You know how it is... You have been sitting watching a really good play then all of a sudden the lights go out and go on promptly and you are left with ten minutes to thirty minutes of your life to occupy in a manner that has some meaning (or not as the mood takes you).
Now, the theatres and cultural establishments have a myriad of reasons for encouraging these breaks. Sometimes, they are necessary to change sets but mostly, the breaks are arbitrary; good excuses to encourage the audience to go out and buy drinks and over-priced ice creams.
As you may have gathered, I am not a fan of intervals. I have seen many a production lose its momentum as a result of this break. Having said that, I do not seem to be alone. If you gaze around the auditorium during the interval, lots of the audience members are sitting around, reading their programmes, dissecting the remnants of their lives in the electronic devices they choose to connect with at the expense of their souls. I seem to be at the point of my life where celebrating the immediacy of the moment is very important. Now just think what could be done with the time spent during the intervals. People could actually talk about their experiences with each other. You are all collectively watching a performance. This is a shared experience. Alternatively, a more subversive use of the interval could be devised. For fun, you could jump up on stage or if you are slightly more conservative, stand in front of the stage, then recite either your own creative works or those of others. Alternatively, just think of the stage as the equivalent of Speaker's Corner in Hyde Park, espouse rhetoric and radical theories at the captive audience, salivating at the prospect of the second half of the performance. Personally, I like the idea of jumping on stage and moving the props. Just think how excited the performers would be to return to the stage to discover that the book that eventually leads to the denouement of the narrative has disappeared.
But on a serious note, I feel that it may be worth exploring the value of intervals. They are the equivalent of Limbo or that little area next to the River Styx, where you wait for the Ferryman to take you off to the Underworld. It is a space of dead time. It can and has been used creatively, the most recent production of 'Mother Courage' at the National Theatre continued filling the interval with the sounds and actions of war as the stage was radically altered. This production resonated even more owing to this attention to detail. The never ending war continues even when the actors stop for a pee and a drink.
Reclaim the intervals, start using them as a springboard for creativity or social change. The minutes add up and there is only so much time you can waste queueing at the bar (or for the toilets)!
Barry Watt - 3rd August 2014.
Afterword.
'Mother Courage (and Her Children)' was written by Bertolt Brecht and was last performed at the National Theatre in London in 2009 with Fiona Shaw and Duke Special. A truly memorable performance.
BW
Sunday, 3 August 2014
Saturday, 26 July 2014
Shakespeare for Haters or Learning to Bear the Bard.
I first encountered Shakespeare as the result of a teacher at my primary school. It was a typical assembly in a hall, like many school halls a wonderful symphony of odours, ranging from mashed potato to sweat. The teacher gave us the rundown of 'The Merchant of Venice' and positively salivated as he relished the sound of the phrase, 'pound of flesh'. He also explained to the innocents surrounding him, the only area where a pound of flesh could be removed (for your information around the heart). Poor Antonio but you really shouldn't make deals with dodgy money lenders called Shylock...
The assembly remains etched upon my memories of childhood and to this day, I still haven't seen 'The Merchant of Venice' although I will. The word 'flesh' makes me creep though, in this case owing to childhood fears and the associations made between 'flesh' and food consumption and cannibalism. As I have subsequently learnt, Shakespeare touched on themes of cannibalism more than once in his plays.
It may not surprise you that Shakespeare and I as a child had little in common. Indeed, even when I hit secondary school and studied 'Macbeth' at GCSE then 'Antony and Cleopatra' for A-Level. It took a little while for me to get to grips with the subject matter and the language. As an adult, I look back and I can resolutely empathise with students who cannot get on with Shakespeare. His works mean so much more in performance than they do on the page. The language is archaic, so it takes awhile to get to grips with the poetry of the works. Slipping beneath layers of innuendo that wouldn't seem out of place in the 'Carry On' series years later to get to the real content of the works can be a tedious task for students. Fortunately, my English teacher at secondary school had the sense to show the Polanski film of 'Macbeth', which also featured Keith Chegwin (children around the country will remember him as a TV presenter) and he sang. 'Antony and Cleopatra' worked for me once the power relations between the characters was established and let's face it, who can fail to love a play in which the lead bungles his own noble suicide. I also studied 'Twelfth Night' for A-Level. In retrospect, I prefer the tragedies to the comedies, they mean more to me, the characters are more real. Although, 'Twelfth Night' does contain some amazingly funny characters and contains one of my favourite lines from Shakespeare, 'many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage' ('Twelfth Night Act 1, Scene 5).
When I resat A-Level English at college, I studied 'A Winter's Tale', which like many of Shakespeare's comedies involves mistaken identities, people hiding themselves under different disguises and some quite mundane comedy. As I say, the tragedies are where Shakespeare excelled. It's interesting to think that post college, Shakespeare and I did not really mix much. I saw the odd production whilst I was at university but I was more interested in other playwrights.
It has only been recently that something about the Bard has struck home with me. A friend suggested a lecture/performance piece at the British Library, which explored the notion that the clipped over the top BBC pronunciation of Shakespeare's works had removed it from its original context. It was after all performed to everyone, not just to a group of upper middle class with more money than sense. Also the actors came from a variety of backgrounds, so the dialect would of could alter how lines were delivered. When you hear the work delivered in something that probably equated with the original pronunciation of the works, you can see the intricacies of the rhythmic structure and also as one of the actors stated, it changes how you deliver the lines. The problem with trying to deliver the lines with too much austerity and too little emotion is to render them as passionate and appealing as a shopping list. I have seen some truly average performances where somewhere beneath the dry expression of the poetry, there was once a brilliant play.
I can say now as an adult that I have a liking for Shakespeare and his works. However, I will not deify his works. I am not in the camp that feel that he should be studied at the exclusion of every other playwright or poet. He should be seen in context. At one point, I would have stated that you need to study his plays to get the most out of them. Well, guess what? I was only partially right. It sometimes helps, but actually when you let yourself go and simply go to see lots of Shakespeare's plays, something changes. You learn that they cover universal themes, that the characters are as familiar as your friends, family and enemies. Also the language is as eclectic as the conversations you engage in with the people you encounter. Sometimes, quite flowery, occasionally colloquial and always to the point. I don't care whether Shakespeare wrote all of his own plays (logically, he may not have done, after all he worked in different theatre groups) but something about the works has started to resonate profoundly with me. So much so, that I have vowed to see all of the plays I haven't seen performed professionally by the time I hit the age of fifty.
Shakespeare, I was wrong about you or maybe, I was led astray for a while and now I am back on track.
Barry Watt - 26th July 2014.
Afterword.
Roman Polanski's film, 'Macbeth' is available on DVD from Sony Pictures Home Entertainment.
Shakespeare's plays are available in a million different versions. Just grab the ones you feel most comfortable with. The family inherited a beautiful volume of Shakespeare's works with notes marking when the owner saw various productions and her opinions of the performances. She also drew a lovely image of the Bard. The edition is 'Shakespeare's Works' (Oxford University Press 1928). The line from 'Twelfth Night' was extracted from page 346 of this edition.
