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smallhobbitThis trip was our Christmas present from SM’s parents - or at least they gave us some money and we used it to pay for the concert tickets and Travelodge. It was the opportunity to see Andreas Scholl again and visit the new Sam Wanamaker Playhouse at The Globe.
I was really looking forward to seeing the theatre, having heard so much about it. I imagine others will like it a lot, but I didn’t. It’s a reproduction of a Jacobean indoor theatre and although well done, still looks like a reproduction, trying to be what it isn’t. In some ways it reminded me of going to candlelit concerts in St Martins-in-the-Fields, but there the wooden panels on the walls feel warm and here I could sense no feeling. I realise that the idea is to make the audience feel like they are back in Shakespeare’s time, but I was very happy we were at the back and therefore had something to lean against. I would have been fidgeting by the end had I been sat on a bench with no back. There is the intention that you feel close to the performers, but it’s no better than at the front in the RSC theatres, so not as radical as perhaps they believe. All very artificial. And the ladies had no hand towels and only one ineffective hand dryer.
The concert was a combination of Andreas Scholl singing Dowland and Campion, some period lute playing together with an actor reading some Shakespeare. I came to the conclusion that I am not a great fan of lute music – as SM said, there may be a reason why the lute was superseded by other instruments. And the Shakespeare was far too declamatory. But Andreas Scholl, despite either having a cold, or suffering from hay fever, and therefore being forced to clear his throat at times, was wonderful. I have already posted a link to Waly Waly, which was so beautiful it nearly reduced me to tears, but other songs were equally powerful. There was no problem hearing all the words, which is important when singing what are essentially folk songs telling a story, and the clarity of his tone is wonderful. I was very, very happy to have heard him sing again.
We stayed overnight in a Travelodge and the following morning, since it was only about five minutes walk away, we went to the Tate Modern before catching the train home. (I should point out that in both journeys we only lost six minutes!) I remain unimpressed with a lot of modern art and have to admit that probably my favourite paintings were one by Turner and a late Monet water lilies. There was however a picture made of up fragments of mirror glass by an Iranian artist, which I liked too. This was based on a method that was used in the seventeenth century, but brought up to date. It appears that the modern art I do like seems to be where artists have taken traditional methods and let them flow and change, rather than those where the artist has rejected the traditional forms.
It was also interesting seeing the gallery of Soviet posters, both from immediately after the 1917 revolution and also as Stalin enforced his power. I am clearly part of the great proletariat, because they seemed far more relevant to me than a lot of the other art on show. Finally, there was one exhibit which required darkness to appreciate it, so there was a short passageway that progressively got darker as you headed towards the middle – a bit like a maze, but only one route. The first time I walked down it by the time I reached the central part I was almost unable to walk any further, because I could feel my mind saying stop and I had to force myself to keep walking. I came back out, acclimatised myself to the light and went back in, but this time, knowing what was coming and keeping one hand against the partition there was no problem. The exhibit in the centre wasn’t of interest, but making my way in was an experience.
I was really looking forward to seeing the theatre, having heard so much about it. I imagine others will like it a lot, but I didn’t. It’s a reproduction of a Jacobean indoor theatre and although well done, still looks like a reproduction, trying to be what it isn’t. In some ways it reminded me of going to candlelit concerts in St Martins-in-the-Fields, but there the wooden panels on the walls feel warm and here I could sense no feeling. I realise that the idea is to make the audience feel like they are back in Shakespeare’s time, but I was very happy we were at the back and therefore had something to lean against. I would have been fidgeting by the end had I been sat on a bench with no back. There is the intention that you feel close to the performers, but it’s no better than at the front in the RSC theatres, so not as radical as perhaps they believe. All very artificial. And the ladies had no hand towels and only one ineffective hand dryer.
The concert was a combination of Andreas Scholl singing Dowland and Campion, some period lute playing together with an actor reading some Shakespeare. I came to the conclusion that I am not a great fan of lute music – as SM said, there may be a reason why the lute was superseded by other instruments. And the Shakespeare was far too declamatory. But Andreas Scholl, despite either having a cold, or suffering from hay fever, and therefore being forced to clear his throat at times, was wonderful. I have already posted a link to Waly Waly, which was so beautiful it nearly reduced me to tears, but other songs were equally powerful. There was no problem hearing all the words, which is important when singing what are essentially folk songs telling a story, and the clarity of his tone is wonderful. I was very, very happy to have heard him sing again.
We stayed overnight in a Travelodge and the following morning, since it was only about five minutes walk away, we went to the Tate Modern before catching the train home. (I should point out that in both journeys we only lost six minutes!) I remain unimpressed with a lot of modern art and have to admit that probably my favourite paintings were one by Turner and a late Monet water lilies. There was however a picture made of up fragments of mirror glass by an Iranian artist, which I liked too. This was based on a method that was used in the seventeenth century, but brought up to date. It appears that the modern art I do like seems to be where artists have taken traditional methods and let them flow and change, rather than those where the artist has rejected the traditional forms.
It was also interesting seeing the gallery of Soviet posters, both from immediately after the 1917 revolution and also as Stalin enforced his power. I am clearly part of the great proletariat, because they seemed far more relevant to me than a lot of the other art on show. Finally, there was one exhibit which required darkness to appreciate it, so there was a short passageway that progressively got darker as you headed towards the middle – a bit like a maze, but only one route. The first time I walked down it by the time I reached the central part I was almost unable to walk any further, because I could feel my mind saying stop and I had to force myself to keep walking. I came back out, acclimatised myself to the light and went back in, but this time, knowing what was coming and keeping one hand against the partition there was no problem. The exhibit in the centre wasn’t of interest, but making my way in was an experience.
