9pm and I’m standing outside the RST. I’m looking rather winsomely at the door that was mine until quite recently. I’m walking down the little bits of embankment that were my daily constitutionals.
It hadn’t occurred to me that it would be odd to be here in this building so soon after Othello and not to be about to do some work. I’m watching Rhys. Like Lodo, Sebastian is backloaded so he’s having to keep himself tight. Something went tits up in the audience today near me. They’ve kept to the usual interval but now they are keeping all of us out of the auditorium and quietly rolling in stretchers. I think she’s okay. But this is a big old theatre. Things happen. They have to respond. The interval is much longer than it ought to be, and everyone has to be in the foyer while this lady turns into a crab. I can wait. I’m enjoying the show.
Twelfth Night. I’ve seen it more than dream, been in it more than dream. Malvolio forever, always too young. Then recently Belch and Antonio. Arguably better casting.
It’s a tight show, as must be expected with this company. It’s the RSC. I’m part of this year’s company. We aren’t fucking about.
Ok the lady has been wheeled away on a stretcher so we can go back in now. I hope she’s okay. Well done to Viola and Orsino, playing that gorgeous intimate scene “and so they are alas that they are so, to die even when they to perfection grow”. Considering I could preserve this show in an apocalypse, I’m enjoying the telling. There’s JAZZ in the flow of it. Friends in the weave of it.
I’m happy to be here, on a company comp as I was organised and booked it when I was still in possession of my magic RSC staff pass. I’ll be back on the same basis for Hamlet. I bought loads of tickets for friends to come to Othello and one of them is still angry with me for being hard to pin down. I’d sooner avoid bothering my friends if I can help it.
They’re gonna start the second half.
I went in, loved it. Bed now. trying to title this is more or less the extent of my capacity. xx zz etc
AlBarclay 