It may not surprise you that Shakespeare and I as a child had little in common. Indeed, even when I hit secondary school and studied 'Macbeth' at GCSE then 'Antony and Cleopatra' for A-Level. It took a little while for me to get to grips with the subject matter and the language. As an adult, I look back and I can resolutely empathise with students who cannot get on with Shakespeare. His works mean so much more in performance than they do on the page. The language is archaic, so it takes awhile to get to grips with the poetry of the works. Slipping beneath layers of innuendo that wouldn't seem out of place in the 'Carry On' series years later to get to the real content of the works can be a tedious task for students. Fortunately, my English teacher at secondary school had the sense to show the Polanski film of 'Macbeth', which also featured Keith Chegwin (children around the country will remember him as a TV presenter) and he sang. 'Antony and Cleopatra' worked for me once the power relations between the characters was established and let's face it, who can fail to love a play in which the lead bungles his own noble suicide. I also studied 'Twelfth Night' for A-Level. In retrospect, I prefer the tragedies to the comedies, they mean more to me, the characters are more real. Although, 'Twelfth Night' does contain some amazingly funny characters and contains one of my favourite lines from Shakespeare, 'many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage' ('Twelfth Night Act 1, Scene 5).
When I resat A-Level English at college, I studied 'A Winter's Tale', which like many of Shakespeare's comedies involves mistaken identities, people hiding themselves under different disguises and some quite mundane comedy. As I say, the tragedies are where Shakespeare excelled. It's interesting to think that post college, Shakespeare and I did not really mix much. I saw the odd production whilst I was at university but I was more interested in other playwrights.
It has only been recently that something about the Bard has struck home with me. A friend suggested a lecture/performance piece at the British Library, which explored the notion that the clipped over the top BBC pronunciation of Shakespeare's works had removed it from its original context. It was after all performed to everyone, not just to a group of upper middle class with more money than sense. Also the actors came from a variety of backgrounds, so the dialect would of could alter how lines were delivered. When you hear the work delivered in something that probably equated with the original pronunciation of the works, you can see the intricacies of the rhythmic structure and also as one of the actors stated, it changes how you deliver the lines. The problem with trying to deliver the lines with too much austerity and too little emotion is to render them as passionate and appealing as a shopping list. I have seen some truly average performances where somewhere beneath the dry expression of the poetry, there was once a brilliant play.
I can say now as an adult that I have a liking for Shakespeare and his works. However, I will not deify his works. I am not in the camp that feel that he should be studied at the exclusion of every other playwright or poet. He should be seen in context. At one point, I would have stated that you need to study his plays to get the most out of them. Well, guess what? I was only partially right. It sometimes helps, but actually when you let yourself go and simply go to see lots of Shakespeare's plays, something changes. You learn that they cover universal themes, that the characters are as familiar as your friends, family and enemies. Also the language is as eclectic as the conversations you engage in with the people you encounter. Sometimes, quite flowery, occasionally colloquial and always to the point. I don't care whether Shakespeare wrote all of his own plays (logically, he may not have done, after all he worked in different theatre groups) but something about the works has started to resonate profoundly with me. So much so, that I have vowed to see all of the plays I haven't seen performed professionally by the time I hit the age of fifty.
Shakespeare, I was wrong about you or maybe, I was led astray for a while and now I am back on track.
Barry Watt - 26th July 2014.
Afterword.
Roman Polanski's film, 'Macbeth' is available on DVD from Sony Pictures Home Entertainment.
Shakespeare's plays are available in a million different versions. Just grab the ones you feel most comfortable with. The family inherited a beautiful volume of Shakespeare's works with notes marking when the owner saw various productions and her opinions of the performances. She also drew a lovely image of the Bard. The edition is 'Shakespeare's Works' (Oxford University Press 1928). The line from 'Twelfth Night' was extracted from page 346 of this edition.
BW
Saturday, 14 June 2014
Pulp - Growing up with dirt in your fingernails and the stars in your eyes.
I didn't think much of music until the early 90s when I stumbled on the works of Bob Dylan. It was there in the background (my sister loved music) but I guess as a prolific reader, shy and introverted, it passed me by. I was 18 before music really gripped me, although significantly, it was the lyrics that grabbed me first. I then stumbled on Elvis Costello by accident then quite by chance, Pulp.
Boring introduction leading to the eventual point of this blog entry. Yes, today, children, we are exploring the band Pulp and their significance to me (not unlike the importance their music and myriad personalities have had on so many people).
I saw Pulp on the then seminal music show, 'Later with... Jools Holland'. This was back in the mid 90s when the show was more about the music and Jools Holland was contented to simply introduce the acts (in recent years, the show feels as though it is more about him but that's my personal opinion). Pulp performed as is customary on the show, a couple of songs. The song that grabbed me was 'I Spy'. 'I Spy' is a wonderfully angry little song from the album 'Different Class' expressing an individual's rage at his place in the world, fantasising about a woman from a 'higher' social class. I loved 'Saturday Night and Sunday Morning', the novel and film, so I appreciated the anger that permeated the song. It also had a line that still makes me cheer and ironically now means little to anyone not versed in the popular culture of the moment, 'Take your Year In Provence and shove it up your arse'. 'A Year in Provence' was a novel by Peter Mayle before it was adapted for the BBC as a miniseries that was widely dismissed. Fortunately, I missed that although I have always liked Lindsay Duncan. Anyhow, the sentiment was there in that Pulp line, a succinct up yours to a cloying upper middle class.
From then on, I gradually encountered Pulp more often as 'Different Class' was released. I confess to being one of those guys who milked the album in the Student Union Bar, whilst I was at university. It amuses me to reflect that the bartenders were the arbiters of cultural taste as they had the ability to turn the volume down on the juke box and the connected sound system. After a couple of months of 'Common People' played at ten minute intervals by students who didn't get Oasis and Blur (I remember being asked by friends at university, 'do you prefer Blur or Oasis?' I answered, 'Pulp and Suede'. Pulp had an authenticity about them which I didn't get from the PR hungry activities of Blur and Oasis. I still find it hard to listen to Oasis for more than a song or two, although I tip my hat to Blur now.
I saw Pulp for the first time at the Wembley Arena in 1996. A friend bought me a ticket as a Christmas present, she had tried to get Brixton Academy tickets, but those gigs had sold out. The Wembley gig was post Jarvis' 'Brits' arse wriggling incident, which was his instinctive reaction to Michael Jackson's 'Earth Song' performance, which is still nauseating to recall. Jarvis Cocker jumped on stage and wriggled his bum in the direction of the cameras as Jackson posed like Jesus Christ saving the world from its troubles. Jarvis Cocker's reaction was very honest and the over-reaction spoke more of a music industry pining to the needs of faux deities. Jarvis ended up down the police station accused of man handling kids (who were featured prominently in Jackson's performance). Anyhow, needless to say, he was cleared. My enduring memory of the Wembley gig was the moment when Jarvis did an edgy 'Moonwalk' across the stage, which generated huge applause from the audience. I also have memories of missing the support acts, one of whom was Edwin Collins, owing to a drinking session prior to going to the gig. I also bought a slim fit girls t-shirt and it was only when I got home that I realised this!
