'Top Banana' Doesn't Slip.doc

It's been the busiest week of term thus far. But thankfully, it is the last of the five weeks of intensive seminars and lectures that they promised. After this week we have a reading week, filled with a portfolio project I'm afraid, and then four weeks of group work leading to a final presentation.

On Monday night Lotte and I went to 'Top Banana' which is the university's biggest on campus party night. Monday night might seem like an odd choice but I think it encourages a lengthening of the weekend and most students are unconcerned with homework on Monday since a whole week of procrastination lies on the horizon. I accompanied her and some of her Warwick friends from undergrad and we joined the lengthy cue. It's an odd rule, but one is not allowed to drink in a queue at Warwick even though the country allows drinking outside. Lotte showed me an incredible trick where she placed a can of Fosters in her sleeve - it deserved a slow clap. The move reminded me of 'roadie' maneuvering back home. She also made allusions to the way in which freshers don't always keep track of their alcohol (read: OPDing!) Sorry, I know there is a generational translation gap here. It seems these ritualistic drinking methods transfer across borders.

'Top Banana', affectionately known as 'Top B', is mostly an undergrad night - debauchery and Dionysian excess rule the roost. It was fun, however, to reconsider a time when readings were pseudo-optional and a good night out meant a good morning of sleeping in. I was talking about "the graduate perspective" being something akin to distance, estrangement, and alienation to the university culture and Monday night was a reminder of this type of engagement. Lotte introduced me to a popular drink called 'purple' which if I remember correctly is a combination of cider, beer, vodka, and a splash of Ribena (syrupy black current juice) You'd think the concoction would have a nasty taste but it actually tastes a lot like fruit juice - a few too many would have been dangerous I am certain. 

Again, it was an eclectic night music wise. It definitely had its share of "cheese" which the DJs introduced with much glee, but they did branch out and play some more alternative hits. We headed back to a residence gathering "Post B" at one of the undergrad halls. The atmosphere could not be more different from Heronbank where the corridors are empty and the students are studying. I was thankful for a return to what I remember residence being: loud and exciting.

Tuesday was a dark day. You may have heard about it. It snowed here...in October. Not only did it snow for four straight hours, which made the Brits crazy with excitement, but it stayed on the ground for a good 36 hours! I leave Canada to get away from snow and experience the first October snowfall is 70 years here. How lucky I am to have been present. Now, to think more positively, I was told that Warwick only got one snowfall last year so I'm hoping we continue with the norm and the one and only snowfall is behind us (something tells me I'd be delusional in thinking that)

We have project proposals tomorrow for our final presentations which means that we'll be split into groups. I'm hoping my proposals are well received since I've put a lot of work into them, but more importantly I'm looking to work in either the creative practice or curation modality instead of scholarship. Should be an interesting session; I have no idea how they'll split the groups but we'll be working closely together for four weeks.

Tomorrow night, as a celebration of the END of the five weeks of seminars and lectures, we're going to a Halloween party on campus and then to another on Saturday night. As usual, no set Halloween costume yet although I have a few ideas. Last year Hincks and I were running around the city dressed as Posh and Becks - a little ironic considering where I am now.

Doc's Prescription of the Day: Trick or Treat? Well, I think the answer is obvious - treats in moderation and tricks only if they are accompanied with pranks. Always seek out the houses with full chocolate bars.

Weekend Update Part 2: Oxford University (im)Press(ive).doc

As promised, I'm completing this weekend update with a chronicle of my travels to Oxford.

We arrived back from Bath around 8:30pm and made our way to Paul's residence building. I had always pictured Oxford as an educational haven (about as Ivory Tower as you can get) nestled in a tranquil British town where scholars sat in robes and conversed over tea. While I'm sure there are times when this visual is constructed, Oxford is situated right in the middle of a bustling city. So you have an interesting interplay between historic colleges and high street fashion shops all intermingled on one street. Paul is a member of Lincoln College, one of 39 college affiliations at the university.  His room is gigantic and has a fireplace and double doors leading outside! Definitely more spacious than any res room I've visited. I include this description of the room to alert future travelers that Paul has offered his place if we'd like to visit Oxford - it should be a definite stop for anyone who visits while in the UK (I'm sure you won't mind me mentioning this Paul, plus it's a sick shout out!)

After borrowing an extra mattress from one of his friends and lugging it back to the room, off we went to the Lincoln College pub (yes each of the colleges has their own pub - more on the structures to come). I met four of Paul's graduate friends who were all very outgoing and intelligent folk. I've come to realize that grad students tend to approach uni from a distance, or maybe a gap of maturity, after having completed four years of undergrad. This distance, for fun we'll say something like a Brechtian estrangement, allows for a more critical engagement with student life that acknowledges the construction of university culture and structures (nerd territory here...) We shared some drinks and discussed our various programs - I pressed them more about life at arguably the most well-known university in the world.

Paul, his friend Marlena, and I headed to a club just an eight minute walk from his residence called Park Avenue. Paul insisted that this was the best place for the ultimate in cheesy music. I have to say, it didn't disappoint (or it did disappoint depending how you look at it). There were three areas of music - house, R&B, and the cheese pop area - and we visited all three. By the height of the night, the cheese pop music room was definitely the place to be. I've learned that the British deep down love to listen to extremely superficial and poppy bubblegum songs if they are placed under the theme of cheese music. I guess this is excuse enough to dance the night away to guilty pleasures. You name it, it was played. Some of the highlights: Dolly Parton's 9-5 (reminded me of a certain karaoke fiend), Hanson's Mmmbop (yikes), the Baywatch Theme song (huh?), S Club 7 (then we got Jo, she's got the flow!), an ABBA medley, and the patriotic moment of the night came with Brian Adam's Summer of 69 which the crowd went crazy for. I've never been so aware of spotting Canadian artists at pubs/clubs but it happens really often over here.

In addition to these choice beats, we were also witness to a bar fight between two girls. This was no ordinary pushing session - drinks were thrown at one another. Paul insisted that these would be citizens of the 'townie' variety as opposed to students. Not exactly the image you picture when thinking of Oxford but entertaining nonetheless. It was just after the fight that we set our watches back an hour (holler!) and enjoyed an extra 60 minutes at the bar. The night was rounded out with a visit to the local chip truck conveniently located on the way back to residence. 

One tends to forget about the incredible amount of history surrounding you and I had momentary reminders a few times on Sunday while wandering around the campus. Paul snagged his buddy's student card so I could flash it for access to some of the buildings so for the morning I was Simon Millar who studies Politics, Philosophy, and Economics (a real stand up chap). We toured some of the more picturesque campus colleges - the libraries, the quads, and the outer structures all immaculately maintained. The grass in the quads just might have been the most intense colour of green I've ever seen! We went down to the river and watched the rowing crews during Sunday practice - I spent a summer rowing on the Henley in St. Catharines so I had an interest in seeing the Oxford digs. After that we rounded out the day with a stop in at a pub that J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S Lewis frequented.

I fell momentarily in love with Oxford. It bears a striking resemblance to what Queen's felt like to me and it was nice to have a reminder of the four glorious years of undergrad. The structure of the colleges make it almost even more condusive to establishing long-term roots and friendships. In a similar way to American fraternities, but without the terrible hazing, every student at Oxford is a member of one of the 39 colleges each with its own library, accommodations, pub, rowing team, and social network. While you inevitably make friends with students in your program, the college system, I imagine, provides something of a surrogate family to return home to. I had extreme friendvy (translation: friend(ly) envy) for Paul's placement at Oxford. I'm having a great time at Warwick, but it was built in the 1960s so you just can't compare it to the atmosphere at Oxford. Everyone rows there! I plan to return sometime this term and hit up the Tuesday night party which Paul assures me is the night to come for.

While there, Paul and I booked flights and a hostel for a November 22-24 weekend jaunt to Stockholm, Sweden! We're leaving extremely early on Saturday morning and heading back to the UK the following Monday - school is still in sesh, yo. We have plans to head to a boat party on the Sunday night. More details to follow.

Doc's Prescription for the Day: Read a book published by the Oxford University Press. It will make you smarrter.

Weekend Update Part 1: Taking a Bath.doc

The UK Roadtrips continued this weekend with stops at Bath and Oxford. The weekend was too vast to contain in one post so today I chronicle the day trip to Bath and tomorrow I'll tackle my time at Oxford. Ah, Bath. I had heard before going from a few different sources that the town was one of the most picturesque spots in England and I have to say the visit did not disappoint. 

