Twelfth Night and Modern Art

Today I learned that the RSC Theatre here (before the 2002 refurbishment) was the first building designed by a woman in England. By a 29 year old woman. In 1927: a time when she couldn’t even vote. She also employed women to complete the design of various items. I like her: Elizabeth Scott.

I also saw lots of this:

It’s a grain of rice. Why? There is an exhibition at the theatre using rice grains as people. That sounds silly but it really works. It’s really simple. There are white bits of paper with names or types of people written on them and a performer updates the rice when necessary. It showed that there are about the same number of millionaire’s in the world as refugees. The number of billionaires in the world of which most are unmarried males… The number of millionaires in the cabinet – all bar 2, I think. It showed the population of Baghdad in 1300 to be huge but in 1900 it was less than the population of London – why, I wonder? Loads of other stuff too some relating to Shakespeare and, of course, Condoleezza Rice.

Twelfth Night is now my all time favourite Shakespeare play. If music be the food of love, play on!


Butterflies! Iguanas! Shakespeare!

I am on holiday in Stratford Upon Avon and wish I had a better camera. Anyway, having a ball and there’s free wi-fi so blogity blog.

Of course in Shakespeare’s home town the very first thing you have to do is…

Visit the Butterfly Sanctuary!!! There you must take so many photos and videos that your phone battery dies (no one tried to contact me anyway -meh).

Look at the size of his tongue*!! Not just butterflies though. I named this guy Brian – I think the heat was getting to me at this point.

He’s an Iguana. There were two of them but my phone zonked out before I could snap the other one. You’ll have to take my word for it that he was up a tree. There was a pink parakeet, the biggest goldfish I have ever seen, and this cute guy (Norman) and his family. Quails, I think.

If you go you really need to be careful where you put your feet. Not just because of Norman above but squished tropical butterfly (whilst sounding like something from a Monty Python sketch about chocolates) is not good. There were caterpillars and this inviting place too…

For some reason, I didn’t go in there. I did, however, sit for ages. It was a lovely place, if warmth and running water don’t make you need the loo. I left after Richard (another butterfly) landed on my cheek.

The evening found me heading off to the best production of a Comedy of Errors I have ever seen or heard. It was the RSC though. More Inspiring Holiday Blogs to follow (not quite a stolen term but nearly).

I realise all my pictures are called “Butterfly”…

* Proboscis, I believe.