Paul in London

Woman 1: Aaah know you know her! Woman 2: Well I do and she's like you and me... Woman 1: She is? Woman 2: Yes she's a little bit german a little bit Flemish a little bit Scandinavian Woman 1: And her husband? Woman 2: Well she's divorced you know... Woman 1: Aw such a shame...

I was really in the mood for watching Theatre of Horror at the Southwark Playhouse Thursday evening. Maybe it was the skin biopsy I had a lunchtime that put me in the mood. There I was, watching chunks of flesh being taken out of me and put into little jars, blood dripping down my leg and feeling the stitches forcing it all back together. At one point the doctor said, "Oh you turned your head at just the right time," as I watched a little slice of me going in a jar. The shows were tame compared to all that, but still in the same vein. The first piece, "The Exclusion Zone" started off incredibly disturbing about a young couple wanting to have some fun in the woods. It was a nice ride until the end song, which was inaudible and hard to understand the connection to the previous twenty minutes. The second piece "The Unimaginable" was a slightly creepy monologue about people who swipe your children. After mentioning parents who go out to the theatre and le

Crime in London  may be on the decline, but occasionally it does come and remind you its still there.  Over the past weekend someone got into my flat via a suspected unsecured bathroom window and helped themselves to a five year old iPod. I wonder if they will enjoy the over-representation of musical theatre and funky house tracks on it, but who knows. There is also the slight sense of humiliation you feel when burglars have determined the only thing you have worth stealing is a five year old iPod, but that's probably something I can discuss when the victims of crime unit gets in touch. I always believed that you would know when you were burgled as you would come home and see clothes thrown around, drawers left open, things upended. That is also a bit like what my flatmate's room looks like on a good day but I digress. But returning home on Monday evening I at first did not see anything out of the unusual. Except for the toiletries bag with my electric shaver open on the bed.

Continuing a season of performers in their prime that have seen Wonder Woman and others grace the West End, it could also be known as "Old broads at the Garrick", I caught the second night of Caroline O'Connor with Johnnyfox and others. Caroline O'Connor, while being world famous in Australia, has also been in a number of West End productions, including the ENO's production of On the Town and Bombshells. This time around it is her on stage with a terrific band and some real nice young dancers. Its a bit cabaret and a bit performance and all brass  class. I realised it has now been ten years since I first saw Caroline O'Connor and she doesn't seem to have changed much at all... She still looks and moves pretty well and still sounds good (if you overlook those occasionally suspect high notes), and is full of such energy and life you can't help but enjoy watching her perform. In the first half of her show she talked about life growing up in Australi

A three hour baroque opera on a Saturday night is probably not going to be everyone's cup of tea. I am not a fan of the baroque period of music with all those intricate melodies that go on and on and on... And then repeat... So bearing in mind these narrow-minded preconceived notions, it is somewhat surprising to find how enjoyable it is to sit through  Niobe, Regina di Tebe . There is some fine singing by Véronique Gens in the title role and male soprano Jacek Laszczkowski as the King of Thebes. And it is quite a surprise to hear him sing too. I also enjoyed the slightly comic / malevolent performance by Alastair Miles, who wore a most intriguing costume and gave the production relief and drama. Actually there was enough drama and intrigue in the opera to keep anyone alert and attentive. In the orchestra pit was the Balthasar Neumann Ensemble and they sounded great and even by Royal Opera's usual standards of production design (although  Don Pasquale  might be an exception

Listen! Listen!

I suddenly had the urge to eat a huge roast chicken. Can't quite work out what came over me... Posted via email from paulinlondon's posterous

Donizetti's Don Pasquale at the Royal Opera was a nice way to spend a Sunday evening. Not good or bad but nice. There was nothing terribly engaging about the performances, and in the first act it was a struggle to hear anything much from the cast. Later we were informed that one of the cast members was having problems but would persevere for us all. But the opera is witty and the story around an old man who marries to spite his nephew moves briskly through its three acts and comes with some laughs. Particularly exciting was watching conductor Evelino Pidò conduct the opera chorus in the third act, which was a performance in itself. Jonathan Miller's 2001 production still looks fair enough, although its doll's house set design manages to distract one's attention and is possibly the reason for the poor quality sound. On the other hand you do get a better view of the cast than you would normally sitting in the amphitheatre... It runs through September and worth catching

Stephen Sondheim's Passion has started previewing at the Donmar as part of the Sondheim at 80 season... This dark story about a young officer drawn towards a sick unhealthy woman is less musical and more melodrama set to a lush romantic score, with a bit of crazy thrown. The musical motifs repeat and repeat to a dizzying point and if you let yourself accept the basic premise of the show you're in for a hell of a ride. I have always liked this show in which the central message seems to be long distance relationships don't work, no matter how well written the letters are. Sondheim's music and lyrics are more natural here and grounded in realism, including told through a series of epistolary songs that repeat and alter. And if it this production is this good on the first night, it can only get better. The show opens with Scarlett Strallen as Clara and David Thaxton as Giorgio in their underwear doing gymnastic gyrations on an unmade bed. Amongst all this they manag

A little bit of muscle and a big bang... Posted via email from paulinlondon's posterous