The Tragedy of Thomas Hobbes, Adriano Shapiro November 23, 2008
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Reviews , add a commentThe revolution in thought in the mid to late seventeenth century, where the supremacy of pure reason was challenged as the sole method of finding out about the world, and gave way to empiricism and experimentation, must have been an exciting time to live. Is the tragedy of Thomas Hobbes his own personal downfall, from tutor to Charles II to outcast, or is it the way in which he lost his intellectual battle with the Royal Society?
This RSC production spends far less time on Hobbes than you’d expect from the title, with Boyle, Hooke and other famous early members of the Society crowding in to present a rich stew of ideas. We have Hooke’s and Boyle’s experiments with vacuums, long speeches about the merits of Facts, and of pure reason, an extended, stylised movement piece on the infighting in the Royal Society (which could certainly be shortened), all against a backdrop of the restoration, and the Great Fire. Perhaps it is the tragedy of Robert Hooke, who starts out as a likely lad, building apparatus for Boyle, becomes the leading light of the Society and plans the reconstruction of London, before his massive ego leads to a fallout with his colleagues.
The cast is the RSC’s other ensemble this year, doing this play, The Taming of the Shrew and The Merchant of Venice. James Garnon and Angus Wright stand out as actors and servants, and I’ll be keeping an eye on Jack Laksey who was very convincing as Hooke. The characters are all male though Boyle is played by Amanda Hadingue. She is fine, but the script demands this for a reason that escapes me.
The Tragedy of Thomas Hobbes plays at Wilton’s Music Hall, just off Cable St in the East End. This partly restored Victorian music hall is full of faded glory and friendly atmosphere, helped by a cafe serving good, light pre-theatre meals. If you’re hesitant about the play, its worthwhile seeing the place. This runs until December 6.
How to give a cat insulin injections November 17, 2008
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Miscellany , 1 comment so farA few weeks ago, my wee cat Thelma was diagnosed with diabetes. So far, she’s fine, so long as I keep giving her daily insulin injections. A few friends are being kind enough to be shown how to do it in case I need to call on them, and have asked for explicit instructions. I was quite worried when told I’d need to do this, so by explaining how simple it is, this post might put some other minds at rest. But do make sure you get advice from your vet if you’re in this situation – your cat may be different.
The insulin is kept in the fridge. Its in a small bottle with the nail varnishes – the small, clear bottle, NOT the green and red ones with brushes. Rotate the bottle gently to make sure the insulin is spread evenly through the liquid. It should be a cloudy suspension.
Take a hypodermic, remove the caps at top and bottom, and insert the needle into the rubber circle over the top of the bottle. Holding the bottle above the needle like they do in movies and draw down the dose (5 iu as at May 2009, but this might change, so check on the bottle).
Find Thelma, and hold her somewhere comfortable for both of you, perhaps on your lap, or sit beside her on the bed. Take a fold of skin at her shoulder or hip, and gently but firmly insert the needle before pushing the plunger. The needle is very small and very sharp, so if you’re confident and have a steady hand, she will barely notice. Remove the needle, and gently stroke the area to help circulation.
It’s much, much easier than giving a cat a pill, and not difficult unless you’re nervous of needles.
Make sure she gets each dose between 22.5 and 25.5 hours after the previous one (ie. 90 minutes either way, each day). Write the date and time on the sheet on the boiler.
Hypodermics can be reused 2 or 3 times. When one is finished, put it into the bottle with the other old ones, not the bin (that’s illegal and very unsafe for the binmen).
If you prick yourself, don’t push the plunger. If you do push the plunger, call a doctor or the NHS helpline immediately. It’s not likely to be damaging because its a very small dose, but it isn’t a good thing.
Oedipus November 16, 2008
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Reviews , add a commentI woke up yesterday morning, feeling a cold starting. Ignoring it, I checked the National Theatre’s site for returns for Oedipus, which is sold out but I was keen to see. Apollo was on my side, and I got a seat for the matinee just as Hygeia decided to have a go and the cold set in. Full of sudafed and feeling very sorry for myself (but at least not coughing and spluttering) I headed down the road to the theatre.
The story is well-known. Oedipus, King of Thebes (played by Ralph Fiennes), discovers that he has murdered his father and married his mother in unwitting fulfilment of a prophecy made at his birth. Freud thought it represented a common male fantasy, and Tom Lehrer had great fun with it.
Reviews of this have been mixed. As with most Greek drama, is very wordy, with events explained more than they are shown. Fiennes himself is almost unbearable to watch at times, so intense is the tragedy, but Clare Higgins as Jocasta is the one who really seems to get to the heart of it and draw the audience in As Oedipus works out what has happened, she sits silently, the truth slowly dawning, shaking in horror. The chorus of middle-aged, besuited men is a little odd and occasionally seems more church choir than Greek chorus.
The set is a large, bronzed dome, with huge doors at the back and a long wooden table. The doors move round through about 90 degrees and back during the performance, perhaps trying to illustrate a day. Behind and on either side of the doors, trees are occasionally revealed and also used as an entrance. The leaves fade from full summer to deepest winter as the tragedy unfolds.
Seat H26 in the stalls was perfect. Oedipus runs until 4 Jan, returns only.
