I know there are worse hells than riding the Central line to work in the summer. But when you are on the train that air conditioning forgot during a heat spell, it's hard to remember to count your blessings.
It's HOT in London right now. I know this is something to be celebrated, for it is not often that this weather comes our way. Judging by the angry red sunburns I spot around the office, it seems that quite a lot people paid homage to the cloudless, bright blue skies over the weekend
But with the sun comes heat. And with the heat comes miserable Tube rides.
The Tube is the mirror image of the New York Subway (or at least, the sections of the Subway that I have ridden.) Everything is reversed. The Tube has expansive platforms but small, almost doll-house sized trains; the Subway has cramped platforms but people-sized trains. The Tube has terrific directional signs but every available surface is plastered with ads; the Subway has maps that require native assistance to read, but its station walls have a minimum of consumer messages. Most important (at least in summer), the Tube has hot, airless trains; the Subway has air-conditioning. NYC wins hands down.
I can't decide which is worse about the Tube in summer: the stagnant, stale air; the ovenlike heat; or the smell of dozens of people with highly individual standards of what passes for acceptable personal hygiene in public. At rush hour, the bodies press against each other, and the heat rises and turns sticky. Of course, I could be stuck in my former hell, a Sig-Alert on the 101/405 interchange at rush hour - even normal traffic patterns on the 101 and 405 are most people's idea of a traffic nightmare - but at least my car had A/C.
However, I take comfort that my commute to work isn't putting ozone depleting fluorocarbon in the air - and that in London, heat is the exception rather than the rule.
2005-06-21
2005-06-14
Theatre, darling, theatre
Whenever we go back to the States, the first thing my husband and I are asked is: "So, what shows have you seen lately?"
I'm happy to report that we have, indeed, been trying to take full advantage of living in one of the world's premiere theatre towns.
In fact, we've decided to celebrate holidays, British and American, by seeing a show. It started at Thanksgiving. It was the first one away from family for my husband, and I wanted to make it special. So I made us lunch reservations at the Ritz (and very ritzy is was, too, although their pumpkin pie left something to be desired. A pie crust topped by a millimeter of Libby's pumpkin underneath an avalanche of nutmug-infused whipped cream is just not pumpkin pie - sorry but there it is) but the best was saved for later: tickets to see Nathan Lane and Lee Evans in the The Producers. Nathan Lane was in the play but for a short time (filling in for Richard Dreyfuss who had a sore shoulder, or so they said) and I had snagged orchestra tickets the day the substitution was announced.
A London crowd doesn't grant standing ovations to just anyone. They are a very discerning bunch. The actors and the production have to really earn their kudos from an audience that feels that overt displays of emotional response are just not done (that's something Americans do, after all.) But when Nathan Lane and Lee Evans took their final bows, the crowd was on its feet, hands coming together in a blur of sound and motion, cries of huzzah! and bravo! almost drowning out the appreciative but piercing whistles.
The Producers was the best received theatrical production we've seen so far, but we've been lucky enough to see the following:
Oleanna by David Mamet, with Julia Stiles and Aaron Eckhart
A decent production; Julia Stiles was very convincing but Aaron Eckhart less so.
Democracy by Michael Frayn
Very thought provoking and compelling; one of the best experiences I've had at the theatre. Willy Brandt and Germany in the 70s doesn't sound like the most intriguing subjects for a play, and yet the audience is mesmerized. I'm sorry that the NYC production closed after five months; it's a play that I hope lots of Americans get to see.
His Dark Materials part 1 and 2; based on the Philip Pullman novels
A truly jaw dropping set design made this play work for me; the set was two stories high, rotated up and down on a drum, and no two scenes were in the exact same setting. Incredibly inventive costume design and wonderful use of puppets to represent the characters' "daemons" made this a lovely production to look at. Unfortunately, even with six hours of stage time, the story still felt abridged and truncated - but then it was adapted from a densely plotted fantasy trilogy. Neither my husband nor I felt that the lead actress was up to the role, but we saw her understudy on the second night and liked her much better. Definitely worth seeing.
