike’s ex Charlotte causing him no end of emotional reckoning,
surely the poignant quote must have a bearing by the end of the novel. Or is
JKR following Hemingway, whereby inconsequential details are just part of the
plot?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In a departure for Strike and Robin,
they take on the 40-year-old cold case of a doctor who mysteriously vanished
one night. The client gives Strike a year to solve the case, and what a year it
will be for both Cormoran and Robin. Many of the original witnesses for the
case are dead, and for those still alive, how accurate will their memory of
events be? Looking through the notes of the original chief detective on the
case, it was apparent he was suffering with his mental health. Were his notes a
sign of madness, or was there something more to his readings of tarot and astrological
charts?<span></span></p><a name='more'></a> <o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Of course, whilst this is the main plot
of Troubled Blood, other cases still need to be undertaken by the agency and so
we meet a couple of new characters who are now working for Strike. Robin’s
position has been elevated; a necessity required as Cormoran has family
troubles which need to take priority over his business.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This was the first time I felt any real affinity with Strike,
and as I listened to Robert Glenister’s words, I found myself picturing my own
version of Strike rather than the one I see on my TV. Cormoran has figuratively
shed some layers of skin, not baring his soul in its entirety, but allowing the
reader a quick peek in. In those first few chapters, JKR painted a great family
dynamic and a portrait of Strike’s life in Cornwall. This was where attention
to those little details mattered; the prized dried flowers in a vase which Strike’s
bulky frame had to tip toe carefully around. The plates hung carefully on the
walls of Ted and Joan’s house – that feeling of nostalgia to times gone by –
which make you automatically warm to both characters.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I laughed out loud towards the start of the book when Strike
told his half-sister his true feelings towards his nephews. I loved his bravery
and brutal honesty. There are times where I have wanted to scream at parents
who let their children run riot in cafes, to those who are too busy chatting,
or just couldn’t care less about what their little darlings get up to. Those
entitled folk who are left aghast when the final straw snaps and someone gives
them a dose of reality, that really their precious child is a precocious brat who
wouldn’t be harmed if they heard the word “no” from time to time. I wished I
could take on board Strike’s ‘couldn’t give a toss’ manner. It was so refreshing
to hear someone say that, actually it’s not alright, when something you care
about has been broken. Whilst a broken object might not be the end of the
world, its more about what that item signifies which is important, and the
earlier that children understand actions have consequences, the better. I could
have given Strike a massive bear hug during both scenes!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><i><u><span style="font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">“an
angry bald looking monkey”<o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The humour continued as Strike’s patience was further tested
as he interviewed two witnesses who had worked at St John’s medical practice, Janice
Beattie and Irene Bull. Irene was the mouthpiece, totally unstoppable, she wanted
to be the centre of attention, talking over her friend despite Strike trying to
put questions to Janice. A vision formed in my mind of who Irene reminded me of
and I couldn’t stop laughing. As the conversation was interrupted by a bad case
of IBS, my mirth turned into hysteria and I needed to find somewhere to rest to
gather my senses back together. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Just when I didn’t think I could love Strike anymore, Robin
became an aunt, and as she proudly showed off the new baby pictures, Strike
thought it looked like “an angry bald looking monkey,” although this time he
was sensitive enough not to actually say it. And as Strike lost his temper in a
bar, I was torn between laughing at the horror of it all, and the pain and embarrassment
of Robin who found herself stuck in the middle of the mayhem. This scene
allowed for Strike and Robin to have a candid conversation with each other
afterwards, which became a defining moment in the book and one I look forward
to watching when the TV adaptation finally airs.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As well as immense joy, the book gave way to pain, and as
Strike sat with his dying aunt I was transported back to being a child,
refusing to go to bed because that was the night I felt my mother would die. As
I remembered that prophecy coming true, I shared Strike’s pain of sitting
helplessly beside a loved one’s bedside. Aunt Joan, and my mother, strong women
who were adamant they would spend their last nights in the home they loved, and
I wept with him as the inevitable happened. It had taken until the fifth book
for me to get emotionally involved with both Strike and Robin, I laughed when
then did, and I shared in their pain. All the scenes in this book had been
carefully constructed; all of the characters fully formed whether they were
loathsome or not. For once I was gripped by a JK Rowling book until the bitter
end because it felt as though time and care had been devoted to it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><i><u><span style="font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">Petty
with an axe to grind.</span></u></i></b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i8q6T803Mbo/X5xKiLAAcuI/AAAAAAAAPTI/XMuJns8PDxERa8Lt9LI2zrDj1Dp88vmMwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20201030_165941.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1133" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i8q6T803Mbo/X5xKiLAAcuI/AAAAAAAAPTI/XMuJns8PDxERa8Lt9LI2zrDj1Dp88vmMwCLcBGAsYHQ/w354-h640/20201030_165941.jpg" width="354" /></a></div>I was enthralled with trying to establish who the killer was.
I found it interesting the differences between the Thoth tarot mentioned in the
book to the Rider Waite tarot I was more familiar with. I enjoyed hearing the
astrological interpretations of characters. As a Virgo, hearing that they are “<i>petty
with an axe to grind”</i> had me laughing out loud during one of my long walks;
probably because it was perhaps a little too close to the truth! Dorothy Oakden
– the secretary at the medical practice the doctor went missing from – was also
a Virgo. She was described as clever, organised and nervous. I rather liked these
character traits, I’m often nervous but try to hide it – perhaps if I didn’t overthink
things I wouldn’t get so nervous, and I’m very organised at work, although by
the time I get home chaos starts to reign. It was only then that I started to
wonder what sign I would be under the astrological claims of Steven Schmidt’s Astrology
14 which is referenced in Troubled Blood. Apparently, I’m Leo – a strongly
independent person making both strong friends and strong enemies…sounds like
Marmite, either loved or hated, there’s nothing in between! Reading the notes
on Leo and Virgo, they both pointed to an individual that doesn’t suffer fools,
an independent individual, and I guess if you have to be categorised as
something, they aren’t bad traits to possess.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m not saying the book is perfect though, and as I listened,
I still had my imaginary red pen in hand deleting lines that were unnecessary
and causing me annoyance. I was pleased that there was a lot less “editing”
required in Troubled Blood than Lethal White which had my hackles up from the
very start!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I do appreciate that JKR issues reminders of what has gone
on in Robin and Strike’s past histories; it serves as a reminder from one book
to the next and also benefits those who may have not read a Strike novel before.
What I don’t need is to be constantly reminded about the same things throughout
the same book. Did we really need reminding about that gorilla mask as many
times as we were? Did we need to be spoon fed that whilst Strike sat in his BMW
(surely the amount of times that was mentioned a deal must have been cut with
the car firm) reading passages from a book, he was still continuing to monitor
the suspect he was sat watching and that they hadn’t passed him by? These instances
grated, but not sufficiently to put me off the book, indeed I found the book addictive
and rather wish I’d joined the masses and read it on the day it was published!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the past I had tried to read the Harry Potter series, but
I gave up halfway through reading book four. I was lazing down the Warwickshire
ring on a narrowboat at the time. I had all the time in the world to read,
sitting on the roof of the boot with a beer in hand, but still the book nearly
got flung into the canal. It was tedious, it was repetitive, it had too much description
of inconsequential characters. I thought of writers like Ursula K Le Guin and
her Earthsea fantasy, or Susan Cooper and her fantastic The Dark is Rising
series of books which I still go back to and read nearly 40 years after they
were bought for me. I never really understood Harry Potter. It was the same
with the Strike books. What was JKR trying to achieve? Was she writing a
detective novel, a romance novel – what genre and audience was she trying to
reach? Reading Troubled Blood, I realised that question didn’t matter anymore.
