Chapter 38: My Last Day in London with Godot & the Buskers

What are we doing here? That is the question. We are waiting for Godot to come.

In many ways, I have come full circle: At Acadia University in the 1960s, I was required to study Samuel Beckett's 1955 English version of Waiting for Godot, probably for my favourite prof, Dr. Bill Bittner, an Irishman himself. In later years, my son and I enjoyed Star Trek: The Next Generation and became enamoured with Patrick Stewart, or Captain Picard. At about the same time, I became familiar with the young actor, Ian McKellan, who once made a one-made show entitled Acting Shakespeare, parts of which I often showed my students on VHS when we read Macbeth or Hamlet. Still later, I admired his film work, especially in Gods and Monsters, his modern version of Richard III, and even more when he became Gandalf in Lord of the Rings.

Is it any surprise that when I read that these two great actors, Patrick Stewart and Sir Ian McKellan, were appearing together this season in Beckett's Waiting for Godot, that I eventually ordered a ticket, choosing it for my last weekend in England? And then, by fluke, my seven-year-old grandson and I watched on the telly two nights before a half-hour programme about the staging and the rehearsals for the same production at the Theatre Royal Haymarket. I arrive four hours early to pick up my ticket, not hiding my enthusiasm too well! My grandson had wondered if he could come, but I had found the last good seat. (It happened that there was an empty seat behind mine, but nothing could be done about it. I am also given the opportunity to buy an even better seat nearer the front, but to do so I would have had to forfeit the $100 cost of the ticket I already had and pay even more. My seat is fine.) People line up to pay £41 for seats from which one can only see half of the stage!

The first theatre here, the "Little Theatre in the Hay," was built in 1720. In 1820 the Buckingham Palace architect, John Nash, designed the new Theatre Royal Haymarket in his Regency style, and essentially this is the same theatre in use today. Although refurbished more than once, the plush and sumptuous interior is much the same as it was earlier, although the more modern seats were installed in about 1904. The show on television showed workers repairing broken seats, right up to the Premiere this spring. In fact, one seat is being repaired during the Interval today. An interesting tidbit has John Guilgud producing plays here during the War, sleeping in Dressing Room 10 during the Blitz. We are told that it was business as usual during the War. In 1994, a £1.3 million refurbishment was completed, apparently including the application of 1200 books of 24-carat English gold leaf in the auditorium. (A word I often hear Brits using is "brilliant." In some way it correctly describes the total effect of the gilding. Today the interiors of many theatres assault the audience with ugliness; there is something quite pleasant about watching theatre in such a splendid environment.)
It is made quite clear by the young ushers that photography inside the theatre is forbidden. I am in my seat thirty minutes early--the first one seated--and I take out my camera and sneak a shot before anyone notices---it does not turn out! Later, I review pictures taken earlier at Covent Gardens. A polite lass comes over and whispers to me to remember that photography is prohibited!
What must I say about the performance itself? First, I know something about the theatre; both my parents were actors, and some of my earliest memories are of sitting patiently in theatres as they rehearsed dramatic productions. My grandson was impressed to know that I was in my first play at age 8, as a pageboy in one of the Richard plays, on Acadia University's stage. I continued performing in plays until I was about sixteen; my son is a professional actor.

I think the production is superb; the set and lighting is as sparse and desolate, yet as believable at Beckett intended. The lone(ly) tree upon which Estragon and Vladimir plan to hang themselves (or not) commands the stage; the image of its newly acquired three leaves as the second act opens evokes all sorts of feelings and ideas. I go to the stage to look at the set during the Interval; it is as real as its unreality requires it to be, even close up, built of great 2-inch planks, sloping upwards to the back of the stage towards the ruins of the wall surrounding the church.

