Aquatopia is the new show at Nottingham Contemporary Art Gallery (locally known as 'tempreh). The subtitle of the show is 'The Imaginary of the Ocean Deep', and to be honest I think it is one of the BEST shows that the gallery has done.
What I think I like about it most is that it combines contemporary art with historical material - putting things into context.
It's also a dense show - the galleries feel FULL: and in a white space, all too often the shows have felt thin, feeble, scarcely enough content to fill one room let alone four.
So we get a show juxtaposing Turner's sea monsters alongside Odilon Redon's illustrative visions; we get sea squids of various shapes, sizes and textures (including Spartacus Chetwynd's disconcerting 'enactment' of Hokusai's "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife", itself a pretty alarming set of imagery), and we get the smooth sculptural flows of Hepworth sat just opposite a 19th century diving helmet. You get to see Marcel Broodthaer's mussel shells and various of Christian Holstad's sea-squid 'creations' draped around the gallery ---- each called "This is not a life-saving device". Well indeed.
To accompany the show there is also the usual variety of talks and other events - films screenings, discussions, documentary presentations, workshops etc. Everything from the Lovecraftian legends to viewing the deep sea world, Hollywood B-movie sea monsters to ocean soundscapes.
It's a bizarre show in many ways - especially in land-locked Nottingham - but it's worth catching here. For those who want a more 'apt' setting, an expanded version will be shown at Tate St Ives later in the year.
You should come to 'tempreh.
And at least I have broken the bad pattern of not blogging. I'm getting rubbish at this aren't I though?!
Showing posts with label Nottingham. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nottingham. Show all posts
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Friday, April 05, 2013
A New Bourne Identity: A ballet Review for Sleeping Beauty @ Nottingham Theatre Royal, Wednesday 3 April 2013
With a friend working in the world of theatre, I've known for many years of the brilliance of Matthew Bourne's dancing and dance companies. Yet somehow, despite having done ballet briefly as a child, I'd never actually been to see a ballet on stage.
Sure, I'd watched my fair share on TV, and *adored* the TV series 'The Agony and the Ecstasy' that focused on the English National Ballet company.
But Matthew Bourne's 'New Adventures' production of Sleeping Beauty: A Gothic Romance was my first live ballet. Well: if you're gonna start late, start at the top.
Sumptuous hardly covers how beautiful this production actually is - the costumes are spectacular and the colours of the costumes alone were a feast for the senses. (I definitely wanted to raid the wardrobe room several times over - fairy frocks, elegant Edwardian dresses, dramatic red coats). The sets and backdrops are also superb. Sunsets over grand houses, statues, wrought iron gates, bedsteads from a by-gone era: all created with such attention to detail you wanted to walk - or rather dance - among them.
We were lucky enough to have Hannah Vassallo as Aurora and Chris Trenfield as Leo, and they were ably supported by the rest of the cast, including a terrifying performance in the role of the dark fairy Carabosse (and as her son Caradoc) by - I believe - Adam Maskell on the night I saw it (The cast obviously rotates and I stupidly forgot to note the casting for Wednesday). The dancing was breathtaking - such variety of styles, movements, leaps and grace.
So: I loved it. It was the most magical experience I could have hoped for and I felt electrified by everything about the show. The show tours on to Wimbledon, Liverpool and Bristol after it finishes at Nottingham tomorrow, but I would have to say that unless you've already booked, you're unlikely to get a ticket. It was PACKED at Nottingham. Look out for future performances.
Final note: music and audiences
Whilst to my left I had the most lovely elderly lady with some of her family, on my right I had Mr Grump of Grumpsville who persisted in complaining about how loud the pre-recorded music was for the production. He insisted on bending my ear at the start and end of the interval about how unnecessarily loud it was and how he had complained to no avail about the sound levels. I get that everyone has varying degrees of sensitivity to noise and crescendos (he already had earplugs in), and he was clearly very unhappy about it. But as a note to future visitors to anything, please do not feel that you have a divine right to everyone agreeing with you. It was ultimately exhausting to try the 'smiling and not really nodding' to this gentleman who clearly thought the sound was so obviously a problem that it was inconceivable that anyone would not feel the same way.
Oh yes, and whilst we are on the topic of irks, can people please SHUT UP when the show is underway? I don't need your running commentary conversation with your friend about the show drifting across the rows into my ears. That was far more of a problem in the first half than the music levels ever were!
Sure, I'd watched my fair share on TV, and *adored* the TV series 'The Agony and the Ecstasy' that focused on the English National Ballet company.
But Matthew Bourne's 'New Adventures' production of Sleeping Beauty: A Gothic Romance was my first live ballet. Well: if you're gonna start late, start at the top.
It's beautiful music (more on that later), the dancing was bound to be sublime, and the setting (Gothic!) promised everything I could want to see. You can get a flavour from this promotional video.
Sumptuous hardly covers how beautiful this production actually is - the costumes are spectacular and the colours of the costumes alone were a feast for the senses. (I definitely wanted to raid the wardrobe room several times over - fairy frocks, elegant Edwardian dresses, dramatic red coats). The sets and backdrops are also superb. Sunsets over grand houses, statues, wrought iron gates, bedsteads from a by-gone era: all created with such attention to detail you wanted to walk - or rather dance - among them.
We were lucky enough to have Hannah Vassallo as Aurora and Chris Trenfield as Leo, and they were ably supported by the rest of the cast, including a terrifying performance in the role of the dark fairy Carabosse (and as her son Caradoc) by - I believe - Adam Maskell on the night I saw it (The cast obviously rotates and I stupidly forgot to note the casting for Wednesday). The dancing was breathtaking - such variety of styles, movements, leaps and grace.
So: I loved it. It was the most magical experience I could have hoped for and I felt electrified by everything about the show. The show tours on to Wimbledon, Liverpool and Bristol after it finishes at Nottingham tomorrow, but I would have to say that unless you've already booked, you're unlikely to get a ticket. It was PACKED at Nottingham. Look out for future performances.
Final note: music and audiences
Whilst to my left I had the most lovely elderly lady with some of her family, on my right I had Mr Grump of Grumpsville who persisted in complaining about how loud the pre-recorded music was for the production. He insisted on bending my ear at the start and end of the interval about how unnecessarily loud it was and how he had complained to no avail about the sound levels. I get that everyone has varying degrees of sensitivity to noise and crescendos (he already had earplugs in), and he was clearly very unhappy about it. But as a note to future visitors to anything, please do not feel that you have a divine right to everyone agreeing with you. It was ultimately exhausting to try the 'smiling and not really nodding' to this gentleman who clearly thought the sound was so obviously a problem that it was inconceivable that anyone would not feel the same way.
Oh yes, and whilst we are on the topic of irks, can people please SHUT UP when the show is underway? I don't need your running commentary conversation with your friend about the show drifting across the rows into my ears. That was far more of a problem in the first half than the music levels ever were!
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Diary of a Football Nobody - by William Ivory: Saturday 13 October 2012 (matinee) @ Nottingham Playhouse
Diary of a Football Nobody is a remarkably touching - if VERY sweary* - play about Notts County Football Club and much more.
The play is adapted by William Ivory from David McVay's memoir Steak...Diana Ross: Diary of a Football Nobody (and Ivory was in the Cast bar at the Playhouse ahead of the play - no, we didn't bother him).
It's a very parochial play - for all the life-affirming stuff and context which speaks to community, family life, education and employment - the play is shot through with a vein of Nott'um nostalgia and reference points that would probably be lost on anyone lacking experience/awareness of Nottingham either past and/or present. The play - for all it's brilliance - is unlikely to travel far (heck, getting beyond the boundaries of Nottingham would be difficult and as the likes of Bingham and Mansfield come in for flack, alongside the inevitable loathing for Derby and Nottingham Forest, I can barely see it travelling into Nottinghamshire).
But it IS brilliant. I mentioned before the life-affirming stuff, and that is something that moves this play beyond JUST being about football, to highlighting that "Football isn't a matter of life and death - it is much LESS important than that". This play shows that human beings play football: people with lives and families, lusts and foibles. Too much Shippo beer, too many women, too much distraction from the people around us. But in representing an age when a football player could achieve the giddy heights of earning so much as to have had to be a 'Foreman at Raleigh' to match their financial power, it's a wonderful reminder of how football has changed.
The music in the play is deftly chosen - from the obvious pop chart stuff to the delicacy of Nick Drake. It's a beautiful evocation of period, place and people (anyone with memories - first or second-hand acquired - of those days of County 'stars' will chuckle at the representations. The staging is like Roy of Rovers come to life in graphic tone, and the comic-book realism suits the recollections it presents. There's little in the way of fancy, the imagery of Nottingham is lightly used, and the most technical most involves a short use of wires which draws spontaneous applause from a delighted audience.
And all this is topped by the generous and heartfelt performances: Eric Richard is especially good as Jimmy Sirrel and our lead, Perry Fitzpatrick as Dave McVay is by turns baffled, distressed and desperately trying to have a good time being a footballer with A-levels.
LeftLion like it - of course they do. It's only on for another week. Get there if you're in the locality.
*It would be ridiculous if it was non-sweary (does anyone alive think football and its milieu was NOT sweary in the 1970s?) But nice that the sexism, racism and homophobia is largely dropped. You can be too honest...
The play is adapted by William Ivory from David McVay's memoir Steak...Diana Ross: Diary of a Football Nobody (and Ivory was in the Cast bar at the Playhouse ahead of the play - no, we didn't bother him).
It's a very parochial play - for all the life-affirming stuff and context which speaks to community, family life, education and employment - the play is shot through with a vein of Nott'um nostalgia and reference points that would probably be lost on anyone lacking experience/awareness of Nottingham either past and/or present. The play - for all it's brilliance - is unlikely to travel far (heck, getting beyond the boundaries of Nottingham would be difficult and as the likes of Bingham and Mansfield come in for flack, alongside the inevitable loathing for Derby and Nottingham Forest, I can barely see it travelling into Nottinghamshire).
But it IS brilliant. I mentioned before the life-affirming stuff, and that is something that moves this play beyond JUST being about football, to highlighting that "Football isn't a matter of life and death - it is much LESS important than that". This play shows that human beings play football: people with lives and families, lusts and foibles. Too much Shippo beer, too many women, too much distraction from the people around us. But in representing an age when a football player could achieve the giddy heights of earning so much as to have had to be a 'Foreman at Raleigh' to match their financial power, it's a wonderful reminder of how football has changed.
The music in the play is deftly chosen - from the obvious pop chart stuff to the delicacy of Nick Drake. It's a beautiful evocation of period, place and people (anyone with memories - first or second-hand acquired - of those days of County 'stars' will chuckle at the representations. The staging is like Roy of Rovers come to life in graphic tone, and the comic-book realism suits the recollections it presents. There's little in the way of fancy, the imagery of Nottingham is lightly used, and the most technical most involves a short use of wires which draws spontaneous applause from a delighted audience.
And all this is topped by the generous and heartfelt performances: Eric Richard is especially good as Jimmy Sirrel and our lead, Perry Fitzpatrick as Dave McVay is by turns baffled, distressed and desperately trying to have a good time being a footballer with A-levels.
LeftLion like it - of course they do. It's only on for another week. Get there if you're in the locality.
*It would be ridiculous if it was non-sweary (does anyone alive think football and its milieu was NOT sweary in the 1970s?) But nice that the sexism, racism and homophobia is largely dropped. You can be too honest...
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Art reviews: Rashid Rana "Everything is Happening at Once" and DAAR "Common Assembly" / Thomas Demand "Model Studies"
Yesterday was 'an art day'. Neil and I took in two exhibitions (well, sort-off three: but the Nottingham Contemporary Gallery almost always double-banks its exhibitions with some 'tenuous' link).
To start with it was super-rainy. The excuse of staying for coffee at the Nottingham Art Exchange in Hyson Green (my old childhood stomping ground) was mostly on the grounds that outside was torrential rain. Besides, they do nice coffee and the space is always inviting to sit in.
Anyway, we needed time to digest the beauty of the exhibition we had just seen there: Rashid Rana's incredible and breathtaking "Everything is Happening at Once" (1).
It is a brilliant, disturbing and visually entrancing exhibition, with works predominantly constructed from multiple small images: sometimes these are at odds with their apparent content, other times the large is constructed from the small.
The thing is that photographs can never do justice to this type of work, not least because they can never capture the physical experience of standing in front of them, moving around - close, further away - that brings the images in and out of focus, alerting the viewer to the construction of imagery and the undermining of meaning.
For those worried that this is sounds rather like giant optical illusions, somewhat akin to those immensely irritating early 1990s Magic Eye 3-D images (2), be not afraid. These are so much more rewarding. The reflective surfaces of 'Desperately seeking paradise II" (2010-11) that greet the visitor as they enter the central gallery, start to turn into an image, and at close proximity you realise the tiny images at the heart of the whole: small photographs of housing in Lahore. As you step further and further away from the entrance, the reflective surfaces disappear completely and the overpowering obsessive detail in each small photograph is taken over by the realisation that the whole is even greater than the sum of its parts: a immense skyline of skyscrapers - at odds with the small domesticity of low-level housing in the individual pictures.
Another work, 'Dis-location I' (2007) is constructed from around 45000 individual pictures taken of the same building over 24 hours, to make a whole image of that building, a colonial building: sometimes people intrude to the left, right and centre of the individual frames, but the building - solid, non-transitory - appears static in the bigger picture. The flux of time and space: I cannot think why this exhibition appealed to me.
Upstairs, there are warnings about "imagery of an adult nature": the series 'What Lies Between Flesh and Blood' presents Rothko-esque images constructed of images of 'flesh' and 'blood' garnered from multiple sources. But these lead into more discomforting images. 'Red Carpet' (2007) creates the sumptuous qualities of a fine Persian carpet from multiple images of a slaughter-house. At close range, the spatter of blood is disconcerting: at even a couple of feet away, such details of 'reality' are lost to the overall pattern.
I suspect though that Veil VI is the real reason for the warnings: a row of women dressed in full-veil clothing, barely individuated in their similarity, is made up from their equally un-individuated Western counterparts from Pr0nographic imagery. It is simultaneously simple (simplistic) and disturbing. Again, the disjunction of part and whole - East and West - are blurred and critiqued.
After that, Nottingham Contemporary had a tough job to pull off a comparable reaction from me. And although it had elements of the fascinating, nothing quite touched me in the same way.
As is common with Nottingham Contemporary, the space often brings together two artists/collectives/themes. In this case, it is architecture. Thomas Demand discovered the archive of John Lautner at the Getty Research Institute, Los Angeles.
Ahem.
Anyway. Demand usually creates his own models of architectural space, but destroys them once they are photographed. Here (thankfully) the urge to destroy is resisted, but Demand lends to his often super-close-up images of Lautner's modernist architectural models a sense of capturing an entire history of both modernism and architectural form. There is a weird beauty to it, but the images appear a little 'dead' after a while amidst them, in a way one hopes a visitor does not feel in Lautner's own spaces.
The other 'half' of the exhibition is both more explicitly architectural and yet more divorced from the reality of architecture.
Decolonizing Architecture/Art Residency (DAAR) is an art and architecture collective set up by Alessandro Petti, Sandi Hilal and Eyal Weizman, based in Palestine. Through videos, proposed architectural interventions, explorations of contested spaces and buildings (crucially the ill-fated and ill-located Palestinian Parliament), DAAR challenge the dispassionate modernism of Lautner and Demand to highlight how space and the buildings that occupy it, the lines that draw it, and the laws that enable it are sites of more than just creative practice.
It is intellectually interesting, but I felt rather like I have in the past when viewing Martha Rosler's work: it stimulates my brain, my politics and my sensibilities, but I don't necessarily feel creatively connected to it. I think this may be my flaw.
So it was very much an art day, even though the experiences seemed to move further away from an integration of creativity in the world to an analysis of the difficulties of bringing the creative into a fragmented inhabited space in 'the real world'.
(1) Yes, my inner nerd alarm did go off as I thought about "all of history happening at once" in the Doctor Who season fnarg plus 1 finale "The Wedding of River Song".
(2) Irritating because I could NEVER 'see' diddly with these darned Magic Eye things and merely got irked by the hours wasted in pursuit of the un-seeable.
To start with it was super-rainy. The excuse of staying for coffee at the Nottingham Art Exchange in Hyson Green (my old childhood stomping ground) was mostly on the grounds that outside was torrential rain. Besides, they do nice coffee and the space is always inviting to sit in.
Anyway, we needed time to digest the beauty of the exhibition we had just seen there: Rashid Rana's incredible and breathtaking "Everything is Happening at Once" (1).
It is a brilliant, disturbing and visually entrancing exhibition, with works predominantly constructed from multiple small images: sometimes these are at odds with their apparent content, other times the large is constructed from the small.
The thing is that photographs can never do justice to this type of work, not least because they can never capture the physical experience of standing in front of them, moving around - close, further away - that brings the images in and out of focus, alerting the viewer to the construction of imagery and the undermining of meaning.
