On Wednesday night, I arrived at the Town Hall Theatre before 8pm. Downstairs, a gaggle of young girls¹ were queuing in the lobby for a dance performance on the main stage. This is the interactive generation, I thought to myself – people whose lives are recorded not in diaries and letters, but in SMS messages, Bebo and MySpace pages and Youtube. Upstairs in the Town Hall Studio at 8.30pm , a decidely older audience took their seats for a performance of Samuel Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape. The play is about an old man who has recorded his life on tape and, as he nears death, spends his time listening back to his recordings of earlier memories and incidents from his life. Is this the ultimate fate for anyone that records the passing of his or her life on Flickr, Facebook or on Wordpress ? Every blogger should see it.
Incidentally, the number of Beckett scholars in the audience was exactly one – no one reacted when poor old Krapp gave his last gasp – until someone up in the corner started the applause [the play is only 40 minutes long and when the lights went down, I wasn't sure if it was actually the end or there was more to come].
Well done to Fergus Cronin on a splendid performance, and to Art O’Briain, the director. Art presented his documentary film on the late Fergus Bourke to the Galway Camera Club last year which is a very moving tribute to a great Irish photographer.
¹ Now that I’m in my forties, anyone between 12 and 20 look much the same to me – very young. Soon, I’ll be ending blog posts with harumph.