Monday, November 14, 2011

Denis Cannan

was a wonderful friend for life. For many years we have been able to find each other by phone. His voice was always the same warning humorous observation of life, even when he played in the streets of Hove in his invalid chair, pleased with the response that may result. A reader endless, full of classics, has always been strong and ironic. Captain Carvallo burst onto the London scene as a light source in a stagnant gray desert theater. It was Laurence Olivier, who was thrown, and Denis and I have worked on translations, adaptations and the scene of the opera of the beggar. But like his contemporary John Whiting, his need to write has been stifled by the lack of appreciation by the news of these new voices and unclassifiable. He was angry about everything, but always with pleasure, enjoying his humor.

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