Another winter almost gone

This was meant to come out last week except unwellness to my family and now I slowed it down.  Extra household duties arose when three of our household were struck down, leaving one on crutches and I.   Getting to the end of it now so should be back to normal soon.   Another excuse to limit Bridge to Brisbane preparation, so will just start the way I am and hopefully get to the other end in time for Gma’s birthday brunch.

This addition is mainly a review of “Other Desert Cities” and some comments about the merits of live theatre. Here goes

Deceit in the Desert

“Other Desert Cities” by Jon Robin Baitz was put on by the Queensland Theatre Company in collaboration with the Western Australia Theatre Company.  This play is sset in Palm Springs, USA in the 1980’s.  The action takes place in the home of Lyman and Polly Wyeth on Christmas Eve.  Their daughter Brooke, an author, and son Trip, a reality TV  host, have come to visit to help celebrate Christmas.  Silda, Polly’s sister, is living with them as a reformed alcoholic.  Lyman was an actor, then became involved in politics, a republican who classes Ronald Reagan as his friend.  Polly was a writer as was her sister , Silda.  Brooke published her first and last book six years ago and has since been struggling with depression and the like.  She has now written a memoir about the family, has a publisher lined up and is seeking the blessing of her parents before going to print.

Hence the scene, a family full of artistic personalities and differing political viewpoints coming together at that emotional time of the year.

Brooke’s book is mainly about a part of family history that is generally taboo in polite conversation.  To assist in getting the “facts” right Brooke uses her aunt who has a loathing for her sister.   

With lots of tension in the air, all manner of family secrets come to light.

The interval took its time to turn up accentuating the slow start to the show.  For some it must have been too much as three in the seat in front of me did not return.  There was action aplenty in the second part as twists and turns continued to keep me engrossed.   Earlier, when I had ample time to think, I wondered what conclusion would eventuate.  I had no idea and would not have got close with three guesses.  When it came, it was the perfect ending.

The set was superb.  Perfect for putting me in an affluent central west american home looking out onto a desert landscape as morning turned to day then dusk to night.

The acting was loud and out there as the playwright might demand.  It seemed the older three were more polished  while the young ones may have been a tad over-the-top, which could well be in keeping with the play.

For me the script scored ten out of ten for those looking for a commentary on US conservative values of the eighties with a healthy dose of family relations thrown in.   It raises the questions of truth and historical perspectives - how history can be vastly different depending on what you know and what you don’t.  How okay is it to live a lie when doing so can damage those close to you, albeit unwittingly, but exposing the truth can hurt your reputation, destroy your social standing and put someone you love in danger?  It was a great reminder that the “truth” will find its way to the surface regardless of how hard you try to cover it up.

“Other Desert Cities” as a title purportedly comes from a sign on the way to Palm Springs  that says “Palm Springs” one way, “Other Desert Cities” the other.  Perhaps a hint that the play may not be what it seems at first glance.  Regardless, I thoroughly enjoyed the play once the momentum was achieved.

Why go to the theatre?

When I was about to leave for the play briefing on “Other Desert Cities”, my son asked me why I would go to a play preview, indeed why would I go to a play.  I gave some half-baked  response about seeing stars up close.  When I got to the briefing, the question got there before me.  Wesley Enoch, QTC Artistic Director, and the acting cast provided me with a much clearer response.  I hope the following summary of their input can do it some justice.

Apparently, the aim of the players in ancient Greece was to capture the souls of those in the audience, take these souls on a journey and return them at the end of the performance.   So you go to live theatre to give your soul a break from everyday living thus  revitalising the whole you to better cope with the tasks ahead.   When the actors were discussing the difference for them between live theatre and TV or movies, it was clear that each theatre performance is unique as the response of the audience contributes to the actors portrayal of the part they were playing.  Rebecca Davis (Brooke) was asked why she took up acting.  She described her experience as a young girl going onto the stage a a particular performance and just sitting there enjoying the magic that still hung in the air long after the show had ceased.   It is this invisible aura that draws people to live theatre.  In the movies, you know when an actor does a superb performance, but try describing why that performance was so much better than those around them or indeed their previous performance.   That is why I go to the theatre, to be part of “ordinary” actors producing oscar winning performances.

