London II: Meetings and Museums
Thursday was devoted to meeting friends and paying homage to gay geniuses (genii?) with tragic endings courtesy of the British penalty code. I also renewed my reader access at the British Library, which is ever so useful if you're into research in any way.
Meeting
kathyh was fabulous. We checked out an exhibition at the Victoria & Albert about the contacts between Tudors, Stuarts and the Russian czars, which didn't miss to point out Ivan the Terrible was one of the candidates for Elizabeth's hand, which, well, the mind, it boggles. Sadly there was no mention of Orlando despite the fact there was a lot of the Muscovy trade organization and Virginia Woolf made that connection immortal. Also, the portrait of young prince Charles, the later Charles I., weirded me put because I'm not used to him clean shaven without even a hint of a Van Dyck beard or mustache.
After having some tea at a nearby café, we headed of to the Science Museum to see the Alan Turing exhibition. Which boasts of several of the early computers he's responsible for, and looking at them is a bit like watching a 60s (not a 40s!) sci fi movie. There were also several Enigma machines, one of which was lend by, as the note dutifully informed us, "Sir Michael Jagger, Musician" who currently owns it. It's a small world, I tell you.
(As part of the video background they have one of our ghastly WWII propaganda news shows running on a loop, but since I doubt many of the current day visitors actually speak German, I wonder about the point - or maybe it's that the sound of the language already sounds sinister to English ears? Anyway, the Wochenschau in question announces the upcoming invasion which never happened due to Mr. Turing and friends at Bletchley Park, so I see the point of the content, it's just that some subtitles would have been useful for the non German visitors, I guess?)
At first I thought the exhibition was being censored when it came to Turing's treatment in the 50s, but no: that was simply a later section. Also I learned that there are doubts about his death being suicide, which was news to me. I mean, my inner cynical conspiracy theorist is entirely willing to believe the government, not content with having inflicted chemical castration on him, actually offed him, but I hadn't expected such an ominous hint in a national museum. On the shallow side, the photos of Alan Turing which were used all make him look incredibly dashing.
In the evening, I had another great get together, with
rozk this time, who went to see David Hare's play The Judas Kiss with me, which is about Oscar Wilde, the first act about his fatal decision to stay in England instead of fleeing to France after his first trial, and the second about his final time and eventual break up with Bosie in Naples post prison. Rupert Everett was Oscar, Freddie Fox (related to Emilia and Edward, so Kathy told me) was Bosie, and Cal Macaninch the much put upon Robbie Ross. Also we were treated to two male nudes on the form of Ben Hardy (a waiter) and Tom Colley (an Italian fisherman). I'm not sure about the play as such, because the first act already makes it premise abundantly clear - Bosie is a ghastly narcisissist and Oscar sticks it out anyway because he needs to believe in this love of his life thing, or the whole disaster was for nothing, meaning the second act is sort of self evident - but it does work as a character portrait, and Hare, who proves immense guts by tackling a master of the dramatic art and the aphorism like Oscar Wilde and writing dialogue for him, manages to make said dialogue sound natural, not a series of pre approved soundbites. (He's very restrained about using actual Wilde lines, but still everything sounds as if Oscar could have said it, which is the point.) Everett gets to be in turn moving, funny, kind, cutting, heartbroken, wry, and even occasionally brutal (poor Robbie!); it's a great role, and he plays it well. Fox looks handsome enough to make it clear why Oscar was drawn in to begin with and is basically Prince Joffrey from Game of Thrones with more polish, which he also does well. (Does that make Oscar first book/season Sansa? Huh.) Robbie's actor I don't think I had seen in anything before, but he reminded me yet again that someone should actually write a Ross centric novel or play or film, because this is the time for eternally devoted sidekicks who spend such a lot of time cleaning up messes and fighting against windmills getting center stage, surely. And I really would like to know how these post scandal conversations between Robbbie Ross and Constance Wilde went, because not only was running interference a thankless job for anyone under these circumstances but here there's also the fact that Robbie was (according to most sources anyway) the first man Oscar had had sex with, and post scandal Constance probably had figured that part out.
Next: Good Friday, and hours spent on both sides of the Thames and in the Tower of London.
