Tell you all my secrets

Sunday morning came way to early, but it brought with it clouds, cooler weather and just a few raindrops.  We had to checkout of the hotel before the last event was scheduled to end, but the folks at the theatre graciously let us stash our bags there while LonelyDumptruck went off to explore the town one last time and I went to my final class.

The last event was a viewing of some rare items from the archives, things like the original script of Jeeves, caricatures of Sir Alan, the first editions of several scripts and a program from a production in Poland with pictures of Ken and Barbie doing things Matel would never condone.  No, we have no idea why.

Now, I knew this part of the weekend had been moved out of the theatre because the University has just acquired Sir Alan's archives, every scrap of draft, script, correspondence, you name it, and they didn't want us slopping wine all over the letters between Sir Alan and Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber talking about reviving Jeeves, so I thought the viewing and the subsequent Q& A with Sir Alan was going to be at the University.

That was a really bad guess.  The University of York has the collection and, if I'd paid any attention, I could have figured out York was too far to go.  No, the viewing and Q& A turned out to be in the rehearsal room Sir Alan built next to his house.

We went to Sir Alan's house!!

He was terribly nice.  Every question got at least a 10 minute answer, even "How are you feeling, Alan?"  He answered that by telling us all about his creative process.  I think it says a lot about the group that someone asked that as the first question.

One of the items on display for us was the first US edition of Relatively Speaking which was rife with Americanisations like changing the line "I don't really care for this marmalade." to "Marmalade sucks."  or, as Sir Alan remembered it "This marmalade is a freak out!"  A great deal was made about that and one of the questions was about those changes and how much of a hand he had in it.  Simon offered the lady from California the next question, as a rebuttal to all the America bashing, but the guy next to me poached it.  I did get the next question, though, and I asked how it compared to working with a translator on an adaption like Dear Uncle.  The short answer was that Chevkov was lovely to work with, he didn't complain a bit.

We got a group picture with Sir Alan at the end.  He talked some about how much he enjoys helping out with/doing the sound design and how he plays all the off stage voices in his productions, so I told him about directing This Is Where We  Came In ("Oh! That's a fun one!") and casting my sound designer as Kevin on Keyboards, the robot who does all the sounds for the stories.  He thought that was very clever.

Part of the University of York acquiring the entire collection means this will be the last Unseen Ayckbourn Weekend.   Now anyone can go to the archives and see absolutely everything for themselves.  That means Simon will have to come up with a new theme for next year.

After I very reluctantly said goodbye to everyone,

 

LonelyDumptruck and I hopped on the train to go explore York. 

It was a lovely little town that managed to feel both authentically historic and like a Jolly Olde England theme park.  We walked for a while, then stopped at a little pub with a menu like a TGIFridays and the football match on all the TVs (That's not football, that's soccer!)  After beer and curries we walked up the city wall to the Richard III museum.  I wasn't expecting much, but Richard is my favorite king, so I had to drag

 

LonelyDumptruck up there.  It was pretty much what I expected, cheesy and practically homemade. 

We walked along the wall to Yorkminster.  There was a service going on, so we just walked around the entry and looked at the art there.  By then it was nearly 6:00 and they were starting to deploy the tumbleweeds.  We missed the Roman Bath museum (but caught the pub), walked through the Shambles, peeped in shop windows and generally wandered around until sunset, then we caught the train into Leeds.

It was train, bus and taxi to get to our hotel.  I wanted something very near the airport since we had a 7am flight back to Amsterdam, but the train station and the airport are on different sides of Leeds and hotel, though close to the airport, was so close to the middle of nowhere that...well, let me put it this way:  we passed a cow on our way there.

The hotel was really nice though.  It turns out I got a screaming deal.  It was part of a fairly fancy chain, the sort that had a lounge in the lobby filled with people obviously there for a convention.  It was strange to be around so many people after our little 10 room hotels everywhere else.  We got dinner in the lounge and then just went to the room to rest up for our next adventure in Amsterdam.

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I had no internet access in Scarborough, so you are getting all of these updates in one glorious lump.

 

Saturday morning I kissed

 

LonelyDumptruck goodbye and he went off to  explore the city while I went into the theatre for my own  kind of fun.

 

We started off the day with the main lecture on Simon's pet topic: unseen Ayckbourn plays.  Simon is an absolute treasure, he really made each one of us feel important and welcome, plus he has an infectious passion about the plays. 

 

The lecture focused on 10 plays in 4 categories -
the Early plays (which included Seasons, a short script about time-travel that was probably written when he was 17, and a short skit about a Monopoly token that ends up off the board and in other games, like Cluedo and chess.  Elements of that come back in his family play The Boy Who Fell Into a Book.)

 

the  Gray plays (ones which were usually written for a specific purpose, have been performed and are , but not included in the official cannon.  The example we heard from these was Dracula, a one-act about the Count visiting a farmhouse where the daughter is a werewolf.  Simon jokes that with current media trends, this one is ripe for a revival.)

