The week started off with a last minute cancellation of band practice because of fears that should the conductor get into town from the snow stricken wastes of West Lothian she might not get home again.

So I went to the pictures.  I had a choice between Shell and Side Effects, chose the latter and wished I'd tried the former.  Not that it was bad but it didn't live up to the hype in the programme (do they ever?) and it wasn't any more cheerful than Shell promised to be from what I had heard of it.

That was followed by a much more enjoyable evening at a Scottish Dance Theatre show.  Not many people were there which is a crying shame.  The evening started with our being told about technical problems delaying things.  I was quite taken in and launched into conversation to fill the gap but was summarily and sharply cut down by my more streetwise companion who knew that this was a wee spoof and the show was actually under way.  There was some great crowd forming and menacing stage crossing that I've marked down as just the ticket for conspirators approaching their assassination target and a brilliant trio duel (can you have a three person duel?) in which each dancer took charge by performing an action that caused their piece of music to be played instead of someone else's.  It was like playing three dimensional scissors, paper, stone to music.

The second half of the bill was a tongue in cheek Scandinavian/Russian angstfest with a hint of Greek tragedy in which dead birds were thrown around and a stag (also dead) was dragged across the stage. Blood dripped into a bucket, a woman with a blood-soaked bandage where her eyes should be wandered around, shots were heard and various melodramatic scenes were athletically danced.

The story of Novecento the baby found on a transatlantic liner who grew up on board and played the piano as it crossed and recrossed the Atlantic seemed almost normal in comparison.  A French translation of this Italian play was presented by a Belgian duo at the French Institute.  Although they were two one was a non-speaking pianist.  This is actually a monologue, very hard to do well and this actor was very good.  He moved convincingly between his role as the narrator (a trumpet player on board the liner) and other characters and did a great job evoking a storm.

It's been a popular play over the years and has been made into a film but critical reaction has varied from those who think it's drivel to those who think it's transcendental art.  I've seen it twice and am somewhere in between.

Ma Vlast is probably given the transcendental tag by Czech nationalists if by no-one else and I thought I liked it but was underwhelmed by hearing it tonight complemented by giant images of Czech countryside, townscapes, woods, concentration camp inmates and other things  projected onto screens above the orchestra.  These were said to be illustrative of the feeling of the music rather than directly programmatic but I found them by and large distracting.  

The last of the current pie, play and a pint season was written by a stand-up comedian, whose first play it is.  Well done for a first effort I guess would be my verdict on this comedy with a serious message in which a drunken Glaswegian painter spars with his posh art dealer.  The message is to do with the waste of life in war and I shan't spoil anyone's enjoyment by giving away what happens.