Don't even ask...I think that may have been the most bizarre thing I've ever seen onstage, and I have no language to deal with it. I don't remember being so totally banjaxed by the original production, but all I can actually recall of that is a primitive image of O's head floating down the river.
It ran over the three and a half hours estimated, and all. It's not something I'd want to sit through again, although Birtwhistle's eerie music always affects me strongly. Quite a few people left early, applause was polite, but got louder for the cast, and I assume, Birtwhistle himself, who was in the building. I was on my way down the stairs as soon as the curtain fell. I'm not knocking it, though. Its sheer strangeness makes it worthwhile, and it stays with you.
Buses on divert again, but I'd left early, so it wasn't a big problem, except when the taxi nearly hit me.
I was very lucky to just catch an 87 home, but still didn't get in until nearly 10:30. I'm still so tired.
Walked to Clapham Junction after the park, and wearily started back, but then it rained and I resorted to the bus. Phooey.
#Inktober / Doodlediary: