The Sex Pistols - Punk, subversion and refusing to turn a blind eye.

Last night, I watched the documentary 'Never Mind The Baubles: Xmas '77 with the Sex Pistols', which was broadcast on BBC4 on Boxing Day.  It was directed by Julien Temple who was also responsible for the films 'The Great Rock and Roll Swindle' and 'The Filth and the Fury', both focusing on the rise and disintegration of the Sex Pistols.  I could give you a potted biography of the band but if you made it beyond the title to this blog, you already have some idea of the importance of this band.  Whether you like or hate them, they still resonate within the UK culture and are one of the more influential bands.  The documentary focusing on Christmas Day in 1977 where the band holed up in a Huddersfield nightclub all day, performing a live set and helping to host a party for the children of striking firemen in the afternoon and in the evening, performing a live set for the adults was fascinating and helped to reveal a more sentimental side to the band.  Now the live footage in this documentary of the Ivanhoe's gigs and the afternoon party are something else.  Seeing John Lydon (Johnny Rotten) cutting up cake for the kids and seeing the kids pogoing to songs such as 'Bodies' (the lyrics slightly changed to make them a little less aggressive.  Having said that, the irony of singing a song about abortion to a group of kids cannot be escaped).  John Lydon's comment that children understood the music of the Sex Pistols was quite revealing.  He is right, the energy of the music is infectious and if you consider the context in which the songs were performed and released, the importance of the band cannot be underestimated.

The 70s were not the best of times for anyone.  Strikes were the prevalent feature of day to day like in the United Kingdom.  The fireman's strike was one of many long running strikes during a decade that also saw the gravediggers, refuse collectors and miners on strike over pay.  The fact that the Punk movement popped up in the mid 70s was in many respects, a release for the pent up frustrations that had been bubbling under the surface.  The fact that the movement seeped into fashion, youth culture, music and literature could be seen as a necessary scream against a society and Government that had lost touch with the people it purported to support.  The fact that the movement also helped to create a sense of equality between formerly disparate groups should also not be overlooked.  The movement was a celebration of difference, diffidence and innovation.  Like every thing else, it should not be seen in isolation as the Punk ethic was apparent in the USA, particularly within the music scene.  The likes of the Ramones, Blondie and Patti Smith were channelling equally potent energies of apathy and rage.  It also surfaced around Europe.  Of course, as is the case with many sub-cultural groups, it was absorbed into the mainstream within a comparatively short time frame.  The original subversive basis of the movement rendered as meaningful as a stick of chewing gum to be sold.  Having said that particularly thanks to the bands that continued to appear throughout the 70s, the bad decisions made by the Government of the time and the effects that they were having on the general populace continued to be highlighted.

Back to the Sex Pistols, I feel that their music is still relevant and I long for the emergence of a new cultural movement to counterbalance the apathy that pervades the UK culture.  In an age of 'we can make you famous' TV talent shows, high unemployment rates, no pay rises and a coalition Government that is so out of touch with the voting public and its opinions, surely something has to give?  Let's hope it happens soon or else let's make it happen!

Barry Watt - 29th December 2013.

Afterword

'Never Mind The Baubles: Xmas '77 with the Sex Pistols' is available on BBC iPlayer until 2nd January and is well worth a watch.

The Sex Pistols' seminal album, 'Never Mind The Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols' is available from Virgin Records.  Upon this gem of an album, you will encounter the aforementioned 'Bodies' and may leave your inhibitions at the door.

                                                                                                                         BW                    

'American Psycho' - Living for Today, Dying for Tomorrow.

On Friday night, I went to see 'American Psycho' at the Almeida Theatre.  I went along with high expectations and left largely satisfied.  Patrick Bateman remains one of the truly iconic literary figures.  A cultural icon for a generation bereft of meaning and anxious for the reflective details of a polished chrome surface or large glass table to fill in the gaps of living.

I read the novel, 'American Psycho' years ago and since then, I have read the rest of Bret Easton Ellis' work.  He has a unique voice.  He captures the madness of our age, the 'buy now, pay later' philosophy that permeates the lives of the under 40s.  His novels are permeated with characters who can be understood but not liked.  In 'American Psycho', the reader is confronted by vapid smiles, possession hungry creatures, anxious for their next expensive meal in the current trendy restaurant, mistaken identities and a unique range of business cards.  Patrick Bateman is no better or worse than any of the other twenty something investment bankers who populate the novel.  If anything, his response is the most honest to the apathetic accumulators who dance repeatedly to the same old tune who have sex simply to remind themselves that they still live and breathe.  Love is a joke to be sold or represented in a three minute single.  Attention spans are limited.  Lives more profitably abused than celebrated.  Dancing around white lines, shooting up to break down the boundaries of diffidence.

The film of 'American Psycho' by Mary Harron felt oddly lacking the first time I saw it in the cinema.  A very sanitised adaptation of the novel.  The casting of Christian Bale was an inspired choice and despite such over-the-top sequences as Bateman running around with a chainsaw, in retrospect, it still warrants a watch.  It captures the essential truth of the novel.  The horror is in the lifestyle choices and the fantasies that they engender.  I have vague recollections that the ending although slightly different to the end of the novel succeeds in making the point, if it didn't happen, it soon could.  'This is not an exit' is one of the most desultory lines in any cultural product.

Since my exposure to the novel and film of 'American Psycho' and also to Bret Easton Ellis' other works, I have met the author twice at talks/signings at the Southbank Centre in London.  During the Q and As after the talks, the author has had to field the usual questions regarding the so-called 'misogyny' in 'American Psycho'.  He wisely rebuffs such accusations.  In defence of Bret Easton Ellis, his characters are by their nature regularly superficial, unfeeling and driven by base instincts.  I have never felt that he treats his female characters any worse than his male ones.  They are not gentle, unrealistic, sentimentalists, they are archetypes of a vicious world where tearing apart small businesses in order to allow large companies to flourish and grow is part and parcel of everyday life.  Mergers and acquisitions are not coital, they regularly result in destruction.  Another thing that I noticed at one of the talks/signings was the entourage that Mr Ellis had.  At one point, a slightly highly strung lady squealed rather loudly about how much longer the signing was going to take.  Bret Easton Ellis as he has pointed out is part of the culture he seeks to dissect.  He lives the life of a wealthy decadent but with one difference, he addresses the problems that this causes him.  He does it through his writing.

The musical of 'American Psycho' at the Almeida Theatre is directed by Rupert Goold.  It is a revelation.  Its success and failings return to one question, do you like Patrick Bateman and if so, do you feel that he can be saved?  The novel and film can be interpreted in any number of ways, although the novel certainly does not want you to walk away with a warm sentimental feeling.  If the murders have not happened, they soon could and that's the scariest thought of all.  The film implies the same.  The musical achieves a similar effect but in a way that left me feeling even more empathetic towards Patrick Bateman's character.  He marries if only in a dream and his choice of bride will ruin him.  Marriage without love will ruin Bateman and the body parts will amass because of this fact.  It will be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

One of the strong points of this production of 'American Psycho' is the mise-en-scene.  The stark clinical minimalism of an 80s apartment with videos lining the bookcases rather than books and one expensive work of art leaning to one side of the stage being one constantly used set.  Bateman's apartment is a metaphor for the fragmentary life he leads.  He doesn't need any objects with sentimental connections.  He is constantly out at nightclubs, restaurants and at work.  Lighting is used expressively to complete the concept created by the sets.  At points in the production where Bateman's thoughts become particularly murderous, projections to the side and back of the stage show childish images and more horrific sketched images.

The music is a combination of new songs with an 80s feel, synthesiser heavy and also songs from the same period performed by the cast, 'Don't You Want Me' being particularly impressive.  As is the case with many musicals, lyrical or musical motifs repeat throughout this production.  The first song called 'Clean' introduces Patrick Bateman, in a similar manner to how Bale appears in the film.  Remember the eye mask as Christian Bale as Bateman comes out of the shower explaining his cleaning routine.  The whole concept of 'cleanliness' as a complete rebuttal of anything impure or affecting within this musical becomes devastating.  Patrick Bateman even has a slightly sympathetic side to his character possibly because he is played by Matt Smith and some of the lyrics of the songs.  From my memories of the novel, Patrick Bateman's relationship with his secretary, Jean does not hold the seeds to his salvation that this musical tries to develop.  It's curious how musicals need the simplicity of a love story or potential love story to hold the more unsavoury aspects of their narratives together.  The Patrick Bateman of this production is therefore ultimately a tragic 'Everyman' figure. 

