It's probably a first- John Piper and the Iranians together in one sentence. They came together for us last weekend in visiting two separate exhibitions. John Piper, known most famously for his massive stained glass window at Coventry Cathedral, also painted the mountains of Wales. The National Museum currently has an exhibition of these paintings on show until May 13. His use of light is sometimes compared to Turner. After seeing the explosion of colour and light through his window the previous weekend, most of these paintings appear dull and drab in comparison. After a failed first marriage, he married a Welsh woman and lived in North Wales and Pembrokeshire but painted landscapes in Mid Wales too. The paintings of the North Wales landscape are more interesting- full of weather and atmosphere, high rocky edifices plunging into deep black pools. Splashes of light thrill the eye and the imagination as you walk around the room.
The Ffotogallery in Penarth currently has a 'must see' exhibition on until May 12. Entitled.'Bi Nam' it is the first show in the UK representing the work of a group of contemporary Iranian photographers. The photographic and video content explore the cultural and social life of modern Iran with an emphasis on religion, gender and identity. At the preview the staff had run out of time to put the names of the photographers by their work and in the catalogue photographers' gender was not mentioned. As most of the work focused on women's experience and this show is about identity, it would have been interesting to have known the artists' gender. Do men portray Iranian women in this exhibition differently from the way women portray themselves? I would have liked to have some insight. The photos and video are very beautiful. There's a lovely series of women's faces from their noses to their necks, with the focus on the knot of their scarf and the hollow of their neck. I also really enjoyed a video of a woman dressing to go to market as we follow her around her home, and then as if the camera is a child holding onto her coat tail, we follow her around the market as she shops. But many of the photos left me feeling sad-images of loneliness, of empty days locked in the house, women as prisoners in their own homes, observers of life outside.
Saturday 28 April 2012
Sunday 22 April 2012
CLYTEMNESTRA
Last night we saw a new adaptation of the Greek classic, 'Clytemnestra' at the Sherman Theatre. The adaptation is by Gwyneth Lewis, who was the National Poet of Wales 2005-06. Her words are in English and Welsh on the front of the Wales Millenium Centre in six-foot-high letters,'In these stones horizons sing'. It is rumoured to be the largest poem in the world.
Gwyneth's poetry sings through the play set in the near future in a world where oil has run out and the world fights for food. Agamemnon sacrifices his daughter, Iphigenia to his barbaric new allies. With the anger and grief of a mother betrayed, Clytemnestra seeks revenge. She is plagued by the 'Furies'-described in the programme as,
' the ancient psychic force that demands avenging family murder. These figures have a primitive relationship with language, respond to impulse' ... 'the beat before rational thought'. . . 'but gain embodiment and change the more they are listened to. They start as pre-linguistic and prefigurative and as the revenge idea develops, they come to resemble fully formed characters. When a character assents to them, they give that character a superhuman drive. They're the precursors and sponsors of poetic language.'
Unfortunately, these moaning, crawling, rolling, licking creatures, for me, became a distraction and irritation from the central characters, whose actors displayed their angst, doubts and impulses brilliantly without the need for the 'Furies' vampire-like excesses. I wonder if this was an interpretation in the direction of Amy Hodge rather than Gwyneth Lewis's writing.
Jaye Griffiths is absolutely compelling as Clytemnestra. I couldn't take my eyes of her on stage. There are great performances by the whole ensemble. The futuristic multi-levelled set by designer, Takis, is superb- located in an abattoir with props that double for the family home, and lit dramatically by lighting designer, Lee Curran.
But it is the ending of the play that really takes your breadth away. Agamemnon, played by Nick Ross, is murdered in a revenge attack by Clytemnestra, who is clearly turned on and become insane by the blood letting. In the light we see Agamemnon hanging from the ceiling on a chain, bound and suspended by his feet like a slaughtered animal. As the rest of the action played out and minutes past, I began to worry about all that blood rushing to his head. At the curtain call he didn't appear straight away. The other actors kept looking over their shoulders for him. I don't know if it was done deliberately, but it worked. The whole audience giggled nervously and sighed with relief when he eventually appeared to take his place and great applause.
