Thursday 1 June 2017

Not Woyzeck

Last Saturday was supposed to be the day for a matinée performance of Woyzeck at the Old Vic. Off to a good start by remembering to turn right out of Waterloo Station, instead of left for the National Theatre.

Into the small park opposite the theatre, just the ticket for a summer picnic, more or less clear of winos on this occasion.

Into the theatre bar to be served wine by a cheerful German girl, inclined to do little dances on the spot when she had nothing better to do.

Into a reasonably full theatre proper. Then about 15 minutes into the play, somebody came on stage and asked us all to leave the building and head down Baylis Road to the Imperial War Museum. We were in the middle of a bomb scare.

Some hours later with there being little news on offer, and time was running out for resumption of the performance, we decided to break ranks and wander back to the theatre, via Lower Marsh, as Baylis Road was still taped off, to find that the scare was winding down with the various police, fire and rescue vehicles pulling out. But theatre still firmly locked.

After about half an hour, the theatre staff returned and I was able to button hole one who took the time to explain what was going on. At which point we went home to a fine salmon salad, which a cynic might describe as tinned salmon with boiled rice. But tinned salmon is fine if you take the trouble to take all the bits and bobs out.

The theatre has been very good and the tickets have now been swapped and the interval drinks have been reinstated. Which is good, as they were quite dear, maybe £12 for a coup de blanc, as Simenon would say - although, thinking aloud, he would probably have had something smaller in mind. Would have to have had, given that he was writing about a working policeman, doing one at regular intervals through the day.

PS: not yet convinced that the translation of the play from the Prussian (?) army of the early nineteenth century to the British army of the late twentieth century was either necessary or satisfactory, but judgement on that point had better wait until we see it through.


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