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.
3 comments:
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?
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.
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.
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