I next saw Pulp in 1998 at Finsbury Park where they were supported by a truly eclectic range of artists ranging from a weird covers band called the Bikini Beaches who performed instrumental versions of songs wearing shorts and Fezzes, a really irritating dance band called 'Add N to X', 'Bentley Rhythm Ace' (who were good), Bernard Butler (he came out onto the stage playing 'Not Alone' on a guitar and was in a really bad mood as someone had stolen his guitar (I believe at Glastonbury) and also Catatonia. Catatonia were the band on before Pulp and by this point were actually becoming a pretty big band in their own right. Cerys Matthews always seemed to perform with some variety of bottle to hand. It was part of her image at the time but definitely not now and sadly, Catatonia no longer exists. Pulp were promoting the 'This Is Hardcore' album, which was the band's deliberate contrary reaction to the horrors of fame. It is worlds away from the upbeat pop of the albums 'His and Hers' and 'Different Class'. It opens with a song called 'The Fear', which is effectively a song about losing your sense of self and panic attacks. The gig was filmed and the whole show minus one song was available on video as 'The Park is Mine'. It was a well performed gig, although the humour was less apparent. I still marvelled at Jarvis' subtle hand movements and body gesticulations. Twisting and undulating around monitors. The song 'This Is Hardcore' live also became more sordid in performance. Jarvis simulating the sexual act with the use of a pointed and thrusting finger.
The remaining two Pulp gigs I attended were at the Brixton Academy in 2001, where they were effectively promoting 'We Love Life' (an environmentally friendly album, well in terms of lyrics anyway) and one of their comeback shows in Hyde Park in 2011. The 2001 gig springs back to memory on account of the support act, The Fat Truckers, who were quick to introduce themselves in the following way, 'We are not fat and we are not truckers' and also by Pulp's use of a bizarre artificial parrot in a cage, which flapped its wings in response to the music. I also found out that one of the friends I attended the gig with was pregnant, so it has a certain piquancy for that reason. The Hyde Park gig demonstrated to me how necessary the band had been to me and to so many others. In 2011, their music was even more relevant as a response to a government and society drowning in apathy. 'Common People' was like a beacon and a call to arms.
Last week, I attended the film 'Pulp: A Film About Life, Deaths and Supermarkets' at the BFI. This documentary film explores the band's final gig in Sheffield in 2012 (I hadn't even realised that they had put the band to one side again, although when I attended the Cheltenham Literature Festival in 2011, Jarvis Cocker did announce in a talk that the gigs would not continue forever) and also explores Sheffield. This screening of the film was accompanied by a couple of Q and As from a Sheffield Documentary film festival where the director and band were involved. The most powerful aspect of the film is its focus on the fans and the people of Sheffield. Bands are important but no more so than in relation to their birthplace. They are the product of a shared history.
As this has been a personal insight into the band and how they have been an important factor in my life, they have also helped me to develop friendships. Pulp were and are a band for outsiders and individuals who dare to question, explore and play. They are a celebration of all that matters in life.
Barry Watt - 14th June 2014.
Afterword
'Later with... Jools Holland' is copyright to the BBC.
'I Spy' is on the album 'Different Class' and is available from Universal Island.
'Different Class', 'His and Hers', 'This Is Hardcore' and 'We Love Life' are all available on Universal Island.
'The Park Is Mine' is currently available of DVD as 'Pulp: Ultimate Live', which includes two concerts, one from the Brixton Academy in 1995 and also the Finsbury Park gig from 1998, which I attended.
'A Year in Provence' was written by Peter Mayle and is published by Penguin and is available on DVD from Second Sight Media.
'Saturday Night and Sunday Morning' was written by Alan Sillitoe (currently published by Harper Perennial) and the film is available from BFI video.
'Pulp: A Film About Life, Deaths and Supermarkets' is in all good cinemas now and is well worth a watch.
BW
Boring introduction leading to the eventual point of this blog entry. Yes, today, children, we are exploring the band Pulp and their significance to me (not unlike the importance their music and myriad personalities have had on so many people).
I saw Pulp on the then seminal music show, 'Later with... Jools Holland'. This was back in the mid 90s when the show was more about the music and Jools Holland was contented to simply introduce the acts (in recent years, the show feels as though it is more about him but that's my personal opinion). Pulp performed as is customary on the show, a couple of songs. The song that grabbed me was 'I Spy'. 'I Spy' is a wonderfully angry little song from the album 'Different Class' expressing an individual's rage at his place in the world, fantasising about a woman from a 'higher' social class. I loved 'Saturday Night and Sunday Morning', the novel and film, so I appreciated the anger that permeated the song. It also had a line that still makes me cheer and ironically now means little to anyone not versed in the popular culture of the moment, 'Take your Year In Provence and shove it up your arse'. 'A Year in Provence' was a novel by Peter Mayle before it was adapted for the BBC as a miniseries that was widely dismissed. Fortunately, I missed that although I have always liked Lindsay Duncan. Anyhow, the sentiment was there in that Pulp line, a succinct up yours to a cloying upper middle class.
From then on, I gradually encountered Pulp more often as 'Different Class' was released. I confess to being one of those guys who milked the album in the Student Union Bar, whilst I was at university. It amuses me to reflect that the bartenders were the arbiters of cultural taste as they had the ability to turn the volume down on the juke box and the connected sound system. After a couple of months of 'Common People' played at ten minute intervals by students who didn't get Oasis and Blur (I remember being asked by friends at university, 'do you prefer Blur or Oasis?' I answered, 'Pulp and Suede'. Pulp had an authenticity about them which I didn't get from the PR hungry activities of Blur and Oasis. I still find it hard to listen to Oasis for more than a song or two, although I tip my hat to Blur now.
I saw Pulp for the first time at the Wembley Arena in 1996. A friend bought me a ticket as a Christmas present, she had tried to get Brixton Academy tickets, but those gigs had sold out. The Wembley gig was post Jarvis' 'Brits' arse wriggling incident, which was his instinctive reaction to Michael Jackson's 'Earth Song' performance, which is still nauseating to recall. Jarvis Cocker jumped on stage and wriggled his bum in the direction of the cameras as Jackson posed like Jesus Christ saving the world from its troubles. Jarvis Cocker's reaction was very honest and the over-reaction spoke more of a music industry pining to the needs of faux deities. Jarvis ended up down the police station accused of man handling kids (who were featured prominently in Jackson's performance). Anyhow, needless to say, he was cleared. My enduring memory of the Wembley gig was the moment when Jarvis did an edgy 'Moonwalk' across the stage, which generated huge applause from the audience. I also have memories of missing the support acts, one of whom was Edwin Collins, owing to a drinking session prior to going to the gig. I also bought a slim fit girls t-shirt and it was only when I got home that I realised this!
I next saw Pulp in 1998 at Finsbury Park where they were supported by a truly eclectic range of artists ranging from a weird covers band called the Bikini Beaches who performed instrumental versions of songs wearing shorts and Fezzes, a really irritating dance band called 'Add N to X', 'Bentley Rhythm Ace' (who were good), Bernard Butler (he came out onto the stage playing 'Not Alone' on a guitar and was in a really bad mood as someone had stolen his guitar (I believe at Glastonbury) and also Catatonia. Catatonia were the band on before Pulp and by this point were actually becoming a pretty big band in their own right. Cerys Matthews always seemed to perform with some variety of bottle to hand. It was part of her image at the time but definitely not now and sadly, Catatonia no longer exists. Pulp were promoting the 'This Is Hardcore' album, which was the band's deliberate contrary reaction to the horrors of fame. It is worlds away from the upbeat pop of the albums 'His and Hers' and 'Different Class'. It opens with a song called 'The Fear', which is effectively a song about losing your sense of self and panic attacks. The gig was filmed and the whole show minus one song was available on video as 'The Park is Mine'. It was a well performed gig, although the humour was less apparent. I still marvelled at Jarvis' subtle hand movements and body gesticulations. Twisting and undulating around monitors. The song 'This Is Hardcore' live also became more sordid in performance. Jarvis simulating the sexual act with the use of a pointed and thrusting finger.
