Review: Sleepova

I have somehow gained a reputation as someone who knows good theatre. Or maybe just someone who attends theatre and would therefore be best placed to recommend a new play to see. While obviously a flattering characterisation, I can’t say I’m up to speed on all the cool things happening in the capital. I’ve got my favourite theatres and I pretty much stick to them.

Which is why, when my colleague asked me to take him to see something, I figured Bush Theatre was a safe bet and got us two tickets for Sleepova, which bills itself as an exuberant celebration of life, black femininity, and friendship. It follows a year or two in the life of four schoolgirls, each of whom is dealing with personal challenges and traumas.

Spoilers ahead.

There’s Shan, trying to keep up with the usual teenage pastimes of school, friends, and boys while fighting sickle cell anaemia. There’s Rey, manipulating her white father and step-mother while herself being financially manipulated by an older “mentor”. There’s Elle, trying to come to terms with her feelings for women while living with ultra-religious Nigerian parents. And there’s Funmi, trying to make a name for herself and be noticed while coming to terms with the loss of her father.

It sounds like a lot. But the way the script tackled these subjects was more of an afterthought. The format didn’t lend itself to deep exploration of feelings. Instead, the girls laughed and joked and danced. It was certainly entertaining. And, in that way, possibly more true to life. Because despite the challenges in each young girl’s life, they almost didn’t dwell on them, with each new plot point forgotten the second the scene ended.

Reflecting on it after the show, I thought it would’ve been considerably more poignant if it had focussed on less characters with more depth, possibly first on the queer relationship forming between two of the girls, then by switching the focus to Shan, sick with sick cell anaemia, and recognising that all this time, she’d been supportive of her friends, but they’d been overestimating her health.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t conceived that way. The performance was energetic, the actresses very talented, and the script gave us a lot to discuss after. So all in all, a resounding success. And yet, I feel like it could’ve been more.

Sleepova is at Bush Theatre until April 8.

Book(s) of the Year: 17 books so far in 2023

We’re almost a quarter through the year, and I’ve just finished my 17th book. Given that I didn’t have anything too exciting planned for this weekend, I decided to record all the books I’ve read over the past few years in a Notion database. Essentially, it’s the name, title, genre, my review, and a rating out of 5 – my own personal Goodreads, if you will. It’s currently at 118 books, but I’m painfully aware there’s still quite a few missing, so I’ll be working to fill in the gaps over time.

And since I don’t have any travel stories or theatre trips to share, I figured I’d go through the first 17 books of 2023. I set myself an ever-increasing yearly goal, so I’m pleased to report that I’m ahead of last year’s 12 in April, but much like last year, it’s a combination of classic literature, business literature, and social commentary:

The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas (père)

Most of my friends, and definitely all of my family, have been raving about Alexandre Dumas’ classics my entire life. Despite that, I somehow didn’t read any of them growing up. And let me tell you, I’ve been missing out. The Count of Monte Cristo was such a wonderful read — I can’t wait to read the rest. Up next, The Three Musketeers (of course). 5/5

The Internet of Money v1-3 by Andreas Antonopoulos

Working in Bitcoin, it’s important to know the basics. My friend introduced me to this series, based on Antonopoulos’ talks, and now I think of it almost as required reading. It explains the why behind Bitcoin with such elegance. I already held bitcoin when I started reading, but now that I’ve read it, I’m DCA-ing every day. 5/5

Barefoot Britain by Anna McNuff

I really like Anna McNuff’s storytelling — I was introduced to her work last year when I read Pants of Perspective, and this year read Barefoot Britain and United States of Adventure. The great thing about her adventure stories is both her honesty, humility, and compassion — both to others and, most importantly, to herself. I loved reading about her barefoot run through Britain because she didn’t achieve what she set out to do, but she made an impact, and that’s really all any of us should aspire to. 4/5

An Unwanted Inheritance by Imogen Clark

Sometimes I see books on sale in Amazon’s Daily Kindle Deal and I give them a chance. Occasionally it works out, such as with West with Giraffes. More often, it doesn’t. An Unwanted Inheritance was the latter. I don’t know the author’s background, but her characters are exactly the type of people who are simply intolerable to be around. I don’t know whether it was intentional, but it made for difficult reading. 1/5

How to Talk to Anyone by Leil Lowdes

I guess it’s unavoidable given the author’s nationality, but somehow this book was far too American. And while I appreciated some of the points, it got a bit grating as time went on. Particularly because it recommended learning facts about everything and faking it — I think it’s much better to show genuine curiosity and learn from each other when conversing with people. 2/5

Running America by Jamie McDonald

I picked up Jaime McDonald’s books because I had a free month of the Kindle Unlimited membership and figured he’ll be just as entertaining as his partner, Anna McNuff. His style is much quicker paced and less quirky, meaning he skips over a whole bunch of detail to speed through the story. Unfortunately, that creative touch is exactly what an adventure story needs. 2/5