The books are about Strike and Robin – they just happen to be detectives; so
whilst that aspect is important, so is their relationship, and Troubled Blood
is the book that finally defines how integral they are to each other’s success.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p>This was an intriguing book on many levels, and I was
genuinely surprised that my hunch over the culprit was correct. Whilst the book
finished, on what for me was an apt ending, I couldn’t help but realise that in a split
second of the story ending, I had turned into one of JKR’s millions of fans - desperate to know what book 6 held in store. More importantly, I want to know when
it will be released. I never thought I’d hear myself say that! It also made me
think I’d revisit the book properly in due course, and by that I mean I might
treat myself to a copy of the paperback when it comes out (even if I won't be waving it under Tom’s nose to sign like I did with books 1-3!)</p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-42110218853739515522020-10-20T22:27:00.094+01:002020-10-23T10:20:05.203+01:00Falling Angels in the Garden of Good and Evil (John Berendt)<p><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SMe1hDYmDCc/X49MPO03j_I/AAAAAAAAOtw/SueOZU5xNL8dIJLfx9IEDmmAJw6uzKLXACLcBGAsYHQ/s1913/20201020_213722-2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1508" data-original-width="1913" height="252" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SMe1hDYmDCc/X49MPO03j_I/AAAAAAAAOtw/SueOZU5xNL8dIJLfx9IEDmmAJw6uzKLXACLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h252/20201020_213722-2.jpg" width="320" /></a><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">The last
holiday I partook was a week up in Scotland (Lauder) last Christmas. It
was sublime; a chalet in the middle of a working farm, bedecked with Christmas
trees and lights, and surrounded by various livestock. Being December, it meant there
were long evenings in which to amuse oneself, and whilst it was the perfect
setting to sit in a hot tub every night, there’s only so much wallowing and
Prosecco that can be consumed in a week. I needed a book to read and the novel I'd grabbed and chucked into my rucksack this time was:</span></i></p><p><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></i></p><p><b><i><span style="color: #800180;"><span style="font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;"><u>Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil</u> </span><span style="line-height: 107%;">by John Berendt</span></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fnQxQPPIA2E/X4sjlA6kDJI/AAAAAAAAOs4/vdFXc4jHB78zUDXSjTOvxk3o0eD5zpquQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2514/20200919_133858-2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2514" data-original-width="1251" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fnQxQPPIA2E/X4sjlA6kDJI/AAAAAAAAOs4/vdFXc4jHB78zUDXSjTOvxk3o0eD5zpquQCLcBGAsYHQ/w318-h640/20200919_133858-2.jpg" width="318" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The book is based on a true story, a crime classic published in 1994, set in a world of highly
original literary characters who only required the author to weave their tales
together to produce this compelling gothic tale of a Savannah society. Settling
back on the veranda of the lodge, mug of tea in hand, I travelled to America to be alarmed,
entertained and to laugh out loud with these overtly colourful characters.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The
main narrative of the book is the shooting of Danny Hansford. Shots are heard
ringing out of the home of respected antiques dealer Jim Williams in the
early hours of 2<sup>nd</sup> May 1981. For a decade, the question that
required an answer was whether the shooting was murder or self-defence. Jim
Williams maintained that the killing was in self-defence and that Danny (his
employee and also a male prostitute) was prone to losing his temper, and, on
this occasion, had grabbed a gun that was on display and pointed it at him. He
had therefore shot back to protect himself and he testified that the murder had
not been premeditated in any way. The complexities around the shooting, and a desire for the truth led to four murder trials taking place; the fourth eventually being moved outside of Savannah so that a different jury
could be sworn in.</span><span style="color: red; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span style="color: #800180; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">“there is truth in the Hebrew fable, that the knowledge of Good
and Evil brings forth Death.”</span></i></b><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #800180;"> Alestair Crowley</span><span style="color: #7030a0;"></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span style="color: red; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt;">Whilst
the book is based on real events and real people, the narrative has been amended
to make this a first-person account of the proceedings that unfolded in 1981. John
Berendt didn’t meet Jim Williams until after Jim had stood trail for the first
time and been convicted of Hapsford’s murder, and he didn’t move to Savannah
until after Williams had stood trail for a second time and once again been
convicted of murder. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt;">Many of the episodes Berendt describes are reconstructions of
events, so that Berendt can put himself right in the midst of the action. Also,
the other characters that he met in real life were all after the murder of
Danny Hansford, but the narrative flows better with Berendt having met them
before the event. The timeline might be off, but the narratives of those people
were pretty much verbatim.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The
real star of the show is Savannah herself, bold and eccentric. Berendt
describes the rich history of the place and the transformations being
undertaken to try to move the city forward, rather than it keeping its talons
stuck firmly in the past. It is a fascinating tale and John meets a plethora of
remarkable people:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The Married Woman’s
Card Club.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The young redneck
gigolo.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The recluse with a
bottle of poison strong enough to kill the entire community.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The aging and profane southern
belle.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The Lady Chablis, a flamboyant and entertaining drag queen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The arrogant antiques
dealer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The man walking an
imaginary dog so that he will always receive an income from a bequest.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">And Minerva, the voodoo
priestess who works her magic in the graveyard at midnight.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">In
fact, the characters are all so unique and intriguing, you get swept along by
their tales and forget that the main narrative is that of a real life murder and
the loss of a young man’s life. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The
book is a true modern classic and after I read it, I began to notice that it
appears on many “books to read before you die” type lists. I imagine that it
appears because it is a peculiar and distinctive tale, which is part true-crime drama, part
travelogue and part insight into the idiosyncratic nature of people. It is a well compiled and charming text, so much so, that you can forgive Berendt for tweaking the facts
to make a more compelling novel.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Once I
returned home, I checked to see if Berendt had written anymore books. It
just so happened that he had and it was about one of my favourite places in
the world, Venice. I thought I’d wait until my Easter break before reading it,
however, little did I know we'd be under Welsh Govt house arrest for most of 2020 and relaxing holiday breaks would become a thing of the past. I couldn't have known that my first holiday opportunity of the year would end up being in October; nor that it would be during a time of local and then national lockdown. The week of reading from a hot tub
overlooking Pendine beach was cancelled. </span></i><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">So instead of bubbles and a book in a hot tub,
it was gin and a chaise longue at home…and finally, a look into the Stygian underworld of the
pretty city of Venezia.</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QAcmFUB4IYE/X49HRiX4PJI/AAAAAAAAOtc/JjmFAfdtI4cof0zs1y6EPjldTshi9EfuACLcBGAsYHQ/s2964/Venice%2BSept%2B2012%2B230%2B%25282%2529-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1061" data-original-width="2964" height="230" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QAcmFUB4IYE/X49HRiX4PJI/AAAAAAAAOtc/JjmFAfdtI4cof0zs1y6EPjldTshi9EfuACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h230/Venice%2BSept%2B2012%2B230%2B%25282%2529-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #800180;"><b><i><span style="font-size: 22pt; line-height: 107%;"><u>The City of Falling Angels</u> <u><o:p></o:p></u></span></i></b><b><i><span style="line-height: 17.12px;">by John Berendt</span></i></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">In
a similar vein to his first book, Berendt takes a real-life starting point – in
this instance the fire that destroyed La Fenice theatre in 1996 – and weaves a
tale of fantastical, extraordinary Venetian characters around it. Who could
believe that behind the façade of the world’s most beautiful and romantic city,
a world of bribery, corruption and scandal flows around those seemingly tranquil
canals? <i>“The key to understanding Venetians is rhythm – the rhythm of the
lagoon, the rhythm of the water, the tides, the waves…”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">This
is an engaging journey around the waterways of a city that has fascinated the
likes of Ernest Hemingway, Henry James, Lord Byron and John Ruskin. Filmmakers
throughout time have rushed to Venice to capture its unique allure. Indeed, it
was the star of the show on The Souvenir posters that advertised the Joanna
Hogg/Tom Burke 2019 film. But behind the captivating images lurks a darker
side, a side that gives Venice more colour than its annual Carnivale, and more
perplexing conundrums than you’d ever find on an episode of Countdown.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q0v-uotHYKs/X49HkWWQ9wI/AAAAAAAAOtk/vNBWJBsY_D0ATcE8OAmaALTTnNQHAN0XACLcBGAsYHQ/s3178/Venice%2BSept%2B2012%2B196.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1592" data-original-width="3178" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q0v-uotHYKs/X49HkWWQ9wI/AAAAAAAAOtk/vNBWJBsY_D0ATcE8OAmaALTTnNQHAN0XACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h320/Venice%2BSept%2B2012%2B196.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><b><i><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">“Everyone in Venice is acting,” “Everyone plays a role, and the
role changes.”</span></i></b><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">John
Berendt arrives in the city three days after the city’s famous opera house has
burnt down during a restoration project…the question on the citizens lips is
whether the fire was an accident…or arson. As Berendt tries to find the answer,
he is lulled into the stories that make up the various residents of the city as told by:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The Rat Man of Treviso.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The American poet Ezra
Pound and his mistress Olga Rudge.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Mario Moro – soldier,
fireman, or airman, depending on what day of the week you see him and what uniform
he has available to wear.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Peggy Guggenheim.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Mayor Massimo Cacciari.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Countess Marcello, of Save Venice, an American organisation set up to assist with the
restoration of Venetian art and architecture.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Archimede Seguso, the
master glassblower famed for his vases depicting the fire.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Even my own favourite
Venetian, the architect and historian Francesco da Mosto makes an appearance as bids are put forth to secure the job of rebuilding the iconic theatre. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Somehow, Berendt has taken people under his wing, he has managed to lull private,
unapproachable people and gained their confidence to speak candidly with him.
