Lluís Pasqual, director of Barcelona’s most international theatre, Teatre Lliure, has announced that a government budget cut of €614.000 has forced the theatre to end its main season in May, and cancel three productions in their entirety.
More DRAMA this weekend as actor and director Julian Wickham makes his debut as a playwright. Playing With Fire puts the acquired skills of students from his Barcelona-based English Drama School to the test.
Sharp, snazzy adaptation of David Mamet’s brutal comedy, with the ingenious twist of an all-female cast. Best €8 I’ve spent in while. See it next weekend at the Riereta (take gloves). There are surtitles in Catalan.
last week on DRAMATIC EXIT … In the sneak out we explored what to do when enough is enough and even a “goodbye” seems superfluous. In the scatter we covered how a public exit, executed with panache, can rattle up sad and sedentary members of society, and shine an interrogatory light on the more ridiculous… Read more »
In the second of three imperative posts, I introduce a means of getting the hell out of there with the maximum fuss possible. This – very public – withdrawal comes into play when one wishes to fritter up one’s dispassionate, glum and/or anti-social companions on a bus or a subway journey: the type of folk with… Read more »
There is nothing like a dramatic exit to strike a line through the evening. It’s undignified, childish, and you may be excruciatingly embarrassed afterwards, but for once you’ll have something to write home about. Good cause is important, but so too is to know your own limits. Though the culprit may merely have ‘tipped the… Read more »
Last night, at around 9pm, I received a terrible phone call from a Mr Rodrigo Rojas. “I’m calling from Telefonica. We’ve knocked at your door many, many times, but for some reason, you are never in.” “I work,” I confessed, “Is there a problem?” “Are you Ms … of C/ … ?” “I am. ” “And… Read more »
A Boxing Day stroll along Diagonal was intercepted by a violent incident with a madman. “Puta!” yelled the hefty, pee-soaked man, who had already attracted my attention by spitting at me. “Why do you say that?” I replied. I realised my mistake immediately. “Puta!” he raged “Zorra!” He tossed aside his black bag and lunged at me. On your own, love. I… Read more »
A moist, sickly-sweet lump of sugar (1kilo), smashed almonds (1kilo) and 12 semi-solidified egg yolks, the lightly browned Túrron de Yema must be the quintessentially backhanded Christmas gift; the booby prize of the seasonal raffle. One might go so far as to suspect that the same single bar has been circulating the peninsula since Wilfred… Read more »