To close, the characters, narrative and style of this musical remain close to the original novel, even where the narrative slightly veers towards the optimistic.  It deserves to be more widely seen.  A West End transfer should happen in the New Year.  It is time for the West End to start to celebrate new productions.  'This is not an exit'.

Barry Watt - 22nd December 2013.

Afterword

'American Psycho' is currently on at the Almeida Theatre but other than Day Seats and Returns, it is sold out until the end of the season.

http://www.almeida.co.uk/event/americanpsycho

The novel of 'American Psycho' by Bret Easton Ellis is a cheery little read for those of us slightly jaded by a diet of superficiality and vacant smiles.  It is currently published by Picador.  The line 'This is not an exit' is copyrighted to Bret Easton Ellis and appears in 'American Psycho'.

The film of 'American Psycho' by Mary Harron was released in 2000 and is available on DVD.  It works up to a point as a film.

'Don't You Want Me' is copyright to the Human League and remains one of the most iconic 80s songs.

                                                                                                                                         BW

                        

'Saving Mr. Banks' - Just a spoonful of substance helps the reality go down.

I went to see 'Saving Mr. Banks' at the Barbican today and I was emotionally violated by a film that touched every one of my feelings.  I enjoyed the sensation at the time, although upon leaving the cinema and discussing a documentary that was on one of the BBC channels last night about P.L. Travers with my Mum (that I missed and will watch later), my view of the film may have slightly changed.

Let's start at the beginning, the film is a fictional account of the relationship between the author of 'Mary Poppins', P.L. Travers and Walt Disney.  The relationship was a business based transaction as Walt Disney spent more than twenty years to get P.L. Travers to sell her film rights to the novel of 'Mary Poppins' to him.  As a last ditch attempt, he invites her to Los Angeles, where Disney invites Travers to work on the script, design and general feel of the film (in a desperate attempt to get her to sell the rights to him).  The film leaps between P.L. Travers' past as a girl and her present situation as an adult seemingly affected by many unresolved issues from her past.  Emma Thompson plays the role of P.L. Travers with a subtlety and humanity that may or may not be a fair reflection of the actual author.  Tom Hanks plays the role of Walt Disney and the same statement equally applies to him.

I need to express at this point that I enjoyed this film as a fictional work.  In fact, it resonates as one of the finest films I have seen this year.  It is framed as a narrative incorporating elements from 'Mary Poppins', the image of the wind dial and the alteration of wind direction implying change yet also suggesting that this has all happened before and will continue to happen.  The film of 'Mary Poppins' uses the wind dial in the same way.  Now where this film goes into another more vital and vibrant symbolic plane is through its usage of everyday objects and colours that help to link Travers' reality as a child with her life as an adult.  For example, pears are a particularly important symbol in the film serving as a symbol of both satisfaction and failure.  Her father gives a pear to P.L. Travers' mother as a child as a token of love then later in childhood, P.L. Travers is asked by her dying father to get him pears and proceeds to drop them.  He is dead by the time she finally gets back from her pear hunting trip.  Now true or not, apparently P.L. Travers asked the film makers not to use the colour red in 'Mary Poppins'.  This ties in to the fact that P.L. Travers' father was an alcoholic who apparently died of some alcohol related disease (he is coughing up blood).  Hence, her aversion to the colour red.

In terms of the characters, one quickly understands why P.L. Travers has issues with anyone tampering with her intellectual property as 'Mary Poppins' is effectively a pure example of catharsis.  She used the novel and characters to effectively try to rewrite her past.  Mr. Banks is effectively a symbolic representation of her father who she couldn't save.  Mrs. Banks stands in for her mother, who ultimately seems to be long suffering (in reality, P.L. Travers' mother committed suicide after the death of her husband) but hard working.  Mary Poppins is the positive force for change, the film implies that the figure may have existed in P.L. Travers' life in some form or other (an Aunt?).

Now, allowing for the positives, what happens to the film when you gradually learn that events that are being presented as factual are gradually revealed through other sources to be fictional?  There's a great scene where P.L. Travers' mother asks her to look after her sisters and then wanders off to a lake to attempt suicide.  She is saved by P.L. Travers who goes into the water after her.  Also P.L. Travers as an adult remains a total enigma in many respects.  Her character as suggested by this film is entirely informed by her childhood.  Her love life is overlooked.  Essentially, she is a little girl.  Now Walt Disney also remains merely a two dimensional character.  The fact that the Disney company were involved in this film may have slightly skewered the focus of this work.  He comes across as being a genuinely nice guy, driven, slightly egotistical (he has pre-signed autographs in a cigarette case that he gives to people who ask for his autograph) but somehow, the photos at the end of the film reveal more about Disney than this film can.  He deserves a more objective film, which will not be produced by Disney.  I like this film up until the point that you step back and ask the question, how much of this is real?  In many respects, I throw the same statement at 'Philomena' too.  The ultimate divergence from reality apparently occurs at the end of the film when P.L. Travers attends the film premiere in Los Angeles of 'Mary Poppins'.  She is shown to be deeply moved by the film in places, on account of its parallels with her own life but in reality, apparently she was crying owing to her belief that Disney had 'produced a film that was all fantasy and no magic'. (Please see my link  to the article on 'Mary Poppins' that appeared in 'The Sunday Times' on 27th October 2013 in the Afterword to this blog entry).

My final thought, should you discard the truth and embrace a very entertaining Disney film or feel slightly sordid having seen a confectionery created with the express intention of deceiving to the same extent that it illuminates?  The decision is yours...  It's not pretending to be a documentary but real people are being distorted.  It's a good film and that may be the only truth that matters.  Perhaps?

Barry Watt - 1st December 2013.

Afterword

'Saving Mr. Banks' is out in all good U.K. cinemas at the moment.  It's a co-production between Walt Disney Pictures, Essential Films and BBC Films.

'Mary Poppins' was written by P.L. Travers and was the first of six books featuring the character.  Her adventures can be found in various editions including those produced by Harper Collins.

'Mary Poppins' - The film was released in 1964 and stars Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke.  A Walt Disney production.  Well worth seeing.

The 'Sunday Times' article is reproduced on the following website.  It is copyright to the 'Sunday Times' where it first appeared on 27th October 2013. 
http://dancelines.com.au/disney-added-spoonful-saccharine-mary-poppins/
Valerie Lawson's Dancelines is copyright to Valerie Lawson (She owns the website reproducing this article).

                                                                                                                         BW

Bob Dylan - Hiding in plain sight.

Last night, I attended the Royal Albert Hall to see Bob Dylan.  Of all the singer/songwriters I admire, I have seen him the most often and without a doubt, predictability is something that he cannot be accused of.

Upon arrival in the auditorium, the usher was clearly anxious to reinforce the fact that cameras were not permitted.  He added that this would be a strictly enforced policy even before the concert started and sure enough, it was.  Within seconds of a couple of gentlemen sitting down, they were involved in a dialogue with the same usher over their usage of a camera.  Now, the phenomenon of not taking photos and videos at Dylan gigs is not a recent occurrence.  Having said that, looking at the lighting setup last night, if you could get a decent photo or video in those conditions, you would have to be a professional photographer.  The lighting seemed to be generated by what looked like large Anglepoise lamps and a couple of low level stage lights.  Occasionally, more extravagant lighting effects were generated but this seemed to be the result of back projection.  The old faithful 'eye' symbol that Dylan has been using for many years as a back projection was apparent for the majority of the gig.

So why would Dylan and by extension, many other artists not want their images captured for public perusal  (The Eagles are apparently even worse)?  In defence of artists, there must be nothing more disconcerting than the flash of a camera (I remember getting Anna Friel's autograph outside the stage door where she was performing 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' and as she came out the press etc literally overwhelmed her with their cameras, she seemed positively happy to simply sign an autograph for me).  Cameras are intrusive.  They block the sight lines of other audience members and disrupt the performers.  Bob Dylan is 72.  His stage performance has changed significantly over the years.  He rarely plays guitar and now regularly sits at a keyboard.  Having said that, from a performance perspective, his occasional sojourns to centre stage armed simply with a harmonica is exciting to behold.  He has the stance of a fighter (he boxes) and as he ages, he actually seems younger and happier.  He does not like his photo taken.  I like to think this has as much to do with his need to be remembered in the moment.

In terms of my concert experience last night, it was the first time that I have attended a Dylan performance with an interval but I guess, it is physically demanding pushing yourself non-stop year in year out.  Also the gig started at just after 7.30 pm, so thus it was over by 10 pm.  I respect the rationale behind an early start time.  Maybe, it is also accommodating for the audience who are ageing with Dylan?  I have been a fan for twenty one plus years.  I am nearly forty.  I heard his music for the first time in 1992.  It's an odd and uniquely thrilling sensation to share the lives of people you admire over time.  You are reminded of your own mortality but not in a negative way.  The changes in your mental and spiritual outlook influences how you regard the work produced by the artists that guide you through life.

