Day 144-148: Theatre in London

London. I can never get enough of that city. The energy, the vibrancy, the diversity, the Britishness... Just stepping off the plane put a smile on my face.

The National Gallery in Trafalgar Square

This time, I went to London to spend the weekend with Hannah and her friend Molly. We stayed at Molly's great aunt's, and I'd say it was the nicest place I stayed at on my whole trip. We had a guest flat in a large, modern glass building, in Chelsea (the posh part of London) right overlooking the Thames. It was a tad inconvenient to get to the tube (the nearest station was half an hour walk away) but a helpful bus ran right by the flat and into central London. 

At the Canadian Embassy- One foot in Canada, the other in Britain! :)

The point of being in London, as I wrote about here, was to get tickets to Coriolanus and Richard II, starring Tom Hiddleston and David Tennant, respectively. As I mentioned, we were only half successful, but I enjoyed the theatre experience nonetheless.

The stage at the start of Richard II

Firstly, Richard II was fantastic. Tragic, funny (the scene where they keep throwing down the gauntlet was flippin' hilarious), well-acted and directed, with beautiful musical additions... It was everything I had hoped it would be. Even without David Tennant, I would have loved the show. With him, it was basically the best first live Shakespeare experience I could have hoped for (odd, isn't it, that I hadn't see Shakespeare live before? What kind of English Major am I?)

The stage at the end of Richard II

Since Hannah and Molly were disappointed about not seeing Coriolanus, they had scoured the West End to find another show for us to watch that evening. Eventually they bought tickets for Agatha Christie's 'The Mousetrap,' which is the world's longest running play, going for 62 years and 25,498 performances. I really enjoyed the show, it was dramatic and funny and clever, and watching it definitely took the sting off of not seeing Coriolanus. We were just a tad depressed when we walked out and noticed that the Donmar Warehouse was right across the road. So near, yet so far...

St. Martin's theatre, playing the Mousetrap

Sunday was supposed to be an exciting day: morning church service at Hillsong, afternoon tea at Molly's aunt's, and evening service at Westminster Abbey. Unfortunately, I managed to get dreadfully ill with a fever/flu/cold, so I spent the entire day lying in bed, too knackered to even watch TV. By the evening I was feeling a bit better (probably because Hannah made me take a pill, helped down by a spoonful of Nutella) so I called my family and talked to them for about three hours before my iPad decided to quit. 

These lovely ladies dressed up for The Mousetrap;
I was still in a hoody and messy makeup after queuing at 6:50 for Richard II! 

On Monday, I took the four o'clock train back up to St. Andrews. It's really convenient how they have a train service directly from London up to Aberdeen, running past St. Andrews, so it only took me 5.5 hours to get back.

The Albert Bridge in Chelsea, where I went for a walk Monday morning

And that concludes my adventures. Forty days, eleven cities, countless friends and relatives and acquaintances... It was quite a time. I'm never going to forget this Europe trip.

Day 160 Part 4: Worth It?

After telling people about my ridiculous adventures in London trying to see Coriolanus, the most common question is: 'Was it worth it?'

It's a fair question. £70. 27 hours on a bus. 21 hours in three queues, with half of those hours in the cold and rain. Less than ten hours of sleep in three days. All that to see one play.

When I went to queue for Richard II, I woke up at 5:00am and arrived at the Barbican just before 7. As I walked up to the theatre, more than a little tired, I remember thinking that I had reached my limit- waking up at 5:00 would be the most I'd do to see a play.

Yeah, right.

Now, after going far past what I ever thought I'd do to see a play, the question of 'is it worth it' is a little tricky. Richard II was definitely worth waking up at 5:00am, but could Coriolanus possibly be worth the time and money I invested in it?

Strictly speaking, I don't think it was 'worth it.' Had I known what it would take to see the show, I definitely wouldn't have done it. As much as I absolutely loved the performance, I don't think any three hours are worth what I 'paid' for Coriolanus.

But still... I'm glad I went. In the same way that I enjoyed walking through London in the dark and wet, I somehow liked standing in a queue at 2:30am. Somehow, the utter insanity and discomfort of the situation made it into a positive experience. It was just so unlike anything I'd done before, or hopefully will ever do again.

