It's the sort of place you could spend a whole morning in and not realise where the time has gone.
Perhaps if Andrew and I had read this review and taken it quite seriously, we would not have been so shocked when we walked out of "The Breakfast Club" a good hour and a half after arriving.
This quaint little cafe in Soho is just far enough off the beaten path to be full of "legit brits," but close enough to the shopping Mecca known as Oxford Street that it was incredibly easy to find from the Tube station. The food was absolutely delicious (though Andrew's smoothie was questionable and the "hash browns" were actually diced potatoes), the decor was cozy, and we had an incredibly vivacious server who giggled and asked, "Are you on holiday?" when she heard our accents. That was our first clue that we had struck gold. She likes our accents! She's excited that we're Americans! This must mean that she's used to serving Brits! Score!
When we finally left, feeling ridiculously full and proud of our find, we realized the morning had disappeared and we were walking into the afternoon. With papers to write, sleep to be caught up on, and arctic wind to brave, we headed back to The Landward- home away from home. All in all? Successful morning venture.
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BREATHING IRREGULAR mixes dance and spoken word in a haunting celebration of our instinct to survive.
After catching some much needed Z's, Rainey and I made an executive decision to get out of the flat, even though we probably could have stayed in our beds for the rest of the evening. It was already 6 o'clock, so I quickly researched TimeOut London and found a very interesting dance theatre piece called "Breathing Irregular." The small blurb described it as a piece using both dance and spoken word, inspired by real-life 999 calls (999 is our 911). We were intrigued. They offered £11 student tickets. It was only a couple Tube stops away. Sign us up!
The theatre is what one would call a "fringe theatre," a small-scale theatre with a small budget and sometimes less-than-mainstream productions. Fringe is always a risk because you're never quite sure what to expect, but the payoff can be pretty spectacular.
Here's the Gate Theatre, a small hole in the wall space above the Prince Albert pub in Notting Hill Gate:
The show was compelling. The performers were so committed to their stories and their movements, especially the youngest of the group. They played different characters with ease and connected to each other in ways that gave me chills.
And now, I will pass my Macbook to Rainey, who will express her impression of the performance:
Dear Readers, welcome to my first blog experience. Hope you enjoy. First off, I'm a dancer. So when Bri approached me with the idea of seeing an impressionistic "dance" show, I was instantly intrigued, and maybe a tad bit skeptical (based on the "Sweet Charity" dance failure.. well not failure, but.. I'm tangent-ing..). The theater was up a narrow staircase which led to a lobby about the size of our lovely Landward dorm rooms.. they're lovely, really they are.. Anyway, the theater maybe held thirty people at most, so instinctively, Bri and I went right to the front (such overachievers). The lights dimmed, and what transpired for the next 45 minutes may in fact have been my favorite theater experience to date in foggy London town. I don't think I would call it a dance piece but more of an exploration through movement, which in fact proved to be the most intricate and awe-inspiring part of it. The ebb and flow of their bodies with one another far surpassed dancing as we know it today and took the viewer to a place of.. Bri's telling me to stop writing an essay. So to sum up, it was the most heartfelt and emotionally engaging piece I have seen yet, and I loved every second of it.. good plan Girlscout.. This is Los Ang.. Signing out.
Oh how I love Rain Cloud (Aka Los Ang). She's the best! 'Cept that tomorrow she's going on a day trip to Stonehenge. Dumb. But not to worry-- blog worthy adventures will be had :]
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