The remaining two Pulp gigs I attended were at the Brixton Academy in 2001, where they were effectively promoting 'We Love Life' (an environmentally friendly album, well in terms of lyrics anyway) and one of their comeback shows in Hyde Park in 2011. The 2001 gig springs back to memory on account of the support act, The Fat Truckers, who were quick to introduce themselves in the following way, 'We are not fat and we are not truckers' and also by Pulp's use of a bizarre artificial parrot in a cage, which flapped its wings in response to the music. I also found out that one of the friends I attended the gig with was pregnant, so it has a certain piquancy for that reason. The Hyde Park gig demonstrated to me how necessary the band had been to me and to so many others. In 2011, their music was even more relevant as a response to a government and society drowning in apathy. 'Common People' was like a beacon and a call to arms.
Last week, I attended the film 'Pulp: A Film About Life, Deaths and Supermarkets' at the BFI. This documentary film explores the band's final gig in Sheffield in 2012 (I hadn't even realised that they had put the band to one side again, although when I attended the Cheltenham Literature Festival in 2011, Jarvis Cocker did announce in a talk that the gigs would not continue forever) and also explores Sheffield. This screening of the film was accompanied by a couple of Q and As from a Sheffield Documentary film festival where the director and band were involved. The most powerful aspect of the film is its focus on the fans and the people of Sheffield. Bands are important but no more so than in relation to their birthplace. They are the product of a shared history.
As this has been a personal insight into the band and how they have been an important factor in my life, they have also helped me to develop friendships. Pulp were and are a band for outsiders and individuals who dare to question, explore and play. They are a celebration of all that matters in life.
Barry Watt - 14th June 2014.
Afterword
'Later with... Jools Holland' is copyright to the BBC.
'I Spy' is on the album 'Different Class' and is available from Universal Island.
'Different Class', 'His and Hers', 'This Is Hardcore' and 'We Love Life' are all available on Universal Island.
'The Park Is Mine' is currently available of DVD as 'Pulp: Ultimate Live', which includes two concerts, one from the Brixton Academy in 1995 and also the Finsbury Park gig from 1998, which I attended.
'A Year in Provence' was written by Peter Mayle and is published by Penguin and is available on DVD from Second Sight Media.
'Saturday Night and Sunday Morning' was written by Alan Sillitoe (currently published by Harper Perennial) and the film is available from BFI video.
'Pulp: A Film About Life, Deaths and Supermarkets' is in all good cinemas now and is well worth a watch.
BW
Saturday, 3 May 2014
'The Testament of Mary', Solo Performances and Method Acting Birds.
Last night, I attended a performance of 'The Testament of Mary' at the Barbican Theatre. It was one of a number of solo performances I have had the pleasure of attending over the years. Well crafted, punchy explorations of human nature in differing contexts and performers who put themselves on the line. There can be nothing more terrifying as an actor and performer than realising that you have to hold the attention of an audience for a period of time (regularly more than an hour) alone. Distractions in the form of back projection, props and other aspects of mise-en-scene can help but if the performer is not fully engaged, the possibility that the audience will rapidly lost interest goes up exponentially.
Curiously but perhaps, appropriately, the audience were invited to walk around the stage prior to the performance starting last night. All of the props were on the stage, tables, chairs, candles and a live vulture. Yes, even prior to the audience's promenade around the stage, the vulture was perched minding its own business and simply experiencing the moment of being. The audience clambered around it and I am sure that after years of practising the Stanislavski technique of 'becoming the character', it viewed the intrusion as simply a mild distraction from its major role as 'The Vulture'. Even more significantly, Fiona Shaw came on stage in character as Mary and sat on a chair surrounded by candles and other religious iconography, whilst a glass box descended around her and enclosed her as though trapped in a frame, captured by the gaze of the audience who are free to interpret her deified presence as they choose. Mary, the perpetual victim of interpretation and misappropriation. Beneath the myth, a real woman existed, who remains ill defined and somewhat relegated to the sidelines, within patriarchal religious groups. Regardless of your theological beliefs, Mary has been somewhat short-changed. Whilst, the chaos on stage continued, audience members taking selfies and imagining themselves as actors on the stage (one guy decided to take a bow as he left the stage). Ironically, they did serve this role. Their engagement with the vulture and their relationship with Mary in the glass box served an aesthetic purpose. Despite the apparent closeness, there was still distance, uncomfortable admiration for Fiona Shaw as Mary and possible fear of the vulture.
The moment of the audience's stage invasion was ended at the time the show properly began when the background music increased in volume and the glass box was lifted. Mary handed out candles or lights to some of the audience members and they left the stage, whilst she walked off with the vulture. The vulture being a dominant symbol within Colm Toibin's 'The Testament of Mary', a novel which started out as a monologue created for the Dublin Theatre Festival in 2011. Then perversely, the lights dropped and some curtains came down, a stark reminder that the warm, illusion of intimacy was now over and reality was rearing its ugly head. A reality which as we all know culminated in the death of a man on a cross, which ultimately changed the world for better and for worse.
Fiona Shaw's performance was revelatory, nuanced and most importantly engaging to the audience. Her engagement with the props on stage helping to create a conflicted character who loves her son but not the orator, the magician with his healing hands and followers who get in the way. Her increasing realisation that he is doomed and that he cares little about his fate. When faced with the approaching threat of capture and his mother's impassioned plea that he should escape with her, he responds with the following line:
'Woman, what have I to do with thee?'
(Toibin Page 47)
I believe the same line or one that is very similar is used by Mary in the play. As is the case with many solo performances, just because it is performed by one person does not mean that the one actor isn't assuming multiple characters, as they recount their stories. Her response that 'I am your mother' (Toibin Page 47) is utterly heart-wrenching. The pain in Fiona Shaw's facial expression as she delivers this line resonates with the audience.
'The Testament of Mary' is an exceptional production and highlights the power of solo performances. I have seen more and more performances either written by the person who acts in them or else working with another's words in recent years. The format of the monologue is strikingly powerful when well written. The performer can either work with their own experiences or with imaginary characters. Although, interestingly, the act of construction lends each autobiographical piece the appeal of fiction. It allows the performer to slightly disassociate from the emotional content of their lives. Catharsis as entertainment and a means to create understanding. One of the most potent examples of this style of solo performance was the show 'Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister', which was written by Rebecca Peyton and Martin M. Bartelt. The play recounts Rebecca's relationship with her sister, Kate Peyton who was a BBC journalist who was murdered in Somalia, whilst working. Interestingly, although I imagine that Rebecca Peyton is the only person who has performed this play in public, it could potentially be performed by anyone as the play text exists. It has an experience to share, lives to offer up for scrutiny and empathy. I saw this performance on Sunday 8th January 2012 and Rebecca Peyton chatted to the audience after the show in the bar.
To close this blog entry, it is worth considering the following statement that appears in the programme for 'The Testament of Mary', a 'Director's Note' by Deborah Warner, as it sums up the complexity of the 'solo show', both from the side of the creative participants and also the audience:
'The 'solo show' demands participation, attention, and I would argue, our preparedness to enter the event. We all know that 'live theatre' depends on the heart-beat, energy and concentration of the audience in order to make no two nights the same; but solo work makes this obvious. In these tough economic times, it may not be the worst place to come to remind ourselves of the importance and involvement that we must play as audience members in the theatre.'
