The Stratford Festival

Myself and Elly with The Bard

Over the past week, I’ve had the privilege of spending two days in Stratford, Ontario, home to the Stratford Shakespeare Festival. While the way the town so blatantly copies Stratford-Upon-Avon in England is a tad amusing, it does an excellent job. There’s the gorgeous Avon River, complete with swans, a quaint high street perfect for window shopping, and a half dozen theatres hosting world-class performers. In other words, it’s pretty much my dream town.

By taking two trips with my friend Elly (who definitely deserves a shout-out for organizing and driving!) I managed to see four shows: Pericles (late Shakespearean comedy), She Stoops to Conquer (18^th century marriage comedy by Oliver Goldsmith), Hamlet (no explanation required), and Oedipus Rex (Greek tragedy by Sophocles). It was a rather eclectic mix, spread out over two thousand years and a variety of genres.

Hamlet, unsurprisingly, was my favourite. Pericles was beautiful and She Stoops to Conquer was hilarious and Oedipus Rex was intense, but Hamlet was all of these, and more.

Programs! :)

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from the production. Hamlet is my favourite play of all time; I’ve spent countless hours poring over the text for essays and presentations, and I’ve watched the 2009 RSC production starring David Tennant nearly half a dozen times. I have full scenes memorized (just ask my grad school friends!) and I can pick out variants from the three different early printings. I’m more than a little bit of a Hamlet nerd.

The beginning wasn’t fantastic. The lines in the first two scenes were spoken so quickly I could barely catch them, and Jonathan Goad (as Hamlet) raced through soliloquies and spoke lines almost sarcastically when I was used to hearing them delivered in a melancholy tone. It also took me quite a while to get used to the Canadian accents—event though I’ve been back in Canada for nearly a year and my own British accent has long since gone, it was still weird to hear Shakespeare with a Canadian accent for the first time, since every other production I’ve seen, whether live or on film, had British accents.

But it got a lot better. Or, perhaps, I allowed myself to enjoy it more. I began to appreciate this new Hamlet, with his dry humour, and Claudius with his hearty laugh, and Gertrude with her slow loss of everything she loved. Over the course of the play I stopped caring about the accents or whether the actors fit my mental picture and just lost myself in the story.

Backdrop of She Stoops to Conquer at the Avon

I cried at the end. Not because I was so sad that Hamlet died, but because, just sitting in my seat for three hours, I had been through so much. In front of me, characters had lived and died, hated and loved, laughed and cried, fought and made peace, betrayed and been loyal, found forgiveness or died unrepentant. The whole of human experience had been played out there, directly in front of me, and I had been a part of it.

It made me remember why I love theatre, why I plan to literally spend the rest of my life studying plays from over four hundred years ago. It’s because the stories are timeless, because a good dramatist can create characters and plots and themes that are no less applicable now than they were hundreds of years ago. And also because, in the theatre, we can become part of those stories, watching the characters come to life in front of us.

Sometimes, when I spend all day at my laptop in a windowless office typing words that seem meaningless, I forget why I study English. Yesterday, at the Stratford festival, I remembered.

Days 288-293: The Mikado

On June 21st, a few days after mum went back to Canada, I performed as Peep-Bo in Gilbert and Sullivan's most famous operetta, The Mikado. Set in Japan, the story follows Ko-Ko, The Lord High Executioner of Titti-Pu, on his quest to obey the emperor, the Mikado, and find someone to execute... or be executed himself. 

It's somewhat of a dark comedy, with a lot of the humour revolving around characters planning each other's deaths, and it's often been accused of racism because of its portrayal of Japan. However, I think that the over-the-top situations and the caricature of Japanese culture are used to satirize the British political system, rather than poking fun at Japan, and the sheer strangeness of the story makes the satire more effective.

