Life of Pi 

“I’m not really sure I want to go, I’ve seen the movie and I know the twist and stuff at the end, I don’t think I’ll enjoy it”

These were the words that I spoke to the small group of us huddling in a small hotel room as we bought tickets and planned the shows we wanted to see in the coming weeks. I ended up being convinced by some of the others and by telling myself that I should see all of the shows I am able to, even if I’m not particularly excited to see them. Get the experience while I can when I’m here. And I am glad I did.

Life of Pi was my favorite piece of theatre I have seen ever. It was an enthralling show that was a technical masterpiece. With every scene that was presented on stage it brought on with it a new fantastical technique that had not been shown before. In one scene you are transported to a zoo with cages containing animals. Another transition and the wall break apart revealing a bustling street market. The next is a cargo ship with a trap door to the lower deck. The list goes on. With every transition to a different area, it was always a 20 second visible transition away from being the hospital bed again.

Puppetry played an enormous role in this production as every animal was multiple people playing a puppet. It was extremely easy to give into the suspension of disbelief that the animals were just animals with no one controlling them. The actors controlling the puppets were either in black or tan clothes depending on the animal, this allowed them to almost bleed into the background of wherever the animal was standing or laying. I think what made this so effective was that they were not truly trying to hide the actors. They didn’t cower away, or hide under a sheet. They were so focused on creating the most life-like depictions of animal puppetry, that you could only focus on the subtle movements and sounds of the animals. The rising and falling of the chest of a zebra, the curling moving tail of the tiger, or the loud noises of the orangutan superseded any of the focus of the puppeteers. 

Projections were used in this production to an extent I have never imagined before. They were used to create the texturing on the hospital wall or the metallic hue of the cargo ship. The crashing of seemingly three dimensional waves against an actually 3D lifeboat that rose from the stage.

This theatre experience was truly one I will never forget. This was a play driven by passion, professionalism, love and talent. Nothing was held back and every choice made furthered the story and characters.

Follow this link to see a short 2 minute walkthrough of some of the technical elements.

Westminster Abbey

This was the visit I had been most looking forward to on the trip. While I am naturally a fan of the neo-classical architecture that we saw at St. Paul’s Cathedral, I can’t pretend that I am not partial to the gothic aesthetics that are on full display at Westminster. While I couldn’t have been happier with the architectural splendor of the Abbey, I was surprised to find that the most interesting part of the visit was actually the who’s-who of historical figures entombed or memorialized there.

Among the most interesting entombed (non-royals) were Isaac Newton, Charles Darwin, and Stephen Hawking. I thought it was particularly interesting that these men had found their way to this Abbey in death, given that their life achievements were secular, and indeed have been contrary to creationism and Christian sentiments in many cases. For me these stones were proof that Westminster is as much a building for recognizing worldly contributions and political posturing as it is a religious site.

In Poet’s Corner, I recognized so many names that I was a bit overwhelmed. Chaucer, Shakespeare, D.H. Lawrence, Tennyson, and Kipling were all names that I saw around me or under my feet. Three more names were of particular interest to me: Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, and Lewis Carroll. Of the three, only Dickens is actually laid to rest in the Abbey, having undergone interment in 1870. Austen, known of course for her literary works such as Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, and Emma, was buried at Winchester Cathedral in 1817, but is immortalized in Westminster with a plaque near Shakespeare. Lewis Carroll, being the famed author of Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, is also buried elsewhere, at the Mount Cemetery in Guildford. He was the last of the three to die, having passed in 1898.

An interesting question that I was left with after leaving was whether or not heroes of our age will continue to be immortalized there. Could we see the likes of Sir Elton John or Mick Jagger there someday near Handel? What about J.K. Rowling next to Samuel Johnson? It’s an interesting way to mark the passage of time, yet I’m sure its on some people’s minds already.