A Life in the Theatre by David Mamet, with Patrick Stewart and Joshua Jackson
Professor X in his underwear. May I say that Patrick Stewart has very nice legs, and a pretty impressive physique? Oh, and Joshua Jackson in his skivvies was also pretty easy to look at. What, you mean there was a play? Eye candy aside, both actors acquitted themselves quite well. Jackson kept up with Stewart through all the stops and starts of Mamet's dialogue, even if one couldn't stop thinking "Hey, it's Pacey and Picard!!"
Aladdin with Ian McKellen
From Professor X in his y-fronts to Magneto in a dress... The English have a treasured tradition at Christmas time of "pantomime." This has nothing to do with Marcel Marceau and men wearing striped shirts trapped in invisible boxes; instead, a pantomime, or panto, is a children's play, Traditionally based on a fairy tale but involving audience participation, schtick so broad a plane could land on it, and a man in drag, we learned that panto is an acquired taste and it probably helps if you grew up with it. This was our New Year's Eve celebratory play, and while I can think of worse ways to say goodbye to the old year than to watch Ian McKellan dressed up like Shirley MacLaine in her Rat Pack days, I can't think of a more surreal one.
Mary Poppins
Our Valentine's Day play. Highly acclaimed when it opened, Mary Poppins is now overshadowed as the premiere West End musical based on a movie by Billy Elloit. Still, a very great night at the theatre; everything you want from a musical from terrific dancing, charasmatic leads, sing-along songs, and moving emotion. At once very different yet similiar to the Disney film, the play is more adult than its predecesor but lacks some of its joie de vivre. Some songs from the film have been transplanted, others have been reworked or are missing altogether, and new songs have been added. But thankfully for the British audiences, Bert has an authentic Cockney accent (they still haven't forgiven Dick Van Dyke.) The highlight of the play is when Bert really does go "over the rooftops" during "Step In Time" - all in all, a fun evening out.
Madame Butterfly by Puccini
The Royal Opera House in Covent Garden is absolutely gorgeous, even when sitting way up in the balcony. A beautiful production in a perfect setting.
Macbeth (opera) by Verdi
In the summer, the remains of Holland House in Holland Park are turned into an outdoor opera stage (albeit under a tented roof thanks to London's damp summers). It's a small, intimate setting. The production design matched the spare space: a white-washed backdrop that gradually became crimson thanks to an inventive curtain of water that slowly washed away the top coat to reveal the deep red beneath as MacBeth and his lady plot their murderous deeds. Lady Macbeth was outstanding, her husband a little less so, but their amorous, amoral passion burned bright. And nothing beats having a split of chilled champagne waiting for you at intermission.
The Philadephia Story by Philip Barry; with Kevin Spacey and Jennifer Ehle
One has to give Kevin Spacey credit for gutsy choices in his first season as artistic director of The Old Vic: he puts on a Danish play with a title that translates as "sewer," giving the London press lots of headline ammunition for their reviews; he tackles that most English of traditions, the pantomime, with Ian McKellan (not necessarily known for his clowning skills) as the dame; he then picks National Anthems, a very American play about intrigues in white picket fence suburbia; and he follows it up by taking the Cary Grant role in The Philadelphia Story.
The play is well cast; Jennifer Ehle, who I only knew as Lizzie Bennet in the decade-old Pride and Prejudice, was a lovely Tracy Lord. She more than held her own on the stage. Tracy is not the easiest of characters to love; she bans her father from her wedding as a start. But Ehle imbues her with wit and grace, and you can see why three men (four, if you count her father) fight for the love of a heroine who is called cold and unfeeling by her family and loved ones more than once. DW Moffatt, who I only knew from bad sitcoms, was a hale Macauley "Mike" Connors, if rather bland and generic in his approach. Moffat didn't try to be Jimmy Stewart; in fact, he seemed to be channeling Cary Grant in "His Girl Friday." And speaking of Cary Grant... Alas, CK Dexter Haven, we hardly got to know ye in this production. It's hard following in Grant's footsteps. But Spacey's very angry yet inaccessible Dexter was not a step toward creating the role in his own image. His sudden turn on a dime from scary berating ex-husband to hop-skipping around the room happy suitor was especially jarring.