For those worried that this is sounds rather like giant optical illusions, somewhat akin to those immensely irritating early 1990s Magic Eye 3-D images (2), be not afraid. These are so much more rewarding. The reflective surfaces of 'Desperately seeking paradise II" (2010-11) that greet the visitor as they enter the central gallery, start to turn into an image, and at close proximity you realise the tiny images at the heart of the whole: small photographs of housing in Lahore. As you step further and further away from the entrance, the reflective surfaces disappear completely and the overpowering obsessive detail in each small photograph is taken over by the realisation that the whole is even greater than the sum of its parts: a immense skyline of skyscrapers - at odds with the small domesticity of low-level housing in the individual pictures.
Another work, 'Dis-location I' (2007) is constructed from around 45000 individual pictures taken of the same building over 24 hours, to make a whole image of that building, a colonial building: sometimes people intrude to the left, right and centre of the individual frames, but the building - solid, non-transitory - appears static in the bigger picture. The flux of time and space: I cannot think why this exhibition appealed to me.
Upstairs, there are warnings about "imagery of an adult nature": the series 'What Lies Between Flesh and Blood' presents Rothko-esque images constructed of images of 'flesh' and 'blood' garnered from multiple sources. But these lead into more discomforting images. 'Red Carpet' (2007) creates the sumptuous qualities of a fine Persian carpet from multiple images of a slaughter-house. At close range, the spatter of blood is disconcerting: at even a couple of feet away, such details of 'reality' are lost to the overall pattern.
I suspect though that Veil VI is the real reason for the warnings: a row of women dressed in full-veil clothing, barely individuated in their similarity, is made up from their equally un-individuated Western counterparts from Pr0nographic imagery. It is simultaneously simple (simplistic) and disturbing. Again, the disjunction of part and whole - East and West - are blurred and critiqued.
After that, Nottingham Contemporary had a tough job to pull off a comparable reaction from me. And although it had elements of the fascinating, nothing quite touched me in the same way.
As is common with Nottingham Contemporary, the space often brings together two artists/collectives/themes. In this case, it is architecture. Thomas Demand discovered the archive of John Lautner at the Getty Research Institute, Los Angeles.
(Sorry: cannot help myself - BEEN THERE!)
Ahem.
Anyway. Demand usually creates his own models of architectural space, but destroys them once they are photographed. Here (thankfully) the urge to destroy is resisted, but Demand lends to his often super-close-up images of Lautner's modernist architectural models a sense of capturing an entire history of both modernism and architectural form. There is a weird beauty to it, but the images appear a little 'dead' after a while amidst them, in a way one hopes a visitor does not feel in Lautner's own spaces.
The other 'half' of the exhibition is both more explicitly architectural and yet more divorced from the reality of architecture.
Decolonizing Architecture/Art Residency (DAAR) is an art and architecture collective set up by Alessandro Petti, Sandi Hilal and Eyal Weizman, based in Palestine. Through videos, proposed architectural interventions, explorations of contested spaces and buildings (crucially the ill-fated and ill-located Palestinian Parliament), DAAR challenge the dispassionate modernism of Lautner and Demand to highlight how space and the buildings that occupy it, the lines that draw it, and the laws that enable it are sites of more than just creative practice.
It is intellectually interesting, but I felt rather like I have in the past when viewing Martha Rosler's work: it stimulates my brain, my politics and my sensibilities, but I don't necessarily feel creatively connected to it. I think this may be my flaw.
So it was very much an art day, even though the experiences seemed to move further away from an integration of creativity in the world to an analysis of the difficulties of bringing the creative into a fragmented inhabited space in 'the real world'.
(1) Yes, my inner nerd alarm did go off as I thought about "all of history happening at once" in the Doctor Who season fnarg plus 1 finale "The Wedding of River Song".
(2) Irritating because I could NEVER 'see' diddly with these darned Magic Eye things and merely got irked by the hours wasted in pursuit of the un-seeable.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Theatre Review: The League of Youth - Ibsen @ Nottingham Playhouse Wednesday 18 May 2011
The League of Youth is an early work by Ibsen, and is currently being staged by Nottingham Playhouse. I'd certainly recommend this production and it was nice to come home after the play to catch up on the Guardian review for it.
It was a shame that the audience for this wasn't larger: given the canny use the production makes of extras scattered in the auditorium who join in and are enthused by the politicking on stage, there was a danger that the number of bodies onstage would outnumber the audience. They're missing a treat though, and as the play runs until 1 June, I certainly urge a visit (and someone to pick this up for a run eleswhere).
It's also a very timely play, as for all the specificity of Norwegian politics, its resonances are very notable. Not only politician's general 'swayed by the circumstances, protecting their own' but also a fine attack on 'liberals' and sexual/gender power.
Elegantly staged and undoubtedly funny: go and enjoy!
Reviews:
Left Lion Review
WhatsonStage review
It was a shame that the audience for this wasn't larger: given the canny use the production makes of extras scattered in the auditorium who join in and are enthused by the politicking on stage, there was a danger that the number of bodies onstage would outnumber the audience. They're missing a treat though, and as the play runs until 1 June, I certainly urge a visit (and someone to pick this up for a run eleswhere).
It's also a very timely play, as for all the specificity of Norwegian politics, its resonances are very notable. Not only politician's general 'swayed by the circumstances, protecting their own' but also a fine attack on 'liberals' and sexual/gender power.
Elegantly staged and undoubtedly funny: go and enjoy!
Reviews:
Left Lion Review
WhatsonStage review
Friday, December 03, 2010
Live Music Review: Thursday 2 December 2010 - Bill Bragg, Rock City Nottingham
Swiss Toni got in ahead of me with a great review of Billy Bragg from last night (hello! sorry I was not confident enough to say hi!)
Good job that I read ST's first, or I would have been spitting even more feathers for reading the miserable f***ing review from This is Nottingham. Thanks for nothing Mr Belbin.
I mean, come on: we walk in as Billy Bragg takes the stage and he does 'The World Turned Upside Down' (a song which always brings a tear to my eye) and he ends on the mass Rock City choral version of 'A New England' (the guy never has to sing the words to that ever again: it is truly a modern standard, sung with passion and verve by every Bragg audience I have ever been in).
Because to criticise Bragg for talking is to miss the point: he's a political and social raconteur as much as a musician/songwriter. Those who go expecting 'only the songs' have probably largely missed the point OF those songs. Bragg teased us for being "softies", for responding so fondly to his more romantic balladeering (and he is indeed a fine balladeer), but Bragg is what he is in all his guises because of his politics, his opinions, his talking --- and that means that his love songs reflect the anguish of trying to reconcile social realities with ideals.
Of course, there are always people who go to any gig expecting to simply hear albums/songs - bizarrely, there are also people who seem to want to talk all the time, AND complain about Bragg talking.* I'm a bit baffled by such people: why are they at a gig? Why not play your selected tracks/preferences at home? Talking is part of the Bragg package: love it or loath it, he ain't going to do it differently. He's notorious for it, and as he noted last night, he can't help himself - especially when he's enjoying a gig so much. And frankly, you do have to wonder about people attending who are not only anti-Bragg talking, but especially about WHAT he talks about: how have they missed noticing/appreciating Bragg's political standpoint. Again, as noted, they're integral to him as a performer. But it is important to note that any complainants appeared to be a very small number last night.
And Bragg can stir a crowd so effectively: on topics as connected as the Nottingham University sit-in to campaign against student fee rises, to the problems of cynicism on challenging social problems (and on that note: all hail the dense pedantry of Belbin for sticking to the ancient Greek - and now scarcely comprehended - definition of Cynicism rather than the widely accepted and understood modern definition. We get you can wiki google the original concept: very impressive. Not.)
Members of the audience may have worried about getting buses home due to the weather, and may have urged Bragg to "talk less, sing more!" but I never got the sense that this was delivered with anger: Bragg instead acknowledged it was a reasonable request in light of the context (after all, he started at 8.20pm - and not just because there was a disco immediately afterwards) and then Bragg moved on. There was still talking from the Braggmeister, but I didn't get the sense of a rising tide of anger at him still talking. He was taken to task for his own errors - to which he freely admitted ("I supported Tony Blair in 1997 and voted Lib-Dem in the last election to keep the Conservatives out: if anyone has a right to be cynical..."). But this was an audience that sang with gusto to 'There is a Power in a Union' - for surely in the current climate it has never been more vital to support collective action and challenges to rampant Conservative cuts. It wasn't just about the love songs and wearied reactions to Bragg's polemic exhortations: 'To have and have not' was equally rapturously received.