[now playing: Skeletons of Society – Slayer]

Hello again! Today was a pretty laid back day for me, but it also kicked off my free weekend of the trip. The day started with an outdoor class meeting. We all walked over to a nearby park and talked about The Glass Menagerie, The Corn is Green, and The House of Shades. Whenever we get back from a show, I usually talk about my thoughts with my roommate. This being said, it was very nice to see what everyone else in our group thought about the productions. They brought up some interesting points, and even lingered on certain characters that I did not expect. This gave me a lot of insight on character construction, and the different ways in which characters can garner sympathy. I do wish we had talked about The House of Shades more, or even The Father and The Assassin because those are by far my two favorite plays we have seen! I could listen to discourse about and discuss those plays for a while. Maybe for our next class session, there will be more on these two!

After class, I went back to the British Museum for cream tea (yum!), and was kept company by some of the other group members. When the cream tea was all gone (which ended up being too soon after it arrived) I went back to the hotel to rest up and get some small chores done so my arrival home is less stressful! I also had a lot of time to kill before my fringe show, The Haunting of Susan A, so I got nearly everything done.

When it was time for me to head towards the theatre, I got myself dinner. Dinner ended up being Chipotle and some raspberry truffles I got on the way there. I noticed that the portion sizes are a lot smaller here, which was even more apparent at the Chipotle. I was happy about this because I always feel too stuffed after eating it in America, it was perfect this time!

The show for tonight took place at The King’s Head Theatre. The King’s Head Theatre is in the back of a pub, and has very limited seating and space. Audience members could even reach out and touch the stage if they wanted to. This made the experience of The Haunting of Susan A feel much more personal, and the show itself also had a few interactive aspects to it. The Haunting of Susan A follows the acting career of Susan, and her chilling experience while performing in The King’s Head Theatre. She tells the story of her encounters with the ghost that haunts the theatre, and helps the audience understand its origins. The show was fun, and it was better than I expected it to be! It was definitely clunky, as the main actress forgot her lines quite a bit, and she even paused the show to ask an audience member for their water; however, I think that the jump scares included in the production made up for this. The play was slow in the first half, but quickly sped up as we learned more and more about why and how the theatre was haunted. Despite the slowness of the first half, I noticed it was necessary to sit through because it tied in so well with the ending. I would say that it was not a waste of time to see this show, but I don’t think I would see it over many of the others I have attended thus far! It was better than Lift for sure, and it stands well enough on its own as a show. I think that if anything, the production could benefit from being longer to flesh out its plot even more.

That was my fringe experience of the day! Now I have the weekend to look forward to. Tomorrow I am taking a day trip to Brighton, and I’m also going to see The Cursed Child on Saturday. Can’t wait to tell you all about it!

I knew nothing about Westminster Abbey before going. I knew it was supposed to be a beautiful cathedral with some buried people in it, but every cathedral we’ve seen has been beautiful and I think all of them have had people buried in them, typically old royals I’m unfamiliar with. You can imagine my surprise when I realized I was casually walking over the graves of some of the most famous scientific minds in human history, Charles Darwin, Isaac Newton, and Stephon Hawking. Our tour guide Molly spoke of Darwin’s venture across the world on the ship The Beagle, where he collected bugs, birds, and other animals from different islands. Darwin compared their adaptations to one another which eventually led him to his theory of evolution which has since been widely accepted as scientific fact for all of earths species. I was surprised to see Darwin buried in a cathedral being that his theory provoked so much outrage among religious creationist, but Molly put so nicely in saying that just because some say we evolved from other species and some say we came from angels, does not mean there’s not room for both. Then there was Isaac Newton. Seeing Newtons grave was really bizarre to me. I know that he’s the father of Modern physics and invented calculous but to me to he feels unreal like some kind of folk hero. I just think back to that story about him sitting under an apple tree, seeing an apple fall, and him coming up with his theory of universal gravitation. I thought it was interesting that Newton, Darwin, and Hawking were all buried right next to each other just because they were scientists. It’s not like they were friends, they just had the same job. Imagine if you were really good at your job and then you were buried next to other people who were also good at that job before you. I’m a waiter, please don’t bury me next to my coworker Scott, he literally smokes crack. And that’s ok, I mean it’s not ok to smoke crack, crack is bad for you but so are the free drinks that he would pour for me after every shift. He was actually a pretty nice guy, sometimes I miss him. Maybe I could be buried next to Scott. 

Westminster Abbey was consecrated and finished in 1269. This Abbey holds over 3,000 dead, around 30 of which were kings and queens. There are several wings inside that include one for scientists, poets, actors, the Royal Tombs, and most famously, the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior.

One memorial in the Poets Corner that stood out and that I was excited to see was that of William Shakespeare. Shakespeare was born in Stratford-upon-Avon in 1564 on April 23^rd, this is also believed to be the day he died 52 years later. When he was 18, he married 26-year-old Anne Hathaway (no not that one). Together they had three children, Susanna, Hamnet, and Judith.  While we do not have an exact date, it is believed Shakespeare came to London in the late 1580’s to the early 1590’s. His first works were ‘Venus and Adonis’ and ‘The rape of Lucrece’, both of which were published and printed. He then became a member of The Lord Chamberlains Men until his death in 1616. His total number of works is 38 plays, 154 sonnets, and other poetry. Shakespeare died in his home in Stratford-upon-Avon and is buried at the Holy Trinity.

Another plaque that I found interesting was one commemorating ¾ of the Bronte sisters. This plaque has the names of Charlotte, Emily Jane, and Anne. Pseudonyms Currer Bell, Ellis Bell, and Acton Bell. Emily only produced one solo novel in her life which was Wuthering Heights. Emily was only 29 when the book came out and dies a year later when she was only 30. Charlotte, Emily, and Anne had a collection of poems released called Poems by Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell in 1846.Charlotte published around four novels, most famously Jane Eyre in 1847. Anne only had two solo novels including Agnes Grey and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.

Our visit to Bath was so dreamy to me. I tend to romanticize everything anyways, but here I felt like I hardly needed to try at all. The quaint streets, little bookstores, cafes, etc. already looked as though they were ready to be in some romance film. There were also street performers out everywhere we went all day, which gave the town a sweet, romantic energy. Walking the streets, especially in the dress I was wearing, made me feel like I was living in a Jane Austen novel. I didn’t go to the Jane Austen museum, but I did go briefly into the Mary Shelley exhibit, with the emotional support of some friends. I am very interested in all things horror, so seeing the life scale model of Frankenstein was so awesome. I also really enjoyed some of the other spooky details about the making of the story. The part that was terrifying, was the basement. I was under the impression that it was just the really gory part of the exhibit but no, it was actually structured like a haunted house. As we went down the stairs, the door to the basement slammed shut and I knew my impression was inaccurate. We very hurriedly tried to find our way around and out, trying to purposely avoid the motion sensors on the ground that activated all the loud noises and huge gusts of air, poorly. When we finally got back onto the street, we all were able to catch our breath and re-enter the intimate, dreamlike streets of Bath. Which definitely made Mr. Frankenstein seem incredibly out of place and scarier.

Seeing the Roman Baths wasn’t something I was initially excited by, but as we went through the museum I started to realize how bizarre it was to actually be where I was. It was so surreal to see the actual structure of the foundation of the baths while walking through the museum, and to think about all the people that had built the space and frequented it so many years ago. I thought it was so intriguing to see all the artifacts that have been recovered from the site as well. I regretfully didn’t get very many pictures of artifacts, however I did take pictures of a few.

I really appreciated having the tour guides talking about each artifact as we went through. It gave me a much more immersive experience and I think if I had to just read descriptions the entire time I would have been less interested. However, learning about how impressively crafted the artifacts were made me appreciate the Roman Baths so much. It’s hard to imagine something of that scale being built 2,000 years ago, and seeing it in person just made the Roman Baths so delicate and meaningful. I deeply enjoyed exploring the Roman Baths and I really came to love the city as a whole by the time we left. It was much quieter than London, but they are both still so rich with history. I think the difference that I enjoyed the most between the two was that Bath was surrounded by so much nature and seemed so far from a bustling city. Whereas London is a bustling city with small, intentional nature parks/spaces trickled throughout. I loved exploring Bath, I absolutely want to come back someday!

I have never been to an art museum dedicated solely to modern art. Truthfully, I have only been to a few art museums, all in the Tulsa area. The closest thing I have experienced to the Tate is the AHHA in Tulsa that displays local art in seasonal exhibits. Even then, it was nothing compared to this gallery and was certainly not on the same scale as the Tate Museum. Going in, I knew that I would be able to appreciate the art inside, but I was delighted to be moved by some of the pieces as well. 

