Friday, February 13, 2015

Running away to the circus...

As per usual, I must follow the call of the circus boys. Or, rather, boy. Or, rather, Peter. Well, technically, he didn't call me, he has no time for that, I found out he was performing in England while on a Skype call to Anandamayi in California where he has been staying...yes yes, hush. The circus calls!

You may remember Peter from my frequent FB posts about his new show in development, BOOM! (which is a collaboration with another beloved circus boy, David). Or you might remember that Peter is one third of the circus boys from my Parisienne blogging weekend in early December, while they were all studying Wutao and developing BOOM! in their off-hours. The show just closed a killer kickstarter so keep an eye out for them. It's going to be incredible, I'm sure.

Anyway, Peter is performing his internationally beloved solo show at Showzam in Blackpool, I am on a train, zipping north across the English plains, and I'll be there for the first show of his run tomorrow.


Friday, February 06, 2015

I feel strangely vindicated

I was about twenty feet from Tom Stoppard, when he was asked why, as Britains greatest living playwright, he waited nine years to write and premier his most recent play. His answer was long, smart, hilarious, and charming, and in the end he said "I didn't wait. I procrastinated." 

He was wearing burgundy and cream striped socks, he fessed up to procrastinating, and he wrote Arcadia. 

I'm done.

No, really, I'm not done. I'm on the bus now, en route to see Theatre de la Ville-Paris' touring production of Six Characters in Search of an Author. T'will be me first time seeing Pirandello staged, and a free ticket to boot. Le score.

Of course, I've only just left the Stoppard talk at the National, where I had a front-row-dead-center seat listening to Tom-motherloving-Stoppard, plus the endlessly delightful company of Alona Bach, with whom I shared a delicious post-talk Punschrulle and a pretty decent Plentille. Just sayin': the Frenchies will definitely have to pull out all the stops if they want to snag the "highlight of my evening" title. 

But, I mean, word on the street is they are badasses, so who knows.

Go Frenchies go.