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A Man For All Seasons: Seagull True Story - Marylebone Theatre

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It's not often that you see a play that tells you not so much a story but gives you a sense of how it feels to be in a situation, how it feels to be silenced, how it feels to be marginalised, how the dead hand of consensus stifles your creativity. However, in Seagull True Story, created and directed by Alexander Molochnikov and based on his own experiences fleeing Russia and trying to establish himself in New York, we have a chance to look beyond the headlines and understand how the war in Ukraine impacted a a group of ordinary creatives in Russia. And how the gradual smothering of freedom and freedom of expression becomes impossible to resist, except for the brave or the suicidal. Against the backdrop of Chekhov's The Seagull, which explores love and other forms of disappointment, it presents a gripping and enthralling depiction of freedom of expression in the face of adversity. After playing earlier this year in New York, it plays a limited run at the Marylebone Theatre . Fro...
Idle Chatter at home this evening

Paul: I am just heading out for a spot of gym
Flatmate: You're heading out for a spot of what?
Paul: Gym.
Flatmate: Oh gym! I thought you said you were heading out for a spot of gin!
Paul: Wouldn't that be a splash of gin?

Keeping fit and smoking

As for gym, six months after joining I think it is paying off as I feel healthier and I can run for long periods without passing out. This must be a good thing. Although I am still not ready to take my shirt off in a dance tent in Brighton.

To help with the whole gym experience I have had Kylie, Madge and Whitney on the iPOD. But I have also supplemented them with old hits from Olivia Newton John, Basement Jaxx and Mariah Carey. Yes Mariah as New York Times said that her song "We belong together" is the song of the summer. So who can argue about that?

Later tonight I returned home to a flat full of cigarette smoke. My flatmate was entertaining a gentleman caller who obviously had a thing for heavy duty tobacco. I didn't see the caller but envisaged that he would be some red-faced leathery looking thing so I figured I didn't need to meet the passing trade. As for the smoke, I shouldn't complain too much about it since I am living with somebody fairly easygoing. No kitchen Nazi, unlike my former housemates in Haringey. When looking for a place I found it worthwhile to discount anybody who introduced the kitchen with a funny accent and adding "And this is how we always keep it... Spotless!"

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