Tripping hither, tripping thither

What a busy week I've had!

Wednesday through Saturday I had performances of Iolanthe, my latest foray into the world of Gilbert & Sullivan.  The production was set in modern times, with some clever touches.  For example, the fairies were rebellious political activists (see my photo below) whose queen had been drinking ever since she banished Iolanthe.

The modern setting meant that the peers were all dressed in their finest suits (shy of tuxedo land), which made them very easy on the eyes. :)  The March of the Peers song got new life by depicting them all getting dressed and taking the Tube to work.  Fun all around, despite the fact that the women's chorus has very little to do in this show.  It's a great one for the men instead.

Plus, you know someone is doing an amazing job when the entire cast huddles in the wings to watch a certain number.  For us, it was the nightmare song, which I think is Gilbert's funniest bit of writing because it's so relatably true about the bizarre nature of dreams.  If you haven't heard it, here's a good-ish version from YouTube where you can at least understand the words, though the guy doesn't always sing.  Doesn't hold a candle to our Lord Chancellor, naturally. :)

Saturday morning was also the day of another rowing race.  This one we kicked ass -- but sadly had to forfeit because we were a person short and had to use a non-novice.  Here's hoping for an even better result later this week!

Sunday was a day of silliness motivated by my desire to see Harry Potter on IMAX.  This meant a trip to London.  It was meant to be a group outing, but all but one backed out.  Nonetheless, fellow Tit Hall grad student Wolfgang (yes, he's from Austria) and I had a good time.  We arrived about midday and spent all afternoon (minus lunch) in the British Museum.  Here's a shot of one end of one of the Assyrian/Egyptian rooms:

It was unspeakably cool to see things that you've encountered, say, on the cover of a textbook, like the Assyrian lion hunt (see below), the Rosetta Stone, the frieze from the Parthenon, and various Anglo-Saxon torcs that have been turned up in farmers' fields (also below).

          

This entry is now becoming far too long, so I'll just say that the IMAX experience was as excellent as I hoped, and we even managed to catch the last train back to Cambridge with no problems.  It wasn't terribly cold when I biked home in the wee hours, but lo and behold it snowed sometime after that!  We had a little dusting earlier in the week, but this was slightly more convincing -- still less than an inch, though, I'm sure.  Here's a shot of my building (on the right).

Then I turned the camera about 90 degrees to the left and propped it on the bench there to take this self-portrait.  The gardens in this housing complex are really beautiful; they make me feel like I live in a country house.

Whew!  Now I just have to write up all my research notes for my supervisor...

A pondering about water

Okay, stay with me here, I have a theme, even if it's a bit random.

We had our first novice rowing race today.  It was less than ideal.  But there was some promise in the second half...and I was comforted to hear lots of stories from good, experienced rowers about their previous disastrous crashes and fails.  I also learned that if a crew wins certain key races, it's tradition to throw their cox in the river.

This got me thinking about how many celebratory traditions there are that involve dousing someone.  Think about it: win the Super Bowl or some other big football game and you throw the Gatorade/water all over the coach.  At Stanford, you're supposed to drag a birthday person into the shower, while at a couple Northwest colleges I visited back in the day, I heard it's tradition to throw them in the millrace/river.  Or there's simply throwing someone in the pool at a party.

What is so attractive about getting someone soaked?  One could make an elaborate metaphor about baptism, or say it's schadenfreude (pleasure in someone else's discomfort).  I truly don't know.  But here are some pictures from today:

Since Tit Hall's colors are black and white, and this was a dress-up race, we were dressed as Postman Pat (the cox) and his (her) black-and-white cat(s).  Apparently it's a children's show -- see here.

I was rowing at bow (the frontmost position), so I got this shot of Genna and the rest of the crew strapping in, right in front of the boathouse.

Preparations continue:

Michaelmas term racing toward the finish

For those of us who went through the quarter system, ten weeks seemed fairly short.  Well, eight weeks is ridiculously short.  I'm aware of this not because I have papers or applications due like my M.Phil colleagues.  But the extracurricular activities will soon cease for break, and it seems like they're just starting to get going.  We have our first novice rowing race on Sunday, which should be...interesting.

Before I close out Michaelmas* term, I want to see my supervisor once more, so I'll start writing something up this weekend, I hope.  I've spent the last two weeks-ish doing a lot of background reading on the history of certain scholarship, and it's amazing how you definitely recognize certain people as they crop up over and over again.  And it's nice if you can admire them a bit, like the guy who suggested that Sanskrit and a bunch of other languages might be related -- he moved to India as a colonial judge, but he was really in love with the place and eastern languages.  On the other hand, I also learned today that in 1817 it was proposed that the Taj Mahal be taken down in order to sell the marble! ... I'm speechless.

So anyway, it's been interesting, but it's about time to package what I've been looking at and give it some shape.  In the meantime, the G&S society is putting up Iolanthe next week, and I'm sure it will be delightful, though it's a little scary how some things (like costumes) haven't been talked about in weeks...

*A note on Michaelmas, with a Jane Austen reference!
As you might guess, Michaelmas (pronounced mickle-mus) is a feast day for St. Michael (and all the angels, if you choose).  There's a great explanation of it here, but basically it's one of four days that evenly divide the year and "were the four dates on which servants were hired, rents due or leases begun."  Now it makes even more sense when Mrs. Bennet says on the first page of P&P that Bingley "is to take possession [of Netherfield] before Michaelmas."  Although, come to think of it, it's a bit odd that he's taking possession before Michaelmas.  Maybe it shows how rich Bingley is, or how long the house has been vacant and needs to be rented quickly.

Snarky packaging

A quick post for your amusement.  These labels really amused me, and while I don't want to make sweeping claims about British humor, I'll just say it's fun to find these things.

First up, the label of a cheap (£5) bottle of wine I bought.  It's kind of destroyed because it went through the wash, but it is described as a "light, very gluggable red whine."  First, I've gone to a lot of wine tastings, and I'm pretty sure "gluggable" is never used for high-end products.  Second, "whine"?  Really?  And they do it twice (but not the third time)!  Finally, I can't quite make it out, but the last bit seems to say that it has "boiled sweet characters."  I'm guessing this was not written by a native speaker.

The next two are from the super-natual, not-from-concentrate orange juice I bought to fight off a little cold.  Notice the helpful advice after the *.

And this shows a certain amount of confidence in their product, I think:

Remember, remember, the 5th of November

As you may know, November 5 marks the day in 1605 when Guy Fawkes got caught guarding gunpowder that was supposed to blow up Parliament.  In celebration of this, people light bonfires just like King James did -- and blow up fireworks.  Irony, anyone?

Personally, I remember last night as a rather soggy but still fun experience.  There was a barbecue at the Trinity Hall Boathouse, which had an excellent view of the fireworks.  Unfortunately, a mild drizzle went on non-stop, which eventually became an issue -- in other words, I was soaked from the waist down by the end of the night.

It also made taking photos tough; between the BBQ smoke and the rain, I couldn't seem to focus on anything.  Here's a good one, though.  You can see a bit of the upstairs balcony and people standing on the stairs.

Here's a bit of the big finale:

Across the river from the boathouse, there is a big field, and one of those drive-up carnivals was set up there.  Blurry, rainy picture below:

A group of us trudged over, passing along the way a huge bonfire of pallets and so forth.  No salamanders we need to worry about here, eh, Stanford folks?  I think this is the first time I've ever seen a real bonfire; it was epic.

In any case, after all that I returned to the boathouse for Boat Club initiation, and when I got home I headed straight for a warm shower and snuggling into bed.