A few balls richer

Still just me (and a Stadtplan of Berlin) in these pictures. But don't feel bad. I have plenty to do. The U-Bahn is up again after a strike, which means less walking. And I made my big chicken move today.

Christopher Alden was staging his pie-eating contest scene at the Deutsche Oper this morning, and it wasn't quite working; other members of the production team who are more important than me were making a fuss about it, but Christopher wouldn't budge. Pretty soon it was lunchtime, which is always a mess of social politics. People make an assessment about how cool they are and choose seats accordingly (near Christopher and Roy [Rallo], not so near Christopher and Roy). Rather than saying something witless in front of someone who may have play in my future career, I generally sit with the people closer to me in age. Even among us production minions (costume designers and costume designer assistants, stage managers, stage builders and stage builder assistants) I'm on the bottom rung. I walked in off the street. But back to my move.

I sally up to Christopher and Roy with my fifth latte of the day and ask to join. (Christopher is pouring Gerolsteiner into a wine glass.) I tell him I'm worried about the staging. I don't think it reads. The audience may get lost. Perhaps he would want to experiment with [I offer my thoughts.] Christopher responds with brotherly frankness. He seems more or less convinced. I maintain coolness till lunch is over.

Back up in the Malsaal after lunch, Christopher implements my new staging plan. And, cooler than cool, I get called over from my post in the corner of the Malsaal to sit up front with Roy and Christopher as stage consultant while they reconfigure. Briefly, CLOUD NINE.

In other news, I've inexplicably started eating tomato soup, which I've hated like death since childhood.

And in more news, I've met Laura Weiss, who graciously invited me to stay with her a few days until I can FINALLY move into my Goethe-host's house. I am possibly the last person in Hyde Park to finally meet Laura, who dances in the city. Laura's apartment is literally 50 meters from an enormous church of indeterminate denomination with bells that give real meaning to the word PEAL. At 7a on 5 hours' sleep it's hallucinogenic.