Wow! I wish I had seen the first of their shows so that I could recommend every single person I know go and see this performance. This was amazing theatre. Bear with me, because I was sceptical when I heard the premise.
Six hours of Shakespeare plays back to back to back without intermission. In order of performance they played: Coriolanus, Julius Caeser and Antony and Cleopatra. Only short breaks for set changes. All in Dutch with surtitles.
There were interesting ideas that I was aware of with this performance. During the show, the audience would be encouraged to go on stage and sit on parts of the set to view. Food and drinks were served on stage. The show was broadcast live throughout the Festival Theatre so if drinks were being purchased, the audience would not miss out on anything. The crowd was encouraged to take photos and tweet during the performance and they showed some of the tweets during set change.
During a harrowing moment for Cleopatra she approached and hugged an audience member on the stage, stood back and pleaded with her in Dutch while the person sitting next to the nodding recipient of this plea took a photo with a smart phone. I cannot remember Cleopatra's line because it was a moment that transcended the need for understanding. What was more important was the interaction and the reactions.
14 actors played the parts of the 36 characters used in the three obviously truncated plays. The costumes were modernised and video and 'news' broadcasts were part of it all. Televisions on set played continuous news footage or Winter Olympics highlights if they werent simulcasting the play. The entire auditorium was utilised. In one particularly spectacular death, the death of Enobarbus in Antony and Cleopatra, the scene even spilled out further as he ran out of the theatre and the building with cameraman in toe, onto King William Road. Here was a man in his death throes, shirt open and partly off soliloquising in Dutch and being filmed throwing himself on the footpath and making as if to cross the road into traffic while pedestrians walked on and cyclists rode by. (It brought to mind Grant Hackett's and Ian Thorpe's difficulties that had happened so recently.)
The actors not involved in the scenes were eating and drinking on the stage with the audience. And what made the show so engaging, I think, was that it highlighted the beauty of Shakespere's poetry without the ancient language that makes it so difficult to wade through his work in the current age. By translating the text into Dutch and back into modern English the plays were stripped of their effort to comprehend the words and language and I could simply enjoy the meaning and the stories and the performances.
My highlights were the performance, and beard, of Roeland Fernhout as Brutus, the speech of Mark Antony by Hans Kesting during Julius Caesar (But Brutus says he was ambitious and Brutus in an honourable man...), and everyone's intensity in the closing moments of Antony and Cleopatra but particluarly that of Chris Nietvelt as Cleopatra. I had never envisaged the licentious and even homoerotically-charged possibilities of Antony and Cleopatra but the cast did turn on a magificently hedonistic performance.
And a huge shout out to the staff who provided drinks and food on set to whispering patrons who were concentrating on reading subtitles instead of handing over the correct denominations with which to pay for their order.
I have attached a link to the company's website and I will be checking in to see if and when they will be coming to Adelaide, or indeed Australia, next. http://www.tga.nl/en
So, as an exclusive to The Adealide Festival, we got a ripper night of Shakespeare in avant garde style with audience participation and innocent bystanders weaved in.
Tuesday 4 March 2014
Commuting in a police chase
Scene setting: 50 kilometres just clicked over on the bike computer's tacometer and on an upward slope (2-3% according to the computer) and only three kilometres from work. It has been an early morning and a hard ride. Good for the lungs and good for the heart but legs are feeling heavy.
I ride towards the next roundabout where I will turn left and head up a 3-4% slope to North-East Road and then reach the flat finish to work. A car is parked inconveniently short of the roundabout meaning I will have to go around and then duck back to the left while looking right for cars to give way to. There are almost never cars to give way to in this street. I am still annoyed.
A 4-wheeled drive passes me and heads to the roundabout and stops next to the parked car. I slow down, noticing enough room to go between but wary that the driver may not have seen me. I sense it would be somewhat uncomfortable to be wedged in between car and SUV on a bicycle.
I slow but maintain my balance. The driver of the Land Cruiser appears to let me through and I go in between the two vehicles. A person is in the passenger seat of the parked car. More annoying for having decided to park there when he could have stopped earlier. Probably checking his smart phone for unimportant text messages or playing Angry Candy. I get to the roundabout and dont need to give way. I get out of the saddle for the last part of the slope.
And there is screeching behind me and I turn my head to see the 4WD tearing along the street at my rear. The parked car is pursuing. I stay as far left as I can without getting caught up in the gutter and they pass with plenty of room and I keep cycling and three marked police cars emerge from sidestreets like poltergeists. Another two unmarked cars with attachable lights converge on the 4WD.
My legs are burning with the effort of trying to get out of there as quickly as possible, but after over fifty ks they dont have in them what they used to. Also after 50 ks my brain doesnt work as it should. I could have stopped and turned around and gone a block further along and stayed well away from this mess.
