Shakespeare and Plan B - liminal artists and easy bedfellows?

Over the last couple of weeks I have been considering the role of artists (verbal, musical, theatrical, sculptural etc.) in society and specifically their ability to criticise politics.

Traditionally artists were kept on the edge of society, as travelling minstrels at Medieval courts or Elizabethan theatre players, or secluded artists, like Picasso, they formed micro-communities with their own social rules. They are citizens of their own countries but they are also uniquely placed to comment on society, as quasi-strangers in their own lands.

Throughout time the Arts have had this function, in Romeo and Juliet Shakespeare comments on Elizabethan social reform resound throughout Romeo and Juliet, where the Prince proclaims new rules and the protagonists fall foul of a system that cannot understand,  ‘What, ho! you men, you beasts/That quench the fire of your pernicious rage/ With purple fountains issuing from your veins’. In Hamlet Shakespeare similarly puts up a mirror to the Jacobean approach to monarchy (The King and the Playwright).The ability to critique contemporary government and society did not end with Shakespeare, at the Queen’s Jubilee arts evening Hockney said, ‘I don’t think we can quite rely on governments to see the bigger picture so we need the Arts’. Interesting that the Arts can say things that politicians or people in other contexts can’t.

The social commentary in Romeo and Juliet (when the men are brawling on the street) came to mind recently when I was listening to Plan B’s ‘ill Manors’. Music has long been the refuge for protest music; the Sex Pistols released the controversial  ‘God Save the Queen’ in the year of the Queen’s Silver Jubilee. Plan B uses his song to critique the current government’s policies impact on the poor to widespread acclaim. Showing the foolishness of Cameron’s hug a hoody, ‘He’s got a hoodie on give him a hug...on second thoughts you don’t want to get mugged’, the Olympics, how the poor can take advantage of the benefits system and accuses Boris of ‘rob(bing) them (Londoners) blind’. He can be quite clever with his wordplay, ‘We’ve got an eco-friendly government; they like to preserve our natural habitat’. His song can be summed up in his satirical play on the Conservative statement, ‘There’s no such thing as broken Britain, we’re all bloody broke in Britain’. These statements would be very weighty coming from the mouths of the protester but somehow from the mouth of a pop singer it encounters no such censorship. It has been played on all the major music channels and has been bought as a pop song by thousands, entering the UK charts at number 6. What is so special about the medium of song that makes that kind of commentary acceptable? (you can watch the video here)

Like Shakespeare, Plan B walks an interesting line here. Plan B samples Shostakovich’s Seventh Symphony, which just sounds like ‘classical music’, getting into bed with Conservative values, but the classical piece was created as a reaction to Nazi militarism, what does that suggest? Shakespeare counted the royals amongst his patrons but what does his generous portrayal of Henry VIII say to a Stuart court? And is Shakespeare’s Henry VI, part I an attempt to boost patriotism or a stern critique of it, just as England is fighting off the Spanish Armada?

What do you think the role of the ‘artist’ is in society? Do they even have a place? I’d be interested to know your thoughts.

North Rhine Westmania!

Wrote this piece for Doppelpunkt. Thought I'd share it with you guys.

I had some holiday to use at work so I decided to spend a week and a half in North Rhine Westphalia. Although I made brief forays into other countries; namely Holland and Belgium the main focus of the trip were three German cities, Düsseldorf, Aachen and Cologne.

I flew into Düsseldorf from London on a warm Monday evening. The airport felt really big but I think this was mainly because I couldn’t find my host. Once reunited with my friend the first exciting thing about my return to Germany was my first ride on a double-decker train. I imagine, if you live in Continental Europe, the thought of a train on two levels is not that unusual but in England they don’t exist; between that and the Sky Train I was quite enamoured of the German rail system.

Düsseldorf, like the airport, was bigger than I expected. I particularly enjoyed the old town, complete with Schneider Wibbel immortalised in music and metal, little town squares and gorgeous waterfronts. Their rich heritage in Persil and other soaps is celebrated in the town museum which boasts a large collection of artefacts and trilingual signs. The other wonderful part of Düsseldorf to visit is the harbour. Like much of the rest of Europe, the old industrial parts of the country have been salvaged through architectural innovation. The arty office blocks make for an interesting view but if nature is more your thing there is also a really nice Rhine walk in this area complete with little beaches. Like many German cities Düsseldorf’s public transport is comprehensive...but one word of warning, don’t trust the station names. Getting off the train at Düsseldorf Zoo Station will not lead you to Düsseldorf Zoo but an ice-rink, the zoo was destroyed in the Second World War.