The first piece that made my heart heavy was by Teresa Margolles, and it’s title was Flag 1. At first glance, it just seems like some ratted, old flag that has seen years and years of wear. However, the process of its decaying color and the motive behind it made me gasp out loud. The fabric contained blood, soil, and other substances from the sites of murders that have occured around the northern border of Mexico. These deaths were all the outcome of the brutal drug cartels that occupy smuggling routes into the United States. The part of the art description that truly made my heart sink was the very last sentence, “As the government failed to intervene in the drug wars, the blood-stained cloth was hung outside the Mexican pavillion as a memorial for the citizens that the nation ignored”. I couldn’t help but think about the current (and past)  climate of the United States in correlation with the devastating murders of so many citizens due to gun violence. I am fighting back tears now just writing this because they’re deaths that I don’t understand, much like the lives lost in Mexico because of the violence committed by the drug cartels. When I say I don’t understand, I don’t mean to say that some deaths due to violence make sense to me, I just mean that deaths of citizens ignored by those that are in place to protect them especially don’t make sense to me. What I found so raw about this flag was that the fabric itself was embedded with the actual blood, dirt, and dust of the places where these murders took place. There was something so haunting about that to me, because so often we place memorials that look clean and beautiful, when the event we are memorializing was everything but. It made me wonder, if we were to create pieces like this for every shooting in America, what would the response be? What if we took the clothes of every child/adult victim of the recent shooting in Texas, plus every mass shooting we’ve had in the recent years and sewed them together to create a blood-stained blanket to wrap around the Statue of Liberty, what would our government think then? There are so many thoughts that ran through my head while absorbing the information of this piece, but what stuck with me was the sadness and utter despair I felt afterwards. There are no words to describe the disappointment I feel for the lack of humanity shown towards the victims this flag represents, as well as the victims of murder within our own home. I will leave you with a quote that I found from Teresa Margolles’ website that I feel we should all sit with, “Looking at the dead you see society”. 

The second piece that I fell in love with was also related to death, this time in a way that gave me hope. It is by Juan Manuel Echavarria in collaboration with Fernando Grisalez. The piece includes a wall full of square images that change depending on what side of them you are standing on. Each square is a photograph of a gravesite occupied by an unidentified body, or part of one that was washed into the Magdelena river and rescued by the villagers of Puerto Berrio and then buried in their cemetery. The images are of the graves over time, so most of the photos are taken months or years apart showing the transformation of each grave and the care its been shown by this community. I found it so heartwarming that these people were claiming these dead bodies as their own, showing value to their lost souls, and even going so far as giving them names in order to demonstrate the care and meaning each lost life should have. It also spoke to the way grief changes over time, some of the images began bare, as if the death was too shocking to recognize. Then, over time, as we process, the grave was covered in flowers and given a name. Which to me represented that sometimes in order to fully appreciate and celebrate life, you must give yourself time to see and understand the death. 

To start this blog, I would like to be upfront and honest, I’m an emotional person. On a normal week in the states I will cry around 4-5 times on average. Normally not for a genuinely sad reason, but because I feel my emotions so heavily (especially happy ones) that I just have to. Today, however, I cried so much it made me wonder if I would ever cry again, because I was so joyful. That may seem dramatic, but I am. The tears began at the Tower of London. I was curious and excited, but then I saw the crown worn by Queen Victoria in 1871.

It was tiny in comparison to the elaborate, heavy, uncomfortable looking crowns on display before it. The delicate frame of the crown in combination of the dazzling diamonds lining it made my eyes sparkle and for some reason made me sad. Then, I read the small description next to it that informed me it was a crown she requested to be made for her following the death of her husband King Arthur, so that she could still wear her widow’s cap underneath. That’s all I needed to read to, for some reason, have a tear fall out of my eye and onto my favorite blazer. I am typically not the type to cry at historical British artifacts (that’s wayyy more of a Dru Denny thing), or any historical artifacts in general. I have always felt appreciative and in awe, but not emotional. I mean, I didn’t know Queen Victoria, we were never close, so why did I find this tiny little widow’s crown so beautiful and tragic? I think it’s because not only is it gorgeous, but it held so much weight in the heart of the person that owned it.