This entry was originally posted at http://selenak.dreamwidth.org/884057.html. Comment there or here, as you wish.
Meeting
kathyh was fabulous. We checked out an exhibition at the Victoria & Albert about the contacts between Tudors, Stuarts and the Russian czars, which didn't miss to point out Ivan the Terrible was one of the candidates for Elizabeth's hand, which, well, the mind, it boggles. Sadly there was no mention of Orlando despite the fact there was a lot of the Muscovy trade organization and Virginia Woolf made that connection immortal. Also, the portrait of young prince Charles, the later Charles I., weirded me put because I'm not used to him clean shaven without even a hint of a Van Dyck beard or mustache.
After having some tea at a nearby café, we headed of to the Science Museum to see the Alan Turing exhibition. Which boasts of several of the early computers he's responsible for, and looking at them is a bit like watching a 60s (not a 40s!) sci fi movie. There were also several Enigma machines, one of which was lend by, as the note dutifully informed us, "Sir Michael Jagger, Musician" who currently owns it. It's a small world, I tell you.
(As part of the video background they have one of our ghastly WWII propaganda news shows running on a loop, but since I doubt many of the current day visitors actually speak German, I wonder about the point - or maybe it's that the sound of the language already sounds sinister to English ears? Anyway, the Wochenschau in question announces the upcoming invasion which never happened due to Mr. Turing and friends at Bletchley Park, so I see the point of the content, it's just that some subtitles would have been useful for the non German visitors, I guess?)
At first I thought the exhibition was being censored when it came to Turing's treatment in the 50s, but no: that was simply a later section. Also I learned that there are doubts about his death being suicide, which was news to me. I mean, my inner cynical conspiracy theorist is entirely willing to believe the government, not content with having inflicted chemical castration on him, actually offed him, but I hadn't expected such an ominous hint in a national museum. On the shallow side, the photos of Alan Turing which were used all make him look incredibly dashing.
In the evening, I had another great get together, with
rozk this time, who went to see David Hare's play The Judas Kiss with me, which is about Oscar Wilde, the first act about his fatal decision to stay in England instead of fleeing to France after his first trial, and the second about his final time and eventual break up with Bosie in Naples post prison. Rupert Everett was Oscar, Freddie Fox (related to Emilia and Edward, so Kathy told me) was Bosie, and Cal Macaninch the much put upon Robbie Ross. Also we were treated to two male nudes on the form of Ben Hardy (a waiter) and Tom Colley (an Italian fisherman). I'm not sure about the play as such, because the first act already makes it premise abundantly clear - Bosie is a ghastly narcisissist and Oscar sticks it out anyway because he needs to believe in this love of his life thing, or the whole disaster was for nothing, meaning the second act is sort of self evident - but it does work as a character portrait, and Hare, who proves immense guts by tackling a master of the dramatic art and the aphorism like Oscar Wilde and writing dialogue for him, manages to make said dialogue sound natural, not a series of pre approved soundbites. (He's very restrained about using actual Wilde lines, but still everything sounds as if Oscar could have said it, which is the point.) Everett gets to be in turn moving, funny, kind, cutting, heartbroken, wry, and even occasionally brutal (poor Robbie!); it's a great role, and he plays it well. Fox looks handsome enough to make it clear why Oscar was drawn in to begin with and is basically Prince Joffrey from Game of Thrones with more polish, which he also does well. (Does that make Oscar first book/season Sansa? Huh.) Robbie's actor I don't think I had seen in anything before, but he reminded me yet again that someone should actually write a Ross centric novel or play or film, because this is the time for eternally devoted sidekicks who spend such a lot of time cleaning up messes and fighting against windmills getting center stage, surely. And I really would like to know how these post scandal conversations between Robbbie Ross and Constance Wilde went, because not only was running interference a thankless job for anyone under these circumstances but here there's also the fact that Robbie was (according to most sources anyway) the first man Oscar had had sex with, and post scandal Constance probably had figured that part out.
Next: Good Friday, and hours spent on both sides of the Thames and in the Tower of London.
This entry was originally posted at http://selenak.dreamwidth.org/884057.html. Comment there or here, as you wish.