Our girl encounters a green beast, looks for
the exit at one play and wonders if David Cameron
will be booking tickets for another

Posted on 27/04/10

Understandably we weren’t sure what to expect from Micro, the ‘physical concert’, which ‘defies classification’ (rather appropriately described by the programme). The four performers hid behind the on-stage instruments, moving them around for the first five minutes. A middle-aged woman, sitting in the front row, asked aloud if there was an interval. We could feel her pain. And no, there wasn’t an interval.

The private view of Salon Comtemporary’s third season of Best of the UK, an exhibition of work by the UK’s emerging talent, was a lot more popular. Fortunately the sun was shining, so guests spilled out onto Westbourne Grove. Like many of the gallery’s private views, there was a highly anticipated performance artist. This one was dressed as a ‘green beast’ (in a rather homemade-looking outfit) and gave shoulder massages. One of our party tried to make conversation with him during her massage, but he refused to entertain her.

A few days later we headed to the Garbstore on Kensington Park Road, for their exhibition of contemporary Japanese photography, a much smaller affair and probably better for the boys as it was held downstairs with the menswear, and Asahi beer was the drink of choice.

The 115th Anniversary Tribute of Oscar Wilde’s Arrest, held at The Cadogan Hotel, where Wilde was arrested (in room 118 for ‘gross indecency’), was equally fun for the boys and girls. There were plenty of cool auction lots – think a weekend break at L’hotel in Paris, where Oscar Wilde passed away – and raffle prizes (although we thought the dinner for two at Planet Hollywood was more of a booby prize). The highlight for us was the transvestite magician, Fay Presto, dressed like a smart old Chelsea lady. The event raised £6,415 for the Elton John AIDS Foundation.

The press preview of Posh was oversubscribed, as is often the case at Royal Court Theatre, so we were given a matinee slot, which was also packed out. It’s a brilliantly written play, whose characters are members of the Riot Club, most famed for its termly dinners, which begin with toasts and ceremony, and end with the destruction of the room they are held in. The Riot Club is based on the real-life Oxford-based Bullingdon Club, whose motto is ‘I like the sound of breaking glass’, and whose former members disturbingly include Boris Johnson and David Cameron. We left wondering if Boris and David would be brave enough to watch it…