The Review of the Year 2010

Oh, what a year it was! I don't think I will ever again have such a packed cultural year, sometimes an event a day. It's been a true pleasure and here are my best of the best:

Venue of the year must be the Barbican. Not every production there is great, but their generous schemes allow to broaden the mind with international theatre and abundance of classical music. And of course, I love the architecture with its mixture of ancient and brutalist.

I must agree with most critics that the National and the Royal Court had superb year with nearly every production on top form and I was lucky enough to catch most of them. Just a few to mention – London Assurance was the funniest play I have ever seen, Laura Wade's Posh explained the roots of the current political establishment, Clybourne Park talked about race like no one before.

The discovery of the year belongs to the National Gallery for it's guided tours – can't get enough of them.

War Horse and Secret Cinema disappointed the most. Secret Cinema is such a great idea, but they outgrew themselves and became a massive disorganised money spinning machine. The puppets at the War Horse were impressive, but the story and everything else is as ordinary as anything in the West End.

In the art galleries I most enjoyed the splendid Treasures from Budapest at the Royal Academy of Arts and Van Doesburg and the International Avant-Garde at the Tate Modern. While I visited my friend Sima in Rome in February, we saw a fantastic retrospective of Caravaggio's work. When she came over to London, we both loved something a bit more modern – a survey of designer Ron Arad's work at the Barbican. 

My books of the year are Ian McEwan's Amsterdam and Colm Toibin's Brooklyn. One Day by Davis Nicholls was charming and funny and sad – a guilty pleasure. 

Week 38

As the festive period is in full swing, not much time left for culture when you have all those parties to attend. Nevertheless, I found some time in my packed diary for the brilliant Les Parents Terribles at the Trafalgar Studios, part of Donmar's West End season. I can't remember the last time I laughed so much. The main lead acted by Francis Barber was fantastic. Barber’s Yvonne is a Parisian bourgeois mother with Oedipal syndrome - her son Mikey is her life. However, he is 22, falls in love and is ready to leave the gypsy caravan, as their home is known. The twist is that father, a failed scientist, had an affair with the same girl. All the secrets and scheming is conducted by Yvonne’s sister, whose precision and love for order contrasts with the mess in everyday life of this family. The playwright Jean Cocteau created Les Parents Terribles in 1938 and borrowed many devices from Chekhov and Molière. Originally the play caused an outrage and even in this modern production the family looks sinful.

Another week, another prize winner book. This week I read Anita Brookner's 1984 Booker prize winner Hotel du Lac. A lyric little story how a woman in her late thirties escapes London to a sleepy Swiss resort and solves her unimportant problems. I appreciated Brookner’s style, but there was so little action and I couldn’t feel sorry for any of the upper middle class characters. Thinking about it, out of all Booker prize winners I read, only a few were great. Mostly the winners are quite mediocre… but maybe it’s just my taste.

Week 37

The winner of the Nobel Literature prize for 2009 is Herta Müller and last week I read one of her books. I never heard of her and the Nobel prize is great to publicise unknown yet brilliant writers. Müller was born in Romania, but spent most of her life in Germany. Even so, her books mostly portrait the grim reality of Nicolae Ceauşescu's regime. The Appointment is not an exception. The book concentrates on a young woman's day while she travels to her appointment with secret police. She was summoned because of sewing notes into the pockets of suits bound for Italy asking recipients to marry her so she could escape the country. The narrative flashes back to her earlier life and little by little we found out about her family, two marriages and friendships. Müller writes like a spider mites its web – unseamlessly the action moves from now and here to the past and memories. The book is a good illustration of people's capability to live with a mad regime. 

After the Royal Festival Hall reopened to the public after £111m refurbishment in 2007 I saw Carmen in there, but it was so long ago and I sat so high up with the gods, I forgot how beautiful it is inside. The hall is very spacious and decorated in white, which looks quite minimalistic and clean. The side walls are covered with wavy balconies which to my eyes are the most elegant circle in London theatres and halls. Thanks to the interior of the hall I had something to concentrate on, as the concert by the Philharmonia Orchestra was rather boring. A safe choice of Schuman's symphony left the public unmoved, although it as very impressive how the conductor Christoph von Dohnányi lead the orchestra without notes – he had it all in his head.

Week 36 - Another Year; Treasures from Budapest

I haven't been to cinema for ages, so it was great to watch a movie on a big screen last week, not on our tiny TV. Mike Leigh is one of my favourite directors and his latest feature Another Year has all his trademark attributes. At the centre of the story is Tom and Gerri, a content family of a geologist and councillor living in London suburb and spending weekends in their allotment. Actually, their life seems so idyllic, that it is unreal. Throughout the year various relatives and friends visit their house and most of their lives are grim – much unhappiness, loneliness and overeating. However, for me the friends seemed realistic and human, whereas Tom and Gerry's life was too ordered. The repeated visitor is Gerri's collogue Mary. In her fifties and single, she is putting a brave face and also smiling, but we see that in her friend's home she finds desperately needed company and warmth. The characters are at times too stereotyped and the pace could be slow. It is not the greatest of Leigh's films, but nevertheless, enjoyable. 

Treasures from Budapest at the Royal Academy contains some true jewels from the Hungary's Museum of Fine Arts. When one thinks about cities with immense art collection, Paris, Viena and Berlin come to mind, not the smaller states in Central Europe. How surprising to discover that Budapest has a museum to compete on global art tourism market. The collection was started by Esterhazys dynasty, whose members collected art through centuries and donated it to the nation. In London exhibition we are invited to the tour from 14C religious art to 21C modernists. Raphael's icons, da Vinci drawings, Rembrandt's portraits, impressionists and many unseen paintings by Hungarian artists – they all here. How much more treasures were left in Budapest? 

Week 35

Everything's connected. A few weeks ago I read Omega Point by Don DeLillo, in which a character is a film maker. He mentions a movie entirely filmed in one shot and that caught my interest. The film is Russian Ark directed by Alexander Sokurov and released in 2002. It is a poetic excursion around the Hermitage seen through the eyes of the Traveller. He is accompanied by the European. The couple walk from room to room and meet many of the former palace residents (amongst other Catherine the Great and the last Russian tsar Nicholas II). They encounter not only historical figures but also today's tourists. So not much actions here, but what you get more than enough is preaching to the Russians by the European. It all does look poetic, but to the point of being boring. One is left with the notion that the director first thought of creating a film in a single shot and only then decided on the story. All in all, Russian Ark is an appreciative yet failed attempt to create a milestone in cinematography.

The final scene of the movie has a massive ball with live orchestra. It was great to recognise the conductor as Valery Gergiev from the many LSO concerts seen in the Barbican hall. Everything is connected. 

Week 34 - Novecento; Blasted

Some years ago I lived through an Alessandro Baricco phase, reading most of his translated works. Looking back now, I don't think this Italian writer is that great. Nevertheless, a sensation of nostalgia and excitement rippled through me once I got the tickets to his monologue Novecento at the Trafalgar Studios. Novecento is about a great pianist who was born on a liner to America and never set a foot on terra firma. The storyteller is his friend, a fellow musician who is played by Mark Bonnar. Bonnar pulls off the performance well and the one and a half hour flies by, although at times there is too much details and explanations. 

Disturbing. A perfect word to describe Blasted by Sarah Kane revived at the Hammersmith Lyric. Among other cruelties, there is rape, cannibalism and abuse graphically shown on the stage. But the play is disturbing because it leaves you with a wide range of questions. Some are rather technical – What did the playwright mean? Where is the play set? When? What links the characters? And others are philosophical – What is the point of war? What does it mean to be human? What are the limits of love? The play starts with a man and a teenage girl in a plush hotel room. The next morning we find out that there is a war. Maybe it's in the Balkans (but both characters are clearly British)? The hotel room is blasted by the bomb and the man struggles to survive with a soldier. That is the plot in the nutshell. Confusing and disturbing, but it was an interesting form of escapism. It doesn't have to be all West End and happiness, one can escape to hell to appreciated the reality. 

Also this week saw Shun-Kin by Complicite at the Barbican.

Week 33 - The English Patient; Tribes

My good friend Milda never watches a film adapted from a book she has read and vice versa. I think I will follow this rule myself from now on, as too often the movie is not good enough because the book was so much better. This weekend I watched The English Patient, a 1996 epic showered with Oscars. The film tells the story of a forbidden love between a dessert explorer and his sponsor's wife set in the late 1930s. From time to time the plot jumps forward towards the end of WWII where we see the main character badly burnt and trapped in an Italian villa with a bunch of eccentric housemates (a Canadian nurse, a thief with Cavaraggio as a surname and a Sikh kipper). As they try to find out the identity of the mysterious patient, his memory goes back in time and the love story unfolds. It is all tragic and epic with beautiful dessert shots and fabulous frocks. But I couldn't help to compare the movie with the book, especially as there had been so many changes made in plot and in characterization. The most interesting thing is that I didn't enjoy either, but for different reasons. The book was too poetic and the film too slow. 

Mixed feelings after Tribes at the Royal Court. Yet another middle class Jewish family on stage with their not very relevant problems (for example, the Guardian publishing an interview in Society section). Three adult children are back to live with their writer parents. They sit around the table and all just talk, argue and bicker, which is quite funny to watch. All except one, who is deaf. But he seems to be the most sane among them. He brings his deaf girlfriend home, who gets mildly shocked by the family's rudeness, and finally moves out, as the girlfriend helps to get him a job through the deaf community. That is the first act. The second turns all crazy with random kisses, lots of shouting and cheating. After the first act we compared it to intelligent TV entertainment, whereas after the second 'Where Did It All Go Wrong?' was playing in my head. 

Week 32 - Nearly Ninety; A Week in December

Nearly Ninety was created in the last year of choreographer's Merce Cunningham life before he died in summer 2009. Cunningham is probably the best known American avant garde representative and in his long career he influenced not only the dance world, but a wider culture as well. In his performances dance, music and design all play an equal role on the stage. His last work has all the trademarks of creativity and the name mirrors it (he died nearly ninety). Rigid moves, ballet-like leaps and inorganic relations mix with industrial sounds. I didn't enjoy it but didn't dislike it either – it left an indescribable emotion. 