Swimming Challenge

I did manage 8 laps of our cool pool in August - could have easily done more but did not want to push my luck with the wogs engulfing our house at present.  The extra warm August helped so should be no excuses in September.

Time breezes on

Footy finals are on us, it must be close to spring, elections, then back to a full house, ending our career as school parents, end of Chemo , Christmas, and soon after, only big people at this house.

"Trollop" Review

It was too late to include two reviews in my July contribution so have added an early August update to include review of "Trollop" which Mary-Anne and I took in last night.  Here it is for anyone interested.  Highly recommended for anyone who enjoys different theatre and can cope with confrontational theatre.

Trollop Review

We were part of the preview audience of Maxine Mellor’s “Trollop” put on by Queensland Theatre Company last night.   Thankfully we had the opportunity to scan the program while   waiting as such knowledge provided for a greater appreciation  of the developments on stage.   When we were introduced to the four co-directors/designers before the play, it seemed odd to have four “bosses” while only three actors.   This was easily accounted for by the end of the show.

The play centres around an unemployed writer (Clara) who is reluctant to seek other jobs.  She stays at home (her boyfriend Erik’s apartment) all day where she is bombarded by the news of destruction all around.   A large flood has affected the area although leaving her home untouched.   

Erik manages to convince her to write another pop-up children’s book and is happy to oblige when she seconds him into collecting a variety of weird materials that she needs.

The action on stage certainly confronts.   Words and actions seem deliberately chosen to give the “in your face” effect.  Much would have made less sense without the pre-reading, nonetheless, a bit of head scratching was still required.   Perhaps to strategically reflect the “other world” that long term unemployed can find themselves drifting into when surrounded by constant negativity.

It was well past half way in the play before the third actor, Eugiene entered.  When she did, a whole new dimension was added with the inclusion of religion, sex and drugs.  From here it was particularly difficult to discern between “reality” and “fantasy” - the effect of alcohol and pot being indulged in by the characters might have dispersed to the audience - was it sex or salvation being peddled?

The ending mimicked the other parts of the play screaming “what is the point?”   Maybe that was the desired effect.   As a regular season ticket holder over the past few years, I can not count the number of times that I have walked away from shows put on by QTC with the assertion “wow, that was different”.  Certainly this applied to “Trollop”.

In contrast to “1001 Nights”, I am not sure if I “enjoyed” this play.  I certainly was glad that I went.   The stage effects were extraordinary - no wonder four directors/designers were required.  Other aspects might have overshadowed the efforts of the actors who might have performed brilliantly or ordinarily depending on what they were trying to portray.   In keeping with the play overall, I gave up trying to discern what the writer intended to be obvious and what might have been implied.

As time goes by

It seems ages since the inclination and endeavour  to add to this blog came together.   So much  new things of significance to me have happened in that time, including:

• 5 days of a wonderful family holiday at the Sunshine Coast - Grandma joined us in an adjoining unit , we all enjoyed a break from schools, uni and hospitals
• 40 laps in a big warm pool over 4 days - using this as a substitute for a few laps in a cool pool
• Fishing and watching fishing - nothing to eat but fun for the boys
• 105 holes of golf ( 87 in an 8 day period with Andy & Jeff to ensure Jeff had his fix of golf before his impending long break as he gets used to his new steel leg bone)
• Jeff’s femur replacement - a big op that kept the surgeons happy, the lump of steel should set the airport alarms off
• Ben & Tanya’s engagement party at Canungra - a big bright affair that went off well
• A wonderful weekend in Adelaide with Andy where footy was the focus and Port had an impressive win over Collingwood - lucky enough to stay in a flash hotel
• Semester 2 started at Nudgee and Uni - now starting to sink in
• Parent/ teacher interviews with Andy’s teachers to get a heads up on what has been happening and is to happen in Year 12
• “1001 Nights” with Mon (see brief review below)
• Numerous Skypes with Katie in Italy seems like she was just around the corner
• Hickling family reunion in Warwick at Uncle Terry’s 50^th anniversary of being a priest- very well represented with each family there- some of us had to rush off in time to get back to see the Lions beat the Suns at the Gabba
• Andy’s first rugby match on Ross after a few years absence - a bit different from aussie rules
• Fiesta did a coil and a tyre in separate incidents - gives Andy an indication of costs of running a car
• Andy featured in Nudgee Rock Band 2 at St Rita’s Fete - first time away from Nudgee, more to come shortly
• Andy’s formal - all gents and ladies scrubbed up well
• Lots of thinking and talking about training for the Bridge to Brisbane - hoping to rely on a lot of muscle memory from a long time ago

Additionally , quite a few things remained the same, e.g.

