Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Globular
To the Globe to see Othello; usually a good watch. And was reminded how live the issues of the play remain. For example, promotion to high position of those with nice manners. Globe in the rain in the evening was very pretty since we had excellent seats with backs - a point to remember next time I book the place. No backs bad news. The producer appeared to have taken a leaf out of the Young Vic panto decor book and lavished much care on creating period deco and ambience, again very pretty. But acting a bit patchy and a lot of it lacked passion and clarity. Iago I thought was all wrong - a flabby, slowly rollicking sergeant type who completely failed to ooze evil. But on keyboard reflection, maybe that is a fair crack. A rather ordinary person who compasses great evil without too much reflection or passion. The actor concerned earned his spurs on telly in Blackadder. Roderigo was played too much for laughs. I started off thinking that Desdemona was too old and too knowing. But then, what sort of a Venetian Sloane would marry a much older soldier and a Moor to boot? And she carried off the innocent flirting rather well.
The most serious complaint was that what with all the decor padding and one thing and another it ran for more then three and a half hours. Far too long for those of declining attention spans, with a fondness for a beer after the perf or those with trains to catch to suburbia. Next time a matinee and miss out on the interesting lighting conditions.
Outdoor paper recycling has taken an interesting turn. We have a large tub - originally used 25 years ago for boiling up the ingredients for DIY beer (which was alcoholic but was nothing like as good as brewer beer) - into which I tear banking and other paper of that sort into very small peices. Quicker than the cheap office shredder we might otherwise use and the results should rot down faster. The paper takes a long time to break down in water - which it has to share with mosquito larvae and other livestock - but eventually it does and one has a sort of cloudy, fluffy, thin porridge like grey stuff sitting in the bottom half of the tub. Of odd and interesting appearance. A sort of aquatic cotton wool.
Yesterday's Guardian had a good job on offer: a post in forensic anthropology. I remember reading a few weeks ago that today's way to sex up a dull job title was to stick the word 'forensic' in front, so clearly these people read the same newspapers. The people in question being Bournemouth University. What on earth does one do with a degree in forensic anthropology from such a place? Three years research posting as a night shelf filler in an inner city Tesco?
Does the public fascination with matters forensic on telly, reflect the ruling classes fascination with regulation and rules? Clearly need to be properly fuelled to dilate on that one so it will have to wait.
The most serious complaint was that what with all the decor padding and one thing and another it ran for more then three and a half hours. Far too long for those of declining attention spans, with a fondness for a beer after the perf or those with trains to catch to suburbia. Next time a matinee and miss out on the interesting lighting conditions.
Outdoor paper recycling has taken an interesting turn. We have a large tub - originally used 25 years ago for boiling up the ingredients for DIY beer (which was alcoholic but was nothing like as good as brewer beer) - into which I tear banking and other paper of that sort into very small peices. Quicker than the cheap office shredder we might otherwise use and the results should rot down faster. The paper takes a long time to break down in water - which it has to share with mosquito larvae and other livestock - but eventually it does and one has a sort of cloudy, fluffy, thin porridge like grey stuff sitting in the bottom half of the tub. Of odd and interesting appearance. A sort of aquatic cotton wool.
Yesterday's Guardian had a good job on offer: a post in forensic anthropology. I remember reading a few weeks ago that today's way to sex up a dull job title was to stick the word 'forensic' in front, so clearly these people read the same newspapers. The people in question being Bournemouth University. What on earth does one do with a degree in forensic anthropology from such a place? Three years research posting as a night shelf filler in an inner city Tesco?
Does the public fascination with matters forensic on telly, reflect the ruling classes fascination with regulation and rules? Clearly need to be properly fuelled to dilate on that one so it will have to wait.
# posted by Jim @ 1:37 AM 
