More Arts than you can shake a stick at

One of the best things about living in London is the inordinate amount of art and culture available at any given moment. But the ramp-up to Christmas is especially mind-reeling as the arts world seems to go into over drive to amuse the masses. (I guess knowing that only pantos will be on offer after Christmas gives everyone an "end of the world as we know it" moment.)

First we were Swimming with Sharks, with Christian Slater; a misogynistic view of the vast Hollywood machine and although the performances were good (Thank God Slater kept his Nicholson impressions to a bare minimum) the story struck no chords and I left feeling empty.

Next we were invited to a company-sponsored event: The Magic Flute. Now although I obviously know of the Magic Flute by Mozart, I was completely unprepared and delighted by the performance put on by the African singers. Not only was the operatic story Africanized but instead of a symphonic orchestra to accompany them, they used the classic instruments of Africa to translate Mozart's works: marimbas and drums. I think it's a wonderful update of what I would consider to be a confusing opera to begin with. Unfortunately I can't post an example of the CD we got, just the picture of it. So if you ever see this anywhere downloadable on the net, give it a listen.

We had booked UB40 tickets before the summer, so it just happened that we saw them at the same time we were taking in other artistic events. Once again, I left the concert slightly deflated and disappointed that Ali Campbell (the lead singer) just seemed to come on sing his bits and then remove himself from the stage as quickly as possible. It wasn't until I read a review of the concert where they discussed the band's impending break-up that I realized why I had felt ripped off. We'd just paid 40 pounds a ticket to watch the band disintegrate onstage! Not what I was looking for in terms of nostalgia, was it?

Our next choice was an interesting one by Orest. He had read that there was a Canadian group of performers called the 7 Fingers, who were an off-shoot of Le Cirque du Soleil and it might be a fun choice for the girls since they enjoyed Cirque so much. We got to our seats by entering through a fridge on the stage where the acrobat-actors plied us with coffee and promised us apple pie at the end of the performance. It was very much a common man's version of Cirque, but hey the kids had fun and yes, we did get apple pie at the end of it!

Now I hate to class this last one as "art", but I just had to include the movie Enchanted in the list of events we went to in the pre-Christmas rush. I have a crush on that movie and think it's wonderful! I am so, so sad, yes I know...

Larysa at her new school

I thought I would spend a few moments describing Larysa's move from primary to secondary school so that it might help others who children go though the same thing.



One night I went upstairs at my regular bedtime of midnight (thinking the girls were asleep ages ago) only to find Larysa on the upstairs landing huddled over her french project with bits of material, tape, scissors and all bits of stuff all around her. I tried to get very angry with her to force her to bed, but her anguish at wanting to do the best job possible tore at my heartstrings and I sat with her until she was done and helped her clean up. The upshot was it wasn't even assigned homework, but something she just wanted to impress her French teacher with!



Every trip home from school is an exercise in psychoanalysis in trying to help Larysa negotiate the ebbs and flows of making new friends, falling out with new friends, making more new friends, trying to mediate between her new new friends and new friends. In the end, I would just get very confused and have to rely on good old Mum's hugs as a panacea for all her problems.



The added responsibilities of having to keep track of our your own schedule, getting to school and home without your Mum and not to mention keeping on top of homework is a difficult task for even the more organized individuals, but for Larysa having to remember her PE kit, her phone, lunch money, her Oyster card, full uniform, homework, homework diary, etc., etc., etc.... became the bane of my existence. I can't tell you how many times I've had to make unscheduled trips up to the school with forgotten bits and bobs for Larysa. (My worst experience was I bowed to the drama queen's demands that I hand-deliver her homework diary to her in her classroom, only to be caught by the deputy head and sent packing with my tail firmly between my legs, how embarrassing!)

I am happy to report that the phone calls are getting less ans less frantic (oh, she still forgets stuff) and she claims that now their class has worked out most of their issues they're all getting along well and she's figured out that her teachers will love her regardless of whether she does extra projects for them.

Phew! And just think I get to go through this all again with Adriana.