The result is a compelling but humorous book about a complex city, which not
only affords a beautiful backdrop for movie makers, but it delivers them an
inconceivable story that is told from its very heart.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-htpGwTaXcrc/X49SNXywTmI/AAAAAAAAOuE/B7Swc0iVX90WUN6MW1zhjzgJPryt53iCACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/2020-10-20%2B%25283%2529.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1229" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-htpGwTaXcrc/X49SNXywTmI/AAAAAAAAOuE/B7Swc0iVX90WUN6MW1zhjzgJPryt53iCACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h384/2020-10-20%2B%25283%2529.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> La Fenice theatre Venice - a still from Joanna Hogg's film </div><div style="text-align: center;">The Souvenir </div><div style="text-align: center;">starring Tom Burke and Honor Swinton Byrne</div></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #7030a0; line-height: 107%;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></div><br /></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-697933037771141322020-10-15T16:09:00.001+01:002020-10-18T13:44:41.649+01:00Walks in Mysterious Cheshire and Wirral by Tony Bowerman (Walk 10 - Little Budworth)<div class="separator"><i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 14pt; text-align: center;"><br /></div><b><div class="separator" style="font-size: 14pt;"><i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T0uUV_u0-2U/X4hlKYMuctI/AAAAAAAAOsk/PJ9Z06AT4SI6ln0VY0q7avDGo1abfIB-gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1776/20201015_155731.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1316" data-original-width="1776" height="474" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T0uUV_u0-2U/X4hlKYMuctI/AAAAAAAAOsk/PJ9Z06AT4SI6ln0VY0q7avDGo1abfIB-gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h474/20201015_155731.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="font-size: 14pt;"><i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></span></i></div><div class="separator" style="font-size: 14pt;"><i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></span></i></div><div class="separator" style="font-size: 14pt;"><i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></span></i></div><div class="separator" style="font-size: 14pt;"><i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></span></i></div><div class="separator" style="font-size: 14pt;"><i style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">“</span></b></span></i><i style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Fancy doing
a walk Saturday or Sunday?”</span></b></span></i></div></span></b></span></i></div></b></span></i></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-size: x-large; line-height: 107%;"><b>“Yeah,
sounds good to me.” <o:p></o:p></b></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><b>“I
thought we could do a walk in Little Budworth and hopefully find a spot by the
lake for a picnic.”</b></span><o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>In Norman times, much of Cheshire was covered by four forests. To the west was Wirral Forest which had been substantially cleared, Macclesfield Forest covered the east Pennine slopes, whilst the central part of Cheshire was covered by the forests of Mara (now Delamere) and Mondrum. Back in those times, forests were no more than wastelands which were protected by laws so that the privileged may hunt in them. The forests were a patchwork of mixed oak woodlands and open lowland heath dotted with meres. Up until the 14<sup>th</sup> century, wolf packs could be found hunting amongst the cover of the trees, and both red and fallow deer grazed the lands until they were hunted out during the 17<sup>th</sup> century Civil War. Rare birds such as merlins, hobbys and sparrowhawks graced the skies, whilst swarms of bees gathered nectar for honey. Until the 1800s, Little Budworth was called Budworth-Le-Frith, from the Welsh for woodland <span style="font-family: georgia;">ffridd</span>. By the 17<sup>th</sup> century, as the forests were cleared and settlements began to spring up, Mondrum was no longer forest…that is, apart from the most worthless part, Little Budworth Common. This was the last vestige of the forest to remain standing, and this was where today’s walk was going take us.</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-epl4bOG4OoU/X4g7Fu4FzxI/AAAAAAAAOps/cEPhx4MiqmININNgLAyJZ7HzYV2gTkPTQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200919_112542-2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1210" height="378" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-epl4bOG4OoU/X4g7Fu4FzxI/AAAAAAAAOps/cEPhx4MiqmININNgLAyJZ7HzYV2gTkPTQCLcBGAsYHQ/w223-h378/20200919_112542-2.jpg" width="223" /></a></i>For once, the guidebook showed what looked like an ample
sized carpark. This didn’t stop me from driving straight past it, and
having looked in my rear-view mirror, I screeched to a halt and reversed back
up the road to turn into it. Kate arrived shortly after, and after dancing
around the carpark with the “are we, are we not allowed to do huggy hello’s”
nonsense, we got our walking boots on and checked what the book said about the
start of the walk.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="font-size: 16px; font-style: italic;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">“From the car park, go through a narrow gap in the fence, on the opposite side of the car park to the toilets, and walk past the large sculptured chair.”</span></i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">“Ermmmm, I can’t see a fence” I stated. “When it says
opposite the toilets, does it mean like directly opposite…or does it mean
where that large wooden board is that’s kinda to the right of the toilets??”
Kate looked non the wiser and just shrugged. Hmm…. “let’s go investigate the
big wooden board” I suggested. (Oh this walk was going brilliantly, we couldn’t
even find our way out of the car park!) “I think we should go in here” I
suggested, and a few metres later I suddenly spied a large sculptured chair and
nearly wet myself with excitement. Suddenly I felt like Anneka Rice on Treasure
Hunt. All was not lost and it seemed neither were we, as we strode off
confidently on the start of our 3 mile walk around the village of Little
Budworth.</p><a name='more'></a><p></p>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aQtOUyZFJvU/X4hVSCJ5mOI/AAAAAAAAOqU/PDgojDJVM0QFbOOOTq30-JtDGcBXFxkagCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200919_113356-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" height="314" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aQtOUyZFJvU/X4hVSCJ5mOI/AAAAAAAAOqU/PDgojDJVM0QFbOOOTq30-JtDGcBXFxkagCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h314/20200919_113356-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mw32HPEQR34/X4hWZ4opQrI/AAAAAAAAOqg/s3HW_orgwlUroPPDLGwUPINZrc2fsqhqQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200919_113507-2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2543" data-original-width="1236" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mw32HPEQR34/X4hWZ4opQrI/AAAAAAAAOqg/s3HW_orgwlUroPPDLGwUPINZrc2fsqhqQCLcBGAsYHQ/w312-h640/20200919_113507-2.jpg" width="312" /></a></div>As we wound our way around the woods where Birch and aged
Oak trees rustled in the breeze, and the canes of wild raspberries slowly whipped
back and forth, our path crossed a wide tarmac track which led to some wrought
iron gates. Inside the gates an avenue of tall lime trees stretched towards a
black and white building, this was White Hall, the former residence of the
Earls of Shrewsbury who were the landowners, alongside the nearby Egerton
family of Oulton Park. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">The track quickly narrowed into a sandy path, bypassing a
boggy pool which used to grow watercress which was sold as far away as London.
Today though, it is best to leave whatever watercress that grows there alone
for fears of the parasite liver fluke. Walking down this narrow path, flanked
by ferns and fields of horses, it was as if you had travelled back in time to
before the First World War. The network of paths and tracks were a constant
reminder of a time gone by, when the land was shared out evenly, before being
taken over by leasehold and freehold tenures. We kept our eyes peeled for a
deep, narrow sunken path which was heavily overgrown with wild broom. This
restricted byway was quite easy to miss, it became like walking through hobbit
country, with no idea of what you would find at journey’s end.</span></div></div><p class="MsoNormal">The path eventually opened out and we were facing a swift running stream and a very overgrown stile. It looked as though the stile lead to a clear path running along the right-hand side of the stream, so we opted to take the dry path instead. The path, however, was on the wrong side of stream and didn’t match what I was looking at on the map. Whilst we debated whether we should head back to the stile, two horses & their riders started coming towards us and made our minds up, we’d definitely gone wrong and we did need to go across the stile. I made my way across telling Kate to wait until I’d found out if it was the right way or not and promptly got sucked into the boggy ground underfoot. “I think it’d be better if you just head through that gate” I shouted…”I can see another stile ahead that goes into the field, I’m coming back as it’s getting a bit too marshy for my liking!” </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YsZUUK8-jvw/X4hdpe2Zg_I/AAAAAAAAOrw/Y_G-HCIFZzI0KlNMvKdk0vOeZKAz5i2iACLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200919_121614-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" height="312" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YsZUUK8-jvw/X4hdpe2Zg_I/AAAAAAAAOrw/Y_G-HCIFZzI0KlNMvKdk0vOeZKAz5i2iACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h312/20200919_121614-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">At the top of a field ran a narrow path beside a house. Just
opposite was a large field of cows. “We’re not going through the field of cows are
we?” Kate asked. “Ermmmmm??” Turns out the unpopular answer was yes. I hate
crossing cow fields – I’ve had a few near misses in my time, so the less time I
have to spend with a large herd the better. We started skirting around the edge
of the field before locating the exit far away in the distance. “Oh bugger!” I
said, “head up, look confident but not directly at them, we’re going to have to
march straight through them all!” Fortunately none of the cows seemed too
concerned about our presence until the pair of us had cleared the stile out of
the field and were standing in the middle of road trying to work out where to
head next. Only then did some come to inspect where we had fled to.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xBG4g-OAT4o/X4hdxlB6XsI/AAAAAAAAOr0/clL0idT3ozwt5fnweNZLLhKMbGG0-0mDwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2575/20200919_121618-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1221" data-original-width="2575" height="304" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xBG4g-OAT4o/X4hdxlB6XsI/AAAAAAAAOr0/clL0idT3ozwt5fnweNZLLhKMbGG0-0mDwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h304/20200919_121618-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SPcLHkmj7JY/X4hcYCMBDhI/AAAAAAAAOrQ/_Q5E2Bk8HQsAO1dfeoDDc-VfkfxCkDl8QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200919_122854-2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /><br /></a></div>Further up the road was a lane that two different horse
riders were heading down, it looked promising, so we followed them. Seeing the overgrown
path narrow, and the dots of horse and rider ahead of us, we thought it’d be a
good idea to ignore the actual path and walk on the edge of the field that ran
beside instead. Half-way down the field we suddenly noticed the field was going
up, the path going down, and it didn’t look they were going to meet again.