Stroking Schneider’s Nose. Düsseldorf.

For the majority of my trip I was based in Aachen, staying at a backpackers hostel. I was taking a bit of a leap because usually I only stay in HI hostels; but I found the backpackers hostel to be much friendlier, more homely and, importantly for a girl on foot, more central than its competitor. Aachen is a great German city to visit; it has got impressive regional, national and international transport links. The old town has some lovely places to visit; Charlemagne’s Cathedral, a UNESCO site with an impressive treasury, the Town Hall, again Carolingian in origin and now featuring an impressive multi-sensory museum, and lots of pretty little streets with a surprising amount of remaining architecture for a city that was 80% blitzed. It is hard to verbalise my love for this city but one of the things I really like is how truly international it is; the last big city before the border with both Holland and Belgium it is not unusual to hear at least three different languages at once. Several of my shopping experiences have started in German and ended in English via French! This attitude is echoed in everything from the architecture to the food and the music that I’ve heard in Aachen. That and the ice cream from a little parlour called Del Negro is the best I’ve tasted outside of Italy; they’ve got loads of flavours, the portions are huge, the prices are small and they even let you do half and half!

Amazing Aachener Eis!

Finally I wanted to write a little about Cologne. It took me a while to visit Cologne because of the loyalty I felt to other parts of Westphalia. The rivalry runs so deep that to ask for Kölsch in an Altbier region is really quite offensive! But Cologne was lovely. The riverside at Cologne is much photographed and with good cause. A similar size to Düsseldorf but very aware of its historic context, where Aachen is built in circles, Düsseldorf builds in squares and lines. Nowhere is this more evident than in comparing the Cathedrals of both towns. Aachen circular and Carolingian, Cologne is tall, gothic and towered. The city museum showcased just how aware the people of Cologne were of their cities relevance. The town had, for a long time, been able to harness all the local resources, and become a powerful independent city. That power had been seized on occasion for good and for very bad uses but I felt the museum dealt with this subject gracefully. There was lots to do in Cologne even on a national holiday; I reckon I could have spent more days there and still not have been bored.

In sum then, I really enjoyed my return to West Germany; the challenge of communicating in foreign languages, walking through foreign climes and discovering new cities. I hope you will consider visiting North Rhine Westphalia and discover its charms for yourself.

Randolph and Ashmolean.

So last weekend my cousin got married, congratulations Katy and Ahilan. This was a great excuse to be in Oxford and indulge in a luxuriant weekend.

The Randolph Hotel is on Beaumont Street in the centre of Oxford. My sat-nav knew exactly where it was and my own eyes soon attested to its presence! See photo below.  I drove to the entrance and our valet took over from there. Apparently valets are quite normal in America but I have to say it was a first for me; and my Mum definitely cleaned the car before we set off! Inside customer service was prized with concierge and many complimentary services on offer.

Chillin with a paper

 I have to say though, that we did spend time in queues, get delivered twice as many Sunday papers as we’d like and receive a visit from a member of staff ‘checking the mini-bar’. So the room itself cost just over £200 (definitely the most my parents ever spent on a room, me too!) and for that we got a twin room complimentary tea, coffee, hot chocolate (including cream as a milk option!) water (sparkling and still), an ensuite with some small toiletries (and a confident reminder that if I were to make a souvenir of my bath towel I was to enquire as to its sale price at reception!). Our beds were Egyptian cotton and we also had a writing desk, arm chair and footrest, complimentary wifi and of course, a trouser press. We decided in the main to avoid the mini-bar and 24-hour room service (you could even have your herring brought to you in the morning!). Our experience over night actually left me a little disappointed; the room was uncomfortably warm or noisy depending on whether you used the fan or not, the industrial fans outside also made for a noisy evening. I would also say however, that my parent’s room on the other side of the building, overlooking the Ashmolean museum was quite tranquil and beautiful, they had no such complaints. Perhaps it is luck of the draw. And as we were a family of four at a wedding it was so nice not to feel joined at the hip!

