After a few days of only semi-failure during my Japanese lessons, today I returned to something approaching my best work. Proclaiming with certainty that I had been to ‘sports’ to go shopping twice during the past week, I was helpfully informed by the rest of the class that I had in fact gone to the supermarket. After reliving said visit I then paid a trip to my own personal hell, which looks remarkably like the inside of a Japanese language classroom.
I had been given a free ticket to see ‘Chekov?!’ at the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Space in Ikebukuro this evening, and armed only with the knowledge that it was a play about Chekov and that it was entirely in Japanese, I didn’t hold much hope for an evening of enlightenment. It turned out that I needn’t have worried, as 80% of the play was without words, and of that remaining 20% I actually got the gist of about half of it. The play was more a realising of Chekov’s stories, told using music and physical theatre with some really striking scenery, and some of the best lightening that I have ever seen in a theatrical production. My one complaint was that I was crammed into a seat like an adverb in a sixth former’s English Essay, but the enjoyment of the evening was definitely worth the loss of my lower back for the next week or two.