13 February 2015

Twas the night before Valentine’s, and I was off to see a play about sex, jealousy, obsession and death. Probably a good thing I didn’t have a boyfriend to take with me (even if the couple I did go with didn’t seem to have a problem). And it was pissing down with rain, which is more of an issue than you might have been thinking since the Rose isn’t heated (thank god they give out blankets)*. Continue reading


Let him seek danger where he was to find fame


This letter in the Guardian, about the dangers of the stage, got me thinking about why live theatre is so exciting and it is, undeniably, because of the danger. I don’t mean – in this Health and Safety conscious age – the actual physical danger*, but more just the knowledge that things are unpredictable and the end has not already been filmed.

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