By admiring your heroes, you learn to accept yourself.  After all, they reflect you and your needs.  You don't want to be them, you want to understand them and learn from them.  It's fascinating to realise that they need you as much as you need them.  Audiences of all artists and mediums are essential ingredients in the creative process.

So what did I learn last night?  I learnt that Dylan's current set list is more rigid than in previous years with only the odd variation in song from night to night, probably to stop him from getting bored.  I guess this gives him the opportunity to experiment with the songs' arrangements.  'Tangled Up In Blue' and 'Simple Twist Of Fate' were both subject to lyric variations.  Dylan is one of only a handful of artists who toys with his songs.  He seems to see them as pliable and indeed, it does suggest quite rightly that songs and indeed, any creative work should not be viewed as finished.  Interpretation cannot be predetermined.  The meaning of one song can change from person to person and indeed, the songwriter probably feels differently about his creations as the years go on.  Dylan focused his set list on his current album 'Tempest' and clearly he enjoys performing songs from his more recent albums.  He only played about a handful of songs from his 60s and 70s output.  I was overwhelmed as ever by 'All Along The Watchtower', which remains the most astonishing song owing to its seeming simplicity yet complexity in live performance.  It is melodically and lyrically a masterpiece and in performance is like a piece of clay that is moulded into unique forms based on the musical arrangement.  Dylan, if you want to perform a 60 minute version of this song, I will be there, salivating in the corner.  A final lesson from last night, perhaps, darkness befits a living enigma, arguably the most important living singer/songwriter.  Thanks, Bob for everything!

Barry Watt - 28th November 2013.

Afterword

Anglepoise lamps are copyright to Anglepoise. 

The Eagles are a little known American band.  Perhaps, best known for their 'Hotel California' album which is copyrighted to Asylum Records.

'Breakfast at Tiffany's' was on the Theatre Royal Haymarket in 2009.  Very good performance from Anna Friel and a nice adaptation of the story by Truman Capote.

'Tangled Up In Blue' and 'Simple Twist Of Fate' both appear on 'Blood On The Tracks' (Columbia Records).

The album 'Tempest' is copyright to Columbia Records and is well worth a listen.

'All Along The Watchtower' first appeared on Dylan's album 'John Wesley Harding' and has been covered by pretty much everyone since.  Arguably, the most versatile song of all time.  Discuss...  ;-)

                                                                                                                                         BW       

Shunga: Sex and pleasure in Japanese Art at the British Museum - A Gilded Lily for the Discerning Adult.

Last Sunday, I attended the 'Shunga: Sex and Pleasure in Japanese Art' exhibition at the British Museum with my partner.  It was Remembrance Sunday, a little after 11am and the exhibition was reassuringly and surprisingly busy.  It was an eye-opener in every sense.

'Shunga' is used to describe a body of art works that were created in Japan between 1600 and 1900.  They are essentially erotic illustrations and paintings depicting various sexual practices.  Unlike most forms of later pornographic material, they are quite explicit.  They are also delightfully imaginative.  I also felt that they probably speak volumes about the culture that produced the works.

As I walked around the exhibition, my partner and I gazed at the various works and I was just as interested in the demographic of the visitors who had chosen this day of all days to embrace their desires and needs or those that they had overlooked as time passed.  There were people of all age groups.  I am sure that there were some children too but the acts of carnal desire etc would have meant little to them except providing some quite distinctive illustrations of their possible futures.  So perhaps, there is an argument for taking children along to erotic art exhibitions if only to point out that there is nothing obscene about sex if it is consensual and you are over the age of consent?  It also enables the parents or guardians to illustrate that the images offered in the media and indeed, by this exhibition are just that, representations of archaic acts that are simply repeated.  The other people attending the exhibition included tourists who had clearly had this exhibition recommended to them or else had simply stumbled on this exhibition, having been led to the British Museum and had some time to use up prior to their afternoon visit somewhere else.  Then there was the elderly couple of ladies who gazed at the images joking with each other.

I enjoyed the range of images on offer and the fact that they were available like many forms of explicit material discreetly and surreptitiously.  The Japanese Government of the time did not condone the art form, although it was regularly marketed as an aid for newly wed couples.  What intrigued me about the art works on offer was the range of stories depicted in these images, some suitably fantastical, woman being abducted by an Octopus and then enduring the sensation of said Mollusc performing some bizarre variation of cunnilingus on her.  Then I noted, the detail of the backgrounds of the sexual acts.  The attention to detail applied to the storage units and cooking utensils.  Then as everyone noticed, it was interesting how many of the compositions included images of maids, babies and animals looking on as the respective couples continued their acts clearly not aware or else delighted that these willing and unwilling voyeurs were there to see the balletic exertions.  One interesting fact came out of the exhibition that I feel needs to be aired.  Apparently, Chinese art of the time depicted the male and female anatomy more realistically and to size.  Japanese art from this period is about excess.  Huge penises being the order of the day.  One artwork playing up the 'fictional' penis competitions where men would measure up their members against each other.  How little has changed over time and indeed, even between cultures.

A final point, the sexual acts on offer were many and varied.  All sexual preferences were catered for.  After all, these works were often commercial and where there's a demand, there must be a supply.  Something for everyone in this closet industry. 

I recommend this exhibition, particularly if you want to explore the delights of a form of art that does not need to hide its eroticism behind dark curtains.  I can imagine school trips to this exhibition.  Okay, maybe not but if you wish to see an influential style that inspired the likes of Picasso then you could not wish for a more thrilling couple of hours in an austere setting.

Barry Watt - 16th November 2013.       

Morrissey - The Nation's Favourite Grandson.

Today, I finished reading 'Morrissey: Autobiography'.  Having finished the book, which has caused some rumblings in the world owing to the decision made by the publishers, Penguin, to release it under their 'Classics' imprint, I am left with the same feeling I had when I started, his life is in his songs.  The revelations begin and end within the bridge/verse/chorus structure, which occupy his creative mind.  In the Acknowledgements, Morrissey tellingly emphasises this point:

Whatever is sung is the case.

 

(Page 470 - 'Autobiography')

 

The Autobiography reads like a dissection of his current life, using the past to explain how he is where he is today.  What is most fruitfully revealed is a man who wants something that he only seems to get on stage.  The audience are his fuel, his meaning for being.  Everything else that matters to him is only hinted at.  Just his love of the audience, music, unwavering veganism and his love/support of animals/birds/fish shines from the pages of this tome.

 

In many respects, he remains the blank canvas onto which his listeners and audience members project their own needs and aspirations.

 

Having briefly expressed my view of the 'Autobiography', I feel it worthwhile to expand upon Morrissey's significance to me, as everyone has an opinion of Morrissey whether they like him or not.

 

I got into Morrissey in a quite haphazard way.  I remember taping a radio recording of Morrissey's Drury Lane concert in 1995 for a friend's brother and being intrigued by his vocal style and lyrics.  I remember being particularly struck by the song 'Jack the Ripper', with its moody intensity.  I remember being told that Morrissey had been the lead singer in a band called The Smiths when I stupidly heard my first Smiths' song in the Student Union bar of Greenwich University and had stated 'that guy sounds like Morrissey'. 

 

Through my growing interest in Morrissey, I purchased a fanzine called 'A Chance To Shine', where I made contact with a friend I am still in touch with today (Louise had placed an advert in the Contacts section).  I was pleased to discover that mutual tastes in music often mirror other mutual interests.  Through our friendship, she has introduced me to other types of music, particularly the band Love and Scott Walker. 

 

I finally saw Morrissey live in 1999 at the Forum in London, his set was just under eighty minutes and I seem to remember at least a couple of stage invasions.  The phenomenon of stage invasions is curiously only really apparent at Morrissey gigs.  The sight of predominantly men clambering over the security to grab, hug and touch Morrissey's hands is still a potent sight.  He regularly condones the act and only seems to edge away when the advances seem too aggressive.  I have seen other Morrissey gigs since and I was unlucky enough to have a ticket for one of the London Roundhouse gigs he didn't perform owing to illness. Indeed, one of the frustrations of being a Morrissey fan is the realisation that the chances of his cancelling a gig go up exponentially the longer the tour.  But I guess this is to be expected, as your body can only take so much.

