England VI: Oxford and Stratford again
Aug. 30th, 2006 07:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
selenakMore fannish gushing ahead!
After a hearty breakfeast the AP & self separated. He drove off to Winchester to retrieve his glasses, forgotten chez Edgar & Primrose, and I stayed to meet![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wychwood. We first went to the Bodleian Library, and she insisted I was to take the full tour, as some of the areas aren’t open to unguided tourists. Naturally, she was right. I did remember Divinity Hall with the magnificent ceiling which had letters as ornaments, but the library above, originated by Duke Humphrey, was new to me. It is glorious, a wooden cocoon of learning, with painted ceilings and full of the smell of old documents and scholarship. Fantastic. wychwood told me that the oldest books who are chained to the shelves are used for the Harry Potter movies, but alas, theyx weren’t visible. We did see the vacuum pipes through which orders for books arrive.
As is my inherited want, I tortured poor wychwood by making her climb towers, St. Mary’s first, which is the university church; it boasts of the best view in Oxford, and they’re probably right; you look over all the colleges in all directions, and feel faintly dissolving in all the beauty. Cunningly,wychwood said Cambridge was supposed to be prettier. I refused to give my allegiance, declaring I thought them both beautiful on equal terms. She told me that due to Cambridge’s colour being a bright blue and Oxford’s a dark one, they call each other The Faded Ones and The Dark Side respectively. The guide at the Bodleian used the term “the other place”. ‘Twas all adorable.
As Oxford was where both C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien taught, we went to the pub they and the other Inklings frequented, „The Eagle and the Child” (or, aswychwood told me, “The Bird and the Baby”, or even “The Falcon and the Foetus”), and drank a glass in their honour. Mineral water in my case. They would have been so disgusted with me. Anyway, the “Eagle and the Child” still is a real pub, several small rooms leading into each other, and we sat in the one which had a few photos of the Professors in question on the walls and thus was designated the very place where they met and talked of Beowulf and rings and elven things and presumably tobacco. It had a cozy rather than a museal aura, which was great.
The other pub which used to be frequented by laterly prominent folk I got to see when wychwood guided me through some very narrow ways; it was a small beergarden which boasted of Burton & Taylor and Bill Clinton having been there (though the the later, as the plate couldn’t help but mentioning, didn’t inhale.)
As W. studies archaeology and I have an amateur’s love for the subject, we went to the Ashmolean, whose ground floor is dedicated to antiquity. In addition to the usual busts and coins they have an entire Egyptian tomb there, not just the sarcophagus but the tomb proper. The Nubian pharao Taharqa’s, as it happens. I went around and was somewhere between appreciation and amusement at the brazen thievery by all the European nations in Egypt, starting with the Romans and certainly not ending with the British. The excentric who had originally donated the collection forming the core of the museum had assembled a wildly different area of artifacts, which was more properly visible in the first floor, where you had Leonardo sketches next to porcelain, and even a leather skin with sea shell embroidery reputed to have belonged to Powhatan, father of Pocahontas. I looked at the patterns formed by small white shells and felt profoundly sorry for the girl who ended up on these shores, as far as I know.
As far as the colleges are concerned, the Victorian Keble was the one I saw most off. In between we climbed on another tower, the one of St. Michael at the North Gate, and were promptly caught by a brief shower, which didn’t last long. At the end of the day, having met the AP in between, we were happy and exhausted back at my hotel.
Tuesday started with some work for me, which took place in the library of the Griffith Institute while Dad did some more sight seeing. We met at noon and then he surprised me by trying out that most Oxfordian of exercises, punting. Which means to take a boat and use a staff (or punt) somewhat similar to how the gondolieri in Venice do it. Dad had never done it before, so he gave me all his valuables and the camera on the notion that if he fell in the water, it wouldn’t get wet. Personally, I thought if he fell, the slim boat would fall over and I’d end up in the water as well, but hey. In any case, my AP mastered the art of “punting” admirably and soon glided between ducks and willow trees with the best of them. Now and then, we looked up because there were some clouds and we really couldn’t have used a shower then, but the sun prevailed.
