Southwark, Late 2007
p.s. The Blue Fin Building can be seen in this photo. Looking like a little addition to the Tate Modern’s glass top floor, it protrudes either side of the Chimney.
p.p.s. I might have to stop this segment. It makes me sad. Wistful, wishful. If only I still lived in Southwark.
Craig bought me a new pink hei tiki to cheer me up.
This is the latest straw piled on top of me.
The package includes possible moves to prevent the families of skilled migrants working in Britain and restricting skilled migrants to taking jobs only in occupations with shortages.
Smith signalled that raising the qualification levels for tier 1 – the most highly skilled migrant route – could cut the numbers from 26,000 to only 14,000 a year. The new criteria will require a master’s rather than a bachelor’s degree and a job offer with a minimum salary of £20,000 rather than £17,000.
Craig and I will be effected by these changes. Wholly and completely. They will make it near on impossible for us to get the visas we’ve been dreaming about.
I have a bachlor’s degree, not a master’s, and Craig would be applying as the family of a migrant. We would be ineligible.
We are ineligible. I cannot think of this as something which might not happen. I can’t deal with the hope.
Perhaps we can apply now, before the changes get rolled through, and just wait …
Either way we have to reassess what we are going to do with the next five years of our lives, where we will live, what we will fill our days with, how I will cope being in New Zealand when everyday already feels like torture, like a waste.
And personally, while I can stand objectively and say that I understand the changes that are being brought forward in light of the economic climate, I think the reason they are tightening the points-based system has a lot to do with the European Union
The points-based immigration system does not cover the movement of workers from within the European Union to Britain but official immigration figures to be published on Tuesday are expected to confirm that the number of Poles and other eastern Europeans coming to work continues to fall, especially since the decline of the pound against the Euro.
They can’t touch the European migrants and so have piled it all upon the rest of us.
Britain seems to forget that Australia and New Zealand are part of their commonwealth.
Stuck on the train three times as long as usual.
I walked onto the wharf instead of sitting outside the school as I was quite a bit early. It was beautiful. Then Ray and Theo accosted me into going into the pub so I didn’t get to go over my lines at all!
Our first review is out! and it’s great! and! I am named! and! I am maybe ever so slightly, just a little, a teeny bit excited about that …
Reviewed by John Smythe, 18 Feb 2009
Outrageous Fortune meets Footrot Flats: that’s the look, anyway, of the costume choices for Katherina and Petruchio in this all-woman Bard in the Yard production of The Taming of the Shrew, directed by John Marwick as the Butterfly Creek Theatre Troupe’s contribution to Fringe 09 and the Compleate Workes project.
Not that Katherina and her sister Bianca are bogans born and bred, they’re too well-spoken for that. But each has rebelled in her own way against their more respectable father, Baptista Minola; if the feral Katherina is redolent of Cheryl West (sans cigs), Bianca is more Pascalle.
Petruchio might be all black singlet and gumboots, but he’s doing pretty well given the number of blokes working on his backblocks property. While other men vie to woo the sexy and manipulative Bianca, he relishes the challenge offered by “Katherina the curs’d”. And Baptista has decreed she must be wed first before Bianca goes.
The way Liz Sugrue and Rowan Macrae work it through, Pet and Kat instantly see their match in the other and so play the game full on and for keeps. A line in Katherina’s controversial final scene speech, “That seeming to be most which we indeed least are” seems to be the key: Petruchio knows she’s wired to be loyal and loving, and that she’s protecting that vulnerability with her stroppiness; Katherina knows he is a lovely big softie beneath his ‘dog boss’ exterior. They just need to know it’s finally safe to let their guards down …
Ideologically correct sexual politics aside, there are plenty of real-life examples to validate this behaviour and it’s this core of truth that gives this production its spine. But despite a number of other good performances, a few players have yet to pursue a stronger intention than remembering their lines and this tends to weaken the sub-plots.
Elspeth Harris is deliciously manipulative as Bianca and Florence McFarlane nails old Gremio so clearly – got up as a fairground impresario and/or successful gambler – that it’s hard not to see them best suited to each other. Harris and McFarlane also offer excellent cameos as a tailor and haberdasher respectively.
Other strong performances include Kat Angus as Hortensio, Tamsin Bertaud-Gandar as Biondello, Sarah-Rose Burke as Grumio and Sue Jones, contrasting a Cooch-like Curtis with a gentlemanly Vincentio.
As an ensemble the 12-strong cast gives good support to the on-stage action with collective reactions and live sound effects. In place of the induction, the actors arrive in branded t-shirts, bop to ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ then change into costume in front of us, which takes a while. The ghetto-blaster music backing is weak, and when it failed briefly, on opening night, and the cast spontaneously sang live, I couldn’t help feeling that was better.
The Butterfly Creek Theatre Troupe has set a good standard with their annual Bard in the Yard productions. The Taming of the Shrew is a well-conceived addition, intelligently approached with strong central performances and a clear intention to share the fun.
Sometimes Twitter is very very good, like when @stephenfry is stuck in a lift, but when it is bad? it is horrid.
I tweeted away this evening as I was stuck on the train, and they have still not arrived on twitter itself.
At least the view while stuck at Ngauranga was quite nice.
So, naturally, I amused myself by taking photos.
Four trains and 1.5 hours after getting on the train at Wellington, we made it home.