Morning:
9°c
I think I owe Kevin Spacey a belated apology. In 2005 I teased him mercilessly in print after he introduced an autograph flap at the Old Vic. Evidently fed up with autograph-hunters plaguing him outside the theatre, Spacey had a hatch built into the stage door through which he could reach out to sign programmes and scraps of paper from his fans after performing on stage. A tiny shelf had been attached to the inside of the door so that he could scribble his signature without being jostled by hoi polloi. Not even in the great days of the matinée idols, such as Sir John Gielgud, did they have such a contraption.
There was much tut-tutting about Spacey's delusions of grandeur and how this American boy would soon tire of the London scene and return home.
I went back to the Old Vic on Friday for the first time in four years to see Dancing at Lughnasa. Spacey is still in situ as artistic director (yah boo to his critics), his repertoire has greatly improved and the Old Vic auditorium has been transformed beyond recognition with an in-the-round stage. The Old Vic converted it to the round for the Ayckbourn trilogy, then left it for the next two productions because everyone liked it so much.
I think they should keep it as it is. It certainly works well - and must cut down the number of seats that need selling for a full house. Estelle's American Boy lyrics could have been written with Spacey in mind: "Tell the promoter we need more seats, we just sold out all the floor seats."
* Last week I attended a launch party for Chris Mullin's new diaries, A View from the Foothills, in the Jubilee Room in the House of Commons. This was an unusual party, not least because it started at 4.30pm. Was this another example of belt-tightening by publishers? As I have just given up drinking (yes, again) I thought this would be a teetotallers' paradise and the perfect way to ease myself back into non-alcoholic society. Imagine my horror on arriving to find bottle after bottle of wine laid out for our consumption. Several MPs (I shall spare their blushes) were happily glugging away. When it comes to imbibing, MPs give journalists a good run for their money.
* Boris Johnson suggests children should learn two or three poems each term. It is a commendable idea. Why not start with Valentine, by Carol Ann Duffy? Not a red rose or a satin heart/ I give you an onion/ It is a moon wrapped in brown paper./It promises light/like the careful undressing of love. If Ms Duffy is made Poet Laureate, then at least our children will be able to recite some of her verse. It would be a boon for poetry and a boon for the laureateship. If only Labour had implemented this policy when Andrew Motion was given the post in 1999.