• Queensland won another State of Origin series - on their way to ten in a row
• Aussie batsmen get out cheaply - about to break that habit in the third test
• Lions, Bombers and Port won some footy games and lost some others - maybe two out of three will play finals
• Phil Taylor keeps winning at darts- just when he was thinking of retiring
• Getting organised is much more a thought than a deed with positive thinking working its way forward.

“Ancient Tales Refreshed”

We went along to “1001 Nights” as part of our season ticket membership with Queensland Theatre Company.   Without any clue about the show, we were pleasantly surprised.   It was a refreshing experience, probably one of the most  enjoyable theatre shows that I can remember.   It seemed a pity that Bille Brown was less that two-thirds full as the deserved full house would have accentuated the atmosphere created.   Maybe being a Thursday night and the first of the shows was an excuse?

Essentially “1001 Nights” is a series of short Arabian stories tied together.  Some of these were familiar tales – Ali Baba, and Alladin, although with details not quite as I remember.   The other tales:- Sherazade & Shahriyar; The Genie & the date stone; Sidi Nouman; The Little Hunchback”; Father of Farts; and , Envious Sisters, were of similar style but varying plots.   Despite some of the stories being ridiculously fanciful, that did not stop me from sharing the mesmerised attention of the sultan in the first story who remained enchanted  for the 1001 nights of the play’s duration before seeing the light.

It was incredible how the minimal props used to garnish the tales worked with the expressions and movements of actors to bring the stories to life.   The five actors were joined by three musicians who used a variety of quaint instruments to produce an extraordinary resemblance of the sounds of ancient middle east as set in my mind.

Storytelling was an ancient art form that targeted the heart rather than the head of each in the audience.   It is easy to see how those endowed with this gift can be just as powerful today as they would have been way back then.

It made for an enjoyable evening escape into a fantasyland where laughter, sadness, magic and wondering submerged the normality of daily life.  Thanks, QTC. 

Hit the target

My aim this time was to put up a theatre review within 24 hours.  Depending on how quickly I get this done, I will have hit the mark it being 9:30pm last night that I returned home.  It was only an hour or so before that I decided to go, initially not going due to State of Origin then not going as Jeff was in hospital then being too worn out.  I went and was glad I did.  Thankfully I managed to have a super quiet day at home today to recover.  Along with the theatre review there is a miss mash of comments prepared in the gap on the assumption that there would be space to fill.   Hoping it is not too long.  The finishing touches are being put together at half-time in the Bombers vs West Coast.

Blogging on the family

Since my last post, my daughter Katie has started up a blog featuring first impressions of Italy (http://kissescaloriesandchaos.blogspot.com.au/2013/06/first-impressions.html?spref=fb).  Part of my inspiration for blogging came from my sister Linda’s blog sharing her self discovery (only my inadequate ability to navigate cyberspace has prevented me from posting a link).  Is blogging hereditary? Is it a bug that spreads?  Is it  a relaxing form of self expression?  Is it a compulsion to document and share?  Or (e) all of the above?

How hard it is

In much of what I have been reading recently, it seems that being “present” is a beneficial practice for both you and those involved with you.  How hard it is  to be “present”.  How hard it is to “just be there for someone” – not thinking about me and what I would do; not getting involved in a book on the side or a TV show; not remembering about what it was like yesterday or last year; not thinking about what tomorrow may bring – just being there alert and ready to respond as the situation requires.   I have made a conscious effort a fair bit lately and generously give myself 3 out of 10 when in form. 