(Page 11 - Deborah Warner 'Director's Note' -'The Testament of Mary' - Barbican programme)
Every solo performance is an engagement with the audience. The performers need the audience as much as we need the escapism, the opportunity to escape into someone else's life. A good solo performance leaves you with memories of time passed in the company of someone different, who has changed or challenged you in someway. A bad solo performance can sometimes seem as meaningful as the egocentric rantings of a stand-up comedian or desperate orator standing at Speakers' Corner in Hyde Park. Either way, the act of exhibitionism and revelation should be saluted, particularly when the material is personal either because the performer has written the material her or himself or else by coming into the character, they have explored aspects of their own character. Fiona Shaw achieved this and more last night and 'The Testament of Mary' deserves to be the show that everyone wants to see. Mary is renewed and the Barbican continues to be one of the most innovative producers of contemporary culture.
Barry Watt - Saturday 3rd May 2014.
Afterword
'The Testament of Mary' is currently on at the Barbican until 25th May 2014. It goes without saying that I think that you should go to see it.
The quotes in this blog entry from 'The Testament of Mary' by Colm Toibin are extracted from the Viking (Penguin) edition of the book, which was published in 2012.
The quotation from the 'Director's Note' by Deborah Warner appears in the Barbican programme for 'The Testament of Mary' which is copyright to the Barbican (and to Deborah Warner)
'Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister' by Rebecca Peyton and Martin M. Bartelt is available as a play text published by Oberon Books.
Constantin Stanislavski was a major theatre practitioner, frequently quoted as helping to create 'method acting'.
BW
Curiously but perhaps, appropriately, the audience were invited to walk around the stage prior to the performance starting last night. All of the props were on the stage, tables, chairs, candles and a live vulture. Yes, even prior to the audience's promenade around the stage, the vulture was perched minding its own business and simply experiencing the moment of being. The audience clambered around it and I am sure that after years of practising the Stanislavski technique of 'becoming the character', it viewed the intrusion as simply a mild distraction from its major role as 'The Vulture'. Even more significantly, Fiona Shaw came on stage in character as Mary and sat on a chair surrounded by candles and other religious iconography, whilst a glass box descended around her and enclosed her as though trapped in a frame, captured by the gaze of the audience who are free to interpret her deified presence as they choose. Mary, the perpetual victim of interpretation and misappropriation. Beneath the myth, a real woman existed, who remains ill defined and somewhat relegated to the sidelines, within patriarchal religious groups. Regardless of your theological beliefs, Mary has been somewhat short-changed. Whilst, the chaos on stage continued, audience members taking selfies and imagining themselves as actors on the stage (one guy decided to take a bow as he left the stage). Ironically, they did serve this role. Their engagement with the vulture and their relationship with Mary in the glass box served an aesthetic purpose. Despite the apparent closeness, there was still distance, uncomfortable admiration for Fiona Shaw as Mary and possible fear of the vulture.
The moment of the audience's stage invasion was ended at the time the show properly began when the background music increased in volume and the glass box was lifted. Mary handed out candles or lights to some of the audience members and they left the stage, whilst she walked off with the vulture. The vulture being a dominant symbol within Colm Toibin's 'The Testament of Mary', a novel which started out as a monologue created for the Dublin Theatre Festival in 2011. Then perversely, the lights dropped and some curtains came down, a stark reminder that the warm, illusion of intimacy was now over and reality was rearing its ugly head. A reality which as we all know culminated in the death of a man on a cross, which ultimately changed the world for better and for worse.
Fiona Shaw's performance was revelatory, nuanced and most importantly engaging to the audience. Her engagement with the props on stage helping to create a conflicted character who loves her son but not the orator, the magician with his healing hands and followers who get in the way. Her increasing realisation that he is doomed and that he cares little about his fate. When faced with the approaching threat of capture and his mother's impassioned plea that he should escape with her, he responds with the following line:
'Woman, what have I to do with thee?'
(Toibin Page 47)
I believe the same line or one that is very similar is used by Mary in the play. As is the case with many solo performances, just because it is performed by one person does not mean that the one actor isn't assuming multiple characters, as they recount their stories. Her response that 'I am your mother' (Toibin Page 47) is utterly heart-wrenching. The pain in Fiona Shaw's facial expression as she delivers this line resonates with the audience.
'The Testament of Mary' is an exceptional production and highlights the power of solo performances. I have seen more and more performances either written by the person who acts in them or else working with another's words in recent years. The format of the monologue is strikingly powerful when well written. The performer can either work with their own experiences or with imaginary characters. Although, interestingly, the act of construction lends each autobiographical piece the appeal of fiction. It allows the performer to slightly disassociate from the emotional content of their lives. Catharsis as entertainment and a means to create understanding. One of the most potent examples of this style of solo performance was the show 'Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister', which was written by Rebecca Peyton and Martin M. Bartelt. The play recounts Rebecca's relationship with her sister, Kate Peyton who was a BBC journalist who was murdered in Somalia, whilst working. Interestingly, although I imagine that Rebecca Peyton is the only person who has performed this play in public, it could potentially be performed by anyone as the play text exists. It has an experience to share, lives to offer up for scrutiny and empathy. I saw this performance on Sunday 8th January 2012 and Rebecca Peyton chatted to the audience after the show in the bar.
To close this blog entry, it is worth considering the following statement that appears in the programme for 'The Testament of Mary', a 'Director's Note' by Deborah Warner, as it sums up the complexity of the 'solo show', both from the side of the creative participants and also the audience:
'The 'solo show' demands participation, attention, and I would argue, our preparedness to enter the event. We all know that 'live theatre' depends on the heart-beat, energy and concentration of the audience in order to make no two nights the same; but solo work makes this obvious. In these tough economic times, it may not be the worst place to come to remind ourselves of the importance and involvement that we must play as audience members in the theatre.'
(Page 11 - Deborah Warner 'Director's Note' -'The Testament of Mary' - Barbican programme)
Every solo performance is an engagement with the audience. The performers need the audience as much as we need the escapism, the opportunity to escape into someone else's life. A good solo performance leaves you with memories of time passed in the company of someone different, who has changed or challenged you in someway. A bad solo performance can sometimes seem as meaningful as the egocentric rantings of a stand-up comedian or desperate orator standing at Speakers' Corner in Hyde Park. Either way, the act of exhibitionism and revelation should be saluted, particularly when the material is personal either because the performer has written the material her or himself or else by coming into the character, they have explored aspects of their own character. Fiona Shaw achieved this and more last night and 'The Testament of Mary' deserves to be the show that everyone wants to see. Mary is renewed and the Barbican continues to be one of the most innovative producers of contemporary culture.
Barry Watt - Saturday 3rd May 2014.
Afterword
'The Testament of Mary' is currently on at the Barbican until 25th May 2014. It goes without saying that I think that you should go to see it.
The quotes in this blog entry from 'The Testament of Mary' by Colm Toibin are extracted from the Viking (Penguin) edition of the book, which was published in 2012.
The quotation from the 'Director's Note' by Deborah Warner appears in the Barbican programme for 'The Testament of Mary' which is copyright to the Barbican (and to Deborah Warner)
'Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister' by Rebecca Peyton and Martin M. Bartelt is available as a play text published by Oberon Books.
Constantin Stanislavski was a major theatre practitioner, frequently quoted as helping to create 'method acting'.
BW
Tuesday, 11 March 2014
'Nymphomaniac' - Philosophical fumblings and an antidote to the myth of Love.
