There was some fairly obvious heaven and hell imagery, but that was a given. The arena is so large and the figures on the stage so miniscule as to make it hard to even follow a character let alone work out who they were meant to be.

The production is (mercifully) short at 1 hour 10 mins. Nevertheless, 10 minutes was eaten up by watching a long procession of torch wielding monks walk slowly through the audience and onto the stage. The suspense and tension was notable by it’s absence as the audience continued their pre-show banter, all be it whispered. That in itself created more of an atmosphere.

The choreography and dancing was laughably bad. At first I took this to be high camp, but came to realise that it was nothing more than ineptness as the show wore on. Stumbling attempts by the devil to lift his heavenly counterpart did nothing to alleviate this feeling. And why were they wearing stilts when they were evidently useless at walking on them. At times they looked akin to newly fledged rugby playing transvestites trying out stiletto heels for the first time.

Stage hands clearly seen rolling Fortune’s Wheel into place further helped to shatter any illusion, as did the blasts of a fire extinguisher which erupted from the darkness at the end of a particularly firework strewn scene. The fireworks were as disappointing as some ‘indoor fireworks’ I was foolishly tempted to part money for as a young lad. I felt similarly cheated this time, though the price was somewhat higher.

Flags fell off poles threatening to trip up dancers, giant forks drooped, nudity did not prevail and confusion abounded, as people who’d seen enough began to take their leave at around the half way mark. I wish I’d joined them in the bar, but optimism kept me seat bound. Although perhaps not optimism, but the kind of urge that makes you look at a crash scene on the opposite side of the motorway.

I’d understood that the poems were by and large lewd, but the the perfect opportunity for a ‘puppetry of the penis’ type of comic display was completely missed during a scene when two lovers (barely) cavorted behind an illuminated curtain. Even Terry and June would have made a more convincing go of it.

The sound system was entirely inappropriate to the size of the venue and to the nature of the music. I like to feel my bones and bowels resonate to rousing classical music. The system hardly made the hairs in my ears move, and was woolly and flabby.

I could go on, but I think you get the picture. I don’t think I’ll bother with the O2 again, let alone Carmina Burana.

(Apologies to Carl Orff, none of the theatrical nightmare was really his fault of course)

I wasn’t supposed to take this photo, and it’s the only shot I took, but it gives a tiny glimpse on what to expect if you attend a performance of The Masque of the Red Death based around Edgar Allen Poe’s short stories at the Battersea Arts Centre.

The audience enter not through the main doors, but through a side door, and are given white masks and capes to wear. Entering the inner recesses of the building through a series of curtains gives you a feel for what’s to come: dark passages filled with side doors leading into candlelit rooms where tableaux are played out, sometimes involving audience members. It’s intricately detailed, absolutely enthralling, and completely sold out now (though I have a few extra dates booked). You might be lucky enough to get a ticket on eBay, or if you’re a Wandsworth resident you could enquire about the ‘pay what you like’ tickets for Tuesday night performances. Look out for more Punchdrunk productions in the future.

Amazing light sculptures. Go soon - it’s only until February 3rd. Don’t get caught taking photos though…

I was on my way up Brick Lane the other night when I saw this, an illuminated bicycle, complete with a row of glowing birds perched on the handlebar. Philip explained that the lights were run on an inverter using a 12 volt supply (he lost me at that point), and also pointed me towards his solar panel basket lid on the back of his bike. I exclaimed “you should put this on www.instructables.com” and he told me he had 40 or so entries on there already. Anyway, it was jolly nice to meet him and to see his marvellous bike. Sorry I cut off your head Philip.

I never enter awards, so I never win any, but it’s nice to see that the Audi A5 Rhythm of Lines microsite I helped conceptualise and design with Good Technology has won a BIMA 2007 Award for best microsite!

I didn’t do this