At the monthly book club we discussed A Week in December by Sebastian Faulks. It is a Dickensian novel set in the current day London tracking the intertwined lives of numerous characters. In fact, there are so many characters with back stories, that not much space was left for the action. It is a true 'state of the nation' novel in to which an immense amount of research went in. The book contains detailed descriptions of how the Tube works, of the financial procedures in banks and hedge funds and drug industry among other things. A major fault, however, is the authors decision to invent new names for the items we take for granted and many places in London – Costa café becomes Café Bravo, MySpace – YourPlace, everyone listens to Girls from Behind, not Girls Aloud, etc. What is the point of it?

Also this week: listened to Baroque arias performed by Europa Galante at the Barbican and visited the magnificent Cadogan Hall where Vanbrugh String Quartet performed Beethoven's string quartets and yet again went to the most educating and inspiring guided tour of the National Gallery (everyday 11.30 or 2.30 – highly recommended!).  

Week 31 - Onassis; Men Should Weep

The life of Aristotle Onassis contains all the elements for a gripping play – a larger than life personality, famous lovers (Maria Callas and Jackie O), glamour and money, tragedy (many members of the family died in plane crashes, etc.) and a thriller twist (did Onassis pay for the assassination of R. Kennedy?). However, the just opened Onassis in the Novello theatre is a flop and a great performance by Robert Lindsay does not save it. Most of the action is narrated by Aristo's friend and business partner Kosta, but one does not want to be told what happened, one wants to see it on the stage. And that together with the flowery language of other characters left me longing for the end.

I will remember Men Should Weep at the National for two reasons – one of a great show and another of the ignorance and, ehem, stupidity of some people. The premise is simple – a very poor Glaswegian family in the 1930s depression, where men are looking for jobs and women are left holding the family together. The main character Maggie struggles to cope with her children's problems, with nosey neighbours and the mess in the flat. But along with all the poverty and hardship, there is hope, humour and a fabulously extravagant stage set. Since the play is set in Glasgow, the accents were really strong and it took a while to fully comprehend. At the interval a woman next to me asked if I am Scottish, because she was amazed I could follow the plot. But the top gag of the evening was being whispered behind me. An overheard conversation by two respected-age English ladies: 'I just don't understand why do they have to speak Scottish. We are in London, so they should speak English or at least have the subtitles'. I could not believe my ears.

Also this week: enjoyed Design for Living at the Old Vic with splendid sets.

Week 30 - The Double Issue

Do you know that special feeling when you start a book and from the first page you are absorbed and know that every page will be fantastic and the more you read the better it gets? You want to get lost in that world, for the book never to end. The book has everything you most value and most enjoy. Oh, that is the best feeling in the world and I haven't experienced it for a long time. But the wait was over last week as Amsterdam by Ian McEwan consumed my total attention for few days. The story is about a true friendship of two men – a composer and a newspaper editor. The author provides a wealth of background information on how things work in an orchestra and a daily's office, which added an enormous amount of pleasure to the clean language and brilliant observations of today's world. I was tired of reading average books and so Amsterdam was pure satisfaction.

One of the last Arthur Miller's play Broken Glass just opened at the Tricycle. It's a fantastic production with brilliant acting, especially by Anthony Sher. He is a respected businessman whose wife's legs suddenly get paralysed after she sees reports of Kristallnacht (this is 1938). As the play goes on, we discover that there might be another reason and not all is good under the calm facade of their marriage. As it is typical to Miller, there is a lot of humour and analysis of being a Jew in his play. But above all, we witness the pain an enormous love can bring to people.

Broken Glass was the best of the five performances I saw last week. The rest were mostly dreadful. Whilst waiting for the end, I fell asleep during Danton's Death at the National. A false blessing that there was no interval – not a long play, but I could have left on the break.

Krapp's Last Tape – allegedly Beckett's masterpiece with Britain's best living actor Micheal Gambon. It was another 50 minutes of torment. The recorded text wasn't very clear and jokes with banana as a penis were just cheap... As the playwright John Osborne rightly suggested – Tape's Last Krapp...

A little better was TEOREMAT from TR Warszawa (I saw their 4.48 Psychosis in March) at the Barbican. A theatrical revamp of the 1960s Italian film Teorema about a stiff family whose ordered daily life is distracted by an exciting stranger turning up at the door one day. The production had smart styling, interesting ideas, bare staging and good acting. However, it was way too long and the poetic moral in the end lost me.

Also this week I disliked Handel's opera Radamisto at the English National Opera. Why? Handel's music isn't my cup of tea, but I gave it a try. It is quite simplistic, the plot in the opera is silly and the decision to put one of the characters into a fat suit totally ruined it for me. I couldn't stand the distracting comical element that the fat suit provided.

All in all, a super busy week, but only few gems. 

