A life as Everyman - Michael Frayn’s Afterlife August 17, 2008
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : London, Reviews , add a commentWhen Michael Frayn’s new play, Afterlife, opened in June, it was to mixed reviews. Using the medieval miracle play Everyman to tell the life of Max Reinhardt, the German Jew who established the Salzburg festival in the 1920s with the play as a centrepiece, is either appreciated or not.
Everyman, or Reinhardt (played by John Allam), is summoned by Death to the presence of God to be judged. He calls upon his friends to join him on the journey, but they decline. His worldly goods are no use to him. The Poor Neighbour, spurned by him early in the play, changes into Muller, the Nazi who takes over his house after Austria is occupied and Reinhardt flees to America.
The many women in Reinhart’slife are represented by two, who are Everyman’s redemption. His mistress and later second wife, Helene Thimig, played by Abigail Cruttenden is Faith, and his Deeds are represented by his secretary, Gusti Adler (Serina Griffiths).
Frayn weaves the stories of Reinhardt and Everyman together to present an impression of the character of the man more than biographical detail. He appears to have lived as if on a stage, better with an audience than making conversation in a small group, shown through the rhyming couplets and repetition of parts of the script, breaking of into ordinary prose when events are more mundane. As he rehearses his household staff for a banquet, you see the Reinhardt who was notorious for directing every last detail of a play, down to the actors gestures and tone.
The sets are spectacularly simple. Most of the play is set either on the steps of Salzburg Cathedral, where Everyman is performed, or in Leopoldskron, the baroque palace which Reinhardt and Thimig restored and which he believed would be his most lasting legacy. Each is represented by huge, white frontages which move back and forward as the scene changes and imply grandeur.
In the end, Reinhardt’s real legacy is the annual production of Everyman, which continues this summer in Salzburg, and so this play grasps the significance of the man. It is clever and polished, like Reinhardt himself.
It is on at the National Theatre until 30 August, and well worth seeing.
Seeing King Tut November 13, 2007
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : London , add a commentMary Beard, my favourite academic blogger, has a piece today about the Tutankhamun exhibition which opens shortly at the Dome. I hadn’t been planning to see it - I saw a smaller version in Auckland years ago, and the full thing at the Egyptian Museum when I went to Cairo in 2001, but she mentions that there are many artefacts from the reign of the previous pharoah, Akhenaten, as well.
My favourite memory of the Egyptian Museum is the statues of Akhenaten, completely different from everything else, tucked away in a corner away from the standard guided tour. These huge alabaster works are completely different from everything else in the museum, with naturalistic faces and deformed bodies which may actually show how he looked.
Akhenaten was a much more interesting character than Tutankhamen, who is really only famous for having his tomb survive more or less intact. He introduced monotheism to Egypt, building on the existing creator sun-god and transferring worship from the traditional Ra-Horus to Aten, literally the ’sun-disc’. Banning other gods, and defacing or destroying their statues and temples, he attempted to centralise all worship to a single cult.
The statues I saw came from Akhetaten in Amarna, the city Aknenaten built as his religious centre, and possibly his capital. The city was built on a less formal plan than older Egyptian cities, with temples open to the air, and the sun.
Akhenaten reigned for 17 years, and although relics of his achievements survived for modern archaeologists, his city was abandoned and the old cults were restored early in the reign of his successor, the boy-king Tutankhamun.
Unlinked Sources :
Wikipedia article on Akhenaten
The Oxford History of Ancient Egypt
Another timestealer July 17, 2007
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Internet, London , add a commentI have finally succumbed and joined facebook. In fact, you might even be reading this post through facebook, because the rss feed for this is displaying on my profile. If you know me, and are on facebook, then add me as a friend. I could see that once you had a few friends and acquaintances linked in, it would be quite addictive, especially if your mates spend a fair bit of time online. This evening, I’ve had a wee chat with my friend Craig, who was playing with X servers over at the bbc, and found a few other friends on it.
Amazingly, there are 775000 people in the London network, that’s nearly 10% of the population. Mind you, a good 10% of the London population is probably down the pub right now, which is a rather better form of social networking.
Good night!
Technorati Tags: facebook, pub
Fish cooked on the banks of the Tigris June 9, 2007
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Cafes & Restaurants, London , add a commentJust had lunch with my friend Aboodi who, although one of the most British blokes I’ve ever met, was actually made in Baghdad. We went, which will not surprise those who know him, to an Iraqi restaurant in W2, by Marble Arch. Le Chef Masgouf is named for a traditional Iraqi dish, where a fish is caught, flayed and grilled on the riverbank.
We started with some tabbouleh and hummus, and deep-fried meat pastries, which were delicious, and then shared a Masgouf fish between us.
Simple, fairly cheap (about £40 for two, with no booze bill because its dry). The service was a little slow, but that’s fine when you just want to sit and chat with friends.