 

The fanaticism surrounding Morrissey is scary.  There are monthly nights dedicated to Morrissey and The Smiths at The Star and Garter pub in Manchester, where only Smiths' and Morrissey music is played.  Seeing so many men dressed elegantly with freshly groomed quiffs is a surprisingly engaging sight.  Oddly enough, I have never felt the need to try consciously to look like Morrissey, although occasionally by accident, I do!  (I was once told this at a Morrissey night).

 

As I have grown up with Morrissey, I have witnessed him change from someone inspiring and possibly, an Everyman figure to someone who seems filled with hate and vengeance.  His views range from intelligent and funny to vindictive and deliberately controversial.  His musical output obviously seems to reflect this progression in some respects, although his lyrics still retain a sense of humanity when they are not steeped in a veil of self-pity.  Don't get me wrong, I believe he is entitled to explore his feelings in any form he chooses, yet if you are feeling down, certain songs will make you feel even worse.  Also there are times when I just want to hug him.

 

Reading the 'Autobiography' has left me with the same view of Morrissey, he is a great singer/songwriter, a pervasive performer on stage and possibly the most insular person off-stage.  He stated once in an interview with Jonathan Ross (if I recall correctly) that he could count his friends on one hand and he wasn't joking.  His sexuality as it always should have been is his concern.  The 'Autobiography' hints at relationships with both men and women.  The only sensation I feel upon reflecting upon this 'Autobiography' is his deep need for a child, but his own child not an adopted child as a P.R. stunt, someone he can care for unconditionally.

 

Morrissey will always be the man who got away.  I just wonder what he is escaping from.

 

                                                                          Barry Watt - 27th October 2013

 

Afterword

 

'Morrissey: Autobiography' is out now and is published by Penguin Classics.  My one quote was borrowed from the 'Acknowledgements' page on page 470.

 

'Jack The Ripper' appears on various Morrissey albums and on the single 'Certain People I Know'.  It is on the live album, 'Beethoven Was Deaf' (HMV).

 

                                                                                                                              BW

 

 

'The Last Yankee' - Clarity in the Throes of Illness.

Last night, I saw a play at the Print Room in London that reminded me why I love the theatre.  'The Last Yankee' by Arthur Miller was originally performed as a twenty minute one act play as part of a festival at the New York Ensemble Theatre in 1991.  It was subsequently expanded to a two scene play and staged in New York and London in 1993.  Thanks to my sister's play collection, I can confirm that it was staged at the Young Vic and starred Helen Burns, Peter Davison, David Healy and Margot Leicester (Zoe Wanamaker was also in the initial run of the show; she was subsequently replaced by Margot Leicester).

As the play is comprised of only two scenes, it is comparatively short but its potency still resonates twenty years after its first performances as a two scene play.  'The Last Yankee' is set in a state mental hospital in America.  Two women are being treated for depression as inpatients, whilst their partners attend when they can to visit their spouses.

My first observation of the play in its current staging was the construction of the mise-en-scene.  The audience walk around a corridor which has been constructed to resemble a hospital corridor with signs leading to the Reception area and the hospital rooms.  Also such details as a map of the institution are included on the wall to heighten the audience's understanding of the size of mental institutions.

The first scene in the play is set in a waiting room, so when the audience reaches the performance space, we are invited to sit in rows around the space which is also notable because of an occupied bed in the corner (occupied as it later transpires by a stagehand who helps to set up the next scene as though a confused patient performing elaborate cleaning rituals.  Also significantly, the occupied bed is mentioned in the original play, although the occupant remains stationary in the original 1993 productions of the play).  The first scene is a dialogue between the two male characters in the play, Leroy Hamilton and John Frick talking about their partners, once they have overcome the initial tensions that often overwhelm men in waiting areas and other social situations.  Small talk clarifying hospital procedure and reflections on the parking area leading to more profound and telling reflections of male attitudes to mental illness.  Arthur Miller successfully evokes the male tendency to rationalise and understand even those things that cannot be rationalised:

Frick. I just can't figure it out.  There's no bills; we're very well fixed; she's got a beautiful home... There's really not a trouble in the world.  Although, God knows, maybe that's the trouble...

Leroy. Oh no, I got plenty of bills and it didn't help mine.  I don't think it's how many bills you have.

Frick. What do you think it is, then?

Leroy. Don't ask me, I don't know.

                                                                                        (Scene 1, Page 4)

The focus on the male attitude towards their wives' illnesses is touching and accurate.  They cannot solve anything that doesn't have a physical basis through monetary transactions or material means.  Yes, they can pay for their wives to be treated but ultimately, they cannot step in and improve their wives' lives directly.  They can only offer support.

The second scene which breaks down into three distinct sections, one involving the two wives talking (Patricia Hamilton and Karen Frick) then Leroy and Patricia conversing followed by an ensemble section.  As the two women talk, it becomes apparent that Patricia's character is gradually reaching a state of contentment, not shared by Karen Frick.  This is suggested by a conversation when Karen seeks advice from Patricia (who she is clearly devoted to) as to where to shop for daily necessities.  Karen keeps forgetting and worries about getting things wrong. 

As Patricia states to Karen:

Patricia.... I'm wondering if you've got the wrong medication.  But I guess you'll never overdose - you vomit at the drop of a hat.  It may be your secret blessing.

                                                                                     (Scene 2, Page 18)

Patricia does not suffer from the same indecisions, having stopped her medication for twenty one days (her choice).  The audience subsequently learns that Patricia's brothers committed suicide providing a strong causal link to Patricia's depression (or maybe, that's simply my male assumption?)

The section where Leroy and Patricia explore their previous lives together and where they are now contains one of the most telling and beautifully expressive exchanges in the canon on play writing:

Patricia. There was something else you said.  About standing on line.

Leroy. On line?

Patricia. That you'll always be at the head of the line because... (Breaks off.)

Leroy. I'm the only one on it.

Patricia.... is that really true?  You do compete, don't you?  You must, at least in your mind?

Leroy. Only with myself.  We're really all on a one-person line, Pat.  I learned that in these years.

                                                                                              (Scene 2, Page 28)

The acute realisation that ultimately all of our struggles are with ourselves is the point at which progression can be made.  Prior to this, we are dependants, circling our families seeking answers and reassurances.  When we step outside of the pattern of dependency, we become more adept at exploring our own needs and feelings.  Support is necessary but not at the expense of our own feelings and values.  In many respects, this section of the play is the crux of the playwright's intent.  The primary lesson of the piece.

The subsequent section in which all of the characters are together and Karen dances, reveals the essential truth that Patricia and Leroy's marriage is ultimately more growth promoting that the Frick's relationship where Karen feels under appreciated by her husband.  John Frick's seeming embarrassment of his wife is heart wrenching as she tap dances.

'The Last Yankee' in its current incarnation at the Print Room starring Andy De La Tour as Frick, Paul Hickey as Leroy, Kika Markham as Karen and Matilda Ziegler as Patricia, perfectly realises the fluidity and beauty of Miller's prose.  The play is an ensemble piece, so highlighting individual performances would be detrimental to the audience's appreciation of the play.  It's a play about mental illness, relationships and ultimately about the force within that keeps us going.  You choose the force... Love, survival, God or something else?  It's your life.

                                                                                    (Barry Watt - 5th October 2013)

Afterword

All quotes are extracted from 'The Last Yankee' by Arthur Miller.  The play edition published by Methuen Drama in 1993.

'The Last Yankee' at the Print Room finishes tonight.  I hope that it transfers somewhere else.  It's brilliant.

                                                                                                                          B.W.

'The Bling Ring' - Like totally sick...

'The Bling Ring' (15) is director's Sofia Coppola's new film and the production credits reads like a family tree of the Coppola family.  But I state that neutrally...  Make your own mind up about the film.  It's a film based on 'true events' as documented by a 'Vanity Fair' article.  The fact that these two facts are emphasised adds an ironic touch to this film.  The film documents the activities of a group of young people dubbed 'The Bling Ring' owing to their propensity for the superficial accoutrements and accessories of a morally bankrupt generation.  Essentially, in order to obtain the celebrity lifestyle that helps them to be the 'in crowd', they steal from celebrities.  But tellingly, they steal only those items which they feel will help forward their status.  Money is stolen when it can be found but this serves to fund their escalating drug habits.

A couple of the characters including Emma Watson's character are brought up by a mother who espouses new age philosophy with her daughters.  Most notably, as they get up the mother gives them a life affirming statement to chew on, prior to sending them out into the outside world.  Amusingly, later in the film, the mother clearly obsessed with 'The Secret' by Rhonda Byrne, offers a 'vision board', which is covered with images of Angelina Jolie and the girls are asked to identify the actresses' key qualities.  They choose the superficial; Angelina Jolie's 'hot husband' and her 'hot body'.

