Some theatre each day keeps the doctor away…

Henry IV

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Saw Henry IV tonight with Bell Shakespeare at l’Opera House.  Ah, that’s the stuff.  What a fantastic – and long, but wonderfully long – night at the theatre.

Beforehand, I took it upon myself (oh, what responsibilities I have to go out of my way to experience the wider world and all its curiosities, what grave goals I set myself, what pretensions I won’t rise (or sink) to) to investigate a blue carpet down the side of the Opera House, all the way down to the point.  It was for a launch of the Samsung something-or-other (a fourth generation mobile phone I believe), though I couldn’t get all the way down to the point because of a cordon and a lack of being-on-the-list on my part.  (Not that I actually tried to get in; rather I saw it would probably be hopeless.)  But there was a little shop/demonstration-unit set up outside the restaurant on the side they have there, and I had a look in there before the show, only to discover that the three tables in the middle had huge black boxes on them.  (I looked over during the interval to see the boxes had been lifted – presumably the launch had taken place.)  There were also projections on the sails of the Opera House, of many photos and whatnot (no space).  I thought the Vivid Festival had come a month early, I did.

(Samsung apparently is a principal partner of the Sydney Opera House, hence the desecration.)  (Desecration?  That’s a bit harsh.  But I did recoil at the idea of advertising.  Not that it mentioned Samsung in the projections, thank goodness.)

My accuracy at typing tonight isn’t the best.  I’m a tad drunk.

Post show party,  one had two and two-third glasses of wine (or two and half, perhaps – I had one filled up partway through drinking it).  Also had three (or four – no, three) sundried tomato tarte tatin with feta pesto, which were more than warm and more than scrumptious.  (First time I’ve used the word ‘scrumptious’ in at least a year, I’m guessing.)  A risotto-esque with mushroom (or rather, mushroom risotto) ball which was crumbed/fried/something.  Some sort of quasi-mini-hamburger which was much less than the sum of its parts.  (This, instead of having a mini-bun, had two elongated and thin pieces of pseudo-crispy bread, along with a slice of meat (beef, presumably), pickle, and sauce, and possibly other ingredients.  It was warm; I wanted it hot.)  There were prawns in batter (which I didn’t have), and something in a bamboo cup that looked like it had some sort of pumpkin mash in it (which I also didn’t have).  Though I’m not sure about the latter, as I’m basing the dish on what I saw of the leftovers that a waiter was carrying away.

John Bell (playing Falstaff in the production) gave quite a good speech, and we toasted Shakespeare’s 449th birthday.  Which reminded me that I had completely forgotten the anniversary of me seeing Travesties.  (The dates are close together.)  Except, writing this now, I realise that I haven’t forgotten the anniversary.  (I think I like to think, in my dark moments when I need some hope, that I saw Travesties the day after Shakespeare was born, and hence that’s some sort of sign.  For some reason I thought I saw it on April 21st.)  The anniversary is tomorrow, April 24th.  Well, it’s past midnight as I write this, so the anniversary is today, really, but I’ll celebrate tomorrow.

So happy birthday, Mr. Bard.  I’d never got around to watching the second two thirds of the second part of Henry IV in the recent BBC TV adaptation (life got in the way), so it’s nice to finally finish it off.  Although I did know what happened in the end, anyway.

106/— in TTOG.


Written by epistemysics

April 23, 2013 at 4:06 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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