Thursday morning, we made our way in small groups to the V&A Museum to meet our professor at 10:15. I wasn't so psyched about waking up early for a place that's a bit of a ways, but this is a class, so we did. I didn't even know what the Museum was going to be about, so I tried to keep an open mind because the British Museum turned out to be so awesome. Unfortunately, this one didn't turn out to be so awesome. Instead of taking off to see everything, my two friends and I went to grab lunch at the cafe. Can I just say: the Coke in London is the best pop I've ever had in my life. It's not just pop - it's sparkling soft drink with vegetable extracts, no added preservatives, and no artificial flavours. WHAT? Anyways, there was a theatre gallery, in which Erica, Courtney, and I played dress up, which was absolutely hilarious.
Then the three of us went to the jewelry gallery and the painting gallery.
We also went to the stained glass gallery, which was absolutely amazing and beautiful and breathtaking. We finished in enough time to have a half an hour to sit and relax. At 1, we made our way with the group to Westminster Abbey. I didn't even know what this would be like; what it was, what we would do, etc. Turns out, Westminster is a HUGE church, where Princess Diana was married and where her funeral was held, and where we saw the tombs of Sir Isaac Newton, Darwin, Charles Dickens, Queen Elizabeth I and Mary Queen of Scots, Hayden, and many other famous people.
Unfortunately, the place is FREEZING, but still beautiful with it's Gothic arches and towers. After a brief tour, Erica and I walked around for a bit and got a bite to eat, trying to hang around until 5 so we could hear the Evening Song. But at 5 when we went, it had been rescheduled for the following evening. But we did get a good laugh. We both needed to use the lou, so I let Erica go first. When she first when in, she came back out saying the toilet had a wooden seat (sick!) but went in anyways. So I'm looking around and listening to the Evening Prayer, and I hear the toilet trying to flush. After about 60 seconds of hearing a struggling toilet that obviously would not flush, Erica came out to me doubled over laughing, as quietly as I could, and so we both tried to figure it out. We took it as a sign that it was time to leave. But by this time, we were miserable. The weather here is, and has been, absolutely freezing. I don't know if my muscles hurt from being tight from being, or from that special once-a-month visitor, or if I'm actually chilled to the bone. But whatever it is, it hurts, and this night particularly, I was in pain. So we decided to head to the flat to shower, but on the tube, realized that we didn't have time to shower and then get to the play. So we rode the entire loop of the Circle Line and got off in the theatre district. Turns out, the theatre we were going to isn't located in the theatre district, and is actually extremely close to where we were. So we got on the tube again and made our way back. We stopped at a pub to grab drinks, Erica with her Hoegaarden, me with my Strongbow. What I love about "gettin' nice" with Erica: we have our BMW time (bitch moan whine) and tell it how it is. There's something really therapeutic about it. So we hauled our butts quickly to the theatre and found our seats. The theatre: Victoria Palace. The show: Billy Elliot. If you have the chance, EVER, to see it, GO! It is by far the best show I have ever seen. The music was phenomenal, the acting was poignant, and the story was inspiring. I had a lump in my throat for the entire three hours. It's about dance, but I felt that I, and anyone for that matter, could relate because it's a story about art, and about the artist; his struggles, his denial, and his family's support, or in his case, lack there of.
