An Inspector Called. I Was Out.

Hiya all, just checking in to tell you about the play I saw tonight: An Inspector Calls. It's a play by Stephen Daltry showing at the Novello Theatre near Covent Garden.

Since I'm so punctual about getting tickets, my seats were front row center. It was a superb play to see that close, since so much of it is ensconced in fog and misty rain, and the action is so exciting on stage. It takes place in the early 20th century, right before WWI. The play's action occurs in one night, as a police inspector investigates the sordid past of a wealthy English family and their connection to a girl who recently committed suicide. A plethora of confessions and implications are made, people are disillusioned and some grand, somewhat heavy-handed statements about the nature of humanity are made. I say heavy-handed, but it was certainly effective at creating some truly repulsive and truly sympathetic characters, and I was very entertained. Every week it seems like I've found a new favourite play, but then it's further topped (with the exception of Mother Courage, sorry Brecht) the next week. Each one stands out, though, which is why it's so exciting to get a new one every week!

Oh, and I neglected to mention that tomorrow we're seeing All's Well That Ends Well at the National Theatre (I think). It's supposed to be one of the best performances in the city, so I have no doubt that it will end well. It was a strange play to read, but it is apparently infinitely better to see it performed. We'll see...

Night all.

Stratford-upon-Next Week

Hey guys, just letting you know that I'm not neglecting the blog, but this is my weekend off and I'm studying for midterms. So no pictures or interesting stories, but next week is an overnight visit to Stratford and I'll have plenty of pictures from that. So until then...wish me luck on midterms!

Patrick Stewart and The Pitman Painters

Evening all, just a quick update about my evening seeing The Pitman Painters and an interesting encounter I had with a celebrity.

I suppose I'll start with the celebrity. We saw The Pitman Painters at the National Theatre, and while we were in the lobby waiting for the show to start we saw Patrick Stewart at the bar ordering a glass of whine. We all had the requisite moment of freaking out, since Patrick Stewart was about five feet from us, and then calmed down enough to find pens and things for him to autograph.

While we were waiting he walked past us and kind of stood against the wall, drinking his wine and examing his playbill. We stood there for a moment, and I was deliberating what to do. Clearly he was absorbed, and I didn't want to disturb him because that would be obnoxious. He's allowed peace when he goes to the theatre, just because he's a celebrity doesn't mean we can approach and bother him all the time. All of these thoughts flashed through my mind and were immediately superceded by another thought: you only live once.

I stepped forward with pen and paper in hand, and he looked up at me. By the way, I swear to you these are almost the exact words spoken, I'm not joking or exaggerating in any way.

JOEY: Hi...I'm sorry.

PATRICK STEWART: For what?

JOEY: Well, you're obviously not here for this, and I shouldn't bother you just because I recongize you.

PATRICK STEWART: [smiling] You hit it right on the nose.

JOEY: Yeah, well...it was really nice to see you and talk to you.

PATRICK STEWART: You too. Have a good evening.

JOEY: Enjoy the show.

I then slinked back into my group of friends and began, not for the first time that night, to retell the words I just wrote for you. Most of the professors were pretty impressed I had had the guts to talk to him, and most of my classmates thought it was pretty funny. At the time I was so starstruck I didn't really register that I had gotten brushed off, but now it's kind of obvious. But he was polite about it, and I like to think I was too, so I'm not too embarassed. Life is too short, and I had a mini conversation with Patrick Stewart.

I made it so.

The show was very good. It's all about the coal miners that became painters and exhibited a lot of outsider art. It was a little sad, but also very funny. The pictures were very good, as were the performances. Those sentences are the reason I will never be a theatre critic.

Anyway, I'm very busy with midterms (it's only a 9 week set of courses, so they came up pretty fast), and my computer is broken and I'm getting it fixed(I'm using a computer loaned to me from the program), so I'll leave you. Night.

Will's Oxford, Not Lyra's

Hello everyone. I'm making a very sleepy report on my day in Oxford from my flat back in London. I hope you enjoy the pictures!

The bus left this morning at 8, and I wanted to watch the changing English countryside on the journey, but I just slept. We arrived at about 10 and made our way to the middle of the city to begin our walking tour of the University's Colleges. Consequently, most of the pictures depict the colleges, but that's the main feature of the town. I have a special surprise for you if you wait until the end, though! The captions are above.

This was where me met for the tour: Martyr's Monument, or something. It's next to the church of Mary Magdalene. Many bold pigeons surround it.

We passed by the History of Science Museum, which we visited (the Oxford trip was for the Neuroscience class, after all) later that day. I'll break the chronology and tell you about it now, below.