Week 29 - Enlightenment; Blood and Gifts

The Hampstead Theatre just started its first season under the new artistic director Edward Hall with Enlightenment written by Shelag Stephenson. This season is meant to turn around the fortunes of the theatre which in the last few years lost it's track (not difficult to do that after grandees like Mike Leigh and Harold Pinter worked in the glory years). And what a weak start Enlightenment is! The story is intriguing enough – Adam has gone missing on his gap year travels, his middle class parents are in agony until he returns with memory loss. It turns out that the returnee is not their son and a pile of lies unfold while we find out what happened to the real Adam. However, it is ruined by flat acting (a wife slaps her husband and he just goes on talking – no reaction at all), clichéd characters (a psychic for humour element, an over enthusiastic and slightly dumb TV producer, a swearing former Labour minister) and fatigued moral message (we are good only when it suits us). Hopefully the season will get better once Mike Leigh comes back to direct Ecstasy in March.

The National yet again did not disappoint. Blood and Gifts by J T Rogers was a perfect political thriller. A young and eager CIA agent is sent to Pakistan to help the Afghans to fight the Soviets in 1981. Through his story the audience get to see the corruption of the Pakistani army chiefs, the humanity of the Soviet ambassador, the British inability in the special relation and the motives of the Afghan war lords. The play explains what happened in the ten years war that exposed the weakness and lead to the ruin of the Soviet Empire. Blood and Gifts is brilliant because we see many allusions to today's fight and the main character's personal story is interlinked with the happenings in the world.

Also this week: finished The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje, enjoyed a super educational and inspiring tour of the National Gallery (daily at 11.30 and 2.30 – can't recommend enough!) and watched a dance performance Monger by Barak Marshall at the Barbican.

Week 28 - War Horse; Or You Could Kiss Me

Before I packed up my suitcases for Malaga's sunshine, a long held dream came true: saw War Horse , a hugely successful play about a boy looking for his beloved horse during WWI. It is produced by the Handspring Puppet Company, who made fantastic puppets of geese, horses and soldiers. The puppets were amazing, but only that long one can admire them, as the story was slow and predictable with dreadful overacting. I found the puppets of humans rather scary.

That leads to another play by the same company, just previewed at the National, Or You Could Kiss Me. It is a story of a gay couple in old age reminiscing of their youth in the 1970s South Africa. in the present, they are bickering at each other, in the past - being shy and afraid even to kiss. However, in the end we do not find out why their relationship is so bitter. The puppets were scary and the puppeteers were particularly distracting. The play was constantly interrupted by the 'story teller', who controlled the plot and acted all supporting roles. As the end approached, I was wondering if there is anything I liked about this play. The answer: not a single thing.

Also this week: The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas divided us the monthly book club - for some it is an engaging society portrait, so other - a predictable unworthy read. Also, indulged myself in the Mediterranean sun and Malaga's old town.

Week 27 - LSO Season Opening Weekend

R.Shchedrin and M.Plisetskaya

My summer was really quiet in the classical music front, so you can imagine my excitement about the London Symphony Orchestra season opening weekend. The principal conductor Valery Gergiev selected Rodion Shchedrin's music as the background for the 2010/11 season and the opening concerts were full of his eclectic music. The atmosphere at the Barbican Hall was charged with anticipation as both concerts were practically sold out. The programme note informed us that the composer is in the audience and we quickly spotted him with his legendary wife – Maya Plisetskaya. She is a super famous Prima ballerina from the Soviet times and I remember as a child seeing her dancing on the television. The fact that this couple were amongst us enjoying the performance made it so much more special.

Anyway, to the actual music. The orchestra was at its best! They played Carmen Suite – a whole opera contrived to an hour long ballet. That was great, as you get the best tunes, only updated (Shchedrin finished it in 1967). After that we could compare the composer's progress, as Denis Matsuev delivered Piano Concerto No 5 from 1999. Not my cup of tea – for me, classical music ends in the seventies... Nevertheless, a standing ovation greeted the humble composer as he came onto the stage. The evening ended with Pictures from an Exhibition, which I wanted to hear for a long time, but only the last movement was memorable (gorgeous is the word).

On Sunday, Concerto for Orchestra No 1 was almost pop music – so jazzy, so catchy. I strongly recommend to check it out on Spotify. And then – an extra long (at least it felt that way) Mahler's Symphony No 5, although first movement caught my emotion with its heavy and grim funereal tread. All in all, the weekend was wonderful and set the tone high for the coming winter with the LSO.

Also this week: watched Shutter Island and loved its soundtrack. 

Week 26 - Floating; Jaadu

The Barbican is showing a trilogy of plays by Hugh Hughes. Two weeks ago I saw 360 and last week went to see Floating. Hugh Hughes is a character created by Shôn Dale-Jones and produced by Hoipolloi. Hugh Hughes is a storyteller with tales inspired by his family and his Welsh connections. He invites the audience to an imaginative world where islands travel around the Atlantic and grumpy bosses in London forces one to travel to Snowdon to refresh the mind. Whereas 360 was just Hugh standing on the stage and let our imaginations working, in Floating Hugh had a helper and lots of decorations. I enjoyed the first play without any multimedia distractions – there are too many screens and monitors as it is in our lives.