“Bollocks! We need to head back and join the path somehow” I said. I’m not sure
who at this point was the most put out at these extra metres we were adding to our
“leisurely” walk. <o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_dIxHOHl39E/X4hfi3IRgbI/AAAAAAAAOsM/nl9mK3ggZqMrNiX3drQfaKo-dwAeIenPgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200919_122854-2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2543" data-original-width="1236" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_dIxHOHl39E/X4hfi3IRgbI/AAAAAAAAOsM/nl9mK3ggZqMrNiX3drQfaKo-dwAeIenPgCLcBGAsYHQ/w156-h320/20200919_122854-2.jpg" width="156" /></a></div>The lane was originally part of an old cattle drovers road
that ran between Helsby in Cheshire, and Oswestry in Shropshire. The number of green
lanes surrounding Little Budworth made it a favourite haunt for travellers, and
in the 18<sup>th</sup> century the nearby Beggars Bank was a regular stopping
place for the “Dukes of Little Egypt” – or gypsies. It was a place that they
could park up their wagons and relax amongst their own kind – something they
had to be careful of, as it was till an offence to be a gypsy until 1784 when
it was a criminal offence. It wasn’t where we were going to stop however, we
were going to have a picnic by the lake!<p></p><div>As we reached the end of a path, a stile confirmed we needed
to cross a horse paddock in order to reach Budworth Mere. Two beautiful horses
were preoccupied with munching the grass surrounding them and ignored us both
as we passed them by. We were both happy to saunter past them with a normal
heartbeat, rather than the heart attack inducing cows that had preceded us
earlier. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OJxILwMTtT0/X4hfCNaSV4I/AAAAAAAAOsE/ELJfdXrWVfw3fOEqF7DBeFfqMAzJx3sagCLcBGAsYHQ/s2544/20200919_123426-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2544" height="310" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OJxILwMTtT0/X4hfCNaSV4I/AAAAAAAAOsE/ELJfdXrWVfw3fOEqF7DBeFfqMAzJx3sagCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h310/20200919_123426-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>As the reeds of the mere came into sight that thought of tea and
sandwiches came to mind, but sadly this was not to be. The mere is the home of
Tarporley Angling Club and the shores are strictly off limits to the lowly
walker. We paused, a little disappointed, and watched the swans floating by
before heading up the road towards Saint Peter’s Church.</div><div><o:p></o:p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qu3bZvIIkE8/X4hdSuzngAI/AAAAAAAAOro/iU6pgPjGzG0HBF9NFgYoNH0aFoIKGP4NgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200919_124002-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" height="312" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qu3bZvIIkE8/X4hdSuzngAI/AAAAAAAAOro/iU6pgPjGzG0HBF9NFgYoNH0aFoIKGP4NgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h312/20200919_124002-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Built between 1490 and 1526, the simple stone tower forms
the oldest part of the church and is covered in carved faces and gargoyles. Up
until the early part of this century, the tower housed an iron brazier on the
roof that had held a beacon as a means of signalling from one village to
another during wartime. The church originally belonged to the nunnery of St
Mary’s in Chester, but in 1800, a local farmer’s son, who was a wealthy merchant,
paid for “the red stone building with wooden side aisles” to be rebuilt in
stone blocks measuring 6ft long in a Georgian style. A later restoration
project in 1870 would see all the inner fittings being stripped from the church
bar a Georgian pulpit and a 17<sup>th</sup> century font carved from fossilised
marble. Outside, in the graveyard, there is an account from 1757 which states
that Henry Lovett, The King of the Gypsies is buried by the rails opposite the
Chancel, under a large stone marker. He died in 1745 at the age of 85.</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VJBy6Mr47M4/X4hdAV8gYYI/AAAAAAAAOrg/EIE_C3Tuzv0JK8llDsfdTNPbb0hI5XPIACLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200919_134008-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" height="312" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VJBy6Mr47M4/X4hdAV8gYYI/AAAAAAAAOrg/EIE_C3Tuzv0JK8llDsfdTNPbb0hI5XPIACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h312/20200919_134008-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />A bench, not far from Henry Lovett sat unoccupied, so we chose
that spot to eat our sandwiches and put the world to rights. As I sat in the
peacefully surroundings, I reminisced about a childhood long gone, whereby I’d
go for a day trip to some northern town or city with my mum and dad and somehow
always end up in a boneyard, sheltering from the rain under a tree in my pakamac,
eating home-made sandwiches and drinking tea! <o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Lunch finished we headed through the village back towards
the start of our walk, however, it was a lovely day, and three miles isn’t that
far, so I extended our walk a little through some fields. A large Elder was
groaning with ripe juicy berries, so I took my empty butty box and filled it
up. Boiled up with a bit of sugar, the berries would make a tasty topping for
my morning porridge or Greek yoghurt! We carried on and I noticed on a map that
there seemed to be a large pool marked, so we headed off towards it.
Unsurprisingly, this was also private land! We could hear the distant roar of
motors flying around the nearby racetrack at Oulton Park and decided it was
time to head back to the carpark (however far away it might be.) We found
another footpath which looked to take us back in the right direction, however,
the stiles on this one were not that well maintained and we both got savaged by
the sharp spikes of the badly cut blackthorn hedging. Well, every day’s an
adventure…right?!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Legs starting to give way under us, we trudged through a
field of long grass, which felt more like quicksand, until we reached a tarmac
road. The roar from the racetrack was getting louder and marked the end of our
day’s journey. As we passed the gates of Oulton Park, a track back to the
carpark became visible and so did a well-placed log near my car. We got tea and
biscuits out of the boot and munched contentedly, both wondering whether now we
had sat down on the log, would we ever be able to get up from it again!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Walk completed 19th September 2020 - Guidebook 3 miles - with detours 5.6 miles.</span></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-8497548129220140302020-10-13T14:34:00.003+01:002020-10-13T14:34:55.857+01:00Travels with my Aunt by Graham Greene<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><i><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 11pt;">How annoying. You listen to a
book. Write a few paragraphs about it, and then get distracted whilst
supposedly looking for a suitable visual aid. Several weeks later you
realise that all your thoughts are still sitting there unpublished!!!</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;">Graham Greene is possibly best
known for his seminal works like The Power and The Glory, Brighton Rock and The
Third Man. I can’t pretend to be an authority on his work, I read Brighton Rock
whilst still at school and a few other extracts from various novels for “comparative
purposes”, and whilst I’ve never read The Third Man, I admit to enjoying the
filmed version starring Joseph Cotton and Orson Welles.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;">Greene apparently wrote <b><i>Travels
With my Aunt</i></b> as a bit of fun and a departure from his normal style of
writing. His work often involved fragile, flawed characters that found
themselves in distant lands; so this novel is no different in that respect,
however, it’s impossible to try to tie Greene down to one stylistic genre. For
those who have read nothing by Greene before, this humoristic jaunt in Travels
With My Aunt is not like his other writings which are very dark. Traces of
darkness are evident in this book and they give an interesting insight into the
authors character.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><u><span style="color: #7030a0; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: x-large;">She is a rebel, he a conformist.</span></span></u></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;">Henry Pulling is a single,
retired bank manager; a straightforward, honest man, whose greatest pleasure is
growing dahlias in his garden. He is a man who lives a quiet and sheltered type
of life, who has seldom left the British shore he was born on. It is at his
mother’s funeral that he encounters his long-lost Aunt Augusta, a formidable
woman, equally glamourous and eccentric, who has rather a bombshell to deliver
Henry whom she has not seen for over fifty years.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;"> <o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;">As Henry begins to become
acquainted with Aunt Augusta, he realises she is the opposite of him, she has a
huge appetite for adventure and an even greater desire to tack down her old
flame Mr Visconti. Aunt Augusta is the woman who has done everything, amorality
and illegality do not phase her. She is a rebel, he a conformist. It is due to
Aunt Augusta that Henry makes a life changing discovery – travelling. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dHbGUDhqMOY/X4WpKeLmvfI/AAAAAAAAOpI/cA8aNeM0HRQnVMJnSUirJkL8GQ6MIHh7wCLcBGAsYHQ/s500/Travels%2Bwith%2Bmy%2Baunt.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="324" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dHbGUDhqMOY/X4WpKeLmvfI/AAAAAAAAOpI/cA8aNeM0HRQnVMJnSUirJkL8GQ6MIHh7wCLcBGAsYHQ/w414-h640/Travels%2Bwith%2Bmy%2Baunt.jpg" width="414" /></a></span><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;">Reading the book, I thought it
would make a fabulously entertaining play, but after doing a bit of Googling, I
realised I’d missed that boat. The play had been first performed at the
Citizen’s Theatre – Glasgow, in 1989 (a rather tenuous link to Tom Burke for
any fan who went to see him read William Tell at The Bunker Theatre) and again
in 2013 at the Menier Chocolate Factory – London.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><u><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">“I have been happy ... but I have been so bored for so long.”<o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;">Oh I know the feeling Henry! I
read Travels With my Aunt during my August holiday break. It seemed rather
fitting to read books about faraway places whilst sitting on the sofa. (I say
holiday in the sense that it was a few days off work sat at home…which is
pretty much no change from the rest of the year then.) I think the weather was
only suitable for one day trip out in the whole week, which resulted in the
picnic basket being cleared of mothballs and a determination that we were going
to eat al fresco if it killed me. To be fair, we only popped up the road to a local
mountain and the climb did finish me off, as I am now both more unfit and
overweight thanks to a very sedentary year due to Welsh Covid-19 restrictions.
As I sat on top of the mountain taking in the views, I wondered…will I ever get
to see the sea again, or take a flight abroad? I suppose the least I could do
was to enjoy Henry’s distant travels even if I couldn’t partake in my own.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="color: #7030a0;">Aunt’s in real life are never
like literary Aunts. Between the pages of a book, literary aunts are always
tough cookies. Whether they are battle-axes, cruel, domineering, inspiring or intoxicating,
you can be sure that they will never do anything by half. The first words Aunt
Augusta says shows that Greene’s aunt is a classic of the literary breed. </span><b><i><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">“I was once present at
a premature cremation.”</span></i></b><i><span style="color: #7030a0;"> </span></i><span style="color: #7030a0;">You already know that this is a woman with stories to
tell, a life fully lived, but it is still with surprise that she goes on to
tell Henry that his mother was probably a virgin, his father was most certainly
not, and that he’d best come round to hers for a strong drink. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;">So why are aunts more
interesting than mother’s for authors to write about? I imagine it’s because
they are like grandparents…they have fun with children and can break the rules.
Parents have to be the voice of authority and that can be seen so clearly in
this book. Under Henry’s mother’s tutelage, Henry was a dutiful son who lived
at home, had a dull job in a bank (trust me - working in a bank for over 20
years becomes very dull and soul destroying – you stop being a person full of
imagination and turn into some corporative idiot) and he missed out on a life
full of fun and adventure. Within weeks of meeting his Aunt Augusta, he has the
police turning up on his doorstep, he has smuggled money abroad, smoked weed
for the first time and learnt about Parisian brothels! (I thought I’d become
more adventurous after leaving the bank, turns out I’m a novice in comparison.)