*
Billy Elliot
The playwright is trying to convey the theme of being yourself, and that you have one life and doing what makes you happy, no matter who chooses to support you or not support you, you have to do what makes you happy. The show did a fabulous job of getting this point across, and this show was definitely worth doing. We had great seats for the show, but honestly, I don’t think there could’ve been a bad seat in the house. However, I couldn’t see the orchestra pit, so I thought that the music was recorded the whole time (because it was that flawless). But although the play was poignant, I didn’t feel an intimacy or closeness with the performance. The theatre was large, and seemed like a newer theatre, so the sound wasn’t great. There was too much electrical amplification, but this might be due to the fact that the acoustics of the theatre weren’t great, or that the cast included children that might not have the ability to project their voices for the whole theatre. There was plenty of legroom, so I was physically comfortable. The only distracting thing was the person beside me sat up in my view range and was curling their hair with their fingers incessantly. The structure was a traditional linear plot. I was definitely affected emotionally, as was the entire audience. When Billy and his mother (or mother’s ghost) sang to each other, I was on the verge of tears, and left the theatre with a lump in my throat. And the music and choreography of Billy’s dancing left me with a feeling of inspiration and awe. Every actor portrayed their character almost perfectly; the father made me feel uncomfortable with his anger and lack of support and Michael made me laugh with his naïve and childish ways and mannerisms. I thought that each actor had strong, successful performances, but the three performers who stood out to me were Billy, Michael, and the dance teacher. They were all successful in portraying what they needed to portray, but my favorite character was Michael. I don’t think that the actors had much control over whose performance was more dynamic versus mediocre. (Of course, they do have control over how well or not well they performed). But in this case, if one had a main role, they were the dynamic characters. The casting in the show seemed to be traditional - no odd balls sticking out. In this case, spectacle was not used to cover up flaws. When Billy rose into the hair (hanging by a line) and was spinning, it was more a metaphor for his life and him growing. It was not a mere distraction while others were doing shenanigans. I’m sure in Aristotle’s time, he was correct about spectacle, but in 2010, there are things called lighting and drop curtains, and spectacle doesn’t need to be used to distract the audience from seeing flaws. Shows nowadays aren’t magic shows, they’re performances. I thought the scenery and music design was most impactful. The scenery was realistic and detailed enough to look believable, but not overwhelming. The music, more the lyrics than the actual instrumental accompaniment, impacted me the most, making the show more of a tearjerker than I expected. However, the choreography was absolutely brilliant, with Michael’s dances evoking laughter and comedic relief, and Billy’s inspiring and absolutely stunning routines. I couldn’t believe such a young person could dance like that. It made me question, is someone groomed for a role like that, or do they show up at a casting call and fit the role and then learn to do that? I also liked the costume design. The dance teachers hair, makeup, and costume design were all fabulous and stylish. But I did think that sound design was done poorly, and was way too loud for my overall enjoyment. The design of the production most definitely supported the meaning and intent of the play, but if more had been added, it would have started to take away from the actual performance. I thought things were nicely done, and just enough was done. The one thing that impacted me about the play was the love that was shared during Billy’s songs with his mother. It was so nice to see that he had a fan, even though she wasn’t even alive.
*
After the show, everyone was exhausted. Erica and I tried to walk quickly. We made it to the tube, and the two piercing pains in my belly that seemed to shoot from my front to my back, had me doubled over in the tube station. Luckily, we made it home, and turns out, a little ibuprofen and a Hershey's bar is a cure-all. Although I was tired, I stayed up to get to talk to my Bradders for the first time since I've been here. (Completely worth it, by the way). Then it was off to bed.
Friday:
Another early morning. We had to travel Westminster again to meet the group. We were taking an hour-long river cruise from Westminster to Greenwich (pronounced by the Brits as "green itch").
It was still freezing, but I discovered on the cruise that putting gloves on your feet can actually be warmer than wearing shoes. We saw a couple cool things down the river, like The Globe Theatre and the London Bridge (that's a replica as the real one is supposedly in a museum in Texas). At Greenwich, we walked through a park, up a huge hill (Hey Brad, you know your driveway? It's like that, but steeper by about 10 degrees) to do something I didn't even know we were going to do (I love these kind of things). We were standing at the Royal Observatory, and guess what's there? The Prime Meridian! So yes, I got my picture taken in the cliche pose of having one foot in the Western hemisphere and the other in the Eastern, but you can't say you have.
But after about 15 minutes of being by the Thames, and on a hill, the wind had numbed about 85% of my body and I was over it. I was like, wait we just walked up a hill which was on one side of the line, and stood at the gate which is on the other... so the magic was lost. But there was a cool statue that I got my picture taken with. Some sort of silver sculpture with a glass point at an angle.
This, I learned (but more kind of hear), is supposedly the line of the axis through the earth. So Erica, Eric, and I made our way down the hill as quickly as possible (which was undoubtedly 100% easier than going up) to go through the town and visit Greenwich market. Of course, we laughed and laughed at ourselves and each other randomly wobbling and slipping on the whole one-centimeter of snow. We were all hungry so we stopped at Kings Arms to eat some lunch. The place was awesome - it was warm (we sat in leather chairs by the fire) and the food was amazing. Instead of plain ole fish and chips, we all got Scampi and chips. (I think scampi's a crustacean - it definitely tasted like shrimp). It was SO delicious, though! In fact, the scampi was so good, i didn't even put vinegar on it so I wouldn't ruin the taste (and i LOVE vinegar). And I got Coke from the fountain here (first time in the UK)! I went outside for a quick smoke in the back patio area, and sat under a heated tent and made friends (who actually took the picture of Erica, Eric, and me by the sign).
