Another Day In Paradise
The second song I ever heard. As important to me as Vienna, the first. Nearly a ten year gap seperated them. Hearing it live was on the cusp of being a religious experience. Phil Collins is a major influence and to finally see him live was undescribable, it felt the same as when I finally saw Hopper's Nighthawks in the flesh, or read a particularly brilliant piece of Chesterton. You know that these are Gods among men.
In Glasgow I went to the museum of modern art. Their oval room was amazing, It did things to the brain as you stood there. I also saw a couple of pieces which gave me inspiration for two very good ideas. But most of it was like all modern art, pretentious.
Idea 1. Have a stage onstge, portrayed by a rug or somesuch. The character cannot leave this space. He is conscious of this limitation. Beckettian maybe, but he never approached the subject like that. I think the idea is good but it doesn't feel unique. It's possible I've subconsciously found the idea from someone else, although I don't think so, even so, although I like the idea it seems old. I don't know why.
Idea 2. Use blinds in front of the stage. This restricts the audiences view to more or less straight ahead. Very Brechtian. I think this could work exceptionately well, far better than Gauze, which I hate. The blinds can be directed towards left or right, thereby pinpointing the audiences view. This I think is an exceptional idea. I know it is unique, nothing has been attempted like this. It only remains to find a show or script with which this idea would work. I suppose Hamlet or Lear could be done with it. I really love this idea.
Coming back from glasgow I could have sworn it was Mark Mardell in the seat over the aisle. Opposite me was a black guy. There are some people in the world with an aura, this was one of those people. People you'd follow to the ends of the earth if they asked you to. We exchanged pleasantries, nothing more. But when I left he wished me good luck. He had no reason to say this. Indeed he looked as surprised that he had uttered the words as I did upon hearing them. I thanked him, too hastily, and moved on before wishing that I had expressed the same sentiments to him. I felt a greater connection to this stranger on a train, belied by a few short sentences than to people I have known for years and had many conversations. Perhaps he saw the same in me, though I can't imagine why.
But I thanked him and moved on. And wished Godspeed and good luck to him from the platform.
Life proceeds, from, unto. Perhaps we need to escape that.
In Glasgow I went to the museum of modern art. Their oval room was amazing, It did things to the brain as you stood there. I also saw a couple of pieces which gave me inspiration for two very good ideas. But most of it was like all modern art, pretentious.
Idea 1. Have a stage onstge, portrayed by a rug or somesuch. The character cannot leave this space. He is conscious of this limitation. Beckettian maybe, but he never approached the subject like that. I think the idea is good but it doesn't feel unique. It's possible I've subconsciously found the idea from someone else, although I don't think so, even so, although I like the idea it seems old. I don't know why.
Idea 2. Use blinds in front of the stage. This restricts the audiences view to more or less straight ahead. Very Brechtian. I think this could work exceptionately well, far better than Gauze, which I hate. The blinds can be directed towards left or right, thereby pinpointing the audiences view. This I think is an exceptional idea. I know it is unique, nothing has been attempted like this. It only remains to find a show or script with which this idea would work. I suppose Hamlet or Lear could be done with it. I really love this idea.
Coming back from glasgow I could have sworn it was Mark Mardell in the seat over the aisle. Opposite me was a black guy. There are some people in the world with an aura, this was one of those people. People you'd follow to the ends of the earth if they asked you to. We exchanged pleasantries, nothing more. But when I left he wished me good luck. He had no reason to say this. Indeed he looked as surprised that he had uttered the words as I did upon hearing them. I thanked him, too hastily, and moved on before wishing that I had expressed the same sentiments to him. I felt a greater connection to this stranger on a train, belied by a few short sentences than to people I have known for years and had many conversations. Perhaps he saw the same in me, though I can't imagine why.
But I thanked him and moved on. And wished Godspeed and good luck to him from the platform.
Life proceeds, from, unto. Perhaps we need to escape that.
posted by Caractacus at 01:00
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