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="color: #7030a0;">Greene, however, has made Aunt
Augusta a far more nuanced character than the typical literary aunt. She is a
caring individual who ran a church for dogs; she is highly entertaining but
with an acerbic tongue. When she orders drinks on a flight, the attendant tells
her they are about to land, her quick retort is </span><b><i><span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">"The more reason
for you to hurry, young man."</span></i></b><span style="color: #7030a0;">
Why can’t I be that self-assured in such situations? I might be a little bit
cheeky from time to time, but there is a line which I don’t have the guts to
cross…or more precisely I was brought up to be polite and to “think of others
before yourself.” In most situations if asked what I would prefer I say, “I don’t
mind.” I mean generally I don’t mind, I’m quite easy going, but I can’t imagine
for one moment Aunt Augusta saying that. I’ve surrounded myself with the Aunt
Augusta types before – I admired these people with a conflicting sense of awe
and disgust at their rudeness and then berated myself for thinking that having
the confidence to say what you want is rude. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aunt Augusta is human, she isn’t perfect, in
fact she’s a pretty despicable character if one looks at her closely enough; she’s
selfish, she’s cruel, she has a strange taste in friends…on closer inspection,
perhaps she isn’t a “typical” literary aunt at all.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><u><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">"People who like quotations love meaningless
generalisations."<o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;">Greene was bipolar and struggled
throughout his life with depression. He spent a large proportion of his life working
as a secret agent, being sent to strange places and meeting curious,
disreputable people. I’m sure Aunt Augusta would have approved immensely of the
people he kept company with, and I’m sure these encounters helped him create
the characters poor Henry Pulling got himself embroiled with!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;">Greene converted to Catholicism
in 1926 but he didn’t let religious views stand in his way of living the life
he wanted to lead, he was an adulterer and during the 1920’s and 30’s he kept a
list of names of the 47 prostitutes he had had relations with. His moral
behaviour might not have been everyone’s cup of tea, but he had a strong sense
of what was right and wrong, to the extent that he was outspoken against US
foreign policy and had a strong hatred of injustice. One of his last books was
J’Accuse: The Darker Side of Nice. It was a book about small-town corruption
which led him to be sued for libel by the mayor of Nice, unfortunately for
Greene, it wasn’t until after his death three years later, the mayor was
convicted for the fraud that Greene had accused him of.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;">With Greene’s backstory in mind,
it is not surprising that he created the character of Henry for a bit of fun. Henry
and Aunt Augusta get to travel the world extensively, to meet the types of
characters that Greene himself would have met with, so it is unsurprising that
after Henry’s first trip abroad he gets home and thinks “this is nice” but then
quite quickly yearns for some more excitement. He is obviously the type of
person who has a natural curiosity for adventure but has always been too scared
to try and just needs the moral support of someone with more experience than
him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><u><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">Life is fleeting – so embrace the good times<o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;">Obviously for Henry, his life
became far more interesting after meeting Aunt Augusta. I’m sure he’d have
been happy at home deadheading the dahlia’s; but life is fleeting, and you
should embrace whoever and whatever steps onto your timeline…even if the
excitement and joy of those interactions is short lived. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;">Henry, under the influence of Aunt Augusta began to
understand his true desires, but this came at a cost. He had forgone the
chance of love with Miss Keene and so she moved to South Africa; but she continued
to remain in touch with Henry, trying to keep alive that hope that they may one day reunite. As Henry’s life took on a whirlwind of unsavoury
exploits, which may seem exciting but probably shouldn’t be condoned, Miss
Keene’s letters started to take on a unsavoury tone. She may have seemed a dull
character to Henry, but she was harmless, and she obviously loved him, she didn’t
really deserve to be treated by him as she was. Her letters practically begged him
to rescue her from South Africa but the Henry of her past had gone – Aunt Augusta
had taught him, not only the joys of travel, but how to be callous and self-serving. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: trebuchet;">In "Travels with my Aunt," Greene has produced a novel that can be read as a bit of fun, but there are
these beats running through it that prick at the conscience. Henry undoubtedly begins
to lead a life that on one level has been enriched; but at what ultimate cost? Perhaps Miss Keene was saved after all!</span><o:p></o:p></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-51526980164435680822020-10-13T12:37:00.000+01:002020-10-13T12:37:31.676+01:00The Split - Laura Kay (Book Preview)<p><b><span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Ally’s relationship
is over, and she’s taking the cat</span>...</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sO7_tS4rIjQ/X4WQ3Qf5hgI/AAAAAAAAOo8/9zZIBtXgW8cZlGQurRfvlDMaExt1g82fQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/The%2BSplit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1312" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sO7_tS4rIjQ/X4WQ3Qf5hgI/AAAAAAAAOo8/9zZIBtXgW8cZlGQurRfvlDMaExt1g82fQCLcBGAsYHQ/w410-h640/The%2BSplit.jpg" width="410" /></a></div>When this book appeared in my in-tray, it was the comment
about the cat that grabbed my attention. The cover didn’t interest me, nor the
title, but the idea of someone storming off having found out that they have
been betrayed by a loved one, cat whisked underarm, really appealed to my sense
of justice.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Romantic novels (or RomComs) are not the typical genre of book I’ll head
towards in a bookshop; however within reading the first few pages, I realised
that Laura had written a rather special novel which kept me engaged throughout
the course of the story.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Split is a story of love but not your typical romance,
it is about the strongest love of all…friendship. It doesn’t really matter what
life throws at you if you have a strong support network of friends and this
novel highlighted this.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Ally lives with her girlfriend on a houseboat in London;
that is until one morning when she is brutally dumped by Emily. She announces
she is going to spend the night at her “friends” house and leaves Ally to
wallow in self-pity, despair and confusion. Now homeless, jobless, friendless
and unable to face Emily’s return the next morning, Ally bundles up her
belongings and decides to head home to Yorkshire to stay with her dad. She’s
not going home alone though; she bundles Emily’s cat Malcolm into his carrier
and heads off to the train station with suitcase and cat in tow.<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It must be strange to head back to your childhood home and
to try to come to terms with your life apparently going backwards, but for
Ally, comfort was there in the arms of her father and also her childhood friend
Jeremy. He had returned home to live with his mother due to his life unravelling
around him and he too was broken-hearted and wanting to live under a duvet for
the foreseeable future. You would think at this point that this might be a
depressing book but it’s not. It is a vibrant book full of warmth and humour as
two misfits try to make some order of their life, dragging themselves out of
the hollow of self-pity, torturing themselves by scouring Instagram pages of
their ex’s and opening their hearts over cake and bottles of wine in the
process.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Neither party really knows what they want to do with their
lives, but they know they need something to focus on. Jeremy thinks he sees his
ex in town one day, and comes up with the notion that him and Ally should run
the Sheffield half-marathon to show their ex’s that they can achieve something
worthwhile in their lives. The only problem is, neither Jeremy or Ally are runners,
and the race is in eight weeks! Now I am not one of God’s little athletes, so
reading about Ally slogging her guts out around Sheffield really resonated with
me. Her description of school PE lessons didn’t run amiss either…it was as if
someone was writing about my foiled attempts to get out of gym class. I could
relate to those descriptions of the body being on fire, not being able to
breath and desperately wanting to be sick in the gutter; so I cheered them on with
their ludicrous ambition whilst lying on the sofa, tea in one hand, biscuit in
the other.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Ally convinces herself that her athleticism and commitment
to something will bring Emily running back to her…and if that doesn’t, there’s
always Malcolm. Surely Emily will come up to Sheffield to rescue her beloved
cat, right?! In a series of emails, it becomes clear that Emily wants her cat,
but she’s not leaving London or new beau Sara (without an H.) Ally stole the
cat, Ally can damn well bring the cat back; plus there are loads of friends in
London missing Ally – surely she wants to see them again. Would that be the
close friends who managed a couple of WA messages and then quickly gave up
bothering to see how Ally was coping? The friends that were really Emily’s
friends who just accepted Ally because she was “always there.” It was
interesting reading the dynamics of what you perceive to be a friendship and
what a friendship really entails. The people who had been closest in Ally’s
life disappear, whereas someone she had been at school with, someone she had
not connected with for years, ended up being the support mechanism she really
needed. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As Ally commits further to the half-marathon, she decides to
buy some proper running clothes, and it’s here that she meets Jo, a post-grad
student who has formed a running group. She tells Ally and Jeremy to join them,
and so Ally forms a new plan of attack to win Emily back. If Malcolm has failed
to tug on Emily’s heartstrings, how about telling her all about the new woman
in her life…Jo?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This was such a poignant, but light-hearted debut novel from
Laura Kay and a real break from the books I normally read. Laura has created some
endearing characters and I heartily recommend that you share the laughs and
tears with Ally and her companions when the book is published in March 2020.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><i>The Split by Laura Kay is published by Quercus Books in
March 2021. Follow @lauraelizakay @QuercusBooks for further details and updates
to publication.</i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-67794901981910674062020-08-02T15:16:00.003+01:002020-08-08T17:32:32.065+01:00Walks in Mysterious Cheshire and Wirral by Tony Bowerman (Walk 5 - Willington)<p>With lockdown seemingly starting to ease and vistors being
allowed back into the country (Wales) my friend Kate, popped over for the weekend.