Jaadu with Titi Robyn and Faiz Ali Faiz provided us with an overwhelming evening at the Barbican at Saturday's Transcender series. A French guitarist and Qawwali singer from Pakistan fused Western and Eastern into one and managed to create something indescribable. I didn't want the evening to end.

Can't wait for next week - the LSO season opening concert at the weekend.

Week 25 - Punk Rock; Wanderlust; Clybourne Park

A super busy week in the cultural fields of London, but very exciting! It started with a revival of Simon Stephens's Punk Rock at the Hammersmith Lyric. It's a school drama about teenagers – allegedly one of the best plays of 2009, but left me angry and disappointed. No way these kids would hang out together in real life and use that sort of language. It's not worth describing much, just to say that I couldn't wait for the end.

A very different experience at the Royal Court, where they are showing Wanderlust and Clybourne Park. The Royal Court never lets you down and both these plays are simply fantastic. Upstairs in Wanderlust a married couple is having problems with their sex life – a woman wants tenderness and love whereas a man is hungry for sex. A simple traditional story, but it is told in the incredibly funny way by Nick Payne. I saw his previous play at the Bush, which was promising, and with Wanderlust Payne has proved himself as a brilliant young playwright.

Clybourne Park downstairs sparks fireworks. It is also very funny, but in here we laugh at the racism and political correctness. The play is divided into two parts. A couple in white neighbourhood sells their house to a black couple in the 1950s. That causes an outrage between neighbours and we witness their worries how the sale devalues their properties. In the second half the tables have turned and the same house now is being bought by a white couple and the neighbourhood is predominantly black. It's 2009, so there is a lot of politeness and talk about holidays until they open the can of worms and start accusing each other being racists. It's all rather delicious, although the fact that most is what people think is a bit worrying.

Also this week: at the Barbican saw 360, a very sweet play about imagination by Hugh Hughes, and visited Saatchi gallery to examine new emerging British art at the Newspeak exhibition.  

Week 24 - Secret Cinema

Some unprofessional pictures
from Secret Cinema

After a long wait Secret Cinema arrived! It built up the excitement by sending emails telling what to wear, where to come and what to bring. The attire to be Arabic and cushions to be brought, so we figured out the film would be Lawrence of Arabia. Meeting at 4pm on Saturday at Alexandra Palace. Around the station hundreds of cinema goers dressed as Arabs gathered and we proceeded towards the palace. Along the path market hagglers, soldiers and musicians greeted us. There were sheep, horses, even camels. The atmosphere was charged with excitement and amazement. We couldn't believe how much was invested and how authentic everything appeared. Dangerous looking men with ammunition belts round their waists ordered the crowd (probably ~2000 people) into the palace, which was transformed into the British colonial headquarters. You could purchase a thousand camels, play billiard with soldiers, send a telegram to London or play cards with business men.

Enter another hall and you are in a vibrant Arabic town with market selling cockroaches and leather shoes, tea cafés and drink parlours. There was even a beach! We were simply taken aback! In the third hall was a massive screen with places to lay out your blankets, sit on cushions and enjoy the movie. Until this point everything seemed like the best day out possible! But it was only 5.30 and the movie wasn't starting. After two and a half hours sitting on the floor one had either to get drunk or possess unlimited patience. After the amazing start the curve of pleasure was heading south rapidly. It was a canny way to make loads of money, as there were never ending queues for food and drink (what else could one do for nearly three hours!). Anyway, once the film started it should have been a bliss again, as Lawrence of Arabia is considered one of the best films of all times. However, there were serious issues at the sound engineer's desk – it was so loud it was tricky to understand what the characters were saying. LOA is the longest movie winning the Oscar (222min) so we had to leave at the intermission, as our ears started to hurt.

All in all, Secret Cinema disappointed me. It seems they overexpanded and overgrew loosing the intimacy and secrecy.

Also this week: was frozen to the bone at the Scoop watching Don Juan in Love under the stars and visited Magnificent Maps at the British Library and discussed Murder on the Orient Express at the monthly book club.

P.S. Sorry for disobeying my 300 words rule this week – too much to say!

Week 23

The Museum of London invested over £20 million to the new Galleries of Modern London, which I visited this rainy weekend. Anyone in love with London would love this museum, as it documents the life in the city from pre-history until our days. However, I find the Museum of London too Disneylandish. Hundreds of interactive displays, videos with actors dressed in period costume, etc. are great for children, but for adults the depth of information is missing and genuine objects put in pretend display cases loose their authenticity. The biggest mistake is to visit on Sunday – way too many families and lost tourists.

One of the most amazing concert venues in London – 1901 Arts Club – is a house in Waterloo, beautifully restored and kept to the period standard. Inspired by Europe's Salon culture, the Club is perfect for chamber music performances. Before the show you can enjoy a drink on the roof terrace spotting the trains zooming past you to Waterloo. In the season opening concert the Spanish mezzo soprano Nerea Berraondo and pianist Juan Urdániz presented a recital of Spanish and Argentinian songs. The mixture of subjects (love, humour, animals) in these folk songs allowed Berraondo to show not only her voice but also her performing skills.