My enduring memories of the film are the scenes of larceny and the ironic fact that the celebrity generation with its endless need to feed the public with every detail of day to day life on social media sites has left them vulnerable to attack.  Indeed, the group pretty much just slide a glass door to get into certain properties.  Also Paris Hilton apparently used to keep her key under the door mat.  You may as well just wave a sign saying 'Rob me'.  Additionally, there is one young man who is part of the group who in many respects serves as the counterpoint to the others.  He initially questions the unlawful entries and robberies then it becomes clear that the beauty of high heel shoes and clothes are as much of a lure to him as to his friends.  His repressed homosexuality is apparent for all to see but never acted on as he explores his boundaries and becomes more and more addicted to cocaine.

This is a highly successful film, tearing through the superficialities of a consumer society, so obsessed with image that it fails to perceive the damage it is causing to the touchscreen, Prada kids with their vastly reduced capacity to feel.  The music soundtrack adding to the hedonistic ride.  You leave the cinema with one extended finger raised towards the fashion industry and another finger raised in the direction of the media.  'The Bling Ring' is like totally sick...

Barry Watt - 6th July 2013

Afterword

'The Bling Ring' (15) is currently showing in most cinemas.

A link to the 'Vanity Fair' article, 'The Suspects Wore Louboutins' by Nancy Jo Sales is included below and the article is copyright to the author and to Conde Nast.

http://www.vanityfair.com/culture/features/2010/03/billionaire-girls-201003

Prada is copyright to Prada. 

'Immersive Theatre' or who were you when the lights went out?

This blog entry has been waiting in the back of my mind for ages, so to provide me with a little relief, it's time to write it.  Now, that has to be the worst opening I have ever written but all will be explained.

As an introductory digression, from memory I recall an absolutely wonderful quote from the film theorist Andre Bazin in his essay, 'What Is Cinema?':

Every new development added to the cinema must, paradoxically, take it nearer and nearer to its origins.  In short, cinema has not yet been invented!

                                                                                      (Andre Bazin - 'What Is Cinema?')

As a statement, this may seem paradoxical but if you consider that as a cultural form, the film experience has altered since it began.  For example, the introduction of sound in 1927 and the addition of 3D.  Soon, Huxley's vision of the 'Feelies' from 'Brave New World' could come into being.  Imagine feeling sensations through your chair in the cinema or at home.  So how can you offer definitive interpretations and conclusions of something that is in a perennial state of change?

Now the theatre is a similarly transient cultural form of expression.  The safe world of the audience member sitting in the auditorium watching actors performing within the proscenium arch punctured by an interval (or more or none) then off home has always been an inaccurate distillation of what is a two way interaction between the theatre group and the audience.  Admittedly, some performances involve less in the way of direct audience engagement with the cast.  So long as we cough, sigh, laugh or sigh at the appropriate moment, we have satisfied that production's needs.  Brecht, Artaud and the many other theatre practitioners who effectively came in and began to break down these preconceived notions of distance between the theatre group and audience were only perceived as 'different' and or 'extreme' because people fail to recall that Shakespeare's original audiences were far more rowdy and upfront than many later audiences.  There is a written etiquette of theatre attendance but this varies according to the venue and to be fair, given the chance I feel that the audience would prefer the chance to express how they feel about the production that they have paid to see or to become more involved in some way.

'Immersive theatre' just takes that very natural childish need to engage and to understand the world around us in a more proactive way.  But let's immediately discard the notion that 'immersive theatre' requires us to act.  Normally, just like any form of theatre, it is about observation.  I have seen and been part of productions that have broken down the perceived distance between the audience and performers but these have been in the minority.  Indeed, as a form I have objections with 'immersive theatre' precisely because the audience are not as involved as much as they could be.  As such, the productions have left me with this sense that something was missing.  Normally, I feel that the special something that is missing is a sense of plot or even structure.  Most 'immersive theatre' productions seem to be fairly free flowing and although, they do lead to an end point of types.  It is not always satisfying or fulfilling.  I go to the theatre to be stimulated on some level and if the performers are going through the clockwork motions of a wind up toy, how can I empathise with the performers and the production as a whole?

Now over the years, I have seen a variety of performances that could be defined as 'immersive theatre'.  I won't list them all here but I will list the ones that I can remember and offer my memories of them.  Trendy words that now appear on many tickets and websites associated with 'immersive theatre' are 'promenade performances' and 'site specific'.  Now, I will look at how the productions I have seen or experienced have matched those criteria and what the terms mean to me.  Also whether I felt satiated by the performances.

Office Party - Pleasance Theatre, London

This production ran for quite some time and was both a 'promenade performance' and 'site specific'.  I went with a group of people and significantly, the production used two buildings, one was the theatre and the other building was next door.  Effectively, the production was set around an office Christmas Party.  When we arrived, we were handed badges effectively dividing us into different groups including Cleaners, Accounts and Managers.  Some badges had stars on them.  I guessed what the star meant (star bearers were those members of staff who were being made redundant).  Initially, we were taken off in groups and given a little talk about the company and how it had not been that successful this year (well, that's the talk I got).  The news that I had been made redundant in the production horribly tied in with a restructuring at work, which resulted in me at risk of losing my job.  But for some reason, this did not bother me unduly within the context of this production, so I can't recall whether I had my new job at that point.  Then we played a really rubbish game of hide and seek before being led to the main theatre for the proper party.  This involved party games such as passing a balloon between your legs, short cabaret performances and moments of potential dramatic tension such as when the Manager came down thanking everyone for their services that year and those of us who had been made redundant felt inclined to retort with a well justified jeer.  Overall, my memory of the night is primarily associated with a beautiful moment towards the end of the evening when I had a dance with the fictitious Manager of the company, who had a drink problem and who stated that I had always been his favourite, I retorted, 'But you made me redundant?'

Personally, the production could have done with a little more in the way of character development.  As it was, it simply did what it said on the tin.  It was a party.  In fact, I have seen more dramatic tension at work Christmas dos than this production wished to portray.  It was fun but not essential.

The New World Order - Shoreditch Town Hall, London

From one extreme to another, whereas 'Office Party' was fun yet insubstantial, this was very well constructed.  Scarily so.  One of the few productions that has disturbed me.  It was based on a handful of Harold Pinter's short plays, the overtly political ones such as 'Mountain Language', 'One For The Road' and 'Press Conference'.  This was possibly one of the most satisfying 'site specific promenade' performances I have seen.

We entered the venue at a specific time and were groped by security.  Then divided into groups.  Bits of the plays were played out in different sections of the venue.  'Press Conference' took place in a conference room with members of the audience joined by photographers etc.  Then an interrogation took place in an official council room and members of the audience were invited to sit around the table where the authoritarian figure tore apart the poor guy sitting next to me.  As the evening progressed, we were taken all around the venue.  One play took place on a staircase between two cast members.  The nasty stuff occurred downstairs around the basement with its cold concrete walls and the audience were literally pushed around by scary police figures and various people were interrogated.  At the end of the evening, the door is opened and we are firmly directed out. 

I ended up outside the back of the venue unsure where I was and feeling very drained.  Owing to the nature of the performance, Amnesty International leaflets were handed to us before the performance started.  If Pinter had still been alive, I am sure that he would have approved of this production of his works.  Human rights violations being one of his key concerns during his life.  As an 'immersive experience', bar being tortured, it succeeded in engaging me.

Hotel Medea - Hayward Gallery, London   

The single most successful 'immersive performance' I have yet taken part in.  It started at 11.30 pm and ended at 6.40 am on the rooftop eating a breakfast with the cast members etc as the sun rose on a huge table.  I could write an essay on this production and the people who know me tire of my constant references to this.  It's structured around the Greek tragedy of Medea which you didn't and don't need to understand to appreciate this production.  Effectively, the evening broke down into three sections.  The audience were more actively involved during the first section for obvious reasons.  As the night went on, the audience involvement was less physically active.  You truly haven't lived until you have prepared a man and woman for their wedding by washing down their bodies and applying jewellery, seen another scene from three unique perspectives.  The most radical one being from a bunk bed wearing pyjamas, whilst a woman strokes your hair and reads you the story of Medea and Jason from a fairy tale.  Oh, you were also offered cocoa at this point.  Another memory involves dressing as a woman to infiltrate a special female cult and passing secret messages to other men dressed as women.  By the end of the evening, when the bodies of two dead young men are laid
out and we are invited to put teddy bears and flowers on and around the bodies and to offer our condolences to the grieving mother, Medea whilst Radiohead's 'Motion Picture Soundtrack' played in the background was one of the most emotional moments I have experienced.  This was simply brilliant and does continue to be put on in various venues internationally.