We did a quick afternoon walk (3 miles) around a village near me called Hope. (Live in Hope,
die in Caergwrle as the old saying goes…the two villages are adjacent to one another and this saying has been used since at least the 19th century!) Anyway – unbeknown to
me, Hope has a heritage park “Park in the Past” and whilst it was still closed
due to Covid restrictions, Kate and I took a walk along the public footpath that surrounds
the park which was still open. It’s a place I will be heading back
to in due course at it looks rather beautiful and the field at the end of the
walk was just teaming with swifts or swallows skirting over the grass catching
insects. An absolute surprise and treat to watch so I grabbed a quick video on my 'phone. Not the best quality, but I hadn't expected to come upon such a wonderful sight! </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw0RpRkn7W0D-HtL3RYqAlZ7ekDe858KyTKHn611pDi0itXxDXp2RjvdaZqGkTwEgM56-PGrFVQ4BFxyu51Rw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sunday was another dry day and I thought it would be a good
idea to do another walk from Tony Bowerman’s book. (If you haven’t read about
our first walk – click on the link)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><u><span style="font-size: 36pt; line-height: 107%;">Following
the Victorians to Little Switzerland<o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As travel abroad is a bit hit or miss at the moment, Kate
and I followed in the footsteps of the Victorians and took a trip to Little
Switzerland, deep in the Cheshire Countryside at Willington.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Willington has been known by a myriad of names over the
centuries. It was derived from the name of the first settlor recorded in the
area, Wynflaeda. In the Doomsday book the name had changed to Winfletone and in
Norman times it was called Wylaton. In the 1840’s the railway line from
Manchester to Chester opened and the Victorian city workers took the opportunity
to escape to the countryside.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zYiKmW3J-Kg/Xy7E7aojMcI/AAAAAAAAOfo/4Im-f540KOonGqZuiN-D4WO_V4oL3cyCACLcBGAsYHQ/s1866/20200807_180655.jpg" style="clear: left; display: block; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1773" data-original-width="1866" height="380" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zYiKmW3J-Kg/Xy7E7aojMcI/AAAAAAAAOfo/4Im-f540KOonGqZuiN-D4WO_V4oL3cyCACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h380/20200807_180655.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Willington sits on a sandstone ridge, the “backbone of
Cheshire.” 50% of the ridge is of great ecological and historical value as it
has remained relatively undisturbed. Photographs taken during our walk do not
look much different to the photographs taken 100 years ago. There are six
hillforts which are situated along the length including the one at Willington,
Kelsborrow Castle. This hillfort was built to exploit the natural defences the
area of land held and Neolithic axes have been found at the site, suggesting that
it was an important site long before the Iron Age fort was built. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Victorian
tourists walked the path up to the fort in an area known as Little Switzerland
due its far-reaching views of the Clwydian Mountain Range, Peckforton Hill and
the Mersey and Dee estuaries. Wherever you stand in the village, you are
afforded stunning views, but views like that require some effort, and whilst
the walk is only 3 miles long…approximately 2/3<sup>rd</sup>s of the walk
requires walking up a gentle ascent. (Thank goodness we walked the route we did
– the opposite way round would have been a killer!)<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p>We parked in the centre of the village in a little bay at
Willington Corner/Chapel Lane. If people can be bothered to park their vehicles
correctly, there should be ample space for about 20 cars, however, as there are
no white lines, the idiot/lazy fraternity just dumped their car and left. When
I arrived there was only one space left which was a tight squeeze, but I managed
to reverse in leaving sufficient space at the front of both mine and idiot
drivers vehicle, so all parties could get in and out without damaging either
car. Fortunately, as we were about to walk up the road, someone else appeared who
was heading home, so I waited a few minutes and moved into their spot…this meant
I could enjoy my walk without being anxious about the apparent inability to
drive of the person that had been next to me!<div><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q40bQgQAvNU/Xy7FOI_4nvI/AAAAAAAAOfw/n85ezU0pC9A8ucbrK2g0-Uk5rRT-d3XzgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200726_130040.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" height="310" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q40bQgQAvNU/Xy7FOI_4nvI/AAAAAAAAOfw/n85ezU0pC9A8ucbrK2g0-Uk5rRT-d3XzgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h310/20200726_130040.jpg" width="640" /></a><div><p class="MsoNormal">A short walk up hill took us towards the sheltered,
south-west facing fields of the market gardens where in the 20<sup>th</sup>
century crops of hard and soft fruits could be seen growing. Fruit has
certainly been seen growing on the slopes of Willington Hall since the 1940s,
and apples, strawberries and blackcurrants thrived in the fertile soils, whilst
damsons grew in the hedgerows. The fruit was sold at the local markets in
Chester, Frodsham, Knutsford, Liverpool and Manchester. Despite the popularity and
quality of the fruit, the nearby Eddisbury Fruit Farm has since closed its
doors, and the area was very quiet when we walked past where Winsors Fruit Farm
and shop was supposed to be.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i3A37uyzOdk/Xy7FaPehEKI/AAAAAAAAOf0/YEE_Ua8HecoO6qIbjcQoNudApDuJoRHTwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/20200726_130232.jpg" style="clear: right; display: block; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1269" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i3A37uyzOdk/Xy7FaPehEKI/AAAAAAAAOf0/YEE_Ua8HecoO6qIbjcQoNudApDuJoRHTwCLcBGAsYHQ/w198-h320/20200726_130232.jpg" width="198" /></a></div>In keeping with the area, we turned into Gooseberry Lane,
not named after the fruit farms which didn’t appear until after WWII, and
continued heading upwards towards the are known as Little Switzerland. As we
stopped to catch our breath and move out of the way of a red car, we could see
the spectacular views that had caused Victorians to gasp in awe. As we headed
further up the road, we were greeted by the driver of the red car, a sweet old
lady who lived in one of the cottages on the steep bank. We stood and chatted
to her for a while as she told us about the area and where the best views were.
The cottages were built from the 1860s onwards; many of which have been
enlarged from the original rural workers cottages they once were. The cottagers
were wily souls and would clear out a bedroom to offer it out as a B&B for
the visitors that had made their way from the station in a horse-drawn cart. <o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SC5WESqXgJU/Xy7GM_Ji9HI/AAAAAAAAOgE/reVmds7v8UE9FYW317jcHSYRb-L5CfNYQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200726_131842.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" height="311" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SC5WESqXgJU/Xy7GM_Ji9HI/AAAAAAAAOgE/reVmds7v8UE9FYW317jcHSYRb-L5CfNYQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h311/20200726_131842.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>As Gooseberry Lane came to an abrupt end, we followed a narrow,
raised path between someone’s house and garden. The path seems to hang in the
air, as to the left the land falls away, and an area called Boothsdale comes
into view. As we drew towards the top of the path, we remembered the words of
the lady we had been talking to and stopped to take in the views. She was
right, if you wait until you reach the top, the trees obscure the far reaching
views…this spot was perfect, and gave us a little breather before negotiating
the wooded steps carved into the woodland, that would take us towards
Kelsborrow Castle.<o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><u><span style="font-size: 36pt; line-height: 107%;">Up
Dick’s Mount<o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Open pasture greets you as you leave the shade of the trees.
This unassuming area of green has had a chequered history. This is where the promontory
fort of Kelsborrow Castle would have stood. Centuries of ploughing have left it
difficult to see where the ramparts would have been on the enclosure. Excavations
in 1973 revealed that the rampart had been revetted with timber, and the
earthen bank was reinforced with timber also. The original width of the rampart
was 4 metres and the ditch had been dug 8.5 metres in front of the rampart.
