If music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That was a most excellent staging of Twelfth Night. Not least the abundance of Shakespearean insults; their translations had me laughing almost until I cried. I think this remains my second favourite Shakespeare play (of the ones I’ve seen), next only to A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I have yet to experience The Storm, though. In any case, this was an evening well spent. I wish I could afford this sort of thing more often.
Love and theatre,
Winterdragon