Gwyneth's poetry sings through the play set in the near future in a world where oil has run out and the world fights for food. Agamemnon sacrifices his daughter, Iphigenia to his barbaric new allies. With the anger and grief of a mother betrayed, Clytemnestra seeks revenge. She is plagued by the 'Furies'-described in the programme as,
' the ancient psychic force that demands avenging family murder. These figures have a primitive relationship with language, respond to impulse' ... 'the beat before rational thought'. . . 'but gain embodiment and change the more they are listened to. They start as pre-linguistic and prefigurative and as the revenge idea develops, they come to resemble fully formed characters. When a character assents to them, they give that character a superhuman drive. They're the precursors and sponsors of poetic language.'
Unfortunately, these moaning, crawling, rolling, licking creatures, for me, became a distraction and irritation from the central characters, whose actors displayed their angst, doubts and impulses brilliantly without the need for the 'Furies' vampire-like excesses. I wonder if this was an interpretation in the direction of Amy Hodge rather than Gwyneth Lewis's writing.
Jaye Griffiths is absolutely compelling as Clytemnestra. I couldn't take my eyes of her on stage. There are great performances by the whole ensemble. The futuristic multi-levelled set by designer, Takis, is superb- located in an abattoir with props that double for the family home, and lit dramatically by lighting designer, Lee Curran.
But it is the ending of the play that really takes your breadth away. Agamemnon, played by Nick Ross, is murdered in a revenge attack by Clytemnestra, who is clearly turned on and become insane by the blood letting. In the light we see Agamemnon hanging from the ceiling on a chain, bound and suspended by his feet like a slaughtered animal. As the rest of the action played out and minutes past, I began to worry about all that blood rushing to his head. At the curtain call he didn't appear straight away. The other actors kept looking over their shoulders for him. I don't know if it was done deliberately, but it worked. The whole audience giggled nervously and sighed with relief when he eventually appeared to take his place and great applause.
Wednesday 18 April 2012
THE FATHER & OTHER DRAMAS
On Saturday we went up to Coventry to see a new version of Strindberg's play, 'The Father' by Laurie Slade at the Belgrade Theatre. I met Laurie on an Arvon writing course in November 2010 and was keen to see his play and give support along with several other ex-Arvonites.
The play explores the claustrophobia of a long marriage and the power struggles and trust issues that go with it. Laurie wanted to bring something fresh and dynamic to the original and he is very successful in doing this. Tension builds from the opening scene, it never palls and the ending is shocking. Joe Harmston directs an excellent team of actors, many RSC old hands. Joe Dixon plays the Captain and Katy Stephens his wife, Laura. In the programme he says,"My acid test is 'will people leave the theatre with questions?'...I hope people will leave arguing about how they feel about what they've seen." The ex-Arvonites certainly did that. At the Bella Pasta we chewed over the nature of madness, fidelity, seduction and sex in the relationship, the use of an only child to play out power struggles, the expected roles of husband and wife in the 1880's, and the role of Laura in the Captain's descent into an eventual mental breakdown.
As if we hadn't had enough drama for one night, at 3.30am we were sleeping soundly at our Premier Inn when we were awoken suddenly by a high pitched screeching drone. I bolted out of bed, thinking it was the TV and Rhys fumbled about looking for the on/off button. It wasn't the TV. It was the fire alarm. I grabbed Rhys's shirt and he got up on the bed waving it madly underneath the ceiling alarm as if he were trying to tame smoke from burning bacon in our kitchen. No luck. Still semi-comatose we opened the hotel door of our room to see guests in various states of undress marching resolutely towards the staircase. I don't normally wear anything in bed, but luckily on this occasion I was wearing a shorty nightdress bought at the time of my hip replacement. With some difficulty I pulled on my only footwear- laced ankle booties and grabbed my priorities- denture, handbag and mobile phone. Rhys put on a pair of trousers and out we trooped; into a crystal cold night to join a hundred or so others shivering in their nightclothes or quilted jackets depending on their foresight. No information and no staff visible.
