Since starting up the academic life again I've been reading more than I ever have before. I didn't take a lot of reading-heavy courses in college, so this volume of reading is a new experience for me. Spending all this time studying, though, has given me an opportunity to reflect on how cool the library here is.

The Courtauld Book Library is a beautiful place. Sunk into the basement of Somerset House, it retains the exposed brick arches of the building's past but adds white rolling stacks and rows of study desks on catwalks. The deep wells around the courtyard outside mean that there are still full windows and lots of bright indirect sunlight, so you don't feel like you're in a basement. It's a bright and soothing place. In comparison to other university libraries, the Book Library is small, but for a library whose holdings are limited to the history of art and related topics, it has almost all you would ever need. And since it's going to be home for the next nine months, it's a good thing it feels like a comfortable place to study!

I will say, there is a distinct lack of womb chairs, or really any kind of the soft seating spaces in incongruously bright colors that made Oberlin's library such a delightful place to spend time. On the other hand, I probably won't sleep in this library as much as I did in Oberlin's.

Now off to the first meeting of my Core Methodologies course, where I will attempt to discuss Foucault without sounding like a pretentious ass. Wish me luck!

A Real Horrorshow Production

A last minute decision, I traveled to East Stratford today to catch the closing night production of "A Clockwork Orange" at the Theatre Royal. I had read a review that said this production was better than the movie, which I've never seen, and decided to see what all the fuss was about. 

Stratford is where many of the new facilities for the Olympics are being built so it has a huge new train station showcasing the wonders of modern architecture with sharp angles of glass and steel, playing in harmony with the gigantic Westfield shopping mall, also a recent addition to the area. The Theatre Royal is an easy walk from the station and is a total contrast. It's a lovely small jewel box theater, all rococo and red draperies. 

This production was staged with the performance space a small strip between two sets of inward facing seats. The set was four angled platforms that would transform into all the extra scenery needed. The platforms and the whole floor had a shiny orange surface, while everything else was black. The angled swaths of orange echoed the aesthetic in the advertising posters - a 30's movie ad cum propaganda poster in stark black and orange. The rest of the set was black. Colored florescent lights on the platform gave the whole area a very "Bladerunner" feeling. I was sitting just outside the proscenium arch, a position that gave the uncanny impression of sitting inside a movie screen, about to watch the audience watch a show. 

There were two big surprises with this show. This first was that I had only remembered about half the book. I forgot the part after Alex was put in jail, which is sad because, really, that's the point of the book, isn't it? The other big surprise was that this show was a musical. 

I couldn't decide if the music worked or not. There was a small jazz combo that provided the background music was enjoyable to listen to, but often the songs seemed out of place. Singing, dancing gangs only work in West Side Story, and having a very modern gang (they attacked wearing Obama masks) jumping around to jazz and blues inspired music often pulled me out of the story. 

On the other hand, "A Clockwork Orange" is such an internal story and for it to work as a play the audience needs to know what's going on in Alex's head. Music is often a good way to achieve this. The actor playing Alex was great at the spoken-word poetry that his character pulled out in the script and I would have liked to see more of that in place of the singing. "A Clockwork Orange" has a language all its own and the spoken-word and occasional rap-style singing of the other boys worked with the slang vocabulary they all use.

Fans of the book or movie know that "horrorshow," in Alex's slang, means excellent, which is appropriate for this production. The actors and musicians were very talented and the ensemble cast and minimal set really focused the attention on Alex's internal struggles. This is just the kind of good, small theater I want to find more of in London.

T-minus one day left

Ok, I'm packed. Baggage fees be damned, I have three 49 pound suitcases plus a carry-on that's on the large end of the allowable carry-on limit. I have clothes laid out for tomorrow. Now all I have to do is get myself to Pittsburgh in plenty of time for my 6:15 flight. And hope the Air Canada flight attendants won't go on strike half-way through my flight...

Fall Forward

Coming home has been just what I need it to be, very relaxing. It's the end of the summer, so both my parents are back to teaching class and I end up being home alone quite a bit, giving me plenty of time to make my preparations for next year and tie up loose ends from the summer. 

Besides, I'm not really home alone. There is manic depressive dog, two grown cats who are sneaky troublemakers, and a kitten who had a broken leg until a few weeks ago. This makes for plenty of entertaining antics and all the nap time buddies I could ever need. 

Fall is definitely here, or at least so say the stores that have started to stock Halloween candy. Folks living on the island usually shop at only a limited number of stores, so we knew that fall was starting when the first Pumpkin beer became available. Trees in Ohio are still green, while New England trees have already started to change colors, but fall is still making itself known.

It's harvest time and there are new ripe veggies in the garden every day, plus about once a week we get a big basket from a friend's farm, CSA-style. In the past week I've made two big batches of tomato sauce, two of salsa, plus we've blanched and frozen lots of fresh vegetables to use late. Today we made stock and some of the less-lovely tomatos, last week's haul that hadn't been used yet, and a few new things as well. Now the whole house smells like onions and fennel! Delicious!