Anyway, it was as ever a delightful and uplifting gig and I was personally delighted that Bragg performed several of the songs from Pressure Drop, the performance event that ran in London (but which we unfortunately missed). I'm looking forward to playing that CD soon.
It's always worth seeing Bragg: and given how much he likes Nottingham, he's sure to be back soon. We need him more than ever.
* I did my bit to challenge the 'coming to gigs to talk' mentality and kindly asked a couple of guys who had failed to read all our intensive disapproving glaring to please be quiet so we could hear what Bragg was singing/talking about. They at least didn't get worse or throw beer at me... A small triumph.
Good job that I read ST's first, or I would have been spitting even more feathers for reading the miserable f***ing review from This is Nottingham. Thanks for nothing Mr Belbin.
I mean, come on: we walk in as Billy Bragg takes the stage and he does 'The World Turned Upside Down' (a song which always brings a tear to my eye) and he ends on the mass Rock City choral version of 'A New England' (the guy never has to sing the words to that ever again: it is truly a modern standard, sung with passion and verve by every Bragg audience I have ever been in).
Because to criticise Bragg for talking is to miss the point: he's a political and social raconteur as much as a musician/songwriter. Those who go expecting 'only the songs' have probably largely missed the point OF those songs. Bragg teased us for being "softies", for responding so fondly to his more romantic balladeering (and he is indeed a fine balladeer), but Bragg is what he is in all his guises because of his politics, his opinions, his talking --- and that means that his love songs reflect the anguish of trying to reconcile social realities with ideals.
Of course, there are always people who go to any gig expecting to simply hear albums/songs - bizarrely, there are also people who seem to want to talk all the time, AND complain about Bragg talking.* I'm a bit baffled by such people: why are they at a gig? Why not play your selected tracks/preferences at home? Talking is part of the Bragg package: love it or loath it, he ain't going to do it differently. He's notorious for it, and as he noted last night, he can't help himself - especially when he's enjoying a gig so much. And frankly, you do have to wonder about people attending who are not only anti-Bragg talking, but especially about WHAT he talks about: how have they missed noticing/appreciating Bragg's political standpoint. Again, as noted, they're integral to him as a performer. But it is important to note that any complainants appeared to be a very small number last night.
And Bragg can stir a crowd so effectively: on topics as connected as the Nottingham University sit-in to campaign against student fee rises, to the problems of cynicism on challenging social problems (and on that note: all hail the dense pedantry of Belbin for sticking to the ancient Greek - and now scarcely comprehended - definition of Cynicism rather than the widely accepted and understood modern definition. We get you can wiki google the original concept: very impressive. Not.)
Members of the audience may have worried about getting buses home due to the weather, and may have urged Bragg to "talk less, sing more!" but I never got the sense that this was delivered with anger: Bragg instead acknowledged it was a reasonable request in light of the context (after all, he started at 8.20pm - and not just because there was a disco immediately afterwards) and then Bragg moved on. There was still talking from the Braggmeister, but I didn't get the sense of a rising tide of anger at him still talking. He was taken to task for his own errors - to which he freely admitted ("I supported Tony Blair in 1997 and voted Lib-Dem in the last election to keep the Conservatives out: if anyone has a right to be cynical..."). But this was an audience that sang with gusto to 'There is a Power in a Union' - for surely in the current climate it has never been more vital to support collective action and challenges to rampant Conservative cuts. It wasn't just about the love songs and wearied reactions to Bragg's polemic exhortations: 'To have and have not' was equally rapturously received.
Anyway, it was as ever a delightful and uplifting gig and I was personally delighted that Bragg performed several of the songs from Pressure Drop, the performance event that ran in London (but which we unfortunately missed). I'm looking forward to playing that CD soon.
It's always worth seeing Bragg: and given how much he likes Nottingham, he's sure to be back soon. We need him more than ever.
* I did my bit to challenge the 'coming to gigs to talk' mentality and kindly asked a couple of guys who had failed to read all our intensive disapproving glaring to please be quiet so we could hear what Bragg was singing/talking about. They at least didn't get worse or throw beer at me... A small triumph.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
In Praise of... Christian Marclay: The Clock (exhibit at the British Art Show 2010, Nottingham - New Art Exchange)
Nottingham has currently gained quite an artistic coup: the opening exhibition of the new British Art Show 2010 BEFORE it comes to London (or anywhere else in the UK).
Spread across three venues - New Art Exchange, Nottingham Contemporary and Nottingham Castle Gallery and Museum - the show provides a snapshot of contemporary art practices (last time we ended up not wearing our own shoes).
So far, we've made it around two of the three venues (you get into the Castle for free if you visit the other two venues first: usually the Castle is a paying venue for non-Nottingham residents, and we live just outside the city limits).
Still, my highlight by a country mile is sadly a work not being exclusively shown in Nottingham (though I really hope that Nottingham residents and visitors take full advantage of it):
Christian Marclay: The Clock
Also available as a WHOPPING 720 page book, The Clock is a magnificent video installation showing... well, clocks. And watches. And time passing. All constructed from thousands of film clips --- in 'real time'. It is an utterly addictive experience -- we did approx. 11.25am to 12.15pm, and then approx 12.30-1pm. And then headed back for 4.10-4.45pm. You sit and find yourself physically Lost in Time (scroll for picture). I could have easily stayed for the day. If only the day long screening wasn't a work day...
What's annoying is that most of the reviews around focus on its current screening in London rather than the Nottingham installation. Even the Huffington Post reviews it -- but AGAIN, no mention that Nottingham is getting its fair share of the fun.
Which is a real shame because I would really like more people to take advantage of seeing this magnificent work in Nottingham while they can. Nottingham's New Art Exchange describe The Clock thus:
[Marclay's] new work, The Clock, features thousands of found film fragments of clocks, watches, and characters reacting to a particular time of day. These are edited together to create a 24 hour-long, single-channel video that is synchronised with local time. As each new clip appears a new narrative is suggested, only to be swiftly overtaken by another. Watching, we inhabit two worlds; that of fiction and that of fact, as real-time seconds fly inexorably by.But to my mind, this is all just a fancy way of saying 'spot the clip!' because frankly this was the most fun I've had in ages in an art gallery.
These clips from several thousand films, are structured so that the resulting artwork always conveys the correct time, minute by minute, in the time zone in which is it being exhibited. The scenes in which we see clocks or hear chimes tend to be either transitional ones suggesting the passage of time or suspenseful ones building up to dramatic action.
There is a charming interview with Christian Marclay from the Economist - acknowledging both the team of assistants in his film watching, and his editing technology - but mostly I urge you to see the installation.
What I found so enchanting is that alongside the expected - indeed, essential clips - such as 'High Noon' at noon and the Robert Powell version of 'The 39 Steps' with THAT scene hanging off Big Ben...
... you also get less expected snippets such as quick glimpses of 'The Quick and the Dead' (which also has noon as a key timing point).
But there are also some nice clips from non-film sources such as John Simm as Raskolnikov pawning his watch in the TV adaptation of Crime and Punishment. Some scenes pass in a second, others are languidly included but the main feature is that time keeps passing. I would happily spend my days dipping into this fascinating work and if you see nothing else from the diverse range of artworks included in the British Art Show, make sure you see this.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Birthday walk and stripes
Especially for fans of stripes, here's some pics of Neil and I out for a walk on my birthday on Sunday.
Cloud striding up the hill.
Rullsenberg pausing on the hill.
Neil in his Billy Bragg Marmite t-shirt.
I got a bit hot --- so off came the coat and cardigan!
And here are my new stripes: courtesy of lovely Chrissie.
Cloud striding up the hill.
Rullsenberg pausing on the hill.
Neil in his Billy Bragg Marmite t-shirt.
I got a bit hot --- so off came the coat and cardigan!
And here are my new stripes: courtesy of lovely Chrissie.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
The 39 Steps - Monday 14 June 2010, Nottingham Theatre Royal
The 39 Steps is one of Hitchcock's best loved 1930s British thrillers, scarcely bettered by later versions (despite the 1978 version having clockface drama).
Now well established at London's Criterion Theatre, the Patrick Barlow* version however is another kettle of pisces entirely.
Currently on tour, and in Nottingham until Saturday 19 June at the Nottingham Theatre Royal, this version of The 39 Steps is a hilarious romp full of witty visual inventiveness.
Neil and I had a great time on Monday at the show, and would happily recommend it. Worth seeking out wherever it may appear (and versions have been well received across the world), it's well written, very entertainingly played, and the (small) cast deserve awards for their near non-stop action. A hoot.
Although there are some video montages from this version, I think they give too many of the gags away but for some context, here is the trailer to the Hitchcock version. Which is still great, just very different.
* I used to know (another) Patrick Barlow back in the day. Not this one (I don't think).
Now well established at London's Criterion Theatre, the Patrick Barlow* version however is another kettle of pisces entirely.
Currently on tour, and in Nottingham until Saturday 19 June at the Nottingham Theatre Royal, this version of The 39 Steps is a hilarious romp full of witty visual inventiveness.
Neil and I had a great time on Monday at the show, and would happily recommend it. Worth seeking out wherever it may appear (and versions have been well received across the world), it's well written, very entertainingly played, and the (small) cast deserve awards for their near non-stop action. A hoot.
Although there are some video montages from this version, I think they give too many of the gags away but for some context, here is the trailer to the Hitchcock version. Which is still great, just very different.
* I used to know (another) Patrick Barlow back in the day. Not this one (I don't think).
Friday, April 23, 2010
Theatre Reviews: Monday 19 April 2010 - Enron @ Noel Coward Theatre, London / Thursday 22 April 2010 - Arthur and George @ Nottingham Playhouse
Enron @ Noel Coward, London (due to transfer to Broadway April 2010, but continuing with a new cast in London til 14 August 2010)
I've briefly indicated that we enjoyed Enron in my summary of our London visit.
It was certainly a treat to see such a fabulous cast and such an intriguing play. Sam West, Tom Goodman-Hill, Tim Piggott-Smith all lived up to their star billing, but in such a macho play (and the narrative is inevitably all about the macho, even if it is shown up to be disastrously destructive) it was also pleasing to see how Amanda Drew stood her ground.
Of particular note though was how wonderfully the whole thing was put together, from writing to directing to staging. Making a musical - well, it has several musical numbers and plenty of song and dancing! - out of this excessively macho narrative takes a real visionary sense of how to interpret and portray the ludicrous duplicity and optimism of the central figures. Lucy Prebble has done an incredible job of making complex economic jiggery-pokery into a comprehensible tale.
This isn't a production with a sympathetic character as its focal point however; all the central figures involved are pretty loathsome, their actions myopic, manipulative and ultimately careless of human life. The 'raptors' may be given literal form on stage, but the real monsters are the human beings who thought they could control the markets.
Boy, did they ever get proved wrong. And more to the point, how the hell did their example not ring alarm bells earlier for the rest of the financial system?
Arthur and George @ Nottingham Playhouse til 8 May 2010
In its own way, Arthur and George is equally inventive at taking an existing narrative and bringing it to the stage (in this case, both a real life connection and more specifically Julian Barnes' reimagining of the tale).
David Edgar's adaptation I suspect works better for those less familiar with Barnes' book; the form of a novel - especially this novel - enables a more elliptical telling of the coming together of the characters' narratives. By virtue of needing to create a comprehensible narrative, the play inevitably foregrounds and shows what the novel controls and masks - not least the racial identity of George.
Nevertheless, the play does work its own stage magic to provide a degree of interwoven storylines, with characters located on the rotating stage carrying on their own overlapping dialogue, with furniture moving almost constantly, with characters facing each other, the audience, absent figures. The play also makes a virtue of its small cast by highlighting the understandable degree of paranoia George ends up internalising in his dealings with social racism (actors who have played earlier central characters who treated him so badly reappear towards the end in the guise of the great and good, but echoing earlier dialogue of cruelty and dismissiveness).
The cast are very good with Adrian Lukis offering a great turn as Arthur and Chris Nayak as the myopic George. Additionally, Kirsty Hoiles and Anneika Rose offer excellent supporting roles as Jean Leckie (Arthur's second wife) and George's sister Maud respectively. As a portrait of the casual nature of early 20th century racism, of the problems of innocence and guilt, it is well worth catching - especially if you are less familiar with the source novel.
I've briefly indicated that we enjoyed Enron in my summary of our London visit.
It was certainly a treat to see such a fabulous cast and such an intriguing play. Sam West, Tom Goodman-Hill, Tim Piggott-Smith all lived up to their star billing, but in such a macho play (and the narrative is inevitably all about the macho, even if it is shown up to be disastrously destructive) it was also pleasing to see how Amanda Drew stood her ground.
Of particular note though was how wonderfully the whole thing was put together, from writing to directing to staging. Making a musical - well, it has several musical numbers and plenty of song and dancing! - out of this excessively macho narrative takes a real visionary sense of how to interpret and portray the ludicrous duplicity and optimism of the central figures. Lucy Prebble has done an incredible job of making complex economic jiggery-pokery into a comprehensible tale.
This isn't a production with a sympathetic character as its focal point however; all the central figures involved are pretty loathsome, their actions myopic, manipulative and ultimately careless of human life. The 'raptors' may be given literal form on stage, but the real monsters are the human beings who thought they could control the markets.
Boy, did they ever get proved wrong. And more to the point, how the hell did their example not ring alarm bells earlier for the rest of the financial system?
Arthur and George @ Nottingham Playhouse til 8 May 2010
In its own way, Arthur and George is equally inventive at taking an existing narrative and bringing it to the stage (in this case, both a real life connection and more specifically Julian Barnes' reimagining of the tale).
David Edgar's adaptation I suspect works better for those less familiar with Barnes' book; the form of a novel - especially this novel - enables a more elliptical telling of the coming together of the characters' narratives. By virtue of needing to create a comprehensible narrative, the play inevitably foregrounds and shows what the novel controls and masks - not least the racial identity of George.
Nevertheless, the play does work its own stage magic to provide a degree of interwoven storylines, with characters located on the rotating stage carrying on their own overlapping dialogue, with furniture moving almost constantly, with characters facing each other, the audience, absent figures. The play also makes a virtue of its small cast by highlighting the understandable degree of paranoia George ends up internalising in his dealings with social racism (actors who have played earlier central characters who treated him so badly reappear towards the end in the guise of the great and good, but echoing earlier dialogue of cruelty and dismissiveness).
The cast are very good with Adrian Lukis offering a great turn as Arthur and Chris Nayak as the myopic George. Additionally, Kirsty Hoiles and Anneika Rose offer excellent supporting roles as Jean Leckie (Arthur's second wife) and George's sister Maud respectively. As a portrait of the casual nature of early 20th century racism, of the problems of innocence and guilt, it is well worth catching - especially if you are less familiar with the source novel.
Friday, March 26, 2010
"If Ejlert Loevborg Wrote a Song, It Would Sound Like This..." Theatre Review: Hedda Gabler, Nottingham Theatre Royal 25 March 2010
First things first: Rosamund Pike is stunningly beautiful. And this production of Hedda Gabler is entrancing. Catch it in Nottingham til Saturday 27 March 2010.
I'll confess my ignorance of the play before seeing this production. Yes, yes, I knew OF it, but I didn't know it. And I hadn't seen it. Shame on me. (Though I was relieved to note Kris had also not seen Hedda Gabler before).
Anyway, there is MUCH to praise in this production. The costumes are wonderful - Hedda's dresses are simply breathtaking. The cast are great: Anna Carteret (the petite bourgeois Aunt Juju), Janet Whiteside (the life-long servant Berthe), Robert Glenister (the hapless George Tesman), Zoe Waites (a perfectly hysterical Mrs Elvsted), Tim McInnerny (the duplicitous and ultimately manipulative Judge Brack). Rosamund Pike makes for a transcendent Hedda Gabler: her father;s wilful daughter, longing for stimulation, callous in her infantile emotions, cornered by her own actions, the societal demands and the power structures surrounding women.
Interestingly, it is perhaps the dissolute Loevborg (Colin Tierney) who is hardest to appreciate: it is a thankless role in some respects, someone who has behaved appallingly, has managed to adopt and convince polite society of his worth for re-entry in their ranks (both academic and social), but who easily slips back into his disreputable ways (if he ever really left them). The inability to reconcile the intellectual mind with his own passions is his undoing and in that respect, Tierney convinces.
I'd be interested to read other translations: there certainly seemed lines that jarred slightly, but the direction and performances more than compensated. Very worthwhile and no doubt coming to a London stage this year...
Oh, and in case you were wondering where the post title came from, well of course there's this cracking song by the awesome Broken Records. "Come on Hedda, you know you've made your bed..."
Jamie and Rory - intimate version
Album version - with footage from touring
I'll confess my ignorance of the play before seeing this production. Yes, yes, I knew OF it, but I didn't know it. And I hadn't seen it. Shame on me. (Though I was relieved to note Kris had also not seen Hedda Gabler before).
