So Carmina Burana turns out to be almost completely baffling, god bless it, even when you have the programme open on your lap.  "Everyone goes to the pub", mine says, "and then a swan about to be eaten sings its swan song".  Then "everyone pretends to be monks".  Yes, of course. 

Patrick Stewart as MacBeth was a big hit.  Very few doldrums, a bloody ending to rival Titus Andronicus, and a terrific Lady MacBeth.  It comes to New York early next year.  See it.  It feels like a real, modern play, rather than a bunch of actors en costume standing around declaiming.

And the week ended with The Giant at the Hampstead, which I'm afraid to say I hated.  Roger Allam, a terrific actor, seemed to refuse to commit to the role of da Vinci at all, speaking his lines as if he had a cab waiting.  The rest was very poorly directed, with a shocking amount of dead air (the poor actor playing Contucci was left high and dry in his one big scene), and the erotic quotient embarrassingly handled, especially the erection of the marble tablet.  They might as well have just painted veins on it. 

Kudos to Richard Moore, though, as Old Vito.  Must be in his seventies and playing full frontal.  There's chutzpah for you.