How easy it is

I was chuffed when my exercise/diet  regime bore the success that I sought.   As reward, i gave myself some leniency for a wee while.  When I reassessed my lifestyle it eventuated that exercise and diet worked well together and should form an integral part of my future.   How easy it is to make that decision yet maintain the form that I had lapsed into.   How easy it is to maintain the status quo while finding excuse after excuse to eat and sit.   Maybe signing up for the Bridge 2 Brisbane will generate a specific target date and goal that will make it easy to include more exercise in my daily routine.

How sweet is compromise

Last year I aimed for a dip in our pool at least once a month (min 8 laps = 100m).   If it was not for excuses, I nearly achieved that.  I upped the ante for 2013, viz. 80 laps on the first day of every month.  I made it to May then excuses again reared their ugly head to take out the 1^st of June.   When a beautiful sunny day appeared mid-June, the target was back on track when I managed 24laps.  The plan was to go until it began to hurt sufficiently.  I am sure I could have gone further but managed to use the excuse that it would be best to pull out then to maximise benefits to my family and the rest.   Compromise is indeed a beautiful thing.  I wonder what July will serve up.  

It can pay to speak up

Recently I got a ticket for parking too long in Coles while at a Lions game. I felt a bit gipped as I went to some pains to minimise risk.   Resigned to paying the $65 fine, I enclosed  a note with the cheque and sent it away.   Lo and behold, in due time the cheque came back with a note saying the fine was quashed as I given a sufficiently good reason.  The twenty minutes of effort was worth it, perhaps I will speak up more often.

Different thought patterns can work together

We have taken up doing the daily papers simple crosswords.   Mostly it is a joint effort between Mary-Anne and I, with Mon sometimes contributing on the side.   Many times we have found that while either of us can start and be stumped, when we work together we are much more successful.   It is refreshing to discover the entirely different options that the same clue can generate.  It provides further evidence that two heads working together are better than those heads working singularly.

Once a bridge player always a bridge player

As part of my home distraction plan, I visited my local bridge club.   My last game of bridge was beyond my living memory so I was a little apprehensive.  I need not have worried.   My ability to play remained despite being a little rusty, my enjoyment was also rekindled.  It goes to show that bridge has more in common with bikes than their common letters.

Gain from the pain

In a conversation with my podiatrist while suffering some discomfort, she informed me that if she did not cause pain she was not doing her job properly.   Ashe seems to need to balance the pain she inflicts with the long term good it will do.  So far I am very happy with her work.   Current observations of patients undergoing chemo have me wondering about the capacity of medical professionals to judge the extent of distress their patients can bear while maximising the efficacy of the treatment they prescribe.   In these cases is it better for them to have extra or reduced capacity to empathise with others?

Free time is essential?

In last weekend’s Australian Magazine an article espoused the need to have a minimum of seven hours “free time” a day to “feel truly contented and rested”.  Free time is time for yourself to just be you and doesn’t count sleep.  Apparently we used to get that in 1995 but this has slipped to a little over four hours.   Despite reservations about the measurement and the target, the prospect of being a better “you” being important fits in with other recent enlightments.  How will we be able to legislate to ensure everyone get a minimum personal time?  Perhaps there should be a minimum amount of billboard space and TV advertising time reminding us that we can only be a better we if you are a better you.

The subservient can have the most pleasure

I nearly did not get to the theatre this month but circumstance saw me forego the State of Origin to enjoy my daughters company at a play.   I have provided a short review below for theatre buffs but thought it worth sharing with a wider audience the reminder that “pain does not equal less pleasure” and “often the dominant figure is not always in control”.

That fulfils my blogging appetite for the present.  Cheers.

Pleasure for the pain - a review of "Venus in Fur"

“Venus in Fur” by David Ives is based on the book of the same name (in German) written in 1870 by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch whose name led to the term “masochism”.   It is a two handed play starring Todd MacDonald (Thomas) and Libby Munro (Vanda).  The story line is simply where a Director (Thomas) auditions women for the lead role in the play “Venus in Fur”.  Yes it is a play about itself.  After a long and unproductive day of auditions, a late arrival Vanda, coincidently the name of the star in the play, makes her entrance and that’s where the fun begins.   Thomas is looking for a dominating feminine woman and Vanda delivers in spades.   She is in control from the start.  Thenceforth, the audience is left wondering where is the distinction between the play and the auditioning as they shift seamlessly from one to the other.  Occasional witty remarks, from Vanda of course, provide a semblance of distinction.