When I went it, Erica and Eric said our waiter had mentioned an awesome place to go out that was located by our flat. Not only did he say it was awesome, he said it was the top club in London. Turns out, it's one of the top 3 clubs in the world. See below for more info. We thanked him, and made our way to the Market. There were cool shops and little tables set up. And we found THE coolest thing. (Mom - quit reading unless you want to ruin your surprise... ;) ) We got little packets of tiny tiny beads, that when you add water, grow into balls that you put into flower vases (like marbles), BUT they also feed the plants! and they come in all colors. Then, we got seeds that have words or pictures written on them and when you plant the seeds and they grow, the word grows off the stem. AWESOME! So I got 6 for the special people in my life, and different colored beads for everyone. We were done with Greenwich by then so we got on the train and headed back over to Westminster. We got off at Westminster and went to see the Dali exhibit at the aquarium, which is literally right beside the London Eye. The exhibit was awesome. We took tons of pictures, though close to the beginning we saw a sign that said no photography allowed, but everyone else was so... There were even pieces from Picasso's Blue Period. I was a little afraid of taking pictures of those because there was a BIG sign that said "this gallery is under video surveillance. At the end, there was an interactive exhibit, which featured a huge "smart board" where you could use a fake spray paint can and make graffiti. A little boy (and his mother) were busy creating, so we went to the next room. In this room, there were papers and pencils and pastels and paints and pictures that people had made hung all around. Erica, Eric, and I each painted a card that we then hung up with others. As people put their cards up in the empty frame, a beautiful mosaic was in the process of being created. So before we left, we took pictures of our art hanging with the other visitors's. Can you say you have art hanging in London? I can :)
So we decided to make our way home. At one of the stations before Westminter (Victoria?) we saw a photo booth for passport pictures. We had to get our picture taken. So the three of us cram into this tiny one-stool booth and cheese. The stupid thing wouldn't take our picture. Finally it went, after telling us our pose was not an approved passport picture, and then finally it printed. But anways - Turns out - the theatre isn't in the theatre district. So we got back on the tube and made our way to Battersea Arts Centre on Lavender Hill. This place was like the Harlem of London, at least from what I can tell. We got to the theatre, got our tickets, ran to Subway for a light dinner, then back to the theatre. We saw 1984, the show i was most excited about. turns out - i was wrong. it was absolutely horrible, and i don't mean kind of crappy like Twelfth Night, I mean absolutely horrible. I was trying to convince my friends to read the book and not make an opinion of it based on the play. HORRIBLE. So, at the interval, Erica went outside with me while I smoked a cigarette. While we were standing there I felt a whiz by my calf, and we both heard a THUMP. then another one. we look down and there are two oranges. then there are these two kids, and one goes "Quit smoking it's naughty!" I looked at Erica, both of our mouths open in shock, and then... the kids came and picked up the oranges.
Then, I look up, the parents are just standing there, laughing at their children. And when I made a mean face at the kid like "what what you wanna go?" (which, what am i gonna do, hit a 10 year old?) he cocked his arm like he was gonna throw it in my face. And i'm sorry, but the last thing i need is a 10 year old breaking my retainer so I have to walk around with no front tooth, so I looked away, like a punk. So he made some face and said some British rubbish, and walked off. Erica and I were in complete and total shock. This whole ordeal went down in only about 30 seconds. Too fast for me to even think of what to do. so we go in, tell andrea what happened, and sit for the rest of the play, using the time wisely (instead of wasting it by actually watching the play) to pick our fingernail polish off. Like doing something with the TV on just for background noise.