Blithe Spirit by Noel Coward
We got our seats from TKTS for half price, and I'd say that was about right. A fun night, as you expect from Noel Coward dialogue, but nothing incredibly memorable.
Grand Hotel by Luther Davis, Robert Wright and George Forrest; with Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio
The Donmar Warehouse puts on intimate theatre in the (almost) round, and while a musical that in its last incarnation was a huge, splashy Broadway production might seem an odd choice for such a small space it worked quite well. Mastrantonio didn't disgrace herself in the role of the faded ballerina (actually, I thought she was pretty affecting) but the rest of the cast really shown. An interesting, thoughtful production.
Tickets upcoming: Henry IV part 1 & 2 at the National, with Michael Gambon; Guys and Dolls (our 4th of July play) with Ewan McGregor and Jane Krakowski; and Mary Stuart at the Donmar Warehouse. Can't wait!
I'm happy to report that we have, indeed, been trying to take full advantage of living in one of the world's premiere theatre towns.
In fact, we've decided to celebrate holidays, British and American, by seeing a show. It started at Thanksgiving. It was the first one away from family for my husband, and I wanted to make it special. So I made us lunch reservations at the Ritz (and very ritzy is was, too, although their pumpkin pie left something to be desired. A pie crust topped by a millimeter of Libby's pumpkin underneath an avalanche of nutmug-infused whipped cream is just not pumpkin pie - sorry but there it is) but the best was saved for later: tickets to see Nathan Lane and Lee Evans in the The Producers. Nathan Lane was in the play but for a short time (filling in for Richard Dreyfuss who had a sore shoulder, or so they said) and I had snagged orchestra tickets the day the substitution was announced.
A London crowd doesn't grant standing ovations to just anyone. They are a very discerning bunch. The actors and the production have to really earn their kudos from an audience that feels that overt displays of emotional response are just not done (that's something Americans do, after all.) But when Nathan Lane and Lee Evans took their final bows, the crowd was on its feet, hands coming together in a blur of sound and motion, cries of huzzah! and bravo! almost drowning out the appreciative but piercing whistles.
The Producers was the best received theatrical production we've seen so far, but we've been lucky enough to see the following:
Oleanna by David Mamet, with Julia Stiles and Aaron Eckhart
A decent production; Julia Stiles was very convincing but Aaron Eckhart less so.
Democracy by Michael Frayn
Very thought provoking and compelling; one of the best experiences I've had at the theatre. Willy Brandt and Germany in the 70s doesn't sound like the most intriguing subjects for a play, and yet the audience is mesmerized. I'm sorry that the NYC production closed after five months; it's a play that I hope lots of Americans get to see.
His Dark Materials part 1 and 2; based on the Philip Pullman novels
A truly jaw dropping set design made this play work for me; the set was two stories high, rotated up and down on a drum, and no two scenes were in the exact same setting. Incredibly inventive costume design and wonderful use of puppets to represent the characters' "daemons" made this a lovely production to look at. Unfortunately, even with six hours of stage time, the story still felt abridged and truncated - but then it was adapted from a densely plotted fantasy trilogy. Neither my husband nor I felt that the lead actress was up to the role, but we saw her understudy on the second night and liked her much better. Definitely worth seeing.
A Life in the Theatre by David Mamet, with Patrick Stewart and Joshua Jackson
Professor X in his underwear. May I say that Patrick Stewart has very nice legs, and a pretty impressive physique? Oh, and Joshua Jackson in his skivvies was also pretty easy to look at. What, you mean there was a play? Eye candy aside, both actors acquitted themselves quite well. Jackson kept up with Stewart through all the stops and starts of Mamet's dialogue, even if one couldn't stop thinking "Hey, it's Pacey and Picard!!"
Aladdin with Ian McKellen
From Professor X in his y-fronts to Magneto in a dress... The English have a treasured tradition at Christmas time of "pantomime." This has nothing to do with Marcel Marceau and men wearing striped shirts trapped in invisible boxes; instead, a pantomime, or panto, is a children's play, Traditionally based on a fairy tale but involving audience participation, schtick so broad a plane could land on it, and a man in drag, we learned that panto is an acquired taste and it probably helps if you grew up with it. This was our New Year's Eve celebratory play, and while I can think of worse ways to say goodbye to the old year than to watch Ian McKellan dressed up like Shirley MacLaine in her Rat Pack days, I can't think of a more surreal one.