(Three little maids from school- I'm on the left, looking rather pleased about something)

The production came about in a sort of roundabout way. The performers were all members of the G&S society at St. Andrews, but it wasn't an official production. We just happened to have all the right people this year, performers who exactly fit the roles for the show, so we decided to put on a semi-staged version during the week before graduation. 

Since most of our society members were gone from St. Andrews by grad week, the chorus was sung by the audience, and we ran workshops throughout the day for people to learn the music. The principle roles were all cast by our lovely director without auditions, since she already knew who she wanted for each role. 

I got to play Peep-Bo, one of the 'three little maids from school.' Normally it's the smallest role in the show, with only a dozen lines and small parts in a few songs. In our production, however, we switched things around to even out the three little maids parts, so I ended up with quite a few lines and some substantial solo singing. It was a fun role for me, one I could bring a lot of energy to, with some pretty amusing emotional highs and lows. 

("I will instantly perform the happy dispatch with this dagger!")

Our rehearsal period was less than a week. We began rehearsals on Monday and performed Saturday evening. This meant that everyone was expected to attend 9-5, and sometimes long into the evening. I was a little apprehensive heading into rehearsal week, but the condensed time period really brought out the best in people. We all knew it would be hard, and we were determined to make it work.

Show day was certainly stressful. Due to availability of two of our principles, we never actually managed a proper dress rehearsal- the performance was our first (and only) full run! However, as we saw a good twenty people show up for the chorus rehearsals, and as around a hundred enthusiastic audience members turned up for the show, we knew it would all work out.

And it did. The show was by no means perfect-- I think I managed to somehow mess up every one of my vocal solos-- but it was fun. We were having a fantastic time and the audience was laughing and cheering and clapping and calling out 'encore!' I remember, near the end of the performance, sitting backstage and thinking how being in The Mikado, my favourite G&S, was quite literally a dream come true. 

(Behold the Lord High Executioner!)

My career in St. Andrews drama is basically over now. The Mikado was my final performance in St. Andrews, and in August I'll perform The Sorcerer in Harrogate with the society. Due to an unexpected job offer, one of our cast had to drop out, so I've been given the role of Hercules, which is a small but funny speaking role.

I'm so excited to have one more show with the society. Performing in St. Andrews has been an amazing experience. Eight shows later, I'm definitely a better, more confident performer, and as enthusiastic as ever. 

Days 247-251: Five Days, Five Shows

Last week was our second revision week before exams. Being the studious student that I am, I decided that the library was overrated and a trip to London would be far more fun. So I packed a bag and set off to enjoy four days of London's theatre.

The Rosetta stone at the British museum

Other than theatre, I also watched the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace, which was rather disappointing. I stood there for over an hour and all I saw was  four groups of guards marching into the palace grounds and one group marching out. There were thousands of people there so I couldn't get close to the gates, or I might have been able to see more. Basically, I wouldn't recommend it unless you have tons of time to arrive super early and get a space right by the gates.

I also spent some time in the British museum and I think (after about four visits) I've finally been in every room. I loved the ancient Babylonian, Egyptian, and Assyrian statues-- it's just amazing how old and well-preserved the artifacts are. 

Now, to the five plays I managed to see:

Cats (New Wimbledon Theatre, Tuesday, £20 upper circle)
This production was only in London for two weeks and it was showing down in Wimbledon, which meant I missed the first twenty minutes because the tube journey down took so long. It didn't really matter, though, because Cats doesn't have much plot. Based on T. S Eliot's 'Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats,' it's basically a showcase of song and dance held together really loosely by the idea of the Jellicle Ball. While I was disappointed by the lack of a story, I was blown away by the quality of the dance and vocals.

Cats stage during the interval
(with Old Deuteronomy signing programs)

King Lear (National Theatre (Olivier), Wednesday Matinee, £15 Circle day tickets)
Starring Simon Russel-Beale, I had heard nothing but good things about this production of Lear. I was unfortunately in the very back row, so I didn't get a good look at the actor's faces, but I loved them all. Performed in modern dress with a rotating stage and a large military chorus, the show felt clean and slick, highlighting Lear's descent into madness and the resulting political chaos. 

