review
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Right, let’s get it over with. Oh no it isn’t and it’s behind you. I’m doing that for both my sake and yours, to remove any temptation to pepper the blog post with panto puns throughout, and so that we can get to the crux of the matter. Rumplestiltskin from The Big Tiny theatre company
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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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It’s been a month of quiet contemplation. Not to go too deep on a Thursday and stray away from the task in hand, but seeing friends deal with losses and feeling their pain both personally and empathetically, leads to existential thoughts. There are both positives and negatives to this, the former being strength and resilience
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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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I think if we were asked to write a list of our triggers, well apart from the very act being very triggering, I bet we wouldn’t automatically be able to put a comprehensive list together. The thing with triggers, is that we don’t always know what our personal ones are. Until they pop up and
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We three. Macbeth is synonymous with that opening scene with the ‘we three’. They swoop in, landing us into the story with a bang as they double double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble… They drop a bombshell, but then they largely step aside as the main players take it from there. Not
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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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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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This week has been rich. Rich in reminders of what keeps me living in Manchester, nearly 25 years after moving here. And it will be no surprise to regular readers (hi mum) that a mainstay of these reasons is the cultural offerings the city bestows. Over the last week, I’ve been lucky enough to experience
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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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It’s that time again, the popular PUSH festival has returned to HOME for a biennial celebration of North West creative talent. As HOME reliably (and accurately) tell us, over two weeks (our) stages, screens and spaces will be dedicated to showcasing fantastic works from around the region, as well as offering opportunities for creatives to
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The football pools. I was too young to partake at their peak but that doesn’t take away memories of the pools man knocking on the door every week and the parental mad dash to find the coupon, and random shouting out of numbers, each corresponding to a fixture that weekend…each a prediction of a score
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I was a little devilish last night. Provocative, even. But for the greater good, you understand. Seated in that glorious cavern that is 53two, underneath the arches on Watson Street, I scrambled to get a pre-performance shot of the set, uploaded to my Instagram (I don’t deal in shortening names – no Instas, no Maccy
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I love a bit of nostalgia – although it ain’t what it used to be (ha ha etc…). I started my comedy televisual watching career in the 80s (technically very, VERY late 70s) which soon progressed into the 90s as a teen (don’t you be doing the sums now). My 80s journey I credit very
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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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A sweeping state-of-the-nation play that embraces huge political and economic ideas in a magnificent gritty social drama. Nottage’s stunning writing pits friend against friend as social and racial tensions, once buried by a sense of solidarity, soon rise to the surface in this breathtaking drama. Divide and conquer. If it wasn’t for the accents, I
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Years, I’ve been in a state of tension. For many reasons, granted. But akin to a reality TV show fan, nervously scrolling through online forums, terrified to uncover some spoiler from the latest episode before they’ve had chance to catch up (I say all that like that’s also not me), I’ve spent years, years, avoiding
honorary manc 