This week I also read a humorous short novel by David Lodge. The British Museum is Falling is a story set in one day about a research student, who spends his day thinking about his numerous problems (3 children, a possible fourth on the way, his Catholic beliefs and unfinished thesis) and encountering many adventures. The book feels slightly dated as it was written in 1960s and many issues are not important for the present day reader. Nevertheless, it's a great test on one's literature knowledge as each chapter is an allusion to various writers' styles and motifs.  

Week 22 - The Beauty Queen of Leenane; The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao

Last week I experienced some black Irish humour at the Young Vic. On the last showing week I saw The Beauty Queen of Leenane by Martin McDonagh. It's a play from the 1990s painting a grim reality of provincial Ireland. The Beauty Queen is Maureen, 40 year old virgin taking care of and hating her old mother, who sits in the rocking chair and nags at her daughter. Their relationship is based on hatred and sarcasm, although they are two lonely souls and can't live without each other. However, Maureen starts a fling with a nice bloke, who came from London to see his family. Through her mother's sly plotting, she loses that chance to escape and the play ends with Maureen murdering her mother. The evening contains many gruesome moments, just a few examples: the mother pouring her night pot down the kitchen sink over the dishes, Maureen scalding her mother's hand with hot oil. And still in all this bleakness there is plenty laughs and love and some hope. The cast acted superbly, although Susan Lynch as Maureen was a bit too beautiful for her role.

The book of last week was The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz. I was attracted to this book purely because of the cover. Since I saw that boy in fancy outfit, some higher power didn't let me put down the book. The title also helped and the fact that it won the Pulitzer Prize in 2008 increased the need to read it. And what a disappointment! The story of the Dominican family spans through three generations and it is full of murder, torture, tough love and too much bad language. It reminded me of Vernon God Little a lot (similar language and pointless story about a loser). Never judge a book by it's cover – that cliché is proven to be right by this tome.  

Week 21 - The pictures

August is great to lie on the beach, but not when you are hungry for gripping theatre or awe-inspiring exhibitions. Worst of all, that there aren't any free tickets going around. On the other hand, there is always something happening in London, but Barbican is empty until September, I've seen everything of interest at the National and the big galleries don't have any exciting shows going. So it's perfect to catch up with West End circus and permanent museum displays. However, this week I spent at home catching up with good unseen films on the smallscreen.

Real Larry Flynt

And so the marathon started with The People vs. Larry Flynt. I love nothing more than a media person fighting for the freedom of speech. And might it be a porn mogul, but he's got exactly the same right to express his views (even if it's a cartoon of Santa with a didlo in his hand) as everyone else. And once you remove this right, that's where the problems start. Mr Flynt was so unlikeable, but so real, along with other characters.

Another picture based on the real story was I Love You, Philip Morris with Jim Carrey. A story of a con man, who meets the love of his life in prison. The film trailer makes it look like a cliché gay film, but actually it's about the ridiculous bureaucracy that rules America. The main character managed to escape prison numerous times, but the most shocking was when he faked his Aids result and even his death and no one in the whole system noticed that he was pulling their leg all along. In addition, there is a sweet love story and great soundtrack.

After seeing Audrey Hepburn on millions of postcard stands and Argos posters, I finally saw Breakfast at Tiffany's, which is really an old fashioned romcom. But back in those days people new how to dress and how to entertain, and you couldn't be ashamed admitting you watched it as you would after watching today's equivalent like Valentine's Day or something similar.

Week 20 - Inception

Everyone is going crazy about Inception, a movie event of the year, so I had to be part of this event. I rather liked the idea of the Matrix and people say it has some similarities. The premise is simple – a group of criminals and architects can transfer to other people's dreams and affect their conciousness. Surprisingly no one thought of this before (at least I haven't heard). Nevertheless, it's a great idea and the film worked rather well. Leonardo di Caprio with a group of 'characters', including a way too young-looking student are trying to accomplish a new mission and 'unpredictable' obstacles keep coming up. A fault of the movie particularly annoying and typical to thrillers – millions of bullets never hit main characters even from 1 meter distance. But otherwise it was an enjoyable evening spent in the cinema.

Also this week: started reading E. M. Forster's A Room with a View and not much more...

Week 19 - Earthquakes in London; As You Like It; Mid August Lunch

A packed schedule was waiting for me straight after my holiday. It all started with a preview of an epic new play by Mike Bartlett Earthquakes in London at the National. The National rarely disappoints and this wasn't an exception. The story is a staple – a dysfunctional family of three sisters and their hated father try to find their way in modern day London. Every character has their issues and global warming is high on the list. But what makes this state of the nation play extraordinary is the playwright's humour and Rupert Goold's excellent direction. There is no conventional stage, but a curvy bar on which action takes place and audience sits and stands around. This works especially well in clubbing scenes. The show contains off the press current affairs topics, remade recent pop hits and fantastic performances.

Can you consider yourself a cultured person and not enjoy Shakespeare? Well, I am one of them... Out of all the stagings of Shakespeare I have seen, only one was enjoyed – As You Like It at the Globe last summer. So I was excited to get tickets to the Old Vic to see Sam Mendes' direction this week. That was the last time I forced myself to try the greatest bard's plays. Instead of a joyous adventure in the forest of Arden we got a dark and grim take on the tale.

