Random Jottings

Rainy Day Ramblings

Pouring with rain at time of writing, grey skies and really it could almost be November.  After one of the driest two months for yonks the tennis and cricket season is here in the UK and, naturally, the rain is simply pissing chucking down.  It was ever thus.

I had an unpleasant week last week.  I was sorting out my finances and getting involved in mortgages and equity releases and it was all getting a bit hairy as everyone seemed to need advance cheque to release information and to cover 'setting up costs' and 'administration fees' and the Inland Revenue have written to me to tell me I owe them tax from about three years ago which they said they would take and never did, and then the Management Company who 'manage' my block of flats refused to send certain info to my solicitors without more upfront costs, and it all got Too Much to Bear and I literally took to my bed feeling totally overwhelmed and miserable.

So feeling thoroughly sorry for myself and then within the space of four hours, I had three telephone calls to say that all was organised, the solicitors said all was well and the Management Company who normally charge a fee if you blow your nose, agreed to release all this info gratis.  After the last telephone all I took to my bed again to recover from the shock of them agreeing to do anything without sending out a bill.

Yesterday I went up to London to meet with a friend and to go to the theatre to see Blithe Spirit with Alison Steadman as Madame Arcati.  I had been looking forward to this as a few hours to take my mind off all the bureaucratic crap I had to deal with, but now most of that was sorted, I could relax and enjoy the play.  It was tremendous fun and my friend Linda had never seen it before and it was great to be with somebody seeing it for the first time.  I know that Alison Steadman's performance did not meet with the approval of a lot of the critics, or indeed the play itself, and I can see why - it was very Margaret Rutherford'ish, she had obviously seen the classic film, and though it was very funny and carried off with great aplomb, I was not as taken with it as I was when I saw Penelope Keith in the same role a few years ago.  But the play is just so marvellous that it is impossible to see a bad performance and this was far from that.  Great stuff.

Coming home on the train in the evening with the crowds and the inevitable crapulous mobile phone calls from all and sundry was, as ever, dire and ghastly but I had taken the precaution of charging up my iPod and so was able to block out all the dross, but oh dear, once again the wave of thankfulness that swept over me when I thought that I no longer had to do this every day.

Today have had a quiet day and have been enlivening my time by following the Test Match via the cricket page in the Telegraph on line which is always texted really wittily by their correspondents.  I sometimes join in and today sent off an email about Boycott's miserable moaning yesterday, this elicited a response and then I emailed in to say that I was following the cricket at the same time listening to Die Walkure on Radio 3.  I am firmly of the opinion that if you like Wagner you have the correct mindset for Test Cricket.  This was then picked up by one Simon stuck on a train in France and he said he would be eating his fingers soon he was so bored so my email back suggesting he should listen to the Wagner then brought up a comment from another reader that could this be the First SMS Test Cricket Romance and could he come to the wedding?   It all got a bit silly and this email exchange was only printed because it was raining and unlikely any more play today, but it really made me laugh and lifted my spirits.   

The Die Walkure on Radio 3 was simply stunning and a fantastic performance. All neighbours out so I had it on full blast and just wallowed.  Wagner and Cricket - bliss.

And then this morning I finished reading Mr Scarborough's Family by Anthony Trollope. HIs last three volume novel to be completed and, as with all Trollope, once I started this I simply could  do nothing until I had read it right through it and found out what happened in the end. And there is a last minute twist which I could not have envisaged and I really think that this has been one of the best of this author's works that I have read.   There is something so beguiling about Anthony, he draws you in, addresses you the reader and make you feel for the characters and the events until you realise you are at a stage where you cannot put the book down so involved does the reader become.  Happens to me every time.  I am having a bit of a Trollope fest at the moment and will be writing about it soon.    I am not sure that I am beginning to prefer him to Dickens............

Oh and re the above - I still have the Inland Revenue to battle with but I have enlisted the aid of my MP, I have studied the statute about unpaid tax of long standing and I am ready for the fray. I feel one of my letters coming on, what my friends all an Elaine Special.

