Sorry for the delay, avid readers, but after travelling for over 34 hours to make it home for Christmas I have taken advantage of the rest time and caught up on some well-earned sleep. I am sure you would agree that it has been quite a year of activities.
In my last few days of 2011 in the Big Apple I saw John Hurt, and that voice, perform Samuel Beckett’s one-act play Krapp’s Last Tape and followed that up with a wander around Brooklyn’s answer to the Blackpool Illuminations.
John Hurt was magnificent as expected. I am going to cheat here and link The New York Times review because it articulates everything I felt but more eloquently than I could currently achieve, sat comfy on a sofa in the North East of England.
Spiky gray hair on the 71 year old Hurt and a voice that carves through any silence with vigour
As the curtains were lowered on the BAM stage, my theatre companion Giles and I ventured out into the bitterly cold wind of Brooklyn Heights and hopped onto a subway towards the city’s other bright lights in Dyker Heights. Famous for their Christmas festivities, residents in Dyker Heights put on a spectacular show for the tourists. Competing or not homes (we think yes) are converted into merry displays of Christmas-y splendour. Electricity bills? What electricity bills. These people don’t care two hoots about global warming, and why should they? If the photos below are anything to go by, this outrageous demonstration of jollification is absolutely worth all the energy (ahem????). We strolled, curling inwards to maintain a safe body heat, through the neighbourhood reacting to shining nativity scenes, super sized snow globes and monstrous exhibits of luminosity where one garden in particular was imitating the Terracotta Army, their version comprising toy soldiers and angels.
Some say the Americans do things bigger and better. In this instance I would certainly agree with “bigger”. “Better”? I am not so sure.