[OPERA] Lucia di Lammermoor (Donizetti), ENO, 18.02.10

I'd seen this production before, but possibly with a different cast. Anna Christy was unsettlingly childlike and vulnerable as Lucia: the production really plays up her youth, as well as hints of more than brotherly interest from her wicked sibling.

Noteworthy things: excellent use of light and shadow (Alisa's shadow seeming to close the curtains); Lucia's white dress revealed in the mad scene as red with blood all down her right side. (Though her husband's corpse showed wounds on right, so was she behind him?); glass harmonica right there on stage, looking weirdly like some nineteenth-century 'medical' device. The whole production's reminiscent of an asylum.

On the whole I prefer Donizetti's comedies -- he writes such cheerful melodies and there's cognitive dissonance when the words are about death, madness, betrayal.

This time M and I sat in the upper circle, where the acoustics are so good you can hear the singers almost as clear and close as the coughing spluttering audience.

[theatre] Twelfth Night, Marlowe Dramatic Society, Arts Theatre, 20.2.10

Twelfth Night. Sadly, the Marlowe Dramatic Society doesn't keep its web presence up to date, and I forgot to pick up a cast list ...
There's a review and photos here. (A lovestricken Duke in skinny jeans and a moody clown with a cheap guitar bring Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night into the 21st century emo cult)

I liked this production a lot, though there was the usual problem with actors speaking unfamiliar language too quickly -- the younger members of our party didn't always get the gist of what was going on. (Also, dear audience, I don't care if it's a Saturday matinee; murmuring 'oh dear' every time something bad happens is not necessary.)

Feste in particular was excellent -- not a jolly clown, but an edgy fierce punkish (or Puckish) presence. Malvolio was also splendid. The set was good, too: an elderly Christmas tree, Sir Toby in Santa hat and battered red velvet, interesting lighting.

They did something strange with the ending that I'm not sure made sense: but then I was dosed up on cold meds and perhaps not as attentive as I might've been.

(Yes, the sly joke about Olivia's writing is Shakespeare:
By my life, this is my lady's hand: these be her very
C's, her U's, and her T's)