The museum had many scientific instruments from around the world. Not the most engaging museum for me, unfortunately, but I managed to spend a good deal of time there. It contained a blackboard preserved with Einstein's handwriting. I couldn't really understand the equations, unsurprisingly. Also, it had the print making tools used by Lewis Carroll. But my favorite part, undoubtedly, was finding a small display case showing skulls that had been trepanned. I kept an eye out for thieving old men and lying little girls, but no worries. No Dust, either.

More of the museum.

I'm fairly sure this is the gatehouse for Balliol, which is the second oldest college in Oxford (so it was established in the 13th century). Fun fact: they have gatehouses because originally the college was very concerned with keeping townsfolk out. Today was something of a prospective student day, however, so people were milling in and out of all the buildings. This fact plays into my day later, so remember it.

This is a building the students gather in before continuing across to the hall where they receive their diplomas. It has also been used in a few Harry Potter scenes: the infirmary from the first movie and the room where they learned to dance in the fourth movie were located on the ground floor. The upper level has been used as the library a couple of times as well.

I can't remember what this is exactly...probably a library or something.

This is (according to our tour guide) the most photographed building in Oxford. How could I resist?

This is the gatehouse for the only college we went inside: New College. That's Mary above, I think.

The next three pictures are the courtyard inside New College. It was truly serene; no street noise, no sign of modern technology. We went in the great hall as well, but we couldn't take pictures.

This is the garden in the next few pictures. The grass can only be used for croquet, apparently.

Okay, this is the coolest Harry Potter picture I have. This is another courtyard, but this one has been in the movies frequently. See if you can tell!

Remember in the fourth movie when Malfoy was turned into a ferret by Moody? Remember the tree he was under when it happened? Voila.

This is another courtyard, I think for a different college but I'm not sure. I took a picture of this statue because it might be the mysterous W.H. Shakespeare wrote those sonnets to. Genius that I am, I cannot remember his name. It has the appropriate initials, however.

The statue in this gatehouse is of James I, who said if he wasn't king he's rather be an "Oxford-man."

This is the Radcliffe Camera, which was built in the 18th century and is used as a science library. Some have described it has an enormous waste of space, but I thought it was a very handsome building.

I think a lot of this was designed by Christopher Wren. That's generally true of any picture taken in England, however.

Ah, faithful readers, you have reached your prize! (Unless you skipped down, in which case: don't cheat!) This is the Eagle & Child pub, the pub in which a certain J.R.R Tolkien and C.S. Lewis met and discussed Hobbits, Wardrobes, and the difference between subtle and overt religious allegory. Torrey (who is one of the other English majors on the trip) and I had lunch inside, basking in the glow of the Rabbit Room, whose walls have the signatures of those illustrious authors. I had bangers and mash and a pint, and it was good. Oh boy was it good. What made it better? The fact that we were sitting where Tolkien once sat. I'm still smiling about it.

And that is the end of the photographed portion of my journey. After the visit to the museum (which happened after the pub, remember), we went to one of the largest bookstores in England, where I bought a copy of the novel Let the Right One In, which was one of my favorite movies last year. The novel is in translation from Swedish, but it's very good so far. The best part was when I got a discount at the store through lying. Witness my mastery of the deceptive arts:

CLERK: Hello. Are you here for the open day at the colleges?

JOEY: What? No, I don't...[notices sign indicating 20% off for prospective students] I mean yes, yes of course.

CLERK: [Raises eyebrows] You're quite sure?

JOEY: Yup.

A pause, during which I struggle not to break eye contact with the woman and prepare to run from the authorities.

CLERK: Fine, whatever.

Oxford: 0, Saving 2 pounds: 1. I'm like the American James Bond. Just sayin'.

I proceeded to the Botanical Gardens (with a dead camera, sorry), where I read my book for the rest of the afternoon. Then a very long bus ride back to London, where I type this to you now. I am rather tired, and have more museums to visit tomorrow. There will be less pictures, unfortunately, but today's supply should satiate. Unless you can look at the ocean instead, in which case good for you!!! Thanks!!!

Mooooooooooooooooother Cooooooooooooourage

Hi all. I figured I should update at least once in between the weekends, just to talk about the plays and various other shenanigans I'm getting up to.

