Is this taking protection from sports injuries too far?

When I went to see King Charles III the other day there were small screens on either side of the stage informing me that this would be a captioned performance and explaining that "Captioning makes the performance accessible to people who are deaf, deafened or hard of hearing."

Well I've no quarrel with that provision but the inclusion of the word "deafened" rather puzzled me.  Were they drawing a distinction between those born deaf and those who had become or been made deaf later in life?  Or did it mean that there would be loud bangs during the show that would deafen us momentarily?  There were no such noises so it wasn't that.

I remain to be enlightened.  Don't all shout at once, just in case. 

There was an item on the radio this morning about the success that the play King Charles III is currently having on Broadway.  This was attributed not only to the Americans' interest in (or even fascination about) our Royals but to the resonance the play has with the American foundation story.

According to the radio some factions would have not have fought against Britain had the King overruled the parliament's taxation of the colonies as they requested and the veto powers of the US president are a reflection of that.  That's what the play is about.  The King and Parliament at odds and I just happened to see it last night.

I knew nothing about it before I went apart from what the five stars puffs on the publicity told me and those I always regard as undoubtedly partial.  It's a fine production in many ways.  I particularly enjoyed the very theatrical opening when the cast come on dressed in black, carrying candles and start singing the Agnus Dei in Latin.  We are at the obsequies for the late Queen.

When they started to speak English I was a bit puzzled until I realised it was blank verse.  So it's mock Shakespeare then?  Well no, I'm sure the writer had no intention of mocking the Bard.  Like mock Tudor it's admiration and of course Shakespeare's history plays are all about Kingship and the relationships within royal ranks and power and whatnot.  This play is billed as a future history and it's very much done in a Shakespearean style and staging.

The language didn't always sit easily in my ear.  The Kate Middleton character for instance frequently addresses William as "husband".  To me that just sounded foolishly archaic.  Nor would I call any of 
the soliloquies poetic but it's an interesting listen.

The stalls were half empty, perhaps reflecting a lack of much interest in the monarchy amongst younger theatregoers because the audience had a greyish tinge. Whatever the reason it didn't help the atmosphere and a few guffaws broke out at one or two more melodramatic moments that do well in Macbeth or Hamlet but here required more suspension of disbelief than this audience was willing or able to summon up.

The final scene is a coronation and like the opening it's very theatrical and brings a sense of power and majesty to the climax of the play.

Seats in the Festival theatre are not very comfortable. That doesn't bother me when I'm fully engaged with a show but last night I had more than a touch of numb bum.

But the critics' bums are not in tune with mine as you'll see from this review and many others. Maybe the original cast would have done it for me but they're wowing audiences on Broadway.

It always seems to rain when I go to Glasgow but since it was raining here on Saturday I was no worse off.  I went over to attend the concert celebrating the 20th anniversary of the Scottish National Jazz Orchestra and an afternoon concert by the Tommy Smith Youth Jazz Orchestra.

Here they are in the beautifully appointed but somewhat unimaginatively named New Auditorium of the Royal Concert Hall.

It was an excellent hour and a bit.  These people are amazing players showing, as Tommy said, that the future is bright.

I had rather too many hours to spare before going to the City Halls and since wandering around in the rain didn't sound like fun I lingered in a music shop for a while, visited three branches of WH Smith, bought a book and used it to space out a very tasty meal of tiger prawns in a yummy sauce followed by sea-bass on spicy lentils.

That still left a little time on my hands but as crossed town I came across this disintegrating queue of disconsolate punters who had been too late to profit from the free food distribution that had emptied the white lorry.

Now the food being given away was boxes of doughnuts so I suspect this was a publicity stunt rather than famine relief or a food bank.  It could have been modern art I suppose given what I've recently seen at Tramway and what I came across next as I passed the Glasgow Gallery of Modern Art, known as GOMA to its friends (of whom I count myself one).

These neon signs are part of Real Life Scotland which is extensively and persuasively explained here.  Someone could usefully write up the Turner entries in the same comprehensible manner.    

The concert when I got to it was brilliant, one of the best SNJO gigs I've been to.  It was wholly dedicated to the Glenn Miller catalogue.  The band all looked as though they had been dressed by the same tailor as Miller, handkerchiefs peeking out of breast pockets and sleeked down hair.  They didn't throw their instruments in the air as you can see the originals do in this Youtube clip but they did pop up and down and perform synchronised moves in the manner of the time. They had also recruited some young singers from the Conservatoire to play the part of the Modernaires which they did with aplomb.

