Private Lives with Fields and Lego

 Another double bill day, this time to see the new Ai Weiwei exhibition at the Design Museum and then on to Private Lives at The Donmar.

Ai Weiwei - Making Sense

One very large room with lots going on in it, I loved the ‘fields’ on the floor, all made of various found objects. Lovely to look at and each one raising questions of their own.  Studio material, made of the remains of the porcelain sculptures smashed when Weiwei’s studio was demolished by the Chinese state, alongside the beautifully laid out porcelain balls that turned out to be ancient cannon balls, and then the porcelain teapot spouts in their thousands, all broken off during or after the manufacturing process for being imperfect.  They all say something about destruction but have been made into something beautiful instead. 

I liked the Lego reinterpretation of Monet’s Waterlillies too, each single block a pixel in the field of colour, and with the entrance to the hideaway used by Weiwei and his father to avoid persecution.  And then the moving stamp memorial of the 5,197 children who died in an earthquake in 2008.  The playfulness with materials was good too. Loved the glass helmet ...and the very realistic foam made out of marble made me laugh. 

There was so much here I can’t possibly capture it all but all of it interesting and actually I came out a bit inspired.

Private Lives

Well this was a bit of a strange mix.   The opening act was pretty traditional, although Stephen Mangan’s Elliot already seems a bitter man, but the second act was a much bleaker experience than I had anticipated.  The play and language was the same, and there were laughs but in this production the violence and toxicity of the relationship between Elliot and Rachel is laid bare. Elliot in particular is played by Mangan without the usual suave charm and Rachael Stirling isn’t playing a Beatrice to Benedick either.  This meant we were left with something that laid out the underlying brutality* of this relationship. 

The interval had a great duet from the musicians, including their own little spat.  And then the final act was actually quite a bit lighter, much more a comedy of manners with some great little comic pieces from Mangan and Stirling, with a distinct change in tone. Both are impressive actors and so I think if they wanted this to be light or whip-smart, throughout that would have happened. And equally Sybil (Laura Carmichael)  and Victor (Sargon Yelda) who are so cleverly played to be the essence of insipidity in the first half become much more engaging in the final scenes. 

So, is this supposed to be an observation about the way that relationship toxicity is hidden away whenever anyone else is there to see,  only to rage out again when seemingly unobserved?   Or is the play just creaking a bit, with the inconsistencies showing to a modern eye?    An interesting evening anyway. 

*not sure brutality is the right word actually, but can't find the right one at the moment