After this watery adieu to Oxford, we were on our way to Warwickshire again, visiting Kenilworth, which I had noticed wasn’t that far from Stratford, and we did have the time. So we ended up seeing the ruins of the castle that was witness to the longest siege on English soil (the English otherwise having besieged a lot of castles on French soil, one assumes), with the defenders being the followers of Simon de Montfort after the lost battle of Evesham in the 13th century. (Thank you, Sharon Penman.) Despite trebouchards and a lot of other medieval nasties, they kept their castle for six months and surrendered only because of a) famine and b) having gotten the concession they’d get their forfeited land back. The other thing Kenilworth is famous for is, of course, Elizabeth (Tudor) visiting, and Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester owning it. There is an exhibition about the two of them in the gatehouse, and I have to admit the sight of Robin Dudley’s letter to her – which I had actually seen before, as it had been in display in the Elizabeth exhibition at Greenwich two years ago – the one he wrote shortly before his death and on which she wrote “his last letter” – made me feel a bit mushy. They knew each other since they were eight years old, and considering all the ups and downs in their relationship, considering that it remained for all these decades, they must have been each other’s best companions even if they couldn’t always work out the “lovers” part. Plus, as verbose as Elizabeth could be – that “his last letter” is an indirect love declaration in three words which always struck me as more sincere than all the courtly talk with her other favourites.
What amazed me about Kenilworth: it reminded me of Melrose Abbey in its red-stoned elegance, and probably was build in the same period, Elizabethan addendums aside. Considering we only have Canterbury and Leeds Castle to go on, it’s probably the last ruin I’ll see on this trip, and a splendid final note it was.
Our second RSC evening in Stratford offered Antony and Cleopatra, with Patrick Stewart as Antony and Harriet Walter as Cleopatra, this time in the “Swan” as opposed to the RSC main theatre. We had another good seat, not as far in front as the last time, row J, but considering the stage is in the middle and the rows surround it, we could see very well anyway, and more than once actors passed us on their way on stage, including Patrick Stewart. The AP, who is opposed to modern dress productions, was delighted that this one wasn’t one of them. I’m neutral on the subject with a slight preference to costumes, but I must say, I do think they were very fitting here. Though I have never seen the play on stage before, just a tv version a long time ago. I was amazed how many of the quick scenery changes which when reading the play I had assumed would come across as distracting and clumsy did just smoothly follow each other and resulted in an harmonious whole.
Patrick Stewart wasn’t the only actor who also is performing in The Tempest this season – Antonio played Enobarbus, Sebastiono played Octavius, Gonzalo played Lepidus, etc. Which didn’t distract – you believed eveyone in their respective roles, and I wouldn’t have recognized the actor playing Octavius at all if I hadn’t looked him up in the program. He did something interesting with the part, and so did the direction – instead of just coldly Machiavellian and/or coldly dignified, this Octavius was also high strung nervous and disturbed by his feelings for Antony. Who as played by Patrick Stewart wasn’t unlike a jaded and older version of Captain Jack Harkness, i.e. he flirted (at least a bit) with everything that had a pulse, and during the drunken festivities chez Sextus Pompejus either to mess with Octavius’ mind or just for the heck of it did kiss him briefly on the mouth. Which made Octavius’ fight against him later not just about power but because he felt himself jilted along with his sister; his reaction after Antony’s death didn’t come across as hypocritical but as genuine, because it was the result of an attraction he couldn’t admit.
But of course the heart of the play were the two lovers. Harriet Walter was amazing as Cleopatra; when reading the play, I thought this must be such a tough part to play, with the constant mood changes having to come across as irresistable instead of annoying, and she pulled it off completely. When Enobarbus said about her “age does not wither etc” you really believed him because you had seen Walter as Cleopatra before, and she had that “infinite variety”. It didn’t hurt that the chemistry between her and Patrick Stewart was sizzling, either. As for his Antony, he brought across both the hedonistic side and the charme and the awareness of his own decay, and then the shattering realization after the battle of Actium. You rolled your eyes about Antony occasionally, but you did understand why so many people cared for him. My father declared he thought Stewart as better as Antony than he had been as Prospero which I don’t think – plus the parts are too different to compare – but anyway, Dad was deeply impressed and is understanding of my fangirlism now.