Let battle commence.

An Ideal Husband

While I am prepared to believe that somewhere out there such a creature exists, my personal experience tells me otherwise and it is clear that Oscar Wilde agrees with me, hence the ironic title of his wonderful play.  I thought I had seen this on stage before, but then realised I hadn't and my knowledge of this work was based on the film starring Jeremy Northam, Cate Blanchett, Rupert Everett, Minnie Driver and Juliette Moore as Mrs Chevely.

Well of course the play is twice as long  and, much though I enjoyed the film, seeing the full play in the theatre is a totally different experience.  Sir Robert Chiltern is held up as the beau ideal, the perfect husband,  a politician with integrity and moral probity, a rare creature indeed. He has a glittering career, everyone loves and admires him, his star is in the ascendant and then Mrs Cheveley turns up.  She is a woman of dubious character and is determined to blackmail him and bring him to ruin and destruction by the use of a letter in her possession in which it is clear he sold a state secret many years ago in order to make his fortune and boost his career.   Nothing much changes in Parliament it would seem....

His wife was at school with Mrs Chevely and has nothing good to say about her and yet, while it is obvious that the lady is a scheming minx who will stop at nothing, she is a fascinating character and played to the hilt by Samantha Bond, better known as Miss Moneypenny in the Bond movies, dressed wonderfully well in sumptuous rich fabrics emphasising her sophistication and glamour.   By contrast Lady Chiltern was costumed in subtler, somewhat drab colours, all of which added to emphasis her seriousness and goodness.  She is not a character with whom one can feel much empathy - sometimes goodness can be boring.

Lord Goring, the part played by Rupert Everett in the movie, is seemingly an idle, effete man about town who glories in doing nothing much at all.   It is a gift of a part, full of marvellously witty lines and it is he who gets all the laughs.  But underneath that careless exterior beats the heart of a true friend and a much wiser and thoughtful person than we are led to believe and it is he who is the one who brings about the resolution to the situation.   I am finding it hard to review An Ideal Husband and to try and get across just how much I admired the writing and the depth of feeling behind it - on the surface a frothy comedy full of bon mots and attitudes, but underneath real heartache and pain which is reflected in the superb acting of the entire cast.  I am linking further reviews for you to read which explain it all so much better than I.

http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/theatre/review-23897024-oscars-humanity-in-an-ideal-husband.do

http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2010/nov/11/an-ideal-husband-review

http://www.theartsdesk.com/index.php?option=com_k2&view=item&id=2547:an-ideal-husband-vaudeville-theatre&Itemid=27

A lovely afternoon. I was going with a good friend - we both survived working for a certain law firm and lived to tell the tale - and my daughter Helen also came along as we had a spare ticket.  James was left at home to do some father/daughter bonding and we had a great time.   When attending the theatre I always find the first fifteen minutes or so slightly unsettling.  When going to the movies, the film is up there and you just sit and watch - in a theatre I always feel somewhat awkward to be so close to real people, not celluloid ones and it takes me a while to attune to the experience.  Once this is done, total absorption sets in and I am left filled with admiration at the acting and stagecraft of those taking part. As we left the theatre I was quite overwhelmed with the thought that in two hours time they were going to come back and do it all over again.

Coming up in April, when I am back from Australia, we plan to go and see Blithe Spirit with Alison Steadman as Madame Arcati.   That is something to look forward to...

Catch up

Not quite sure where October went but it has passed in a flash.  I seem to have spent most of it belting up and down the A12 to London and back, but not complaining as Florence is there at the other end waiting for me.  Of course helped with the move as well, then have been away for a few days and organising more of my Australia trip and suddenly here we are in November.

I have been dipping in and out of books with no particular plan or focus, just tend to grab what is there.  Had a blip a few weeks ago when I simply could not make up my mind what I wanted to read next, a fate which seems to befall all us bloggers at one time or another, so did my usual re-reads of some old favourites until I got into the swing again.