Writing my last blog

The hospitality on the other hand was brilliant. The reception venue was very smartly decorated, even the children’s menu had adult portions, our food was very tasty and the customer service was really good; just the right level of interaction and invisibility. I also had the good fortune of visiting the famous ‘Morse Bar’ and watched them make me a Mojito on my room tab (thanks Mum!), it was truly worth the £10.50 rivalling my local London favourites, Sophie’s.

As I mentioned earlier the hotel is across the road from the Ashmolean and remembering the occasion my Anglo-Saxon history lecturer claimed to have stolen the ‘Alfred Jewel’ from the Ashmolean I decided it was time to pay this place a visit. I will make the caveat now that I only had an hour. The first thing that struck me was a resemblance to the British museum; the fusion of old buildings with new architecture that makes the most of the light. Also like the BM it had an orientation space which serves to prepare the visitor for thinking about culture and provides information on the different exhibitions which are organised geographically then chronologically. Interestingly also like the British Museum I thought there was a noticeable lack of African archaeology on display. Plenty of Middle Eastern, Indian and European pieces but no African and a similar bias towards ‘classical archaeology’. The European Early Medieval Room was worth visiting if you are an ASNAC or British antiquarian, plenty of strap ends and beakers, armour and of course the Alfred jewel; it was photographing badly on the day I was there. But as far as I was concerned their visible early Medieval collection was nothing extraordinary; you’d have seen as much in that archaeology seminar with Geake.

Christopher Wren as a young man.

The other place that the Ashmolean reminded me of was the Louvre. My sister and I visited the Louvre in February and I noticed it was full of brightly coloured hallways with European paintings, hung upon the walls for contemplation. The Ashmolean had many themed rooms including one quite large room dedicated entirely to Dutch still life! If I had one complaint about the Ashmolean it would be that it seemed dominated by the interests of earlier Oxford academics; the room full of Russian ceramic and the Dutch still-life came from benefactors who had given large collections as represented by these large rooms. What the Ashmolean did well was partner the contemporary with the ancient. A sculpture exhibition put modern sculptures of Olympic sports up against classical statues in an attempt to get the public thinking about national feeling and the human body. Similarly their exhibition on conservation was inspired; lots of fun and not only for children! The picture below is me playing with a piece that counts the number of touches various materials can take before they fall apart. It was interesting.

Bodies: Ancient and Modern

Please Touch, interactive conservation.

So in conclusion, I enjoyed the bit of Oxford that I saw. Admittedly I didn’t actually go beyond Beaumont Street other than when I drove the car in. Being light blue for a start I wouldn’t have wanted to dirty my shoes...I jest. There were other priorities. I enjoyed my family time and what I saw of Oxford. I might even go back if only to taste more of the Morse Bar menu.

The Other Boleyn Girl - Phillipa Gregory

So when I was at Hampton Court I caught sight of a topical book which looked like a good yarn. Here’s my review of it. Written from my luxury bedroom at the Randolph, Oxford.

(as you can see its a terrible strain!)

‘The Other Boleyn Girl’ is the first in a series of novels by Gregory set at the Tudor Court in England. If your English history is a little rusty the Tudors were the English monarchical family between 1485 and 1603. My interest in this period of English history has taken some time to develop, starting with context for Shakespeare, via television series The Tudors and recently visiting Hampton Court Palace.

The ‘Other Boleyn Girl’ is Mary Boleyn, sister of Henry VIII’s second wife, Anne Boleyn (mother of Queen Elizabeth I of England). The book follows the rise and fall of the popularity of the Boleyn family at Henry VIII’s court. It reminded me of some Jane Austen I’d read in that the story doesn’t travel very far; the story focuses on the social relationships at one court, albeit across 15 years. I enjoyed the novel approach of taking a well-known story from a different angle, especially one that lets us look on Anne with sympathy. I think our inherent monarchical stance in Britain has made us quite defensive of the king. Gregory’s talent is in furnishing well-known figures with human characters, with probable dialogue. When Henry has an accident on the tennis court, Gregory describes his thought, ‘torn between the intense pain of his broken foot and the ludicrous thought that the Boleyns had attempted to assassinate him with tennis’. Henry VIII depicted with humour and yet pointing to a deeper theme; throughout the book the Boleyn triumvirate (Anne, Mary and George) are embroiled in a battle at court whilst appearing dedicated courtiers and courtesans.

