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Cramming it all in

Managed a double bill yesterday evening.

Just a few days ago I discovered that my long-planned theatre visit was just one hour long. Almost at the same time, I realised that a gig of my son’s group VoCollective on the same evening had a late start – 9.15pm. There would just be time (according to Tfl) to travel between. Serendipitous. 

So I went from a performance of Caryl Churchill’s ‘A Number’ at the fabulous Bridge Theatre to the London Vocal League’s A Cappella series: WeAreTrackless and VoCollective performances at The Crazy Coqs (Brasserie Zédel, Piccadilly Circus).

One minute I was a contemplative audience member trying to fathom out a father’s weird truth from his lies, and understand the impact on his various ‘offspring’ – a proper cerebral exercise befitting an educated middle-aged and probably middle-class performance consumer – and the next I was whooping loudly as my son gave a struttingly camp rendition of Prince’s ‘Kiss’ on the attractive lounge stage.

Mind you, I’d had a glass of wine by then.

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