Tomorrow could be boring

Oh yeah, we went to see Chinese acrobats do Swan Lake at the Royal Opera House (instead of, erm, Mamma Mia, the film)

When Katja asked whether we'd prefer to see the Chinese acrobats instead of Mamma Mia we didn't hesitate for long. Well, Timo did, a little, because he thought he'd never been to a ballet before, but then I reminded him that he'd been to see the Sadlers Wells Edward Scissorhands production (which was a ballet) and that actually, this performance was likely to be more about the circus and less about the ballet.

So we went - and it was gorgeous, entertaining and extremely corny. It felt as if the group knowingly hammed up the sections likely to cause titters from the more serious audience members - such as the slow-moving stuffed camel ridden by the lead dancer during the glittering harem spectacle, or the mechanical giant swan bumper-car that slides into view right at the beginning and reveals a dancer from its innards amidst clouds of smoke machine vapour. You'd have to be a little dead inside not to find these additions funny. I just hope nobody went expecting to see an evening of traditional ballet.  It was a great circus performance with some ballet influences.

The breathtaking highlight of the evening was the en pointe dancing by the lead ballerina on the leading male's head. Yes, balancing on one tiptoe. Apparently this was the heart of the original concept of the show, around which the rest of if grew.

The next thing I'd love to see is Monkey, which WAS showing at the Royal Opera House. It was sold out  and the run had ended last time I checked, but if tickets will become available again, I'm there!

After that, it might be wise to float down from the trapeze and see a proper play again. Or a proper opera for that matter. But I've got to admit, for the time being, these musical and acrobatic spectacles are just what the doctor ordered.   

Perfumery tour of London, anyone?

I'm almost on holiday again (in the timeline of my blog entries, "again" seems appropriate, as I tend to update more when I'm not buried under worky things).

I'm going to spend some time with my close, old friends Katja & Tuulia next week in London. We're probably going to make some museum trips (Tuulia likes museums even more than I do and she's visiting only for a few days). Science museum is always cool and we'll pop over to the V&A museum too.

On Wednesday evening, we're planning on seeing Mamma Mia in the cinema. Timo groans when I mention this. I can understand... we went to see Avenue Q on our wedding anniversary recently and Mamma Mia, the movie, is hardly in the same league. Still, Katja really wants to watch it and I do too. So there!

However, I'm probably the only only one of our little group who would love nothing more than to devote an entire day to a perfumery tour of London. I might just set out to do that on my own sometime. I even made a Google map to help.

Turns out the Chinese invented Breakdance

Shaolin Monks was great. A mixture between Martial arts prowess, energetic dance and stagemanship; it was a Martial arts circus. Definitely something to see (I could add the nauseating: for the whole family). There were spectacular shows of well-practiced moves, the circus-element of brick-breaking and balancing on sharp spikes seemed to appeal to the younger audience and there were moments when the cartwheels and rolling on stage held a striking resemblance to Breakdance.

The highlight of the show was a double-act by two very young boys - they looked like they were under 7 years old, but their size might have been misleading. They effortlessly sparred, skipped and hopped through complicated Kung-Fu moves with the sort of ease that usually follows years and years of tireless practice. Watching them was like an optical illusion that made the audience gasp time and time again; it was like watching miniature adults.

We did notice one thing - the audience was completely different from the last Sadler's Wells production we went to see. Yes, lots of families, but also people who looked like they'd never set foot in a theatre before. Many people arriving really late. Or talking during the performance. I don't care if it's your first time when you're 48 years old, but you could at least observe some polite common sense rules on how to conduct yourself.

Perhaps that's harsh. But seriously. Granted, not everyone was taken to their first concert/opera/theatre performance at under 5 years old, taught to sit still and focus, taught to figure out the plot of an opera sung in another language from looking through the programme booklet, but I do idly wonder whether common sense about certain things has to be taught too. Is common sense something you can, or have to teach?

It seems that many Finns still value opera, classical music and the theatre in the sort of way I was used to. In that you don't have to be wealthy, or in any kind of particular social class to take yourself (and your kids) off to see the latest production of The Magic Flute. At least that's the impression I get from the delightful film "Pelikaanimies" (Pelican Man), a film we watched yesterday. I bought it on our Finnish trip this summer, but we hadn't got around to watching it until now. Pelican Man is a simple, but delightful fantasy aimed at children, but entirely watchable by adults. One day a pelican decides to turn himself into a human by landing on a beach and putting on human clothes. The film explores human perception, what it's like to be an adult and what it's like to be a little boy whose parents have just divorced. There is lovely Finnish scenery and a beautiful feel to the whole film.