Taking the perspective of a woman in a patriarchal age was an interesting angle for Gregory to portray. There are frequent references to the role and powers of women in the novel. When watching Jane Seymour skate across ice Mary reflects, ‘to be a Seymour girl must be very like being a Boleyn girl, when your father and your brother thrust you towards the king and you have neither  the ability nor the wisdom  to run away’. Women in the novel have all the power and yet none of it. This is a woman’s book told from a woman’s perspective. It is about romance and laughter but simultaneously questions whether these are big enough things to live for.  It did get me thinking about what I wear and why, whose styles I follow consciously or otherwise.

I learnt a lot about the Tudor court whilst reading the book, even just remembering the need for itinerancy with such an opulent court.  It is obvious that Gregory has done copious amounts of research to ensure her book is faithful to historical events but this desire to be accurate can at times be exhausting, as if Gregory needs to show us how much research she has done. This reminded me a little of Wolf Hall (Hilary Mantel) another recent work on Tudor England, although unlike WH, TOBG only concerned itself with romance and not all of politics and religion too.

The book was slow at times and I my mind did wonder, as with Austen, is there going to be anything more to this than romance and giggling. The book itself, however, has been turned into a film starring Natalie Portman and Scarlett Johansson, and my little favourite Jim Sturgess. I have to say I haven’t seen the film yet but I think I will try to now. For a commuting companion on the slow trains of Germany Gregory kept me entertained.

7/10

Hampton and Hunger

Today’s blogs brought to you by the letter, ‘h’.

Hampton Court Palace

 

On Friday I had the great pleasure of visiting Hampton Court Palace and its beautiful gardens. Hampton is an English royal palace, built first by Cardinal Wolsey, an adviser to Henry VIII. The building subsequently left ecclesiastical hands when Henry VIII took the palace over, built additions to it and had his family based there. A century and a half later William III bulldozed half the Tudor Palace and created a grand baroque country home. 

 (Tudor Hampton Court on a sunny day)

Although entry cost £16 for an adult it was well worth the money. Entry included access to both parts of the palace, all the gardens, Henry’s chapel royal and a handset which gave different tours of all parts of the palace. I was immediately struck by how like a Cambridge college the whole thing was; the clock and base court of Henry’ s palace being reminiscent of St John’s and William’s palace and gardens more like Clare.

The palace itself is laid out in several different styles, Williams’s apartments were laid out in the traditional style of a country house, showcasing the royal collection of paintings. Whereas Henry VIII’s apartments and kitchens on the other hand were laid out as Henry VIII would have had them at the time, with a strong emphasis on experimental archaeology; reinforced by the constant referral to the archaeologists on the handset. Henry’s royal chapel is really worth a look.

One of the strongest exhibitions was about Henry’s early life and first marriage. I liked the fact that although it was sited in the traditional structure of the palace, it was a blank canvas onto which new ideas were painted. There were videos projected onto the walls, speakers hidden in seats and interactive screens. In each room the relationship between Woolsey, Henry and Catherine of Aragon was represented by three thrones; which like chess pieces, took different formation depending on their relationship at the time. This effect got round the excessive ‘political history’ boards whilst still conveying the essential information.

Although I only had three hours at Hampton I could easily have spent longer. The handsets went into great detail and featured, archaeologists, art historians, curators and actors to give you as full a picture as possible; I admittedly skipped lots of them. Similarly there are amazing gardens ranging from English wildernesses of daffodils and bluebells, to a maze, and walled gardens which serve as more than a background to your picnic lunch. Although I think the weather contributed to such a lovely visit (I’m not sure all the gardens would have been so pleasant in the pouring rain!) I would highly recommend a visit to Hampton Court.

The Hunger Games

 

Yesterday I went to see the Hunger Games at the cinema. Yes, I went on my own. No that’s not weird. The film is about a dystopia where in the wake of a peasant uprising there is a yearly memorial ‘games’; its a fight to the death. 

