Say No More

It is hard to say that there can be any thing more that you can talk about English / British / London theatres (as a blackhole generated by accomplices), or not even theatres but all this gimmicking, loosened, riddled, intangible idea of expression and representation and pursuit and celebration, when they are not talking about anything but only talking about "talking about" things. Even this saying, this very writing that you are reading, I am afraid has fallen into it as well. No more, no more.

The photo above was taken at a free exhibition at National Theatre, London, which is, from how I look at it, showcasing the success of NT in reproducing greek tragedies on modern (reimagined) settings and by doing so achieving a contemporary reflection on current discourses. In the absolute presence of this humongous redness in the background, being silent is inevitably being cynical, or vice versa.

Stagnant. Lifeless. (...)less. Reference - photocopy. Hence, the faces, how they look and look like, that seriousness is smirking. Antigone.

P.S. for reasons implied above and FINANCIALLY, this would be the last post of this so called blog. Thank you, for ever paying any kind of attention to here. I wish you fly as you have already been doing but not noticing.

有诗曰：

冯河放歌歌不远，高阁谈戏戏成眠。重楼普奏广和曲，淡笔轻书一眼前。