The music and the playing was wonderful.

I have to say the same about the SCO concert I went to this afternoon.  It was totally different music of course and a totally different set up.  This was chamber music; a string sextet and some clarinet and piano trios.  All music that was new to me and which I really enjoyed.  Here's one of the beautiful trios courtesy of Youtube. 

A well deserved four star review for the Grads production of Wildest Dreams by the prolific and perceptive Alan Ayckbourn which I saw last night and enjoyed very much.

The four short-listed contenders for the Turner prize are to be seen at Tramway in Glasgow. Andrew and I were there yesterday and after fortifying ourselves with some so-called Scottish tapas and half a litre of red cantered round. This is the corner of a room containing several similar groups of fur-coated chairs.  

We didn't immediately grasp the meaning of this work. Indeed Andrew dismissed it as "all fur coat and no knickers" so we sought enlightenment in the descriptive poster. 

Going with the spirit of its wobbly word order I suspect that many vintage women, and vintage men too, will consider this to be vintage art-speak that sheds little light. Perhaps it is as clear as day to the non-vintage social media generation.

It was nice to get back over the rainswept M8 to some recognisably worthwhile art, albeit musical art, with the SCO's joyous romp through Sibelius's Third Symphony.   

I've been too idle to keep things up to date and don't have the time or energy to write reviews in extenso but I like to keep a record so here's a list with mini comments.

Hidden was the Young Lyceum's party piece and although I didn't always know what they were on about it provided a fascinating tour of the theatre building from under the stage to the gods.

Pictures at an Exhibition is one of my favourite pieces of music but I don't reckon much to the pictures that inspired it.

An afternoon spent helping to sort out the Grads costume store was as exciting as it sounds.  Only marginally more exciting has been persuading audiences leaving the Lyceum and the Traverse to take a flyer advertising our production of Ayckbourn's Wildest Dreams that opened tonight.

I was caught out by the clock change and arrived at the Assembly Rooms an hour too early to hear Mary Beard promoting SPQR, her history of the Roman Republic.  I whiled away the time with a glass and a snack so it wasn't too much of a pain and Ms Beard was worth the wait though I didn't buy the book.

The last A Play, a pie and a pint offering was an excellent little comedy in which we saw how Dr Johnson despite his avowed aversion to Scotland needed five Scottish assistants to put his dictionary together.

Red Army is an absolutely brilliant documentary about a soviet ice hockey team.  Don't miss it. It's about much more than the game.

Sicario is typical Hollywood action movie fare.  There's lot of blood and explosions and shoot outs and I really don't think anyone should bother to see it.  What was I thinking of?

Tipping the Velvet at the Lyceum has been showered with five star reviews and it's very well done although the story didn't float my boat very high.  It was nice to see the theatre set up for music hall, quite reminded me of Kitwe.

You'd think that advertising a world premiere would draw the crowds but concert audiences tend to like what they know so The Queen's Hall was half empty for an SCO evening that featured not only 12 minutes of brand new Finnish stuff but a 38 minute UK premiere of some obscure Sibelius.  Maybe they knew and disliked the third work which was a violin concerto by Nielson but they missed a notably interesting evening.

The poster for Scottish Opera's Carmen featured her in a blood red outfit but that was nowhere to be seen on stage.  Not much could be seen because they played the whole thing in semi darkness. I was disappointed.

I'm not sure what drew me to the launch of Alice Thompon's latest novel but I got a glass of wine out of it and a wee chat with my German teacher and her husband who happened to be there.  I've never read any of her stuff and had only a vague memory of what I'd read about her work so I asked which book she'd recommend for starters and have since bought The Existential Detective.  It's set in Portobello so I'm almost bound to enjoy it.

There's a French film festival in town and I saw three films at the weekend. SK1 is a not very wonderful police procedural based on real life events redeemed for me by an excellent performance by Adama Niane as the baddie.  The Silence of the Sea probably deserves respect as a precursor of the Nouvelle Vague and for its various technical innovations but it wasn't very entertaining.  The Lady in the Car with Glasses and a Gun on the other hand was super entertainment.  The lady in question borrows her boss's car without permission and sets off to spend the weekend on the Riviera.  We follow her progress into a weird chain of events that gets quite creepy at times.  I loved it and was delighted to learn that the leading lady is not only an Edinburgh girl but James Bridie's great granddaughter.

In between films I enjoyed a non bonfire night party featuring food, drink and chat.