My education into the big wide world of London theater continues apace. I'm still mindful of the fact that when William Shakespeare was my age, he was actually returning to the Midlands at the end of his career. But then Bill never had the M40 or a Renault Megane, did he.
The first two months have been, in our esteemed tutors own words, something of a 'boot-camp'. Head of the course Andrew is a rare breed - an easy academic with a soft Scottish lilt who has, unlike many academics, been there and done at least most of it. He has all the T-shirts (almost literally!) and has done everything and been everywhere. We - the students - are amazed the R.S.C and the National Theatre have escaped Andrew's gentle touch. It can only be a matter of time, if Andrew decides he fancies it.
The other chief boot camp jackbooter is Julius - arguably one of the top six people in British Theatre. He's an interesting mix, is Jules, and I like him very much. He comes in for lectures once a week after he finishes his day job which at the moment is TEN No 1 theatre tours! After lectures one Thursday night he offers fellow producer-in-training Samantha and I a lift home - we're in the same direction - and he pops in to his office to pick up his phone charger. What an office! But if you're Bill Kenwright I suppose it's all tax deductible.
In stark contrast, here's my office...
A desk in our 1 bedroom flat. Although, apart from the phone, it's newer than Bill's office.
IKEA Wimbledon, we salute you.
In stark contrast, here's my office...
A desk in our 1 bedroom flat. Although, apart from the phone, it's newer than Bill's office.
IKEA Wimbledon, we salute you.
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