Mother Courage was last night at the National Theatre, which is on the south bank of the Thames, right next to London Bridge. It's a Brecht play, and I'd heard some...things about Brecht before going in, so I was a little apprehensive. The play itself is about a woman in the 17th century who follows Swedish troops invading Poland and profits off the war. Throughout the play all three of her children die (don't worry about spoilers, the play informs you of this fact early on), and so it's Brecht on war and hopelessness and all that fun stuff. Mother Courage herself was played by Fiona Shaw, who also plays Petunia Dursley in the Harry Potter films. She did a good job, as did all the actors, but the play itself...was four hours long. And the thing I learned about Brecht is that he likes to go a lot of places but never get anywhere. Also, the play was four hours long. There were diatribes about how war is bad, but they were always awkwardly placed and heavy-handed. And boy was it a long play. Four hours. The play had moments of poignancy, and I don't bore easily, but overall I found it hard to be interested. It started at 7:30 and ended at midnight, so it was about four hours, if you believe it. The play is a musical (I don't know if Brecht intended that) featuring the band Duke Special. I hadn't heard of them, but they were pretty good. Still, it was an experience, and the tickets were free so what do I have to complain about, really? Oh, maybe the fact that it was four hours long. Four hours of meaningful storytelling is fine with me, but when its full of meaningless, throwaway characters and dialogue full of grand, overblown estimations of war and death with symbolism punching you in the face and vague, weirdly placed sexual innuendo that goes no where and does nothing except to make the audience smile awkwardly, unsure if they should laugh as characters with unpleasant upper bodies run around without shirts and with loose pants, but they only find out it all accomplishes nothing and then the end, when everyone dies and no one learns anything and yeah, that's war but if I have a war story I want a moral, I don't care if it's that war is great, I want growth, and though that can happen through death I'm not sure Brecht understands that death's impact causes growth, not death alone, but by the time I realize all this I'm looking at my watch hoping the tube will still be open because I've been watching this for FOUR STRAIGHT HOURS.

Sorry Petunia. You were very good if it's any consolation.

Today it rained, the first proper rain so far. I broke out the rain coat, and it was effective. I also looked like Lorenzo Lamas and women found me irresistable. Well, that part's just simply not true, but I like it.

Also, Patrick Swayze died and Kanye is a little rude. That is what happened in my world today. Night.

Je Ne Peux Pas Parler "Mint." Just Kidding. I Can.

You guys are lucky, you get so many pictures this week. Today is the visit to Westminster Palace, aka The Houses of Parliament. We got an hour long tour, and it was very interesting. They were pretty serious about security, so I only have pictures from the great hall inside Westminster. I have plenty of outside as well, though.

This is the view as we approached along the Thames. The Circle and District Lines are out for repair this weekend, basically cutting us off at the knees transportation-wise. So we had to take the Northern line from Warren Street...it was a big hassle, I assure you. But it was a nice day anyway.

These are the tents set up outside Westminster to protest things. They were not too inhabited when we passed, so I didn't get to see any fun characters. There is one guy, though, if you look closely.

This begins my treck around this little park, taking pictures of every statue. I don't remember all of their names, so if you can't read it on the plinth, I don't know it either. This, however, is obviously Nelson Mandela.

There was another statue of Churchill inside the House of Commons (that I couldn't photograph), but I like this one more. His grumpiness is so much funnier in a pleasant, park environment.

Thus begins my problems with lighting. I'm truly sorry, I tried my best. You can probably figure out what is pictured here, though.

This is a statue of Oliver Cromwell. I suppose he's meant to represent Parliamentary power in the face of the monarchy, but it's still a little weird to see him next to statues of Kings. Fun fact I learned on the tour: After Charles I stormed into the House of Commons to kill 5 MPs, no King or Queen has been allowed to set foot inside it.

Okay, so these pictures were taken after the tour, in the only room allowed to be photographed: the great hall. It is the oldest room in the Palace, however, and the only one not to be burnt down in the 19th century. Just recently they found Tudor tennis balls in the ceiling, probably hit there by Henry VIII. He may have been a worse tennis player than Catholic.

This unicorn banister is said to represent Scotland. I don't see it, but hey, there are worse things to be represented by.

Here's my series on the big stained-glass window at the end of the hall. The common factor: each picture is terrible.

And that is that. Next week is Oxford for my neuroscience class, so more pictures forthcoming. And...Mother Courage on Monday, and Troilus and Cressida sometime after that. So pictures of the Globe are on their way. I'm in the pit for this performance, which I'm really looking forward to. I have books to read and papers to write, so I'm off to do those things. I hope you enjoyed Westminster.

Shakespeare and Starbucks (And Tower of London, too!)

