Theres too much to say and too little time to say it, so there will be no lengthy preamble about how few travellers on the Hammersmith & City Line refer to Treedown in their chats with strangers. Even I, Mr TG, failed to find a way to crowbar in a mention while amicably bantering with a football fan, between Baker St and Latimer Road.
"What team do you support, mate ?"
"Spurs"
"What the hell are you doing over here ferchrissakes?"
"We are on our way to Wembley...."
What was I doing there I hear you cry. I went to see a wonderful little production of "Picasso" by Terry D'Alfonso at the Playground theatre. Boy was it good, with a strong cast led by Peter Tate as Pablo, Clare Bowman (Marie Therese Walter), Adele Oni (Genevieve Laporte) and a terrific Spanish actress, Alejandro Costa as Jacqueline Roque, the final keeper of the keys to Picassos heart, and house. There was some fascinating scenes in which PP's obsession with harlequins was discussed, as was the recurring motif of the bull and the Minotaur. The three women took turns to have dialogues with the man in the middle, each one waiting for her time in his sun. Why it all happened in a sandpit was unclear, but the use of short films projected onto a screen behind the players was clever and illuminating.
Closer to home, to the new Bridge Theatre for Young Marx with Rory Kinnear as a rogueish Karl in impoverished circumstances in soho. There was a definite attempt to lighten the load on the audiences cerebellum, with few revolutionary dialectics, but plenty of hiding in cupboards and a few mock fights and drunken songs. It was all pretty lightweight but the new theatre is a wonder.
Intox Extravaganza at the DIY Space was another success with more in attendance than last time. As well as Simon Yorkshire's Nightmares on Old Kent Road, we were treated to a young Japanese performer who was all business - Sera Eke
Finally , two disappointments. Death of Stalin was neither comedy nor thriller. If everybody looks shit scared all the time, it just grates. Once Joe dies, - not giving too much away I hope - Steve Buscemi slowly takes over as Kruschev. I could have cared less...Impressionism In London at Tate Britain. massive groups descended and one can only hope the Tate is making pots of money, seeing as it costs £20 per ticket. There are some sweet Tissots & Monets but the Pissaros were all familiar from the National Gallery / Corthauld, except the garish attempts at pointillism which were distinctly second rate. The best painting was by a new artist on me; Nittis. A huge canvas given a wall to itself, it was a super atmospheric depiction of Parliament from Westminster bridge, with some local men smoking their pipes in the foreground. There was so much smoke, they could have been vaping.
The best concert of the year, no, the last 20 years ; Amadou and Mariam at the Troxy. The whole place was just rocking joyously, what a magnificent set, atmospheric, mysterious and hugely enjoyable. I paid my usual visit to the London Jazz festival, this time taking in Miles Mosley at Islington Trade Hall.
