Sigh.

[ysobelle]

At the moment, I haven't a penny to spare to go to England. To say I'm heartbroken is an understatement. A gross, cruel understatement.

But there's a catch.

One of the main reasons I want to go now, this minute, is that both the Globe and the RSC in Stratford are putting on productions of "A Midsummer Night's Dream." I am besotted with this play: I had thoughts, for a while, of making it my thesis production for my undergrad degree, playing it in Palm Court at New College, under the stars. Parenthetically, I didn't yet know I wanted to be a costumer, much less a corsetiere. But I had just come back from living in London the year before, and had seen AMND twice at The Barbican in a production which I will never forget, and which peacockharpy may yet remember.

At any rate, up til yesterday, I'd mistakenly believed the second production this season, at the Courtyard Theatre in Stratford with the RSC, only ran for the month of May. This morning, I discover that no, it actually runs until November. Even more interestingly, I also discovered that on 2 October, their production of "Love's Labour's Lost" opens. This is also a play with which I have some familiarity, as Carnegie Mellon did a production of it during my tenure there: a gorgeous, pastel-hued, jewel-box confection (which may've had Josh Groban somewhere in the cast, though I don't remember him) that I just adored. I'd love to see it again, especially considering that the role of Berowne will be played by none other than David Tennant.

It would mean going during Faire. It would mean missing two weekends of faire. But it would also mean I'd actually get to go to London during a period where I'm actually making money again.


Sigh. If G-d intended me to be a theatre slut, why couldn't S/He make me a rich theatre slut?



ETA: Oh, and did I mention "The Merry Wives of Windsor" would ALSO be on offer at The Globe?

Comments

[peacockharpy.livejournal.com]

I don't remember their names, but I remember your mom had sent all the most recent Calvin and Hobbes (about his abstract art snowmen) and we passed the clippings around.

I also remember telling the cabbie, afterward, that we needed to go somewhere to eat. He took us to Borscht and Tears, where we fell in with drunken Irishmen who wanted us to take them home. (And also kept trying to get us to give them our food: "Are ya gonna be eatin' that?" has become one of our household in-jokes, based on that story!)

[ysobelle.livejournal.com]

I cannot remember Mom sending me those, but it does sound like something she'd do. Damn, my memory just sucks. I DO remember almost knocking William Hurt down the stairs. And sharing a box with Mustardseed's mum.

And oh, yeah, I remember the Irishmen. I tried to remember where Borscht and Tears was last time I went, but for the life of me, I'd no idea.

Was it you with me that time at the Indian place where they said, "You don't know Indian food? Try this! And this!" and the bill, when it came, knocked us out?

[peacockharpy.livejournal.com]

Not me with the Indian food (unless it's just been wiped from my memory!) but I do remember that no matter where we went... no matter what city... we always found the Chinese restaurant. I think we ate Chinese food in Paris and in Athens.

Borscht and Tears was around Sloane Square, I think. Ah, a quick Google search tells me: Beauchamp Place.