Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre again, this time to take in their Twelfth Night. I saw their Richard III when I was still at university and even then it really struck me. They put on a good show there, and employ embodied actors. The company was muscular and clear in their delivery. It was a lovely show to be able to see and a better night than many on which to see it.
Some wonderful actor-singing. Some lovely clear decisions and fun choices. Plenty of truth and plenty of joy – the cocktail for a good Shakespeare. It’s one of the ones I know backwards and forwards and inside out now, Twelfth Night. My surprises come in choices made. I had plenty of surprises. The time zipped by.
Lou was with me. She often makes for the designer. She had come up in the afternoon. It’s rare to catch her in London but there she was. Lunch at mine and then over to the park for the show. The flowers are in bloom up there – all sorts of roses poking out and big purple alliums like magic wands covered in bees. The desperation of nature in London at springtime.
And it’s a full moon tonight – huge in the sky as we drove back down to Brighton. Sagittarius, red and warm, fire to kindle new enterprises. The foxes are all running the streets and howling. Here now in Spring at last despite the weather, new things are popping up, change is gonna come, things can only get better. A summer at last, perhaps. Before I get down to some Shakespeare.
Lovely to catch an old standard under the lights in the park. It’s such a well appointed place, that theatre. I’ve long wanted to work there – even wrote them all the letters back when I was young and thought that my earnest and mawkish letters might make a positive difference. Now a quick night with lovely Lou in the full moon by the sea, and then I’ll be a bit of a yo-yo to London and back to make the most of Lou before her work takes over.
Bedtime now though, just as the foxes are waking up into the blossom moon.
AlBarclay 