The handmaidens Iras and Charmian weren’t a twin act but distinct personalities which is a rare thing. The production also used the invititation the play offers to go musical – there was song and dance both in Alexandria and as mentioned before during the Roman banquet, and it contributed to the atmosphere, coming across as more authentic than many a Hollywoodian dance. For these two theatre evenings alone, the trip to England would so have been worth it!
After a hearty breakfeast the AP & self separated. He drove off to Winchester to retrieve his glasses, forgotten chez Edgar & Primrose, and I stayed to meet
wychwood. We first went to the Bodleian Library, and she insisted I was to take the full tour, as some of the areas aren’t open to unguided tourists. Naturally, she was right. I did remember Divinity Hall with the magnificent ceiling which had letters as ornaments, but the library above, originated by Duke Humphrey, was new to me. It is glorious, a wooden cocoon of learning, with painted ceilings and full of the smell of old documents and scholarship. Fantastic. wychwood told me that the oldest books who are chained to the shelves are used for the Harry Potter movies, but alas, theyx weren’t visible. We did see the vacuum pipes through which orders for books arrive. As is my inherited want, I tortured poor wychwood by making her climb towers, St. Mary’s first, which is the university church; it boasts of the best view in Oxford, and they’re probably right; you look over all the colleges in all directions, and feel faintly dissolving in all the beauty. Cunningly,
wychwood said Cambridge was supposed to be prettier. I refused to give my allegiance, declaring I thought them both beautiful on equal terms. She told me that due to Cambridge’s colour being a bright blue and Oxford’s a dark one, they call each other The Faded Ones and The Dark Side respectively. The guide at the Bodleian used the term “the other place”. ‘Twas all adorable. As Oxford was where both C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien taught, we went to the pub they and the other Inklings frequented, „The Eagle and the Child” (or, as
wychwood told me, “The Bird and the Baby”, or even “The Falcon and the Foetus”), and drank a glass in their honour. Mineral water in my case. They would have been so disgusted with me. Anyway, the “Eagle and the Child” still is a real pub, several small rooms leading into each other, and we sat in the one which had a few photos of the Professors in question on the walls and thus was designated the very place where they met and talked of Beowulf and rings and elven things and presumably tobacco. It had a cozy rather than a museal aura, which was great. The other pub which used to be frequented by laterly prominent folk I got to see when wychwood guided me through some very narrow ways; it was a small beergarden which boasted of Burton & Taylor and Bill Clinton having been there (though the the later, as the plate couldn’t help but mentioning, didn’t inhale.)
As W. studies archaeology and I have an amateur’s love for the subject, we went to the Ashmolean, whose ground floor is dedicated to antiquity. In addition to the usual busts and coins they have an entire Egyptian tomb there, not just the sarcophagus but the tomb proper. The Nubian pharao Taharqa’s, as it happens. I went around and was somewhere between appreciation and amusement at the brazen thievery by all the European nations in Egypt, starting with the Romans and certainly not ending with the British. The excentric who had originally donated the collection forming the core of the museum had assembled a wildly different area of artifacts, which was more properly visible in the first floor, where you had Leonardo sketches next to porcelain, and even a leather skin with sea shell embroidery reputed to have belonged to Powhatan, father of Pocahontas. I looked at the patterns formed by small white shells and felt profoundly sorry for the girl who ended up on these shores, as far as I know.
As far as the colleges are concerned, the Victorian Keble was the one I saw most off. In between we climbed on another tower, the one of St. Michael at the North Gate, and were promptly caught by a brief shower, which didn’t last long. At the end of the day, having met the AP in between, we were happy and exhausted back at my hotel.