If there were only three restaurants in London May 28, 2007
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Cafes & Restaurants, London , 1 comment so farIf there were only three restaurants in London and one of them was Rasa, in the Vegetarian Republic of Stoke Newington, I think I’d be happy (especially if another one was Cafe Koha in Covent Garden, and I still had my two pubs).
Lindsey is newly arrived from Parts North, wild, possibly pictish lands beyond the Watford Gap, and certainly well outside the safety of the M25, so it was with some trepidation that we ventured down to Euston and caught the number 73 bus. I think she’s catching on though, as she tells me she made it back from Oxford St to her home just north of here on a C2. The 73 is not what it used to be, since the last of the friendly little routemasters was replaced by something long and bendy, but it is warmer, if not less crowded. We wended our way through Islington and Hackney to Stoke Newington Church St, and the bright pink lights of Rasa, the best South Indian restaurant in London, if not outside India.
Rasa works best with a group of at least three, so you can share dishes and have a few to choose from, and Louise joined us. We started with the poppadoms and pickles, which are very different from normal curry house ones. I had a Rasam, the spicy pepper soup which is supposed to aid digestion, but is also very tasty and as hot as Thai Tom Yum. We chose three curries. Moru Kachiathu is made of green bananas and mangoes in a yoghurt sauce spiced with chilli. This is probably my favourite, sweet but also spicy, not at all cloying and good with the lemon rice. I had a variation of Baga Baingan, an aubergine curry in yoghurt and cashew sauce, at a Hyderabadi restaurant in a posh hotel in Pune once, and this is easily as good. Finally, we had the Cheera Curry of paneer in a spinach and tomato sauce, less heavy than the other two, and still delicious.
None of these were very hot, and we had a bottle of a South African Chenin Blanc with them, which was all right, though I’m never sure that wine is really the right thing with this type of food. It is perhaps better to steer completely clear of overpowering alcohol and just drink lassis or fruit juice.
There is another Rasa restaurant across the road, the Rasa Travancore, which has meat and fish, but the one time I went there, it was disappointing. Plain Rasa is well worth the trip.
Technorati Tags: rasa, restaurant
Monteiths in the sun May 24, 2007
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : London, New Zealand , add a commentNow, as any kiwi knows, Monteiths is a wonderful brew. I first tried it when I lived in Wellington in the eighties, an ale and a stout which, along with Macs Real Ale, were the only beers I was ever all that keen on. Its a small brewery on the West Coast of the South Island and, along with pineapple lumps and proper Sanitarium marmite, I figured it was one of those nostalgic memories to enjoy on trips home or persuade friends to bring over occasionally.
When I was home a couple of years ago, I was delighted to discover their Summer Ales, clearly aimed at the female end of the market and right in their demographic with yours truly.
So imagine my pleasure when I arrived at the launch party for my latest project, at Corney and Barrow at the bottom of the Lloyd’s building, to discover a tin bath filled with the stuff. Beats Pimms any day.
Technorati Tags: monteiths
Sunday, a day for gluttony April 29, 2007
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Cafes & Restaurants, London , 2 commentsOff I wandered, down through the Bloomsbury Squares to parts south of the river and the rather wonderful Anchor and Hope, to meet up with Leanne, Crg, Aboodi and Dom for another Sunday lunch of far too much food, good wine and excellent company.
The meal started with wee nibbles - pate on bread, beautiful sweet small tomatos, a classy version of bubble and squeak and jamon - which started arriving at about 1.30, so it pays to be early. I ordered a bottle of Txacoli, in honour of a holiday I’m planning in Pais Vasco in June, and found an excellent summer wine, light, crisp and slightly crackling. Dom tells me it should be poured from a great height to aerate it, but the glasses were small and the threat of it ending up all over the tablecloth too great.
The first course was a leek and crab vinaigrette, with soft, succulent leeks and slightly tangy crab which went well with the wine.
To go with the roast, we moved onto a rich, velvety Douro to complement the rare beef and dripping potatoes. The only nod to getting our five a day was ‘grass’, a warm salad of lettuce and mint which tasted a lot better than it sounds. The food is served in big dishes on the table, for guests to help themselves, and more comes round as the plates empty. Its the kind of place where you leave just knowing you’ll have to eat again in a day or two.
We then moved on to cheese, which isn’t really my thing, and a lemon pudding which is. A small bottle of Manzillac pleased my sweet tooth, and then coffee with Armagnac finished it all off well.
This place at least ties with the Norfolk Arms as the best Sunday lunch around. The only downside was the way they were emphatic about turning up at 1.30 or else we’d lose the table, but the hors d’oeuvre were good reward for punctuality. Ignore the negative reviews in the link above. It’s just regulars trying to keep a good thing to themselves. I may have to post one myself.