Adventureman: Anyone Can Be a Superhero by Jamie McDonald

Adventureman was slightly better than Running America, possibly because the whole premise seemed somehow much more insane and therefore captivating. Jaime McDonald ran 5,000 miles across Canada in aid of children’s hospitals, battling exhaustion and extreme weather along the way. 3/5

The Reading List by Sarah Nisha Adams

I enjoyed the author’s exploration of a theme dear to my heart — the fact that the right books find you at the right time. That being said, it felt like the book was trying to say too much without saying enough. Some themes were underutilised, others weren’t given due consideration. Still, there were parts that made me cry, and that’s a sure sign that the author has immense talent for bringing her characters to life. 3/5

United States of Adventure by Anna McNuff

In McNuff’s usual style, United States of Adventure was an enjoyable read. Unlike her running books, which inspire me to lace up my trainers and get out there, this one didn’t make me want to grab my bicycle. But it was still massively enjoyable — and while I won’t be going on a cycle trip across the USA anytime soon, it’s definitely put a trip to all the national parks on my bucket list. 4/5

The Garnet Bracelet by Aleksandr Kuprin

There are some stories that stay with you, forcing you to think about the message — or maybe just resonate emotionally. Kuprin’s The Garnet Bracelet was one of those, though I find myself at odds with the historical interpretation (which was, perhaps, the intended interpretation). Rather than the main character being jolted out of her “spoiled life”, as I’ve seen mentioned, I think it’s questioning whether we have a sense of responsibility to others’ perceptions of us. 5/5

Moloch by Aleksandr Kuprin

Part of the Russian school curriculum, Moloch explores the theme of progress at all cost. It was difficult reading, and I wouldn’t have enjoyed it had I been forced to read it as a child. Being older and having experience of work myself, it resonates much more strongly, especially when thinking about modernisation at the cost of human lives. 3/5

Zikora by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

I like all of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s writing, but this felt unfinished. As always, I give the author the benefit of the doubt — perhaps it was intentional. And there is a case to be made for this argument, but sometimes there’s just too much left unsaid, and so, while realistic, I wasn’t entirely sure what the message was. 3/5

Daisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Amazon has recently televised Daisy Jones & The Six with some big names, so I figured I’d read the original — only to discover that the original is far superior to the show! While it’s pop fiction, it’s nevertheless unique, innovative, and, to an extent, meaningful. I particularly like that in the novel, there is sexual tension between the two main characters, but the whole point is that it’s not acted upon — whereas in the series, it hasn’t even been a whole season and already we’ve got the characters making out. Ugh. 4/5

The Personal MBA by Josh Kaufman

A decent introduction to business studies. The great thing about The Personal MBA is that it summarises all the key lessons from an actual MBA and encourages readers to do the rest of the work themselves, providing further reading and resources. The only downside is that Kaufman spends way too much time talking about how much of a financial mistake doing an MBA is instead of getting to the meat of it. 4/5

Black Foam by Haji Jabir

Jabir’s protagonist is a chameleon, changing names and stories. The ending leads me to believe the author was inspired by the tragic tale of an Eritrean man shot down in East Jerusalem, but the heartbreaking truth is that this is a story repeating itself the world over. It was hard to connect to such a disconnected character — the “foam” rising to the top and being cast out, never accepted into the depths of anywhere he goes — and yet he was incredibly sympathetic in his struggle for survival. 4/5

Review: Seeta Patel Dance The Rite of Spring

I’ve loved Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring ever since my parents showed me Fantasia when I was a child. I loved it even more once I started learning about Russian modernism and Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes. Point is, I’m a fan. So you can imagine my excitement at hearing that Sadler’s Wells Theatre will be putting on a performance.

True, I didn’t know exactly what I was signing up for. I was too overcome with excitement to pay any mind to the fact that it was an interpretation, fused with South Indian classical dance form bharatanatyam. So when we sat down, the lights went dark, and Roopa Mahadevan began wailing in the Carnatic tradition — I was a bit surprised.

And, admittedly, I ended up preferring how Bournemouth Orchestra performed Stravinsky’s classic. But at the same time, the South Indian music was so guttural and hypnotic — it was exactly as I imagine the form of Mother Nature.

The essence of art is emotion, and conveying that emotion — whether through sound or movement — is incredibly powerful. Both the solitary dancer in the first half and the troupe performing Rite of Spring in the second transported the viewer — I was at the beginning of time itself, I was witnessing creation. I love that contemporary art still has that power.

While I can’t say I’ll be seeking out concerts of Carnatic music in the foreseeable future, I’ll continue to be inspired by this type of innovation and exploration. And since Sadler’s Wells seems to have a thing for Stravinsky, I expect this isn’t my last visit.

Travels through Portugal: Porto

As much as I try to force it, Portugal doesn’t seem to like me very much. First, my failed attempt to be a jet-setting remote worker in Faro ended with me drenched to the bone, losing my credit card, and waiting more than eight hours for a delayed flight back home. Then, our escape to the sun in Madeira resulted in my husband getting food poisoning. But maybe third time’s a charm?