The physical appearances of the actors reflects the real life scenario being played out – Vanda remains calm and collected despite her energetic outbursts while Thomas is reduced to a drivelling wreck with sweat pouring from his brow.  Throughout this intense episode of tastefully depicted sensual experience, perfectly placed pinches of humour break the potential heaviness of a dark subject.   If my feelings were shared by the audience, they left refreshed and reminded that often all is often not as it seems, with pleasure coming from pain and dominant figures not always in control. 

For me it was an excellent piece of theatre showcasing brilliant actors who presented a delicate subject in an engrossing yet entertaining manner.  Highly recommended if coarse language does not offend.

On the Blog again

I nearly got this theatre review within 24 hours of seeing the play thus leaving some room for improvement next time.  Apart from theatre, some of the things I thought worthy of recording include: fitting into wedding suit; coming to grips with a chemo regime; Katie’s closeness on Skype; positivity lessons that keep on coming; and acceptance of what is out of your control.

Mother Courage Causes Consternation

Queensland Theatre Company’s production of “Mother Courage and her Children” provides a different theatre experience.   Bertolt Brecht wrote the play in 1939 in Europe with World War II in the air.    Welsey Enoch and Paula Nazarski translated this, with an indigenous take, to the future in an Australia where warring mining companies destroy the environment.   The play spans a few years and centres on the fortunes of an aboriginal mother who makes a living by traveling around  country selling whatever (including alcohol, food, boots and clothes) to whomever, mainly those involved in the war.

As is the Brecht style, everything is full on, leaving little to the imagination.   The audience is told what is going on all the way.   Song is added in sufficient doses to give cause to wonder if this is a musical while exposing some excellent singers and musicians amongst the cast.   Exaggerated randomness abounds.   As well as providing a commentary on war, standard life lessons are interspersed almost as add ons.   Frankness is front and centre.  Punches are left unpulled, be it in humour or violence, death or desire.   

The characters share the blunt intensity of the background in which they are set with the exception of Mother Courage.    She seems perfectly portrayed as someone who can be as hard or as soft as the situation demands snaring the only setting in which subtlety can be savoured.   

I was thankful to have attended this production.   I left amazed at the unlikeness to any previous show, touched by its moments of tenderness and jarred by its harsh depiction of a world to come.

Presumably the timing to coincide with AFL’s indigenous weekend of footy and wider indigenous awareness activities was no accident. As a person with limited exposure to Australian indigenous culture, I wondered how it would be taken in by the indigenous community.   While it seemed that all the key players, including the dozen actors, were indigenous, I was unable to ascertain whether it aimed at laughter, criticism, learning or simply reflecting their reality.  My superficial enjoyment would no doubt be replaced by other emotions in those more deeply affected.   

Made the fit

My self imposed waist reduction program to be able to fit into my wedding suit was a painless success.   One of the suit buttons only needed to be moved a little bit for me to be comfortable at my niece's wedding recently.  We might have to look for other occasions to get dressed up if I can maintain the shape.  Not a lot of exercising has been going on these days although making a conscious effort on the hospital stairs.   There is some talk around the family about taking in the  Bridge to Brissy for Lizzy this year - that might require some preparation.  I managed to get the full kilometer in on first of May but am expecting the water on the first of June to be a lot cooler with excuses waiting on my finger tips.

Chemo coping

We are now into week two of the second chemo cycle   Being on the sidelines ready to help can be a distraction from day to day living which easily provides excuses for not doing other things.   I like to think that I am practicing “being” instead of “doing” while torn between having a real go and looking to put more structure back into my time.   With another  four full cycles plus surgery to come, there will be lots of opportunity to find out. 

How unreal is Skype?

The other night we spoke to Katie in Italy on skype.  I am still getting over how close she looked.  It was hard to imagine that she is halfway around the world.  To remind me that she is indeed a long way away, I tidied her room to transform it into a potential “space for me”.   Still to move a computer up there to maximise the options.  No rush as a long way away from doing any meaningful mental activity.   Having had a bit of a cold a few days ago, it also served as a quarantine room to keep away from Jeff.

Positivity Lessons continuing

I always thought that I looked on the bright side of life.   My attitude is continuing to brighten as I witness  first hand what really being positive is all about. 

Acceptance of what is out of your control

We had a weekend away to be at my niece’s wedding at Tamborine.  We had a disturbed sleep the night before as Jeff was not particularly well.  On the basis that there was nothing we could do to help him and his assurance that he would be fine, we continued with Plan A.   We resisted any temptation to call home and enjoyed a very pleasant weekend break.  All was fine when we got home on Sunday.   it was only some time later that we realised that Saturday night was his worst night that would not have been any better if we had been there.   It was a timely reminder of the benefit of not worrying about what you cannot control.

Back after coming to grips with current situation

It has been a long time between posts.   Maybe just because it has been a long time between plays or maybe it has been a bit distracting dealing with chemo in the family.   Whatever, I have learnt a lot in that time including: a more efficient way to learn to keep calm; transitioning from cricket to footy seasons; what it feels like to pass my driving instructor test; how difficult it is to stop parenting grown ups; and why I prefer AFL to rugby.  I will start with a review of our latest play and see how the rest pans out.

Red resurrects reality

We attended the preview of John Logan’s “Red” at the Playhouse on Monday night.  Most times we attend the play briefings before the play and have found these very interesting and informative.  However, not this time and by opting for a hot chocolate instead of checking out the program, we sat blissfully unaware about the show.  Our departure from the norm was heightened by Wesley Enoch’s introduction explaining how previews worked, a first for us.

The play is a two-hander based on a famous american artist Mark Rothko (played  by Colin Fields).  Tom Barton plays Rothko’s assistant Ken during a time when Rothko had been commissioned to provide the murals for a very flash restaurant under construction by very wealthy owners.  

Much of the discussion between the actors gave me a glimpse into what an artist might go through in putting together a piece of work particularly the balance between the physical painting and in seeing what wants to be displayed and determining how best  to accomplish that vision while leaving feeling emanating from the picture thus making that picture a little piece of the artist.   

From the dialogue we get a reflection on life as well as the artist - a mixture of passion and order; lines and brightness and darkness; the “Red” of vitality coexists with the “black” of death with the end product reflecting the soul of the artist.  These contrasts were exacerbated by the actors with Rothko the embodiment of eccentricity and Ken a purely passive stooge - the script seemed to  dictate Ken’s blandness ( which Tom played excellently).  It was only in the active painting scene that both characters came together as one enjoying the excitement of splashing colour on canvas.

Apparently sometimes plays are adjusted significantly between their preview and opening night.   I wonder how much of the overt life commentary  will be subdued in favour of a purer entertainment piece?   Regardless, I enjoyed the philosophical reminders and glimpses into an artist’s world as well as feverish outbursts of frenzied energy.

Keeping calm

I have been reading a book, listening to a tape and trying as I might to be a calmer person.   Despite my best efforts, I found that my recent experience with Jeff stuck for a couple of hours in the traffic on the way to a workshop was the the most effective lesson to date.   It was a great reminder to me of the advantages of practical experience over theoretical swotting.

Cricket morphs into footy

Usually I find it difficult enough when the cricket season changes into the footy season - only being comfortable concentrating on one thing at a time.  This year has been different as I come to grips with my last season as a school cricket dad.  This has been accentuated by Andy not moving straight into footy.  I might have been lost if not for Jeff’s footy team giving something apart from the regular AFL to signal the change of seasons.

Successful stint as driving instructor

I was amazed at the relief that came when Andy got his licence recently - three out of three and likely to be awhile before my services as a driver instructor will be required.   Perhaps my nerves will be sufficiently recovered by then.  I thought that with time I would have got better at it but my experience has been the opposite - more close calls the more jumpy I got.  Luckily Andy was a more student.

How difficult is it to stop parenting grown ups?

I have been very grateful to have retired recently enabling me to spend time with Jeff on the numerous hospital visits.   Try as I might, it is very difficult to give up being a parent and sticking my nose in unnecessarily at the wrong times.  I am hoping to get better at keeping quiet in the upcoming months.