Tuesday started with some work for me, which took place in the library of the Griffith Institute while Dad did some more sight seeing. We met at noon and then he surprised me by trying out that most Oxfordian of exercises, punting. Which means to take a boat and use a staff (or punt) somewhat similar to how the gondolieri in Venice do it. Dad had never done it before, so he gave me all his valuables and the camera on the notion that if he fell in the water, it wouldn’t get wet. Personally, I thought if he fell, the slim boat would fall over and I’d end up in the water as well, but hey. In any case, my AP mastered the art of “punting” admirably and soon glided between ducks and willow trees with the best of them. Now and then, we looked up because there were some clouds and we really couldn’t have used a shower then, but the sun prevailed.
After this watery adieu to Oxford, we were on our way to Warwickshire again, visiting Kenilworth, which I had noticed wasn’t that far from Stratford, and we did have the time. So we ended up seeing the ruins of the castle that was witness to the longest siege on English soil (the English otherwise having besieged a lot of castles on French soil, one assumes), with the defenders being the followers of Simon de Montfort after the lost battle of Evesham in the 13th century. (Thank you, Sharon Penman.) Despite trebouchards and a lot of other medieval nasties, they kept their castle for six months and surrendered only because of a) famine and b) having gotten the concession they’d get their forfeited land back. The other thing Kenilworth is famous for is, of course, Elizabeth (Tudor) visiting, and Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester owning it. There is an exhibition about the two of them in the gatehouse, and I have to admit the sight of Robin Dudley’s letter to her – which I had actually seen before, as it had been in display in the Elizabeth exhibition at Greenwich two years ago – the one he wrote shortly before his death and on which she wrote “his last letter” – made me feel a bit mushy. They knew each other since they were eight years old, and considering all the ups and downs in their relationship, considering that it remained for all these decades, they must have been each other’s best companions even if they couldn’t always work out the “lovers” part. Plus, as verbose as Elizabeth could be – that “his last letter” is an indirect love declaration in three words which always struck me as more sincere than all the courtly talk with her other favourites.
What amazed me about Kenilworth: it reminded me of Melrose Abbey in its red-stoned elegance, and probably was build in the same period, Elizabethan addendums aside. Considering we only have Canterbury and Leeds Castle to go on, it’s probably the last ruin I’ll see on this trip, and a splendid final note it was.
Our second RSC evening in Stratford offered Antony and Cleopatra, with Patrick Stewart as Antony and Harriet Walter as Cleopatra, this time in the “Swan” as opposed to the RSC main theatre. We had another good seat, not as far in front as the last time, row J, but considering the stage is in the middle and the rows surround it, we could see very well anyway, and more than once actors passed us on their way on stage, including Patrick Stewart. The AP, who is opposed to modern dress productions, was delighted that this one wasn’t one of them. I’m neutral on the subject with a slight preference to costumes, but I must say, I do think they were very fitting here. Though I have never seen the play on stage before, just a tv version a long time ago. I was amazed how many of the quick scenery changes which when reading the play I had assumed would come across as distracting and clumsy did just smoothly follow each other and resulted in an harmonious whole.
Patrick Stewart wasn’t the only actor who also is performing in The Tempest this season – Antonio played Enobarbus, Sebastiono played Octavius, Gonzalo played Lepidus, etc. Which didn’t distract – you believed eveyone in their respective roles, and I wouldn’t have recognized the actor playing Octavius at all if I hadn’t looked him up in the program. He did something interesting with the part, and so did the direction – instead of just coldly Machiavellian and/or coldly dignified, this Octavius was also high strung nervous and disturbed by his feelings for Antony. Who as played by Patrick Stewart wasn’t unlike a jaded and older version of Captain Jack Harkness, i.e. he flirted (at least a bit) with everything that had a pulse, and during the drunken festivities chez Sextus Pompejus either to mess with Octavius’ mind or just for the heck of it did kiss him briefly on the mouth. Which made Octavius’ fight against him later not just about power but because he felt himself jilted along with his sister; his reaction after Antony’s death didn’t come across as hypocritical but as genuine, because it was the result of an attraction he couldn’t admit.