*
1984
The playwright is trying to tell the story of the novel of 1984, and depict the ideas of the Big Brother, mind control, surveillance, and a life with no choices or privacy. The play depicted all of these things, but was not what I expected. I expected the play to be more of the story of Winston, his inner struggles and personal experiences, which the play touched on, but I felt like the play was just a mere summary of the novel. Was it worth doing? I still don’t know. I absolutely hated the story they chose to depict, so I would say no. But artistically, I thought it was different, so I would say no. I’m torn, it’s something I personally could have lived without, but I’m glad they’re trying to get the story and reality of Big Brother out to the public. I sat at the very top of the seats, which I think was helpful because I could see everything, whereas the people in front couldn’t see or catch some of the signs up close. But, I could see between the cracks of the barricades and could see if they were preparing to hold up props or hiding. Unlike everyone else who was sitting on benches, the back row had chairs at least. I found the theatre to be bleak and small, almost like a prison cell, but that could be the feel they intended on seeing as the story had a lot to do with imprisonment. The play had a minimalist style, and that theme was brought to life by the costumes, properties, theatre, scenery, and sounds. I wish I had been a little closer to the stage merely so I could have seen the details of the puppets better, but I was impressed that even though the puppets were small, I could still see them and understand them. This play had a traditional linear structure; it started, told a story from beginning to end, and then ended. I was manipulated intellectually, and even though I didn’t enjoy the performance, I was manipulated emotionally. The fact that I was agitated the entire time seems to me like a manipulation of my emotions. The eight-bit music was annoying, the never-ending signs got old and corny, and the girl playing the old man (who NEVER quit squenching her face, even when she wasn’t being that character) got under my skin like nothing else. For the style of play, I thought that all of the actors did a fine job. Winston was most successful, as he annoyed me less than all of the others. He seemed the most human of all, considering the people he was around were like little robots in their socialist government. But overall, I didn’t find any of the performances dynamic or anything to swoon over. The casting was traditional. In fact, all of the actors (with the exception of Winston and his chest hair that covered his neck) looked the same: white skinned and average. Other than the digital music and overuse of props, there wasn’t any spectacle in this performance. They didn’t need any, not for the story they chose to convey. However, in a larger venue, they would’ve need something more than annoying sounds and signs to keep anyone from getting up and walking out. The bland costumes and colors had an impact on me, most definitely. Other than being annoyed, I was not emotionally impacted. I deeply disliked the sound design, set design, and lack of scenery, but I really liked the puppet designs. Above all, the design of the production most definitely supported the intent and meaning of this show. It was minimalist, bare, and almost unbearable. The one thing that most impacted me was the audience. The people in front of me laughed at everything, which I found the play to not contain funny themes or actions. They laughed at Winston fucking Julia, which was so over-the-top to show how bad they wanted to just have sex, not to be funny, and laughed at Winston being electrocuted, which I guess if you find people being shocked and then screaming with their hands out because of the pain funny, then this play is right up your alley. I felt that this performance tried really hard to depict what the novel was about, but lacked depth, and the audience just wasn’t ready to think critically instead of laughing and looking at what was right in front of their faces.
*
Finally, that sorry excuse for a play was over, and Erica, Eric, and I took off (trying to escape the group too). We practically ran to the Tube station, only for there to be technical difficulties with Eric's oyster card. But we managed to get on the train with only 2 other people from the group also making it. We returned to the flat to get dressed. We were going to Fabric. After getting cute and freshening up our scent and make up, we headed out. And we saw the line. The line for Fabric. So we stopped at a pub to get a drink while the line was so long. There, we met three people from Paris: Carrie, Julian, and some girl who's name sounded like a Jewish expression and I couldn't pronounce, let alone spell. It was nice, they liked Americans, they called Paris magical, and they were funny. It was nice - I'd kind of given up on Paris and going. I figured they all hated us Americans and I wasn't so sure about Paris. But they changed my mind, and my hope has been restored! So we all got in line for the club, but the two French girls got separated, so just the Americans got in when we got to the entrance. I can't even put this place into words. Not only was it huge (3, 4 floors?) The music was awesome. You walk into this place, and the bass vibrates through your whole body. It was hot, so we checked our coats (one pound) and went to dance. There were several djs, one for each floor, but i think the one we stayed at longest was Numbers. I don't know check out for the details. So we dance and dance and dance and have an absolute ball. At about 3 I went out for a smoke, and met George, who goes to university at Bath. He LOVED my tattoos. In fact, he said "That looks like some Miami Ink shit right there" and taught me something about swallows. He saw Holly Golightly on my right inner arm, and asked where my second swallow was. I told him I didn't have one. He said you're supposed to get your second swallow when you're on the path that you want to be on in life, and you're happy with where you're headed. Swallows, I learned, mate for life, so they're lovebirds. So I go back in and we all decide that it's about time to go. I had noticed the shirts that the staff were wearing, almost like I <3 NY but it was I
Recently named the best club in the world (again) by DJmag, Fabric is a club that is universally acknowledged as being the best at what it does because it simply focuses on the heart of club culture: the music. Although Fabric has been graced by the presence of top DJs, it is most widely celebrated for bringing underground dance music and more obscure, but still talented DJs to the spotlight. Fabric was also the first club in Europe to house what it calls a “bodysonic” dancefloor: clubbers on the dancefloor can literally shake it to the beat because parts of the floor are hooked up to 400 bass transducers that pump out the music being played, right into the dancing bodies via their feet. With 25000 square feet of room to get shook in a club in which “there’s never been so much as a dud DJ,” Fabric more than deserves a spot in this list.