Bush Bazaar - The Bush Theatre, London

Basically, just a lot of fun...  You paid one amount to get in then paid small amounts for each of the performances you chose to watch.  Sometimes, the fees were fixed but mainly not.  The event was extremely 'site specific', in the sense that the theatre had just moved into its new location and every area was used for the production.  One event involved a woman who hoarded in one of the toilets and the audience members were spoken to as though members of the council team responsible for helping her to get rid of her possessions.  Having suffered from OCDs in the past and also aware of the emotional significance of objects, this was fascinating as she proceeded to explain the relevance of each random item.  There were many other small performance pieces too.  A group of fictional refugees performed a show about their lives in the garden area out the back and a friend and I still talk about the performance in the water tank room, which I really can't describe using the written word but it involved purifying by nymphs. 

The variety of performances on offer made this feel a truly satisfying experience, slightly tarnished by the realisation that you couldn't see everything on one visit.

The Drowned Man - A Hollywood Fable - 'Temple Studios' - Paddington, London

I attended this 'site specific promenade' performance with a friend last Sunday.  Basically, it's a converted fire station.  As the production is still running, I don't want to spoilt it too much for anyone who wants to see it.  It's alright.  Not life-changing.  It did demonstrate to me the possible flaws with 'immersive theatre' though.  Essentially, it felt like a cross between a series of Lynch films and 'Berbarian Sound Studios'.  The audience upon arrival were instructed to wear masks and to remain silent throughout the performance.  It last three hours and had staggered start times.  The cast performed several elaborate dance sequences and somewhere, there was a series of related plots that could loosely be seen as interpretations of films.  The sets were amazing.  A trailer park, Lynchian rooms with chequered floors and a woodland scene.  Outside of the performances, you could walk around.  Now my most satisfying moments came about when I simply wandered around the sets after the cast had gone.  The attention to detail was something else.  Sorry, Punchdrunk, your performance was more about style and less about content.  It was good but it good have been so much better.  I would love to have the basic concept of the performance explained to me as the climax was so anti-climatic that I left feeling, 'Is that it?'

To conclude, the enduring popularity of 'immersive theatre' seems to be connected to a childish need to play, which remains as we enter into adult life, although do not believe that 'immersive theatre' is always by its nature participatory.  Quite often, the audience is simply led by the cast through well constructed performances.  I long to see a performance where the audience determines the progression of the action.  The element of choice seems to be limited to where you want to walk around various buildings.  I guess I want to be the director of the dreams that someone else wishes me to experience.

Afterword

Andre Bazin quote is half remembered from 'The Myth Of Total Cinema' which appears in 'What Is Cinema? (Volume 1) (Page 21) (University of Calfornia Press, 2005).

'Brave New World'- Aldous Huxley (Vintage Press).

The plays are copyright to their respective companies and playwrights.  Pinter's plays can be read in various editions published by Methuen.

'Motion Picture Soundtrack' is a Radiohead song and appears on their album, 'Kid A' (Parlophone).

Barry Watt - Sunday 30th June 2013

'Something in the Air' - A product of individualism in an age of political apathy.

'Something in the Air' ('Apres Mai') is a French film written and directed by Oliver Assayas.  It is set just after the turbulent events in France in May 1968 i.e. the student protests and a widespread disgust of the European Governments and their involvement in the Vietnam War.  Perhaps, unsurprisingly, the focus is on the young people and their activities.  These activities involve the creation of pamphlets, attendance of quite radical youth activist groups espousing a form of Communism that is a million miles from the watered down rhetoric regurgitated by the drum beating Socialists today hanging onto the coattails of the unions.  They also just have fun together.  This fun ranges from harmless, the creation of art to the rather more risky, promiscuous sex, acts of violent protest including spraying graffiti on the school walls/windows featuring political slogans and artwork and throwing things at security.  Drugs are also a prominent feature of the youth culture depicted in the film.

The film flows like a stream of vignettes.  The characters travel about, joining other groups.  The nature of subversive film is explored.  Questions arise exploring whether revolutionary films should be created using a 'revolutionary syntax'.  Traditionally, this has been the case, consider Eisenstein's films with their 'montage of collision' (stark juxtapositions of lines, shapes and images forced against each other).  Revolutionary films by their nature do seem to be altered by their material.  There are main characters in this film but they serve as symbols of a greater whole.  Their triumphs and mistakes are the triumphs and mistakes of a generation. 

One sequence which will stick with me for some time to come involves a girl telling her boyfriend that she is off to have an abortion.  He asks if she needs company.  When she refuses, he suggests a couple of paintings she can see at a gallery once she has left the clinic.  You do not see the abortion but you do see the girl visiting the paintings of a group of men and women respectively.  She literally and figuratively stuck in the middle of the two paintings, which are on adjacent walls.  Her face, a canvas of suffering after her abortion. 

'Something in the Air' is a subtle and delicate exploration of lost innocence.  You see these characters develop and change as their politics become more subdued with age.  The soundtrack also surprises with its use of songs by Nick Drake and Tangerine Dream rather than the tendency of most modern directors to use the now clichéd handful of songs to evoke the Sixties and early Seventies.  The Moody Blues' 'Knights In White Satin', Procul Harem's 'A Whiter Shade of Pale' and pretty much anything by Donovan being the usual directorial choices.  It is a film I wholeheartedly recommend.

To open up a dialogue with you gentle reader, is it just me who feels that the United Kingdom has never really had the political activism of other European countries?  The Teenagers and youth of today are more interested in binge drinking and beginning each sentence with the word, 'Like' than exploring the subtleties of political change.  The terrible riots were not about retribution for a perceived wrong or act of atrocity.  They seemed to be more indicative of the actions of a group of Lemmings concerned slightly more with the latest trainers and mobile phones and appearing hard in front of your mates than metaphorically holding up a mirror to society and screaming aloud, 'society is going wrong'.

Sadly, there is nothing in the air today, bar the smell of testosterone, aftershave and the smell of Greggs' sausage rolls.

Barry Watt - 27th May 2013   

The Marquis de Sade - Icon, Villain or Celebrity Philosopher?

The Marquis de Sade was born on 2nd June 1740 and died on 2nd December 1814.  He remains a figure much revered, despised and reproduced.  He has become the cultural equivalent of a Hammer horror villain or Jack the Ripper.  The epitome of extremism.  To some a political thinker, critical of political figures such as Robespierre.  To others, a libertine who transcended concepts of morality.  There would be no concept of Sadism without the Marquis de Sade.

His biography makes for fascinating reading, his continual imprisonment for subversive works, but what has always intrigued me is how he remains a vital ingredient in the more extreme and subversive aspects of cultural expressionism.  A Mickey Mouse figure for a generation of degenerates and thinkers.  The proverbial straw that continues to break the camel's back.

I probably first encountered the Marquis de Sade, whilst at college in 1993.  His philosophical views probably fascinated me as they would most young men.  No restraint and no limits.  A rebel who held the Government of his time to be detrimental and wanting.  I remember deciding to try to find one of his works at Foyles.  I should have been prepared for the reaction I received.  Upon asking a shop assistant for The One Hundred Days of Sodom, I was pointed towards the adult books in the corner.  The majority of his works were there with some of the most inappropriate covers I have ever seen.  The front and back covers are full of female naked bodies cavorting with no faces apparent.  The Arrow Books' edition cover illustration provided by John Geary.  It's quite a nice illustration but not something you would proudly display on your journey to college or work.  Looking again at my copy of the book, which is essentially a novel, I can spot my underlinings.  Pencil underlinings were a feature of my days in education.  They also provided a way for me to anchor myself in the material in a slightly more academic way.  The novel can be read as an aid to arousal, if you are of a certain proclivity.  I am open to ideas and enjoy the sense of engagement that a pencil provides.  I do remember not finishing the novel.  Basically, a group of aristocrats take themselves off to a chateau somewhere with an assortment of men, women and children.  They subsequently perform any acts that take their fancy and assert strong rules.  At certain points, they control the excremental habits of the people who have no control or function other than to serve the needs of the aristocrats.  The novel is broken down into days and at times is hard to read owing to the atrocities committed.  I will reread the novel soon to see if it impacts upon me in the same way as it did on a nineteen year old.  Believe it or not, it does have interesting insights into human nature, Nature and religion.