As I have mentioned before this year seems to be my year for reading spy thrillers and detective novels and, though not planned, I have enjoyed this foray into this fun kind of reading.   I have been reading Janet Evanovitch and Tess Gerritsen, have now finished all the Wallander books of Mankell and the other week when I was in the library I picked up a couple by Lisa Scottoline.  Straightforward murder/thriller/ conspiracy type books and I read three of them in one day and enjoyed them in a slob out on sofa kind of way.  Cannot remember anything about them now and abandoned one of them as it got a bit silly. But they passed an hour or three.

To my surprise and delight I found a PD James I had not read.  One of her Cordelia Grey novels, The Skull  Beneath the Skin.  Hunting out others featuring this character and I can only find two. Are there any more?  Anyway, Cordelia is hired to accompany an aging actress to a private performance of a Webster playt on a private island.  The said actress has been receiving death threats increasing in their intensity and though at first it was thought they were sent merely to cause her to lose her nerve on stage (and she did), they end up in her murder.  We have a classic setting, all the suspects on an island which can only be reached by the ferry, a grand Victorian type castle, a collection of  friends and relatives,  all of whom have a motive for murder.  Absolutely terrific and after reading the aforesaid Lisa Scottoline novels, the prose of which, while not purple, definitely had a lilac hue, it was sheer pleasure to read the elegant, clean prose of PD James.  I know this lovely lady is in her nineties now but I do hope, selfishly, that she is with us for a while yet so that she can give us more of her wonderful writing.

I have also read Deadheads by Reginald HIll, which was another good find as I discovered I had not read this as well and pretty damn good it was too.   A quiet man whose path to promotion and to the ownership of a house with a beautiful garden which he was always wanted, is eased by mysterious deaths of those in his way - accident or coincidence and does he get away with it?   We are left wondering.  Another brilliant read from Reginald HIll,

Then in complete contrast, I have been reading  a biography of Nigel Dempster  by Tim Willis who used to write for the Daily Mail for years. He was their so called 'gossip columnist' though he was light years away from the reportage we now see about 'slebs' in Hello magazine, OK and others.    He seemed to know everyone who was everyone, his writing was sparkling and I cannot recall a time when his stories were wrong.  Unlike today, when magazines write what they like and sometimes make up a so called scoop, Nigel Dempster checked every word and made sure his story was accurate.   He broke the story of the collapse of Princess Margaret's marriage and the resignation of the Prime Minister Harold Wilson, huge stories and he would have been in trouble if they had been wrong.    Though he knew everyone he seemed to be a very self contained somewhat lonely person with broken relationships and took to drink.   I used to read his column regularly and though he could be acerbic and to the point I can never remember him being unkind.   Not bad for an epitaph for this consummate journalist who died in 2007.  

And then sheer delight - And furthermore by Judi Dench.  This is not an autobiography, more a series of reminiscences of her acting life which were told to oneJohn Miller who has done a great job of turning them into this book.   She doesn't give much away about her family life and the death of her beloved husband is passed over pretty quickly, but what she does give us is anecdote after anecdote, story after story about actors, actresses and producers with whom she has worked.   Difficult to pull out one or two so I am not going to try - just buy the book and read for yourself. I know Dame Judi doesn't like being called a National Treasure, but she is one and will have to put up with being designated as such.   She comes across as a warm, lovable woman BUT it is clear that she takes no nonsense from anybody and has a determination to guard her privacy and private life from prying eyes.  I read this book in a sitting and ended up loving her more than ever.  I raved about her performance over on Random Arts, when she appeared at the Sondheim 80th birthday concert at the Proms, and she mentions this and said she was petrified when she walked onto the stage.  No sign of this at all.   Wonderful woman.

Am also re-reading some old books picked up at sale by Evelyn Anthony another one of those authors who I used to read in my teens and twenties. Still excellent and pacy and will be writinhg about her in a post soon.

So a good mixture and have enjoyed all of them in varying degrees and as I came back from the annual NSPCC book sale on Sunday with another twelve books, don't think I am going to be running out of reading matter for a bit...