Once again, I was up early to get the weekend going - 6:55am to catch the uni bus to Leamington Spa train station en route to Oxford. The trains here have a small electronic sign above each pair of seats which indicates whether or not they have been reserved at any point during the trip (for example someone getting on three spots from now might have booked that specific seat). I found a pair completely vacant and started some readings on the way to Oxford. Only 40 minutes later and I had arrived. After sending various text messages back and forth, Paul arrived at the station and we set out for Bath. I'm sure it will happen a handful of times in the next year that I'm over here, but I cannot stress how comforting it is to see a friend from home in this foreign place - someone with a shared history who knows the references and stories. The trip to Bath was a lot longer than it should have been, due to updates to the rail system we had to transfer to a coach bus for a portion of the trip, but Paul and I used the time to catch up on summer happenings and make comparisons between the UK and our 'home and native land'.

Paul spent the last year studying Immunology at Oxford (Go Lincoln College!) and is back this year working in the department doing research. It was his first trip to Bath as well. As with the majority of my travels thus far, we didn't have much of a set itinerary (take note if/when you come to visit) but that's the way I prefer to tackle things. We set out from the coach park and headed to the city centre. The majority of the buildings in Bath are a beautiful deep yellow aged stone that defines that 'old-world charm' that everybody talks about.

We noticed a small crowd gathering in the centre of the market and headed in for a look. Upon closer inspection we realized it was a street performance featured two older men balancing on ladders wearing thongs. Now, it's late October and still quite chilly here. The 'act' got even more strange when the men stood upside down on the chairs and revealed sparklers placed (carefully, I'm sure) between their butt cheeks. Talk about a finale - I kid you not. The crowd, probably not knowing what to think, went wild. Apparently these guys have performed in the city for years. They had a really good repartee with the audience, even if they were a bit cheeky.

Not my video, but previdence nonetheless:  

Ironically, the performance was right in front of Bath Abbey an Anglican parish church founded in the 7th century. Edgar was crowned King of England there in 973. Once again, it's hard to describe the immensity of this building (which has been reconstructed after damage from WWII) and the humble feeling one gets in a place with so much history. The organ being played in the Abbey sounded beautiful and we were encouraged to spend as much time as possible wandering around.

After seeing how citizens of Bath had worshipped for the past centuries we moved on to see how they leisured: The Roman Baths. After the invasion of the Romans, construction of a temple at the site of the warm water bubbling up from the Earth began in 60-70 AD and lasted some good 300 years. While the original structure has been modified since then, housed now in 18th century surroundings, the original architecture of the Roman structure has been excavated and placed on display. The green soupy water, from which steam rises and the occasional bubble pops, is mystifyingly attractive - it's almost as if something lurks deep beneath. We were given neat audio accompaniments (which resembled Zack Morris' 1992 cell phone) and even met an actress playing Minerva, the figure to which the original shrine was dedicated. The performer lurked around the grounds in what resembled a toga and took pictures with tourists.

Apparently the water in the Baths is hazardous and thus guests are instructed not to touch or drink it. This of course does not stop those persistent souls who want to be able to say they've touched the water at the Roman Baths. We were told later that infectious disease can be caught from the water - a girl died from meningitis in 1979 after swallowing some of the green murky substance. I was glad we avoided the urge to reach out and touch...

In addition to just wandering around the city and seeing the gorgeous architecture, we visited two other museums. The first was the Fashion Museum which housed a number of collections which compared 'fashion throughout the ages'. The exhibits compared dresses from the 18th century, for instance, with the innovative silhouettes of Yves Saint Laurent. They also had a number of Ralph Lauren originals and a collection of gloves dating back to the 16th century. I know a lot of people back in Toronto who would have been in fashion heaven.

The second stop was the Jane Austen museum. She spent five years of her life in Bath and apparently hated the poshness of it all. In my opinion, Bath is trying to milk the connection for all it's worth - the museum is neither J.A's house nor do they house any original artifacts from the author herself save for one letter she wrote. The house the author lived in while in Bath is now a dentist's office. I think they should relocate the tour to the original house: "This spot here, where Doctor Smith is performing a root canal, is where Jane Austen wrote Pride and Prejudice. Just follow me around the waiting room and I'll show you where her kitchen once was. Please don't take a toothbrush."

Before heading back to the coach park we stopped in for a burger and a pint for 6£ (I love this country) and inventoried our day - three museums, a street performance, and an Abbey is not bad for having no set plan. While in the pub, we watched that dreadful, but undeniably hilarious, Hole in the Wall gameshow which pits contestants against a rapidly approaching wall with a shape to which they must contort or face being smacked into a pool of water. Last video, I swear:

                               

 
After seeing a day of historical wonders, the irony of watching one of the lowest of lowbrow entertainments was not lost on me. From Bath we traveled to Oxford University...

Tune in tomorrow! Same Bath Time! Same Bath Channel!

(I avoided the obvious punning potential but one doesn't hurt)

Doc's Prescription of the Day: Why have showers become the superior form of washing-up? Maybe it relates to our more modern need for something more efficient, less time-consuming, and generally easier, but baths have been relegated to something one does "every once in a while". Rome wasn't built in a day - probably because peeps were chilling in the bath. Join them!

Vegetable Vocabulary.doc

i) So you probably all know that a tomato is pronounced 'Tom-OUGHT-0' over here. It's actually quite a nice change from the harshness of North American pronunciations - especially when the word drama is pronounced as 'DRAW-ma' instead of the cringe worthy 'Dr-AM-a'. What you may not know is that eggplant and zucchini are not merely pronounced differently, but referred to with alternate handles.  Zucchini is called courgette and eggplant is aubergine (like the colour). I stumbled upon this fact after a classmate was describing a stir fry with the above ingredients - "Courgette and aubergine...right?" It lead me to wonder if they make courgette bread and grilled aubergine. I must search out these delicacies.

ii) I have yet to encounter much rain. My small umbrella has dutifully held its place on the shelf for a good two weeks now without any action. I'm not complaining by any means but rather wondering whether it's all being saved up for a week long downpour or if I'm just getting completely lucky. We'd still had moderately chill mornings and evenings but the sun comes out every once in a while during the afternoon. It's not the Canadian fall I'm use to, but it could be much worst. The students in Finland have had subzero temperatures already! You must let me know when it first starts to snow in Canada - I won't see more than a handful of snowfalls over here, but I'll lament for you all.

iii) I've been asked to jump in and supervise/instruct some of the first year classes for a week! One of the professors is heading to Amsterdam as a guest lecturer and the director of the program thought I'd be a good candidate to oversee the first years while she is away. Much like the Drama 100 kids I worked with at Queen's, these groups are working toward final presentations. She figured that since I was a performer, and also since she said I possess a "direct and non-threatening manner", that I would be a suitable candidate. I think that might be a bit of the polite "Canadian-ness" shining through. I look forward to working with some of the Breens (British teens, thanks Hincks) if only for a week or so.

iv) I had a conversation with another student the other day about hockey in Canada. I assured him that even though it's the sport we're most known for, Lacrosse is technically our national sport (I don't even want to think where baseball falls on that list - poor Jays fans). My colleague was skeptical even though I'm the Canadian expert in the program, thank you very much. I checked online to be certain, I was sure I had heard about Lacrosse before, but was surprised by what I found. In 1994, the Federal Government introduced Bill C-212 making hockey Canada’s National winter sport and lacrosse Canada’s National summer sport. So the answer is apparently both. Canadian tax dollars hard at work; I'm surprised this never became a hot election issue. Politicans have an uncanny knack for making elections about issues that overshadow the real problems facing the country.

v) I'm heading to Oxford tomorrow. My friend Paul is going to show me around the campus, where he completed a MSc last year, and we are planning a day trip to Bath. This is yet another city with a variety of pronunciations - either like shower's opposite, or the more affected 'BAW-th'. Search me. We're also going to finalize plans for a trip to Stockholm, Sweden in November! Apparently flights are around 50£ return and they've got a great night life there. Oxford is the oldest university in the English-speaking world and boasts a very impressive group of alumni, such as:

Oscar Wilde

Percy Bysshe Shelley

 J.R.R. Tolkien

Kate Beckinsale

...and Mr. Bean.

I'm hoping the injection of visuals tides everyone over for the weekend - Have a good one! Oxford update upon return.

Doc's Prescription of the Day: An aubergine and courgette stir fry, naturally.

All Read and No Play Makes Keith a Dull Boy.doc

So after the whirlwind that was London, things have seemed pretty low-key in comparison the last couple of days. Never fear, there were still happenings that must be reported.