Today, the bank stands about half a metre high and spread across an area 30
metres wide. Despite this, you can still get a sense of the scale of the fort.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l5GmI8tmsKM/Xy7GqCL53QI/AAAAAAAAOgQ/xL36kPaBmEMclkVkmFawhonYIqazn18fQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200726_131932.jpg" style="display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l5GmI8tmsKM/Xy7GqCL53QI/AAAAAAAAOgQ/xL36kPaBmEMclkVkmFawhonYIqazn18fQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/20200726_131932.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J7_LTwabKZ4/Xy7GqZJJX6I/AAAAAAAAOgU/TAqF0TBxy1oDoYtkcTMUnwJ4ZpVFQIBfwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200726_132428.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J7_LTwabKZ4/Xy7GqZJJX6I/AAAAAAAAOgU/TAqF0TBxy1oDoYtkcTMUnwJ4ZpVFQIBfwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/20200726_132428.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">Electric fences now keep grazing cattle off the public
footpath, but years ago this area of Castle Hill was a stud farm for shire
horses. John Kenworthy first registered a stallion on the site back in 1898 and
all the horses were prefixed with the name Delamere. The stallions were taken
to Delamere railway station and transported to Chester, Helsby and The Wirral
for their services. A standing stone was removed from the field in the 19<sup>th</sup>
Century, but local lore suggests that its origin was less prehistoric and more
likely the marker for a prized stallions grave. The last recorded stud fee was
fifty shillings back in 1935. This was the end of the line for the Kenworthy
Shires, but not all is lost in the Shire horse world – three miles down the
road at Cotebrook lies the Cotebrook Shire Horse Centre where this beautiful
breed is continuing to be bred successfully. <a href="https://cotebrookshirehorses.co.uk/" target="_blank">https://cotebrookshirehorses.co.uk/</a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">During World War II, the RAF placed a communications aerial
to the right of Dick’s Mount, as this elevated position was perfect for
receiving signals. Its exposed position meant that locals had to be especially vigilant
during black outs. A light from this area could be seen as far away as the
Welsh border and be prone to attack. Standing there, it did make me think about
today’s society. How would people cope with such orders? Seeing as how folk are
loath to even wear a mask to protect each other, I suspect black out’s would have
been an infringement of their liberty and to hell with everyone.<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HBbgaCMp4lk/Xy7KhLOx9wI/AAAAAAAAOgk/ZeYQEwhwlTMFEeLaY12CLj98FRPKQFJ8gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200726_132514.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HBbgaCMp4lk/Xy7KhLOx9wI/AAAAAAAAOgk/ZeYQEwhwlTMFEeLaY12CLj98FRPKQFJ8gCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/20200726_132514.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8X4bdKfdswI/Xy7KhFJeV6I/AAAAAAAAOgo/XiKMTEmvXqgDxgxYbL39iI9hSs9TqPFdwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2536/20200726_144010%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1240" data-original-width="2536" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8X4bdKfdswI/Xy7KhFJeV6I/AAAAAAAAOgo/XiKMTEmvXqgDxgxYbL39iI9hSs9TqPFdwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/20200726_144010%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">Pushing my cynicism to one side, we continued past the cows
and into a small wooded area to come out on a green with a lake. People were
sat having a picnic on the grass, casually watching the world go by as Kate and
I starred at the map. It advised us we would emerge on Quarry Bank Lane and to
turn right and follow the lane uphill. There was no Quarry Bank Lane, certainly
no signs for it, and did right mean the road at the top that disappeared to the
right…or did it mean turn right past the lake. There was no lake mentioned in
the guidebook. There was no Quarry Bank Lane on Google either. We decided we
would do option 1 – the road that disappeared to the right. As we walked down
it, none of the house names mentioned in our guidebook appeared, although some beautiful
mansions that no doubt cost at east a million pounds loomed into view. After
about a quarter of mile, we decided that we couldn’t be heading uphill…neither
of us were out of breath. We turned around and scurried back, past the people
at the lake, and the road started to climb. (Also the names of the houses in
the book appeared which was a blessed relief…we didn’t want to head back to the
lake and start asking people where the hell we were.)</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><u><span style="font-size: 36pt; line-height: 107%;">The
Urchin’s Kitchen<o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At the crest of a hill (I wish I’d read the route before we
started) we saw a carpark (<span face="" style="background-color: white; color: #5f6368; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold;">🙄</span>) which took us into Primrosehill Wood. The route
took us down a bridleway which was straddled with wild raspberry canes on
either side. They looked a little pat their best and so we continued through
the woods and onto the route known as the Sandstone Trail. Just off the path,
we took a small detour into a sandstone gorge filled with rhododendrons and
pine trees. Hidden within the tree this was the atmospheric Urchin’s Kitchen, a
glacial drainage channel formed at the close of the last Ice Age. As the climate
warmed, meltwater under immense pressure scoured out the 20-30 foot deep gorge,
enlarging the natural weakness in the Triassic sandstone.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0xVYR7knbvc/Xy7L93FuxNI/AAAAAAAAOg4/cG4tBg4JwKEC3XpzoCKqcIL2AUr4NeDSQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200726_141128%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0xVYR7knbvc/Xy7L93FuxNI/AAAAAAAAOg4/cG4tBg4JwKEC3XpzoCKqcIL2AUr4NeDSQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/20200726_141128%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">Obviously, we had to take a closer inspection, looking down
into the gorge wasn’t an option…there’s no point going on a walk unless you can
do a bit of exploring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I probably should
have been banned from reading The Famous Five as a child, anyway, despite both
of us doing this walk in trainers rather than hiking boots…and it has been a
bit wet lately, we strode through the undergrowth and into the gorge. This was
where a pair of welly boots would have been most welcome, as the pair of us
tried to daintily(?!) cross bits of fallen logs in a bid to not be knee deep in
mud. At some point Kate saw sense and gave up whilst I tried to go further in.
The mud however was getting deeper and stickier…and there was a group of people
at the far end who I’m sure would have laughed like a drain had I fallen into
what was turning into swamp. I trudged back to Kate and we negotiated the logs
back to the Sandstone Trail.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NlieRNa8pos/Xy7MN31M14I/AAAAAAAAOhE/8TFjWPpETt06gE85gpfff0xe1sqscLZBQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200726_141020.jpg" style="display: inline; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NlieRNa8pos/Xy7MN31M14I/AAAAAAAAOhE/8TFjWPpETt06gE85gpfff0xe1sqscLZBQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/20200726_141020.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CMmtQnXLB7k/Xy7MN2VnITI/AAAAAAAAOhA/ji5oJgoUJgw9eBrNUhZsE8bMR0dTS-OTwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200726_141246.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CMmtQnXLB7k/Xy7MN2VnITI/AAAAAAAAOhA/ji5oJgoUJgw9eBrNUhZsE8bMR0dTS-OTwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/20200726_141246.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">Now you maybe asking why the area is called the Urchin’s
Kitchen. I have no idea, although it is suggested that as the Middle English
name for a hedgehog was an urchin, as when in curled up with its spines
showing, it looked like a sea urchin. This may have been an area where
hedgehogs used to hibernate because it was sheltered and full of autumn leaves.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><u><span style="font-size: 36pt; line-height: 107%;">Time for Tea<o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We headed through the woods and onto open farmland, here the
guidebook advised <b><i>“the path emerges on Tirley Lane beside Summertrees
Tearoom and Garden – an attractive family run café that welcomes walkers.” </i></b>Perfect
I thought, as both of us had nearly run out of water and a loo break is always
welcome. I did wonder whether Covid might have put paid to the place being
open, but you can always hope. We walked past a very much closed “tearoom.”
There were no signs confirming that this was ever the place and that, I
realised, was one problem of using a guide book that hasn’t been revised and
updated since 2006. As it turned out, it wasn;t Covid that had closed the
tearoom, the place, whilst appearing rather popular in online reviews, had
closed circa 2013/14. This was the only issue completing the walk, the village
of Willington has no amenities except for the Boot Inn and Willington Hall
hotel neither of which cross this walking route. Even the post office,
churches, school and community rooms have long gone and been converted into
houses, so it was a timely reminder that if we tried any of the longer walks in
the book, to check them out carefully before we started and to ensure we had
snacks and drinks with us!<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nUjzAvCevU8/Xy7OGj-PJiI/AAAAAAAAOhU/4DS7eZ3yKlIeVDCut0W5CSol8FmI14ScACLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200726_143001.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" height="311" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nUjzAvCevU8/Xy7OGj-PJiI/AAAAAAAAOhU/4DS7eZ3yKlIeVDCut0W5CSol8FmI14ScACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h311/20200726_143001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">At this point we were on Roughlow Lane (the name suggestive
of a Bronze Age burial mound or similar nearby – again showing the prehistoric
routes of the village) and the walking was sharply downhill back to where we
started. As we headed further downhill on the pavementless winding road (pavements
are pretty much non-existent) we remarked how grateful we were not to have had
to climb this route. We took a moment to remember the Italian prisoners of war
who in 1946, were recruited to rebuild a wall and repair the damage of a steam
roller belonging to the County Council which had toppled over the side of
Roughlow, taking a section of the road with it. I couldn’t help but chuckle too…I
work as a contractor with a County Council and the standard of driving hasn’t really
improved much in all those years!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A5Pyu4gr_XQ/Xy7OzGOt5NI/AAAAAAAAOhg/vFM1C1Y22mwWeUvgTn-RLd7sAdyGRWuugCLcBGAsYHQ/s2543/20200726_144829%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img alt="Heading back down to the car park!" border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="2543" height="311" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A5Pyu4gr_XQ/Xy7OzGOt5NI/AAAAAAAAOhg/vFM1C1Y22mwWeUvgTn-RLd7sAdyGRWuugCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h311/20200726_144829%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p></div></div></div>Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3997319867688192876.post-30059846346023404312020-07-16T14:55:00.001+01:002020-08-08T17:17:52.958+01:00Walks in Mysterious Cheshire and Wirral by Tony Bowerman (Walk 11 - Whitegate)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pCxMwybbKU8/XxBjmIDACcI/AAAAAAAAOUk/wjOg3bR0duApQDWL3PeNUi3_A4WLNfpQwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20200716_152406-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1064" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pCxMwybbKU8/XxBjmIDACcI/AAAAAAAAOUk/wjOg3bR0duApQDWL3PeNUi3_A4WLNfpQwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/20200716_152406-01.jpeg" width="424" /></a></div>
<span style="text-align: justify;">Having spent the last three hundred thousand, thirty four, nine hundred and seventy four thousand days on home turf since lockdown started, it was with unbridled joy that I jumped into my car on Saturday, (1</span><sup style="text-align: justify;">st</sup><span style="text-align: justify;"> weekend where Welsh residents were allowed more than 5 miles from home) drove 23 miles into England, met my friend Kate and we had a ramble in the sunshine.</span><br />
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It was wonderful to meet up in real life rather than on a Zoom meeting but our first walk of the year came with a few caveats. Firstly, it had to be a gentle breaking in walk, not one of my usual “oh it’s not very far,” cue 15 miles later getting very threatening looks off what is likely to be a soon ex-friend if I don’t find the car again very soon after proclaiming “don’t worry, I sort of know where we are!” Secondly, the walk would not consist of clambering up any large hills…something I wasn’t going to argue with….I’ve been sat on a sofa eating cake for four months. I can easily roll down a hill, getting up one without the aid of oxygen and a winch would be trickier. Thirdly, we’ve had a lot of rain, so the book of canal walks would probably be a no-go…also there’s not much room on a towpath to steer clear of folk whilst we’re still in the middle of a pandemic.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As I started to despair that none of the walks I had in my books were suitable, I stumbled across this book from 2006 – “Walks in Mysterious Cheshire and Wirral by Tony Bowerman.” The book contains fourteen easy to follow circular walks, mainly in Cheshire, covering a variety of landscapes.</div>