But of course the heart of the play were the two lovers. Harriet Walter was amazing as Cleopatra; when reading the play, I thought this must be such a tough part to play, with the constant mood changes having to come across as irresistable instead of annoying, and she pulled it off completely. When Enobarbus said about her “age does not wither etc” you really believed him because you had seen Walter as Cleopatra before, and she had that “infinite variety”. It didn’t hurt that the chemistry between her and Patrick Stewart was sizzling, either. As for his Antony, he brought across both the hedonistic side and the charme and the awareness of his own decay, and then the shattering realization after the battle of Actium. You rolled your eyes about Antony occasionally, but you did understand why so many people cared for him. My father declared he thought Stewart as better as Antony than he had been as Prospero which I don’t think – plus the parts are too different to compare – but anyway, Dad was deeply impressed and is understanding of my fangirlism now.
The handmaidens Iras and Charmian weren’t a twin act but distinct personalities which is a rare thing. The production also used the invititation the play offers to go musical – there was song and dance both in Alexandria and as mentioned before during the Roman banquet, and it contributed to the atmosphere, coming across as more authentic than many a Hollywoodian dance. For these two theatre evenings alone, the trip to England would so have been worth it!
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no subject
Date: 2006-08-30 05:24 pm (UTC)Which made Octavius’ fight against him later not just about power but because he felt himself jilted along with his sister; his reaction after Antony’s death didn’t come across as hypocritical but as genuine, because it was the result of an attraction he couldn’t admit.
THat's a very interesting way to play that. And I was kind of thinking along those lines should I ever write something in this era. Veeeery interesting.... I've always had the feeling that I liked Antony, but wanted to hit him with a large, heavy brick.
she had that “infinite variety”. It didn’t hurt that the chemistry between her and Patrick Stewart was sizzling, either. As for his Antony, he brought across both the hedonistic side and the charme and the awareness of his own decay, and then the shattering realization after the battle of Actium.
That sounds perfect. I can so see playing it this way. "awareness of his own decay" in not being the man he had been before, esp. compared to the eternal ghost of Caesar, unwithering and overwhelming.
The handmaidens Iras and Charmian weren’t a twin act but distinct personalities which is a rare thing.
Yes, not a twin act. Similar, as sisters can be, but more variations on a theme, reflecting and refracting their mistress and the same themes.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-30 08:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 12:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 05:37 am (UTC)Oh, the fact I don't drink alcohol has nothing to do with principles - I just don't like the taste, and I didn't see any reason to start just to conform.
Veeeery interesting....
As Jack Sparrow would say.*g* It made for a really intriguing dynamic between Octavius and Antony.
I've always had the feeling that I liked Antony, but wanted to hit him with a large, heavy brick.
Yup, that's it exactly. Also, hard not to melt despite it all when you have Stewart murmuring in that voice "I am dying, Egypt, dying".
no subject
Date: 2006-09-02 12:45 pm (UTC)My muse has taken over my brain! Aaaargh! Does that ever happen to you?
And I can see that it would! *g*
I've always had the feeling that I liked Antony, but wanted to hit him with a large, heavy brick.
Yup, that's it exactly. Also, hard not to melt despite it all when you have Stewart murmuring in that voice "I am dying, Egypt, dying".
*melt*
no subject
Date: 2006-09-02 02:15 pm (UTC)It does, which disturbs me if its the two guys in these icon with who aren't only verbose but prone to get lots of people killed...
no subject
Date: 2006-09-02 08:18 pm (UTC)I will remember to beware of you in that sort of mood!
I have just given in my muse's nagging to get From Hell, a movie I do not think I will like, but which my muse insists I will. I am skeptical, and will watch with a sofa pillow to put over my head, as I am notably squicked by violence. I have resisted all attempts to get me into the Body Shop to buy vast quantities of eyeliner, as I do not wear eyeliner, and I look funny in it. I do not wear mascara, as I have very dark long lashes. And I would look silly at work.
