Or maybe they did. Grr. I'l check again later, like tomorrow.
Tonight we went to see Fragments, short things by Samuel Beckett directed by Peter Brook at the Young Vic. Most of the audience (well, at least half) was under 16, which means there were a lot of butts wriggling in seats during the, er, tone poem or whatever it was that was the second piece. It was gratifying to get into a massively sold out show like this one was but it did all feel a bit like noodling to me. The "play without words" was a hoot and the last piece, three old ladies on a bench gossipping about each other behind each other's (others' ?) back was well needed comedy and a nice end to the night. But still, I don't know if actors' exercises like these were worth twenty quid a pop - even though seeing some forty people waiting for my tickets enhanced the experience, I might have just preferred to sell them my ticket if I'd known and get back to The Eyre Affair, which is hysterical.
Feeling a bit blue tonight, don't know why.