It was a strongly emotive film; from the start people are making sacrifices for oneanother and the constant threat of death makes lines from the actors all the more poignant. Although I think I was supposed to be drawn to the love-triangle in this film (see media image below) I was actually more affected by the narrative of sisterhood in the film. At the start the children go through a selection process and both the lead, Katniss, and her little sister are in the mix. Katniss’ sister is scared and she does her best to reassure her, even giving her a Morning Jay pin-badge for luck. Against all odds Katniss’ sister is chosen and confronted with such an awful reality Katniss volunteers herself. I don’t know what was going through Katniss’ head at the time but her desire to fix that terrible situation was something I could relate to; as a big sister my gut-reaction is to jump between my little sister and any things that frighten or threaten her, even when I don’t feel that brave myself. 

 (Katniss in the 'game', Trying to be Twilight-Games: photocredits: http://manriquejoyce.wordpress.com/2011/12/08/the-hunger-games-trilogy/,http://www.salon.com/2012/03/20/the_hunger_games_a_lightweight_twi_pocalypse/)

Later in the film Katniss forms an alliance in the game with a little girl called Rue. Together they make a great team and achieve things neither of them could have done on their own. Without Rue’s communication ideas and fire-lighting they would not have achieved their aims. Although this relationship was quickly forged it was deep and true; much deeper in fact than any of Katniss’ romantic attachments. Rue stood for hope in Katniss’ game. This sisterhood, forged in a time of crisis, where each has their own skills and strengths but both work as a team towards a common goal reminded me of my relationship with my sister, on a good day.

There were definitely some quotes to take away. I particularly liked, ‘Hope...it is the only thing stronger than fear. A little hope is effective, a lot of hope is dangerous’. That line was spoken by a dictator a man trying to keep morale high but contained, I’m not the only one who likes it (Clawson). If I were the sort that went in for tattoos I think I might have this one. In general it was a more hopeful dystopia than some of the films I’ve seen (Children of Men, for example).

Finally I liked this film because it had a heroine at the centre; she was doing strong things from firing arrows to burying the dead. Often action heroes are men and if they are women they can often feel one-dimensional, e.g. Lara Croft. Katniss was very real, she had strengths but also weaknesses. The way her romantic narrative played out was also interesting, no where near as cut and dried as Hollywood often tried to make it. I don’t think I spoil the plot in saying there is a romantic tension which Katniss lives with that is also reminiscent of real life.

Yes, the plot was a little unreal some times but it was a great way to spend a Sunday evening.

Thanks for making it through a double-blog. I’m off to Germany now so see you in two weeks time!

London - architecturally speaking

Ever since I was a child I have been in regular contact with London. My Dad took my sister and I every half term in a bid to get us to know the City (impelled by a profound fear that we would be left on our own whilst out clubbing with friends and not know our way home), I came to love W1 as a teenager visiting family, got to know Bloomsbury as a student, Holborn and the Strand as a jeweller’s assistant (when I first noticed the Griffins of the City of London and the architecture of the Royal Courts of Justice) and now east of Tower Gateway working with young people. (This post would have been accompanied by my own photos but my phone got nicked!)

(Griffin, thanks to DT model at picture nation)

When I’m meeting friends ‘in town’ I often choose to walk rather than take the tube. It is good to see the city pass, walk along the banks of the Thames and take in the cool air of the city at leisure. On these many walks I have noticed what a hotchpotch of architectures we have in London. What follows is an attempt to catalogue the history of London, architecturally.

Londinium – London of brick part I

The first bit of London I was ever met was Roman. It is a piece of the London wall, now comfortably nestled, and only slightly oppressed by The Grange Hotel. Although now crumbling, the wall that used to encompass the Roman city was a formidable structure that used to run along London wall up to the Barbican (where there was a Roman fort) and down to the waterfront. You can see a statue of Trajan at Tower Hill; not often you put up a monument to someone who invaded your city (!). Encompassed within the wall Roman London had a forum, an amphitheatre and a mint; politics, entertainment and money ran the city even then!

(thanks Wikipedia!)

Ludenwic – London of wood

London was not abandoned after the Romans left, but the archaeology often looks like that. So much so that until the 1980s archaeologists and historians were at loggerheads as to whether a Saxon London even existed! Saxon London was wooden and it was western. As usual the Saxons were really into their recycling and choosing alternative locations for building; they built their London in Covent Garden. Other outlying towns and villages, now part of Greater London, have retained their Saxon names, Paddington, Lambeth and Fulham, sound familiar? The Saxons left other imprints on the City, the irregular shape of Park Lane follows the Saxon farming patterns for a start (thanks Pete Ackroyd for that gem!)

