Some theatre each day keeps the doctor away…


leave a comment »

Saw Phedre with Bell Shakespeare tonight.  Meh.  Desaturated would be the word.

I think I may have come, last night, to accept dance as a proper artform.  Well, not ‘proper’ – that suggests that I thought it was merely frivolous – but rather ‘pure’ or ‘strong’ or ‘expressive in its own right’.  Of course, saying that, I still consider it to be at the bottom of my list, I think – the last artform to take to the desert island.  But that’s what makes life so wonderfully grand, isn’t it?  You don’t have to live on a desert island.

Spent quite a few hours today wishing I was dead, but I seem to be a bit over it now, thankfully.  I wonder, though, if dancers have a high suicide rate, what with their careers being over at 35 or what have you.  That must be a tough transition.

271/whatever in Proust the fifth.

Written by epistemysics

June 13, 2013 at 3:29 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: