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December 06, 2005
Amsterdam By Striplight
Monday evening. Still alive. Relatively speaking. At least the next Monday is as far away as possible.
Let's sort the backlog first. Since my last report there's been all manner of occasions providing excuses to get involved. The National Theatre of Scotland was launched in Tramway after a century of debate. Champagne, socialising and disposable cameras. The theatre itself sounds like an interesting concept. It's a kind of a production agency thingy. Just the fact that they launched it in Glasgow, and in Tramway of all places, rather than in some posh Edinburgh theatre kind of sets the scene. I'll be waiting with interest for the first productions.
Other notable event was the Scottish Dance Theatre show, in Tramway as well. It was the first time I've seen the company. I take my hat off to Janet Smith. It's a very interesting and dynamic group of performers. It was also the first time that I've seen Gemma Nixon since Ashley created Acrid Avid Jam on us in the autumn of 2000. She was just as lovely dancer as I remembered.
Other than that I've been busy lobbying for a sauna for our forthcoming HQ. It's in the floorplans already, but it wasn't on the original brief, so it's not on the budget. Since it's my baby, I promised to look into sponsorship to fund the sauna. "This sauna was brought to you by Finlandia Vodka." That's got a nice ring to it...
So here I am sitting at my desk and listening to the soundtrack of 'Fashionistas'. I've spent the last two days getting lost in Amsterdam. My partners in crime on the first day were Robert Moran, the composer of 32 Cryptograms among other madness, and Alex and Johann, a couple of german musical terrorists with a fetish for alpine horns. The white widow pointed the way and we headed in the general direction in a circular kind of motion. In the process we gave birth to an academy of conceptual arts (I was appointed to the post of the lecturer in sensual massage), a film and a ballet. I think some of it had something to do with Peter Sellers and 'Alice In Wonderland'. The night ended in a ritual dance to house music, which I hate with a vengeance, in a club called Sinners. Nice. Or actually the night ended in a sunrise. I saw it coming and hid myself in the hotel.
The gentlemen headed back to Munich about the same time as I was heading to La-La-Land so I was all alone, or so I thought, for the second day. 4.30pm is a good time to wake up. 5pm is a good time to have a Heineken at the hotel bar. The liquid brunch turned into a dinner. Would that be a brunner then? Six hours later it was still raining outside, I had a new friend who works in Libya and lives in Brazil, the hotel staff was drunk and I felt the time for walkies again. Once outside everybody seemed to know me and think that I was called Charlie. What ever they were on about... I have to give Ali G one thing though: he said that one of the dangers of exctasy is that it makes people like house music. Dutch people like their house music way too much. My performers blood, and my friend Jack, pulled me away from it all into a theatre. 2am I was dancing conga on stage with a lovely brazilian lady and some random person in a gorilla outfit. She gave me a banana for my efforts.
Two hours of sleep and an hour or so on the plane really sets one up for a ballet class. I love Mondays. We're going to the theatre on Wednesday. I can't wait to get into the set with the costumes, wigs and all the bells and whistles. The character is finally falling into place and most of his fragmented behaviour is making at least some sense. There's still a week before the first night, so it should all be nicely sorted by the time the curtain rises. We shall see what the critics have to say about it. I'll drop a line or two during the weekend to give you a last-minute update. Until then...
Even if I won't shine, at least the costume will. ©
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