Peter Pan @ Kensington Gardens

We went to see Peter Pan today. Whatever the high-brow reviews say, it was good. Peter Pan (Ciaran Kellgren) was rather annoying, but then perhaps he was meant to; and that “I believe in fairies” moment was thoroughly embarrassing, but then it always is. My personal favourites were punky Tinkerbell (Itxaso Moreno) and Smee (Ian Hughes) with his Singer sewing machine and mandolin. And then there was this amazing coat-hanger contraption of a crocodile. (Yes, the coat-hangers are prominently featured in the production).

Practicalities: the tickets start from £22.50 and kids get 25% discount (apart from Saturdays and Sundays). The show in is a big circus-like tent, so you can see rather well even from cheap blocks A and E, but try to get the higher seats (KLM rather than ABC). The nearest tube station is Lancaster Gate, from which it is less than five-minute walk (well signposted). Last but not least: try not to go to London during any industrial action that can affect your travel (that’s exactly what we did).

Kneller’s Happy Campers

by Etgar Keret

He is a brilliant writer, entirely different from any other I know. He is the voice of the next generation.

The quote from Salman Rusdie, that graces the cover of this book by Etgar Keret, was enough to persuade me to read it. Indeed, it is very much unlike Rushdie, whose writing style is not my cup of tea at all. For starters, it is short (less than 100 pages). It is not easy to write about suicide and be funny and touching without being nasty. But this is what Keret manages to do. He creates a whole world inhabited by those who have “offed” themselves. Like the world we all know, that other world does not make much sense at all. I liked all the crazy characters, and till the very end hoped that Mordy will make out with Leehee.

I told Leehee about Uzi’s dad, who calls this place Deadsville, and about how the people here all seem like they don’t want anything, and that most of the time when you’re next to them it feels like everything is OK, when actually you’re half dead already. And Leehee laughed and said that most of the people she knew, even before she offed, were either half dead or completely dead, so I was in pretty good shape.

銀色の髪のアギト

a film by Keiichi Sugiyama

Yuri got this DVD for his birthday but I only had a chance to watch it yesterday. Origin: Spirits of the Past is a beautiful animation which I’ve thoroughly enjoyed. True, the plot and imagery are “on loan” from Miyazaki’s works, especially Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, Castle in the Sky, and Princess Mononoke. Does it matter? Surely it does, but to me Sugiyama’s tribute to Miyazaki looks more interesting than Miyazaki quoting himself. The opening theme is sung by Kokia.

Martin Taylor & Alison Burns

I went to Òran Mór tonight to see Martin Taylor and Alison Burns. Just two of them, with songs from their last album, plus Martin playing several pieces solo (this, this and this). Alison sings with a beautiful accent, I want to listen again and again.

Again, this couldn’t happen again This is all once in a lifetime This is the thrill divine What’s more, this never happened before Though I have prayed for a lifetime That such as you would suddenly be mine Mine to hold as I’m holding you now and yet never so near Mine to have when the now and the here disappear What matters, dear, For when this doesn’t happen again We’ll have this moment forever But never, never again.

A Little Bird Told Me

by Joanna Eden

Jazz singer, piano player, songwriter and a resident of Saffron Walden: for the hell of me, I can’t figure out why I’ve never seen Joanna Eden live, an oversight I am determined to correct. (Why, she even did perform at R A Butler School last year!) I came across her debut album, A Little Bird Told Me, in Saffron Walden library. It is a beautiful collection of standards (God Bless The Child, Night and Day) and originals, such as I Don’t Smoke and Father’s Day (this latter still gives me goose bumps). For me, her version of Sea Journey is even better than Chick Corea’s.

One Hundred Views of Mt. Fuji

by Katsushika Hokusai

A few years ago, I ordered the hardback edition of this book from the Amazon Marketplace. The book promptly arrived from America. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a paperback. I have contacted the seller who not only immediately ordered the refund from Amazon but, to my surprise, asked me to keep the book. Which was very nice.

From the age of six I had a penchant for copying the form of things, and from about fifty, my pictures were frequently published; but until the age of seventy, nothing that I drew was worthy of notice. At seventy-three years, I was somewhat able to fathom the growth of plants and trees, and the structure of birds, animals, insects, and fish. Thus when I reached eighty years, I hope to have made increasing progress, and at ninety to see further into the underlying principles of things, so that at one hundred years I will have achieved a divine state in my art, and at one hundred and ten, every dot and every stroke will be as though alive. Those of you who live long enough, bear witness that these words of mine prove not false. Told by Gakyō Rōjin Manji

Father Ted

by Graham Linehan and Arthur Mathews

Father Ted was aired on Channel 4 between April 1995 and May 1998. Incidentally, that was the time we were living in Leeds and actually had a TV set, but it was not until 1998 when I saw the show for the first time. It was the first episode of Series 3, Are You Right There, Father Ted?, shown a week later than planned out of respect to Dermot Morgan. The whole series is excellent but that particular episode is still one of my favourites.

“I hear you’re a racist now, Father.” “What?” “How did you get interested in that?” “Who said I’m a racist?” “Everyone’s saying it, Father. Should we all be racists? What’s the official line the Church is taking?” “No, no...” “Only the farm takes up most of the day and at night I just like a cup of tea. I might not be able to devote myself full time to the old racism.” “Good for you, Father!”