Anyway, there is MUCH to praise in this production. The costumes are wonderful - Hedda's dresses are simply breathtaking. The cast are great: Anna Carteret (the petite bourgeois Aunt Juju), Janet Whiteside (the life-long servant Berthe), Robert Glenister (the hapless George Tesman), Zoe Waites (a perfectly hysterical Mrs Elvsted), Tim McInnerny (the duplicitous and ultimately manipulative Judge Brack). Rosamund Pike makes for a transcendent Hedda Gabler: her father;s wilful daughter, longing for stimulation, callous in her infantile emotions, cornered by her own actions, the societal demands and the power structures surrounding women.
Interestingly, it is perhaps the dissolute Loevborg (Colin Tierney) who is hardest to appreciate: it is a thankless role in some respects, someone who has behaved appallingly, has managed to adopt and convince polite society of his worth for re-entry in their ranks (both academic and social), but who easily slips back into his disreputable ways (if he ever really left them). The inability to reconcile the intellectual mind with his own passions is his undoing and in that respect, Tierney convinces.
I'd be interested to read other translations: there certainly seemed lines that jarred slightly, but the direction and performances more than compensated. Very worthwhile and no doubt coming to a London stage this year...
Oh, and in case you were wondering where the post title came from, well of course there's this cracking song by the awesome Broken Records. "Come on Hedda, you know you've made your bed..."
Jamie and Rory - intimate version
Album version - with footage from touring
Friday, January 22, 2010
Nottingham power cut
This would explain why one of my students came in completely confused why the power in her student house had completely gone (it wasn't 'someone forgot to pay the bill').
Apparently the sub-station blew up.
{Note: examples of Nottingham 'humour' in the comments at ThisIsNottingham article on the power outage ...}
BTW - not affected here.
Apparently the sub-station blew up.
{Note: examples of Nottingham 'humour' in the comments at ThisIsNottingham article on the power outage ...}
BTW - not affected here.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Belshazzar's Feast / Bellowhead, Nottingham Trent Uni Sunday 18 October 2009 Live Music review
Belshazzar's Feast were already underway when Neil and I arrived at Trent Uni last night: a shame as Paul Sartin of the duo is one of the brilliantly humourous string section of Bellowhead. Anyway, what we caught was great and I'll be muttering Owestry in a drunken accent for quite some time (it sounds the same as when sober), and chuckling over he and Paul Hutchinson's 'argument' about whether a song came from Denmark or Portugal for even longer (you probably had to be there)!
We first saw Bellowhead approximately 1 year ago over at the Derby Folk Festival 2008. It was a wonderful experience, so it was with a certain expectation and trepidation we headed to see them at Nottingham's Trent Uni. Would we have room to dance? But would it nevertheless be full enough to raise a ruckus? In almost perfect balance, yes to both.
I mentioned in my previous review that frontman Jon Boden is a powerfully charismatic presence: he has slightly gaunt features, an intense gaze and a performing style that is utterly theatrical. Somehow even when busy playing the fiddle he manages to engage with the audience with dramatic gestures; when free of such strings commitment, his tambourine playing keeps a rhythm that involves both his body and hands. With 11 people on the stage, it almost seems unfair to attend to him, but dressed in his stark three-piece black suit and short -- and shocking pink tie -- it can be difficult to take your eyes off him.
Still, as I say, this is an 11-piece collective and it's worth remembering that it is Bellowhead that is the side-project rather than the individual performers who make up the band. So in a strange twist of typical group dynamics it is Belshazzar's Feast (the support act on this occasion) who are actually the real thing - alongside such acts as Spiers and Boden, strings player Rachael McShane, Kerfuffle with violinist Sam Sweeney, and Faustus and Boomarang with Benji Kirkpatrick.
What makes a Bellowhead concert so memorable is how they get audiences dancing: Nottingham took a while to warm up (though we were personally early adopters of jigging enthusiastically) but by the end there was plenty of full blown bouncing taking place (I even spotted the lovely Mike heartily bopping away). With tracks to sing along to - Jordan, London Town, Kafoozalum (with kazoos!) and lots more - plus all the instrumental boppy stuff too - Frogs Legs and Dragons Teeth especially has the 'boing!' factor - there was a lot to keep us going. And with their posing and their dancing on stage, the band themselves scarcely let a moment pass for the audience to rest up.
A thoroughly wonderful evening which left me so drenched from sweat that I washed my hair under the taps at the venue afterwards!
We first saw Bellowhead approximately 1 year ago over at the Derby Folk Festival 2008. It was a wonderful experience, so it was with a certain expectation and trepidation we headed to see them at Nottingham's Trent Uni. Would we have room to dance? But would it nevertheless be full enough to raise a ruckus? In almost perfect balance, yes to both.
I mentioned in my previous review that frontman Jon Boden is a powerfully charismatic presence: he has slightly gaunt features, an intense gaze and a performing style that is utterly theatrical. Somehow even when busy playing the fiddle he manages to engage with the audience with dramatic gestures; when free of such strings commitment, his tambourine playing keeps a rhythm that involves both his body and hands. With 11 people on the stage, it almost seems unfair to attend to him, but dressed in his stark three-piece black suit and short -- and shocking pink tie -- it can be difficult to take your eyes off him.
Still, as I say, this is an 11-piece collective and it's worth remembering that it is Bellowhead that is the side-project rather than the individual performers who make up the band. So in a strange twist of typical group dynamics it is Belshazzar's Feast (the support act on this occasion) who are actually the real thing - alongside such acts as Spiers and Boden, strings player Rachael McShane, Kerfuffle with violinist Sam Sweeney, and Faustus and Boomarang with Benji Kirkpatrick.
What makes a Bellowhead concert so memorable is how they get audiences dancing: Nottingham took a while to warm up (though we were personally early adopters of jigging enthusiastically) but by the end there was plenty of full blown bouncing taking place (I even spotted the lovely Mike heartily bopping away). With tracks to sing along to - Jordan, London Town, Kafoozalum (with kazoos!) and lots more - plus all the instrumental boppy stuff too - Frogs Legs and Dragons Teeth especially has the 'boing!' factor - there was a lot to keep us going. And with their posing and their dancing on stage, the band themselves scarcely let a moment pass for the audience to rest up.
A thoroughly wonderful evening which left me so drenched from sweat that I washed my hair under the taps at the venue afterwards!
Belated news on worst architecture award
Oops. Seems word travels far more slowly when the 'award' is one for a negative opinion. After one of my contacts chucklingly informed me of this delightful information, I had a nosey and sure enough confirmed that the Building Design Architect's Website has decided the new Amenities and International House buildings at Nottingham University's Jubilee campus have been selected as the second worst new architecture in the UK. Beaten by Liverpool's Ferry Terminal, Nottingham's lego-block buildings (scroll through pictures: you can't miss them) gained second place in the 2009 Carbuncle Cup.
The Telegraph included a piece by jury member Ellis Woodman which stated:
The Telegraph included a piece by jury member Ellis Woodman which stated:
Yet give us tedium any day over the witless antics of the runner-up. Make Architects’ expansion of the University of Nottingham’s Jubilee Campus incorporates a pair of buildings so wildly aggressive (they look like enormous Sherman tanks), blazingly camp (they are clad in lurid pink terracotta tiles) and punishingly inane as to leave one trembling. To top it all off they have contributed a 60-metre tower, billed as the tallest free-standing sculpture in the UK, that goes by the revealingly vacuous name of Aspire.Did the judges know that locally Aspire is referred to as the largest and most useless waste paper basket ever?
Sunday, October 18, 2009
The Proclaimers: Nottingham Royal Concert Hall 16 October 2009
A Friday night gig with a long-established pop rocking band like The Proclaimers should be utterly life-affirming and delightful. It was, really it was -- but part of me knows that was in spite rather than because of the venue. Torch-song performers like Rufus Wainwright can get away with this sort of venue, but others may find it more of a battle.
It's rather a shame really but the Royal Concert Hall in Nottingham, bless its heart, is a bit of a quirky place not least for being a completed seated auditorium for 2499. Since opening in 1982 it has served a multitude of functions as a sister venue to its neighbour the Nottingham Theatre Royal: the RCH operates as a venue for classical and diverse forms of pop music, comedy, musicals and other sundry events includes conferences and graduations.
The problem with such adaptable venues, even with its adjustable acoustic canopy, is that it can prove itself just not quite right for anything. And pop music has often proved an especially awkward form to accommodate.
