More escapism.

 I was always planning to go to the theatre last week, so it was always going to be a special week.  I was also planning to go and see Cat Stevens so a doubly exciting week, and one with the slight challenge of accomodating the energy for both, but when a friend offered me her unused ticket to see Cabaret, I just could not refuse even though it meant more trips into London and more energy.  So one way or another it has been a brilliant week, some balm, but balm with a warning. 

Opening set, Goodnight Oscar, staring Sean Hayes. 

The production of Cabaret, the first time I have seen the actual original stage version so to speak, was out there. Even now the dancers of the Kit Kat club can shock.  And nestled inside are two stories, that of Sally Bowles and the Christopher Isherwood character and that of their landlord and her elderly Jewish lover.  It was the latter story that especially surprised as I could not remember that from the film.  And of course it is in telling their story that there changes coming to Weimar Germany are most implied.   With Farage and racism rampant in parts of the UK the warning of what can happen to a people is clear, but just as, in fact of course even more shocking is what is happening in Gaza.  Hate teaches hate, teaches hate.    I was there on my own, which I often am, but to my delight bumped into someone I know.  So it was nice to be able to share the luxury of a seat near the front, relish the dance moves, and yet have a social commentary all at the same time. 

Central Mosque Cambridge

I thought it would be very hard to top the production with the play I was seeing, with my friend from school, but Goodnight Oscar, turned out to be just as brilliant. I have always liked Oscar Levant,  and it turned out that Jan felt the same, and on the rare occasions I saw Will and Grace, I always enjoyed it, so seeing one of the American stars from that, capture a drug fuelled, psychotic episode on live TV,  morph into a beautiful rendition of Rhapsody in Blue, and back was both funny and very powerful.  Having seen my Grandma Jane sectioned, and given ECT, it also brought up unexpected memories from my childhood and the fear of mental health problems.   When I was at school I felt so much shame, first my Dad had left and also a "mad" grandmother, I hid so much.  But I also always felt relatively safe at schoool, but not safe enough to want to head to the school reunion, not yet a while yet they all seem so sucessful and sure.    And although I felt I had friends at school, I do not even seem to be on their radar, so whilst I would quite like to have some time with some of them, I am not up to meeting up yet.  However, I was very glad to be with a friend to see the production. 

Then I finally got to see Cat Stevens, Yusuf, having missed him twice before.  Compared with the other productions, it could be said to have been a bit lacklustre, he is not the most charismatic story teller, but it is a tale worth hearing, about his lifelong search and his conversion to Islam.   But then there are the songs, which he put into context and sang as beautifully as he did all those years before.  En route, I found a beautiful mosque in Cambridge which Monty Don had visited for one of his TV shows, and I finally got to the National Horse Museum in Newmarket. I am sure that horseracing would be condemned by some of my friends, and having seen a horse put down the one time I actually went to a race,  I would not want to go again, but it was interesting to discover the history of the sport , to see the jockey club, Tattersalls, and of course meet some of the horses that stay in the museum.   I have never seen a horse reduced to sopiness before like a dog being rubbed.  It felt like a real escape to be in the sun, in Suffolk, but the Palace housing the art works, had been partly destroyed under Cromwell, so even this halcyon scene revealed the complexities of history.