Walking through the tower today I discovered that’s what made each artifact, each article of royal clothing, and each stone carving in the walls so moving. There isn’t a single thing in the Tower of London that doesn’t hold some kind of spiritual, emotional, or historical weight to it. The energy that buzzed throughout the walls of the tower was almost tangible, especially in the area where so many were imprisoned and in the chapel.

As a believer, walking into the chapel made me feel all the fuzzy feelings and I was in love with all the worship elements included. I also became fixated on the memorial stone carvings of multiple people on display. I thought that the memorials were so beautiful and impactful. Tombstones are one thing, but I can’t imagine the time and skill it took to create something so large in size and meaning. In every place that I went past this point I was again reminded of the inspiring intention that this community has put into preserving their history, dating hundreds of years back.

It feels wrong to pick a favorite part of the Tower, but the chapel was high up on the list. Another portion that I found myself surprised at loving, was the area of imprisonment. I was fascinated by the different facets of torture and consequences brought onto the naughty nancies of England. The one I found the most terrifying was one that I would imagined is easily overlooked. It wasn’t encased in glass with lights illuminating the enemies face next to a description of an evil threat followed by the tearing of limbs like many of the displays in the room. In all honesty, I almost walked on past it myself. I only noticed it because there was this bright light coming out of a small circle below a huge case full of the Crown’s enemies. I curiously tried to look through the hole and only saw something strange and curled up and brown, I was so confused. Then, I saw this very small wallet sized description that talked about a cell so small that the prisoner could not stand nor lie down, but rather had to crouch over in total darkness, suffocating and in constant pain until they were released. My favorite part, this cell known as “Little Ease” has an unknown location. Whether due to construction building around it or through deconstruction due to war, somehow along the way this torture chamber that perfectly suits my deepest physical fears was lost along the way. I can only wonder if anyone died there, was left there, or if it was walled up without question due to it’s incredibly small 4ft size. All I know is, once I realized what the tiny hole was (a type of door handle to open this miniature “Little Ease”), my heart sank when I saw that brown curly image I saw before was the gruesome shape of a person curled up and crunched by claustrophobic dimensions of what I believe is the most haunting torture tactic used in the Tower of London.

I didn’t get a photo of Little Ease because I was too stunned (I didn’t know we could take pictures yet and forgot to go back) but I did get a picture of some Ravens getting a different kind of naughty in the middle of the Tower, ghastly vulgar creatures there are, Ravens.

Along with scary tragic things, the famous person imprisoned here that I was most heartbroken by was one of the most famous: Queen Anne Boleyn. Her memorial statue pillow outside was mind boggling to see and the words etched below it were even more sad. Queen Anne Boleyn was Henry the VIII’s second wife. They wed in 1533 after he annulled his marriage to Queen Catherine of Aragon. She reigned for three years until between rumors of infidelity and the inability to bear him an heir King Henry became convinced that she had entrapped him in a “cursed” marriage. Soon after, she was charged with treason, adultery, and a very questionable incesstual relationship with her brother. (Ew) Queen Anne was found guilty and was beheaded on May 19th, 1536 in the Tower of London. Standing by her memorial in the same place her actual head was chopped off her neck, frankly freaked me out. What didn’t freak me out though, was watching Queen Anne Boleyn (portrayed by the magnificent Amanda Lindgren) sing “Don’t Lose Your Head” in the West End’s production of SIX. It was the most brilliant way to end a day full of British history, and it was where I uncontrollably sobbed the most. Happy tears, of course. 

Dru and I are so relieved we weren’t alive when these helmets were a key member of the fashion scene at the Tower, too bulky for our taste.

