Saw the new Enda Walsh at Druid last night - a particularly fine example of a very particular type of Irish play. The shadow of Ireland's great writers lies long over the work of many contemporary Irish playwrights, but in The New Electric Ballroom the echoes of Beckett feel playful and justified, and the rewards for an audience who stick with this fine stab of thwarted love and trapped emotions in a small seaside town are considerable. Beautiful performances all round from a very strong cast.
Good story in the pub last night. Apparently, Beckett was once accosted in the streets of Paris by a man who professed to being a mime artist from Dublin. Beckett - terrified, backed up against a wall, and in any case believing the Irish to be the most non-physical of all peoples, replied, simply: "Swiss Navy", and legged it. (Think about it...)
Am being ably and staunchly looked after by Literary Manager Thomas Conway, himself in the throes of rehearsal for a play which opens next week.
There's something very open and fluid about festivals - people are up for a chat and you are never on your own for a second. Every town should have one!
Alan Pollock
No comments:
Post a Comment