Beyond the Saxon period London continued to be a city of wood and recycling with the odd incursion of stone e.g. Tower of London built in stone by the Normans to make a point (they all had small willies!). The lack of fire-retardant structures was a frequent problem for the people of London. Fires and pestilences plagued the city on frequent occasions, often raising the city to the ground. But the occupations of older Londoners still lives on in present day toponyms; Milk Street, Wood Street, Cooper’s Row, Lime Street (think limestone rather than citrus fruits), Poultry and Vintry for example.

But London is a regenerative city, like the Phoenix that rises from the ashes, London rises again. After the great fire of London came a new age; London in the age of stone.

London of Stone

After the Great Fire and right on through the Regency period London was expanding. Life expectancies were still short but rumours like Dick Whittington’s were rife, so immigration to the city was high. The wealthy saw money to be made in the City and started building. Although Smithfields, Moorfields and Farringdon were still rural fields; the centre of the City of London was exploding.  Roads around Holborn and the Strand, heading west from St Pauls are dominated by this architecture. Big limestone-fronted buildings that announced wealth, the Bank of England built by John Soanes in this period illustrates the point precisely. Some buildings have stayed on site and retained their usage since this period. Take for instance, Twinings tea shop on the Strand; classic 18^th century architecture and still serving tea since 1706. There are other rare gems to find too, the Guildhall Library with its Hundustani Gothic entrances (1788) and the College of Arms (1670s) features amongst many guild buildings from this period.

(Bank of England, thanks to itraveluk)

Although the Royal Courts of Justice just miss the Regency period, being designed in the 1860’s and not actually opened until the Victorian Gothic period, the building shares many similarities with eighteenth century construction. The courts are a dazzling white in a city perceived as morally and literally dirtied; the edifice is elaborately decorated with perfect archways and minute shapes. Even now it makes an impression on the area around it. I did have a lovely picture of the RCJ from behind but my phone got nicked, sorry everyone. The photo showed that at the heart of RCJ is warm wood and soft lighting, hidden under the blinding brightness. Just like many of the churches in the city of London built at the time; forbiddingly holy (and stone) on the outside, soft and wooden on the inside.

London Metropolis – London of brick part II.

Thanks to transport links, better sanitation and continuing immigration pressure the London of the Victorian period saw huge expansion. Rail travel particularly saw the construction of great high ceilinged stations and commuter satellites. It was during the Victorian period that ‘Moorgate’ was no longer the gate to a ‘moor’ but a metropolis. It is the time of markets, Covent Garden, Shoreditch and of great overcrowding.  Slums, particularly in East London were popping up in great numbers trying to accommodate the vast numbers of people in the city. Building south of the river also began in earnest being served by railway lines and an increasing number of bridges to ‘the City’ (Battersea, Blackfriars, Putney, Westminster and Tower Bridge being perhaps the most famous). This is also the age that brought us the Houses of Parliament (1840) and other buildings like the RCJ, and Adelphi and Theatre Royal theatres. Evidently since the Roman times those key strands of parliament, economy and entertainment remain.

(Tower Bridge, thanks to destination360)

London of Concrete – Why would anyone want to talk about that?!

London of Glass

Today  I would call London the city of glass. Most of its new buildings are typified by the Gherkin and the Shard, or perhaps less famously the Lloyds building on Lime Street, or 88 Wood Street. Glossy, glassy, comedy shaped office blocks. All traditional forms are inverted, the glass and infrastructure is on the outside, you are supposed to be able to see in. One construction in Bishopsgate actually claims to invert the traditional building shape of biggest at the bottom...it will actually by bigger at the top! Without the dirt and dust of previous centuries Londoners are confronted with a mirror into which they themselves may indeed be perceived. I think that also says something about the generation which built the buildings, designed to give you what you want to see.

(88 Wood Street, note the lifts are on the outside! Thanks to urban75.org for image)

London of tomorrow? I wonder what that will be? I wonder what design constraints it will need to meet and what materials it will be built from? Flood proofed perhaps?

I hope you have enjoyed what was potentially my most wordy blog yet! Well done if you got this far!