Saturday:
Erica and I planned on waking up at 11. At 2, we got out of bed, got dressed, and headed out to run errands. Turns out, everything is closed on Saturday. The weather was miserable, the post office was closed (I HAVE to get these postcards in the mail!), the banks were closed, and even most of the pubs were closed. We found a cute place to grab some lunch then headed home, as it was almost time for me to start my adventure to the concert tonight. On the way home, we stopped to buy groceries. (Yeah, we're a little tired of spending the money to eat out all the time, and dang, it adds up!) So we get home after grocery shopping, and lo and behold, a bag of my groceries was missing. So I get dressed for the concert, and sweet Erica says she'll walk with me to the grocery store and bring my bag back, as it's on my way to the concert. So we go, they have it, she takes it, and I'm off on my own. I went to Holborn and took the Central Line to the Picadilly Line and got off at Leicester Station, which is right at Trafalgar Square, which is where St. Martin-in-the-Fields is located.
I had about an hour, so I went to the crypt and did a rubbing (a gold unicorn - awesome, i know!) and had an Italian-speaking family take my picture.
Then I made my way to the church for the performance. The man beside me was a local, and nice, and said this was the fourth performance he had attended at the church. Let me tell you (and mom - get ready to find a horn repair shop) - I had a lump in my throat from the first note.
The performance was absolutely flawless. And even parts where I wasn't sure it was flawless (which, what do i know?) the emotion that was involved and created in the movements and sounds were flawless. Again, a cathartic experience. Just what my soul has been needing. The whole time, my brain was just drowned in thoughts about how blessed I am. I wanted to call my grammy and my mom immediately and say "Thank you soooo much for making this happen for me!" I mean, no one says your parents or family HAVE to do things for you. I felt their love during that performance. I left, so happy and so full. I found my way back and got off at Holborn, but see here's where I always get a little confused. Yes, I have a map, and 97% of the time, I'm great with it. But I got a little turned around. I passed that damn Starbucks and sandwich shop Erica and I had passed 30,000 times the first day we were here and were lost, but eventually I found Farrindon Road, and then saw Crawford House, which is on the same "block" as my flat and is a place where some people from our group are staying. Erica buzzed me in, and we had a drink, hung out, and I wrote. It's now 1:34, i'm slightly buzzed from my 568 ml Gaymer's cider, we're laughing about cracking the window because we're tipsy and it's hot, but Courtney thinks because there are no screens that bugs might fly in (even though it's the dead middle of winter). I'm gonna smoke a cigarette, talk to my love, and go to bed. Erica and Courtney want me to mention that Erica is currently wearing earplugs and her Virgin Atlantic eye cover (as she would say, eye patches). London has been good to me. Only a little over a week left. Oh, and Erica and I are wearing our Fabric t-shirts to class in the morning.
And now that I have internet on MY computer, I'll be able to update everyday.
And can I just say, so many people said the food would be horrible in London - and I would like to take a moment and say WTF? It's delicious. The veggies are crisp, the fruit is flavorful, and most importantly, things aren't genetically modified. So yeah, there are some shitty fish'n'chips places that don't beer-batter them or whatever, but c'mon, even Subway has fresh ingredients that are better than the US's. So yeah - next time you're in London, if you've had a bad experience, FIND BETTER PLACES and don't be such a tourist.
Cheers!
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