Lowry
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It’s been an emotional week. I don’t think I’m alone in having an unconditional love for animals, whereas my love or actual like for humans is (with exceptions) deeply conditional. Having had more trips to the vet that one would like this week (although an amazing vet – shout-out to MCR vets on The Quays),
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I was sat next to a very nice lady at last night’s performance. She turned to me during the interval to ask how I was enjoying it so far. Really enjoying it, I said. I’ve never seen an opera by composer Benjamin Britten before. She responded that he is her favourite operatic composer. I can
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Foolish decisions I made in my youth (heavily censored – the actual 3am rumination stuff, I’m not ready to talk about…) In the grand scheme of the fictional murder mystery genre, it’s time for my confession (there’s always a inexplicable full explanation confession – ‘not guilty’ as a response doesn’t appear to be a viable
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Right I’m going to hang myself out to dry here. But it’s for the greater good. I don’t know why, I don’t know how. But I missed IDEAL the first time around…. Johnny Vegas stars as Moz, Manchester’s longest serving weed dealer, in a dope opera of epic proportions. Starring some of the hit BBC
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It was really really really really really really good! That’s 6 reallys from a 5 year old. And in a world with much competing for little ones’ attention, that’s no mean feat. Get ready to sing, dance, and celebrate with your favourite CBeebies stars – the ultimate CBeebies House Party Live! is coming to Lowry, Salford… and you’re
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Diana, Princess of Wales, punctuates my memories on occasion. Sporadically, but meaningfully. Occasion 1 – one of my earliest memories is of a humble plastic flag. A Union Jack plastic little flag on a plastic white stick, provided to me in 1981 to fervently and obediently wave inside my childhood home. 2 and a few
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This timeless, powerful story takes you on a thrilling journey through the final 24 hours of Willy Loman’s life, filled with his memories, dreams, struggles and pitting a Father’s expectations against his sons’ realities. This powerful and moving story explores the sacrifices people make in pursuit of the ‘American Dream’. Heart-breaking and thought-provoking, it’s a timeless
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I hope Nathaniel Hall won’t mind me adding in those brackets. But it’s quite integral to my blog post, because you see I’ve had the pleasure of seeing Toxic before. It premiered at HOME in the October of 2023, and I went, I saw, I felt and I duly did write. But when I was
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When little, on a family holiday to Austria, my Dad, a professional pianist, wanted to take me to Mozart’s birthplace in Salzburg, now housing a museum to the incredible composer. It was sadly not to be for, upon arrival, we were told that I was too young to gain entry (lest I maraud around, climbing
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Can’t drive, won’t drive, refuse to drive. I’ve a whole story about a wing mirror and a driving instructor that was part tutor part devil-man egomaniac in charge of a set of dual controls. But that’s not for now. What I’m saying is that as a result, I am the girl on the train/tram/bus. And
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Jesus Christ Superstar indeed. I loved it. Absolutely loved it. Hoping for a more sophisticated, somewhat less basic lead in to a blog post review of my theatrical experience of a production in the Greater Manchester area? I choose childlike exuberance on this occasion. My regular reader will be more than au fait with the
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An Imitating the Dog and Leeds Playhouse co-production, directed by Andrew Quick, Pete Brooks and Simon Wainwright, and performed by Georgia-Mae Myers and Nedum Okonyia. A storm gathers outside. In an ordinary home, the lights flicker, a radio crackles, and an extraordinary tale begins. As a couple confront their own fears about impending parenthood, the
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New year, and much musing and reviewsing to look forward to for this Honorary Manc. Entering my 24th year as a resident in this beautiful little city, and more in love with it than ever, let’s kick-start 2024 with a dark and dastardly thriller at the theatre. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin… Well
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I’ve been tussling with this. I’ve been going back and forth. The grown up writer in me (it’s there somewhere) tells me to not be so obvious, cliched and obvious again. The forever child in me behind the blog reminds me that I’m here to document my experiences, thoughts, feelings, passions, obsessions and delectations. Yes
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It’s been so long. So long since I’ve got lost trying to find which door I need to enter to take my seat even though I’ve been a hundred times before. So long since I’ve gone up and down rows trying to find my seat number even though I’ve been a hundred times before. So
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Will Self has written his memoir, Will, and we should all rejoice. Almost as much as I rejoiced when he took part in the Geordie Jumpers sketch on Shooting Stars. Yes I know his incredible back catalogue of daring and original writing and I bring Geordie Jumpers into it (oh just Google it and thank
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One of my favourite sketches, amongst thousands (which, incidentally, does not include the bloody parrot one), is Monty Python’s irreverent (could it be anything else) look at working class life: https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2q1ojy Turning matters on their head, whilst t’father in ‘is rolled up sleeves, braces and britches, sweats over his work as an award-winning playwright in
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I haven’t been to the circus since 1985. Well that was true until a couple of weeks ago. Circuses (circii?) are like buses etc etc. People with a passion for reading about circus-based shows showing in Manchester in August by a local blogger, will be familiar with the anecdote told in my post Theatre review:
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Billed as Sting’s personal, political and passionate musical, this was a ship that I wasn’t prepare to let sail by without an inquisitive look. On a tour of UK and Ireland, The Last Ship sailed into the Quays last night, making its debut at The Lowry theatre. I have already used two puns both based
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I’ve been commuting since I was 12 years old, getting the bus to school, 2.9miles away (that 0.1 is very important given that it disqualified me from the free bus pass that the elusive and illustrious 3 mile commute brought you). Buses gave way to trains once starting uni and then work, and I seriously
honorary manc 