The problem with trying to blog every day November 4, 2008
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Miscellany , 2 commentsIs that some days, you just have nothing to say.
Where did my degree go? November 3, 2008
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Miscellany , 1 comment so farAbout twenty years ago, I somehow managed to get a degree in maths. I was slightly surprised at the time, and can only assume my tutors had drunk even more than I. It’s not even a particularly bad degree, though well and truly propped up by a computer science minor. I’ve never really used it, but always assumed that, like schoolgirl French or bicycle riding, it would return if I ever happened to need it.
Today I found myself sitting in Blackwells bookshop looking at a differential equation and very concerned to realise that it meant almost nothing to me. You may well ask why I didn’t just find another book, and that’s a good question. I’ve enrolled in a course about wind power, at the Centre for Alternative Technology in Wales, and they say the absolute minimum prerequisite is A level maths and physics, which I blithely told them that would be fine.
This is one of my regular forays into finding a better way of earning a living than corporate IT project management, and my idea of how to save the planet from impending climate doom. I suspect its going to be a long, dark winter. I bought the book. I refuse to get a bicycle.
Love’s Labour’s Lost November 2, 2008
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Reviews , 2 commentsIn the Q&A session after the show, the cast talked about this being a difficult play to read, and so not done very often. It doesn’t have much plot, and most of the humour is in obtuse Elizabethan puns, so it’s a fair choice as the third, short-run play of the season. It’s a sellout, but that can only be because of David Tennant’s unfailing ability to attract bums to seats. Having said that, this bum had a very good evening, and the rest of the audience seemed to be doing so too.
What plot there is, is very simple. The King of Navarre and his courtiers (above) swear to study for three years, forsaking women, good eating and even a decent nights sleep for the sake of learning. This has barely started when the Princess of France and her ladies show up, with inevitable consequences.
The play is truly an ensemble piece, and the cast do a brilliant job of turning this difficult play into something very funny and accessible. Although Berowne (Tennant) has twice as many lines as anyone else, they are concentrated into more long speeches. If there is a star, it could as easily be the hilarious Spanish Duke Don Adriano de Armado (Joe Dixon) all pompous strutting and atrocious accent proving that Fawlty Tower’s Manuel and ‘Allo ‘Allo have ancient precedents. Tennant is wonderful, but the entire cast made this performance worthwhile.
In one of the most obscure parts of the play, with puns on l’envoy and geese which you’d have to have read a critical edition to get, let alone find funny, Armado, his page Moth (Zoe Thorpe) and the villager Costard (Ricky Champ) break into a rap, and have the theatre in stitches. It sounds odd, but works brilliantly. As Oliver Ford Davies (Holofernes) pointed out in the Q&A afterwards, rapping helps bring out the rhythm of the verse, as well as forcing clear diction.
And yes, this has to be one of Shakespeare’s filthiest plays, knee-deep in innuendo and often smellier stuff. I doubt there was a straight bloke in the audience sitting calmly as the milkmaid Jacquenetta (Riann Steele) worked her churn. More scatological references are funny (Berowne pronouncing faces as faeces when, dressed as a Russian, he asks the ladies to reveal theirs) or really rather odd, as when Don Armado says that the King likes to run his finger through his excrement and mustache. My text suggests the word refers to facial hair as well, but I wasn’t quite sure how to take that.
One of the strong themes of the play is the cruelty, and essential emptiness of wit, and Rosaline’s final request to Berowne to use his wit to good purpose if he wants to win her is strikingly apt this week. ‘A jest’s prosperity lies in the ear of him that hears it, never in the tongue of him that makes it’ would be a useful lesson for Johnathan Ross.
You wonder really what, if anything, the women see in the men. They have failed to keep their vows, try to win the women over with clever games while also deriding them. They cannot even respect their grief when the death of the King of France is announced. The only time they seem to really respect the women is in Berowne’s speech to the other lords justifying the breaking of their vows. Tennant delivers a beautifully nuanced performance, balanced between self-serving cant and a genuine, more mature, reflection on the nature of love.
Although the set is minimal, it seems sumptuous. A huge tree dominates, and is used by Tennant to hide and watch the others. Long strings of coloured polygons give the idea of a forest park. The costumes are rich, with the men in traditional doublet and hose. In an early interview for the season, director Gregory Doran said he wouldn’t put Tennant in hose, but I’m sure a fair few female fans were grateful he did.
In all, well worth the trip to Stratford. I probably wouldn’t have bothered if it hadn’t been for Tennant, and his performance alone would have made it worthwhile, but I’m now determined to make sure I see the plays the RSC don’t bring to London.
Despite the seat being much cheaper, I had a better view than for Hamlet. In the gallery, in B55, I could see everything, though I’d prefer to be down in the stalls (but in the middle, not right at the edge). Love’s Labour’s Lost runs at the Courtyard in Stratford upon Avon until the end of November, and is a complete sellout – returns and day tickets only.
National Blog Posting Month November 1, 2008
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Miscellany , 1 comment so farOkay, I’m cheating, cos I didn’t find out about it until Monday, 3 November. But I like the idea, and will try to give it a go.
National Blog Posting Month
