I Found a Key


Autumn in London always carries a magical, theatrical atmosphere with it. The unusually warm months of September and October are now sliding away and Guy Fawkes’ fireworks and a mild fog are announcing the first days of cold.

The anti-capitalists’ tents are still outside of St Paul’s, although there are rumours that many are empty at night. The theatrical feel that I get of London is a constant theme from the smallest streets to Buckingham Palace. It goes from fascinating to creepy.

Covent Garden, with its street artists and spectacular displays of lights and themed art installations, is an open-air stage. Yet it is not rare to see homeless people grotesquely sleeping under a pile of dirty blankets right on the side of glittery high street shop displaying piles of fancy clothes and shoes. Their shivering bodies illuminated and defined by white neon lights from the shop windows; make the cold penetrate even more deeply inside me.

My favourite theatre seats in London are the front seats on the top floor of double-decker bus. Not the London Eye or the Oxo Tower. They only give you a limited perception of London’s grandeur. But from the bus seats, you see everything, including what you wish you could not see. The young businessmen are happily enjoying their pints at the pub while an old beggar is sipping his beer can just around the corner. You see a beautiful woman covered in pearls and diamonds walking besides a pale guy kneeling down, while looking for some food or drugs in the waste bags along the pavement.

And London is all that, breathtaking beauty and unbearable dismay. Modernity and decadence. Ostentation and poverty. The fireworks are crackling and illuminating the sky with various tones of pink, green and red as people are getting on their tip toes in Theobald’s Road to see Gray’s Inn spectacular display. They only last for a few minutes, but those minutes are the theatre play for the night.

Tonight, as I got home after the fireworks, I was tidying up my room. Suddenly, my eye caught a glimpse of something shining on my carpet. I moved my desk chair, and there it was: a key. A tiny key, just about the size of a bean. I have no idea of how it got there and why, but I know it looks like the magic of London has unexpectedly entered my room on this cold night of Guy Fawkes.

Advertisements

I Remember / Mi ricordo


When he was a little boy, Filippo used to blush whenever the little girl with the red skirt looked out of the window. As a teenager, the thrill of going to the cinema with ‘her’ was as exciting as watching his favourite team winning the soccer championship.

(Source: Erika’s photos http://www.flickr.com/photos/korny_84/2673401977/)

The theatrical transposition of Aldo Nove’s book “Amore Mio Infinito”(My Infinite Love) follows the biographical novel’s approach of recalling through flashbacks the various episodes of an ordinary man’s love life.

The focus is love, but not love in an obvious, naïve or romantic fashion. Love is a concept explored through the witty eyes of a child who grows into a teenager and then a young adult. Love is funny and scary. Love is desired and rejected. Love is necessary yet fugacious.

Perhaps, the child’s journey in understanding the ‘game’ of love is a metaphor of his path in life: in the end, the adult will come to realise that there is no solution to understanding the game of love just as there is no right answer to the quest of the metaphysical understanding of life in general.

So, who better than a group of young talented actors could interpret a theatrical pièce centered on and dedicated to the world of children and of young people? The Tangram Theatre in Torino offered last night a beautiful interpretation of a play in two acts: the first act illustrating some excerpts from Aldo Nove’s novel, while the second part consisting in an experimental illustration of the actors’ own memories from childhood.

The red thread connecting the entire play was the playful yet serious exercise of remembering and recalling thoughts, feelings and emotions of the time before awareness (and, arguably, cynicism) typical of adult age have kicked in.

It was refreshing to see new and young faces focusing on small and big problems of childhood and youth, and, most of all, showing all of their liveliness and creativity through art.