Arcadia

We got up rather earlier than we really wanted to on Sunday, and went off to meet carbonel at Taste of India for brunch. There was shrimp masala, with which I happily stuffed myself; also samosas and a vegetable curry and nan.

We got to Theatre in the Round in plenty of time to claim the tickets. Eric and Lydy went off in search of coffee, and brought some back for me, so I was both properly nourished and mostly awake for the production.

We had front-row seats to the right of and almost behind the arbor-with-seat that designated the way into the garden. The rest of the set was a gigantic wooden table and some chairs, pretty much as per the stage directions. The various century-spanning props lay on the table. Eric was much interested in a device that looked to him somewhat like a spectrograph, and it was suggested that he could get a closer look at it during the intermission, since we would have to cross the stage to get back to lobby and restrooms anyway. But just as the lights dimmed, someone bore the device away, and it never reappeared. A chance line in the play caused us to decide that it was probably a theodolite.

I thought the production was very good indeed. Most of the casting was inspired. I was particularly taken with Valentine, who was the cutest geeky type imaginable, and had a trick of posture that made him resemble the tortoise. I also admired Hannah tremendously: she had a lovely deep voice and really fine strictly-contained tense body language that occasionally exploded and more occasionally relaxed as the movement of the narrative dictated. Septimus was staggeringly pleasing to look upon, curly locks and riding boots and very good posture, and with a voice flexible enough for the part, to evoke laughter or tears. Thomasina was a little waspish creature in a white dress with cherry-colored ribbons. The British accents were -- well, I don't truly know enough to say if they were authentic, but they were mostly consistent. Valentine fell out of his once or twice, but not devastatingly. Thomasina's was sufficiently authentic and nasalized that sometimes it was not easy to understand her. I was glad that we were in the front row and that I knew the lines. As with a Shakespeare play, however, one got used to her way of speaking after a bit. Her mannerisms were splendidly done. I also quite adored Lady Croom, who was played by a well-aged and still tremendously sexy woman with a very grand manner and a devastating wit -- I mean, the lines provide this, but she really suited them wonderfully. Bernard was fascinating, both more and less sympathetic than a mere reading makes him. Afterwards lydy, who had neither seen nor read the play previously, asked, "So, if there are correspondences between the 19th- and the 20-century characters, is Bernard Byron?" I had never thought of it ,but I think she is right.

I've read the play four or five times, as well as participated in play-readings where it was done, as pegkerr mentioned when she discussed her viewing of this same production. I've only seen it once, however, so I don't have a lot of observations about the uniquenesses of this production. My main thought that I had not had before was that, in the play, sex is a much more entertaining and less fraught object in the 19th century than in the 20th, which is not precisely the usual view.

I don't feel I'm doing the production justice; people should feel free to ask questions, and if eileenlufkin (who met us there, along with Martin) or arkuat or carbonel or lydy or ddb would like to comment, I'd be delighted.

Pamela