But the chase ends and the 4WD pulls over and the police cars stop. I am coming up to them, slowing not to stickybeak but because this is where I turn off and I am looking for traffic. The occupants of the Land Cruiser flee the vehicle and run into the house they parked in front of. Through the front door. Ten (maybe twelve) police exit their vehicles and run to the door and start shouting that they are coming in and my need to accelerate becomes painfully and burningly obvious. Again my legs try but cannot get me out of there fast enough for my liking as I imagine a shoot out and bullets flying and I wonder if my helmet is bullet proof.
And I still have been unable to find out why a police chase happened a month ago on the streets of Collinswood.
I ride towards the next roundabout where I will turn left and head up a 3-4% slope to North-East Road and then reach the flat finish to work. A car is parked inconveniently short of the roundabout meaning I will have to go around and then duck back to the left while looking right for cars to give way to. There are almost never cars to give way to in this street. I am still annoyed.
A 4-wheeled drive passes me and heads to the roundabout and stops next to the parked car. I slow down, noticing enough room to go between but wary that the driver may not have seen me. I sense it would be somewhat uncomfortable to be wedged in between car and SUV on a bicycle.
I slow but maintain my balance. The driver of the Land Cruiser appears to let me through and I go in between the two vehicles. A person is in the passenger seat of the parked car. More annoying for having decided to park there when he could have stopped earlier. Probably checking his smart phone for unimportant text messages or playing Angry Candy. I get to the roundabout and dont need to give way. I get out of the saddle for the last part of the slope.
And there is screeching behind me and I turn my head to see the 4WD tearing along the street at my rear. The parked car is pursuing. I stay as far left as I can without getting caught up in the gutter and they pass with plenty of room and I keep cycling and three marked police cars emerge from sidestreets like poltergeists. Another two unmarked cars with attachable lights converge on the 4WD.
My legs are burning with the effort of trying to get out of there as quickly as possible, but after over fifty ks they dont have in them what they used to. Also after 50 ks my brain doesnt work as it should. I could have stopped and turned around and gone a block further along and stayed well away from this mess.
But the chase ends and the 4WD pulls over and the police cars stop. I am coming up to them, slowing not to stickybeak but because this is where I turn off and I am looking for traffic. The occupants of the Land Cruiser flee the vehicle and run into the house they parked in front of. Through the front door. Ten (maybe twelve) police exit their vehicles and run to the door and start shouting that they are coming in and my need to accelerate becomes painfully and burningly obvious. Again my legs try but cannot get me out of there fast enough for my liking as I imagine a shoot out and bullets flying and I wonder if my helmet is bullet proof.
And I still have been unable to find out why a police chase happened a month ago on the streets of Collinswood.
Thursday 30 January 2014
Child Philosophy
Mummy blogging time again.
My children have been responsible for two wonderfully simple and humbling pieces of philoophy.
When they were two and both were in cots, one of our children woke in the morning and decided that a bit of faecal smearing on the pillow was a good idea. And for all I know, it may be. Never tried it myself. The other child, also awake and standing against the cot railing, said:
You shouldnt poo on your pillow.
If that isnt a title of a philosophy book, I dont know what is.
Then, only recently, another of our children was being very brave while I hacked out a splinter from her foot. I'm sure I was as delicate as a thirsty man digging for water in a rocky desert. After it came out, I showed her its size and she asked:
Why is life so full of splinters?
Now that is a metaphor for existence.
Tom
My children have been responsible for two wonderfully simple and humbling pieces of philoophy.
When they were two and both were in cots, one of our children woke in the morning and decided that a bit of faecal smearing on the pillow was a good idea. And for all I know, it may be. Never tried it myself. The other child, also awake and standing against the cot railing, said:
You shouldnt poo on your pillow.
If that isnt a title of a philosophy book, I dont know what is.
Then, only recently, another of our children was being very brave while I hacked out a splinter from her foot. I'm sure I was as delicate as a thirsty man digging for water in a rocky desert. After it came out, I showed her its size and she asked:
Why is life so full of splinters?
Now that is a metaphor for existence.
Tom
Saturday 18 January 2014
My favourite music
My cherished songs are not listed in a top ten or twenty or thirty. They are listed according to mood.
