Friday, August 22, 2008

The Vortex

A Non Theatre post, as I’ve been doing predominantly non-theatre-y things this week, mainly involving running round the garden, as mentioned, and exploring my new neighbourhood. (And can I just ask whether there is a word for the kind of hypocrite who waves her hands around in vaguely classist alarm when a branch of Cath Kidson opens up the road from her old flat and then gets over-excited when she realises her new home is within walking distance of a Waitrose? Because, it seems, that this is exactly the kind of hypocrite I am.)

Anyway, continuing down the non-theatre line, the man known as Barry and I skipped over to Dalston last night for an evening of Turkish food and jazz on the Kingsland Road and it was lovely. We saw a young vocalist called Mishka Adams at the Vortex and it was everything you want from a night like that: red wine, low lights, smooth music. I don’t think I have the necessary vocabulary to talk about jazz, not in any analytical way at least; I just know I enjoyed myself and will be repeating the experience at some future date.


Juice said...

Hey tash, so berko's dad killed mendel and litka killed naomi? and the reason berko's dad did it was because he could see that mendel felt he was in a no win situation?

Interval Drinks said...

I take it we're talking about The Yiddish Policemen's Union. I had to stare at your comment for a whole minute before I twigged.

Erm, yes, it's a little while since I read it, but that sounds right.

Juice said...

as sad as this sounds i was hoping for something a bit more clever than a assisted suicide from that book and a bit more closure for landsman with his sister.