A night at the theatre

Having attended both an art gallery opening and a soprano recital at the invitation of the Australian embassy, I was recently invited to a night at the theatre, to see acclaimed Aussie stand-up comic, Sarah Kendell, who is doing the whole London / Europe touring thang at the moment, and is, I think, presently based in the UK.

I had some difficulty finding the place, and was thankfully assisted by a kind stranger who gave me directions; it seems that if you make the effort with the language, the Romans can really be quite friendly. The delightful theatre-cum-club (whose name slips my mind at the moment) actually contains a Raphael fresco in the foyer; for the rest, think red Venetian velvet curtains, piano, bar, with a theatre in the basement.

In the foyer I met the Ambassador and his wife again, and I suppose it's not going too far to say we are now on friendly terms. I was then led by Clelia, the studio's contact, to a woman who was probably in her fifties, well-dressed in a slightly exotic sort of way, (think Morroccan jewellry etc) and quite a snazzy, cropped hair-do. "Jaya, this is Princess Nicoletta." Of course, when Clelia said the 'P' word I nearly fell over; I wish I'd been warned. We talked briefly about what I was doing etc. Then the Ambassador spotted us. "Ah Nicky, how are you?" So I was standing in a very busy foyer, between Princess Nicky and the Australian ambassador to Rome, and, feeling thoroughly out of my depth, proceeded to get slowly plastered on the free red wine.

The show was fun, and catered particularly to what was by far the biggest gathering of English-speaking expats I'd come across in Rome, with jokes about the English and the Kiwis, and some classic Aussie taking-the-mickey out of Italian stylishness etc. After the show, I met Sarah (and her charming Cambridge-educated partner, with whom I got on like a house on fire; incidentally, he was mates in college with former English cricket captain Mike Atherton, who gave him free tickets to all the home tests!). It turns out Sarah is best friends with the Sydney poetess and mover-and-shaker, Johanna Featherstone, with whom I've worked, and who I often see when I'm in Sydney. This was certainly my first 'it's a small world' experience in Rome - I agreed to return the next evening to have a drink after the show.

That night, the owner of the club, Enzo, and his son, gave the three of us a very special treat. He took us into the small salon with the piano, and the two proceeded to sing a duet in Italian, with guitar. Their voices were amazing, the harmonies spot on, full-throated ease, modulation, exhiliration. It was a love song that seemed to stress the fact that we are all water; Sarah was very moved, as we all were. 'This is my gift to you,' said Enzo to Sarah, 'for the gift that you have given to us.'

So the following weekend I returned to the club, on account of its friendly and very talented owners. This time, Enzo's wife, who seems a fair bit younger than he is, and who is a famous Roman violinist in her own right, put on a joint show for a the small, cosy audience. The videos here don't really capture the atmosphere, but it was the best I could do, given I was captivated during the best parts of the evening.