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The landscape of Cheshire is a land steeped in mystery and has been used as a backdrop for many works of literature. Alderley Edge is perhaps best known as the landscape for Alan Garner’s “The Wierdstone of Brisingamen,” a children’s fantasy novel influenced by the folklore of the area. In this walking book, Tony Bowerman has put together walks of interest, not just visually, but historically too, and each walk comes with it’s own unique stories from the past. The walker can follow lost Roman and medieval roads, ancient copper mines, a stone elephant, a gypsy king’s grave, a ghostly duck, and much more.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i><u><span style="font-size: 28.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Walk 11 – Whitegate: Where Vale Royal Abbey stood.<o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></div>
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I picked walk 11 as it was equidistant for us both to reach. (It was also flat, only 3 miles long, and covered a variety of landscapes…woodland, fields and a river.) I sent across all the details to Kate and we agreed on our rendezvous. We were onto a good start when I arrived and realised that there was very limited parking (about 5 spaces) so we had a quick look at the neighbourhood, found a road we could safely park on and finally we set off on our way to St Mary’s Church where the walk commenced.<br />
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We set off up Vale Royal Drive, flanked by tall beech and lime trees. We were so engrossed in nattering away that we nearly missed the first waypoint on our walk, but out of the corner of my eye I noticed a path on my right and realised we should be taking it. It opened out onto a field of barley (cue a rendition of Sting’s classic, Fields of Gold) and then us both desperately trying to remember what that Kevin Costner film was and why in America the fields of barley are higher than ours (probably because Kevin Costner was in a field of corn not barley! <span style="font-family: "segoe ui emoji" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji";">🙄</span>)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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We headed off towards the woods, which according to the guidebook <i>“The floor of this mixed deciduous wood is open and sunny, and sweet with the scent of bluebells in early summer.”</i> How nice. I’d been in lockdown, I missed them all. There was however the pungent smell of wild garlic still wafting on the breeze; the leaves however had died back, garlic season also missed due to lockdown, which is a shame as it does make a nice pesto sauce. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I did see some interesting fungi on a tree, however, chances are it was probably poisonous so I left it where it was and continued on my way towards a simple footbridge made of railway sleepers. It was a plank of wood over a low ditch which landed us on the periphery of someone’s paddock. As we skirted the muddy path of the Abbot’s Walk, I noticed a large ladder type style ahead of me that took us into said paddock…and another one at the other side to escape from it. These things are bad enough at the best of times, but it appeared the whole household was out on the patio enjoying tea and watching the fools out for their morning constitutional. After landing in an undignified manner into a holly hedge from the second ladder style, I found myself in a potato field…before I could check where my friend was, I was suddenly overtaken by a runner. Where the hell did he spring from…and that’s not two bloody meters you eejit!<o:p></o:p></div>
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By now we were about to hit point 4 of the walk. Back into the woods once more. Fortunately the style no longer had a fence surrounding it so we could just walk past it downwards toward the river. Now this is the bit of the book I hadn’t read properly…”the wetter ground that slopes down to a loop of the old, uncanalised river, is rank with nettles and clad in hazel, elder and rowan.” Oh bollards! I knew we should have put our wellie boots on. But we didn’t…we wore our trainers…on the first dry day in weeks. Mud? Loads of it…at every turn! As we delicately squelched as best we could without either covering ourselves, or worse falling face (or arse) first, in mud, we kept our eyes open for the promised kingfishers and watercress. I suspect the kingfishers had eaten all the watercress and then died laughing at the pair of us, for neither could be found.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Suddenly a tarmac path greeted our feet, and a sign for an angling club. We were back on terra firma and at the Vale Royal Locks on the River Weaver. We pootled across the swing bridge and sat down and watched as a barge that looked as though it should be laden with coal was guided through the lock gates by two young men wearing masks. As they huffed and puffed turning their windlasses, the masks were quickly abandoned, and we carried on walking down the towpath towards the railway viaduct that looked remarkably similar to the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct near Llangollen. Fortunately, as there is a mainline railway line at the top and not a canal, there were no steps for us to climb up – this was a good thing as climbing up the Pontcysyllte had nearly killed us off a few years ago. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We wandered back to the lock gates just as the chaps had finished their work and watched the barge chug through. As it was a beautiful day we sat awhile longer, got accosted by several dogs, including one I’m sure had been bathing in the river, and I gave Kate a history lesson on the surrounding area. I’d like you all to think I’m an eminent historian, but the truth is, this beautiful little book has anecdotes dotted throughout the walk, and historical information so that you can get a real sense of the past as you walk around.<br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "vivaldi"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Nixon, the Cheshire prophet, is said to have been born in
Whitegate in 1467. A simple ploughboy, he is credited with some extraordinary
prophesies which were made when he fell into one of his regular trances. Among
them, he foretold that Vale Royal Abbey would become a ravens’ nest; and it is
true that in 1538 the estate was bought by the Holcrofts – whose crest was a
raven!</span></i></b></h2>
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I had now, however, reached the point where I really wish I’d brought my sandwiches with me rather than leaving them in the car for later. I also decided I’d probably need a wee soon and there were no facilities ANYWHERE, so we got up, just in time for the men to close the swing bridge as there was a flotilla coming down the river. Well ok, two narrowboats and two cruisers all needed to squash into the lock to go down river. I gazed in awe at their skills at entering the lock without hitting each other and reminisced about when I had taken the helm of a narrowboat 15 years ago and nearly got it lodged in sideways. After that it was deemed the other half would drive the boat and I would stick to opening the lock gates. Eventually we were allowed back across the river to finish our little jaunt out, crossing open fields and more woodland (which again is “heavy with the scent of bluebells in early summer”) before landing on a golf course. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JvEZdvMAA_M/XxBki7tgRoI/AAAAAAAAOU4/ui1Y3xnI7C0rXUOdH_QUIcKmtnkmib6qgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20200711_121418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="778" data-original-width="1600" height="193" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JvEZdvMAA_M/XxBki7tgRoI/AAAAAAAAOU4/ui1Y3xnI7C0rXUOdH_QUIcKmtnkmib6qgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/20200711_121418.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vale Royal House Apartments</td></tr>
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“Beyond the 18<sup>th</sup> tee, the public right of way continues…” Oh good…I don’t think I’ve ever traipsed across a golf course whilst lots of people are hitting small hard balls in my general direction before. Pausing briefly to look at Vale Royal House, we ended up on a rather nice-looking housing estate. As we walked up the cul-de-sac that would take us back to the woods and onwards to where we started our walk on Vale Royal Drive, I couldn’t help but think that the houses probably cost an arm and a leg (judging by the cars in the drives) yet not one had a patch of green surrounding it. I might only have a small house and garden, but at least mine is teaming with wildlife rather than concrete.<o:p></o:p><br />
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At the cars, we ate our sandwiches and concluded that this was possibly the first time we’ve ever gone on a walk and not got lost. That’s a big tick to Tony Bowerman. I therefore tentatively suggested that maybe we should do the remaining 13 walks which are left in the book. I wouldn’t hold your breath, but if we do…you’ll be the first to know!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Whitegate is a quaint village in the English county of Cheshire named after the white gates which led up the Abbey. The village green is surrounded by a church, a school and a couple of thatched cottages. There is also the Grade II listed building, Whitegate House, built in the 17<sup>th</sup> century which was once an Inn called The Rifleman; it lost it’s licence in 1870 due to Lady Delamere objecting about the “unseemly behaviour of customers on the green” and thereafter became a residential property. The four bedroomed property could be yours as it is currently for sale for £515,000.00!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://www.rightmove.co.uk/property-for-sale/property-52271311.html" target="_blank">https://www.rightmove.co.uk/property-for-sale/property-52271311.html</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">During the winter of 1263, the future King Edward I was caught in a storm in the Bay of Biscay, returning from a crusade in the Holy Land. He prayed to the Blessed Virgin that if he survived, he would build a convent for 100 Cistercian monks. It seems that his prayers were answered as he fought his way to shore, only to watch his ship vanish into the roaring tempest. He was one of two survivors, but his vow to found the largest Cistercian house in England had to be delayed as civil war was about to break out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The site chosen for the Abbey was at Darnhall in nearby Delamere Forest and on the eve of Edward’s departure on a crusade, a foundation charter was issued for the monastery of St Mary, Darnhall. The chosen site proved unsuitable for Edward’s new abbey, for a start it could only house a community of 30, therefore Edward allowed the monks to find a more suitable site about 4 miles away which he would rename Vale Royal in order that no other monastery could be more royal than his. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The foundation stone of the new abbey was laid by Edward I in 1277 in a ceremony full of pomp and splendour. Endowments of land in the surrounding area were made to support the Abbey, but Edward’s propensity for going to war put a drain on his finances for the abbey and by 1336 the church still did not possess a roof. Edward of Woodstock tried to breathe new life into the project, but by October 1360 a storm blew down the nave and following his death in 1376 royal patronage ended. Had Edward I succeeded in his desire to build the abbey it would have been on a grander scale that its more famous cousin, Fountains Abbey in Yorkshire. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">During the dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII in 1539, the monks were removed from the Abbey and the land and building was sold to Sir John Holcroft. Most of the Abbey was demolished, although some of the monk’s quarters remain, most predominately in the cellars. Excavations in 1911 and again in 1958 established the floor plan of the original 1278 building as a cruciform design with a central tower, two smaller towers at the west end and cloisters on the south side of the nave. The high alter stood at the east end of the building and is marked by the Nun’s Grave from which a ghost is still alleged to walk from. Vale Royal Golf Club now sits on the site of the former Abbey and you can buy a 2-bedroom apartment there for circa £315,000.00. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://www.rightmove.co.uk/property-for-sale/property-91647323.html" target="_blank">https://www.rightmove.co.uk/property-for-sale/property-91647323.html</a></span><br />
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<br />Sioux Rogershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03971612077507666639noreply@blogger.com0Whitegate, Northwich CW8 2AY, UK53.219454 -2.560566127.6974195 -43.8691601 78.7414885 38.7480279