"SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT!!!"
These are the words shouted by someone in the Warsaw club Niebo during the Built To Spill gig at the end of June. Polish humour can be a force for good, and even the emotionless Doug Martsch bursts into a genuine smile... The concert is, of course, excellent, with just the right amount of melodies and guitar solos to keep things going. Yes, his voice is getting weaker now, and the setlist does not feature "Broken Chairs" (a crime, obviously), but when another member in the audience screams "You are my favourite Doug!", I find it difficult to disagree. Not with this version of the immortal "I Would Hurt A Fly".
Beer Station is the place in Warsaw to have a late-night political conversation about the current state of affairs across the Eastern border. Two former students took me to this Belarusian pub in Lwowska Street, and despite the godawful cocktail that almost made me lose faith in humanity (as well as in the future of this particular establishment), I found the experience strangely rewarding. It is, in the end, all about the conversations as well as a Belarusian musician named Takindang playing a charming little folk set late after dark.
Jassmine is closing for the summer and Wojtek Mazolewski's electrifying gig was just about as fine a parting gift as we could get. It was a diverse set that veered from blues to rock to jazz to soul, and while not everything worked, the musicianship was astonishing. When the audience screamed (and they screamed a lot), you felt they were screaming your guts out. Which is to say, I see why he is so beloved here, in a country that has always valued taste and a sense of wild restraint.
There are actually two Ochota theatres in Warsaw. One is called Och-Teatr and features a wonderful stage adaptation of "Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?" in its extensive programme while the other one is actually called Ochota Teatr and is more of an intimate, left-field venue. Established shortly before the Second World War, it has been active for nearly 100 years now. Since it is only a couple of minutes from the place where I live, it was only a matter of time before I got to see their take on "A Streetcar Named Desire". And it was all I ever wanted from theatre: visceral, emotional, experimental and utterly gripping (my full review is here). After all, there was always a reason why Stella's husband was of Polish descent.
Two girls are playing this irresistible literary game while sitting on the floor of an English bookstore in Puławska Street. The bookstore is called The Books (no points for originality), and the game is them picking up a random book and reading out the first and the last sentences. It is a great game, and I love hearing their laughter as I trudge through the wonderfully cramped space of my favourite bookstore in the city. There is a recent Rushdie, a forgotten Updike, a surprising Banville, and there is also your last chance ever to get into Neil Gaiman.
Afterwards, step into the underrated Arkadia Park which manages to be both opulent and somewhat reticent. Find a bench by the water, and you might just see something that nobody else can see.