Rugby vs AFL

Recently I enjoyed a visit to Suncorp to watch the Reds have a good win over a very good other team.   While it was very close game that ended with the right result, I was struck by how less exciting it was than watching a Lions game even these days when their playing standard is much lower than most of the other AFL teams.  Looks like I have succumbed to the AFL addiction usually reserved for those in the southern states.

Now that I have nearly caught up

This week I have hot off the press a review of “End of the Rainbow”, more “Instant Calm”, thinning Plan A, Catholicism clarified and keeping connected.

QTC and QPAC combine for production of gold

“End of the Rainbow” written by Peter Quilter was put on as a joint production by the Queensland Theatre Company and the Queensland Performing Arts Centre.   It is centred a performance of Judy Garland (played by Christen O’Leary) in London six months before she died.   In demonstrating the trials of a stage superstar afflicted by drink and drug dependency, it included Judy’s soon to be fifth husband, Micky Deane (Anthony Standish) and a long time piano player Anthony (Hayden Spencer) with scenes flitting between her very posh hotel room and the stage of the last performance.

This show started as a play and ended as a musical in keeping with the summary description given at the play briefing for “End of the Rainbow”.  Christen O’Leary as Judy Garland was magnificent.  Christen impressed in the one woman show “Bombshells” put on by QTC last season.  In this joint production with QPAC, she cemented her brilliance with the portrayal of a superstar at the end of her career.   Essentially, it was again a one woman show with three able accessories to bring out her best. 

I was taken for a ride including mild amusement, raucous laughter, welling tears, wonderment, sadness, anger, tenderness and resignation.  How can a person switch so seamlessly from a babbling nervous wreck to a confident, clear-voiced singer?

While the actress and her antics were the centrepiece of the show, the stagecraft was more than impressive in giving credibility to the background and setting – from the use of period film clips to open the show, to weather through the window.  The live band provided an authentic concert hall atmosphere.  Both supporting actors provided excellent foils for the actress to extract emotional tumult from the audience as well as leave us pondering – “Must the show always go on?”  or “Where is the line between tough love and accepting reality?”

In the full house that shared the experience with me there was a spattering of standing ovations confirming the common enjoyment of a remarkable production that exceeded expectations.

Calm is coming

As I work my way slowly through “Instant Calm”, the main residue sticking to me is the importance of breathing – in and out and being aware of so doing.  This comes as a neat correlation with the “formless consciousness” reminders easing out of the cd in the car.  No doubt I will get good at it with practice.

Thinning Plan A

Apart from the mental challenge of this blog, I have set myself a couple of physical challenges ostensibly to do with fitness.  First challenge to swim a kilometre on the first day of each month this year ( a step up from a previous target of one klm each year).  So far so good.  Challenge No 2 emerged from my wanting to fit into my wedding suit for my niece’s wedding in May.  After 25 years I expect the fabric has shrunk a bit as while I was able to get into it and do up the buttons when I breathe in, movement was severely limited.   I figured by showing minor restraint with diet and getting some running in, it would be easy to move and groove as appropriate by the target date.  So far diet modifications include – beers only  on special occasions, nearly eliminate bread, perhaps smaller serves of rice/pasta/potatoes, and reduce sweets.   Success or otherwise will determine the need for vegies, wine and water only in the weeks leading up to the due date.   Unfortunately, I must have misjudged the tension in my leg muscles when following up my March 1 swim with a run the next day.  A twinge in the right calf meant I had to resort to ice packing and watching cricket for a couple of days.  Nearly ready to try again soon.

Catholicism clarified

My newer world view as mentioned last post was beginning to cause me consternation regarding potential conflict with my Catholic faith.  Thankfully, the sermon at Mass last Sunday set me at ease.   Its essence was the need to change as you grow in faith.   I am now happy to forth in peace maintaining my practice as a Catholic without accepting every single element of the doctrine put forth by the Church.

Keeping in touch

I have been keeping regular contact with long time public service friends at a monthly breakfast.   This has been keeping me in tune for future public service work while enjoying excellent company.

I am not really au fait with the intricacies of blogging so was hoping that if anyone found pieces within my diatribe worthy of further discussion that they would point that out and we could go from there.