othello

It seems in London, as in Russia, it is often who you know that matters. Othello tickets went on sale last year, sold out within hours, and the prices on the internet soared to, in some cases over 2,000 pounds. Even rubbish seats were going for 500 and the guardian described the show as a “super luxury ticket item.” And yet, thanks to my collegue conar, I found myself last night in the front row, practically for free, with some of my work collegues from the fiction department of the bookshop.
Yet I can see why people with money would be willing to pay obscene sums to see such a show, it was amazing. As we left the theatre conar said he felt like he had been beaten up, and it is true that was the feeling. Othello is of course intense, but the intimacy of the Donmar theatre (we were close enough for the actors spit to land on us) and the talent of the cast made it even more brutal.
The cast was amazing: Ewan McGregor as Iago (hence the ticket prices) was convincingly evil and cunning. I had had some difficulty imagining him doing Shakespeare, as opposed to, well, trainspotting, but he fit into the part perfectly. Tom hiddleston was phenomenal as cassio (in some ways even strong than mcgregor, dare I say?). Yet the best of all was chiwetel ejiofor, who was Othello. The only weak link in my view was Kelly reilly, who unfortunately played Desdemona. Her reading of shakespeares verse was a bit painful to the ear, and reminded me that I was seeing a play, not listening to a live conversation, which was the feeling I had the rest of the time. But what she lacked was more than made up for by the others. The ending is of course brutal, leaving no possibility left for redemption or hope of any kind…, members of the audience were crying (a Korean girl looked like she had completely lost it and I heard a member of staff asking if she needed help) I was shaking and we all walked out of the theatre in a stunned silence, which is, I suppose, the ways things should be after watching such a tragedy.

from russia

I dragged rob off to the From Russia exhibit on at the royal academy of arts. I don’t go to the royal academy enough, and yet every time I do I am pleased. The current show (which almost didn’t happen, since the Russian government apparently feared for the paintings safety in london) looks at French and Russian paintings from 1870-1925. It claims to “explore the interaction between Russian and French art.” I am not sure how well this supposed interaction is demonstrated, but it was a stunning set of works nonetheless. Large chunks of the expo are made up of the personal collections of Sergei Shukin and Ivan Morozov, both of whom were serious collectors of French art. Thus there was a good range of gaugin, matisse, monet, manet and pisarro alongside Russian masters like repin, malevich, petrov-vodkin and Chagall. I had seen all the paintings before (in Russia) but never assembled together in one place (as in Russia they are housed in different museums) and never in a context that put them together, which made me see them in a slightly different light.
The volume and range of the paintings were quite impressive indeed, but the same could not be said for the audience, I think rob and I were the only people there under 55! I guess that is what you get for going on a random Wednesday afternoon.

A letter from the big man

As i guess everyone knows by now, the letter below appeared this morning in Granma, Cuba's main daily. After 49 years, Fidel Castro has decided not to see another 5 year term in office, and is leaving it up to parliament to choose someone else.
it is said the sign of a great leader is the ability and willingness to relinquish power. it took fidel awhile, but i am happy to see he got there (better late than never!)
i havent been in cuba in ages now, but i have wonderful memories of that beautiful country, and some of the kindess people in the world. i will watch with great interest to see who is elected next! i would like to see it be Vice-President Carlos Lage Davila, but who knows....?

Queridos compatriotas:

Les prometí el pasado viernes 15 de febrero que en la próxima reflexión abordaría un tema de interés para muchos compatriotas. La misma adquiere esta vez forma de mensaje.

Ha llegado el momento de postular y elegir al Consejo de Estado, su Presidente, Vicepresidentes y Secretario.

Desempeñé el honroso cargo de Presidente a lo largo de muchos años. El 15 de febrero de 1976 se aprobó la Constitución Socialista por voto libre, directo y secreto de más del 95% de los ciudadanos con derecho a votar. La primera Asamblea Nacional se constituyó el 2 de diciembre de ese año y eligió el Consejo de Estado y su Presidencia. Antes había ejercido el cargo de Primer Ministro durante casi 18 años. Siempre dispuse de las prerrogativas necesarias para llevar adelante la obra revolucionaria con el apoyo de la inmensa mayoría del pueblo.