We headed to Porto for a long weekend. Though there was undoubtedly the same elements of poor planning that led to children falling over on wet pavement outside the Faro airport, namely that the automatic machines were slower than manual passport control checks and buying a tram ticket was unnecessarily complex, the sun was out and we were there to enjoy.

As soon as we arrived in the centre, we grabbed lunch from one of those hipster places catering to expats and then began taking in the views. We checked out the market and the shopping streets, peeked into the Igreja Paroquial de Santo Ildefonso, and headed across the Ponte Luís I to Gaia. My favourite memory from the entire trip was resting on a bench by the Mosteiro da Serra do Pilar, listening to a street musician play the most beautiful guitar melodies.

My husband has a friend living in Porto, who was gracious enough to show us around. We had a midday glass of what promised to be vinho verde, but was actually just white wine — it lacked the lightness of its greener sibling. Still, the weather was lovely and the conversation flowed. We then made our way to a restaurant for lunch, followed by a boat tour of the six bridges.

After the boat dropped us back on the banks of the Duoro, we crossed the lower level Luís I bridge and ventured to the south side of the river. It was getting a bit chilly, so we switched to port wine and pastel de nata. We finished off the perfect first day with a wander around nighttime Porto, all glittering bright lights. I was exhausted, so I stayed at the hotel while my husband and his friend headed for a long overdue catch-up over francesinhas — a type of layered meat and cheese sandwich.

The next day, we woke up to a downpour. It was cold, wet, and miserable outside. Still, we didn’t come to Porto to sit in the hotel room, so we pulled on our rain jackets and headed for coffee. We found another hipster cafe aimed at expats — but despite the obvious commercialisation, the vibe was great. Good music, decent coffee, and delicious food. After breakfast, the weather had cleared up enough to go for a walk, so we made our way along the river all the way to the open ocean.

We decided to stop by the tram museum on our way to look at what my husband called “Porto’s answer to Battersea” — a beautiful former power plant now housing a selection of historical tramcars, starting as far back as the 19th century with horse-drawn carriages. We then grabbed a quick snack and continued on our way.

By the time we got to the lighthouse, it had started to rain, so we watched the big waves for just a bit before making our way back to the centre. We had been walking for ages, so we had something like 20km under our belt by the time we met up with Cristian’s friend. The weather grew progressively worse. Luckily, he had a car, so we had a roof over our heads as we deliberated where to next. Despite Cristian’s unfortunate last encounter with Portuguese fish, it was decided that we should taste the local delicacies.

After dinner, the weather hadn’t improved, so we toured the seaside on four wheels until we were back in the city centre and running towards a market hall. We decided to try some local beers, which, if I’m honest, weren’t much to write home about, but it was a pretty nice experience regardless. Given that the rain showed no sign of stopping, we turned in for an early night.

On our last day, the morning greeted us with dry skies and even some sunshine breaking through. We rushed to make the most of it, grabbing breakfast on the go and walking a loop from Ponte Luís I to Ponte do Freixo and back. By the time we got to the centre, we were starving and got caught in a cash-only tourist trap, resulting in a frantic dash to find a cashpoint. We then met Cristian’s friend and signed up for a tour of the Palácio da Bolsa, the former Portuguese Stock Exchange.

After ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the magnificent Arab Room, we grabbed a quick lunch and some white sangria and it was time to go. We bid our friend farewell, grabbed a cab to the airport, and made our way back to London — not without a last-minute adventure, mind you. Our tickets started beeping when scanned, and a very nervous steward asked us if we have any right to go to the UK. I guess we need to carry around our British passports now, just in case. Damn you, Brexit.

Review: The Barber of Seville

My first opera of the year! We’d booked tickets in January before the rave reviews started flooding in, so by the time February rolled around, I was very excited. It’s surprising it took me so long to look up the background of Rossini’s most famous opera, especially given its relationship with one of my favourites, Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro. 

Turns out, Beaumarchais wrote three so-called “Figaro plays” – Le Barbier de Séville, Le Mariage de Figaro, and La Mère coupable. The second Mozart turned into an opera less than ten years after publication, while apparently many tried their hand at composing operas on the theme of The Barber of Seville. Rossini’s became the most celebrated and is performed to this day, as we witnessed yesterday. 

As an aside, it’s fascinating to me how the creative process differed in the past. It seems the artistic milieu was inspired by one another and weren’t shy to borrow ideas or play around with each other’s work, whereas now it seems much more individualistic.

The Barber of Seville was very enjoyable. Perhaps this is irrelevant, given that it doesn’t pertain to the talent of either composers, but I enjoyed the plot of Le nozze di Figaro more (possibly because I knew what unfortunate fate awaited the lovely Rosina). In terms of the music, to my untrained ear, Mozart’s work is more polished, but Rossini’s is much more innovative.

Most of all, I loved listening to Aigul Akhmetshina in the role of Rosina.
The Barber of Seville is at Royal Opera House until 6 March.