After all, that's why I went. When am I going to get the chance to see Tom Hiddleston live in Shakespeare again? When can I just take off and go to London for two days? When can I be part of the insanity that is West End theatre queues?

Maybe it wasn't worth it. Maybe I was more than a little crazy to go. But it was an experience, one I won't forget any time soon. So, am I glad I went? Absolutely.

P. S. I promise that this is the last time I'll post about Coriolanus. I also half-promise that I'll start posting about my Europe trip soon. I've decided I'll just edit a half dozen photos from each location, rather than waiting until I've sorted through all 2000 pics. So maybe I'll get them up only a month late?

Day 160 Part 3: Coriolanus Review

Coriolanus was amazing.

After hearing so many good reviews and travelling all the way down to London for the show, my expectations were pretty high. Investing so much into seeing the show was definitely setting myself up for disappointment… but I wasn’t let down in the slightest.

The acting, of course, was phenomenal. Tom Hiddleston more than fulfilled expectations, making Coriolanus into a truly relatable character, both despicably proud and undeniably human. How he manages to stay adorable while covered in blood I’ll never know…

Mark Gatiss as Menenius
(apologies for the green glare- this is
a photo of a photo)

The supporting cast was certainly worthy. Mark Gatiss shone as Menenius, distancing himself from the role of Mycroft while still keeping the sly charm and just a hint of sass. I also recognized Peter De Jersey (Horiatio in the David Tennant Hamlet, also in Broadchurch and Doctor Who) and Elliot Levey (an absolutely miserable Don John in the David Tennant and Catherine Tate Much Ado About Nothing). The casting of one of the tribunes as female (Helen Schlesinger) took a little while to win me over, but by the end I was attached to all the cast.

The diversity of the cast gave the production an edgy, modern feel. With a cast of just fourteen, five were women (with two of these women playing multiple roles) and five were black (including two of the women.) Some reviewers felt that casting more women in a play that deals so heavily with gender (let’s just say that Coriolanus is a bit of a mama’s boy) obscured the issues the play addresses, but I thought that increasing the number of female characters made the questions of gender more relevant to a modern audience.

The stage before the production

Sound was used effectively throughout the performance. Although I think the performance wasn’t miked (I didn’t see any, and neither did my friends watching on National Theatre Live) I could hear every word, from the quietest soliloquies to the stirring battle speeches. Frequently the cast spoke in unison or recordings of crowds played, creating a sense of a much larger cast. Also, jarring music (almost a sort of symphonic heavy metal) played during the scene changes, contributing to the oppressive and edgy feel of the play.

The stage at the conclusion of the production (side view)

The set was deceptively simple, featuring a single ladder up to the ceiling, a back wall of brick, and around a dozen black chairs. However, the physicality of the play was fantastic—the chairs were slammed in time to music, thrown around, or arranged into barricades for the battle scene. Other objects, such as swords, were also tossed with astonishing precision. Heavy sticks hurtling across the stage, landing nearly a foot away from an audience member, certainly added to the intensity!

The shower scene. :)

The most remarkable aspect of the production, however, was how stuff was spilled on the stage. The play opens with Coriolanus’ young son painting a red square across the stage, creating almost a gladiatorial arena. In the first act, Coriolanus enters covered in blood, then proceeds to shower at center stage, screaming in agony as blood and water flow from his wounds and cover the stage. During Alfidius’ (Coriolanus’ nemesis) speech in the next scene, he spreads the blood across his face, and at the end of the play he allows blood dripping from Coriolanus’ death wound to fall on his head. Multiple times the stage is covered in falling rose petals or in torn up red ballots. As the lights dim, the stage is littered with various blood-red elements.

In short, I thought Coriolanus was brilliant acted, directed, and adapted. It was concise, visceral, edgy, and utterly enthralling. Despite having only two hours of sleep the previous night, I never came even remotely close to dozing off. Coriolanus was quite possibly the best performance I have ever seen, and, if they release the filmed version as a DVD I will certainly buy it so I can watch this show again and again. I may have come for Tom Hiddleston, but I left in awe of the entire production.