Monday - Four hours of class with one 15 minute break. You know I'm not a complainer, or maybe I have become a bit more cynical with old age, but I'd really appreciate a full 30 minutes. Granted we'd spent that extra 15 lounging on the couches like we do with the original 15, but it's about the principle - or something cliché like that. Monday's lectures were about theatrical representations of trauma, witnessing, and the holocaust. Yeah, light material - can you see why I want 15 more minutes?

The rest of the day was spent writing the last TWO blog posts (this is a meta-blog shout out), uploading 60 of the 220 photos I took in London, and watching two episodes of Lost. Yes, for those of you who are fans I have finally started watching (I'm currently in the middle of season two) It is the best procrastination to avoid readings.

Tuesday - My day off.  I debated endlessly about taking a day trip or just waiting until the weekend when I already have travel plans.  I debated so much that by the time 1pm rolled around I hadn't made a decision.  My fellow Tuesday travel mates decided that readings were too intense this week. I originally planned to go to Birmingham but since it was 1 I decided I wanted to do a whole day in Birm rather than an afternoon (Claire, do you approve?) so I opted for Coventry just to get off campus. 

Big mistake. Coventry ain't so pretty. What it's lacking in charm it makes up for in...urban street thugs.  Having seen Staged and Confused's The Crackwalker just before leaving Toronto, Coventry seemed like the perfect setting for Theresa, Al, Sandy, and Joe. The trip wasn't a total bust - I made my first Top Man purchases. Top Man, paired with Top Shop, is a UK clothing store comparable to H&M but with more hipster kind of stuff (David, you'd love it!) I had intended to stay in town and get readings done at a coffee shop but the Starbucks closed at 7pm there. In the next few weeks I hope to give Coventry another shot. It was bombed heavily during WWII and hence has had to rebuild a lot of the properties there. The city has three cathedrals which I didn't get to see while visiting - a new one built after the war and the ruins of two others, one of which was close to obliterated during WWII and left as a shell of its former self. I do hope to give the city a second chance and check out the historical aspects. While it may not be as nice as The Spa, every city has its redeeming qualities, yeah?

Wednesday - We had our usual film screening today. We watched a documentary about a particularly controversial art installation in Austria - the film was in German with no subtitles. I was waiting for something I was familiar with...oh I don't know, something like, "Ich habe braunes Haar und braune Augen. Ich habe einen Bruder und eine Schwester." No luck. I then went to the library and spent 5 hours reading - we have six periodicals and one play assigned for tomorrow. How do I find time to blog you may ask? The smiles on all the cherub faced readers back home get me through my day as they await a new prescription.

Tomorrow I'm playing VOLLEYBALL from 7-9pm and then going for a drink at the campus pub! For those who are unawares, I recently took up volleyball as part of the Drama Centre team last year at UofT. It was also the highlight of MANY a glorious day spent down by the river with the St. Lawrence Shakespeare crew - we played in a sand pit! I'm going with my friend Lena who is on her Erasmus year from Germany. Come to think of it, I should have brought her to the film!

This weekend I head to Oxford to visit Paul, my former housemate from Queen's at 309 Earl. I think we're going to hop down to Bath and see the sights.

Doc's Prescription for the Day: I saw this the other day and thought it was worth passing on (Hopefully y'all can see it - I think it requires a shockwave player) Slate.com considers, "If John McCain and Sarah Palin win in November, it's likely to be more than many Democrats can stand. Slate V imagines how the Canadian government might try to capitalize on this liberal anxiety." Yes it may play up all the stereotypes not necessarily true about our country - in the same way that we generalize about our friends to the south - but it's lighthearted. Enjoy.

Mind The Gap.doc

I'm fortunate on Mondays to have the whole afternoon free after attending class from 9am - 1pm. Thus, I am taking the opportunity to write the second blog entry of the day - this one a summary of my weekend getaway to London.  Instead of slotting the adventure into paragraphs I thought I'd chronologically document the weekend to avoid monotony but to also to give you a better picture of where I've been and what I've been up to.

Saturday

7:30am - Wake up.  Traveling right takes dedication (I'd be a brilliant 'Amazing Race'r)  If I had taken advantage of one of the only days to sleep in, I wouldn't have made it to London until mid-afternoon. Thus, I brave the brisk morning and down some oatmeal.

8:40am - I catch the bus from Warwick Campus to Leamington Spa (Hincks likes to call it Leamington Bra). The journey takes 30 minutes and I get one of my readings done for Monday en route.  I also delete all the photos on my camera; I feel there are going to be a lot of stereotypical tourist shots.

9:38am - Bus leaves 'The Spa' for London and costs 17£ return. Granted the trip isn't as far (about an hour and a half), but in comparison, Toronto to Kingston was in the ballpark of $80 return. Anyone see an injustice here?

11:15am - I arrive at Marylebone station in London with a light backpack.  I grab a coffee, don the shades, and I'm off. I couldn't have picked a more gorgeous day - the majority of the time the sun was shining and the sky was bright blue. I wander down Baker St. and start to soak in the atmosphere. I've come to learn that I take as much pleasure in walking around a city and charting my own path as I do going from place to place with purpose.

12:10pm - I realize I should give some structure to my day, having set nothing in stone before departing, so I consult my handy-dandy London guide (thanks Mom and Dad!).  I locate that I'm a three minute walk from the Wallace Collection which was recommended by one of my high school teachers.

12:15 to 2:00pm - Museums can really be an incredible experience.  The Wallace Collection is a private collection of art that was assembled by five generations of one family. The work is arranged in a collection of rooms (it's like you are touring a private residence) and there is no charge for admission.  The highlights of the visit are the paintings by Rubens, the opulent furnishings from the reign of Louis XIV, and Fragonard's The Swing which I remember studying in Mod. West. Civ. back in the day.  

2:00pm - I leave the Wallace Collection and head for Oxford St. I follow this to Regent and take it all the way down to Piccadilly Circus (think London's Times Square) Now, it's a Saturday so you probably can picture the mayhem at this spot.  I don't think I've seen so many people. Still, it was great to be surrounded by such happening sights.

2:30pm - I walk by the Canadian Embassy - it's big eh? I make my way to Trafalgar Square and join yet another immense collective of people. The weather is gorgeous and there are a lot of beautiful fountains.

3:00 to 4:00pm - I grab a quick sandwich lunch from a cafe and plan the rest of my afternoon. Pigeons keep bothering me for scraps.  From there I make my way to the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, Jewel Tower, and Westminster Abbey. The security around the Parliament buildings is intimidating, Big Ben is more opulent looking than I pictured it, the Jewel Tower charges 3£ entry so I walk around the outside, and the big disappointment of the day is that Westminster Abbey was closed so a trip back is necessary. The architecture is beautiful - these buildings have been standing for hundreds of years.

4:00 to 5:30pm - Since it's close by I stroll to Buckingham Palace (I mean, why not eh?) and take in the true reality of what I've only seen represented on film and TV. I wander all around the outside, explore the Canada gate which is on the roundabout outside the palace, and visit the memorial for Canadian soldiers from both world wars.  I traverse St. James Park and make my way through Green Park.  The Queen said to stop in for tea if I was ever in the area...but I don't want to impose.

5:30 to 6:15pm - Back on Piccadilly, I decide to continue East and visit Soho which right now is one of most trendy spots in all of London.  Lots of shops, lots of cafes, and it's bordered by China town so it's a really diverse area. I grab a quick dinner in the area even though I was sure the prices are more expensive than I had seen elsewhere.

6:15 to 7:00pm - From Soho I make my way North to Great Portland St. Station to meet Scheherazaad (a Queen's Drama friend) who welcomed me with open arms and offered me a couch to sleep on for the evening. 

7:00 to 8:00pm - Scher and I visit for an hour or so; it had been over two years since I'd last seen her! She just completed an MA in Theatre and Culture at Goldsmiths in London and has a very spacious apartment near Regent Park (as opposed to Toronto, this Regent Park is actually one of the nicest green spaces in the city)

8:00pm to sleep - Scher and I hop on the metro to head to a party she had said she'd attend. She tells me it's a long story as far as the family connections, but it's actually her cousin's engagement party! Luckily, it was at a bar so I didn't feel like such an outsider and it was only friends invited - no family to ask how I knew the happy couple.  The features of the party: no cover, an open bar for attendees until midnight, and plates of appetizers.  We had planned to venture elsewhere, but with a set up like that we stay the whole night and take a taxi back to the apartment.

Sunday 

10:30am to 12:00pm - Sleep in! Scher and I recount the events of the previous evening and then I get my stuff together to explore more of the city. Scher and I have plans to hit up more of the London nightlife or perhaps visit Rebecca in Manchester!

