The Real Thing at The Old Vic Thur 13 May 2010

I got home from my afternoon excursions just in time to eat and change for the the-ah-tre. Not that I have very fancy clothes with me. Just a long black cotton skirt that's too lightweight for the weather, but I put some pyschedlic tights on under it and wore a bunch of jewelry. I ate leftover "trout" which is what they call coho salmon here, and then headed back out to the Tube. I found my way with surprising ease, and was quite surprised to be able to see the Old Vic theatre from the entrance to the Tube station. On the map it looked as if it was blocks and blocks away, but all those streets were actually coming together in one of those ubiquitous curved intersections (maybe it's a giant roundabout that I can't see the other side of). 


I'd been quite worried about my mail back home. Bruce & Teresa had informed me that I'd used the wrong address on the change of address form to send my mail to them, and that meant they couldn't pick up my important stuff to send on to me here. Since my income for the next few months depends on my filling out those important papers, I was in a near panic about getting the mail thing sorted out, so I called Horizon and Barbara to try to figure out what I'd done with my mailbox key. I'd had a plan on where I was going to put it, so I'd remember when I got home, but it wasn't there.  I must've changed my mind and then later forgotten the new plan. Gees.


With no way to further that saga, I hung up and crossed the street to the theatre. It's small and sweet, and it was great fun to see all the different folks who were coming in for the performance. I bought a program for 4GBP ($6.17), a bit shocked that my $48 ticket didn't cover that. But I wanted the souvenir.


The interior was lovely, and the stage itself looked like a giant television screen. I'm not sure why they did that; if it was part of this particular production, or if it always looks like that.

Balconies of the Old Vic Theatre in Southbank

The Incongruous TV Set Stage

The play itself was fabulous. Stoppard is so clever with words, with puns and quick comebacks and sarcasm, with sweet descriptions and delicious reverence for words themselves. He's also attuned to the great longings of humans, especially in relations with each other, and this play showed him at his best with that. A thinly veiled story of his own life of some time ago, leaving his actress wife for the leading lady in his current play, and wondering why the women in his life don't share his romantic ideal of love. All wrapped up in questioning the meaning of political action, writing, art, and his obsession with fairly meaningless pop music. He has a way of making you laugh at the saddest things, not in a dark way, but in a "wow, your cleverness gives you a good coping mechanism--good for you, man" kind of way.

I sat next to a chatty retired Australian couple who travel the world seeing theatre productions. We talked before the play and during the intermission, and they told me that one of the 5 cast members is Maggie Smith's son. They come to London at least once, if not twice a year, to see the shows. It was fun to have someone to chat with. I really missed Louise and Francis at this show, as it's always been so much fun to go to the theatre with them. And Louise loves Tom Stoppard, too, as I do. We saw his last play, Rock 'N Roll, when it opened in San Francisco, and I was wishing she could be with me in London for this new one. 

Originally I had planned on eating somewhere after the show, but I decided that I'd already treated myself with the ticket and the program, so I headed home. And such was my first real night out in London. Yes.