I think I need to do a poll post on Method Writing. Perhaps the sense of solidarity will make me feel less weird!
no subject
Date: 2006-09-03 05:26 am (UTC)Then there is the entire premise overthrown - Moore's comic isn't a Whodunit, which the film is, you already know who's done it in the first few pages, which are old age Abilene and the seer, also in old age, meeting shortly pre WWI, looking back. It's a whydonit. And it more or less indicts the entire Victorian age, not just one man. It's sharp and biting, and it doesn't idealize. The whores in the film, notably Mary Kelly, are either tarts with golden hearts or misunderstood victims. In the book, they're not "nice" - you don't survive as a whore in the East End by being nice, and they're ruthless and not above blackmail for their own benefit at all. Oh, and the bisexuality is gone in the film as well.
In a word: don't. Just don't. Read the book.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-03 07:32 pm (UTC)Though it does sound disappointing, the way you describe it.
Had a birthday party for
And I wrote another chapter of the New Orleans story. So a productive day. *waves*
Oh, and I unveil an icon for you *points above* Very meta.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-04 10:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-04 02:59 pm (UTC)ETA on the movie -- halfway through, and given the choice in the future to listen to your movie recs or
I do have one plot piece falling into place for rewrites on Fortune's Wheel, which is useful, as the drug chapter was weak. I see what I need to hit harder, at least. And some interesting thoughts on the Dionysian mode vis a vis the Enlightenment. So useful, but as a movie? Um. Nope. Clearly I need to listen to you.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-04 04:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-30 06:08 pm (UTC)The second pub sounds as if it might be the Turf Tavern? And my brother's college is Keble, after John Keble, a scholarly clergyman (who attended my college, his own not having been built at the time!)
no subject
Date: 2006-08-30 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 05:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-30 08:27 pm (UTC)*has nothing useful or coherent to say*
no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 05:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-30 08:42 pm (UTC)Did you get the posters you wanted from the RSC?
And, again: it was great getting to meet you, and I really enjoyed the day. Although my legs were unexpectedly stiff the next morning!
no subject
Date: 2006-08-30 08:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-30 09:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 05:43 am (UTC)Also, posters: I got the one from Antony and Cleopatra, but alas the Tempest one was out and the King Lear one featuring Ian McKellen wasn't out yet, since the play isn't shown until November.
And: Thank you! You were a great guide.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-30 08:50 pm (UTC)Do they call "trébuchets" "trebouchards"? And had you read this marvellous Wall Street Journal (http://www.csd.uwo.ca/~magi/personal/humour/General_Audience/A%20Scud%20It's%20Not,%20But%20the%20Trebuchet%20Hurls%20a%20Mean%20Piano.html) piece about them?
I absolutely need to see a picture of the AP punting; tell him I have the greatest respect for him now, and he will now figure next to Sebastian Flyte and Lord Peter in my (clean) punting fantasies.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 05:47 am (UTC)Wall Street piece: not yet.
I called Mark, and we're to meet today.
Also, there will be a picspam, but for you, here's an advance view of the AP punting:
no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 11:30 am (UTC)Delighted that you'll be seeing Mark. Do tell him about Stratford! And Bayreuth!
no subject
Date: 2006-08-30 08:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 05:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 11:34 am (UTC)Seriously, DO come. September is still very fine. And if you wanted to fit in some touring around France with a native guide, as long as you give me just a bit of notice, I'm your woman. Reading your terrific British travelogue made me realise I haven't seen a gazillion landmarks (from the Loire châteaux to Carcassonne) since I stopped taking holidays with my parents a lo-o-o-o-ng time ago.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 11:08 am (UTC)Elizabeth and Dudley - hmmm, I see you have the same romantic preferences in history as in fandom :-)
no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 01:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 03:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 07:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 11:49 am (UTC)The entire library was used for the Harry Potter movies ... except for the fact that someone stole some of their books. Bastards, bastards I tell you.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 01:37 pm (UTC)