Days 158-161 Part 2: London and Back Again

If you had told me a week ago that I'd spend 27 hours on a bus, 20 hours queuing, and around £70 in order to see Tom Hiddleston and Mark Gatiss in Coriolanus, I wouldn't have believed you. Had I known how much trouble it was going to be before I set out, I probably wouldn't have gone. 

But I did go. And now, after seeing the wonderfulness that is Coriolanus, it was 100% worth it.

The plan was pretty straightforward. Take the bus down to London on Thursday, stay with a friend of a friend, queue Friday for Coriolanus tickets and then try to get Henry V tickets (staring Jude Law) on Saturday.

Sadly, Friday was an utter failure. Despite waking up at 5:00 am and arriving at the theatre at 6:00, there were still nearly forty people in front of me. I should have just gone straight to Henry V to queue there (it has a longer run, so it's easier to get tickets) but instead I decided to stick it out for Coriolanus. 

At 10:00, the box office opened and the line started moving... and kept moving... and we (myself and two American exchange students I met in the queue) actually started to have hope that we'd get tickets. But no such luck. When I was just 8th in line, they ran out of day seats and standing tickets.

So we joined the line for returns. This was nicer because it was inside, so I actually managed to get some stuff done (reading for class, memorizing lines for a play, writing blog posts about Europe). However, we waited all day but no returns came in until 6:30. They kept trickling in slowly up until the show started... and when the performance began I was third in line. So. Close.

I went back to the flat rather dejected and drank a cup of much needed tea before heading off to bed around 11.  I resolved to wake up at 2am... but my internal clock actually woke me up at 1:30. So I got up (amid severe doubts of 'is this really worth it?) got dressed, ran to the bus stop (the tube doesn't run that late/early) and got to the Donmar Warehouse by 2:20, where I found myself about 25th in line.

It was a hopeful position. On Friday 30 people had gotten tickets, and there had only been one show. There were two shows on Saturday, and fewer people in front of me. I was fairly certain of getting a ticket, assuming that everyone in front of me didn't buy two.

I waited in that queue for eight hours. In the cold. And the wet. I wore four jumpers and was still cold. When it rained, I shared an umbrella with an American exchange student who was right behind me in the queue. She was a theatre major, so having her to chat to made the time go by much quicker.

The Saturday queue (the box office is by the little red sideways sign on
the building on the right side of the pic; the end of the line stretched a fair
ways off the left side of the photo...)

At ten the queue started moving. Soooooo slooooowly. The line behind me stretched the length of the block. I tried to take comfort from the fact that if so many people were waiting behind me, there must be hope for me... but I started to be convinced that I wouldn't get a ticket, that I'd have to sit in the returns line again, or else go back disappointed.

But. BUT. I did eventually make it to the ticket window. And not only were there places left, but there were actual physical seats (not just standing places) left for the matinee. So I bought one. And I jumped and squealed and nearly cried. I just couldn't believe that all that waiting had actually paid off.

I went back to the flat, had a quick nap, showered, and headed back in for the matinee. Thankfully, despite having just two hours of sleep that night, excitement kept me wide awake. After all that trouble, I was going to enjoy that show.

And I did. So much. I'm pretty safe to say it's my favourite of all performances I've seen. It was funny, and tragic, and classic, and modern, and inventive, and so ridiculously well acted. I won't say any more now, bc this post is long enough already, but I'll blog in detail about the show tomorrow. 

I left the theatre so high on the show. It had completely emptied me, in a way, like any great tragedy should. I was so enthralled by the show that I couldn't focus on anything else.

Except for then I could, because that's when Andrew Scott showed up, making my fantastic day better than I ever imagined.

Sadly, the epic tale of Rachel's trip to London has a slightly depressing end. I had planned to take the overnight bus up front London and arrive back in St. Andrews in time for church on Sunday morning, but unfortunately, the bus had other plans. When we had just passed Carlyle (northwest England, right by the border of Scotland), the bus got a flat tire. So we sat there. For nearly two hours. Finally a replacement bus rescued us an took us to Glasgow where we were hastily allocated to different buses. After another transfer, I finally arrived back in St. Andrews early Sunday afternoon. Total journey time: 13.5 hours.

