Arts
NARRATOR: ‘An Audience of Oranges,’ a.k.a. ‘Critic’s Circle’ by Adult competition winner Katharine Kavanagh. Waiting in the wings the sweet triffids, potted critics, surround the scene, ready to pass judgement. The fidgety restlessness that comes from fur, feather and feet is held in awe. An awe-dience. Who will be victorious in this battle of wills and Stillness? For there, facing down his foes, the lone stone owns the stage. The rows of green, neatly trimmed and pruned, uniform and proper, rustle gently in the breeze, but maintain their composure. ‘His poise is good,’ ‘Elegant.’ Hushed, like the slow stroke of sleepy summer butterflies, the tension of this Act leaks softly through the air with the scent of oranges. ‘It can’t last,’ ‘He has to crack,’ ‘All alone out there,’ ‘And we are many,’ ‘Many,’ ‘Many,’ ‘We are populous.’ The rings would close in if they could. ‘We will stand here,’ ‘We will watch,’ ‘We will wait,’ ‘We are many,’ ‘Many,’ ‘Many,’ ‘He is one.’ ‘Our fruit has been a theatrical fixture since the days of Seneca and his orangeries in Rome,’ ‘Since the celebrated Shakespeare plied the globe with his trade,’ ‘Succulent and sweet, we are never hard, never bitter’ […]