Conociendo mi estado crítico de salud, muchos en el exterior pensaban que la renuncia provisional al cargo de Presidente del Consejo de Estado el 31 de julio de 2006, que dejé en manos del Primer Vicepresidente, Raúl Castro Ruz, era definitiva. El propio Raúl, quien adicionalmente ocupa el cargo de Ministro de las F.A.R. por méritos personales, y los demás compañeros de la dirección del Partido y el Estado, fueron renuentes a considerarme apartado de mis cargos a pesar de mi estado precario de salud.

Era incómoda mi posición frente a un adversario que hizo todo lo imaginable por deshacerse de mí y en nada me agradaba complacerlo.

Más adelante pude alcanzar de nuevo el dominio total de mi mente, la posibilidad de leer y meditar mucho, obligado por el reposo. Me acompañaban las fuerzas físicas suficientes para escribir largas horas, las que compartía con la rehabilitación y los programas pertinentes de recuperación. Un elemental sentido común me indicaba que esa actividad estaba a mi alcance. Por otro lado me preocupó siempre, al hablar de mi salud, evitar ilusiones que en el caso de un desenlace adverso, traerían noticias traumáticas a nuestro pueblo en medio de la batalla. Prepararlo para mi ausencia, sicológica y políticamente, era mi primera obligación después de tantos años de lucha. Nunca dejé de señalar que se trataba de una recuperación "no exenta de riesgos".

Mi deseo fue siempre cumplir el deber hasta el último aliento. Es lo que puedo ofrecer.

A mis entrañables compatriotas, que me hicieron el inmenso honor de elegirme en días recientes como miembro del Parlamento, en cuyo seno se deben adoptar acuerdos importantes para el destino de nuestra Revolución, les comunico que no aspiraré ni aceptaré - repito- no aspiraré ni aceptaré, el cargo de Presidente del Consejo de Estado y Comandante en Jefe.

enough said

independence day

one thing about working in central london, next to one of the city's main tourist attractions is that little happens in the world without you hearing about it rapidly. when benazir bhutto was killed, we knew rapidly, via a general announcement. so today when very loud honking sounds suddenly started blasting everywhere shortly after noon, we knew something was up. wonder who won? asked my collegue justin, assuming it such blasted could only accompany a sporting event. but that wasnt it, and all we had to do to figure it out was peer out the window- suddenly, seemingly in seconds, albanian flags had appeared from everywhere the street was filled with them, guys with cars with the flags on them were driving around honking. old women were sobbing, young girls dancing with the flags draped around their bodies. and we knew without consulting the news: kosovo had declared independence.
9 years ago, from my moscow-based perspective, i thought the bombing of serbia was horribly wrong. i knew little about kosovo and the balkans in those days, and the feeling of ignorance was no doubt partly behind my decision to choose south slav studies as my specialty at (moscow) university. not that we ever got the albanian side of events there. but the years since, many of which have been spent traveling extensively to all ex-yugo parts have made me doubt what seemed so obvious then. having the fist of a serbian nationalist repeatedly slammed into my face played a large role in this, but i dont think my doubts can be attributed to just this one unfortunate incident, nor could i base it on the incredible generosity of the serbian doctor who performed emergency surgery on me, saving my life, in a novi sad hospital with no running water or cleaning devices. things are too complicated to be reduced to such anecdotes. but now, watching from behind i london till, i was happy for the kosovars, they deserve their state, i just hope they will run it well.

elections

several big countries are having elections this year, i can only hope that they will not all be as fictitious as this one.

i am a cat

if you havent read I am a cat, you should. i dont write this just because i am one myself, but because the book is truely a work of genius. written at the start of the 20th century by a japanese writer i had never heard of before, it is a biting social satire on japanese society. it is told from the perspective of a cat, who lives with a school teacher and his family, whose every action and habits he describes with the level of distaste and superiority one would expect from a feline, convinced as they always are of representing superior beings. the book is massive, but well worth the read, as long as you dont mind embarassing yourself by bursting out loud on the tube.
but i am trying to move myself away from fiction now. i am off next month to south america, and i have a great deal to write before then, not least the lectures i am supposed to be giving while away. such a pity there are not 34 hours in a day, i am sure i could find a good way to use them.