Yesterday was one of my other favorite Ohio early fall activities, Mount Union home football. Dad and I used to go to the games together almost every week when I was younger, but that was interrupted a bit by high school marching band. After being required to spend Friday evening watching football in all weathers, I usually didn't want to do the same Saturday afternoon. But now I get to watch the Raiders less often, so it's always a treat when I do. 

I understand football well enough to enjoy watching it. I still don't get a lot of the nuance; I rarely notice fouls and still spend an awful lot of the game watching the cheerleaders like I did when I was eight. But there's something about just the whole experience of going to a college football game - the crowds, the noise, the colors, the band - it's a rite of sorts. A moment where a whole group of people come together and focus their attention on one simple game. 

I know that this is true to a certain extent about many sporting events, but none come with the trappings of a good football game, especially in a region like the midwest where people really care about the sport. Plus it's something my dad and I have always done together. My mom and sister have never been interested. 

We won 41-17 against University of Wisconsin Oshkosh, but it was a hard-fought game all around. Soon I'm going to have to start focusing on a completely different type of football!

Recap: "July Never Seemed So Strange" through "Goodnight Irene"

Well, predictably I did a terrible job of keeping this blog over the summer. To be honest, I did a pretty terrible job of keeping in touch with everyone, including my family. But since my summer is over, a little recap.

 When we last left our heros it was early July and we were doing what we always do: playing guitars and singing, rowing boats at sunset, and working too much. Open-Up work gradually turned into regular season and I transitioned from managing large groups of volunteers on the weekends to supervising a crew of seven and two to twenty volunteers every day. It was an exciting year! Lots of old friends came to visit, lots of exciting new friends were made. We had parties with themes that ranged from "Fred Loves Boats," to the "Stone Age Rage," with "Robots and Zombies," "Ke$ha and Condiments," a couple great bands, and a particularly epic Pirate Party. The softball team went 11-1. Two friends and I were invited to brunch at Appledore island across the harbor. And I dressed up as Michael Jackson (sort of) and sang "Billy Jean" in front of a whole conference. Twice.

 Maybe because I wasn't directly involved with the day to day workings of the conference this year, but the summer seemed to fly by. All my free time was spent making arrangements for next year or running away from the island to go swimming on the other side of the harbor. My job had me working a little bit of everywhere, from the Bakery to the Front Desk, from serving meals as a waiter to covering for the head waiter (my friend Luke, for those who have been following this story for a while) on his days off. Being so involved allowed me to make some great new friends

Here's Owen, Morgan, and Allie falling asleep on the kitchen counter. I think this was after the Ke$ha party. This is probably after we were all attacked with tons of glitter.

And Matt and me being really good pirates. Allie took this picture. She was a pink pirate and I was an orange pirate. It's kind of like Power Rangers. Right? This was before we were all attacked with squirt guns and powdered sugar.

 Morgan left early, and Owen was next to go. Allie's still out there now, and Matt and I stayed just long enough to be evacuated for Hurricane Irene. The Irene evac wasn't quite the adventure that Earl was last year, but the hurricane was a lot worse. Fortunately the island didn't sustain much damage at all. This time the storm mostly went west of us. Allie and Matt and I weathered the storm in Boston.

Mid August Annaliese and I took a very quick trip to NYC. We were in the city for something like 30 hours but I got to see a lot of friends and enjoy the complete turnaround from life on a 40 acre island with a population of 400 on a good day, back to one of the largest and busiest cities in the world. Plus I got to see a bunch of you guys one last time before I make the trip across the pond, even if it was only for a couple minutes (Theresa!).

I was very happy with this summer. It's such a special place - out of time, in a way. But it can be very isolating. My best years there have been years when I had definite life plans for after the summer was over, and that was certainly true for this year. Grad school is coming together, and I'll talk about that more later. But this was a really lovely summer, and I'm glad for such a good centering experience before I head off into the great unknown.

Gondola

Just an average day in wonderland.

Arthur McBride

Tonight I did two of my favorite things. I sat around with great friends singing and playing guitars and then sat around having a conversation whose topics ranged from math to theater to the Sandman to classy movies. If only I were 5 or so years younger I would have a huge crush on at least one of the young men out here.

Our guitar and singing setlist is pretty classic; it's one of the things that I imagine hasn't changed much out here in the past 30 years. We sang "The Last of Barrett's Privateers," "The Northwest Passage," and "Wagon Wheel" before I talked the music director into playing and singing his version of "Arthur McBride" for us.

It's a great song with a beautiful guitar part. Listen to Paul Brady's version here: The song tells a story about two young men who are approached by an army recruiter and beat him up rather than join up. Our music director adapted a version of it last year that changed the lyrics so it describes two young men who are recruited by a mainland executive and throw him in the ocean rather than give up their lives as Pelicans. Last year I asked him for a copy of the lyrics. I used to pull them out during the off-season when I was feeling sad about work to remind me that the summer is never far away.

And we have no desire to drive a commute
Or to sit in a cubicle wearing a suit
On the back of these trucks we eat fresh mainland fruit
And we burst into song without warning.