Westminster Abbey was one of our stops on this amazing tour of London, it is the final resting place for many very well known people and also has monuments dedicated to others who’s final resting place are located else where. Some of those who are lade to rest or honored here are : Stephen Hawking, Jane Austen, William Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, James Thomson, and many more. It was interesting how they organized how they were all located, they had a science and math corner and an entire section for writers, poets, and actors. Others were also spread out through several others located around the abbey. Something that I found very interesting was the tomb of the Unknown Worrier. It reminded me of the United’s States of America’s Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. They nearly have the same reason of being created, to a keep memory of everyone who died fighting in wars. The one located in Westminster Abbey seems to be the first, while other countries followed suit in creating their own monuments. However it was not the same as the United states of America, there is security at Westminster Abby. However The guards at the US one is almost a performance, and from what I heard a long time ago, Is an immense honor and very selective on who is able to have that Honor. In Westminster Abbey they just have normal security guards and staff watching over things, this also include overlooking the coronation chair. Not only to does the Abby show their support for the dead but they also show respect to a certain select few by displaying their coat of arms on knights and are removed when they pass. I was very fond of one that had a snowy owl and rose, I do not know who it belongs to but I may do some research to find out. I was not expecting to find many names that I recognized at the Westminster abbey. Stephen Hawking is someone I only new by books or news, but one of the greatest theoretical physicists of the modern age was berried right below me. Being in London on this trip has showed me how close history continues to live on around a modern city and reminds me that history is continuing to be created. Making me wonder how I will leave my mark in history? Please enjoy the photos of Westminster Abbey that I have includded.

When I was preparing myself for this trip, I wasn’t at all focused on the social, cultural aspect of London. I was hyper fixated on the theatre we would be seeing and almost disregarded the fact that I would have to navigate London in order to see these lovely productions. Once we got off that international flight however, I was hit with the city. I was so frazzled trying to sprint after Shawn’s impressively fast legs and entirely overwhelmed, exhausted, and delusional once we got our Oyster cards and got on the tube. I didn’t make any observations about how I got on the tube, how the tube was moving, where we were on the tube, or anything that has to do with the actual mode of transportation itself. I immediately however, noticed the ads that were on display when I sleepily lugged my suitcases next to a mix between locals going to work. There was an ad right in front of me the entire 45 minute tube ride that read something like, “There’s thousands of Muslims in London, and you’re still single?”, and then below was a website for single muslims. It immediately reminded me of Christian mingle and I remember thinking “we’re all the same”, and then feeling somehow more comfortable on the tube because of this ad that doesn’t relate to me in any way shape or form. The next day I was far more observant. The tube system was rather easy for me since I have already lived in a city, so I was far more observant of the people than the actual mode of transportation itself. I felt as though we all walked far too slow, we don’t know how to not crowd exits/entrances, and I definitely felt as though others knew we were tourists. I also noticed that on the escalators people don’t just sit and wait to get to the top or bottom. They use them like we use the walking escalators in the airport, it’s just a way to make the steps easier, not make them a ride that takes far longer when you really examine it. The escalators is the worst part for me. They’re claustrophobic, on a huge angle, and I honestly might start just walking up and down them in the express lane to the left while everyone else stands. I think that’s my first step in becoming a local. 

I am so happy that our first show had Ralph Fiennes in it. I deeply enjoyed this production and watching Fiennes in person rather than through the screen. The cohesiveness of the physical movement between and within each actor was so specific it made me not only inspired, but envious of British training. Throughout the entire performance I was in awe of each actor’s connection to one another and to themselves. Each person was so connected to their objective that each choice was motivated, specific, and purposeful. While I did notice some of the accents slip a few times, I felt it was easier to see past because not every single person had an American accent. The show itself was structured really beautifully. I really enjoyed the fourth wall breaks of the reporter and Finnoula. It gave the show this personal, intimate feeling that was already being exuded by the dialogue, but the small soliloquy like moments of narration in the show made the energy more shared rather than just observed. The moments of tension between Ralph Fiennes’ character and everyone else in the show sometimes got so thick that I had to hold the handrail in front of me, they really had me on the edge of my seat. The way that they set and lit the show also greatly contributed to the intimate writing and thrust seating as well. The set was minimal, but the pieces were so specific that they felt huge and almost like characters themselves. The lights fading in and out of dimness and kind of following certain characters through the space gave the stage so much dimension. I became so emotional by the end of the show. Not only because the cast did such good work, but the show was so beautiful, heart-felt, and reminded me how much I want to do this for the rest of my life. It was one of the best shows I have ever seen live and I could not be more grateful for this opportunity. I absolutely cannot wait for more, and to write more about this experience!