Technorati Tags: Anchor and Hope, Sunday Lunch, London
What’s In a Wardrobe February 19, 2007
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : London , add a commentThere’s a small alcove in my bedroom and for the last 2 and a half years it has been filled by a rail which gives dust and cat fur an easy way to find my clothes. Its time I had a proper wardrobe.
First step, try an email to this lot, who sound rather good, and had an excellent write-up in Time Out a while ago. That writeup must have given them far more work than they needed, because they certainly weren’t interested enough to even reply to the email.
It all seemed a bit daunting, so maybe Ikea is the answer. But there’s only one design I fancy, and its not in stock. Anyway, with space being so precious in here, it needs to be a floor to ceiling creation.
Hammonds recently opened a shop in Tottenham Court Rd, so I ventured in. It all looked good and although they couldn’t give me any idea of price they did give me some nice biscuits for booking an appointment with the ‘designer’. The bloke came on Saturday to measure up and quote, but it all seemed very inflexible and they want 84% of the cost upfront. The price of just under £2000 is a lot for a small wardrobe. His unwillingness to draw me a view of the interior of the wardrobe, and taking over two hours before I had to kick him out didn’t help much either.
The chap who came this evening, from Spacemakers, seems a better bet. He was quick and efficient, and a lot easier to talk to. His price is better, and he actually had design ideas. He even did a more thorough job of measuring up the room.
In the meantime someone has suggested I try this site, which has local tradesmen and allows you to specify your job and get quotes. Customers rate suppliers and if its got enough tradespeople on it, it might just be what I’m looking for. So far, I’ve had one response, from someone just up the road who will do a bespoke job. He’s coming round to quote next week, so my fingers are crossed. Watch this space, a wardrobe may appear any time soon.
Technorati Tags: hammonds, custom furniture, spacemakers
Sunday lunch January 20, 2007
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : Cafes & Restaurants, London , 4 commentsOne of my favourite British institutions is the idea of Sunday lunch. Start at about two in the afternoon, languidly while the rest of the away over a roast, some good wine and conversation before going home to sleep it off and contemplate the week ahead. Perfection.
If you live in the megalopolis its unlikely to be a family affair, and small flats filled with busy lives mean cooking for hoards is definitely an operation to be out-sourced. Why slave over a hot oven when there are so many fabulous pubs so very close?
Over the last wee while, a small group of friends has taken to gathering in a suitable gastro-pub every few weeks. We’re evenly distributed around the edges of zone 1 (Somers Town,
Lambeth, Bayswater, Canada Water) so the centre works for everyone. So far, we’ve tried the Norfolk Arms and the Marquis of Cornwallis in Bloomsbury, as well as the White Hart down in Kennington. We’ve twice tried to get a table at the Anchor & Hope by Waterloo, but they’re either always booked or their Sunday lunch is a figment of Dom’s fantasy.
The Norfolk Arms is a clear winner for me. Spanish tapas to start, followed by organic lamb roast, with sherry and a good rioja thrown in is an excellent mix. The tumblers and teatowel napkins are quirky but better than you’d get at my place.
The Marquis of Cornwallis has only just reopened, and is more traditional, but very comfortable and laid back.
At the White Hart, the rare roast beef was an exceptional treat, and went well with a little too much of the Montepulciano d’Abruzzo.
All of these places share good food with a friendly pub ambience where its okay to stay as long as you like. The wine lists are better than ordinary pubs, there are newspapers available and they’re hardly the same beastie as the blokish place across the road from me. They are cafes but this is Britain so we call them pubs.
Technorati Tags: norfolk arms, sunday lunch
Crash of light, crush of crowd January 1, 2007
Posted by CamdenKiwi in : London , 1 comment so farAfter a meal at Tas in Great Russell St we made our way down through the growing crowds to Waterloo Bridge, to see the fireworks. The Thames was lit up to rival Oxford St, lights on the buildings, pictures of people beamed onto Shell House, and the London Eye a blaze of iridescent blue, pink, yellow, green. From Waterloo Bridge we had a side view, of a tall, thin tower of light. From Charing Cross down to Millbank, it would have been full on magnificence.
The crowds grew and grew as we waited on a very mild, dry evening for the countdown. Big Ben in the distance, and a more easily read clock on Shell House, gave the countdown.
And then the fireworks started. Bursts of star shells, colour, light everywhere. At one stage, the narrow pink light-sabre of the london eye was bathed in golden fairy dust, like being in the centre of a crowded galaxy.
It finished, and we turned to go home realising the real impact of a bridge that wide leading into narrow city streets jampacked with people. The police were playing turnstiles at the Strand end, standing to stop people going through, and then turning back to back to let some out. It took half an hour in a human gridlock to get out. Fortunately, the crowd was in that passive, happy, mildly befuddled mood that seems to be the way for these situations and so no problems.
Abandoning my outer zone friends to the joys of the Picadilly Line, I walked home.
Happy New Year!