Two quotes that give an insight into the extremity and unpleasantness of de Sade, but also the transgressive beauty of smashing the boundaries of human codes of morality can be found below:

"By and large, offer your fronts very little to our sight; remember that this loathsome part, which only the alienation of her wits could have permitted Nature to create, is always the one we find most repugnant."

(De Sade: Page 222)

'Let them be persuaded, these stupid creatures, let them henceforth be convinced that in all the world there are not twenty persons today who cling to this mad notion of God's existence, and that the religion he invokes is nothing but a fable ludicrously invented by cheats and impostors, whose interest in deceiving us is only too clear at the present time.'

(De Sade: Page 223)

Both of these quotes are taken from a section of the text that documents a speech given by the Duc de Blangis, an eighteen year old and one of the Masters in this narrative.  The first pertaining to the rather derogatory attitude towards the vagina, which I continue to find intriguing.  The seeming misogyny perhaps rather indicative of a wider disgust for procreation and human beings in general.  The second quote is actually quite a reasonable assertion if you believe in nothing more substantial than your own existence or uphold atheist beliefs.  My objection with de Sade is the abuse that his characters inflict upon each other.  I also dislike the way that women are depicted.  Having said that, political analogies can be drawn.  Power relations always lean towards some form of exploitation.  So in this respect, he preempts Marx's views and philosophy.

Now moving slightly forward in time, the Italian film director, Pasolini made a film version of the novel in 1975 as his final film.  Salo or The 120 Days of Sodom remains one of the most controversial films ever made.  It is still banned in certain countries.  I saw it for the first time the other day at the BFI on the Southbank and as is always the case, when I view films that are so extreme that the media coverage surrounding them render them as rather intriguing Pandora's Boxes, I look at the audience demographic.  If the audience is simply comprised of men, I feel like a pervert and my view of the film changes.  Fortunately, the audience had a fair mix of men and women, so I still felt like a pervert but a pervert with aspirations of wholesome moral values, occasionally achieved.  The film essentially takes the ideas of the original novel and places them in Italy around July 1943 after the fall of Benito Mussolini.  Four corrupt fascist libertines kidnap and take off a group of eighteen teenage girls and boys, who they subsequently use and abuse in various manners.  The libertines are accompanied by their new wives (they marry each others daughters).  The film is structured around four chapters that relate to Dante's Inferno.  It features every possible taboo that you can mention and the final chapter, 'The Circle of Blood' is amongst the most horrible sequences I have ever seen.  As each of the libertines stares through binoculars from an upstairs window, he witnesses the punishment of each of the young people who broke the ground rules.  I guess the punishment matches the proclivity of the libertine and include the application of a lighter to a boy's penis, a scalping and an eye gouging.  Now, I am open to all ideas and find censorship largely abhorrent but the horror of the punishments was something else.  Also earlier in the film, people are forced to eat excrement based on the fact that one of the older women remembers someone enjoying the experience of consuming excrement.  The film is something else and ends with a waltz.  Again, I was intrigued how the audience would respond.  It seems customary to applaud at the conclusion of each film shown at the BFI.  One or two people were tempted to clap but then stopped themselves.  The conversation generated by this film exceeds the reaction to any other film I have seen.  The film's saving grace is the strength and courage of its director.  It is amazingly well made and leaves an indelible mark upon you after you have seen it.

The Marquis de Sade has also been depicted in two major stage plays, which have subsequently been remade as films.  The most radical of these I saw this afternoon at the Rio in Dalston, the Marat Sade, which is the shortened version of the play and film's actual title,   The Persecution and Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Charenton Under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade.  The play was written by Peter Weiss and originally directed on the stage by Peter Brook who also directed the film version.  Believe it or not, the title of the play/film is precisely what the play/film is about.  It is a very extreme and peculiar representation of a murder and the events surrounding it.  The Marquis de Sade played by Herbert Lom moves the action along, whilst various representatives of the asylum and their families look on.  The action takes place of a stage, which resembled a cage as bars occupy the front of the proscenium arch where normally, the audience would have an unrestricted view of the action.  The play and film serve to illustrate the views of the Marquis de Sade, the repressive mechanisms in operation in mental institutions to prevent the outbreak of anarchy (the asylum workers intervene every time the inmates/actors get a bit carried away).  The play/film after closing ends with the complete breakdown of normal values and codes of morality.  A sado-masochistic orgy ensues.  Glenda Jackson plays the eventual murderer of Marat, she also suffers from melancholia and sleep sickness.  It's not a conventional film and play.  Upon its stage production back in the 60s and even more recently in 2011 at Stratford Upon Avon, members of the audience walked out.  I found the film engaging yet very stagy.  Having said that, the feeling of anarchy and exhaustion that pervades the film and the staging gives it a sense of claustrophobia and perhaps allows a greater sense of empathy with the characters.  The other major play about the Marquis de Sade was Quills and this also became a film with the Marquis de Sade played by Geoffrey Rush.  The original play was written by Doug Wright.  My memories of the film involve the Marquis de Sade incarcerated writing his incendiary manuscripts and getting other people to smuggle them out for him.  It reminded me a lot of One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest.  It's certainly the more accessible of the two films.

As a cultural figure, I have also bumped into the Marquis de Sade in comics (The Invisibles), in other plays (Madame de Sade - Yukio Mishima ) and in various literary criticism and novels.  After all, just think where would the 'Mummy Porn' sensation, The Fifty Shades Trilogy by E.L. James be without the Marquis de Sade.  He may have been extreme but at his heart, he helped to point out an essential truth, sexuality is not one dimensional.  Also pleasure and pain are not mutually exclusive and for that perhaps, we should be grateful however grudgingly?

Barry Watt - 28th April 2013

Afterword

The quotes from 'The One Hundred Days of Sodom' are taken from the Arrow Books' edition, The One Hundred Days of Sodom and other writings (Arrow Books, 1990).

Salo or the 120 Days of Sodom (Pasolini, 1975) (Film available on DVD).

Dante's Inferno is the first part of Dante Alighieri's poem, The Divine Comedy.

Marat Sade (Peter Brook, 1967) (Film available on DVD.  The play is by Peter Weiss).

Quills (Philip Kaufman, 2000) (Film available on DVD.  The play is by Doug Wright.

One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest (The novel is by Ken Kesey and the film was directed by Milos Forman in 1975.  The film is available as a DVD).

The Invisibles (Comic written by Grant Morrison and published by DC Comics).

Madame de Sade (Play by Yukio Mishima).

The Fifty Shades Trilogy (Novels by E.L. James and published by Vintage Books).






       

The Barbican - A Sentimental Journey

As I notice the grey hairs popping up all over my head, I become increasingly aware of the passage of time.  I age but I am left wondering whether buildings age in the same way?  I guess they fall apart, organic growth gradually working on the cracks and deficiencies in concrete constructs, changing their form.  But significantly, concepts whether we like them or not, do not age in the same way.

The Barbican Centre was designed in the Brutalist style by Chamberlin, Powell and Bon.  The Southbank Centre is also an example of the same style.  Think lots of concrete, stark angles, walkways that eventually get you where you need to get.  Now at one stage, the Brutalist style would have driven me up the wall but as I become more conversant in various art styles, I have gradually adapted to and have a grudging respect for the very heavy and essentially 'cold' aesthetics of Brutalism.  In fact, I now see it as emblematic of the spaces that it occupies.  Could you imagine the Barbican area or the area around the Southbank in any other way now?  It has helped to define the spaces.

Anyhow, back to the point, this blog entry is an exploration of the Barbican from a personal angle.  Somehow, it has become the most important area of my life in the last few years.  If the Barbican Centre and the Barbican area can be defined as intrically tied up with the architecture of the building and area, so too have I become involved in an almost symbiotic relationship with the Barbican Centre.  It's almost a home away from home.

My first experience of the Barbican Centre was in 1997 when I graduated from the University of Greenwich.  The graduation ceremony was held in the main Barbican Hall.  My memories of the day are essentially sad.  It marked a break from a really stressful yet profoundly life changing period in my life.  Cobblers to childhood solely defining who you become as an adult, education and knowledge are not tied to any one age.  We are always learning, not always the right things but experience is vital to personal growth.  The graduation ceremony was an anti-climax after all of the all nighters, both working and socialising with friends (sometimes, both at the same time).  I looked like a bizarre Matador wearing the mortar board and robe.  Ceremonial garb is always more relevant at the time than looked at retrospectively.  As the University of Greenwich were probably adopting a minimalist style to the ceremony, not dissimilar to the Barbican Centre and its functional Brutalist architecture, the Graduates and their guests were each allowed one drink post ceremony then that was it.  Three years for what?  A single glass of something.  Then off we all went in our separate directions with only a small number of contact details of the people that we had met.  Also I am sure that I got lost finding my way back to the Tube station. 

