An Exercise in Irrelevance

Last week, I saw Toumani Diabate at the Royal Northern College of Music. My experience of the Kora is a busker who plays in Manchester at times; he’s pretty good actually. In concert, though it becomes a different instrument. The music is actually fairly repetitive, but the pieces generally play in cycles, flowing rather than jumping following one theme, then moving to another a note at time. As a result, it’s hypnotic rather than exciting and lulls the audience. He only played four numbers (before the encore); I think that like many people, I was surprised to find that this had taken well clear of an hour.

The one negative part of the night was the accompanying blurb; this suggested that the audience should stiffle any sneezes or coughs and not open sweets during the performance to maximise everyones enjoyment. I mean what a load of po-faced nosense; like the SAGE, it’s obvious that the RNCM is a snobbish, uptight venue but this is really taking it too far. Music is to be enjoyed, engaged in, not worshipped with great reverence. When I rule the world, I will find the idiot responsible for this statement, and string them up publicly, in front of an audience, to whom I shall allocated bubble gum, packets of crisp and low velocity, high volumn sneezing powder air rifles.

Rachael Unthank and the Winterset at The Round was the an entirely different experience. A small intimate venue anyway, they were playing on home turf; their mum (the two main singers are sisters) was in the audience. The venue is odd — basically someone’s put a roof on the gap between two buildings. The sound proofing isn’t too great; you could hear music and people walking upstairs, but this makes it more personal and engrossing. The music was wonderful; like much folk, and Toumani Diabete it’s often hypnotic. Their arrangements are remarkable, often highly melodramatic, and very innovative especially when compared to more traditional folk. I think, we were lucky to get tickets; I’m not sure that they will be playing a venue that small in future or will sell out quicker than they did.

Wish she hadn’t done the gag about Hexhamshire though; it was about a misheard lyric; I won’t repeat it. I’ve had the song (Fareweel Regality) running through my head for the last week; now it will be associated with an alternative version instead.

Originally published on my old blog site.

Saw the Doll’s house at the Northern Stage this week; it was well done, had some nice gags in it. But basically, it was dreary, long-winded and rather dull. I didn’t like any of the characters, the central plot device was silly and I just wanted it to end. Right at the end, it perked up a bit, with the patronized woman, spreading her wings and starting anew; but, this felt unbelievable, and it makes no sense spending two and a half setting the scene for 5 minutes of excitement. I can see that the play must have been revolutionary at the time, but it now is only of historical interest.

Battle of the Planets, on the other hand, has little plot, doesn’t really make sense, and is generally daft. But it’s full of 70′s haircuts, the animation is exciting and the score is wonderful. Added to this a chief baddie who wears red, thigh-length boots, a villanous cackle and the most fullsome pout this side of page 3 and you have a winner. The Doll’s House has probably helped to change our world, redefine the relationship between men and women, and has last a 100 years. But BofP was more fun to watch and at 30 years old ain’t doing bad either.

Originally published on my old blog site.

I have finally finished reading the Night Listener. I’ve always had a fragmented relationship with Armistead Maupin; I keep on getting half-way through a book, then stopping. I borrowed More Tales of the City from a friend, for example, and was half-way through reading it, when I found the copy I had bought 3 years before and then stopped. In that case, I had moved house in between and it got backed at the bottom. The Night Listener got caught by my move from Manchester. I’ve tried to start reading it again several times, but mostly while travelling; I think it’s been around the world at least twice. For some reason, I picked it up a few days ago, and read the second half in two days. My conclusions: it’s great, nicely paced, gentle and engrossing; the writer-writing-about-a-writer plot only annoys occasionally.

To celebrate my success in finishing it, I picked up Atonement, as I have stalled on this several times. Hmmm. Well, less good here. I still couldn’t care less about Bryony’s adolescent playwrite prentensions, nor understand why it needs so many chapters. Worse, I’ve read these chapters four times now. I should hire the film, but it’s got Keira Knightly in; an actor that you can see through both metaphorically and physically.

I’ve been looking forward to the second season of Northern Exposure for a while; unfortunately, the music has been replaced with elevator musack. Moreover, as well as the music being badly chosen, it’s been mixed poorly, at bad levels. It totally breaks the suspension of disbelief, making it’s very hard to get involved. Very poor performance, indeed.

Originally published on my old blog site.

All a bit mad, having been on the road for a while, so just a quick review here. When he started, I thought he was well past his best; probably because he was singing in a strangulated falsetto when we got in.

Anyway, this turned out to be wrong; he was just warming up. The singing got better and the guitar was wonderfully rhythmic. Afterwards we squeezed into the little hall for Monica Vasconcelos, who played mellow jazz, and samba tinged music. Good voice, excellent band.

And all for 7 quid, in the cheap seats which I quite like. No complaints there.

Originally published on my old blog site.

Went to the biscuit factory yesterday for the first time. On the whole, it was pretty good, and I enjoyed it. Most of the stuff in there was wildly too expensive; they had a lovely mirror, for instance, with a carved wooden frame, but 700 quid is just too much for something that has a reasonable chance of getting broken.