When happy or pleased or content, I need no songs
When despondant: Radiohead's I Want None of This
When angry and aggresive: Tomahawk's God Hates a Coward
When aggressively poetic: The Mars Volta's Miranda That Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore: D. Con Safo
When abandoned by existence: Radiohead's Jigsaw Falling into Place
When desperate: Tomahawk's Narcosis
When politically angry: The Drones' Jezebel
When joyfully despondant: Tomahawk's Sun Dance
When unmotivated: The Drones' Why Write a Letter that you'll Never Send
When uncommunicative: Live's White, Discussion
When nihilistic: Pixies' Where is my Mind
When alone: Peeping Tom's We're Not Alone
When self-destructive: The Future of the Left's Small Bones, Small Bodies
When obsessive: Massive Attack's Angel
When worthless: Radiohead's Videotape
When worthless and hopeless: Radiohead's Reckoner
Tom
When happy or pleased or content, I need no songs
When despondant: Radiohead's I Want None of This
When angry and aggresive: Tomahawk's God Hates a Coward
When aggressively poetic: The Mars Volta's Miranda That Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore: D. Con Safo
When abandoned by existence: Radiohead's Jigsaw Falling into Place
When foolhardy: Ween's Dont shit where you eat
When empowered: TZU's The Horse You Rode in OnWhen desperate: Tomahawk's Narcosis
When politically angry: The Drones' Jezebel
When joyfully despondant: Tomahawk's Sun Dance
When unmotivated: The Drones' Why Write a Letter that you'll Never Send
When uncommunicative: Live's White, Discussion
When nihilistic: Pixies' Where is my Mind
When alone: Peeping Tom's We're Not Alone
When self-destructive: The Future of the Left's Small Bones, Small Bodies
When obsessive: Massive Attack's Angel
When worthless: Radiohead's Videotape
When worthless and hopeless: Radiohead's Reckoner
Tom
Lightning
I find lightning storms alluring. The camera flashes in the sky with more power then any mining technology or explosive technician can harness. A forked purple thread snaking from the sky seeking you out to strike you down for no other reason than you were the tallest poppy in the field. There are advantages to being a small poppy.
And I am aware of the danger of lightning. Risk of major fires and electrocution and property damage. But I find it wonderful to feel so powerless. So meek in the face of the random lightshow published by our planet and guided by physics. Clouds so big and dark and thick that you know there's lightning in there but only because of the glow of purple like a luminescent and transient oedema.
I know that owing to the storm there are now people risking their lives to save properties and bushland from inferno. I care about them. And I also am allowed to marvel at this force. My enjoyment of it is not linked to its proliferation. Only in a fairytale where some omnipotent figure answers my prayers can that be true. It is random and all the more enjoyable because of it. It might be tomorrow or next week or next decade that I witness its like again.
I look forward to it.
Tom
And I am aware of the danger of lightning. Risk of major fires and electrocution and property damage. But I find it wonderful to feel so powerless. So meek in the face of the random lightshow published by our planet and guided by physics. Clouds so big and dark and thick that you know there's lightning in there but only because of the glow of purple like a luminescent and transient oedema.
I know that owing to the storm there are now people risking their lives to save properties and bushland from inferno. I care about them. And I also am allowed to marvel at this force. My enjoyment of it is not linked to its proliferation. Only in a fairytale where some omnipotent figure answers my prayers can that be true. It is random and all the more enjoyable because of it. It might be tomorrow or next week or next decade that I witness its like again.
I look forward to it.
Tom
Wednesday 1 January 2014
Fuck the fireworks
Why are humans still impressed with fireworks?
If we all stopped visiting fireworks displays and watching them on television we would have significantly more money to spend on roads and health and education and community gardens. You know, things that actually have a significant impact on our lives.
Fireworks are a primary school boys' toilet. All the junior males are trying to piss higher and higher up the wall. And what is the outcome? Someone not pissing at the time has to judge who had the highest urine stream.
Next year, whenever fireworks are on, boycott the telecast and dont crowd at the sites.
Wont take long for councils and state governments and federal governments to get the message that it is just a peacock tailfeather display that wont result in successful offspring but rather drained budgets.
Tom
If we all stopped visiting fireworks displays and watching them on television we would have significantly more money to spend on roads and health and education and community gardens. You know, things that actually have a significant impact on our lives.
Fireworks are a primary school boys' toilet. All the junior males are trying to piss higher and higher up the wall. And what is the outcome? Someone not pissing at the time has to judge who had the highest urine stream.
Next year, whenever fireworks are on, boycott the telecast and dont crowd at the sites.
Wont take long for councils and state governments and federal governments to get the message that it is just a peacock tailfeather display that wont result in successful offspring but rather drained budgets.
Tom
Michael Schumacher
I dont think it is a tragedy that Michael Schumacher is in a coma with a significant brain injury.
I think it was an accident made more likely by his choice of hobby. After more than fifteen years driving the most high-performance automobiles in the world he suffered a significant head injury skiing whilst on holiday.
I admired his ability when he was the best F1 driver on the planet. Used to watch him drive around every Sunday the races were on with dodgily purchased tequila and vodka and two or three mates. His ability shone through in an industry when automotons thrived. He was the most efficient of the most efficient.
For the sake of his family I hope he pulls through with negligible residual effects from the injury.
Tom
I think it was an accident made more likely by his choice of hobby. After more than fifteen years driving the most high-performance automobiles in the world he suffered a significant head injury skiing whilst on holiday.
I admired his ability when he was the best F1 driver on the planet. Used to watch him drive around every Sunday the races were on with dodgily purchased tequila and vodka and two or three mates. His ability shone through in an industry when automotons thrived. He was the most efficient of the most efficient.
For the sake of his family I hope he pulls through with negligible residual effects from the injury.
Tom
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