The week ended with a light-humoured Italian film Mid August Lunch. It is a perfect illustration of the Italian lifestyle – food and wine, an empty city in August and most of the people living with their parents (Italy is number one in Europe on this). As holiday season starts in Rome, Gianni is left with four old women to take care for the weekend. We observe his struggles to make them happy and stay sane.

Also this week: Just couldn't finish the kaka film Creation about Charles Darwin and thoroughly enjoyed Educating Rita at the Trafalgar Studios.  

Week 18 - The Late Middle Classes

The last two weeks I have spent in Lithuania, my home country. Activities here included kayaking in wild nature, lots of Lithuanian beer and not so much culture. However, visiting with friends from abroad and acting as their tourguide, I managed to take in some culture.

We visited the Museum of Genocide in Vilnius, which is dedicated to the Lithuanian struggle against Soviets. It's located in the former KGB building, which, ironically, is now transformed into the courthouse. One does not hear much about Baltic states history in Western Europe, so my friends were fascinated to learn the horrors and amounts of people transported to Siberia or simply killed. After a rather well planned exposition in the museum, visitors are allowed to inspect prison cellars. That is a truly horrific experience as you walk by torture rooms and killing area.

Just before going to Lithuania, I saw The Late Middle Classes at the Donmar Warehouse in Covent Garden. Simon Gray's play tells a story of a middle class family exiled from London to the Isle of Wight in 1950s. Celia, a wife and mother, excellently performed by Helen McCrory, is bored by provincial life and longing for London. Her son Holly holds this ticket – he needs to win a scholarship for a prestigious school. To increase his chances, a piano tutor is hired and a friendship between the boy and his teacher starts. There is lots of room for suspicions and topical paedophile accusations. As Michael Billington from the Guardian notices, the tutor is presented as 'a man who seeks to harness his instincts and turn them to creative ends'. And so, it is left for a viewer to decide what is the truth. As it was my first time in this celebrated theatre, the play was a perfect christening present.

Week 17

On location

Week 16 - Nevermore; Carbon Club

Two promising theatre performances this week at my favourite venues. The Catalyst Theatre from Canada brought us Nevermore to the Barbican – a dark and grotesque story of Edgar Allen Poe. I got tickets for it as soon as the tour was announced. Poe's life was extremely tragic and full of all woes one can imagine – death, disease, betrayal, alcoholism and poverty. The Catalyst Theatre promised to tell the story through gothic effects and rhymed songs. What a big disappointment it was! It combined all things one hates – circus miming, children's theatre and West End musical. The show was the last this season in the Barbican for me and what a terrible way it was to end an otherwise exciting year in this lively and diverse arts centre.

Another performance turned out to be as exhilarating as it was promised. In summer The National expands outside to the Southbank and fences off Square 2 for outdoors theatre from around the world. Thursday night was spent with Markeline from the Basque Country and their excellent show Carbon Club. From episodes of miners life (strikes, fires underground, friendships and girlfriends) they devise a narrative of 2 characters. Jose constantly dies in various accidents and Antonio, being secretly in love with Jose, always brings him back to life with a kiss. Markeline creates a mayhem with pyrotechnics, loudspeakers and the truly unexpected. When a burning trolley rolled into the audience at the beginning, people faces were marked with fear. Oh, what a look everyone had! Later we participated in a miners strike, in a striptease dance, in a wedding and a funeral. Carbon Club is a prime example of street theatre.

Last week I mentioned Cloud Atlas in this blog, and all this week I kept spotting fellow travellers reading it on the Tube. What an influence! :) 

Week 15

After touring the UK, Brazilian dance legend Deborah Colker finally brought her cast to the Barbican in London to show the latest production Cruel.

The piece starts with eight stylish couples dancing in a romantic court to an eclectic mix of Baroque and modern music. Everything is perfect and synchronised, but like in life and love, things don't last too long and dancers fall out. We join in a journey of passion and grief, love and disappointment of 18 dancers playing various characters. Colker shows the cruelty everyone experiences at some point in the life – be it in family, relationship or friendship. This performance was rehearsed for two years, which is especially evident once a couple dances on the moving table with a set of knives. Colker requires ballet training from her dancers and her choreography has strong ties with classic tradition, which translates into the beautiful result on the stage. Her style is accessible and eye-catching, especially in the second part where four giant mirrors are wheeled in to reflect character emotions. Holes in the mirrors allow the dancers to hide and appear again, to slide in and out.

This was one of the most moving and awe inspiring performances I have seen this year.

Also this week: listened to the last LSO performance this season of Harding conducting Bruckner's 8^th Symphony, discussed Robert Harris' The Ghost in the Zone 1 Book Club, watched an excellent French thriller Tell No One and started reading David Mitchell's Cloud Atlas.

Week 14 - Whatever Works; Food Court; The Necks; Everything Must Go

Whatever Works – Woody Allen's 39^th feature movie premiered this weekend in the UK. Most critics dismiss it as mediocre, but no one raises the question why it comes to the UK so late. I saw this film in Lithuania on my Christmas holiday last year. It's over a year since its release in the US. I suppose it's because the feature isn't great and they saved the film roll.