One of the things that amused me, though, was the artists’ statements. They seem to be required these days; people appear to judge art by what the artist is thinking rather than what they can see. I guess that they are teaching the writing of these personal statements in the art colleges nowadays; one thing that it is clear they are not teaching is grammar—in some cases it was terrible (okay, I hear you saying, maybe the pot is calling the kettle here, but blogs are quick written not studied).

These statements varied from the pretentious to the prosaic—with more of the former. A selection of my favourites (or paraphrases from memory) with my translations were:

• the individual instintively views the piece from many different angles and viewpoints (translation: it’s a shiny mirror and looks pretty in the lights).
• the latest series explorers the artists emotional response to the weather on the bleak moorlands of Northumberia (translation: hell, it’s windy up here).
• "I dislike personal statements as they force the artist to move from the abstract and ambiguous realm of the medium, to the concrete realm of writing" (translation: I’m a painter! I like painting; I hate writing).

My favourite statement, though, was short and simple. It went

"Emma (I think this was her name) generally paints from the local environment. She paints from what she sees. She likes to work on location wherever possible as she enjoys the interaction with passers-by".

Wonderful; if she had replaced "enjoys the interaction" with "likes to natter" it would have been perfect; frank and to the point. The paintings were good as well.

Originally published on my old blog site.

Lions and Lambs — three interlocking stories, over the theme of war and the media. Well done, entertaining, and a light touch. Rather too earnest too eager for me. Lacking a bit in humour

We own the night — a cops and robbers flick, with added family drama. Not a bad film, although felt rather like Cagney and Lacey on steroids. Good performances all around, lots of brooding silences and a fortune spent on blood bags.

Beowulf — finished it off. Looked great, some wonderful hacking and slaying. Story was a variation of the original with (as noted previously) added masturbation gags. Turns out that the story was adapted by Neil Gaiman; explains a lot.

L’auberge rouge — a black, murder farce. Big ensemble cast, lots of fast dialogue, and pretty well done. Not nearly as good as Juno, but the best of the lot.

Juno — missed the first five minutes of this, so watched them as well, and then let it run on a bit. Strangely, it’s been Japanese filtered on the way back; that is no swearing, no sexual references or, indeed, to any bodily functions; head-lopping and guns are okay, but sadly Juno is short on the latter.

Four and a bit films in one flight — well, I am tired and all the of the padding in my cushion has gone, and everything from my knees to sacrum is aching. And my shoulders and neck come to that.

Originally published on my old blog site.

Watched Enchanted, some of Beowulf and almost all of Juno.

Enchanted — a reverse fairy-tale, like a live action Shrek. Not bad, actually, kept me going for a while.

Beowulf — blood, guts and some serious beef swilling. Definately aimed at the adult market, containing at least one mastubration gag. Would probably have watched it, but the it was a bit dark and I couldn’t hear the dialogue over the plane noise, so I stopped half way through.

Juno — a comedy about a teenage pregnancy. This was by far the best of the bunch. Quirky, funny, and beautifully acted. The whole thing is done without sentimentality (just like Enchanted, er…), but the characters were still wonderfully endearing.

I spent too much of the film trying to identify two of the actors (from the daredevil and spiderman films as it happens). Yeah, well, I’m on a plane and ache all over.

Originally published on my old blog site.

Not been to the Northern Stage, at least not for a show. I used to get food there sometimes, but it’s expensive and the portions have got smaller.

Went to see Static last night. Strange thing — it was a cross between a music commercial, a mystery story and a tragedy. It’s mostly about a woman coming to terms with the death of her husband. The side-plot is that he is deaf and the story of how he looses his hearing.

It was pretty good actually. I was dubious at the beginning; they used a lot of short sentances to the audience to set the scene which I found rather disjointed. But the story started to run after that. The "innovative staging" failed to detract from the story, the music was quite fun and the twist at the end worked pretty well. Worth going to see.

Originally published on my old blog site.

Never seen him live, so thought, why not. Basically, he was okay. He has a substantial back catalogue, and is a powerful songwriter. But ultimately, he’s not a great performer. He’s witty and engaging, but neither his singing or guitar-playing is particularly fantastic. I found myself waiting for one of the big hits, and then being slightly disappointed by it; Golden Brown is needs more than a strummed acoustic.

Originally published on my old blog site.

Black Gold is a documentary about the coffee trade. It’s conclusions are not perhaps the most astonishing in the world — the coffee industry makes lots of money while most of the producers, particularly in Ethiopia, are not doing nearly as well. Still, perhaps, these are points that need making again and again. The role of the WTO and the trade policies of the first world are, perhaps, less obvious.

The documentary seems to have a got a new lease of life, more or less entirely due to Michael Moore. Unlike his work, or Supersize Me, Black Gold lacks a comedy turn to keep the interest going although the main protagonist, Tadesse Meskela, is engaging and charismatic.

The music and cinematography are both wonderful, though, making this a clear and compelling film. Well worth a look.

Originally published on my old blog site.