Category Archives: Odds & Ends

Theatre Magic – Seven Scenes from Show Business

“Let’s meet at the office,” says D., our producer. The “office” is Muffinsky’s, in Covent Garden, where the first one to arrive grabs the table by the back window, overlooking St Paul’s Church.  The Actors’ Church.  D. pulls out the … Continue reading

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Autumn as a Touchstone

I asked to have my latte at my usual small round table just outside the door, on the step above the pavement, while the weather still allows it.  Soon, it will be too cold or too wet, and I will … Continue reading

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River Voices

Let me speak to you about rivers*. The sea is the protagonist of plays, symphonies and operas.  The sea is a power than can break man, and man has wrestled with the sea, trying to tame it, since the dawn … Continue reading

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In Grantchester.

My friend C. has a sticker on her vehicle, which says, “My other car is a broom”.  She keeps it by the back door, ready to sweep out dust and other unwanted dirt.  To keep the house clean from unpleasant … Continue reading

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Turandot – A Story of Redemption

One of my favourite operas – if not my actual favourite – is Turandot.  Inspired by the Persian fairy tale Turan-Dokht, it was Giacomo Puccini’s swansong, left unfinished at his death and completed by Franco Alfano. There is something profoundly different about … Continue reading

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Three Women in the Kitchen

Three women in a South-West London kitchen, on a scorching summer afternoon.  The only cool room in the house.  Only the red setting sun peers through these windows. Three women in a South-West London kitchen.  One, in the early Spring … Continue reading

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Sunday at the Globe

Focussing my thoughts is proving impossible, this weekend.  Like trying to corral cats.  They dart across the room, bounce off the walls, whizz past me before I can catch them, hover before my eyes, teasing, then spiral upwards at vertiginous … Continue reading

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Deciphering the Music Code

Saturday morning.  My friend L. and I are on the ‘phone, arranging one of our brunches in Notting Hill.  Her soft Irish tone turns businesslike.  “Now do you want to come up for your lesson before or after brunch?” I … Continue reading

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Trees as Story-Hoarders

Someday, I would like to live near a weeping willow. “You’re mad! It’ll wreck your water pipes!” My beloved friend S., with her bucketful of sobering practicality.  “Their roots are so long, they’ll reach out from the bottom of your … Continue reading

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Skiving Off

Something woke me up earlier than usual, this morning.  It was the light pushing through my curtains.  It had a different colour and texture than of late.  I switched on Radio 4, negotiated myself out of bed, and approached the … Continue reading

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