12:00 to 1:30pm - Around the corner from Scher's place is Regent Park and it's huge! I wander through at my own pace but realize I could spent three hours exploring. There's art festival going on so there are a variety of really neat sculptures in the park.  Lots of photos are taken and I had a steaming hot bacon wrap lunch. I walk past the World's Smallest Cinema housed in the park. There are over forty different types/colours of roses in Queen Mary's Garden.

1:30 to 4:00pm - I leave Regent Park and head down Gower Street on my way to Covent Garden. On the way I take a two hour detour in the British Museum. Incredible, immense, and inspiring. Two hours is only enough to explore the main floor which housed an extraordinary amount of artifacts from Egypt, Greece, an Enlightenment collection, and, maybe the most important artifact of them all, the Rosetta stone. Like the Louvre, one could spend a week there and not have seen everything. Yet again, no admission charge and lots of beautiful architecture.

4:00 to 5:30pm - An obligatory H&M stop, with no success, and then a stroll through Covent Garden where the Market is at full height on Sunday - street performers, great food, and wonderful music. By this point my camera runs out of juice; I thought I had charged the battery enough but I was mistaken.  I am content just to take in the festival atmosphere.

5:30 to 9:00pm - I make my way to the metro, for only the second time in the weekend (the first being for the party with Scher), and head to Paddington Station where I catch a 6:30 train to The Spa. I arrive back in my residence room with weekend to spare exhausted and fulfilled.

Estimated KMs walked: 18 (I was curious so I 'mapquested' to get a ballpark)

London Districts I managed to visit: Marylebone, Paddington, Victoria, Westminster, Mayfair & St. James, Soho, and Covent Garden.

Doc's Prescription for the Day: I learned so much about London this past weekend and had an amazing time, but the tip I most want to pass on is to take advantage of museum cloakrooms for the day.  The British Museum for instance requires just one pound to house your backpack/suitcase while you 'browse the collection'.  For one pound at the start of the day you can leave your bag there while you travel the city and then return for it before close.  The place is so big they'd have no idea. Maybe a bit unfair, but travelers need to take advantage of any resource available.

(I've also filled your prescription with a new London facebook album).

Forced Entertainment.doc

Last Thursday night I was lucky enough to have attended Forced Entertainment's Spectacular at the Warwick Arts Centre. The lights rise on a bare stage save for curtains that have been tied at their bottoms and a microphone place at stage right. So begins Spectacular. After the initial moment allowed to survey the lack of theatrical elements, a stocky man in a skeleton costume timidly walks down to centre. It becomes obvious that he is not suppose to be a skeleton but rather an actor in a skeleton costume. The actor is awkward for a reason. Tonight's show is different than all the others, he explains. He then goes on to describe the elements that usually animate the show are all missing - the band, the grand staircase, and a collection of potted plants, supposedly for decoration.  While on one hand his description of these elements prompts us to imagine what exactly 'the show' would look like, it also serves to highlight that the elements are missing. Here, minimalism and absence is the object of study.

After comfortability sets in with our skeletal host, an actress walks onto the stage and tells him she'd like to start her 'death scene'. What follows is an incredibly melodramatic and prolonged stage death that continues to overshadow 'the show' our original host is attempting to describe. Here, the combination of theatricality and death serve as the way into the questions the company is exploring with Spectacular. Death onstage is explored in two ways: the host dressed in a skeleton costume and the actress 'pretending' to die. While they acknowledge that a fascination with death peppers their work, in this respect, death is the ultimate unrepresentable: one can perform dying onstage and try to hide their breathing, but when the house lights go down, that performer rises from the stage and walks to the wings just as the others do. Furthermore, audiences have an undeniable fascination with characters 'playing dead' - we look for ways to catch them in the act of pretending, often focusing just as much attention as those on the ground in the final scene in Hamlet as those still left standing.

It is through this concept of onstage death that the company is exploring the limitations of imitation and the possibility of language. No matter how convincing the death, no one is fooled. In the same way, the artifice of performance - in this respect the material elements of set, costume, and props - is merely an indication of what is described by the collection of objects. In Spectacular, this description is not accomplished through images but by means of the narration from the host.  How does what is spoken by this figure, rather than what is placed before our eyes, become recreated in our imagination? Is this form of narration inferior to seeing the 'world of the play' through the elements that are absent in this performance? Onstage death, for Forced Entertainment, is the most proper study for the possibilities and limitations of theatricality.

I end the summary of the show with questions to ponder because Forced Entertainment would rather you leave perplexed and confused rather than content and 'in the know'. In the talk back, Tim Etchells described that the company treats theatre as an object that can be picked up, shaken, thrown to the floor, and handled aggressively (In this respect maybe we can surmise that some of the worst theatre is that which is handled with 'kid's gloves') The show vacillated from moments of engaging activity to prolonged stillness. Watching wasn't necessarily easy - at points, I wished something would happen to break the silence - but that's the very point of what they are hoping to accomplish.

The next day we invited one of the performers, Claire Marshall, into the studio to run a workshop. We explored the possibilities that comes with walking, running, and standing still in space and the inevitable narratives that can be deduced from these incredibly simple stage pictures. The majority of the work that afternoon was focused on getting a taste for the type of material the company is interested in: confessions, the intersection of "truth" and deception, stillness, and creating a connection with the spectators who share the space of the theatre. If there was one thing to take away from the workshop it is Forced Entertainment's belief in an aggressive dismantling of the 4th wall which is the first step to creating a lasting and meaningful engagement with spectators. Claire was quick to stress however that at no point does the group seek audience participation (see the post below) but rather invites the audience to consider the questions being examined alongside the performers.

My excitement for the company connects back to a project I was a part of at Queen's University called Variations on x and why we float, directed by Michelle Newman, which used some of Forced Entertainment's texts as the basis of our multimedia experimentation. It was one of the only times the company allowed their work to be used by an outside group. Part of the reason we used the texts of this company was to harness the spirit of their work which focuses on confessions, rule breaking, and gaps/absences in performance. Our goal was to take their texts and 'write back' to them in the hopes that something would be created anew.

While their offerings may not appeal to every spectator, their desire to create engaging and probing work is what marks them a part from the majority of British theatre companies. If you love it, hate it, or walk out of it, the point is that you've had a reaction to what you've encountered - and that is what's important.

Doc's Prescription for the Day: http://www.forcedentertainment.com/?lid=1081

T.G.I.Friday.doc

The title says it all. It's been a busy week - a full schedule of class with over 200 pages of reading plus two plays. That in addition to the unprecedented success of the previous 'fragmented' blog format has thrown this writer into a tailspin (should it be ADD-friendly obs. and musings every post??) For now I return to give an update before heading out for the weekend where upon my return I'll have plenty of catching up to do.

Wednesday evening I went with friends from the program to see Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea which is a play by a theatre group called 1927. It turns out Warwick Arts Centre attracts some of the best theatre companies in the country and this offering was no exception. The play was organized into a series of vignettes featuring two performers and a piano player. The interesting thing about this company is that their work is all multimedia/cartoon/projection based - it was one of the most innovative uses of multimedia I've ever seen. The general format is that there is a film of each vignette which is projected onto a screen and the performers insert themselves into the surrounding projection (i.e - projection of a forest scene with a performer playing Little Red Riding Hood at centre) Describing the work in this crude fashion does not do justice to the extremely creative images they were able to achieve through precise timing and a dedication to simplicity.

The highlight of the night though, oh dedicated reader, was when I myself was the object of ridicule. That's right. The second last vignette featured two eerie little twin girls (think the pair of dead twins in The Shining) who tell us that their baby-sitting grandmother ran off into the forest after she had had enough of their ridicule. They then proceed to wonder if anyone else would like to play with them - cue the house lights up. What followed next was the awkward shuffling and uncomfortable laughter that accompanies any moment when the audience is threatened with having to 'be included'. The two twins moved closer and after surveying the crowd, settled upon me and another man as the two possible candidates for participation. Even though I had averted eye contact as much as possible, I was in the second row and the chair in front of me was empty - I guess I made for easy pickings. After playing an excruciating game of "enny, meeny, minny, moe", I lost. I was escorted on stage, much to the amusement of the people I had come with and the general collective of which I was a part. I think there is always an odd sense of pity for the chosen member (Poor bloke!) but also relief that another lamb is given over to slaughter (Thank god it's not me!)

