Being back in London, I immediately felt a sense of being reunited with an old friend. The weather looked clear as we came in for our landing, only a few high clouds. It was already dark, but the air was definitely warmer. It would prove to be a spectacular couple of days ahead, with sunny skies and temps in the 50s.
From Gatwick, I took a train into town and then had to switch to the tube (read "subway," for you Americans.) Unfortunately, the directions I had didn't work because of track work and other train problems. I ended up having to change several times before finding Mile End, my stop in East London, which is closest to Queen Mary College. When I arrived, Lois Weaver was waiting for me. I checked into my "bedsit" which is like a big hotel room with a full kitchen and bath, big desk, sofa and chairs and a bed. Very clean and comfortable. Lois lives in one just like it, one floor above at France House. She was ready with a glass of wine and a basket of goodies for me to have for my breakfasts. So thoughtful and sweet. I slept well that night.
Monday was a beautiful day, but I was inside for most of it. I had a full day of workshops with Lois' students. In the morning I worked with ten MA's and Post-Grads; in the afternoon I had two classes of about 20 students in each, back-to-back. I have to admit, the older students in the morning were more interesting to me. That were seriously thinking about their careers in the theatre as they were about to embark on them in just a few months. It is a diverse group, from several countries (including one from the U.S.), who were a bit more mature (naturally) than the younger groups in the afternoon. We had a very interesting time before sharing a lunch of sushi and sandwiches which Lois had arranged for us. We ate outside in the fabulous sun! Sorry to be so thrilled about the weather, but after so many days of clouds and rain, this was a pleasant break -- and especially great because it's London, which can be so grey.
I was exhausted after the day, but felt it went very well. The students seemed to enjoy it, even if I challenged them to think about things they were not used to thinking about. It can be a struggle to answer life's bigger questions and those are the ones that I continually ask, in an effort to help them plan for the future with a clear vision.
I took a quick nap before heading to the National Theatre for a performance of Burnt By the Sun at the Lyttleton. My friend Deena Gornick had arranged the tickets for us and her girlfriend Sarah and my friend Marcia Plum. I got off the Tube at Embankment and walked across the Thames to the South Bank. Here's a photo I took while crossing -- a perfect night, the buildings shine proudly as they are reflected in the River. I had love going to the National when I lived in London years ago. The feeling was no different tonight.
Everyone arrived. It lifted my heart to see old friends again and to share this experience with them. The play, starring Ciaran Hinds, was like a Chekhov play -- a Russian family dealing with the new realities of the Soviet Union after the revolution, but still trying to cling to the life they had under the Czar. The key conflict involves the husband (Hinds) who was a general in the Revolutionary Army, who married the daughter of the former nobility. Her previous lover had gone away years earlier under dubious circumstances. He returns and the three of them play a power game. It is unclear who the real hero is in the story until lots of secrets get revealed in the last act. Howard Davies directed the play beautifully, with a grand revolving set of the family's summer house with its various rooms and a huge cast of characters (30 or more) who moved through it comfortably.
At the beginning I could swear I was watching a take on The Seagull or The Cherry Orchard. (There were even trees surrounding the house on all sides reminiscent of the cherry trees.) But as the play progressed, it was clear that this was not written as elegantly as a Chekhov play. It was beautifully rendered, with excellent acting and directing, but the story got a bit muddled in the second act and the resolution was not particularly satisfying. Still, a worthwhile night in the theatre.
Afterward, we walked across the bridge and went to Joe Allen for a post-play repast. Great times, reminiscing and discussing our current endeavors. I called Frank during the meal so he could feel part of the celebration, since he knows all of the friends.
The next day, I had to myself, to reconnect with London and visit more friends. I walked and walked and walked. Another extraordinary day. First, I went to Wilton's Music Hall, where my friend Filippo works as Technical Director. This is one of the oldest theatres in London, a former music hall/opera house. Now it run by two sisters who program a variety of events including concerts, operas, plays and special events. It's a gorgeous space, with original details from the 1850s. The lobby and bar area date back even further -- to the 1700s. They were part of a series of row houses that now serve as a welcoming area for the theatre. Filippo has transformed the technical side of things, organizing and rebuilding the infrastructure, so they will have more flexibilty with the lights, sound, projections, etc. He seems very happy with the job and to be back in London. We had lunch at the Dispensary, which had been a dispensary at one time, but now is a very nice pub/restaurant. I was desperate for a burger and they had one on the menu!
I tubed to the West End and got myself a ticket to Madame de Sade, a new play starring Dame Judi Dench about the women in the life of the infamous Marquis. Then I wandered around, lighting at the National Portrait Gallery and then looking for my old haunts. I found the dorm I had lived in for my year abroad as a junior in college, Ramsey Hall. Here's a photo of me in front of it. The photo was taken by this kid who was doing HIS year abroad in London, from Syracuse University. I looked at him and I saw myself (if only I had been that cute!) That year was so impactful that I still look back on it as one the major passages of my life.
Exhausted in late afternoon, I returned to Lois' bedsit where I was to stay that evening. Peggy Shaw was there! We caught up and Lois prepared a lovely meal for us. A short nap and I was back to the West End for Dame Judi. I had standing room (only 10 pounds), but it was no problem at all. The play is fascinating, very poetic. It's a translation from Yukio Mishima. The themes of devotion, love, revenge, parental protection, plotting and perversion were woven through the intermissionless 2 hours. Costumes befitting the period -- those dresses with huge bustles on both sides and in the rear, high hair and wigs -- were extraordinary. But it was truly the acting that won the day. To a one, these actresses relished their words and while you could understand every syllable, it was never at the expense of believability of character or emotion.
I wandered into Soho after the show, had a cheap pizza and took the tube "home." It was St. Patrick's Day, so the Irish frivolity reigned. I didn't feel much like celebrating alone. I was still full from the play, thinking about the ideas, and the pizza, thinking I ate too much.
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