Henry IV Part 2

Was in London yesterday looking after the Divine Florence who is now standing up clutching onto things, at 7.5 months!  She shows no interest in crawling so looks as if she will just go straight to walking.  Her mother was the same, my other daughter not walking for some time as she could crawl at such a speed she saw no need to walk but did finally much to my relief.

But today back up to see the second part of Henry IV at the Globe following on from Part I in August and really looking forward to it.  I find the whole Globe experience quite wonderful and we have good weather and the sun is shining so should be a good day.

10 pm - well about to hie me off to bed as really tired but oh it has been a lovely day.  Arrived in London and it was raining in stair rods but had brought a brolly so set off to walk to the Globe from Liverpool Street station.  Took me about 25 minutes and I was pretty sodden by the time I arrived. Had arranged to meet my friend in a coffee shop opposite and we had lunch there before entering the Globe.  The reception area was simply HEAVING with packs of students and school children all coming for talks and being taken round the permanent Shakespeare exhibition. I had forgotten just how noisy teenagers could be and the sound was deafening and I found myself being jostled about by children who seemed to have no care or manners at all and was getting really annoyed with one gang of Italian students when their teacher spotted I was being pinned to the wall and let rip with a stream of what sounded like vituperative Italain upon which they parted like the Red Sea let me through.

Henry IV Part 11 is a more sombre play than Part 1 and there is less of the high jinks between falstaff and Hal as they are apart for most of the play. It was quite brilliantly done, as are all productions at this wonderful theatre, a closeness of communication between the actors and the audience, and the feeling that we are all sharing in this wonderful experience together.  The scene between the dying Henry IV and 
Hal was marvellous and moving and of course the final rejection of Falstaff heartbreaking. When I saw it at the National a few years ago, the new Henry V dismissed Falstaff without a qualm and was icy cold which made it quite gut wrenching for Sir John, but in this production you could see that though Henry knew he had to do it, it hurt him to abandon his faithful friend.  Even if Falstaff was ont he make, was a drunken, lying womaniser, there is no doubt in my mind anyway, that he loved Hal as a son. 

The Falstaff I saw at the National was Sir Michael Gambon and he was, needless to say, sublime but Roger Allam, who has twice won the Olivier award for actor of the year, was just as stunning as Falstaff. Plenty of reviews if you want to give them a Google and all agree that this is the performance of the year.

A marvellous afternoon. The evening play was The Merry Wives of Windsor and for a moment I thought of staying on but realised I was too tired and as I fell asleep on the train home, so it proved.   The journey home with the commuters was awful - I had a seat and was perfectly comfortable, but just being back on the train at this time brought home to me just how much I loathed it and how grateful and thankful I am that I can sink into my bed tonight knowing I don't have to do this any more. 

So a restful weekend and then I am off on my adventure on Monday....

 

Thursday Random

Am about to get dressed, blow dry my hair, bung some slap on and drive off to park car at station and then off to London.   Tree being pollarded outside my window at moment and noise considerable so will be quite happy to leave that behind.  Last time the beautiful willow tree was 'pollarded' it was reduced to pathetic stump with a few wisps of leaves hanging off the edges so wonder what it will look like when I get back tonight.

Have been to London twice this week (not Florence sitting sadly), went up on Tuesday to meet a friend, recovery time yesterday and now back up today but this time will be pumping up the grey cells as I am going to see Henry IV Part 1 at the Globe.  I love going to this theatre.  First of all its location, right by the  river is wonderful.  Secondly, when the sun shines as it is today it is magical. Thirdly, it is always packed out, all seats sold, groundlings teeming below and everyone has a simply marvellous time.  I loathed Will for years because of the teaching I had at school and also the style of Shakespeare acting prevalent in the 60s which put me off for yonks.  Lots of ranting and raving and posing and it seemed that all the speeches started quietly and ended up with the actor spitting and furious by the end of it. Yes, I know that is a generalisation and I daresay I am totally wrong but that is how I saw it.