The Proclaimers did everything to make the place swing and sway with their range of sweet, bittersweet, acerbic and anthemic songs. It was the first time ever the Reid brothers had played Nottingham in their long career and they were assiduous in dedicating songs to their loyal fan-base from notes of requests. But the place just didn't quite take off as this sort of gig could and should have. Maybe Nottingham folk, once they feel they've moved away from the Rock City / Rescue Rooms / Bodega Social triumvirate of standing venues, lose faith with how to be enthused. Even crowd pleasers like "I'm on my way"* didn't seem to sparkle with the audience as much as I would have hoped.
It's odd, because when we last saw the band (Summer Sundae 2006) they practically took the roof off de Montford Hall which had to run a one-in/one-out policy on the door for their set. DMH has at least the benefit of its downstairs section being standing, even if its upper section is a tiered seated area, and maybe that was enough to make a difference.
With new album Notes and Rhymes out, the set inevitably drew more heavily on that than any short festival set would do. Neertheless, the brothers and their able band members know how to mingle old and new, bringing in tracks from their back catalogue with ease and this of course included several from the Leith album ("Cap in Hand", "Then I Met You", "Sean" and "My Old Friend the Blues" as part of the encore). Yet it is testament to them all that new songs feel like friends to the established tracks with their talent for sharp, well-observed lyrics and heartfelt sentiments with memorable hooklines. They also bought on a very lovely female violinist who brought that special dimension to "Sunshine on Leith" as well as another couple of tracks (and whose distractingly stunning black and red halterneck dress had my heart skipping to acquire one just like it).
Ending on a full-bloodied version of The Joyful Kilmarnock Blues, the evening was almost certainly nothing special for the band (neither especially memorable or disastrous): their thanks for our attendance did nothing so crass as to suggest this had been 'the best night of the tour' or anything like that. But it is still a shame that they didn't leave their first visit to Nottingham with any real sense of the passion and enthusiasm with which (some) local fans hold them so dear.
* the brothers acknowledged the need to rejuvenate the fan-base and inclusion on a successful film soundtrack like Shrek certainly has done them no harm in that regard! It was quite amusing to see some younger attending folk who looked the right generation to have grown up on Shrek debating whether to join in with standing up to join the largely 'dad-dancing' style boppery going on during "I'm on my way'!
Thursday, September 03, 2009
Live Music Review: Jeffrey Lewis at Bodega Social, Nottingham Wednesday 2 September 2009
It was incredibly pleasing to see a healthily substantial crowd attending the latest Jeffrey Lewis gig. It's out of term-time so it possibly wasn't as crowded as it could have been (it wasn't the sardine experience that was Camera Obscura at the gig in 2006) but was all the better for that. Heck, some people even danced!
Anyway: we were a little later than usual arriving so didn't catch the entire set of The Fishermen Three, and completely missed the first support (was there a first support? I think I grasped he was from Derby. Sorry for missing you). Still, we were so swept up with hearing The Fishermen Three, with Jack Lewis (yes, brother of Jeffrey and equally wonderful) that we felt very well treated in terms of a support act. As you will know from other reviews here, support acts can be variable. Some, like Broken Records supporting Twilight Sad can blow the main act away somewhat; others are The Displacements (*spit*).
It was also nice to see some familiar faces in the audience: there was a good Nottingham Uni American Studies contingent which was very reassuring as I do like to see young people with good taste in music. I should have known I could trust them.
Anyone who has seen Jeffrey Lewis perform live will know that his shows are a mix of songs, chat and multi-media activity. In this case we got a couple of 'films' (his illustrations with commentary for narratives and/or history): one was as yet incomplete on the early years of European settlers in the USA, focusing on the Mayflower, and one (clearly well thumbed) noir tale of disguises and deception. Both utterly brilliant. Both hugely difficult to convey in writing (I hope to add Neil's pictures to help, but check out Lewis's site for further visuals
Quirky, funny, sincere, heart-rending: listening to Lewis is a wonderful and unique experience. It seems hard to believe that a folk (anti-folk?) artiste could produce a musical set where one of the highlights is a rap about being a mass murderer of mosquitos in Maine, but with Lewis, anything is possible!
One final note: you really REALLY have to hand it to an act whose merchandise stall not only has CDs and T-shirts but gives space to promote the IWW (Industrial Workers of the World, aka the Wobblies). A local IWW branch has been set up in Notts. Very pleasing. It also provided a nice reminder that Lewis contributed artwork to the graphic comix book history of the Wobblies that I had picked up in New Zealand a few years ago! This seems to be pretty rare in the UK now and not exactly easily accessible in the US, which is a real shame. It's a great text about the great Union.
Anyway: we were a little later than usual arriving so didn't catch the entire set of The Fishermen Three, and completely missed the first support (was there a first support? I think I grasped he was from Derby. Sorry for missing you). Still, we were so swept up with hearing The Fishermen Three, with Jack Lewis (yes, brother of Jeffrey and equally wonderful) that we felt very well treated in terms of a support act. As you will know from other reviews here, support acts can be variable. Some, like Broken Records supporting Twilight Sad can blow the main act away somewhat; others are The Displacements (*spit*).
It was also nice to see some familiar faces in the audience: there was a good Nottingham Uni American Studies contingent which was very reassuring as I do like to see young people with good taste in music. I should have known I could trust them.
Anyone who has seen Jeffrey Lewis perform live will know that his shows are a mix of songs, chat and multi-media activity. In this case we got a couple of 'films' (his illustrations with commentary for narratives and/or history): one was as yet incomplete on the early years of European settlers in the USA, focusing on the Mayflower, and one (clearly well thumbed) noir tale of disguises and deception. Both utterly brilliant. Both hugely difficult to convey in writing (I hope to add Neil's pictures to help, but check out Lewis's site for further visuals
Quirky, funny, sincere, heart-rending: listening to Lewis is a wonderful and unique experience. It seems hard to believe that a folk (anti-folk?) artiste could produce a musical set where one of the highlights is a rap about being a mass murderer of mosquitos in Maine, but with Lewis, anything is possible!
One final note: you really REALLY have to hand it to an act whose merchandise stall not only has CDs and T-shirts but gives space to promote the IWW (Industrial Workers of the World, aka the Wobblies). A local IWW branch has been set up in Notts. Very pleasing. It also provided a nice reminder that Lewis contributed artwork to the graphic comix book history of the Wobblies that I had picked up in New Zealand a few years ago! This seems to be pretty rare in the UK now and not exactly easily accessible in the US, which is a real shame. It's a great text about the great Union.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Newstead Abbey in the sunshine
Mad, bad and dangerous to know --- but inexplicably Newstead Abbey, former home of the local bad boy of Romantic Poetry, Lord Byron, does not actually sell t-shirts with this famous description of the man himself.
It was nice to finally go around the remains of the abbey and the later Byron family house as a grown-up: I'd been to the gardens as a kid but not in the house itself. It's actually a rather good visit with some interesting displays and there was certainly more to see than I imagined!
Anyway, we had a lovely day in the sunshine, watching waders and enjoying the gardens. Photos below...
Cloud outside the grand entrance to Newstead Abbey.
Gardens of Newstead Abbey
Rullsenberg standing in the sun at Newstead Abbey
Wader at Newstead Abbey garden lily pond
Memorial to Boatswain, Byron's dog
A shady area at Newstead Abbey gardens
It was nice to finally go around the remains of the abbey and the later Byron family house as a grown-up: I'd been to the gardens as a kid but not in the house itself. It's actually a rather good visit with some interesting displays and there was certainly more to see than I imagined!
Anyway, we had a lovely day in the sunshine, watching waders and enjoying the gardens. Photos below...
Cloud outside the grand entrance to Newstead Abbey.
Gardens of Newstead Abbey
Rullsenberg standing in the sun at Newstead Abbey
Wader at Newstead Abbey garden lily pond
Memorial to Boatswain, Byron's dog
A shady area at Newstead Abbey gardens
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Two theatre reviews: 'An Inspector Calls' - Tuesday 2 June, 2009, Nottingham Theatre Royal; 'Julius Caesar' - Saturday 6 June 2009, RSC Stratford
Busy cultural week this week with TWO theatre visits for Cloud and I.
First up, 'An Inspector Calls' by JB Priestley, currently on tour in the Stephen Daldry production (due in London in the autumn of 2009 at - interestingly, given my last post - the Novello Theatre).
We saw this at Nottingham's lovely Theatre Royal, about as typical a manifestation of a theatre as you can get with its balconies, boxes, chandelier and the lush Victorian decoration. Our last experience there was the vibrant African inflected RSC Tempest (with Sir Anthony Sher), but it demonstrates the skillful diversity of Nottingham's longest established theatre that Priestley's tale of the monied middle classes confronted by how other lives interact and are affected by their actions seems marvellously apt here.
