billy elliot: all light on the night
The whole technical aspect of it makes me feel pointless, and I always avoid physics and math problems in cunning tanks --
The top in charge of lighting and speaking is a language that I can\'t understand because they manipulate the lights and squat on a shabby dimmer board.
Since then, the stage lights have always been a mystery, but last week I attended a really enlightening workshop by four leading lighting designers in the UK, these include lighting up the musical Billy Elliott Neil Austin, who often works at the Dorma warehouse.
Lighting people have an appeal to their enthusiasm for work.
Usually when reviewing, I will consider the script itself, direction, acting and set.
There is very little space to mention lighting.
But the experts are convinced that lighting is the glue that brings the product together, helping to flow from the scene to the scene, immediately establishing the dramatic focus, and often build emotions when we are not aware of the fact.
Their work often has to be done on the spot, especially in opera and ballet, where the turnover of the work is so fast that technological innovation has not stopped since my time
My favorite effect is when the spotlight goes through the smoke of oil drops and creates sculptural light on stage, although apparently opera singers often complain that it\'s not good for their voice, although research suggests the opposite is true.
A small amount of oil actually lubricate their throat.
After the speech, I went to Donmar to watch the life of Austin on, a dream of Austin design.
This set is the smallest-a little more than the black walls decorated with golden leaves and throne.
The lighting created a disturbing atmosphere in the play.
These backroom idiots painted with lights are the unsung heroes of the British theater-unless they have a small percentage of the big hits like Billy Elliott, the money is also terrible.
My thought-provoking trip to Munk\'s strange imagination, if you cross the Temple Bar in Dublin on Saturday night, you will never guess that the Celtic Tiger has stopped growling.
There is no sign of frustration in the vibrant craic, as Guinness wine, malt and pints have disappeared in countless canyons.
The Irish are more amiable than the British, but as a new drunk, I find that there is nothing that makes me happy than holding a glass of mineral water in my hand.
This may explain why during my visit to the alst Bank Theatre Festival in Dublin, I found two thought-provoking but rewarding experiences.
The first was a guided tour of Kilmainham Gaol, which opened as a model prison in 1796 but was overcrowded during the famine, when people are deliberately arrested for guaranteeing a good meal here every day.
In addition, in the struggle for independence, the rebels live here, 14 of whom were shot and killed by British soldiers within 10 days of the 1916 Easter Uprising.
In the bare yard where they face 12 people
The men\'s firing squad, the \"terrible beauty\" described in his poem, seems absurd sentimentality.
The whole tour brings a clearly uncomfortable experience for British tourists, as the guide describes the evil of British rule in terrible detail.
Perhaps the most poignant is the story of Joseph plenckett, who has been ill with TB, married at the prison church at midnight, in the presence of two guards, allow him to stay with his wife for a few minutes and then be taken away at dawn and shot.
But there are thought prisons, and there are stone prisons, and few people have endured the more painful mental torture of Norwegian artist Edward Munch.
Everyone knows his famous painting \"Scream\", but I know very little about him before visiting a wonderful printmaking exhibition at the National Gallery of Ireland.
Munk watched his wife and sister die of tuberculosis, lived in fear of madness, and suffered a severe mental breakdown in 1908.
You can see from these shocking, disturbing pictures that a naked woman dancing with a skeleton, his sick sister\'s death room, he painfully imagined a jealous husband imagining his wife having sex with her lover.
At the same time, the black scream seems more disturbingand-
White Print version than paint print version.
Have a particularly memorable self
Before Munk collapsed, he held a bottle of wine, \"When I poured the wine and cognac in my throat without meaning and smoked the strongest cigar \".
For him, it was not a kind frenzy-he sat alone, and his face was learned in pain and despair.
However, there is something exciting about his honesty in revealing the darkness of the soul, even the hero.
Please provide information!
Why should the record company tell us more about the greed and stupidity of the record company, which surprised me all the time.
With free downloads and streaming services like Spotify, and old farts like me who still buy CDs to become endangered species, you will think that they will do everything they can to maximize the value of the product.
One thing we like is information.
I teach most of classical music by reading my sleeve notes.
So you will think that these companies will provide informative biographies and period photos when they are re-released.
The recording of the past.
They do it sometimes.
Ace record\'s brilliant southern soul music collection, take me to the river, is an encyclopedia in the information it provides, and the island record company has released a series of records that are reasonably priced, in regions such as reggae, ballad and prog rock, with exquisite box suits containing gems in the catalogue, with some notes and nostalgic photos, reminiscent of the hippie era, wide ouli oil and huge spliffs.
But most people don\'t bother.
I recently bought the charts Lynn series, which topped the charts.
For this great lady, or how she became the lover of the army, I have not mentioned it.
Another episode, 101 songs that won the second world war, contains a wealth of memorable music in their forties, but there is no Ambrose and his orchestra or Leslie \"he is as famous as his singing for his sexual ability to Social women.
It doesn\'t cost a lot of resources to provide the artist\'s photos and information, but it takes time and effort-most record companies want to make money quickly with their background catalog, rather than lighting it up and celebrating it.
In his view, the MP with the PC \"meaningless\" had an unusual experience this week.
I sat down for lunch with a member of parliament and he made me a very good egg.
Ed Vaizey is the Conservative shadow culture minister in charge of art and broadcasting.
Vaizey did not escape the cost disclosure of the Daily Telegraph unscathed.
Some claim that the house in his constituency has some upmarket furniture, but he paid back the money very quickly-unlike many blighters who are still complaining about the unfairness of all this, and wonder why we despise them so much.
Vaizey attended an off-site event at Garrick Clubthe-
Minutes of meetings with the circle of critics.
He is very good at himself.
Demeaning humor, clearly committed to his work, and enjoying the prospect of proving that culture can thrive under Conservative leadership, conservatives are often greatly suspected in the art world.
He criticized the \"huge sum\" the art committee spent on administration and \"wanted it to take away all the nonsense of political correctness\", which is documented.
As you would expect, he is on the side of Boris Johnson, a candidate for the London division of the Arts Council, Veronica waldry, and in the case of Labor accusing cronyism, ben Bradshaw, minister of culture, was recently rejected.
I happen to know Dudley.
For years, she has been an executive of the Telegraph, and during her time as editor of the London Evening News, she hosted the jury of the newspaper drama award I served.
Wadley knows how to manage a large organization that truly enjoys the art, supports funding, and is one of the most efficient people ever.
She will bring judgment and rigor to London\'s art.
Boris said he would not fill the position until the election, which means that if the Conservative party wins, Wadley will eventually get the job.
Even though she used to laugh at the naff gray shoes I wore in the office, I liked and admired her.
When she faced a more pretentious weirdo, I wanted to be a fly on the wall.
Bear in London\'s art world.