Sooo different at the Globe - Shakespeare comes alive and is so immediate.  Whenever I am there I always think of that scene in the movie Shakespeare in Love, when the audience is totally transfixed by a performance of Romeo and Juliet.   That is exactly how it is at the Globe.

Will report back on the morrow.

Fare thee well....

Private Lives - Noel Coward

Went to see this yesterday and have just posted my review over on Random Arts.  Please do nip over and see what I thought of it - wonderful.

Bijou postette

New post up on Random Music. Do read - am trying to get the traffic up on this blog!

Ian Richardson Remembered - Sharon Mail

Readers of Random may remember that I wrote some time ago about how, for many years, I had lost my interest in the theatre and, in particular, Shakespeare.  I am pretty sure you will have forgotten, why you should remember passeth all understanding, but the two posts are here and here.

Any my reason for mentioning them in this review?  Because it reminds me of just how much I missed in those wilderness years. My ex-husband always loved the theatre and Shakespeare and used to attend the Chichester Festival and go to Stratford and he saw some simply marvellous productions and was present at wonderful performances by individual actors.  I missed them all and when I read this memoire of Ian Richardson, who died two years ago, I began to feel aggrieved all over again that I did not see this superb actor on stage.  It is clear from the memories of his fellow actors and those producers he worked with, that he was 'a consummate actor' this phrase popping up over and over again, with a magnificent speaking voice which could mesmerise the listener.

I only know Ian Richardson from television, but my two main memories are of him in Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy and House of Cards and I suppose if those two are to be my personal remembrance, then I could hardly pick better.

When I first watched Tinker, Tailor it was shown on a Monday night and every Sunday they repeated the previous week's episode so that viewers could catch up and remind themselves of the intricacies of the plot (no i-player around in those days) and boy did we need it. The intrigues and labyrinthine double dealings and counter plots meant that you really had to be alert and I remember one night sitting down and taking the episode step by step to fully understand what was happening.  Ian played Bill Haydon, a member of MI5 and he was smooth and elegant and charm personified.  George Smiley, superbly played by Alec Guinness, had to find out who the mole was at the 'Circus' and as we watched each character being investigated and uncovered, it was impossible to guess who was the traitor.   The standard of acting in this series was extraordinarily high, how could it fail to be with such a cast, and it is available on DVD - I have it and last year I watched it again and though it is now some 30 years old it is still as superb as ever.  There is one pivotal scene between Guinness and Richardson which I have watched over and over again so lost in admiration am I at the interplay between these two magnificent British thespians.  I am being very careful not to give away the plot here, as I so want those of you who have never seen this series to get hold of it and watch.

And so we come to The House of Cards.  The opening shot of the first episode had Ian Richardson, playing an MP, Frances Urquhart, sitting at his desk.  The camera is behind him looking over his shoulder and he holds at a photograph of Mrs Thatcher.  He puts the photo into a desk drawer, turns his face to the camera and us and says "Nothing lasts forever. Even the longest, the most glittering reign must come to an end one day".  Then he smiles coldly.

Now that was a simply stunning opening, but then the most amazing stroke of luck for the producers of this series, at least from their point of view, not sure that Mrs Thatcher who resigned just a few weeks after the show started, would agree, but this seismic political event was a case of fiction becoming reality and it just caught the imagination.  Ian's character, Frances Urquhart and his wife (the two Macbeths) coldly and clinically planned his ascent to the office of Prime Minister, ruthlessly dispatching anyone who got in their way. It was television of the highest order and just so exciting that it had you on the edge of your seat. Susannah Harker played a young, susceptible journalist who becomes sexually involved with Urquhart and who he chose to disseminate carefully placed information.  HIs response to any question 'You might say that Mattie, I could not possible comment'  became the catchphrase of the year and, in fact, has now passed into general usage and was part of our family's collection of in house jokes and day to day comment for years.  It comes as no surprise to me when reading this section, that I discovered this line was actually put in the script by Andrew Davies - yes the ever present and ubiquitous scriptwriter and producer of Pride and Prejudice amongst many others.

