Off on a tangent here, but I remember seeing Macbeth, live, on a beautiful summer evening in the grounds of Magdelene College in Oxford. It was magical, surrounded by people of all nationalities, gibbering away to each other, and the performance was way beyond superb. (I've seen the play approx. 20 times, and it was one of the better versions I've seen.)
The only downside of the magical evening was I'd dragged my wee Auntie with me. I love her very much, but she's the very essence of a philistine when it comes to
The Arts. She snored all the way through.
Multilingual excitement and awe, and one wee Glasgow woman snoring her head off.
Magical.