King Lear's stage before the performance
(the moon was a projection, and they had it slowly eclipsed as we waited)

Birdland (Royal Court Theatre, Wednesday evening, £10 student circle)
Starring Andrew Scott, this play was the reason I went to London. I booked my ticket months in advance, since that particular performance had a talk-back with the cast and crew afterwards. The play followed rock star Paul (Andrew Scott) on his journey through fame, showing how it destroyed his relationships with everyone around him. Although the play itself was perhaps a tad too black and white (money=bad, real relationships=good) it was an intriguing look at fame, especially since half the audience (myself included) had only come to see Andrew Scott, who is himself dealing with unexpected fame. There was a fantastic scene where the character Paul declines to take a photo with a fan because he says that photos are like taking a piece of your soul... but after the show he took photos with a bunch of fans (myself included!) at the stage door. In that way, the play did a great job in implicating the audience in the devastating impacts of fame.

Moriarty! And Me! In the same photo! Again! :D 

Once (Phoenix Theatre, Thursday, £25 front row day seat)
Starring Arthur Darvill (Rory on Doctor Who), Once was absolutely adorable. The music was all played by the actors onstage, giving the whole production a homey, comfortable feel. The songs were beautiful ('falling slowly' featured several times- I hadn't realized it came from this musical). The story was poignant, and the actors all had incredible chemistry. Arthur Darvill was so cute that somehow his somewhat subpar musicianship made him seem even more endearing (I should note that he was better than I expected; he just didn't stand out in a cast of strong musicians). The female lead, Zrinka Cvitešić, made me love her from the instant she pushed past me to make her entrance. All in all, a beautiful performance, only enhanced by how I was literally touching the stage. 

So. Much. Adorable.
(the photo isn't mine- my camera ran out of batteries before this show)

Titus Andronicus (Shakespeare's Globe, Friday, £5 standing)
Seeing a show at the Globe was quite literally a dream come true. As a renaissance drama nerd, I've always wanted to visit the Globe, and stepping into the theatre was like entering a fantasy world. I was a tad worried about getting a standing ticket for a three hour show, and I've got to admit that it was hard on the feet, but the proximity to the actors made it so worth it. I was right up against the stage, placing me just inches from the actors. At several points they ran right through the audience or shoved us aside to make way for a triumphal procession. They utilized the space so well that I didn't mind the lack of lighting, a curtain, or the fourth wall. While I'm not a huge fan of the show itself- it's simply so disturbingly violent that I'm not sure it can be properly enjoyable- the actors all did a phenomenal job, and I was able to easily follow the plot despite not having read the play. Finally, during the bows at the end they dragged audience members up to dance across the stage, so I grabbed a hand and got pulled up onto the Globe stage! It was truly an amazing Shakespeare experience. 

Titus's triumphal procession through the audience
(this is also not my photo)

All in all, my London theatre week was everything I had hoped it would be. I packed in a lot, but not too much, so I was able to relax a bit and enjoy some time with friends on the last night. So much more fun than sitting in the library studying!

Day 230: The Sorcerer

"All is prepared for sealing and for signing!"
A scene in the middle of Act I

The Gilbert and Sullivan Society’s production of The Sorcerer closed yesterday, leaving me with a crippling case of post-show-depression this evening. Twenty four hours ago we would have just taken our bows and I’d be running into the foyer to hug friends and listen to their congratulations and thank them for coming to see the show (seriously, to anyone who came to see the show—thanks so much! It means the world to me that you came out and enjoyed it).