The production, for those who haven't seen it in the 17 years since it first hit the National Theatre in 1992, is incredibly expressionistic, with a set (and set-piece 'action' sequence) that reinforces the audience's way of relating and interpreting the action. I confess that although I had vague memories of the Bernard Hepton version on TV many years ago, I had little memory of the narrative and kept it that way (so I won't be 'spoiling' it here folks). Suffice to say that the production reinforces the play's politics with some neat touches and we found its continued relevance on that level engaging.
However. It was a shame that the audience were, to put it mildly, a tad disruptive. Being a study text meant several came in ready to take notes (loudly), whilst others happily yaddered and ate through much of the performance (which quite reasonably has no interval). *sigh* We were then treated to lots of noisy complaints at the end of the show about the noise which I could equally have done without. A slightly less than perfect experience overall then, which was a shame because we did enjoy the play.
Two personal notes: thanks to H for organisation of our visit AND to the set/prop crew, whose work between performances is considerable. Kudos to you all.
Second play: 'Julius Caesar' by that bloke shaking his spear.
We went to it not having read any reviews (most of which seem at best divided if not dismissive), but that seems a real shame. I'm pretty sure I've seen the play live more than once, though only the Compass Theatre production of JC at Nottingham's Theatre Royal many years ago with Tim Piggott-Smith as Brutus seems to have stayed with me.
In contrast, the RSC's current production makes much of its very alternative staging. Director Lucy Bailey opens with Romulus and Remus, bloodied, dirty and feral, fighting it out on the reddened ground. Projection shows the famous Capitoline Wolf sculpture above them and the rest of the production makes considerable use of the projections to add a sense of population and context to the scenes - whether a cheering multitude, advancing armies, or the horrific vision of burning strung up corpses (though they're probably only readable as such from seeing one hapless figure dragged across the stage to their doom). There is a definite sense of violence to the staging, though (thankfully) it doesn't make you gag - shuddering being what I felt in response to its horror (I don't really want theatre to make me ill, no matter how much it may need violence on occasion).
In terms of acting, Sam Troughton as Brutus is by turns cautious, baffled, and beguiled as he tries to deal with the leadership thrust upon him by the traitors to Caesar's power. Despite being the titular character, our relationship to Caesar suffers from his being removed from the action so early but nevertheless Greg Hicks makes for a remarkably self-absorbed Caesar, and I mean that as a compliment to his portrayal. Still, it is on Mark Anthony that much of the play rests - especially in the second half. Played as a gruff soldier, Darrell D’Silva has a tough job to do to keep all the momentum of the play, though I think he just succeeds.
Interestingly, some of the key performances come from the slightly more marginal characters: Brian Doherty as the manipulative Decius Brutus is positively gleeful as he reinterprets Calphurnia's prophetic dream to lead Caesar to to his doom at the hands of the traitors; and John Mackay and Oliver Ryan as Cassius and Casca respectively are especially venal in their shift towards and handling of power with and over Brutus.
But what made this production especially appealing was simply its circumstance: watching this play about political power-plays as the ruins of the current New Labour party turns on itself amidst a general atmosphere of distrust by the mob of politics gave me a mighty tingle. Relevance in Shakespeare? It's an old line, but remains true.
Again, worth seeing - despite the monsoon we drove through to get to Stratford!
First up, 'An Inspector Calls' by JB Priestley, currently on tour in the Stephen Daldry production (due in London in the autumn of 2009 at - interestingly, given my last post - the Novello Theatre).
We saw this at Nottingham's lovely Theatre Royal, about as typical a manifestation of a theatre as you can get with its balconies, boxes, chandelier and the lush Victorian decoration. Our last experience there was the vibrant African inflected RSC Tempest (with Sir Anthony Sher), but it demonstrates the skillful diversity of Nottingham's longest established theatre that Priestley's tale of the monied middle classes confronted by how other lives interact and are affected by their actions seems marvellously apt here.
The production, for those who haven't seen it in the 17 years since it first hit the National Theatre in 1992, is incredibly expressionistic, with a set (and set-piece 'action' sequence) that reinforces the audience's way of relating and interpreting the action. I confess that although I had vague memories of the Bernard Hepton version on TV many years ago, I had little memory of the narrative and kept it that way (so I won't be 'spoiling' it here folks). Suffice to say that the production reinforces the play's politics with some neat touches and we found its continued relevance on that level engaging.
However. It was a shame that the audience were, to put it mildly, a tad disruptive. Being a study text meant several came in ready to take notes (loudly), whilst others happily yaddered and ate through much of the performance (which quite reasonably has no interval). *sigh* We were then treated to lots of noisy complaints at the end of the show about the noise which I could equally have done without. A slightly less than perfect experience overall then, which was a shame because we did enjoy the play.
Two personal notes: thanks to H for organisation of our visit AND to the set/prop crew, whose work between performances is considerable. Kudos to you all.
Second play: 'Julius Caesar' by that bloke shaking his spear.
We went to it not having read any reviews (most of which seem at best divided if not dismissive), but that seems a real shame. I'm pretty sure I've seen the play live more than once, though only the Compass Theatre production of JC at Nottingham's Theatre Royal many years ago with Tim Piggott-Smith as Brutus seems to have stayed with me.
In contrast, the RSC's current production makes much of its very alternative staging. Director Lucy Bailey opens with Romulus and Remus, bloodied, dirty and feral, fighting it out on the reddened ground. Projection shows the famous Capitoline Wolf sculpture above them and the rest of the production makes considerable use of the projections to add a sense of population and context to the scenes - whether a cheering multitude, advancing armies, or the horrific vision of burning strung up corpses (though they're probably only readable as such from seeing one hapless figure dragged across the stage to their doom). There is a definite sense of violence to the staging, though (thankfully) it doesn't make you gag - shuddering being what I felt in response to its horror (I don't really want theatre to make me ill, no matter how much it may need violence on occasion).
In terms of acting, Sam Troughton as Brutus is by turns cautious, baffled, and beguiled as he tries to deal with the leadership thrust upon him by the traitors to Caesar's power. Despite being the titular character, our relationship to Caesar suffers from his being removed from the action so early but nevertheless Greg Hicks makes for a remarkably self-absorbed Caesar, and I mean that as a compliment to his portrayal. Still, it is on Mark Anthony that much of the play rests - especially in the second half. Played as a gruff soldier, Darrell D’Silva has a tough job to do to keep all the momentum of the play, though I think he just succeeds.
Interestingly, some of the key performances come from the slightly more marginal characters: Brian Doherty as the manipulative Decius Brutus is positively gleeful as he reinterprets Calphurnia's prophetic dream to lead Caesar to to his doom at the hands of the traitors; and John Mackay and Oliver Ryan as Cassius and Casca respectively are especially venal in their shift towards and handling of power with and over Brutus.
But what made this production especially appealing was simply its circumstance: watching this play about political power-plays as the ruins of the current New Labour party turns on itself amidst a general atmosphere of distrust by the mob of politics gave me a mighty tingle. Relevance in Shakespeare? It's an old line, but remains true.
Again, worth seeing - despite the monsoon we drove through to get to Stratford!
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Nottingham makes best use of the snow
Hat tip to Mike at Troubled Diva (and via, via as such things are in blogland) for alerting me to a gem of an image of Nottingham's Old Market Square.
I wonder how many people were aware of it as they walked through the city centre...
Warning: this probably say everything you need to know about Nottingham in the winter weather. We're a really classy bunch.
I wonder how many people were aware of it as they walked through the city centre...
Warning: this probably say everything you need to know about Nottingham in the winter weather. We're a really classy bunch.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Tales of Robin Hood to close
Wow. I mean 'wow' - finally one of the shoddiest pieces of bad tourism in Nottingham (aka The Tales of Robin Hood) is to close its doors. A victim of the credit crunch? I'd like to think a 'victim' of visitors - and locals - realising this was a rubbish way of portraying the relationship, history and fascination still held for Robin Hood.
I'm not sad to see it go.
It may have bought in £2m a year to Nottingham ('only that much?', or 'that much?' It's hard to know how to put that in context) but really, surely Nottingham should always have been able to do better than this half-baked Jorvik rip-off with 'medieval themed banqueting' attached...?
*Sigh*
I'm not sad to see it go.
It may have bought in £2m a year to Nottingham ('only that much?', or 'that much?' It's hard to know how to put that in context) but really, surely Nottingham should always have been able to do better than this half-baked Jorvik rip-off with 'medieval themed banqueting' attached...?
*Sigh*
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