Why I'm not going back to the Globe

What heresy is this? Well, yes. And I'm not exactly sorry. Over the years I've enjoyed the close-as-we-can-have-made-it recreation of Shakespeare's Globe many times. Indeed when I was studying for my second degree in English, one of my Professors, Andrew Gurr, was a consultant to the building project. He gave us fascinating updates on progress, so I've always felt a kind of tangential, or at least vicarious, ownership.

But I've had enough. There are plenty of things I could moan about, so I'll limit myself to the most annoying. First off the sound, or rather lack of it. I realise that projecting to the gallery across the yard is difficult, but you are actors, damn it, and some of you are so much better at it than others. In this last week's visit to A Winter's Tale, I could not hear some of the younger members of the cast. Yes, I know it's open air, and there are many helicopters flying overhead, but I still need to be able to follow the beautiful words, or else it's all dumb show. Please, please work on this.

And stop gabbling. I know you are under pressure not to test the audience's patience by being too long about it, but the need to get through the play as quickly as possible does not do anyone any favours. Several of the cast where speaking so fast that I could barely keep up, and I am familiar with the play and used to listening to Elizabethan English. The result here is that where the plot relies on explication given by the minor characters, as it does in this play, not only can I not hear them, they are so rapid as to be tripping over the words. Even worse, all the best jokes were lost. The one about the dildo, especially.

Note: for gawd's sake take your time. Shakespeare's plays are long. They are meant to be a whole afternoon's entertainment. If some of the audience can't cope with that then, frankly, tough, and go and see a West End musical.

And finally, not that the Globe can do anything about this, but, audience, please, what on earth are you laughing at? Read the play beforehand and realise that the first part is a deep psychological drama and is serious, before it turns into a romance that resolves itself with a happy ending. In the past, this has meant it was referred to as a problem play. It might be difficult, but it's not a bloody pantomime.

I think many visitors to London take in the Globe as ticking off another sight on their list of to dos. That is obvious by the fact that the yard partly clears out at the interval. I just wish they' be better prepared, as constantly trying to find something to laugh at spoils things for others.

Call me Perdita then, as I am fed up with the Globe trying to please everyone and ending up pleasing no-one. I want my Shakespeare considered and audible, so I'm going to stick to the National and the RSC, thanks all the same.

Le Foulard

Lucy Hopkins' current show, Le Foulard, which won the Prague Fringe Festival Creative Award this year, was in Paris for two performances this week. She has been touring it all over the UK this summer and early autumn and is heading off to Australia shortly. Lucky Aussies I say. If you are there, do not miss it.

Lucy has written and performs a one woman Art Show using four characters, or representing four different aspects of the self. It holds the perfect balance between wit and seriousness without descending too far into either. Lucy is a physical performer in that she uses her body to its fullest and it is a joy to watch her move. She also has a voice lovely and versatile enough to sing and more or less simultaneously translate La Vie en Rose.

Le Foulard is scarf in French and she cleverly uses a huge cape-sized one to signal the character changes, some at break-neck speed. This is a simple device that works most effectively enhancing the sense of movement on stage.

My favourite part of the show is her interpretation of Gloria Gaynor's I Will Survive in a thick Eastern European accent. Hilarious!

Tuesday at Tescos - Simon Callow - Edinburgh

I managed to get a ticket for Simon Callow's latest one man, or should that be one woman, show where he is a transvestite daughter (Pauline) to a more than unusually grumpy father on her usual Tuesday visit to him and the supermarket. It's an interesting piece translated from the French play that is currently taking Paris by storm (apparently) with a plot twist that I won't give away here. Callow is as one would expect is a brilliant, if unlikely trannie, resigned to being stared at every Tuesday in her 'home' town and not thanked or appreciated by her father, who is confused and ashamed by her in equal measure. But note to self not to sit too close to the stage again as it spoils the magic somewhat if you can see spittle flying. It's on at the Assembly Hall until the end of the month.

The Bird-Watchers at The Fugard

World premier run of Athol Fugard's new play at the theatre that bears his name in Cape Town. Part autobiography, part meta-theatre, and not much bird-watching (thankfully). Excellent performances by the cast of three. Dorothy Ann Gould's Clytemnestra extract was great. The reviews I've read have been luke warm about the play, but I rather enjoyed in it. Two acts and thirty years between them. I wonder if Sean Taylor's Garth is to Fugard as Prospero to Shakespeare? But that might be fanciful. Worth the money. Do go.

Broken Glass at The Fugard

Anthony Sher as Philip Gellburg in this late Arthur Miller play, first performed in 1994 in New York and 1995 at the National Theatre in London, and staged in London again with Sher at the end of last year. Not a play I knew. Interesting plot with some small resonances for South Africa. Sher was masterly in switching Philip's short temper and intensity on and off. Excellent supporting cast for this anatomy of a man and a marriage. Good device of a cello player drawing the eye away from the stage between scenes, so the resetting of the stage was unobtrusive. Well designed efficient set with simple colour palette and minimal furniture. The Fugard is an interesting building: part church, part warehouse, so worth going for it alone. Luckily they throw in a great play.

Taming of the Shrew - Maynardville

Last night of the summer season annual Shakespeare open air production. Played for laughs with lots of slap-stick which helped dilute what is otherwise a pretty odious plot. My least favourite of the plays, but well, if cheekily, localised in the prologue. I'm not sure what I think about mics as a rule, but last night they were definitely needed as the south-easter was in full flow/blow and it was actually cold enough to need a jumper, if not a blanket. I look forward to next year's production.

Richard III - Artscape

Wonderful production, ingeniously managed by only three male actors and a series of great costumes and masks. My first thoroughly enjoyable and very intimate experience of the theatre in South Africa as it was in a small studio. Highly recommended.