Orpheus and Eurydice

 The soldier lies in the battlefield,

Virginia Woolf is dancing on the table,

and Sarah Kane has escaped from her bed. 

Soap Opera

 

but not Eastenders, nor Coronation Street. I wonder if there will be half hour performances every weekday now ;)

Mahlzeit

The last part of the German trilogy by Beton Ltd. 

(I missed No.2, so hoping it will be on again at some time)

Mrs Shaw Herself

 A monodrama 

with live music.

Getting to photograph

a theatre performance in London, and it reminded me of the G2G performances in Glej.

Blindness

We are all getting blinder by the day, we can only hope it is only a passing epidemic.

The poetry

of Sappho.

After translating

9 hours straight I had the pleasure of going to see a totally unrelated double bill. First I saw a dance performance Profile and Punishment (which reminded me I should read Crime and Punishment one of these days), where the main thread of the conversation outside of the performance was the review they received which was the butt of many a joke.

After that I went a floor lower and a few doors down the corridor to watch Tesla trying to design a time traveling machine. Of course, he sought help in conversations with Einstein, Newton, Galileo, Marie Curie and Darwin (Which made me think I need to read some of their stuff also - I read something by Einstein and Darwin already, so any ideas for the others?)

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon

Perfect for photographing in the theatre.

Gone again

to see what my friend is up to. This time he had the lights and costumes and all sorted (which I guess must have been lucky for him as it was two days to the opening night), and as a photographer I must say that to me it all fall in place when the lights are sorted.

And just so you don't forget, I also do concerts :). This time in a small cafe with almost no lights... so es, one of the rare occasions I used my flash. 

Night 2

of working on the set. Still director of photography, had more to do than the first night, but as I now have a better idea as to what is going on, I still had time to take a few photos. So here is the main actor in action.

Massacre

after massacre and I know it is so easy to get all haughty on a subject like this, so I will try to avoid it (probably unsuccessfully). Instead I will try to share a single flash that skipped neurons somewhere deep inside my brain while watching the show.

So first a little about the setting, just so you know in what sort of circumstances this flash occurred: the show speaks about the various massacres that took place through history and when they reached the 800.000 people that were estimated to be slaughtered during the 100 day Rwandan genocide (I think I got this right, but with all the massacres I saw that evening, quite a few of which took place in my lifetime, I might have been dazed and confused, and mixed some data) the flash appeared.

 In my flash I was trying to imagine all these people, give them names and faces, because, c’mon, let’s be real, life is never a mere statistic. So, the following people flashed in front of my eyes:

All the people in the maternity ward in Perivale, none of whom I remember (but I imagine was full of nurses, doctors, babies, mothers, fathers), my parents, my grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, Shirley and all the kids at her place, the dustman who I used to talk to on my way to Shirley’s, all the people in the elementary school in London, all the people in nursery school in Ljubljana, the people in elementary school in Ljubljana, at Holland park comprehensive, secondary school in Ljubljana, at University, on the streets of Ljubljana or London, in the streets of Paris, Lisbon, Budapest or Sagres or any other place I have visited, the nurses and doctors in my too common visits to the hospital, the girlfriends I had, the people I met at various work related meetings, all the friends I have made, all the people I met in the theatre, at concerts, in galleries, the people I shared a drink or two with in various bars and the cute waitresses who brought me those drinks, the people who wanted to kick my ass when I was younger (luckily this does not seem to happen anymore (touch wood)), the beggars I say hello to as I pass them… I imagined all of them, in a single flash, you know how weird these things are in the brain, the few thousand people I interacted with in my life, and it flashed, ok, so you have all gone. Just like that. Everybody I know and anybody I have ever known (even people I know only virtually), everybody I am still going to get to know, everybody who rubbed off a minute speck of themselves onto me, all gone.  In a single massacre. At this stage my brain shut down and returned to the show, because it found a bit hard to deal with this. On the personal side of the massacre.

So, I will leave it at this.

Chekhov vs. Chekhov

I have seen two Chekhov plays in 2 weeks, and enjoyed them both (actually enjoyed them much more than I enjoyed reading him)
The thing they both had in common (obviously apart from being written by Chekhov) was that they both seemed to be a loose interpretation of the text, so it seems that he was a writer who stimulated this through his writing, but I will have to read these two plays (now that I have seen them) and get back to you on this.

Chekhov

and the Serbian national theatre make a really great team and time flies by, leaving you in a dream (slightly hazy it is). 

I just

love it in the theatre. I wonder if I could find a job there?

Love

A reality check before spring kicks in.

They ran

out of apples...

How can I chose

which photo to post when I have seen more interesting things in a single day than I have fingers on my hands? Well, I will just chose one of them, and you know where you can find the rest, don't you?

Wednesday evening

Litija. On stage. (The playwright and theatre director won't let me show the photos yet, but this one is surely legit, or have I managed to reveal the entire plot and spoilt it all?)

Gimme theatre

and let me photograph it.