Myself and Peter Sutton as John Wellington Wells--
the Sorcerer

The Sorcerer was a very different show than Iolanthe. Set in the village of Ploverleigh in the west of England, the plot is a mix of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Doctor Faustus. Alexis and Aline are about to get married and so they decide that everyone in the village should also be in love. Enlisting the help of John Wellington Wells, the local sorcerer, they concoct a love potion which causes everyone in the village to fall asleep… and then fall in love with the first person they see. Mayhem ensues, resulting in the death of the sorcerer, but the eventual happiness of everyone else.

Some fine ladies of Ploverleigh...
and an unexpected visitor

I was a chorus member and choreographer for the show, which was great fun. Though The Sorcerer isn’t my favourite G&S operetta, the chorus has some fun songs and is onstage for a substantial amount of time. We also had some acting to do (falling in—and out!— of love) as well as some semi-complicated blocking/dance, so the show presented a bit of a challenge even though I wasn’t a principal.

The Lady Sangazure (left) condescends to pose with
the lower classes

Thankfully, the show isn’t really quite over. On May 3^rd, St. Andrew’s is hosting Scotland’s celebrations of the International Gilbert and Sullivan Day, which include speeches, a three course dinner, and a promenade performance of The Sorcerer through the town. Then, in August, we’re taking the show to the International Gilbert and Sullivan Festival in Harrogate (in the north of England). These performances won’t be the same, of course, but still… it’s a chance to revisit Ploverleigh and sing all the songs again!

Upper class ladies of Ploverleigh

What I’ll really miss, though, are the people. There’s really nothing that brings people together like being in a show. When the final curtain went down and I realized that I’d likely never perform with many of these people again… I just didn’t know how to deal. It’s been absolutely magical to inhabit the fictional world of Ploverleigh with all these friends and so very hard to leave.

My stage husband, Ronan

But. BUT. This is far too pessimistic a view of acting. Yes, it’s tough when a show’s over. It’s hard to tear myself away from the people and the music and the costumes and the lights and the story… but there are more stages to tread, and more characters to play, and more stories to tell.

Yes, I’m sad The Sorcerer is over. But, in the end, I’m even happier that it was a part of my life. Thank you so much to the cast and crew—you were all fantastic, and I’m honoured to have worked alongside you.

The entire chorus (points for spotting me!)

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 195: This Breathing World

It’s been over a week now since we performed This Breathing World, a student-written play which sets Shakespeare’s Richard III in a dystopian (almost Orwellian) future.

"Don't think of it as murder. Think of it as Political Removal."

I was cast before Christmas, auditioning with a few scraps of the script that the writer/director (a friend of mine) had pieced together. I admit I was a little wary of the project at first—would it be worth it to invest so much of my time and effort into such an odd play, especially when the script didn’t exist yet?

Then callbacks happened, and the script we read from (parts of which had been written just the night before) was fantastic. I immediately got a great sense of character from the script and chemistry from the other actors I auditioned with. I left the callbacks desperate for a part… and was absolutely thrilled when I was offered the role of Lieutenant Brackenbury in an email at about 1am that night.

"I may not be the one that makes the laws, but
I'm the one who enforces them."

Lieutenant Brackenbury was a fascinating character to play. She’s by far the strongest character I’ve ever portrayed—a sassy, gender-bent, powerful version of the conflicted character in Richard III. She’s important yet respectful, upholds justice but loves mercy, professional yet emotional… The writer, Catriona, really expanded on Richard III and made Brackenbury a proper character, not just a figurehead for the law.

The play itself was intriguing, concentrating on Harriet, Duchess of Buckingham (a gender-bent version of Henry Buckingham) and her reasons for helping Richard seize the crown. Together, they murder and manipulate their way into power… until Richard’s decision to kill the princes in the tower (his own nephews and the rightful heirs to the throne) convinces Harriet that what she’s doing is wrong. The play was an interesting look at doing the wrong thing for the right reasons and the disastrous consequences of “simply following orders.”

