burntcopper | Stuff, catching up, musing, High Society

First, most important : Wicked. 27th September. Apollo Victoria. :hyperventilates:

Saturday, meet up with the nutters of lj planned in evening, so I decided to check what ticket prices were for matinees. Billy Elliot was frightening, High Society was 25 quid for stalls, so went to that. For

miniosiris, the review boils down to : first half a little slow and flat, mostly due to not really having any of the bouncy songs, though the actors were good. Second half, 'bounce bounce bounce *squeeee*!' as it just charged through on bouncy songs and everyone being very silly. Uncle Willie is hysterical, and the male reporter - Mike something - has a body, he's not afraid to flaunt it, and is a fabulous dancer. Interesting point : most of the songs from High Society are on De-Lovely.

Pre-musical, pottered around galleries as had three hours to kill. Photographer's Gallery, temporary or environmentally-blending in structures. not bad. National Portrait, Schweppes Photo prize - some good stuff in there, and as usual, the ones that won the top prizes were not the ones people liked or found interesting, or that the gallery was using in the promo material. National Gallery, Tom Hunter's latest exhibition. You may remember him as the bloke who set up portraits of Vermeer's work in the modern day, so Girl Reading a Letter becomes Girl Reading an Eviction Notice. Gorgeous work. The new stuff was in a similar vein, using poses from classical paintings, but a lot scarier, more violent and normally dealing with crime and underbelly of society stuff. It's all gorgeous - the man is a genius of lighting and composition, I'd recommend it, but you can't look at it for long. Couldn't find a book of the Vermeer stuff. Dammit. Went to Dress Circle and bought a 'de-lovely' t-shirt from Anything Goes, and had a natter with a bunch of girls about 'argh, why are there so few fitted t-shirts, we are not American tourists who require XXL!'

I can report that the dinner at Savoir Faire on New Oxford Street was lovely, had a lot of traipsing around covent Garden/Shaftesbury to find a cash machine and a bar - All Bar One is frankly crap for spirits, they're all insane, mentioning Sean Bean can stop any conversation at the dinner table, and yes, they're all insane. Met Anna and Drew on the train home.

Sunday, up, canapes, guests arrive, over-eat to a ridiculous extent, tidy and wash up at 8pm - ended two hours earlier than usual due to people being away - and crashed, absolutely bloody knackered.

Slightly on tenterhooks about certain pressies that haven't arrived but were ordered over t'internet and need to be mailed to other parts of the country. These people will just have to get them late.