London Calling; Billy Pilgrim Denies the Call on iPhone

Westminster Abbey

A building rich with history and over-brimming with wealthy and famous corpses. Though initially build for the Catholic faith, Westminster Abbey serves as a central base of the Anglican faith, and the official site of coronations, weddings, and burials of the English monarchy. Correction, was the official site of burials before OH MY GOD THIS PLACE IS TOO FULL! For instance, Ben Johnson (England's first poet laureate) is buried standing up, and this was hundreds of years ago. Since that time: every crack, cranny, corner, and crypt has been filled with either a corpse or commemorative plaque. While the burial site of many great historical figures, the Abbey offers the tourist attraction of walking on the graves of everyone from Charles Darwin to Charles Dickens. Nothing to do with disrespect, rather walking over graves is just inevitable by this point. But when offered the opportunity to be buried in the building with everyone from King Henry V to Winston Churchill, the price you pay is having tourists from every corner of this spherical world trod on your resting place while stumbling along to an audio guide. That and ungodly amounts of money.

In view of such egos from beyond the grave (do 19^th century statesmen really need more impressive tombs than monarchs?) the most touching experience is that of grave of the Unknown Soldier, a symbol for all those lost in WWI, which no one (not even the Queen) walks on. Continually covered in poppies, this otherwise un-lavish grave receives the utmost of respect. In contrast to other tombs, the modesty and reverence of this grave is vastly moving compared with more elaborate shows of wealth and status. On a separate note, there is a small plaque denoting where Oliver Cromwell was buried for three years before he was dug up, re-executed for ceremony, and buried in separate places. Separate places as in separate pieces. Anyway, Westminster Abbey serves great significance, and has a much more expansive history, but that's my experience of the day with rich, famous dead people. 

City of York

York is a picturesque English town, located in the Northlands near the Scottish border. The wonderful York Minster Abbey, seat of the Archbishop of York, features towering Gothic architecture and half the stained glass in all of England. The Minster is currently undergoing massive restoration to the York stone and intricate East window, planning to be restored to full Godly glory by 2016. This cathedral dates back to the Roman era under the rule of Constantine (about 307AD), though the church has undergone several renovations throughout the millenniums. Similar to St.Paul's Cathedral in London, the York skyline does not impose the view of the Minster, allowing the building to tower from the center of town and help serve as orientation. You may also climb the Minster's tower for the highest viewpoint in York (five pound fee), and if you race up all 275 steps at breakneck pace, you may even have a few minutes alone at the top for those prone to solitude. The rest of York is strongly rooted in Roman history, as the Romans established York as a major seat of power to rule the British Isles; the Roman walls surrounding the old city are remarkably intact, open for a stroll during daylight and lit in parts by color phasing LEDs at night. On weekend nights, this sleepy town does awaken to a pub and club scene: if you stand by the riverfront you can witness anything from top hats to Zorro costumes. I had to pleasure to stroll the riverfront after England had lost a match to Wales in the Rugby World Cup, meaning the local populace was out and indulging in what could only be described as a “vengeance”. In the daylight however, York is a quaint town filled with adorable shops and an extremely healthy population of talented buskers (see below).

Rievaulx Abbey

Situated an hour into the countryside, the remains of Rievaulx Abbey are some of the most stunning old ruins you will come across. Once a marvelous Abbey community, the buildings fell into disrepair and eventual ruin due to the Reformation -also known as King Henry VIII saying “don't mind if I do” to ransacking Catholic institutions and adding the collected wealth to his already brimming exchequer. Today, the remains of these Gothic structures still (mostly) stand impressively over immaculate lawns. A scenic designer's dream and the most incredible settings for Shakespeare in the park, if not for being in the middle of nowhere (well, outside Hensley but close enough to nowhere). I appreciated the bands of sheep in the background, but I don't think the sheep fully appreciate what a glorious grazing site they have.

