Saturday 24 May 2014

Post the Twenty-Second - Waterloo sunset's fine

I have noted over the last week that one of the things getting me through this time with a broken chair is the theatre, because Mama has so very kindly pushed me around and taken me to shows. I wrote briefly about Birdland at the Royal Court, and today my subject is a play that deals with many of the same themes, albeit in an entirely different manner.

On Thursday night we were rather closer to home than Chelsea (at Hampstead Theatre)  to see my friend Tam in Sunny Afternoon, a new musical based on the story and songs of The Kinks. My Papa told me that for him, they were the first long-haired rockers, and influenced his teenage years more than The Beatles or The Rolling Stones. I've been listening to Lola and You Really Got Me for as long as I can remember, so I was excited. I hoped for something that would get me bopping and refuel my ambition not only to  walk to get my second degree but to get up and out of my chair more permanently. (Particularly because Hampstead seems to have that 'strange effect' on me, since it was there that I first saw the stage version of Chariots of Fire - and met Tam, his dad and the rest of the cast - nearly two years ago now.)

I wasn't disappointed. The show was great - brilliantly acted, sung and performed by a superbly talented cast. We were taken from the band's early days, through highs and lows, hardship and hard graft, right to their eventual (and triumphant) conquering of America at Madison Sq. Gardens. I was swept away on the rhythm of All the Day and All of the Night, which gave me the moment of escape I needed, but I was also struck by how so many of the songs dealt with the complexity of human life in a frank way, unafraid to face up to difficulty and then refuse to be cowed. This helped me to regard my chair issues with a renewed hope and determination, and has given me a soundtrack to carry me through until it's fixed. Just like the band, when faced with bureaucracy, I 'won't take this all lying down' - though I'll try and break the rhyme scheme by smiling. Of course, there will be hard days, like yesterday when they brought the wrong motor and couldn't fit it. As I write this, though, looking out the window at the blue sky over Hampstead Heath in the way I have so many times before, I know that I'm happy and okay. After all, to paraphrase the song from which I took the title of this post, 'I don't feel afraid - as long as I gaze on [the London sunshine], I am in paradise'. (That song has some of the best harmonies in the history of pop music, in my humble opinion. Coincidentally, Waterloo underground is one of the few it's possible to use in a wheelchair, because it's on the Jubilee Line.)

So I wanted to say thank you. Thank you to The Kinks for their music, thanks to Hampstead for another great show, and thanks to the cast and crew for being brilliant and for the lovely chat afterwards. Thanks, Tam, for being my friend - and for the push back to the car! You've once again made a difference to my life. You'll just be finishing your last matinée as I post this, so I hope that went well and the final evening show does too.

Break legs (and amps and drumsticks, of course!) 

1 comment:

  1. It nice to hear that this wonderful music is still helping people feel they are not alone and that special element that makes us human can be fed by the genius that resides in us all . . . But is only manifested for all of us to experience by a few exceptional individuals. God Bless The Kinks and Ray Davies.

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