Nov. 29th, 2016

cyphomandra: boats in Auckland Harbour. Blue, blocky, cheerful (boats)
I am currently filled with the milk of human kindness (and rather a lot of ice-cream) - I went to the launch for Silo Theatre's 2017 season; the 2016 has been a mixed bag, and I've skipped the surrealist elk play after the reviews suggested it was much more interesting to act in than watch. But for 2017 all the plays look great; two directed by Shane Bosher (the previous artistic director, who has done so many plays I've loved), at least one of which looks having a high chance of male nudity (it's called Cock) and the other is a contemporary take on Streetcar Named Desire, not my favourite Williams play but I think it will at least be interesting, a feminist one called Revolt. She said. Revolt Again, a return of Hudson & Halls: Live!, a black comedy Shakespeare in prisons NZ (TOA Productions) piece with Rob Mokaraka involved, reminding me I need to write up his excellent Shot Bro: Confessions of a Depressed Bullet, and last but certainly not least a production of Peter and the Wolf with puppets, film and rotating narrators, which will be screening when my two are 3 and 3/4 and hopefully able to enjoy it. They did have the video with faceless individuals doing allusive dramatic things (last year in balaclavas, this year in rainbow sheets) but otherwise all much more promising.

Anyway. We had vast amounts of ticker tape dumped on us in celebration, and a live band with a remarkably unintelligible singer and then nibbles in the foyer, and then as the nibbles were rather small we wandered off to Giapo, which has very nice ice cream under a ridiculous layer of ornamentation and presentation experience (I declined the offer of a Yorkshire pudding with my ice-cream), and I ate an ice-cream that probably doubled my calorie intake for the day, discussed theatre, and finally separated from my companion and went back to the car. At which point I discovered I'd lost my parking ticket. I went back to Giapo with no luck, then the theatre with even less optimism, given all the people and ticker tape, but when I got into the stage area and asked a guy with a leaf blower looked up and said "Oh yes. I handed it into the bar." I should have left him a drink, actually, for saving me the $70 lost ticket fee, but these sorts of things only occur to me now.

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cyphomandra

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