Though these two examples may be my poor attempt at an appreciation of this wonderful actor, at least they are two that show him at the top of his form and his capabilities.  I just have to regret that I never saw him as Richard II or the Government Inspector or Ford in the Merry Wives of WIndsor and other roles that are too long for me to list here and be happy that I saw him as Haydon and Urquhart.

When reading a biography, though this is in no way a full life, the character of the subject has a habit of slipping through between the lines.  An author can only say so much about the person they are writing about, but quotes and sayings and comments actually spoken by their subject, give the real person away. Ian Richardson married his beloved wife Maroussia in 1961 and was devoted to her to the day he died.

They were inseparable and when he saw her after an absence of a few hours, he greeted her as if she had been away for months. She loved him, took care of him and he relied upon her totally.  He adored her and because of this security and love he was able to give of his best on the stage, he was thoughtful and helpful to young actors, took direction with grace and charm and, though he could cuss and swear and lose his temper with the best of them, he was lovable and much loved.

In fact, my main impression is that he was a warm hearted and kind man.  To me, kindness is the greatest of the virtues and I can think of no higher compliment than to say this about this wonderful actor.

I thank Sharon for sending me a copy of her book - I am most grateful to her.

Oliver!

Got to London yesterday eve to find that Rowan Atkinson was alive and well, had not fallen downstairs or thrown out a splinter and was doing the performance so that was a relief.  First hurdle out of way.

However, we had another one to face. I only discovered yesterday that the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane has No Lift.  It is a listed building and so English Heritage had said that we all have to hike ourselves up endless stairs to get to our seats (I am reliably informed that there are 35 steps to the Grand Circle where we were sitting) so multiply that by about four, sling the odd ups and downs into the bars and loos etc and you will realise that the hoi polloi up in the gods are punished even more for their poverty by denying them oxygen and finishing them off.  My friend Rosemary is very arthritic and cannot do stairs so we had a problem here and after I let fly with a few verbal volleys about discrimination and access for the disabled, I was informed they did indeed have this access but it was only in the stalls. AH HA! shrieked I, so if you are disabled and POOR and cannot afford the stalls it is well toodle pip, goodbye and off you go (well I did'nt quite put it that way but you get the drift). 

To cut a long story short, a charming young manager called David then came along and led us through a way that cut out half the steps and let us into the auditorium before anybody else.  He also detailed two nice young things to keep an eye on us and could not have been more helpful.   Turned out that this was his bread and butter job and what he really wanted to do was to be a singer and he was a tenor with an audition the following week for a bit part in We Will Rock You.  Never fails to amaze me how interesting people are behind what looks like an ordinary exterior.  Last time Ro and I went to Covent Garden we got into a taxi driven by a man who used to be a chorister and a child singer and actually sang in the children's chorus in Act 1 of Carmen at the Opera House. True.

 

I am rambling, ok don't say it (nothing new there then).  The show was simply wonderful.  My two daughters loved Oliver and knew, and still do know, every single word of every single song, as do I and Rosemary threatened me with dire consequences if I joined in while the show was on.  I managed it but it was hard and I finally gave in at the very end when practically the entire audience was singing Consider Yourself at the tops of their voices.  It was a joyous evening, Rowan Atkinson quite quite brilliant, the Nancy not quite so, the chorus and boys marvellous but the the star of the evening was the set and production.  Simply stunning. 

 

The stage at Drury Lane is 80 feet deep and with the perspective and St Paul's in the distance looked even more so, each scene shifted and changed and it was magnificent. 

Audience on their feet at the end yelling appreciation.  Magical evening.

Oh and as well as going into Lady Brackcell mode at the theatre, I had to do the same at the restaurant where we had arrived early for a meal before hte show, waited 50 minutes for our starters, they then got them wrong, had to wait for replacements and we did not have time to eat our main course.  I made my displeasure felt and heard by the entire restaurant and we swep out, my final words being 'And please don't even think of charging us for anything we have eaten or drunk...."