Sir Ian McKellan is a better actor than Patrick Stewart, with a wider range of facial and bodily gestures and a more flexible voice; a couple of times, I imagined I was hearing Captain Picard intruding into Vladimir's character. Yet, in their physical presence on the stage they are both excellent, especially when they are being comical. The scene in which Vladimir and Estragon switch hats back and forth, adding Lucky's, is especially well done. Not forgetting the other characters: Simon Callow as Pozzo and Ronald Pickup as Lucky are also excellent. In fact, the only actor who is applauded during the performance is Pickup, at the end of his single speech in the play. It is quite astounding. Amongst many, another memorable scene is one in which Vladimir has Estragon roll up his trouser legs to "prove" that Lucky had kicked him in the shins. Not only is it funny, but I winced when I saw his bare legs, covered with dirt and sores. Perhaps it is in such details that the production succeeds so well. Perhaps it is in the lines and words that the characters speak: A favourite of mine: "We are all born mad; some remain so." Certainly, many cannot understand all of what Beckett intended. McKellan is quoted in the programme:

I was frightened of the play when we started rehearsals, because I've not seen a production that I was at ease with totally. I thought the play was a bit obscure. That means either I was being a bad audience or those productions weren't as good as they might've been, because now we're delving into it I see that it is rich, heart-warming and joyful. It's going to be a wonderful play to perform.

I am not alone in feeling that it is also a wonderful play to watch, not finding it obscure, but rich, heart-warming and joyful.

I spend some time wandering about Piccadilly Circus--avoiding the Piccadilly Commandos--and enjoy this vibrant part of London, full of tourists.

Swiss Court is marked by this unusual sign: it is called the Cantonical Tree and features the coats of arms of the 26 Cantons of Switzerland. The Court was opened in 1991 to honour the United Kingdom's "lasting friendship" with Switzerland.
Regent Street opens off Piccadilly Circus. My guidebook tells me to come in December to see it decorated with Christmas Lights. OK. Now on my "To Do List" for another visit.

Of course, there are dozens of theatres in the West End, many of which are big shows. I wander about looking at marquees.

I spend part of the day visiting Covent Gardens, originally designed by Inigo Jones as the fashionable place to live in London; it did not remain such for long as fruit and vegetable markets became established there, and by the mid-18th century, the Piazza itself had turned into seedy lodgings, gambling dens, brothels and taverns. Today, the whole district has assumed the name of the original and is full of shops, and restaurants of every kind.
The Seven Dials Monument is located where seven roads converge at this intersection. The original monument was built in about 1690 and removed in about 1773. A replacement was erected here in 1988-1989. Curiously, there are only SIX sundials on the Seven Dials monument. (Some believe the mystery is based on there only being six roads here originally; others believe the column itself is the seventh dial.)

Down tiny little Rose Street I come upon "The Lamb and Flag," one of London's oldest pubs, built in 1623.

On Bow Street I find the Royal Opera House, where many of the world's greatest opera singers have performed. For some reason, I never developed by father's passion for opera.

Located on Bow Street is the Bow Street Magistrate's Court, next to Broad Court, where I find this wonderful little sculpture.

Entitled "Young Dancer" it was created by Enzo Plazzotta (1921-1981) and installed in 1988, a gift from his estate.

"The White Lion" is just one of dozens of well maintained public houses throughout this district. At least these aren't amongst the fifty pubs closing in the UK every week.

I chance upon the Freemasons' Hall, an imposing art deco building, covering two and one quarter acres; it was built 1927-1933 as a memorial to the many Freemasons who died on active service in the First World War. Initially known as the Masonic Peace Memorial, it reverted to the name Freemasons' Hall at the outbreak of war in 1939.Opposite the Covent Garden Piazza and Central Market is St Paul's Church, designed in 1633 by Inigo Jones, in the style of the Italian Renaissance architect, Andrea Palladio.
By 1828, the wholesale produce market at Covent Garden had become the largest in the country, and a market hall was erected to ease congestion. Since the Market moved elsewhere in 1973, the site has been re-developed to become one of London's liveliest areas, full of street entertainers or buskers and crowds of visitors.

It is time to leave London through one of the ubiquitous Underground Stations. This one requires I use the lift or walk down 193 steps! HAH!

I now know all about Marylebone Station, Oyster Cards, steep escalators and over-crowded Underground trains. I do not particularly care for the surging crowds, or standing back to back or belly to belly in the subway cars.

Serenity only returns once in the countryside heading back towards Oxfordshire, seeing green field like those below. (Bill Bryson commented that Britain's greatest crop should be considered chlorophyll!) I have completed another successful visit to London; in fact, I have seen most of what one ought to see, I suppose, but I like it so much I will gladly go back if the chance comes again.

"What do we do now that we are happy?" Vladimir asks Estrogon.

I cannot presume to speak for them, but now I must end this chapter and return to Canada. I have enjoyed blogging and hope you have enjoyed sharing my travels with me. With any luck, we can do it again in a year or so.

Farewell until then.