From time to time we blog about places we have been or shows we ahve seen. Clearly (clearly) I am no expert in theatre or production, but as with most people I do know what I like and sometimes if you stumble something that is just too good not to share. Last week myself and Simon found headed to the Minories to watch the outdoor production of The Lamplighters Lament, and this could be described as just that a rare gem.
The atmosphere was set before the play had even begun with small open fires for toasting marshmallows, acoustic musicians playing in the fire light, magicians creeping out of the shadows and warming bowls of chilli con carne.
The autumn weather that I usually so love thankfully held off until after the weekend meaning it was mild enough to sit outside without shivering and you were really able to enjoy both before the performance in the gardens and during the performance.
It was the perfect choice to perform this play, the Minories folly is peaceful and picturesque by day... come the evening it is filled with shadows and emotions. On the publicity for the event it said
"On a dark October night a Victorian lamplighter sets out his rounds. He has been alone since the night he lost his wife and child to the sea. Tonight, when all the lamps are lit, a little girl will bring him a message and change his life forever..."
What was to come in the little folly was not what I expected from the publicity, it was much more moving. I do not want to tell you what the message behind the play was or give you explain how the performance was done as I hope you one day get the chance to see it. If you do, I think it is best to experience without knowing what to expect and how but to let it unfold before you in all its beauty. But I can say that at its heart it managed to be both melancholy and heart warming, that the lighting, music, acting and the venu worked together in harmony to create a beautiful evening. Watching it was well timed as with all the bad news in the world at the moment, it was an absorbing performance which somehow (despite its sadness) sent me home with a slightly different more positive perspective on the world.