A Pleasing Disappointment
I’ve always wanted to invent a cliche but that seems highly unlikely, so here’s a nice oxymoron instead!
It’s true though. At Live Theatre in Newcastle on Thursday evening Fiona Evans (whose Scarborough is currently running at the Royal Court) had a reading of her new play Deepcut and I really wanted to be there. But more than a week beforehand there were no tickets left so I went on the waiting list. No chance! I missed it. I left it too late, of course - the story of my life…
But - and this is the pleasing bit - it does mean that there is such an interest in new theatre writing in Newcastle that they had to start a waiting list for tickets - and I was by no means the first on that list. And that is a very good thing.
It’s partially the fact that it was at Live, of course - the theatre has a loyal and enthusiastic audience - and partially because Fiona is developing quite a reputation as an up-and-coming playwright, but it’s good to know there is an appetite for new work in the region. I do tend, at times, to get a little depressed when audiences turn up in their thousands for the umptyninth revival of Cats (much as I love the show), for some very ordinary middle-of-the-road play which happens to have a well-known face or two from the telly or for some tenth-rate comedy.
So my faith is restored. Sorry I couldn’t make it, Fiona. In future the first of my heart shall be the first of my hand. No more procrastinating. Hereto I’ve worked on the principle of never putting off till tomorrow what I can put off till next month: that must change!
Good Lord, I’ve just made a (very much delayed) New Year’s resolution!