The twins lied. They were not looking for another playmate but rather a stand-in grandmother. They dressed me in her clothes and we walked behind the screen where, as we exited behind it, the film seamlessly bridged the gap and it appeared as if we had walked into the movie. While behind the screen I watched as the prerecorded "film" version in which me as granny gets ridiculed, beat up, and tortured by the little twins. Cleverly the film always shoots granny from behind so there is never any shot of the face, and thus the illusion is preserved. For my efforts I was given a bag of candy and some souvenirs from the show. The novelty of being "that poor bloke who got dragged up" was enough to quell the humiliation of what they did to me onstage. It's one thing to mount the stage as a performer and carry out a role, it's another thing to expect to be a spectator all evening and suddenly be thrust as yourself onstage in front of 120 people.

The end of today's classes concluded week 3 of the first 5 weeks of "intensive" lectures and seminars that will lead into group work and more focused projects. The discussions so far have been topics of which I had had no previous exposure so they've been extremely interesting. A little taste:

Archive and the Repertoire: The performance archive could be said to house documents, DVDs, scripts, programs, and all records of a performative event. The repertoire is 'embodied performance' that transmits knowledge orally and through action - this is the ephemeral.

Interculturalism: We discussed all the inherent problems with 'intercultural' performance - translation, reception, and the decoding of signs being the major points of interest.

Estrangement: Brecht comes up everywhere you look and this course is no different. We considered how the V-effect has permeated a variety of art forms and its manifestations today.

Cultural Memory and Performance / Liminality and Ritual: The Olympic games was examined as a form of cultural performance unlike any other in the world. How are the games a mix of spectacle, ritual, sport, and festival and when do these forms of performance threaten one another?

Performance and the Law: The concept of the 'Public Sphere' was discussed in regards to how to create theatre for civic engagement. We discussed so-called 'Utopian Performance' (Angels in America, The Laramie Project, and Def Poetry Jam) Michael, this was the article I was going to send you.

Celebrity, Authority, and 'It': The performance of Celebrity was quite an interesting topic. While we did consider figures in Hollywood, Brangelina for instance, we also touched on those who become unintentional celebrities - Anne Frank through her diary for example. My Canadian example of this type of celebrity with a lasting impact was Terry Fox.

Heteroglossia - The existence of two or more voices within a text. In this case, theatre with more than one language spoken. How does the reception of this type of work change? How do we negotiate between verisimilitude and artistic convention/accessibility.

Witness Protection Program - A visiting scholar gave a really engaging paper about the performative aspects of the Witness Protection Program. How is one expected to pick up and leave everything they know only to 'perform' a character for the rest of their lives? It's a complex concept once you step back from the romanticized film notion of the program.

Three weeks and, as you can tell, a variety of interesting topics.

Tonight some of the MAIPR student are headed to a residence party for our building. It should prove to be a laid-back little shinding. Since I'm planning on leaving for London tomorrow at 9:30, I'm going to call it an early night to really take advantage of the weekend. Later on down the pipeline is a blog about the show seen last evening from Forced Entertainment and of course a summary of the happenings in Londontown.

Doc's Prescription of the Day: No more audience participation theatre. Yikes. Have a great weekend everyone!

Fragmentertaining.doc

So it's time for another update but I'm spicing things up today with a new format. Rapid fire updates, musings, and observations. It may be inspired by a discussion of "post-modern fragmenting" that came up concerning theatre, but I think it's good to break patterns every once in a while.

1. Thanksgiving Sushi. I was wrong in assuming that my fellow Canadians would have better luck at the grocery than I. After considering a whole chicken as an option after not finding suitable turkey, the girls opted for something more "mod-ren" for our UK feast. Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, I introduce you to Thanksgiving Sushi:


I hope you recognize not only the turkey, but also the cranberries that were carefully rolled into the seaweed. The event brought together three Canadians, a Brit, a South-African, a Swiss, and an American who promised to hold the same event in November. More traditional items such as sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, and apple crisp were enjoyed alongside the sushi. I don't think it's necessarily what the pilgrims had in mind - well, maybe the ones in Seattle and Van.

2. My maid's name is Yolansa. I must apologize in advance for probably misspelling her name, but I didn't get a chance to ask how it was spelt. That's right, I have a maid. One of the perks of living at Heronbank, in addition to the en suite, is that we have our own "flat cleaner" who cleans our rooms and bathrooms once a week. In addition, Yolansa also cleans the kitchen - but thankfully is not commissioned to do the dishes. Now one would think that postgraduate students would be able to pick up after themselves, but for the 100£ I'm paying per week I'll gladly accept the bathroom clean (I told her I'd take care of my own room) I've already planned to get Yolansa a nice holiday gift in December.

3. Last evening I decided to stay up late and catch the Canadian election coverage (CBC is now announcing we are predicting a Conservative minority...) Why you might ask? Well, I've felt strangely disconnected from the campaign goings-on (is that an oxymoron in Canadian politics?) so I thought I'd stream some live CBC and watch the results. It's like I was watching right along side with you - you were all watching, I take it? For those concerned about the time difference, I went to bed at midnight, woke up at 3am and stayed up for an hour and a half and then went back to bed. Seeing Peter Mansbridge gave me an odd sense of comfort, even though the outcome was anything but comforting.

4. Overshadowing the election, and a welcomed overshadowing at that, was a conference 'ichat' call with Michael and Megan. The DSC triumvirate was reunited once again! We chatted about life goals, travel, politics, and possibly forming our own pimp-daddy house flipping business (patent pending). Megan did an undulation, Michael sported his DSC sweater, and I put on a funny costume - it was just like old times. In all seriousness it was like "chicken soup for the soul" to sit down for an hour and chat with old friends; they updated me as to how everyone was doing in the big city. I'm happy to hear about the new and exciting projects and hope to jump right alongside you upon my return.

5. I've reverted to saying "Where are the toilets?", "Mobile", "queue", and "quid" as opposed to "Where is the washroom", "cellphone", "line", and "pound". Not so much a matter of becoming "British-ized", as I can state right now that I'm certain I won't come back with an accent, but more just to assimilate to some of the common phrases. As much as the chuckle, head shake, and endearing "I love that you say washrooms!" is mean in all good faith, it gets tiring. There is something interesting about the use of the terms "washroom" or "bathroom" to describe the place where you are going to use the "toilet". Maybe it's the euphemistic quality of "washroom" and "bathroom" that North Americans find so appealing. "Where are the toilets?" is just so blunt.

6. The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plane. In England, it doesn't stay on the plane. We've been having fairly good weather for October so I am told - we've had some very sunny days. But it does rain quite often. The definition of "rain", however, is different from what I know to be rain. It seems that any wet type of precipitation is called rain. Whereas I might say it's "spitting" or "misting" out is unequivocally rain, or so Lotte says. Regardless, I've had yet to use my umbrella much (thanks Aunt Theresa and Uncle Ed) but look forward to many wet and soggy Oct/Nov treks to school.

7. Fashion observation. Not being in Toronto, I'm not sure if this trend has hit in North America yet. It probably was fashionable months ago, and I just now am jumping on the bandwagon with all the other latecomers while the true trendsetters are sporting the latest knick-knack-paddy-whack accessory. So, rolled up pant cuffs. I'm not talking the old, my jeans are too long so I'll fold the cuffs up. This is like a 1 -2" cuff roll up usually done with dark jeans. I'm looking to you for this one, Erin.

8. Tomorrow night I am seeing one of the UK's most innovative and cutting-edge theatre companies, Forced Entertainment. I would have trekked to London to see this group but luckily they are making a two night stop at the Warwick Arts Centre. We have also been told that they may even agree to do a workshop with us on Friday afternoon. For those who went to Queen's, Forced Entertaiment was the theatre company from which the texts for Variations on x and why we float were borrowed and "written back to". Needless to say I'm quite excited for the show and will provide an update later on (specially for all my x/why-ers that happen to follow the blog).

9. I'm heading to London this weekend! I am unable to go this Friday since we're having a residence party here so will depart Saturday morning and stay Saturday night and head back Sunday evening. Since it is not a proper visit, but merely just a chance to get off campus for the weekend, I don't think I'll stay with the family friend we have there, Andrew, but will save his offer to visit until I can have a proper Friday - Sunday weekend or sometime during my reading week. I plan on hitting up a few more landmarks.

10. Doc's Prescription for the Day: I think this has been a welcome change to the blogosphere format (just for today). Mix up old routines. And something I learned from my colleague Megan, an undulation a day...

Ode to Thanksgiving.doc

My birthday and Thanksgiving have always been a one-two October punch in my household - they actually coincide once every four years. This makes it hard to always be able to celebrate with friends but the benefit is that I've come to associate my birthday with my favourite meal of the year and a time for considering that which we tend to take for granted. This past weekend was filled with the continually mounting coursework of these first few weeks, but also a small tinge of homesickness that inevitably comes with the passing of two celebrations away from friends and family.

