Christmas

It is well known in our office that I am never at my best at Christmas. It is too expensive, I find the enforced jolly demeanour a bit tedious and age has rendered me less able to cope with the hangovers. I had a very nice time at the annual Christmas party of two of our donors last Sunday which included having to sing alongside two accomplished opera singers. The mulled wine being liberally distributed (which is in fact a warmed up punch) did nothing for my demeanour on Monday and the Christmas tree came under serious threat as I stumbled around the living room on arriving back home.

But nothing annoys me more than the "chuggers" (obsequious young charity collectors) at train stations who proliferate at this time of year. Approaching Fulham Broadway recently, I was accosted by one cheerily insincere fellow who asked for my name. "Don't worry about my name", I growled back at him. But he persisted, "Come on, what's your name?!".

"Ebenezer", came the reply, as I continued on my way.
"Have a nice Christmas" he called sarcastically after me. And I remembered I should go and see Simon Callow in his one man version of A Christmas Carol.

Hotting up

It is tradition in our office to begin worrying about the next season as Christmas approaches; once the new year has turned, the race to the first night is a quick one. We begin building in early March, a month that will see the very first OHP Spring Party, a delicious and very unique event (for a select few I am afraid - we have to raise money somehow!)

So much is going on right now. We have recently secured Wealth & Investment as our season sponsors for a further two years and we are a hair's breadth away from announcing our 2013 season which we hope will feature one of our most adventurous repertoire choices for some while. We published our first edition of our new magazine "Scenario" and are soon to put the preview edition to bed.

First, of course, there is Christmas to get out of the way and that means lots of carol concerts, visits to care homes and other such delights. One tradition that we have begun to participate in over the past few years is the house party of two of our supporters. It is a lovely affair with the best mulled wine (it includes brandy among its ingredients) and compels all attendees to join in with raucous and often well sung renditions of traditional carols, often in German, Latin and sundry other languages as well as English. Our hosts are most definitely concerned with our academic development!

Kefalonia Day two

Spent the morning in Agostolli, the capital of the island an where a cruise ship loaded with a thousand Italians had just docked. I got outta there fast on the back of a motorbike and set out for the famous Myrtos beach. I spent the afternoon in Sami. Which is on the other side of the island from Myrtos entirely but I now have a map and fully intend to post a picture of Myrtos tomorrow. The ride across the central mountains was, however, uplifting and whilst it strikes me that there is nothing totally unique about Kefalonia, it is nevertheless a beautiful island...with shit -very shit- road signs.

After lunch back in the capital, I returned to the hotel pool and found, to my glee, that the Little Greek Gits had vanished for the day. The cacophonous music was still there but less intrusive when I stuffed my lugholes with earphones and listened to I gioielli della Madonna. As I write, sitting at the pool bar after dinner and a chat on Skype with Sally and Fiora, Greek pop music has begun to emanate from the speakers so this might be a short blog.
In fact, that's it. I am off to bed with Lady Antonia Fraser (her book).

Kefalonia Day one

Leaving London was a double edged sword. Fiora and Sally were sorry to see me go and I will miss them. On the other hand it was pissing with rain and cold at 3 in the morning so sunshine was something to look forward to. The flight was uneventful other than I had the misfortune to be sat next to a large woman. Now, I don't mind sharing my seat (and she ensured I did) but did she have to fidget so incessantly - and from time to time have these weird and violent paroxysms that shook the entire row? I was a little horrified to notice she was sitting behind me on the transfer bus and I had visions of a juddering poolside. She fidgeted on the bus too, rocking my seat back and forth but I breathed a sigh of relief when she got off before me.

Kefalonia is pretty much like every other Greek island I have been too; lots of oleander, bougainvillaea and wispy pines. That's it more or less. The hotel pool, high on a mountain, has a wonderful view; a mile away is the Ionian and before that a plain of olive groves. Between the olive groves and the Ionian is the airport runway, which is not as depressing as it sounds since I quite like watching planes land and take off, especially when a few hundred metres above them.

Things of immediate concern; shit music played around the pool and a bunch of Greek kids playing on lilos. The lilos will be punctured by the morning so that is not too difficult to deal with. The music I understand is an ever present and will be something of a greater challenge. As for the kids themselves, I don't think they quite realise the danger they are in. But they will. Oh, they will. I have already taken a particularly virulent dislike to the older of the group - about sixteen - with bum fluff and a hair style so heavily adorned with gel it stays spiky even in water. He shouts and dunks the other kids. If he escapes without getting half drowned, the recipient of my specialist underwater and unseen punch in the solar plexus, I will be very surprised. It is a technique I developed for my deeply irritating younger cousins in Italy and it is lethal.

Hey ho, here we go!

Films and Harvest Festival

Today the deconstruction of the theatre begins. In six months we will be putting it back up. Oh well...

The weekend was taken up by Nomad Cinema and three films. They seemed to do very well and a whole new crowd were wowed by the spectacular "cinema" with the huge screen stood in the orchestra pit. But what a messy crowd! The wandering in and out of the auditorium took some getting used to as well. Give me an opera crowd any day of the week. Still, it was a great success - and is there a better place to watch "Cinema Paradiso"? (Not the director's cut, which upset me a bit). They had a band of Macedonian musicians playing chirpy folk music from the
Balkans which is of course the wrong side of the Adriatic for this particular film but it had moderately local flavour. Well done to the Nomad and maybe we will see them back again sometime.

After a short break, the office will be back into full flow in September with much to be settled before Christmas and the intensity of the New Year. It is a short window of opportunity to confirm the details of the next build, set budgets in stone and strike deals with sponsors and supporters. And of course there are the productions to bring to life. The next year is going to be intense with not only the 2012 season to get ready but also the future structure of the company to establish, ready for the 2013 season - the contents of which will be hopefully agreed in short order.

In the immediate future, Fantastic Mr Fox goes to Alex James's Harvest Festival in Oxfordshire. I will be sunning myself atop a Greek mountain at the time but my thoughts will be with them all!