On Tuesday I attended the Abbey Theatre (main stage) to see ‘Ulster American’ – a black, farcical comedy by David Ireland, directed by Gareth Nicholls. Continue reading Theatrical: ‘Ulster American’ and ‘In our veins’
I moved to Amsterdam in 2000, and began work in my shiny new Dutch job on Monday morning. I had never been to Amsterdam before, didn’t speak a word of Dutch, didn’t know a soul, and had nowhere to live upon arrival. On my first day of work I was introduced to my new colleagues. One of whom was a Donegal woman named Maureen. We didn’t have much to say to each other. She sat behind me and listened to her music on her Discman, while I wallowed in self-pity at my foolhardy decision to move countries on a whim. As I was brand new in my position I had no time off earned, to return home to Ireland to lick my wounds that Christmas. This weighed heavy on my soul. So much so that on December 20th I started singing an Elvis classic to myself. Continue reading My friend Maureen
There is a new chef in the canteen at my high powered, executive company in the industrial wastelands of county Dublin. His cooking is reasonable. While I’d be miffed if I was served up his dishes in a restaurant, for a canteen it is perfectly acceptable, no frills stodge – both a meat and vegetarian option. While on lunch today, discussing the merits and weak points of the various chefs who have worked here, a strange incident occurred. Continue reading A stodgy plate of confusion
I scowled at her as she boarded the bus, mentally willing her to go upstairs, or at least as far away from me, as is humanly possible on a double decker bus. Of course she couldn’t hear my internal monologue. She was too busy roaring at her friend who she had on speakerphone. Ignorant as it may be to make the conversation audible to the rest of the bus, it wasn’t quite as bad as he own voice which had the timbre of a high pitched shriek. I have no doubt that my anti-social, early morning personality may have been informing my mood this morning, but this was a real endurance test. On what planet is it acceptable to force other people to listen to both sides of an inane babble about ITune purchases. Especially when your speaking voice resembles nails on a blackboard. Continue reading Chronicles of the Wastelands: A passion for fashion
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May 23rd 2015 is a day that will forever be etched in the memory of the LGBT community in Ireland. It was the day the result of the marriage equality referendum was was announced, and 62% of our nation said that we were equal.
On 24th May 2015, Limerick woman Ann Blake received a text from her brother, asking ‘How’s the morning after the life before?’ This question became the title of the play ‘The morning after the life before’ which is currently playing at the Bewleys Cafe Theatre. Continue reading Theatrical: ‘The morning after the life before’
I have never read ‘The Country Girls’ by Edna O’Brien. This book was published in 1960, and was the debut novel by the Clare writer. Notorious upon its release for its depiction of the sexual awakening of a pair of young Irish women in catholic Ireland, it was banned by the censorship board for being a dirty, filthy book. Naturally when read through the prism of 2019, it is very tame indeed. Well the book has been adapted by the Abbey Theatre. Last night I went to see it. Continue reading Theatrical: ‘The Country Girls’
Some months ago I was doing some research on upcoming gigs for the year 2019. So far my calendar has been marked for a number of dates that are unmissable – John Grant, Villagers, Sophie Ellis Bextor. Other acts were mentally noted with a promise to reconsider closer to the event when a clearer inventory of availability and money could be taken. Continue reading Neneh Cherry – who’s looking good today, who’s looking good in every way.
December 2015 was a funny time. I’d been back in Dublin for a month, after years in Amsterdam, feeling like I’d made the biggest mistake of my life coming home. It was the dead of winter – always a miserable time. I was working in the industrial wastelands of county Dublin with my bullying colleagues Mouth-Breather and Potato-Head (not their real names); and I was flat-sharing in the leafy suburb of Castleknock with the deranged FlatEnemy who lectured me constantly about how he was going to be a millionaire. I was less than content. I remember one evening seeing a YouTube link called ‘I’ve been radicalised’ starring the artist Scottee, describing his rage at being bullied and abused for being a fat, camp gay guy. It was powerful, in the way that honesty mixed with anger tends to be. Continue reading Theatrical: ‘Fat Blokes’
‘A ticket for one please’ said I, with a devil-may-care, jaunty attitude. It was 7.25. The show was not starting until 7.45. I had oodles of time.
‘Sorry sir, I have just sold the last ticket.’
I was horrified. Not only was the show sold out, but I had been addressed as ‘Sir’ by the youth at the counter. I am not a ‘sir’. I am young, fresh, vibrant and vivacious – in my own head at least. Continue reading Theatrical: ‘140 Characters’ and ‘Dog Boy’
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