Saturday was academic decathlon day. The Department of Theatre and Performance Studies was hosting a conference for the launch of a new Performance Studies textbook. After receiving the invitation and lineup of speakers in my 'pigeon hole', I was informed that the attendees and speakers were all well respected celebrities in the field of Performance Research (alas, there was no red carpet event). To give some background, the degree I am pursuing considers Theatre and Performance studies. The latter of the two umbrellas of research considers performance as existing everywhere: everyday identities, gender, politics, culture, celebrities, media, and a wide range of other possibilities. Thus, performance studies borrows terms from the theatre and analyzes the performance the 'everyday' construction of identities, rituals, events, and groups of people. Really quite interesting. The conference featured highly theoretical studies of performance, the majority of which flew over my head. The benefit of attending, aside from being opened up to a multitude of new ideas of social performance, was the continual coffee/tea and biscuits bar between each paper and the very delicious lunch. The Drama DSC attended an exhausting three conferences in our time at Queens, and the food at this conference was a reminder of those days.

Sunday was a catch-up day of sorts doing readings I had not been able to accomplish while at the conference (if it's not one form of studying it's another). I also managed to make it to the grocery store to stock up and did laundry for the first time. 3£ to do one load of wash and dry is not cheap, but I had run out of boxers. The highlight of Sunday was calling home and having a brief chat with Mom, Dad, Todd, and Patches back home. I didn't actually talk to the dog, but the night before she didn't know what to do with herself because my voice was coming out of the computer (a frightening experience for a dog I would imagine). I could almost hear the contentment that sets in after a full-out turkey dinner with all the trimmings. That feeling of "I just stuffed myself full of rich food" and couldn't be happier about it. As much as the conversation with home made me wish I was there to celebrate, my lack of a "proper Thanksgiving" actually made me more thankful for what I have than ever before. You don't realize how much you appreciate all those comforts and routines until they're taking place without you. This was one of those instances in which the momentary sadness of not being home is overshadowed by the perspective I'm gaining on my year abroad.

While us Canadians won't get a "proper Thanksgiving" this year, we still are trying our best! Pumpkin flavoured items aren't popular fare over here. I spend half an hour browsing the local grocery trying to find a pumpkin pie. The search quickly became for anything containing pumpkin: muffins, tarts, or even soup. No luck. Two other Canadians and I are having a make-shift Thanksgiving dinner in one of the residence kitchens tonight. They recruited me to find dessert, and naturally I settled on pumpkin pie, but instead will be arriving with a Bramble-Apple pie. I wonder too if they had the same type of luck at Tescos and the meal will consist of chicken, raspberries, asparagus and bramble-apple instead of turkey, cranberries, potatoes, and pumpkin. I'm sure they were more successful than I and that the feast will be just enough of a taste of home.

There are certain Queen's friends who usually demand that when we gather for a meal we go around the circle and tell the group what we feel thankful for. I am usually one of the scoffers who rolls their eyes and chuckles (this is usually due to the fact that I'm just about to dive into my plate). I can picture what each member of our special group of friends might say they are thankful for this year. Aside from being thankful for this wonderful blog, the anticipation of an update being that which keeps them going, I can picture them describing that which truly makes them feel whole. Our realizations are usually humbling ones.

This year, I'll gladly embrace the tradition and take my turn around the table: I'm grateful to know there are a bundle of wonderfully talented, supportive, and caring people back in Canada who love me. But I also am I'm grateful for the opportunity to leave them for a time to study and travel in Europe with the knowledge that this next year will be invaluable in gaining perspective and coming back a more informed young man. (If there is one thing Canadians know how to do, it's make sap) I hope you'll allow me the liberty of indulging.

Doc's Prescription for the Day: I scoff at going around the table too, but deep down really like the tradition. That's really a prescription for the soul. Enjoy it alongside the soul food.

Have a Jolly Ol' Birthday Gov'na.doc

Yesterday I turned 24 years old. I was born on October 9, 1984 at 7:01pm in Hamilton, Ontario. My parents stopped for something to eat on the way to the hospital, or so I remember the story to go. Last year I was lucky enough to celebrate in style with over 20 of my closest gathered together in secret for a surprise party. Definitely one of the more memorable birthdays I had ever had. I figured you'd want to hear how I spent my day so this is post two!

This year I knew the celebration would be different. I've only been in the UK for two weeks, everyone in the program is just starting to get more comfortable with one another, and we all had lecture at 9am the next morning. When I got to class yesterday, the class surprised me with a Rahl Dahl chocolate cake with my name spelled out in marshmallows and an eye for detail in the 'Canadian flag' placed directly over the 'i':



Postgraduate students are very crafty! So after the obligatory singing of Happy Birthday we shared cake throughout the lecture. After class I took the afternoon to myself and left the readings at home. I grabbed lunch on campus and took advantage of what was a pretty gorgeous day - we sat down for a tea in the afternoon in a pseudo quad area of campus. After a nap to prep for the evening events I made a quick dinner. We headed to this campus bar called 'The Varsity' (how sporty!) where on Thursdays it is 1£ pint night. Needless to say, our early arrival (7pm, early by anyone's standards) proved to be a wise move as the bar filled up quite quickly. This is the place to be on Thursdays. The other benefit of 1£ pints was that I obviously didn't have to pay for a drink. Now, this is normal birthday etiquette of course but with drinks being merely one quid I didn't feel guilty that everyone else was footing the bill. They had no excuse!

The feature of the birthday for me was that it was the first time EVERYONE in the MAIPR group had come out to socialize. That means I have the honour of saying that 11 countries were represented at the party. I couldn't picture a more interesting way to spend my birthday. The HB song was sung in Spanish by the time everyone had a few pints in them and the girls from Peru and Mexico wanted to share. We played a few 'beverage sipping related games' at the bar which were a new experience for some of the students. The night slipped into revelry and festival while thankfully avoiding a debaucherous outcome.

Now I've usually had class the morning after my birthday and this year was no exception. In fact, I remember two years ago that I had an 8:30am Canadian Theatre class with Craig the day after my birthday. That year the 295 girls threw a big jam as everyone got back from Thanksgiving. My dear friend Emily, being the social activist that she is, decided that it was an injustice that I'd be subject to such an early class the morning after my 22nd celebrations. So, taking matters in her own hands, she sat down and wrote a very professional email to our professor from the party informing him that I most likely not be in attendance. Why weren't you here to write me an email, Em??

In all honesty, this morning wouldn't have been so bad had I been able to wake up at my own pace. It just so happened to be the morning that the good old Heronbank residence staff decided to have our term fire alarm test. Now I'm all for being proactive when it comes to fighting fires (don't hate on Smokey) but a 7:30am fire alarm on a Friday morning is just plain punishment. I wasn't impressed.

Luckily the day was a productive one (class 9:00am -5:00pm) and everyone was really happy to have used my birthday as an excuse to socialize together for the first time. Thank you to everyone back home who sent emails, e-cards, fbook msgs, wall posts, and even a card in the mail from an extremely thoughtful friend. I will get back to all of you soon! Yesterday was the absolute best birthday I could have hoped for in a new land, but the absence of friends and family was a reminder of the wonderful network of people I have back home. I missed you all but took comfort in the fact that you were thinking about me sometime during your day.

Doc's Prescription for the Day: The office is closed for post-birthday recovery.

The Shakespearience.doc

Tuesday is now officially 'excursion day' during my time at Warwick. As opposed to the schedules at Queen's and UofT, where I could have counted on two days a week off or at the very least my Fridays free, Tuesday is my ONLY day of the week with no class aside from weekends. This schedule had been hard to get use to at first but I'm slowly coming around. It means that the 'academic week proper' flies by and the lectures are all crunched into five weeks of instruction.   

This past Tuesday I accompanied Bec, the Australian, and Lotte, the resident Brit, to Stratford-upon-Avon, home of one Mr. William Shakespeare.  The trip was kind of a spur of the moment type deal as we decided the night previous around 11.  The selling factor with Stratford was that we could grab a bus just after 9am from campus directly to the historic site.  Always hard to get up that early for lectures but for a travel excursion it was no problem!  Lotte, ever the optimist, had been to Stratford to see shows at the RSC but looked forward to playing travel guide to green Euro travelers. This relatively small jaunt to Stratford, it took about 40 mins, is to be the start of a host of local UK day trips to surrounding places of note (Bristol, Warwick Castle, Cardiff, Birmingham, etc.)  If I've learned one thing about traveling in the UK it's that everything is accessible and really cheap if you travel at the right time of day.