It was a crazy weekend, with more travel and less sleep than I've ever had (I think...) Tomorrow, I shall describe the play that made it all worthwhile...

Day 160 Part 1: How I Met Moriarty

Look at Moriarty. Then look at me. Then back to Moriarty. Then back to me.

WE ARE IN THE SAME PHOTO!

Yeah. Huge fangirl moment.

(To anyone who doesn't get the significance of this photo: go watch Sherlock. You won't regret it.)

Andrew Scott has got to be one of my favourite actors. He has such an amazing way of turning ordinary lines of dialogue into something memorable (remember "that's what people DO!"). I love how he covers such a range of styles, from quiet and creepy to full blown anger, often in just a few seconds. He can act out-of-his-mind psychotic and then go back to seeming completely normal. His versatile acting style completely made the character of Moriarty, so I really admire his work.

And I got a photo with him! :)

It happened as I was leaving Coriolanus (which I will talk about in MUCH more detail later- I think there are going to be about four posts titled 'Day 160,' since I just have so much to say.)

I was walking out of the theatre, my head full of how amazing the show was. A bunch of posters hung in the lobby with images from the show, so I was taking photos of them because, obviously, I couldn't take any photos during the actual performance.

I turned around to leave, and there he was. Andrew Scott. About five feet away from me, just talking to some people. (I heard Laura Pulver, who plays Irene Adler, was also there, but I didn't see her.)

I did a huge double-take. He just looked so ordinary. You'd expect Moriarty to be there with a huge fanfare and theatrics, but, no. He was just a normal guy.

At that point he turned and began to leave the theatre, walking right past me. I sprang forward and asked him what is likely the most intelligent question he has ever been asked, "Are you Andrew Scott?"

When he replied in the affirmative, I had just time to say that I really liked his Moriarty before we were out of the theatre and there were a ton of fangirls, cameras at the ready, hoping for a photo of Tom Hiddleston (who didn't end up coming out.)

Someone asked Andrew Scott for a photo, and he agreed. As soon as they were done, I asked, handed my camera to someone, and got that photo with him.

At that point a lot of people were asking for photos and autographs, so he sort of looked around and commented, "This probably isn't the best place to meet Mark" (meaning Mark Gatiss, who plays Mycroft in Sherlock and who had a fairly large role in Coriolanus). Then he went back inside, saying he'd come back out, but I don't know if he did because I didn't stick around.

I walked away from the theatre a little stunned, simply because I hadn't expected that at all. Had I had a chance to talk to Tom Hiddleston or Mark Gatiss that would have been less shocking, since I expected to see them (and I did, in the show, but I didn't get to meet them).

It was just so weird to meet Moriarty. Pretty much my favourite screen villain, absolutely brilliant and psychotic and creepy but charming... It was so weird to have him be right there, so ordinary, and so pleasant.

The most bizarre thing was that, despite how Andrew Scott is (obviously) a very different person from Moriarty, his voice is exactly the same. On Sherlock, he speaks rather softly, almost in a British sort of drawl. I half thought that was just a character voice, but no. He sounds exactly like that in real life.

And that is the story of how I met Moriarty, which just made the whole experience of seeing Coriolanus that much better. Also, I learned that Andrew Scott is staring in a West End play in April-May, so I think another London trip is in order...

(P. S. I'll be talking more about Coriolanus and going to London and the general craziness of my trip in some future posts over the coming days. To those of you who aren't friends with me on Facebook, this probably seems a little out of the blue, but I promise, details are forthcoming!)

Day 146: Back in the UK... and Queuing

(The proper British experience- a queue)

I'm currently sitting in the Barbican theatre in a queue of far too many people, waiting for tickets to David Tennant's Richard II. My friends Hannah and Molly are probably at the Domar Warehouse (a smaller theatre in the West End) queuing for tickets for Tom Hiddleston's Coriolanus. If all goes well, I should get to see both today, one matinee and one evening. At very least I'll get to see Richard II, since I'm currently person forty in the queue, and they have sixty day seats.

All this theatre madness means, of course, that I'm back in the UK. London, specifically. It's fantastic to be back here, to have all the signs in English, to hear the British accents, and to be in a semi-familiar city. I may not have spent much time in London, but I definitely know it better than Budapest!