Hello everyone. I promised pictures of Southwark and the Tower of London, and so I deliver. Just a little geography and history for everyone: Southwark is on the south bank of the Thames, across from the City of London, and it was famous in Shakespeare's day for its theatres and red light district. It is said to be the foil to the City of London's focus on work; people come to Southwark to unwind. I'll fill in the other parts of the history as we move on. (Remember, the captions are above)

The tour started in the City of London, at the site of the Blackfriar Church. I don't have any pictures (it's just a courtyard now anyways), so this first picture is the Thames from the north side, just before we crossed under it into Southwark. Look close to find the London Eye!

Ah, it was so satisfying to finally get a picture of the Globe. I won't have any pictures of the interior until next time, but for now just appreciate it for its round glory. Of course, this isn't where the original Globe stood...

This is where the original Globe stood, and we know this since they preserved the ferryman's seat from the original theatre. This is the seat the ferryman who got everyone across the Thames for the performance would use. It now sits on the side of a Starbucks. About twenty feet from another Starbucks. During the tour, I was thinking that people 1000 years from now will not understand archaelogical records when they find two Starbucks that close. They'll think we all had very short-term memories. Or maybe they'll read this blog, and discover that one lone, brave voice saw the strangeness of it.

This is the door into remains of the old Rose Theatre, a competitor of the Globe that had to shut down for that very reason. Christopher Marlowe's plays were often performed here. We couldn't go inside; you need very special permission.

Here is where the Globe would have stood. The sign on the ground says "The Globe," sorry I couldn't get the shine out of it. I don't know how to, and I probably needed extra equipment.

Here is a sign commemorating the Globe that you probably cannot read. My apologies.

Fun fact: this is the pub overlooking the Thames that they say Samuel Pepys sat in and watched the Great Fire of London. Whether or not he gave patronage to the prostites afterward is anyone's guess.

And this is a recreation of the ship (The Gilded Lady, I think) that Drake sailed in...around the world, I think. I'm sorry I'm so unclear, the group didn't stop here and I had to take a picture instead of read the sign.

Okay, here's where it gets serious. By viewing these pictures you are violating a thousand ancient Biblical laws. This is Southwark Cathedral, where Shakespeare is buried, and I found out after only two pictures that you need a permit to take pictures. Some guy in a funny outfit told me so; I think he may have been a monk. So these pictures are precious and should not be squandered.

I'm just warning you, this may be the like the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. If you see these glorious works of God (without a permit), your face may melt off.

Because of the restriction of pictures, I couldn't take a picture of Shakespeare's tomb. There is a glorious stained glass window above that had all the important Shakespeare's characters. I don't have the energy to find a picture of it online, but I strongly suggest you look it up. There is a quote across the top from The Tempest that was wonderful. Look it up.

No permit needed for the outside, though, so look away. It was a nice day, though a little cold.

This is where we all had lunch, and where I finally had good fish and chips. The pub has been there since the 15th century, so I guess they had time to figure out how to do it right.

Okay, part two: Tower of London. I think everyone kind of knows the history of the Tower, so I don't need to go into it. Also, many of these pictures won't have captions since they don't really need any explanation. I will try to guide you through, however.

This is Watergate, or the Traitor's Gate, from the outside. I think I included this in my ferry pictures as well. Traitors were brought in through this gate and then beheaded. At high tide, the gate may have beheaded some of the taller prisoners itself.

Tower Bridge. I just like taking pictures of it, I guess.

White Tower. You will see it from many angles.

Pictured: my attempt at visual artistry

They had two helmets the guards would have worn displayed inside the Salt Tower (I checked, no Pepper Tower). It was smart of them to chain the helmets to the table, because if they didn't I would have stolen both in a hearbeat. No question.

Old and New London. In New London, they like to shape some buildings like bullets.

This was the exhibit in the White Tower. I'm pretty sure this is the same exhibit that was there four years ago when I visited. We couldn't take pictures inside, so this will have to do. Suffice it to say, Henry VIII required a lot of armor.

The Jewel Tower. It holds the Crown Jewels. I saw them, and they remained unchanged from the last time I saw them. Question: why is there a coronation spoon? Is there a coronation soup bowl? A coronation napkin? Some coronation crackers? A coronation mint? Okay, I'm done.

The Bloody Tower. And all that implies.

They played out the sentencing of Anne Bolyn. Spoiler alert: she's beheaded!

Okay, that's the Tower of London. At the point we had finished, we were exhausted, since we had been going since 9 and walking lots. However, before we left and went back I bought some presents for some little cousins o'mine. They will receive them soon!

Parliament tomorrow. Must rest. Night all.