I want to avoid using the word 'quaint' as much as possible because it's a cop-out adjective that could be applied to any small English town. So, they're all quaint - we can get that out of the way.  Stratford is situated right on the water and is home to the Royal Shakespeare Company which is going through major renovations at the moment.  It was actually a bit eerie how much the original Stratford has the same feeling as Stratford, Ontario. Both towns embrace applying the Shakespeare name to their streets and shops - we saw a Shakespeare Fish and Chips as well as Shakespeare Variety Store - and the small town on the water feel is similar. Unfortunately it was a really dreary day, go figure, but the outing proved to be the perfect break from the academic intensity of the first two weeks.

Being our first time in Stratford, Bec and I wanted to make sure we visited Shakespeare's grave in the Holy Trinity Church.  As opposed to the other historic houses in the town which charged over 7 pounds entry per head, Shake's birthplace among others, the church where he is buried asks for a contribution of 1.50 for adults and 50p for students which goes towards upkeep and renovation.  We were greeted at the entry by a retiree who devotes his hours to working at the church and chatting with tourists from all over the world (those making the trek to the Thespian Mecca so to speak).  After giving us a brief introduction to the history of the church he let us wander into the main portion and encouraged us to take as many photos as we wanted.  It was really freeing to be given the chance to just wander in the church Shakespeare once attended - the experience is made a personal one. Having now played four of his characters, two young lovers and two young hotheads, it felt fitting to make this one of the first stops in the UK.

We felt like our trip to the church was the most appropriate 'Shakespearience' so instead of visiting the other 'more commercialized' sites, which were charging ridiculous entry fees, we decided instead to spend our money on eating hearty English meals.  We had a big breakfast at Anne Hathaway's Tea Shop - I'm happy to learn that breakfasts here include tomatoes (TOM-OUGHT-Os) and mushrooms as part of the plate.  We finished breakfast off with a lemon bun which we took on our walk down cobblestone streets. No visit to Stratford would be complete without a visit to the local H&M (yes....in Stratford of all places)  It made me wonder what Shakes would have looked like in a striped jumper and fall jacket.  The funny thing with a store like H&M is that once you're inside you feel like you could be anywhere - Yonge and Bloor for instance - instead of the birthplace of the "Man of the Millennium".  After a bit of window shopping we walked through a really old antique market which housed over 50 stalls of really interesting knick-knacks.  

The majority of the afternoon was spent wandering up and down streets soaking in the local culture.  A group of Stratford kids interviewed us to "get a glimpse into why tourists come to Stratford".  They were excited when I told them a) I was from Canada and b) I studied theatre. We didn't get to see much of the RSC buildings (there were no tours offered that day) but I was impressed by the calibre of actors featured on the posters and books chronicling the company's history. At the moment David Tennant and Patrick Stewart are starring in Hamlet but the run is sold out. To get one of the 10 tickets offered each day people are sleeping overnight - don't know if that's in the cards.  We are, however, returning to Stratford in just under two weeks time to see Romeo and Juliet.  R&J in Stratford in December - could it get much better than that?

We finished the afternoon off with a late lunch at a traditional English pub.  The decision to avoid spending money at tourist traps and instead indulging in great eats was the perfect choice! I had a really great chicken sandwich with cranberry mayo as well as a mound of chips (I hope I'm not patronizing here but chips = fries) Bec and I were taking photos ALL day, much to the amusement of our British companion.  Tuesday excursions will hopefully be able to continue this term.  The plan is to hit up as many UK spots as possible before jetsetting to somewhere TBD for Christmas. 

Wednesday I met my 'Personal Tutor' who is like an academic advisor while I am at Warwick. His name is Milija and he is one of the professors on the MAIPR course.  Oddly enough, he completed his PhD at the University of Toronto so we spent the first 15 minutes chatting about mutual professors we've had.  I also was introduced to my very own PIGEON HOLE in the department.  For those of you who frequent Emily's blog you will know that the pigeon hole is the Euro equivalent of a mailbox.  Like the other American girl in the course, I can't help but smile, or think of carrier pigeons delivering notes, whenever I hear the term.  I hope my pigeon 'ole gets filled with lots of important documents.

Doc's Prescription for the Day: A cup of Earl Grey tea. Before coming to England I thought it was a pretty boring option, but I've grown to like the distinct flavour. Maybe it's the new connection of E.G tea to brisk mornings, but it has become the tea of the month.  Tea-bomb?

Moo-ving to the Beat in Leamington Spa.doc

In contrast to the academic nature of the previous posting, today's catchup with the Doc (isn't third person narration pretentious?) is more of the social nature.  This is for two reasons:

1. As per what I expressed on Saturday, I needed to get my head out of the books and take care of final 'settling' details and generally just explore the surroundings.

2.The weekend just passed. Weekends should be social.

I sent out for Leamington Spa ('The Spa' from here on out) mid-morning on Saturday.  I had researched the bus schedule pretty intensely to ensure I was able to get there and back, but more importantly to give the impression that I knew what I was doing when exchanging pounds and navigating my way. Luckily, buses depart from campus every 15 minutes and return fare was a reasonable 2.60.  I took my place in the upper portion of the bus, is there any other way to travel, and looked forward to seeing some more of the UK.

You'd maybe think that having been here for 10 days I would have explored some of the city and gotten my bearings - not so.  In addition to the initial workload, the geography of Warwick campus has limited such exploration.  On campus, or at least within walking distance, are located two grocery stores, a top of the line arts centre, restaurants and cafes, an athletic centre, and four different banks.  The abundance of these types of services is a direct result of Warwick being essentially in the middle of nowhere.  Now, that may not be fair - the city is surrounded by Coventry, Kenilworth, The Spa, and Leicester but it takes a bus to get to each of these places.  Those who know me know I am a walker.  My industrious housemate and I didn't TTC to school once while at UofT.  This isolation has taken a bit of getting use to. One could spend a month solely on campus and not have to leave, but aside from the British charm Warwick could be placed anywhere and it would feel similar (This feeling will be the complete opposite I imagine when I am studying in the heart of Amsterdam)  It was with 10 straight days of campus living that I set off for The Spa.

What a difference a change of scenery makes.  The Spa is a really beautiful and posh old market town featuring a lot of Georgian and Victorian buildings.  You might picture a market town to be quaint, subtle, and quiet, but The Spa is anything but. 'The Parade' is The Spa's High Street which covers the length of the town and features high street shops, department stores, restaurants, and art stores. The uniformity of the buildings on this street, in creams and off white, give the impression that window shopping and weekend strolls are what this town has been designed around.  Upon first arriving I walked up and down the main strip snapping pictures and inventorying the commercial options: Topman, yet another Tesco, Woolworths, and two Marks and Spencer shops among many others.  

It's the shopping that the students all mention about The Spa so I felt it was necessary to indulge in the local culture.  I purchased a mobile, which you've heard about, with an 'Orange' sim card.  I tried my best to 'search out all options' but got tired of comparing five different companies - struggles with cell phones seems to be an international experience. However, as opposed to their Canadian counterparts, who seem to always wrestle clients into three year contracts, the European companies are happy to lock you into 'pay as you go options' which is what I got.  Fast forward two hours and I was carrying around a pair of Nikes for the gym and jogging around campus, an in-between fall jacket lined with a soft kind of fur, and a few essential kitchen items.  I'm sure there is an article out there about the temporary pleasures that come with consumerism, but I have no shame in stating that spending made me happy.  This feeling was probably related to the stabilizing features these items brought but also the opportunity to feel like I accomplished something off campus.

I collected my purchases and had time for a Starbucks before heading back on the bus.  I eagerly lugged my purchases to Heronbank, made some dinner, and blogged about the week. Now I know most of you are expecting 'The Spa' adventures to have concluded, but not so fast there assumptative reader - I think it's acceptable to make up words in a blog.  Around 9pm I headed back out to The Spa to experience some of the nightlife.  Up until then my pub experiences had been of the on-campus variety and the sight of intoxicated freshers was getting a wee bit tiring.

This is where the connections get complicated.  The only other Queen's student I know who has attended Warwick is a girl named Rebecca Legg who graduated in '06 and then did her MA in Theatre and Education here.  We have been in contact, having shared the Queens-Warwick connection, and she happened to be back in the city visiting her school friends.  She invited me out for an introduction to The Spa with her friends Rachel, Astrid, and Olli and a girl from my program named Lotte, a fellow Brit also knew the gang.  We began at the 'White Horse' which was an upscale pub. Rachel and Astrid are doing PhDs in Theatre related studies and completely like to let loose when not chained to research - they're totally in the 'know' in the department and have already invited me to future Spa events.  

We shared a few drinks there, and got to know one another better, before heading to a dance club called 'Moo'.  Anyone who happens to visit while I'm still at Warwick, which may be few as Amsterdam seems to be the attractive spot, will be taken to 'Moo'.  The combination of chill pub with hip Brit dance club made for the best night I've had in the UK thus far. Not only did the club play classic, I'm talking like classic, dance beats that everyone knows, but the atmosphere reflected the new 'modern British' image that has come to replace the tight-collar stiffness that came before. The music had a real Queen's Players kind of feel to it - completely eclectic but also the type that you know the verses to off by heart.  Sweet Home Alabama, which was a hit for the two Canadians even though it's not a song remotely connected to our nation, went largely ignored by the Brits.  I was told that it sounds too American, and thus not fun?  We closed down the bar and then Rachel and Astrid were nice enough to invite the crew back to their place where we all stayed over for the evening.

A traditional big English breakfast followed complete with pancake waffles and beans.  We watched Hollyoaks which I'm told is a popular soap opera over here.  They have this great concept where on Sundays the show runs all day and people can catch up on the events of the week (Innovative, no?  As far as soap operas can be innovative)  Observation one: while North American soap operas seem to feature middle to upper class families with sensational story lines, the British soap operas, like H.O. and Coronation Street, have more middle to lower class characters that seem much more gritty and raw.  Observation two: the whole episode was narrated in sign language by a woman in the corner of the screen.  Why don't we have this in Canada?! The narrator was equally as expressive as the characters which proved to enhance the Hollyoaks experience.  

Olli invited me to his US elections party in November.  I eagerly accepted. He reminded me that with the time difference the party would start around midnight and reach its climax around 4/5am when the ultimate decision would come.  I'm game.

Sunday was a day of reading on the Olympics as the performance of cultural identity. Fascinating.  One of the students from Singapore made a great curry dinner for some of us in the flat and then I played poker with six other guys.  I wasn't the first out by any means, but I was a bit out of my league - online poker playing on campus is popular.

A long entry but I finished four hours of class today and did two readings on Semiotics so I was energized to let you know about my weekend.

Doc's Prescription of the Day: For reading to the end of this extremely long-winded post (I feel like Joe Biden) you should reward yourself with one gold star.  Now I know this star may not give you any immediate satisfaction, but every time throughout your day you look down at this sign (the signifier being the gold star and the signified being the concept of accomplishment) it should provide you with some feeling of worth. How's that for semiotics - and whack medicine?

THIS IS A CHAPTER.doc

Oi, lads and lasses, I have a mobile phone over here:

Beginning with the international code :

 011 (44) 075 31 33 12 70

I don't know if that's how you divide it but I thought I would.

It's a cheap samsung, but it LOVES text messages and random calls (Mind the time difference, mind the long distance charges, and...mind the gap).

Doc's Prescription of the Day: Text or call me.

Academian Rhapsody.doc

Ups and downs this week, friends - ups and downs!  Luckily the downs have been fleeting and the ups have been more frequent so all in all the week has figured out on the positive side.  A lot of the melancholic moments were related to school.  This was a product of a full week of lectures, readings, two postgraduate receptions, two plays, two meetings, two orientation sessions, and to top it all off a four page assignment due yesterday.  When's a boy to socialize??

As much as a busy schedule forces you to focus on the task at hand, having not felt totally settled into campus life (no debit card, no post key, and no mobile) the busy workload left no time to get out and take care of these essential items.  I take comfort in the fact that the weekly schedule will be less jam packed and once I've gotten my bases covered I can really focus on setting up a routine.  Already the weekend has provided a nice breather from the 'go-go-go' of the last ten days.

The other moment of uncertainty was a little more confidence shaking, but all it took was a little perspective to put my fears to rest.  I'm told the more you continue in higher education the more frequently you encounter the paranoia of being an "academic fraud".  These moments can apparently creep up on anyone who spends an extended amount of time in the ivory towers. I'll try to describe the feeling: You sit in a classroom with a small amount of students and a renown professor in the field in which you are studying and suddenly the fear that you don't belong in this distinguished a group starts to creep in.  Not only do you begin to doubt your abilities and confidence as other students quote concepts from Hegel and Spivak, but at the root of this paranoia is the fear that you'll be "found out". Thus, it was this feeling of utter inadequacy that began to overtake me as I sat in my lecture on Thursday listening to the opinions of my intelligent peers.  The saving grace for me was an awareness that this condition is a feature of postgraduate education. I also had to remind  myself that I have been an extremely eager and willing participant thus far.  In the inevitably competitive nature of programs like this, I realized that humbleness goes a long way. I'm not the smartest student here by a long shot, but a confidence in what I do have to contribute is all I need to get me through.

One of the more memorable moments of the week, that went a long way in killing any doubts I may have had about my place here, was the studio work we did yesterday afternoon.  After a week and a half of sitting around lecture tables and contributing to discussion, we finally got on our feet and played some trust exercises and ran around a little. Those who have taken any theatre or drama courses know how tedious these exercises can sometimes be, but with a group as diverse as ours (for the majority of students English is their second language) moving from the mental to the physical really leveled the playing field and broke down a lot of barriers. The feature of the program that really excites me is the Friday classes which are spent in a studio for the majority of the day.  The afternoons are meant for students only where we'll teach each other performance practices from our own countries so I'll be able to have an introduction to performance from around the world.  I've already starting planning just what I'd like to introduce to the group, but I'll blog about that close to.

*BREAK* from the academic!

THINGS I'VE LEARNED THIS WEEK:

1. A costume or theme party is called a "fancy dress party". I asked first if everyone had to wear a dress (I wouldn't go!) and second I asked if it meant "fancy clothes" (that I can do!)  Themes are attached - we're going to plan one for our course soon.

2. V-plates = V-card.  For those of you "in the know" on this one (um...Bronwyn?) plates - like license plates on the back of a car - is such a fitting image don't you think?

3. I can't listen to Bob Sinclair's 'Love Generation' anymore. I miss everyone back home too much. It reminds me of Cuba, Bonnie Jovi, and 'doing the hustle'.

4. Double decker bus rides are expensive.  But, the feeling on the top floor is unmatched.  Why would anyone sit on the bottom?!

5. There was an advert for a band on campus called "Kill Mary".  You'd have to have been to a party at 295 Alfred at Queen's to know this, but I want to tell them that Mary is already dead. May she R.I.P.

Balancing out this fleeting academic questioning (I assure you I feel totally comfortable now) was a really great week socially with the friends in the program and new ones made along the way.  I've gone out and about five of the last eight nights, even if only for one or two pints, so I think that's more than par for the course (An eagle, in fact!)

To close this weekend post I'd like to include a small excerpt from the assignment I wrote this past week.  Why? Because the assignment was the reason I was unable to blog the past three days so I consider it also be a form of blogging, and also because it'll give those of you interested in theatre some idea of what I'm up to.  Please, it's not dreadfully boring. 

The Formal :

"Finally, it is the pairing of the thematic elements, introduced through induction and this week’s lectures, with the modalities of scholarship, curation, and creative practice that serve to link and transform the concepts from initial theoretical frameworks to creative and personal products (be it in the form of an essay, exhibit, or performance) created in our research studio and also our culminating theses. It is the fusion of these elements that allow for each student to consider their own country’s performance practices in regards to the thematics of the course but also alongside a diversity of other cultural traditions."

The Informal - 

"In addition to new theoretical concepts, the most important thing I’ve realized this week is quite simple. It’s that I’ve never been surrounded by such a diverse and interesting group of young people as the one I am lucky enough to be a part of for the next 16 months. Canada is touted as one of the most multicultural countries in the world, and it is, but it’s here where I’ve felt like the real dialogue is beginning to take place. The title of Silvija’s lecture this week was “Seeing Better”. I found this to be a fitting lens with which to view the initial weeks of the MAIPR program: the familiarity of lectures and discussions were ‘made strange’ as it were by telematic and blog hookups along with the presence of a diversity of students and faculty from a multitude of different countries. This unfamiliarity resulted in a way of “seeing better” the goals and concepts of the course, each other’s diverse performance practices, the preconceived notions with which I may have arrived, and ultimately an understanding of each other as people. It is the promise of seeing each other and ourselves even better as we progress, which excites me the most."

Doc's Prescription of the Day: If you happen to find yourself in Toronto or Paris (ahem, Emily and Viktor) check out the innovative pieces sure to be featured in 'Nuit Blanche'. Unfortunately, none of the surrounding English towns have their own NB, so I am bussing out of the city tonight and checking out the nightlife of 'Leamington Spa' with some friends.  Top of the double decker, fo sho.