Cambridge University

Cambridge University will not let you walk on the lawns. And they are not called quads (like at that peasantry Oxford place), no, here the lawns are called “courts” and heaven forbid (or at least Cambridge) that you disturb a single blade of that immaculate and pristine grass. Featuring the first chapel/building designed by Christopher Wren (who built other things like St. Paul's cathedral), and brags something like 32 Nobel Peace Price winners from Trinity College alone (one of the many colleges making up Cambridge University) including people like Newton. Until recently, all of the English monarchy attended college here. They take themselves very seriously. Sorry, I'm bitter after hearing them complain about paying for their college education what college students in America pay for less than one year. I didn't want to know the amounts, but some one just had to ask. Oh, and if you can't pay off your debts in England by age 55, they are just straight acquitted. Essay prompt: why is America the greatest country in the world? Seriously, I want to know.   

The Coronet; The Cocktail Party

Firstly, the intimate space offered by the Print Room in the Coronet was the perfect space for T.S. Elliot's ghostly drawing room drama. An old neglected cinema, the theatre is in the process of being restored and is currently in crux between the past and the future. The paint may be peeling in parts, yet the original Victorian architecture is glorious, giving the space a feel of history and charming potential. Catching The Cocktail Party at the crossroads between the space's past and future added the perfect atmosphere to this challenging piece. Elliot's play begins as a classic, twittering, drawing room comedy where a man's wife has left, providing no explanation, immediately prior to a cocktail party in which he must invent excuse for her absence. As the guests depart, a mysterious stranger swiftly sends the show into much deeper themes of love, betrayal, spirituality and salvation. The dialogue delivers satirical elements while sweeping undercurrents of deeper existential mysteries carry the play. The playing space itself was sparse; featuring only three chairs, two doorways, a table, and a telephone mounted on the bare back wall. This was a choice that complimented the mood of the piece, and a serious nod to the director for keeping the actor's blocking diverse and engaging within a limited space. The execution could never be called “stagnant”; though Elliot's grandiose ideologies could be hard to follow, no matter how well the team brought them into a glorious actualization. 

The National Theatre; Jane Eyre

I will preface this review by saying; when it comes to the most famous and most brilliant of Gothic romances, I just don't care. I don't care about Jane Eyre's trials and eventual reward. I don't care about Mr.Rochester's inner demons and eventual redemption. After reading Jean Rhys' Wide Sargasso Sea (a prequel novel on the marriage of Betsy and the young Rochester) I prefer my Gothic romance with zombies and black magic juju. So I really just don't care about Jane Eyre, even in an innovative three hour stage epic. That being said, hats off to the team of this production. An original version of the classic, devised by the company in eight weeks time; this production featured marvelous physical theatre tricks, a fantastic live band, real flames, and an intriguing amount of ladders. The company performed perfectly, the atmospheres created where immaculate, and as a devised project, this production was nothing short of brilliant. The ingenuity expressed in translating the novel to the stage was truly inspiring, and I think this company is truly brilliant. But I still didn't and still don't care about Jane Eyre. Call me uneducated, I just don't go in for the whole “poor woman leads hard life but is eventually appreciated and awarded for her inner beauty” cup of tea when that cup of tea is three hours long. 

Spitting Fire; Spouting Rain

Our acting class with the incredible James Roose-Evans has commenced at RADA studios. Our instructor possess the honesty of an 87 year old man whose job is not to shelter egos, and yet the grace to not be callous or abusive. We drill seemingly simple (yet deceptively complex) exercises such as "walk through this door" or exclaim "the sky is blue". These exercises were intimidating during the first session, yet filled with immense possibility by the second class. At the end of the first day, James had each student construct their personal story, allotting us time to think and then perform from a chair facing an imaginary audience while the rest watched from the sidelines. While initially I mistook this as some sort of cute, get to know everyone exercise, I realized after class James was establishing a natural baseline for each of us; reading our posture, speech patterns, and vocal range more than the words we chose. James has established the weaknesses I must improve, and challenges me with a delicately brutal honesty. This man is brilliant. 

Classes include; Shakespeare (previously noted), Society and Shelter (British history), Cultures in Contact (all these sites/events), British Theatre and Dance (all these shows), and Acting (there is no fancy name for this). Life is busy; I don't have time to be depressed, and constantly too exhausted to be ecstatically happy. 

1,000 Words: