Last Friday, after a busy and stressful week, I was due to see Yerma at the Arcola theatre, the second production in the theatre's Viva Lorca season. To be honest, I was very tempted to make my excuses and get out of it. I was so tired and just wanted to head home, but I'm so glad I didn't pull out - it was a fabulous show, vibrant and lyrical. Kathryn Hunter was compelling as the tormented and childless Yerma, scuttling about, husky and hunched - you could feel the desperation radiating from her. The flexible Arcola space had been split down the middle with the audience on either side, adding to the production's unsettling but effective atmosphere. I was particularly taken with the scene where a group of washerwomen beat their sodden clothes against the ground sending water everywhere, their ritual accompanied by onstage drumming.
For such an essentially bleak drama this was vibrant and exciting stuff. And its energy was infectious. I was on such a high by the time it reached its tragic conclusion, a feeling inhanced by the Spanish guitar music and flickering candles in the Arcola lobby. For two hours I was able to forget all the little niggling worries that had followed me about all week and get lost in the spectacle. That's why I love the theatre - that feeling - it doesn't happen often, but this production hit all the right buttons.
As for the flat, after much faffing and fussing, we have finally moved in. Tall Matt, Ann and Sarah B were all good enough to lend a hand and the place is slowly starting to feel like home, though the walls are still rather bare - we need art! Lisa however won't be joing me until her course at the Institute of Education begins - it feels a bit odd having the place to myself.