 

The Withdrawn plays (4 scripts that were produced at least once but are no longer available to perform and, no, you can't read them.) The main example of these is the original version of Jeeves.  Jeeves was a famous disaster.  To hear the tales the show ran 5 1/2 hours on opening night and the orchestra walked out after 4 1/2.) 

 

and the Lost Plays (which are not "lost".  The scripts exist and can be read in the archives, they have been produced, are acknowledged as cannon, but have not been published for various reasons.  These include Simon's least favorite play, which we swore not to reveal.  It sounded like a number of participants had seen in production there years ago and it could be a viable script if Sir Alan had time to do rewrites.  We also talked about one of his family plays which has become a lost play because he was between publishing contracts when it was written.  It brought the talk full circle because it was also about time travel and, as Simon very poignantly described it, asks us to face the questions 'if you could go back in time to prevent a tragedy, would you do it?  And then, if you had to go back again and let your loved one die all over again to prevent the apocalypse, could you do it?'  I need to get that script when it sees the light of day.

 

Simon brought in four members of Dick and Lottie, the only amature Ayckbourn troupe in the UK, to perform excerpts from each of the plays discussed.  From some of the banter, I would guess they have been coming for at least a year.  They made me want to start my own  group.  Something like the Alaskan Ayckbourn Reading  Circle.

 

They realized Friday night that they had forgotten to include a tour of the theater for us new folks, so we were given the option of cutting lunch short to go on a whirlwind tour.  All of the past participants kept telling me how ths Summer School included a tour and watching them change the set.

 

Last year the Unseen Ayckbourn participants got a real treat.  Back in 2006 someone discovered a legitimately lost Ayckbourn play up in a loft.  The weekend was scheduled to end Saturday, but at the Q& A someone asked, tongue in cheek, if they could come back the following day and give the play its world-premier reading.  Sir Alan agreed and a new tradition was born.

 

Of course, no one discovered any plays this year (though Simon says they went door to door asking to check peoples' lofts) so Simon dredged up Sir Alan's only teleplay, a short script that was produced for the BBC series Masquerade back in 1974.  It aired once and has never been seen again.  The BBC told Simon the tape had been destroyed, but after we read it we were told there was a nice surprise.  The BBC is doing a documentary on Sir Alan and they somehow dredged up the master tape so we got to see it.  It turned out Simon had me read the role Lady Ayckbourn played in the film.

 

We got a short break after that.  I met up with LonelyDumptruck.  Our room was so brutally hot that we went out for a pint before dinner.  Simon very graciously arranged for LonelyDumptruck to come to the dinner at the theater.  We started out with a shot of cold soup.  I got the blue cheese in fillo, LonelyDumptruck was supposed to get a smoked haddock cake but there was a bit of plate confusion and he ended up with the same thing.  His main course was local pork and potatoes.  I got the catch of the day which was two huge pieces of fish and vegetables.  We were both supposed to get the cheese plate, but there was more plate confusion and he ended up with the crepes.

 

After dinner was the show, Ayckbourn's 75th, Neighborhood Watch.  After the show came the chatting over wine and then the slow stroll home.  But on the way we passed a lovely little pub with a large group standing outside drinking, so we stopped off for a few.  I butted into an interesting conversation and, as we chatted more, it became obvious that they worked for the theater.  Ladies and gentleman,  I had found the techies!

 

One of them invited us along to the next spot, so we stayed up far, far too late talking and having a marvelous time.

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I barely slept again last night.  I think it was the combination of the heat and being afraid that I'd failed alarm setting.  I think I was so restless I kept LonelyDumptruck up as well.  Double fail.

 

I needn't have worried, of course, it was much easier to get out of Amsterdam than it was to escape the gravitational pull of Leeds.

 

We got our train tickets to Scarborough at 11:13, but the train left at 11:11.  Luckily the trains are scheduled every hour, so we just settled in to wait.  Then the reports started.

 

Train after train was being reported as delayed or canceled.  Some mentioned signal problems, some mentioned trespassers on the tracks, and a few just left us hanging with no excuse.   My sense of direction is non-existent and geography is not my strong suit, so I kept hoping
that our train would be one of the lucky few still running on time. 

 

No such luck.  Our train was announced as running late without reason.  We sat for a while and almost hopped on the wrong train just for the chance to get moving, but finally our train came about 12:40.  When we got to Scarborough I got cleaned up and headed over to the theatre to double check what time the official meet-n-greet started.

 

Thank Zod I did.  I was sent right up to Simon the Organizer`s office.  Simon and his assistant, Jaye gave us a hero's welcome.  It seems that seconds before we walked in they had received a call saying all the trains out  of Leeds had been canceled due to cable theft!  The price of copper is so high that people are stealing wires.  Simon was telling everyone that he could get participants here from Alaska but not from York.

 

Our room is in a small guest house kind of place practically around the corner from the theater.  We are in room 10, the one at the very, very top of the stairs.  Yay  stairs. 