From that point onwards, I think I pretty much forgot the Barbican until 2010.  2010 was the year I joined the social networking site, Citysocialising, which is now known as Citysocializing (don't ask, I will only confuse you).  Now as people who know me will tell you, everything changed when I joined this website.  I attended a couple of events where I really felt uncomfortable.  Then I attended my friend Rachel's event, which was the Open House Day in 2010 (we attended various Government buildings) and finally decided to host my own event.  I don't know how or why but I stumbled on the fact that the Barbican was going to be showing the Pasolini film, Teorema.  Now, anyone who knows the film will wonder why I chose this film to host?  It stars Terence Stamp as a strange character who comes into a dysfunctional family, changes their lives then leaves.  Each of the characters then suffers the repercussions of his departure.  Think of the film as Mary Poppins in reverse!  I met a couple of people who were intrepid enough to sign up and a friend came along.  I was surprisingly a better host than I imagined I could be.  After the film, we went to the Barbican Lounge, which is a Tapas style restaurant.  The service was slow, the company was good and audible arguments seemed to be coming from the kitchen (I hasten to add that the Barbican Lounge is much much better now).  Apparently, we were told it was a new Chef and the Barbican Lounge gave us money off the bill for the inconvenience (two of the group waited over an hour for the first of the dishes to appear). 

The Barbican cinema (now cinemas) has become one of my favourite venues for CS events.  I have warm memories of Black Swan, seeing the film then following it up with a hastily purchased bottle of wine (the Barbican Centre bar closes quite early owing presumably to the fact that it is in the middle of a residential area).  Rachel's very funny comment about Paddy Ashdown and his resemblance to Indiana Jones, which has corrupted my image of the politician for all time. 

So that this doesn't go on all day, the Barbican Centre is like my favourite pick and mix.  It has everything.  It enjoys seasons where it links the films and theatre productions to the exhibitions in the Art Gallery.  Currently, I am enjoying the Dancing around Duchamp season, which has involved The Bride and the Bachelors '  exhibition in the Art Gallery (which on Thursdays and at the weekend involves live dance), a series of related theatrical events and films too.  As such, I have had the pleasure of attending an Absolute Dada event that resulted in my friend, Susan being invited on stage with another lady to entertain the audience for five minutes at the beginning of the performance followed by equally memorable sections including a professional musician playing one of John Cage's performances on a red toy piano and a guy playing meaningless folk songs in front of a back projection of a male penis erecting. 

If anything this blog entry is as much a celebration of the great friends I have met and enticed to come along to see various productions at the Barbican.  Susan, Rachel, Ros, Pernille, Zahira and everyone else I salute you all for your attendance.  The Barbican is the arts centre for people who like to be challenged, entertained and stimulated.  The Barbican is better than sex and chocolate.  Discuss... 

Barry Watt - 21st April 2013         

Okay, where did I leave my concrete flower? An appreciation of modern art.

On my travels, I seem to go to a number of very interesting art exhibitions.  Sometimes, I am overwhelmed and inspired to do something creative, which is rarely realised immediately but lies like a seed, waiting for the requisite succulence to grow.

Anyway, since the beginning of the year, I have finally and belatedly realised that I have a predilection for modern art in its myriad forms.  I do not mind seeing other art styles but somehow, I have always considered artists who attempt to capture 'reality in its true form' to be rather missing the point.  A flower in a vase on a table can be painted in a variety of styles but essentially, the artist's feelings and interests must imbue and/or taint the representation of the object(s).

The three most recent modern art exhibitions I have attended, the A Bigger Splash: Painting after Performance exhibition at the Tate Modern, the Schwitters In Britain exhibition at the Tate Britain and the Bernadette Corporation: 2000 Wasted Years at the ICA are all manifestations of different forms of modern art.  Out of the three exhibitions, the Schwitters in Britain exhibition is perhaps, the most 'conventional'.  Kurt Schwitters' work takes the form of collages of found objects, sculptures, installations and recordings of staged performances of his poetry, which is essentially phonetic.  Repeated words and sounds captured for eternity on scratchy recording devices.  Vinyl mementos transferred to digital technology, so they can be shared forever.  In many respects, Schwitters' work embodies the life of an exile, a man who chose to leave Germany in 1937 after his work was condemned by the Nazi Government, it resonates with a sense of nostalgia and occasionally sadness.  Railway tickets and bits of adverts and wood punctuate many of his collages.  They trace his life and travels.  He created a word to describe his work, 'Merz'. 

As Schwitters described in 1919:

'The word Merz denotes essentially the combination of all conceivable materials
for artistic purposes, and technically the principle of equal evaluation of the
individual materials... A perambulator wheel, wire-netting, string and cotton wool
are factors having equal rights with paint.'

(Kurt Schwitters 1919 - Reprinted in Tate Britain Exhibition Booklet)

One of his works which he sadly never finished was a Merz Barn in the Lake District, which now consists of just a single wall, which is at the Hatton Gallery.  There is a time line at the exhibition explaining the oddly involved world of art acquisition with its deals and messy incomplete transactions.  The exhibition has stills of the wall as it was created.  It truly is an intriguing combination of elements.  Curves and lines, strange profusions.  Please see the following link for an image of the wall and more information.

http://www.twmuseums.org.uk/hatton-gallery/collections/kurt-schwitters-and-the-merzbarn-wall.html

The exhibition was surprisingly moving and collage as an art form is very versatile and engaging.  It also has a tactile quality.  Of course, touching the works is not encouraged, but the possibility of creating works for people to touch appeals to me.

The A Bigger Splash: Painting after Performance exhibition at the Tate Britain which I attended on the same day as the above exhibition demonstrated the more visceral and confrontational nature of modern art.  The exhibition was about artists who are interested in the processes of creation as opposed to focusing too intently on the finished product.  As such, a film in the first room is projected above a piece by Jackson Pollock revealing how he created works.  Essentially, splashing paint onto a canvas.  Lines and drips cascading across a blank canvas.  Squiggles of differing colours representing the artist's aesthetic dance.  The finished work like a captured memory of a dance with a creative muse.  The other works in the exhibition ranged from the oddly beautiful, one work involved different people shooting sacks of paint which were suspended over a canvas and then punctured by gun shots causing the paint to splatter the canvas (Niki de Saint Phalle) to truly bizarre works involving ritual, performance and bodily fluids such as blood (the Vienna Actionists).  Many of the works are films, which are documents of a form of creativity that grabs you by the throat.  I left the exhibition feeling exhilarated and changed.  It made me want to get a group of people together and do something in that moment.  This leads to an interesting question does modern art age that well?  It's a rhetorical question but worth thinking about as certain inter textual references become oblique or forgotten.  Having said that, other forms of art can also be seen as ageing and are kept in the public eye by academics and curators putting on exhibitions to remind or impose their meanings upon the works of art.

The last art exhibition I am going to talk about in this blog entry is the Bernadette Corporation: 2000 Wasted Years at the ICA.  The Bernadette Corporation seem to be an organisation that creates works through the exploitation of various mediums.  They are ironic, postmodern in their references, political and above all, hard to define.  Their BC logo rendering them as meaningful as any other corporation.  They have put on fashion shows in deserted warehouses, created narratives by multiple authors.  Most amusingly to me, they have created 'versions' of popular books such as 'Moby Dick', which are simply academic break downs of the narratives, subjective reactions to the texts.  A comment on a generation more intent on reading study guides than the original texts?  I loved the exhibition for the sheer craziness of the material on offer.  How do you describe a constantly changing organisation that is inspired by everything?  The ICA has done as good a job as you can and it's fascinating to me the number of negative reviews that the exhibition has received.  I think that the reviewers are missing the point and it could be that living artists are harder to represent than dead ones.  Careers are harder to categorise and represent when the creative team remains fluid. 

To close, I recommend all three of the exhibitions (although, sadly, the A Bigger Splash exhibition has finished, although I guess it may move somewhere else).  Each of these exhibitions has illustrated to me the importance of modern art.  I like to be challenged and stimulated.  Modern art is the stimuli for the occasional mundanity and heroic stoicism of everyday life.

Barry Watt - Sunday 7th April 2013.

Afterword

The Schwitters quote was extracted from the Schwitters In Britain exhibition guide (Tate Britain, 2013)

For more information on the Bernadette Corporation, please see their website:
http://www.bernadettecorporation.com/