 I didn’t think of all these ideas myself, please find below a list of people who helped me:

Peter Ackroyd’s London: The Biography (I’m only 200 pages into the 850 page epic but I’m getting biceps on my biceps reading it on the way to work).

http://www.college-of-arms.gov.uk/About/01.htm – The College of Arms

http://www.londononline.co.uk/cityoflondon/streets/ - London toponyms

http://www.lonwalk.ndirect.co.uk/bridsum.htm – London’s bridges

http://shop.twinings.co.uk/shop/Strand – The Twinings Shop

http://www.victorianweb.org/mt/theaters/pva234.html – Victorian Theatres in London

Can We Talk About This - A review of Lloyd Newson's production

Any play that opens with the question, ‘Are you morally superior to the Taliban?’ (Martin Amis) was going to be controversial; but when that question is accompanied by a mirror that enables you to see your fellow audience and you are actually expected to answer the question, it is scandalous. Can We Talk About This? is the latest show I’ve seen at the National Theatre for a fiver!

 

(photo credit: Evening Standard)

Can We Talk About This? Is a piece conceived by Lloyd Newson and his equally controversial dance troop DV8. In the past Newson has thought about many other taboos, but this time he turns his eye to ‘Multiculturalism’. Through the mediums of dance and speech Newson challenges the audience to think about their definitions of terms like ‘freedom of speech’ and ‘racism’. It asks how far cultures should be allow to be independent of the state in which they live, and how much impact they should have on surrounding communities. It asks whose opinion matters, who is being heard and who is being silenced. It was really thought-provoking.

Newson wisely did not use his own words to discuss this sensitive issue; instead every word of the play is quoted verbatim from real people. His sources were varied including: Ishtiaq Ahmed Ex-General Secretary of the Bradford Council of Mosques), Roy Brown (International Humanitarian and Ethical Union at the UN), Ann Cryer (a former Labour MP) and Adnan Rashid (Senior Researcher at Hittin Institute). The sources represented differed age groups, job roles and creeds. The argument was two-sided; yes the behaviour of some Muslims was criticised, particularly in relation to the Theo van Gogh case and the threats to Hasan for his comments about evolution. But it is not just the minority ethnicities that are criticised. The case of Philip Bamforth, removed from his position as a ‘Vunerable Persons Officer’, due to pressure from local council because his story was ‘bad press’ for Bradford’s regeneration was told. So was that of Mizanur Rahman, sentenced for 6 years for holding a placard during the Rushtie Protests. There is at least an attempt to present a balanced view.

I do, however, have two criticisms of the play. One, although seeking to tell both sides of the story, the play was noticeably one sided, there were far more criticisms of outsiders than iniders. More importantly for a play ostensibly about ‘Multiculturalism’ its main complaint seemed to relate to people with Muslim beliefs. This complaint was also mentioned in Jury et al.'s review (read here). As such you might argue that the protest, when a man threw a missile at the stage and shouted, ‘This is Islamophobic crap’, was quite a legitimate criticism. Overall though, the play was challenging and has got me thinking about everything from power and the freedom of speech to law and society.

What really impressed me about the show was that a group of dancers got me thinking about law; that’s quite a jump I think you’ll agree. Where the quotes from sources provided a series of thought- provoking monologues and dialogues, the movement complemented it and kept it interesting. I particularly enjoyed the Anne Cryer scene where the dancer playing Cryer moved about the stage, teacup in hand and was manipulated by her ‘chair’. Similarly the portrayal of the baying masses as wobbly dancers who hop from foot to foot, provided some comedy in the midst of all the gravity. Every time a new case was discussed it was written on the back wall in charcoal. I liked this effect because it was like all the evidence was literally building up in front of you. The writing was literally, ‘on the wall’.

There was a noticeable lack of laughter during this performance. The shock was palpable, people gasped at Newson’s sheer balls, to be breaking taboos left right and centre. Whether that is bravery or stupidity depends I suppose on your perspective.

This show will make shockwaves, even if ‘Even the darkest sections are beautiful’ (Bishop), I wonder whether the show will make the end of its run (28^th March). I think people will be offended, but then maybe that’s the price of free-speech? (I told you the show was thought-provoking). Maybe we need to be having these conversations in theatre because in daily life, No I Don’t Think We Can Talk About This! It is too inflammatory, too personal a subject matter.

Can We Talk About This? Stunning choreography meets challenging material in a way that can only be called unique, see it if you can if only so we can have an interesting conversation.