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Our ruined and dishonoured and beloved world
This has really been a good weekend. I hung out with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gaudior and rushthatspeaks on Friday for the first time in a ridiculous while, watched three more episodes of Princess Tutu, which continues to make me happy, and witnessed a photo shoot with weirdquark and Thrud as Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney Todd, with the occasional quick pussycat. Saturday, ericmvan and I saw a matinée of the ART's Copenhagen, which I had wanted to see in a general fashion for years and specifically since this summer when I read the play for the first time: and which I found brilliant, fiercely intelligent and far more textured in voice than on the page—John Kuntz as Werner Heisenberg particularly caught at me, tightly mannered and fractured in glimpses between rapid-fire confidence and awkward concession, not innocent; even in the shadowy afterworld in which the play takes place, still passionate and still in pain. I had an unexpected bonus in the form of a comp ticket to the Lydian String Quartet at Brandeis, where I had my mind blown by Reza Vali's "Quartet #3." And tonight I watched the Super Bowl, which was a rather less jubilant occasion than the World Series.* Fortunately, I am even more indifferent to football than to baseball. I still care about archery, though.
Tomorrow, sorting books. Joy.
*The ad with the giant carrier pigeons was like something out of Narbonic, however, and therefore entirely worth seeing.
gaudior and rushthatspeaks on Friday for the first time in a ridiculous while, watched three more episodes of Princess Tutu, which continues to make me happy, and witnessed a photo shoot with weirdquark and Thrud as Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney Todd, with the occasional quick pussycat. Saturday, ericmvan and I saw a matinée of the ART's Copenhagen, which I had wanted to see in a general fashion for years and specifically since this summer when I read the play for the first time: and which I found brilliant, fiercely intelligent and far more textured in voice than on the page—John Kuntz as Werner Heisenberg particularly caught at me, tightly mannered and fractured in glimpses between rapid-fire confidence and awkward concession, not innocent; even in the shadowy afterworld in which the play takes place, still passionate and still in pain. I had an unexpected bonus in the form of a comp ticket to the Lydian String Quartet at Brandeis, where I had my mind blown by Reza Vali's "Quartet #3." And tonight I watched the Super Bowl, which was a rather less jubilant occasion than the World Series.* Fortunately, I am even more indifferent to football than to baseball. I still care about archery, though.Tomorrow, sorting books. Joy.
*The ad with the giant carrier pigeons was like something out of Narbonic, however, and therefore entirely worth seeing.