Of course by the end of the evening we were a tad clemmed so sat on the train going home eating the biggest ham and cheese baguette I have ever seen, purchased at Liverpool Street. It was pretty revolting as well but needs must.  I do hate eating on trains but as we were surrounded by late night revellers on their way back to the sunny climes of Essex stuffing their faces with Macdonalds, hot pasties, Whoppers, sausage rolls and one man eating sushi, all washed down by pints of Coke, Red Bull and Fanta, we were not out of place.....

Great evening but gosh I am tired today.

Restoring the Repertoire

On Thursday I paid a visit to Bury St Edmunds with my good friend Jan Jones to attend an evening performance at the Theatre Royal of The Wolf and the Lamb by Thomas Egerton Wilkes and The Celebrated Mrs Inchbald, written and performed by Katie Bonna. This came under the umbrella of a programme entitled Restoring the Repertoire - A Series of rehearsed readings of forgotten gems from the 18th Century theatrical repertoire.

   

The first of these two pieces was not in costume but was a reading of a play which had been read through and rehearsed by the actors for the first time that afternoon.  It was an extremely silly and funny farce about two identical brothers who had been brought up separately, one turned out to be an honourable and studious young man, Edwin and his brother, who rejoiced in the name of Gossamer had spent his life in London and was a cad and a rake and all that was shallow and dastardly.  Their cousin Rose has to marry one of them or forfeit a fortune and of course Edwin adores her but is too shy to tell her of his love, and she turns to Gossamer who is prepared to marry her purely for her fortune.  Well, we all know that there is going to be lots of mishaps and mistakes and muddles in mistaken identity before all ends happily and so it does, but it was tremendous fun and acted with great verve and brio by the actors.

The second half was a one person monologue about Mrs Inchbald. The programme notes tell us that 'independent, determined, ambitious, witty and talented the beautiful Mrs Inchbald was a remarkable woman and not just by the standards of the period she lived in.  Born in Stanningfield near Bury St Edmunds, she became one of the most successful playwrights of her time and her play Lover's Vows is  immortalized in Jane Austen's Mansfield Park'

Katie Bonna who both wrote and acted in this play was very very good indeed at bringing to life all her friends and family, switching between the different characterisations with great ease and style. This was a fascinating piece but it really did require concentration and attention from the audience, which she certainly obtained and held.  My knowledge of this period of history is not as comprehensive as I would like it to be, in fact it is pretty poor, but suddenly in the  middle of The Celebrated Mrs Inchbald, Mary Wollstonecraft and her marriage to William Godwin was mentioned and suddenly it all fell into place and I had the sense of period there in my grasp which really enhanced my enjoyment of this piece. (My knowledge of Mr Godwin and Mary was gained by reading Death and the Maiden by Janet Todd last year which I reviewed here).  

At the end of the evening the company came onto the stage and a question and answer discussion took place between the audience and the actors which was extremely interesting and I put forward the view that knowing something of the background and historical context of the Mrs Inchbald play must surely add to our enjoyment and would it be a different kettle of fish to perform this play in front on an audience who knew nothing about it?  I gather that this has already been done and seemed to be well accepted and, really, I suppose you would be highly unlikely to attend an evening like this unless you were interested in this period.   

An alert and intelligent audience and one who obviously love and support this theatre which is an absolute gem and recently restored and renovated.  They do Shakespeare and opera there as well and I cannot think of a more perfect way to spend an evening in this wonderful building (the only working Georgian theatre in the UK I gather) watching such delightful acting as this.  We were sitting in one of the boxes actually on the stage which put us slap bang in the middle of the action and it was such fun being so close. 

 

Earlier in the day, Jan had taken me to the assembly rooms to have a look round as she had already told me just how wonderful the ante room was and here is a picture.  Doesn't this just knock your socks off?  Just as good as Bath and every Jane Austen character you can think of would be at home here.  Simply gorgeous.