Theatre Season
image generated by Craiyon Cross-posted to r/Imaginary London Theatre season is not what you think it is. It is not the eleventh-hour tuning of an orchestra, now redirecting focus towards finding a footing in the score, like the high-strung entries in the Grand National being marshalled along the start line. It is not the tawdry gilt of the footlights that flakes off the moment you exit the stage and are enveloped in the darkness of the wings. It does not even mark the beginning of theatre season, but rather its October end. It is a withdrawal to carpenters workshops, where the bare bones of next year's stages, from which the entire world will be made anew, are sawn and nailed together. It is a retreat to the costume workshops of East London where poor women with pinched fingers - who arrived in the UK from Eastern Europe, and who never saw so much as a glimpse of Marie Antoinette, or touched the hem of Madame Pompadour's ballgown, or a gazed upon a Parisian street in any e...