The strangest thing, actually, has been the language. It's been almost as jolting as when I got home from my Quebec trip- I was so used to hearing another language all around me, to not being able to read signs, and to speaking slowly when asking for directions from a local. Getting back to all-English was an unexpected shock. 

It's also funny how London feels so homey. As soon as I got off the plane, almost literally as my toe hit the tarmack, I felt like I was back where I belonged. The little happy voice started chattering in my head, and I immediately began talking in a British accent. I picked up a bit of an accent over Christmas, lost it while travelling, but as soon as I got back to England, even before talking to a single British person, my accent was back. 

I'm in London until Monday afternoon, hanging out with Hannah and Molly at this really posh flat in Chelsea, a nice area in west London. It's been great to see my friends again and I love getting to visit London with some other people. Hannah is also into rather different things than I am, so we're going to a lot of different places than where I went last time. If this was my first time in London I'd be disappointed that we weren't going to the famous sights, like Big Ben and the London Eye, but since I've been here before it's nice to see new stuff. 

This queue is ridiculous. It's now 9:30, which means I've been here for over two and a half hours. There are likely about twice as many people behind me as ahead, meaning that there are about 120 people waiting for day seats... about twice as many as there are seats. I have no idea why people near the end are still here. I suppose it is the last day the play is showing, so they're probably just holding on to the vain hope that someone will return a ticket. Still, it's another hour until the box office opens, meaning they'll probably be waiting for nearly two hours still only to be disappointed.

(Later note: I got tickets to Richard II! Unfortunately, we didn't get Coriolanus tickets, but I probably would have picked David Tennant over Tom Hiddleston, if push really came to shove. As I post this, it's the interval between the two acts of Richard II, so I have seen David Tennant! So much excitement!)

Summer Goals

One of the wonderful things about being home for the summer is that I can finally actually get some reading and writing done. I read Entwined (by Heather Dixon) the other day, and it was the first YA novel I’d read in nearly a year. I also read Shakespeare’s Coriolanus (because Tom Hiddleston is performing in the title role this fall in London) Maybe it’s silly to read another classic, just like what I’ve been studying at university all year, but it’s still nice to read it for personal pleasure, rather than for a class.

With eleven weeks of summer ahead of me, I’ve decided to set some goals to make the most out of my PEI vacation. I’ll be working full time at the library and hanging out with friends, but that should still leave time for plenty of reading, writing, and enjoying what PEI has to offer.

To make sure I don’t spend the summer on Facebook, I’ve set some SMART goals under the general headings of Reading, Writing, and PEI. You possibly know that SMART stands for Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Realistic, and Timely, and I find the acronym helpful for setting goals that actually have a chance of getting completed.

Under Reading, my goals are very simple. I’d like to read ten Shakespeare plays (and watch the film versions) and at least fifteen YA novels. I’ll likely read more than this, but with a relatively low goal I know I won’t end up spending the last week of August frantically reading ten novels simply to meet an arbitrary limit.

Beyond excited for this play!

Writing goals were a little more difficult to define. I have two major projects I’m working on (a novel and a play) and while I’d love to finish them both, I doubt I’ll have the time in just two months. Writing is also dangerous to measure by output, especially since I’ve never written a play before and I have no idea what sort of speed I can expect. So, I’ve decided to measure my writing goals by time, spending five hours a week, with at least fifteen minutes a day. I’ll also write book reviews for every novel I read and blog twice a week, which doesn’t count under this time limit.

Finally, since this may be the last summer I spend at home, I’ve decided to take advantage of what PEI has to offer. There’s an amazing theatre community here, so I’ve made up my mind to see at least five shows, whether that be a professional musical like Anne of Green Gables, or a smaller comedy my friends are starring in. I also want to visit two places (beaches, hiking trails, tourist sites) that I’ve never visited before, because even though I’ve lived here for seventeen years there are so many places I’ve never seen.

Those are my goals for the summer. Hopefully they’re all SMART, and I’ll actually end up reaching them. It would be refreshing to look back at the end of the summer and see how much I’ve accomplished.

Now, over to you. What are your summer goals? How do you plan to reach them?