It's been an average week in the Barbican and, unfortunately, my weekly culture dose came exclusively from there. The Australian theatre sensation Back to Back showed their play Food Court with a disabled cast. It started promising with two overweight ladies bullying a perfectly normal size colleague accusing her being fat. There was a lot of irony in the actual fatties discussing never eating chips and doughnuts and shaming a slim one over her 'massive' body. But as it went further it lost the plot.

The soundtrack was performed live by the Australian experimental band The Necks. A trio of drums, base and piano play mesmerising improvisations. They were the best part of the play, but on Saturday night in their own concert the music sounded slightly boring. In the 39 minutes long piece a monotonic rhythm develops and is continuously repeated. Their music sounds great as a soundtrack but doesn't have the depth to be enjoyed on its own.

Also this week I saw Everything Must Go, a sweet tribute to the performer's eccentric father. 

Week 13

Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra' International Residency at the Barbican lasted for a week and I was lucky to catch their concert on Saturday night. Big Band Britannia spanned through decades since 1930s playing the best British Big Band jazz. I haven't been to a jazz concert for ages and this was quite a delight. Particularly enjoyable was music from earlier decades, whereas modern pieces were too 'groovy' for my 100% liking. Legendary singer Cleo Laine performed a couple of numbers with the orchestra, which definitely was the highlight of the evening. Her charming personality and incredible voice made the show unforgettable.

Before the concert I managed to catch The Sovereign European Art Prize exhibition. This is the only pan-European contemporary art prize, with artists nominated by art experts from throughout the continent. A wide geography allowed the exhibition to have a variety rarely seen in contemporary art shows. Admittedly the art on display was quite conservative, but that probably is exactly the reason why it was accessible and mostly enjoyable. My favourite picture was by Uta Koegelsberger from Urban Myths series.

Lars von Trier is one of the most famous Danish film directors known for his unusual approaches to the film making and exploration of controversy. He started Dogme 95 collective, which promoted independent film without barriers. Lars von Trier contributed to the movement by creating The Idiots, a story about anti-bourgeois group who spend their time behaving like mentally disabled in the public. The aim of their 'spazzing' is to release inner idiot and challenge society. It makes an uncomfortable viewing and does provoke debate about presentation and perception of disable people in the public. 

Week 12

It was a quiet week, but a good one. Thanks to Seefilmfirst.com I received a complimentary ticket to see Enron at Noel Coward theatre. I was rather excited, as Enron is one of the biggest theatrical successes this season. After a sold out running at the Royal Court it swiftly transferred to the West End, as critics went wild about this play. After success amongst audiences on this side of Atlantic (not least amongst bankers), it premièred on the Broadway just to be pulled off after few performances. So you can imagine how much I wanted to experience it with my own eyes to see what all this fuss is about.

My verdict – a good play with interesting ideas but not a ground breaking show. It explained the story of Enron very clearly, and was very topical for these crisis-obsessed days. How the crowd laughed at Lehman Brothers parody! On the serious note, it is a perfect illustration of what is wrong with current financial model – people getting filthy rich selling nothing! Wouldn't the play be funny, it would make one very angry. The fun is in actors bursting into singing, futuristic choreography and smart allegories (dinosaurs eating debt, etc.).

The classic music season for me ended with the LSO Summer Nights concert. They played Shostakovich's Symphony No 6, which is dramatic in begging with quite cheery last part. Shostakovich is one of the favourites with LSO, his music is performed very often, but what slightly unsettles me is the programme notes accompanying concerts. Every piece is associated with his struggle against communist authorities and how he was 'nearly' punished for it. That sets the tone for the evening, but I like to image other things while listening to the music, not necessary composer's struggles. 

Week 11

I absolutely love BBC4. Take Opera season, currently on. When normal people are out on Saturday night, I am glued to the screen watching programmes about Verdi and what makes a great tenor. These programmes are inspirational, informative, fun and, most importantly, makes you book tickets to go and see some live performances. Just looked on ROH website and tickets there are over £100, so I was pleased to see the UK premiere of Gerald Barry's La Plus Forte at the Barbican for free on Sunday. In the LSO concert Thomas Adès among his own work conducted this mini opera with Barbara Hannigan in the sole role. The premise is simple – two actresses meet in a café on Christmas Eve and one of her chit chats about her family gradually recognising that the other is a mistress of her husband. The mistress is silent throughout performance, and so you hear only Barbara Hanningan performing – she is not only a brilliant soprano but also a vivid actress. This opera is based on the 1890 play The Stronger by Swedish August Strindberg. The text is funny and full of unusual idioms, so following surtitles was essential, which distracted from full concentration of music.

The preview of After The Dance at the National failed to touch my heart with its tragic drama, but I was charmed by its impressive 1940s set, beautiful dresses and posh English. I recognised most of the cast from other productions and it was difficult to see a character on the stage, not an actor, as some of them always play the same types.

Also this week: saw Love The Sinner at the National and started reading The Quickening Maze by Adam Foulds, which was shortlisted for the Man Booker prize last year.