I saw Lars Von Trier's 'Nymphomaniac' as two volumes on the 1st and 2nd March 2014 at the Curzon Soho. It works more effectively seen in two parts on consecutive days in a comfortable cinema. Rather amusingly the cinema chose to play music prior to the onset of the two parts of the film. Songs associated with the more extreme aspects of sex and sexual attraction. The only exception to this was the song 'Je T'aime' sung by Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg, which is striking precisely because its erotic and gentle tone is at odds with the contents of this film. As the promotional posters assert, 'Forget about love'.
'Nymphomaniac' is the story of Joe's sexual development from childhood to the point at which she is saved in an alley by a gentleman called Seligman to whom she recounts her life story back at his apartment. She is a self-confessed nymphomaniac and attends a therapy group for the condition at a certain point in the film. Joe is played by three different actresses to represent the different stages of her life. This is not as disruptive as it could have been, owing to two factors, Stacy Martin and Charlotte Gainsbourg look similar to each other and also the film's episodic structure render the characters as archetypes, they develop but their existences are about progressing the story to its inevitable end. The philosophies and ideas that underlie the film are arguably of far more importance than any particular character. Having said that as the central protagonist, the viewer does begin to empathise with Joe.
The plot device of the dialogue between Joe and Seligman in his apartment, provides a coherent structure to the narrative proceedings. Elements in Seligman's room enable Joe to contextualise her experiences, sometimes these are visual objects such as the fly (fishing hook in this context) on the wall that enables Joe to discuss her childhood in relation to fishing. Seligman helps her to analyse her experiences from different angles. The chapter headings creating the restrictions of a book. In life, we are quite often too caught up in our experiences to allow us to punctuate our experiences in this way but when we do, it does allow us to analyse them differently. We witness our own progression and/or decline with a degree of detachment. Joe's desire for sexual experience is actually no more or less pronounced than many of her contemporaries. The 'game' she plays with her friend who promises to provide a bag of chocolate sweets to whomever has sex with the greatest number of men on a train is indicative of the need to experience as much as possible by the onset of adulthood.
The men in the film are universally as interested in sex and its various forms as the women with the exception of Seligman, who almost serves the role of a Eunuch until the end. His final act and fate in the film is horribly inevitable but highlights the importance of viewing the film as a treatise on sexuality, power and gender roles rather than simply a pornographic film designed to arouse the viewer. 'Nymphomaniac' is not a film about sexual gratification. Despite the assertion that the film contains some real sexual acts (these do not take place between any of the main cast as the end credits reveal), it is far more intelligent and thought provoking than many of the Hollywood films that have touched upon the subject of sexual relationships.
However, where the film slightly fails and 'Shame', Steve McQueen's film about male sexual addiction collapses, is in their inability to face up to the possibility of sexual infections inherent within the promiscuous sexual lifestyle. Having said that, Joe does describe how she has lost the majority of her sensitivity in her genital areas and she is subject to bleeding. One of the saddest scenes in the film involves Joe being reunited with her first love, Jerome and making love with him, only to declare she couldn't feel anything. Sex outside of love becomes as meaningful as masturbation.
In its exploration of culture, patterns and power relations, 'Nymphomaniac' is a film that should be seen by anyone who has ever questioned the point of recreational sex outside of relationships and indeed, whether relationships are more enduring when they are platonic. Whether or not, you choose to see the whole film, try to see the scene when Mrs H played by Uma Thurman brings the children to see their Daddy's new lover. In a comparatively short episode, more is said about the repercussions of infidelity than in many psychological journals. It is devastating.
Barry Watt - 11th March 2014.
Afterword.
'Je T'aime... moi non plus' was written by Serge Gainsbourg and remains most well remembered for the version sung by himself and his young lover, Jane Birkin. Originally released on Fontana Records.
'Shame' was directed by Steve McQueen and stars Michael Fassbender as Brandon, a man who suffers from sexual addiction. It was released in 2011. It is worth watching in conjunction with 'Nymphomaniac'.
'Nymphomaniac' was directed by Lars Von Trier and is in all good cinemas now. It is most regularly screened as two separate volumes. Each volume is around two hours. Occasionally, the two volumes are shown consecutively.
BW
'Nymphomaniac' is the story of Joe's sexual development from childhood to the point at which she is saved in an alley by a gentleman called Seligman to whom she recounts her life story back at his apartment. She is a self-confessed nymphomaniac and attends a therapy group for the condition at a certain point in the film. Joe is played by three different actresses to represent the different stages of her life. This is not as disruptive as it could have been, owing to two factors, Stacy Martin and Charlotte Gainsbourg look similar to each other and also the film's episodic structure render the characters as archetypes, they develop but their existences are about progressing the story to its inevitable end. The philosophies and ideas that underlie the film are arguably of far more importance than any particular character. Having said that as the central protagonist, the viewer does begin to empathise with Joe.
The plot device of the dialogue between Joe and Seligman in his apartment, provides a coherent structure to the narrative proceedings. Elements in Seligman's room enable Joe to contextualise her experiences, sometimes these are visual objects such as the fly (fishing hook in this context) on the wall that enables Joe to discuss her childhood in relation to fishing. Seligman helps her to analyse her experiences from different angles. The chapter headings creating the restrictions of a book. In life, we are quite often too caught up in our experiences to allow us to punctuate our experiences in this way but when we do, it does allow us to analyse them differently. We witness our own progression and/or decline with a degree of detachment. Joe's desire for sexual experience is actually no more or less pronounced than many of her contemporaries. The 'game' she plays with her friend who promises to provide a bag of chocolate sweets to whomever has sex with the greatest number of men on a train is indicative of the need to experience as much as possible by the onset of adulthood.
The men in the film are universally as interested in sex and its various forms as the women with the exception of Seligman, who almost serves the role of a Eunuch until the end. His final act and fate in the film is horribly inevitable but highlights the importance of viewing the film as a treatise on sexuality, power and gender roles rather than simply a pornographic film designed to arouse the viewer. 'Nymphomaniac' is not a film about sexual gratification. Despite the assertion that the film contains some real sexual acts (these do not take place between any of the main cast as the end credits reveal), it is far more intelligent and thought provoking than many of the Hollywood films that have touched upon the subject of sexual relationships.
However, where the film slightly fails and 'Shame', Steve McQueen's film about male sexual addiction collapses, is in their inability to face up to the possibility of sexual infections inherent within the promiscuous sexual lifestyle. Having said that, Joe does describe how she has lost the majority of her sensitivity in her genital areas and she is subject to bleeding. One of the saddest scenes in the film involves Joe being reunited with her first love, Jerome and making love with him, only to declare she couldn't feel anything. Sex outside of love becomes as meaningful as masturbation.
In its exploration of culture, patterns and power relations, 'Nymphomaniac' is a film that should be seen by anyone who has ever questioned the point of recreational sex outside of relationships and indeed, whether relationships are more enduring when they are platonic. Whether or not, you choose to see the whole film, try to see the scene when Mrs H played by Uma Thurman brings the children to see their Daddy's new lover. In a comparatively short episode, more is said about the repercussions of infidelity than in many psychological journals. It is devastating.
Barry Watt - 11th March 2014.
Afterword.
'Je T'aime... moi non plus' was written by Serge Gainsbourg and remains most well remembered for the version sung by himself and his young lover, Jane Birkin. Originally released on Fontana Records.
'Shame' was directed by Steve McQueen and stars Michael Fassbender as Brandon, a man who suffers from sexual addiction. It was released in 2011. It is worth watching in conjunction with 'Nymphomaniac'.
