Last night...

...J and I went to a production entitled Ivor Cutler Beautiful Cosmos. Sadly not the great man himself because he's no longer with us. 
Instead, someone had decided to put on a performance about his life. It was one of those events that, when your companion asks at the interval 'So, what do you think of it so far?' you struggle to find the right words to communicate your disappointment without taking any of the enjoyment from their own experience, should they be having a great time.
But J knows me so well that when I went 'Weeelllll... ', she knew exactly how I was feeling and fortunately felt the same. So then it's out in the open and you can get stuck in to pulling the whole thing to pieces. 
'And it got and Arts Council grant! How did that happen?'
'And it's in the Theatre Royal! How did that happen?'
'Perhaps the second half will be better' we said, valiantly. 
But no.
Luckily, I'd bought along a CD of his 'Dandruff'* earlier and we shared headphones and listened to him on the way back. We each have a copy now so we can play him often, until the memory of last night is eraded.
And thanks to Youtube, plenty of healing footage.
Just as it's uplifting when you experience good theatre, so it's depressing when you don't.

Going to see Kate Tempest tonight though, v much looking forward.

* including 'Dad's Lapse', 'A Barrel of Nails', 'My sock' and Hair Grips' by Phyllis.