21 March. Above me the wide blue sky at the Young vic.

Less a play, more a poetry installation at the Young Vic. The narrator arrives with a whippet that falls asleep in its basket. She then goes on to recite people’s snippets of associations with the environment from  what is now a bygone age pre Silent Spring; then these snippets are repeated but in the past tense. I found it a strangely hypnotic piece but after the 45 minutes duration had had enough. The imagery was easy to relate to as a 60 year old brought up in the country; I’m not so sure the largely teenage urban audience at the Young Vic would have found it particularly easy to connect with.