'Nymphomaniac' was directed by Lars Von Trier and is in all good cinemas now. It is most regularly screened as two separate volumes. Each volume is around two hours. Occasionally, the two volumes are shown consecutively.
BW
Saturday, 8 February 2014
'Sensing Spaces: Architecture Reimagined' - Learning to see through walls.
Last Sunday, I visited the Royal Academy of Arts and saw the 'Sensing Spaces: Architecture Reimagined' exhibition. My entry time was 10.30 am and I was amazed upon showing my ticket to be told that I was 'free to take photographs'. Now I don't know if that statement has the same potency with you as it did with me. But essentially, most exhibitions vehemently enforce a strict 'no photography' policy, owing to issues such as copyright protection. Fortunately, I had my camera with me, so I wondered how viewing the exhibition from two perspectives would alter my experience. The photographer inside of me will takes photos of just about anything whereas the more demure exhibition attendee has a more fleeting eye. I can focus on things that interest me for hours but I can walk around an exhibition in a relatively quick time. My appreciation is largely based on individual works and on the essence of an exhibition. If one or two works don't appeal to me, I will accept that they exist and then move on. Essentially, I wonder whether all of life is like this, we acknowledge then accept, incorporate or reject. Our ideas grow from our engagement with the organic and inorganic world.
The exhibition focuses on seven architects and their installations. These installations are playful explorations of architecture and how it engages with the user or explorer. Light, dark and a myriad type of materials are used to engage and I guess, occasionally enrage. There is no fixed path around these installations and with one or two exceptions, you can handle the installations. Indeed, where this exhibition comes into its own is through the tensile nature of a number of these installations. Being able to feel wood beneath the tips of your fingers is like being a child again experiencing a smoothness occasionally marred by a rough patch that reminds you of the source of this bi product. As I seem to have stumbled back to Pezo Von Ellrichshausen's installation in my mind. Let's see what it looks like...
This installation engages jarringly with the existing archway that is used as an entrance and exit into one of the other galleries in the Royal Academy of Arts. It mirrors it, in a distorted manner. It is less perfect but offers a greater degree of tactile stimulation. Rubbing body parts against this rough hewn archway would be more satisfying than the original archway, it dances with esoterically.
If this use of space is highly enticing, the installation by Kengo Kuma is definitely hands off. It is a bizarre mix of bamboo (I believe?) and lighting sources that create a serene yet disconcerting experience.
I wholeheartedly recommend this exhibition if you want to re-experience the sense of childish wonderment you had and somehow had overlooked in the jagged world of adulthood. It's an exhibition, which relies on all of your senses. Each experience will be unique based on personal interests and values. One thing is certain, through shared photographs of this exhibition, it could ironically become one of the most viewed London exhibitions in time. I am glad to help with the promotion of this exhibition, which runs until the 6th April 2014.
Barry Watt - 8th February 2014.
Afterword
'Sensing Spaces: Architecture Reimagined' is at the Royal Academy of Arts in London and runs until the 6th April 2014. Please bring a camera and create your own mini works of art.
BW
The exhibition focuses on seven architects and their installations. These installations are playful explorations of architecture and how it engages with the user or explorer. Light, dark and a myriad type of materials are used to engage and I guess, occasionally enrage. There is no fixed path around these installations and with one or two exceptions, you can handle the installations. Indeed, where this exhibition comes into its own is through the tensile nature of a number of these installations. Being able to feel wood beneath the tips of your fingers is like being a child again experiencing a smoothness occasionally marred by a rough patch that reminds you of the source of this bi product. As I seem to have stumbled back to Pezo Von Ellrichshausen's installation in my mind. Let's see what it looks like...
Amazingly, this bizarre temple like structure could be climbed and you could stand on the roof gazing at the Royal Academy of Arts and the wonderful angels that guard its skylights. Indeed, the work becomes a celebration of the weather. I can imagine how emotionally affective this work would be in all weather conditions. To stand on the roof, staring at the sky as rain drops splatter against glass would be something to behold.
Continuing my journey around the exhibition retrospectively, I stumble upon the archway of Eduardo Souto De Moura.
This installation engages jarringly with the existing archway that is used as an entrance and exit into one of the other galleries in the Royal Academy of Arts. It mirrors it, in a distorted manner. It is less perfect but offers a greater degree of tactile stimulation. Rubbing body parts against this rough hewn archway would be more satisfying than the original archway, it dances with esoterically.
If this use of space is highly enticing, the installation by Kengo Kuma is definitely hands off. It is a bizarre mix of bamboo (I believe?) and lighting sources that create a serene yet disconcerting experience.
Strangely organic, the bamboo weaves in its distorted fashion to the ceiling then back to the floor. The visitor disorientated by a constant need to rediscover his/her footing. Multiple lights like stars punctuating an arterial system.
In contrast, Li Xiaodong's maze like installation also brings to mind, memories of libraries and archives. Silent places of reflection and the accumulation of knowledge.
In the second photo, you clearly see someone's feet. For some reason, one visitor chose to be photographed laying down as though dead or in a state of perpetual slumber and to be photographed. Something about the atmosphere of this space must have overcome him. It also included mirrors and as I have an aversion to my own reflection, I chose to capture it again for prosperity.
The Grafton Architects' installation was somewhat more subdued. Yet no less impressive. The light more striking in its piercing attack upon the darkness.
Light has an almost erotic thrill in the midst of darkness. It represents escape and a space beyond. A change of perspective.
Possibly, the most engaging installation for most visitors to the exhibition would be the one provided by Diébédo Francis Kéré. It is essentially a tunnel that you are invited to penetrate, pierce or adorn with long plastic straws. A truly immersive experience and which will become increasingly more amazing as the exhibition continues.
Something about this work is inspirational to families and may hold the key to the housing problem. If you can encourage people to stick straws into a bizarre tunnel like construct, why not provide the materials for families to build their own properties? Self build housing is the way forward. As a sentimentalist, I enjoyed watching everyone poking and proding away with their plastic straws (well, that's what they looked like!) The children and adults working imaginatively to create their own miniature works of art within the greater whole. For example, please see the intricate hive structure someone created above.
As I left the exhibition, I was left with a positive feeling and once again, I found myself more aware of the architecture surrounding me. I also saw the final installation, which exists just outside the Royal Academy of Arts by Alvaro Siza. Not much to say about this one. It's more of a visual tease for the delights inside, a column evoking future pleasures in the courtyard where I also became overwhelmed by a bizarre work of art in the making in a flower pot of all places.
I wholeheartedly recommend this exhibition if you want to re-experience the sense of childish wonderment you had and somehow had overlooked in the jagged world of adulthood. It's an exhibition, which relies on all of your senses. Each experience will be unique based on personal interests and values. One thing is certain, through shared photographs of this exhibition, it could ironically become one of the most viewed London exhibitions in time. I am glad to help with the promotion of this exhibition, which runs until the 6th April 2014.
Barry Watt - 8th February 2014.
Afterword
'Sensing Spaces: Architecture Reimagined' is at the Royal Academy of Arts in London and runs until the 6th April 2014. Please bring a camera and create your own mini works of art.
BW
Sunday, 26 January 2014
'Inside Llewyn Davis' - The Karmic Circle begins and ends with a Cat.
'Inside Llewyn Davis' is the latest film by the Coen Brothers and is set during the early 60s. It tells the story of a folk singer called Llewyn Davis as he struggles to make it in the Greenwich Village folk scene. It is a film about continuing to endure even when everything is stacked against you and it is more importantly, the best film about cats you will ever see.
The film throws in several references to the establishments that proved so influential in the lives of the many folk singers who dominated the Greenwich Village scene. As such, the Gaslight Café features prominently in the film and indeed, a little known (at that point) singer who is humorously referred to as 'Young Bob' in the end credits is heard in the distance when Llewyn Davis leaves the Café at the beginning of the film and features at the end of the film. The film is structured around this one sequence at the Gaslight Café in 1961, which is a springboard for one of the two performers and effectively, potentially the last stand of the other performer. The Kettle of Fish is also featured. This was another venue where folk performers sang located in the same building as the Gaslight Café.
In many respects, Llewyn Davis' life bears more than a little resemblance to Dylan's early life. Dylan in his early years was known to crash at various friends' apartments, borrowing records and generally not settling down. But if we consider the fact that many of the Greenwich Village venues did not pay a regular wage to their performers and instead, after each set the performers handed around a hat or basket in the hope that the audience would give them enough money to survive, it is not surprising that many singer/songwriters were poor. Another parallel concerns Llewyn Davis' decision to take part as a session musician for an appalling novelty song with a slight protest angle called 'Please Mr Kennedy' requesting that he not be sent into space and to take a one off payment for his work rather than royalties. The difference being that Dylan's session work enabled him to make further contacts even where the financial recuperation was minimal.
In many respects, this film offers a darker view of the folk scene than the stories that are fed into the mainstream culture. Regularly, one is led to believe that the folk scene was all sweetness and light. Handholding and community singing. Beautiful people singing their traditional songs and songs that they had adapted from these songs. This film reveals a world where singer/songwriters are regularly doomed to produce one song, which is subsequently deleted and forgotten. Llewyn Davis is a victim of this situation, one part of a group that disbanded not through internal battles but because his partner had committed suicide. He is stuck with the product of this union, a song called 'If We Had Wings' (adapted to 'If I Had Wings' when he sings this song alone in the Gaslight Café) and is struggling frantically to be accepted as a solo artist that Bud Grossman deems as 'uncommercial' after hearing one of his songs (Bud Grossman is almost Albert Grossman, who later became Dylan's producer). The failures in the folk scene are rarely mentioned unless their failure is linked to drug abuse or decadent acts. Indeed, the sadness that pervades this film stems from that fact. Who remembers you when you are no longer popular?
As an aside about this film, you cannot consider it outside of the context of the cats that cross the path of Llewyn Davis. If ever, there is an animal that symbolises his character, it's a cat. The cat represents his fickle nature and his promiscuity. It also acts as a substitute child for him. The effort he makes to find cats at various points in the film is touching. Also he hits a cat at one point by accident and he leaves the car to find the cat. In the saddest sequence, he witnesses the cat as it leaves the road and crawls into some trees, presumably to recover or to die in peace. He returns to the car.
'Inside Llewyn Davis' is a film about karma, fate, failure and struggling to succeed. Llewyn Davis has an inflated sense of his own self importance highlighted during the scene when he heckles another performer finally aware that he is marking time and doesn't have enough material to truly impact upon the scene. His relationship with Jean played by Carey Mulligan who screams that he should wear 'double condoms' to prevent any other woman from getting pregnant is revealed to have been one of many relationships which has gone wrong. He is not a bad person, just a victim of his own ambitions. He suffers because he makes others suffer. It's a film to see for a view of the 60s which is not tainted by the illusions of 'Flower Power' and the cosy idealism regularly associated with the folk scene. If you have never felt like Llewyn Davis, you have never lived.
Barry Watt - 26th January 2014.
Afterword
'Inside Llewyn Davis' is in all good cinemas now. The Coen Brothers have another hit on their hand.
BW
The film throws in several references to the establishments that proved so influential in the lives of the many folk singers who dominated the Greenwich Village scene. As such, the Gaslight Café features prominently in the film and indeed, a little known (at that point) singer who is humorously referred to as 'Young Bob' in the end credits is heard in the distance when Llewyn Davis leaves the Café at the beginning of the film and features at the end of the film. The film is structured around this one sequence at the Gaslight Café in 1961, which is a springboard for one of the two performers and effectively, potentially the last stand of the other performer. The Kettle of Fish is also featured. This was another venue where folk performers sang located in the same building as the Gaslight Café.
In many respects, Llewyn Davis' life bears more than a little resemblance to Dylan's early life. Dylan in his early years was known to crash at various friends' apartments, borrowing records and generally not settling down. But if we consider the fact that many of the Greenwich Village venues did not pay a regular wage to their performers and instead, after each set the performers handed around a hat or basket in the hope that the audience would give them enough money to survive, it is not surprising that many singer/songwriters were poor. Another parallel concerns Llewyn Davis' decision to take part as a session musician for an appalling novelty song with a slight protest angle called 'Please Mr Kennedy' requesting that he not be sent into space and to take a one off payment for his work rather than royalties. The difference being that Dylan's session work enabled him to make further contacts even where the financial recuperation was minimal.
In many respects, this film offers a darker view of the folk scene than the stories that are fed into the mainstream culture. Regularly, one is led to believe that the folk scene was all sweetness and light. Handholding and community singing. Beautiful people singing their traditional songs and songs that they had adapted from these songs. This film reveals a world where singer/songwriters are regularly doomed to produce one song, which is subsequently deleted and forgotten. Llewyn Davis is a victim of this situation, one part of a group that disbanded not through internal battles but because his partner had committed suicide. He is stuck with the product of this union, a song called 'If We Had Wings' (adapted to 'If I Had Wings' when he sings this song alone in the Gaslight Café) and is struggling frantically to be accepted as a solo artist that Bud Grossman deems as 'uncommercial' after hearing one of his songs (Bud Grossman is almost Albert Grossman, who later became Dylan's producer). The failures in the folk scene are rarely mentioned unless their failure is linked to drug abuse or decadent acts. Indeed, the sadness that pervades this film stems from that fact. Who remembers you when you are no longer popular?
As an aside about this film, you cannot consider it outside of the context of the cats that cross the path of Llewyn Davis. If ever, there is an animal that symbolises his character, it's a cat. The cat represents his fickle nature and his promiscuity. It also acts as a substitute child for him. The effort he makes to find cats at various points in the film is touching. Also he hits a cat at one point by accident and he leaves the car to find the cat. In the saddest sequence, he witnesses the cat as it leaves the road and crawls into some trees, presumably to recover or to die in peace. He returns to the car.
'Inside Llewyn Davis' is a film about karma, fate, failure and struggling to succeed. Llewyn Davis has an inflated sense of his own self importance highlighted during the scene when he heckles another performer finally aware that he is marking time and doesn't have enough material to truly impact upon the scene. His relationship with Jean played by Carey Mulligan who screams that he should wear 'double condoms' to prevent any other woman from getting pregnant is revealed to have been one of many relationships which has gone wrong. He is not a bad person, just a victim of his own ambitions. He suffers because he makes others suffer. It's a film to see for a view of the 60s which is not tainted by the illusions of 'Flower Power' and the cosy idealism regularly associated with the folk scene. If you have never felt like Llewyn Davis, you have never lived.
Barry Watt - 26th January 2014.
Afterword
'Inside Llewyn Davis' is in all good cinemas now. The Coen Brothers have another hit on their hand.
BW
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)