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No country for old women: Old Ladies - at Finborough Theatre

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The day after seeing The Old Ladies at the Finborough Theatre , I was describing the play to someone in great detail: about three old ladies who lived in a rickety house in southern England in 1935. Based on Hugh Walpole’s novel and adapted by Rodney Ackland, it is the sort of story with enough believability, humour and mild thriller to stick in your mind. Perhaps it is the lure of this dark, forboding tale of a life without money, to be alone and to be old, that makes you feel attracted to this poverty porn. But then again, given the state of the world, the cost of living, an ageing population, or just the fact that it’s a dog-eat-dog world, it might as well be an every little old lady-for-herself, too. It’s a well-acted and staged piece that moves at a brisk pace, so there isn’t much time to think about it too much. And in the intimate (or should that be claustrophobic?) space of the Finborough, there’s nowhere to avert your eyes. Even if you wanted to.  The scene is a grim Cathe...
Art: Frida Kahlo

Finally caught Frida Kahlo's exhibition at the Tate Modern. The large collection of her artworks spanning 11 rooms were quite a sight. There were all her famous works and many self-portraits to take in during the course of a Sunday afternoon. Such an amazing woman who while she painted survived a nasty bus accident, several miscarriages, an affair with Trotsky, a turbulent marriage and the odd bit of lesbianism. Loads of imagery referred to the female form of course. I will never quite look at an open cut cantaloupe in the same way again I think.

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