Saturday, December 02, 2006

Opening night

The Yo Beowulf opening night was a triumph, assisted no end by some glowing reviews:

'One of the most moving productions I have had the pleasure to critique in all my years in theatre.'

'The puppets moved with a poignant vulnerability.'

'Although a good 20 minutes too long, the four and a half hour production was utterly engaging.'

'Enchanting, entrancing, enriching…I am a better man for this production.'

There were 3 less complimentary:

'It lacked the intensity of earlier works such as 'Strindberg On Trapeze.'

'An exercise in utter pretension.'

'The biggest pile of doggy doo-doo I have had the misfortune to witness.' (Cave Spooner) (oh dear)

And one of particular note:

'Special praise must go to thumb #46 in battle no.12 which had such flair, not witnessed in shadow puppetry before.'

Ludo Jansdotter missed the show but turned up at the after-show party at the Bungalow Club. There was a slightly awkward moment when Nancy (who is so self-absorbed she had somehow missed the fact that we are having a dalliance) promptly threw herself at him, much to my and her boyfriend Pedro’s chagrin.

Rolf+Margot were there with their twin dogs Gilbert+George. Margot has had her fringe cut far too short and now resembles Emo Philips circa 1985. They congratulated me on Sofia Coppola. I congratulated them on Nicky Hilton. (Hee-hee)
It's so childish but I secretly enjoy this petty competition.

Pfeiffer Braun took to the stage in an impromptu jazz flute performance, joined by Pedro on bongos and Celine, Agnes and Etienne on vocals. Then Nancy got very drunk, jumped on the stage and proceeded to sing REO Speedwagon’s entire back catalogue.
Loretta spent the evening in a smoky corner rehearsing her speech which she 'performed' at the end of the night using a combination of mime and interpretative dance .

Then, in the morning, Ludo Jansdotter accidentally put on my new boyfriend jeans and left the house in them. I suppose he took the name a bit too literally. Let's thank our lucky stars it wasn’t my Sass and Bide skinnys.

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