 

When we got to the room and I changed from shoes and socks to sandals, I got a nasty surprise.  Now, I have very loose ligaments, so I am constantly tottering and turning my ankles on uneven ground (

 

LonelyDumptruck would like to add that I wear clogs, which he thinks contributes to the situation)  Last night I fell off the curb in Amsterdam and, at, the time, I made LonelyDumptruck stop and told him that I'd actually hurt myself that time, but then I sort of forgot about it, because my feet and legs have been tender from all the walking.

 

Anyway, I got my socks off and discovered my left ankle was nicely swollen.  That didn't stop us from heading out to see the town, though.

 

My internet research pointed to a place called Mother Hubbard's, having the best fish and chips in Scarborough, but the reviews also suggested it was impossible to find and the combination created an irresistible urge to find the place....which was right on the main drag with a large, prominent sign.   Maybe the sign is invisible from cars?

 

 

LonelyDumptruck and I both got a medium order, which was about half a haddock fillet each, and I got a prawn salad since I wasn't sure if I would get the chance to eat again before the evening play.  The food didn't change our lives, but it was damn tastey.

 

Well fortified, we walked down to the South Bay, which was thick with tourist shops, arcades and families on holiday.  It was another cloudless, hot day, so we practically had to elbow our way down the boardwalk.  We found the Bolts, alleyways left over from the Middle Ages that now all seem to back kitchens, and discovered we were so close to the castle that it would be stupid not to venture up there, hurt ankle or not.

 

The castle had portions built by Henry III and King John, two of my favorite kings, so Scarborough is pretty much nerd heaven for me.  The castle was shelled during World War I, so half of the keep is ruin and rubble, but the other side is nearly intact. 

 

We looked around the castle for as long as we could, then headed down to change and to the meet-n-greet.  The group was about half people who had been to the week-long Ayckbourn events they held before his stroke (officially called Ayckbourn in the Round, but all them referred to it as Summer School) or the weekends they started last year, and about half new. I still felt like the only new person.  There was a woman from California and one from Geneva who were both jokingly pissed at me for claiming the record of traveling the furthest.

 

The Friday show was Dear Uncle, Ayckbourn's adaption of Uncle Vanya.  I'll give a review in another post, since this is late and long.  After the show, Sir Alan Ayckbourn had a little closing night party for the cast  in the hotel bar, and Simon said we all could crash as long as we were unobtrusive.  That is where I got my second hero's welcome of the night.

 

LonelyDumptruck and I were chatting with Simon when he spotted an older lady walking towards Sir Alan's table and called her over.

 

"Ghost_Light," says Simon.  "This is Heather,  Lady Ayckbourn.  Hea-"

 

"Ghost_Light!  Ghost_Light from Alaska!"  cries Lady Ayckbourn.  "I have wanted to meet Ghost_Light from Alaska!  You have such a wonderful name!"

 

I didn't get to say hello to Sir Alan that night, but I had a lot of fun chatting with his wife.

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We finally got some more snow yesterday. Just a couple inches but still, snow! Of course it is supposed to get up ro 36 degrees today, which has been the way of this winter. Butt-numbing cold for weeks, then it warms up to snow for a day or two, keeps warming up until there is a good layer of slush and then back in the deep freeze, now with extra ice! *sigh* I want a really good snowpocolypse so I can have a guilt-free snow day. Did you know I have lived in Alaska for about 15 years and I've only seen one blizzard?

I am house managing two school shows again this morning. The performance is a one-woman show about Harriet Tubman. I got to meet the actress yesterday and she is incredibly nice. I had a great crew of ushered yesterday too. They were all sitting on the benches across the lobby from my station and, when I tried to gather them up for orientation, I was met with moans of "No! You come to us! We're old!"

That is about the news here. So thrilling.

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We got up to go to breakfast at Harley's but they were still closed for the holiday weekend so Rodney, LonelyDumptruck and I adjourned to Kriner's Diner. They'd both eaten there before and had raved about it. Jdawgspi and the Boy Who Kisses Her joined us after a little while.

Rodney is moving into Jdawgspi's old, tiny apartment/house this month, so LonelyDumptruck went to help him Tetris his bed and couch into the place while I went to set up for and babysit auditions at the youth theatre. It was absolutely nuts! We got 53 people (including Geolinguist)! 53!!!

We were supposed to get together with Frank and Kamala to see True Grit when I was done, but they were feeling under the weather so it ended up being Rodney, LonelyDumptruck and I going in search of food before the movie. I think we tried 5 or 6 places but everything was either packed or closed. We finally settled on a little Mexican restaurant near the old apartment we shared with LadyMcClellan. The food was amazing, but we had to ask to sit in the resturant side instead of the bar because Rodney didn't want to listen to sports on the TVs and the girl kept trying to tell us it was full, then took us to a table in its own little section.

Halfway through the meal Rodney realized we should ask Stephanie to come to the movie with us, so we went across town to get her and still made it in time to see all the previews. I really liked True Grit. If I have seen the original, it was so long ago I have no memory of it. I do remember my parents telling me about John Wayne's Oscar speech though.

Annie Jr. got a standing ovation! Not bad for an opening night!