Mary Poppins
Our Valentine's Day play. Highly acclaimed when it opened, Mary Poppins is now overshadowed as the premiere West End musical based on a movie by Billy Elloit. Still, a very great night at the theatre; everything you want from a musical from terrific dancing, charasmatic leads, sing-along songs, and moving emotion. At once very different yet similiar to the Disney film, the play is more adult than its predecesor but lacks some of its joie de vivre. Some songs from the film have been transplanted, others have been reworked or are missing altogether, and new songs have been added. But thankfully for the British audiences, Bert has an authentic Cockney accent (they still haven't forgiven Dick Van Dyke.) The highlight of the play is when Bert really does go "over the rooftops" during "Step In Time" - all in all, a fun evening out.
Madame Butterfly by Puccini
The Royal Opera House in Covent Garden is absolutely gorgeous, even when sitting way up in the balcony. A beautiful production in a perfect setting.
Macbeth (opera) by Verdi
In the summer, the remains of Holland House in Holland Park are turned into an outdoor opera stage (albeit under a tented roof thanks to London's damp summers). It's a small, intimate setting. The production design matched the spare space: a white-washed backdrop that gradually became crimson thanks to an inventive curtain of water that slowly washed away the top coat to reveal the deep red beneath as MacBeth and his lady plot their murderous deeds. Lady Macbeth was outstanding, her husband a little less so, but their amorous, amoral passion burned bright. And nothing beats having a split of chilled champagne waiting for you at intermission.
The Philadephia Story by Philip Barry; with Kevin Spacey and Jennifer Ehle
One has to give Kevin Spacey credit for gutsy choices in his first season as artistic director of The Old Vic: he puts on a Danish play with a title that translates as "sewer," giving the London press lots of headline ammunition for their reviews; he tackles that most English of traditions, the pantomime, with Ian McKellan (not necessarily known for his clowning skills) as the dame; he then picks National Anthems, a very American play about intrigues in white picket fence suburbia; and he follows it up by taking the Cary Grant role in The Philadelphia Story.
The play is well cast; Jennifer Ehle, who I only knew as Lizzie Bennet in the decade-old Pride and Prejudice, was a lovely Tracy Lord. She more than held her own on the stage. Tracy is not the easiest of characters to love; she bans her father from her wedding as a start. But Ehle imbues her with wit and grace, and you can see why three men (four, if you count her father) fight for the love of a heroine who is called cold and unfeeling by her family and loved ones more than once. DW Moffatt, who I only knew from bad sitcoms, was a hale Macauley "Mike" Connors, if rather bland and generic in his approach. Moffat didn't try to be Jimmy Stewart; in fact, he seemed to be channeling Cary Grant in "His Girl Friday." And speaking of Cary Grant... Alas, CK Dexter Haven, we hardly got to know ye in this production. It's hard following in Grant's footsteps. But Spacey's very angry yet inaccessible Dexter was not a step toward creating the role in his own image. His sudden turn on a dime from scary berating ex-husband to hop-skipping around the room happy suitor was especially jarring.
Blithe Spirit by Noel Coward
We got our seats from TKTS for half price, and I'd say that was about right. A fun night, as you expect from Noel Coward dialogue, but nothing incredibly memorable.
Grand Hotel by Luther Davis, Robert Wright and George Forrest; with Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio
The Donmar Warehouse puts on intimate theatre in the (almost) round, and while a musical that in its last incarnation was a huge, splashy Broadway production might seem an odd choice for such a small space it worked quite well. Mastrantonio didn't disgrace herself in the role of the faded ballerina (actually, I thought she was pretty affecting) but the rest of the cast really shown. An interesting, thoughtful production.
Tickets upcoming: Henry IV part 1 & 2 at the National, with Michael Gambon; Guys and Dolls (our 4th of July play) with Ewan McGregor and Jane Krakowski; and Mary Stuart at the Donmar Warehouse. Can't wait!
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