There can perhaps be nothing more English than watching an event in the pouring rain. Considering the recent spell of excellent weather it really was bad luck that the al fresco performance of Pride and Prejudice at the National Trust's Ightham Mote should have been greeted and terminated by a storm of Biblical proportions on Saturday night. We arrived as rain swept across the lawns, tripping over our folding chairs and picnic hampers as we desparately tried to find a viewing position that didn't involve other people's umbrellas and massed ranks of hooded kagoules. I sat on a packet of wet scotch eggs, chucked a big glass of rose over the people in front and tried to keep an even temper as my chair decided to fold itself back up again and slowly sink into the grass. It was at this point that a lady thrust herself upon me and asked "Would you like to buy a raffle ticket?" I expect to hear of my membership suspension from the National Trust shortly.
But sincerest congratulations to the Chapterhouse Theatre Company for such a valiant and utterly professional attempt to give us the play for half an hour before a classic lightning strike threatened to take out the entire Bennet family. Two for one in one case as the actor playing Mr.Bennet doubled up as a very convincing D'Arcy, presumably doing very quick changes behind a convenient and very damp shrub.
Good to see you getting some culcher. I bought a "strip" of raffle tickets at a fund raising quiz night a coupla weeks ago. Having won the first prize I had the next five "re-drawn" in the interest of fairness. I think I'd have been lynched if I had grabbed the chocolates, the jigsaw puzzle and the novelty apron.
I've been soaked in college quadrangles, been bitten by insects beneath trees, and strained to hear actors' voices in parks - all in the cause of al fresco theatre. There seems to be something very English about our love of this kind of outdoor entertainment and the idea that, as Kenneth Williams said, 'you've got to suffer for your art'.
Indeed, why do we do it? Almost everybody at Ightham Mote was in a group, so I think it's a social for the audience rather than some in-depth appraisal of Jane Austen or whatever. It wasn't that cheap either.
I am a designer, writer and photographer who spends all his time looking at England, particularly buildings and the countryside. But I have a leaning towards the slightly odd and neglected, the unsung elements that make England such an interesting place to live in. I am the author and photographer of over 25 books, in particular Unmitigated England (Adelphi 2006), More from Unmitigated England (Adelphi 2007), Cross Country (Wiley 2011), The Cigarette Papers (Frances Lincoln 2012), Preposterous Erections (Frances Lincoln 2012) and English Allsorts (Adelphi 2015)
"Open this book with reverence. It is a hymn to England". Clive Aslet
Preposterous Erections
"Enchanting...delightful". The Bookseller "Cheekily named" We Love This Book
The Cigarette Papers
"Unexpectedly pleasing and engrossing...beautifully illustrated". The Bookseller
Cross Country
"Until the happy advent of Peter Ashley's Cross Country it has, ironically, been foreigners who have been best at celebrating Englishness". Christina Hardyment / The Independent
More from Unmitigated England
"Give this book to someone you know- if not everyone you know." Simon Heffer, Country Life. "When it comes to spotting the small but telling details of Englishness, Peter Ashley has no equal." Michael Prodger, Sunday Telegraph
4 comments:
Good to see you getting some culcher. I bought a "strip" of raffle tickets at a fund raising quiz night a coupla weeks ago. Having won the first prize I had the next five "re-drawn" in the interest of fairness. I think I'd have been lynched if I had grabbed the chocolates, the jigsaw puzzle and the novelty apron.
I've been soaked in college quadrangles, been bitten by insects beneath trees, and strained to hear actors' voices in parks - all in the cause of al fresco theatre. There seems to be something very English about our love of this kind of outdoor entertainment and the idea that, as Kenneth Williams said, 'you've got to suffer for your art'.
Indeed, why do we do it? Almost everybody at Ightham Mote was in a group, so I think it's a social for the audience rather than some in-depth appraisal of Jane Austen or whatever. It wasn't that cheap either.
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