My character was the embodiment of the famous phrase: “All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.” As the Lieutenant of the Tower, I had some authority, yet I used it almost unquestioningly to help Richard. I was the one who oversaw the execution of all of his political enemies, many of whom were innocent. I felt bad about it, I tried to help people, I nearly cried… but I never actually had the courage to stand up and say that it was wrong.

"My Lords and Ladies of Albion, on behalf of His Imperial Majesty,
Emperor Richard III, I would like to remind you that the Tower
complex is a secure area."

It was a hard play to perform, emotionally. When I act I try to get deeply into the character, to feel everything they’re feeling. In Brackenbury’s case, by the end of the play, this was complete and utter brokenness, a loss of faith in the empire, humanity, and herself. It was so hard to perform the execution scenes, acting as if I was allowing my friend to die behind me. After the act one finale, a particularly distressing execution, I had to run offstage and literally sob against the wall because that was the sort of emotion Brackenbury (and thus, I) was feeling.

I’m sad This Breathing World is over. I miss running around with my leather jacket and my space gun and my snazzy All-Seer jewellery. Still, I don’t mind leaving that dystopian future and returning to the significantly happier present. I loved taking over Brackenbury’s life for the rehearsals and performances, but the fact remains that I’d far rather be a student at St. Andrew’s than a lieutenant on the planet Albion. Acting is a wonderful escape, an adventure, but, after the last light fades, it’s time to live my life.

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!)

Day 71: Iolanthe Opening

Back in the good old days when Iolanthe was still an everyday part of my life, I wrote a couple blog posts about the experience. Due to lack of photos and general busy-ness, I never posted them. So now, I present to you, a series of three posts about Iolanthe. Today's installment was written the day of the first show, when I was definitely feeling the pre-show jitters...

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Iolanthe opens today!

It’s bizarre to think that we’ll actually be performing in just a few hours. The dress rehearsal yesterday, where we finally got to use the real stage, made it feel a bit more real, but it’s still strange to think that all our hard work is going to pay off tonight.

There's nothing like being on stage again...

We’ve put so much effort into this show. Gilbert and Sullivan Operettas aren’t easy, but I’ve been really impressed with how everyone has handled the challenge. For the most part it’s been relatively smooth sailing, until the past few weeks where the little issues have started to surface. Singing with a live orchestra, for instance, is much more difficult than I expected. However, everyone’s really stepped up their game in the past few days, and I’m confident everything will fall into place tonight.

Fairies watching during the dress rehearsal

We had a bit of a scare on Saturday when our title character was ill. One of the other chorus principles was bumped up to play Iolanthe, so I had to take her songs and a few lines. It was a little stressful, having to learn extra parts at such short notice, but it was also really exciting to find that we were so well prepared to handle the crisis. As it turned out, the actress playing Iolanthe was better in time for the dress rehearsal, so the show will run as planned. But I still know Lelia’s part, in case she accidentally trips on the stairs…

One thing I’ve loved about being in Iolanthe is that I got to be the choreographer for the show. I joined the production expecting that there would be quite a bit of choreography involved (all the Gilbert and Sullivan operettas I’ve seen before have been quite dance-heavy) and was disappointed to learn that there would be very little dance. When the director learned I was interested in choreography, he started giving me little bits of music to fill with dance until eventually, just three weeks ago, I was officially dubbed Lord High Choreographer.

Loudly let the trumpets bray!

Initially, it was rather stressful being thrown into this role three weeks before the show (not that I’m complaining—I kinda asked for it…) I had four dance segments to create and teach to a cast of mainly non-dancers. The first choreography rehearsal was really nerve-wracking because I had just spent hours composing the dances, and I was worried the director wouldn’t like them. Instead, he really liked what I had created, and he contributed a couple ideas to make them even better. My volunteer dancers were also super keen and enthusiastic, and they learned the combination really quickly.

In short, Iolanthe has been a whirlwind of singing and dancing, of new experiences and new friends combined with general Gilbert and Sullivan awesomeness. It’s been so much fun, and I’m already excited for next year’s production.