Back to blighty...
Tonight is the last performance of the show, on this tour at least, it will be going out again in the Autumn to a selection of UK theatres and out into europe again. It is profoundly to be hoped that at some point they will decide that they have actually finished the blasted thing, after eleven weeks of rehearsal (a very, very, long rehearsal period by UK standards), and seven weeks on tour, today is the first working day when I haven't had to go in for rehearsals. Back to the UK tomorrow, with truck unloading and returns all day monday, it will be a relief to have done with it for the time being.All that remains is the dubious pleasure of the pompidou centre get-out, which involves many labyrinthine corridors and much macho posturing with forklift trucks, trollys, dollys and all manner of wheeled things, and in consequence takes about twice as long as it needs to. When we did the get-in, I was nearly mowed down by a grinning idiot using a pallet truck as a sort of heavy metal skateboard, the corridors are very long and unusually well finished concrete, so you can certainly build up some speed. Now, when I hear the clattering of metal wheels on concrete I have learned to flatten myself against the wall as a precautionary measure.
As I was preparing the truck for loading, I was all alone in the loading area, this is where coaches and so forth are left, having disgorged their cargos upstairs. For some reason a decision had been made to pump music into this cavernous space, presumably to sooth the beating hearts of french coach drivers, this being an arts venue, the muzak was provided by a tasteful french classical music station. So, as I was shuffling stuff around, and wrestling with the bloody bouncy castle, the music echoing round the room was Elgars' 'Pomp and Circumstance March', ending with a rousing chorus of 'Land of Hope and Glory'. Not really what I would have expected, but then Paris is full of contrasts and surprises.
Final note about the pompidou centre, we have all been getting flea bites since working there, I did wonder if the caveman costumes were responsible, but as they are 100% synthetic (albeit very smelly), I have my doubts. The french do take their little dogs everywhere, so maybe that's the reason.
As I walked back to the hotel this morning I was quietly amused by a super cool afro-caribbean dude; tight white t-shirt, dreads and mirror shades, chillin' in a doorway with a spliff. For me, the ensemble was somewhat let down by an unbelievably fluffy white poodle wearing a pink diamante collar, whose lead he was holding with the other hand. You see many incongruous pairings of dogs and owners here, possibly because the french seem either to go for small and fluffy, or big and fierce, with little or nothing in the medium range.
posted by Lampy @ 6/24/2006 02:07:00 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home