I could see the future rushing up to meet me

[sovay]

The only pictures I took in New York were at Flushing Meadows; I hadn't brought my camera, so I used derspatchel's phone. Here are a few.



This is not a picture I took at Flushing Meadows. This is a picture of me on the B&B Carousell at Coney Island. I'd asked Rob to take a picture of my horse, which he did next, but it turned out I didn't mind his first try.



The Unisphere. From here on all photographic faults are my own. I really like this one.



Rob's phone is not so great about its zoom function; it doesn't pixellate so much as it becomes sort of blocky and abstract. [edit: rinue explains why in comments.] I still like how the structure frames itself here.







Deleted, some sculpture that came out weirdly blued and a Mercury Atlas rocket at an unsuccessfully canted angle. I took a bunch of the Observation Towers which I think came out well, but I'm not sure they all came out so equally well that I should inflict them on LJ. But here, the sky in a webwork of guy wires. The last one is my favorite. It reminded me of the sun-petaled stage design Peter Shaffer describes in the script of The Royal Hunt of the Sun.

I am sorry there are not more pictures of us, wandering around the future of the past. I suppose we'll have to go back.

P.S. Some kind person has put up all eight and a half hours of the RSC's Nicholas Nickleby on YouTube, just as if I wanted to compare it with the published script. There goes my free time.

Comments

[sovay]

(Did I tell you about the time I met Gielgud...?)

*begins to search quietly for sharp objects*

(You have not become obnoxious. Did you actually meet Gielgud?)

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Absolutely I did. I was a theatre boy to my adolescent fingertips, and spent all the hours I could hanging out at the Oxford Playhouse, "helping" however they would let me. Nicolas Kent was the director in those days; and one afternoon he stopped me in the foyer. "Chaz, come over here a moment, there's someone I'd like you to meet. Sir John, this is..." etc.

Late '70s, that would have been. so I guess he was 75 or thereabouts. I wasn't twenty yet; he seemed appropriately ancient, and I remember being astonished how strong his hands still were. His huge hands: they seemed disproportionate. And he was gracious, and took the time to be charming - and oh. That voice. Aimed at me. It was kinda like the whole meeting-Tolkien thing, repeated when I was six years older and shoulda done better, know what I mean? But I am still and always a fanboy at heart, and even now I still have heroes. I was just lucky that I got to meet some of them.