The following morning we found out that it had been someone smoking in their room. One member of staff had been trying to wake a party of profoundly deaf while the other dealt with the culprit. No staff available to deal with the rest of us. The culprit's punishment? A lifetime ban from Premier Inns. Our reward? The guarantee of a full refund when you don't get a good night's sleep. Bingo!
With all these visuals in mind, it was apt that Pontardawe Script Cafe's speaker this month was Elen Bowman on 'Thinking in Pictures'. Elen is a RADA and Stanislavsky trained actress and director and has advised The Royal Court Theatre on the Russian's methodology. She is directing The Tempest with Teater Genedlaethol (The Welsh language National Theatre of Wales) later this year. She work-shopped a play, 'Mrs Pink Power Ranger' by a new member, Geraint Desmond, and helped us consider how to build the visual world of our play through the characters. A stimulating evening.
The play explores the claustrophobia of a long marriage and the power struggles and trust issues that go with it. Laurie wanted to bring something fresh and dynamic to the original and he is very successful in doing this. Tension builds from the opening scene, it never palls and the ending is shocking. Joe Harmston directs an excellent team of actors, many RSC old hands. Joe Dixon plays the Captain and Katy Stephens his wife, Laura. In the programme he says,"My acid test is 'will people leave the theatre with questions?'...I hope people will leave arguing about how they feel about what they've seen." The ex-Arvonites certainly did that. At the Bella Pasta we chewed over the nature of madness, fidelity, seduction and sex in the relationship, the use of an only child to play out power struggles, the expected roles of husband and wife in the 1880's, and the role of Laura in the Captain's descent into an eventual mental breakdown.
As if we hadn't had enough drama for one night, at 3.30am we were sleeping soundly at our Premier Inn when we were awoken suddenly by a high pitched screeching drone. I bolted out of bed, thinking it was the TV and Rhys fumbled about looking for the on/off button. It wasn't the TV. It was the fire alarm. I grabbed Rhys's shirt and he got up on the bed waving it madly underneath the ceiling alarm as if he were trying to tame smoke from burning bacon in our kitchen. No luck. Still semi-comatose we opened the hotel door of our room to see guests in various states of undress marching resolutely towards the staircase. I don't normally wear anything in bed, but luckily on this occasion I was wearing a shorty nightdress bought at the time of my hip replacement. With some difficulty I pulled on my only footwear- laced ankle booties and grabbed my priorities- denture, handbag and mobile phone. Rhys put on a pair of trousers and out we trooped; into a crystal cold night to join a hundred or so others shivering in their nightclothes or quilted jackets depending on their foresight. No information and no staff visible.
The following morning we found out that it had been someone smoking in their room. One member of staff had been trying to wake a party of profoundly deaf while the other dealt with the culprit. No staff available to deal with the rest of us. The culprit's punishment? A lifetime ban from Premier Inns. Our reward? The guarantee of a full refund when you don't get a good night's sleep. Bingo!
With all these visuals in mind, it was apt that Pontardawe Script Cafe's speaker this month was Elen Bowman on 'Thinking in Pictures'. Elen is a RADA and Stanislavsky trained actress and director and has advised The Royal Court Theatre on the Russian's methodology. She is directing The Tempest with Teater Genedlaethol (The Welsh language National Theatre of Wales) later this year. She work-shopped a play, 'Mrs Pink Power Ranger' by a new member, Geraint Desmond, and helped us consider how to build the visual world of our play through the characters. A stimulating evening.
Sunday 1 April 2012
'SORRY' IN PONTARDAWE & OTHER SORRIES
This week we launched our joint exhibition of art work and poetry,'Sorry I don't eat fish' on the theme of climate change and a celebration of the natural world at Pontardawe Arts Centre with a wine reception and an open mike poetry session. About 50 people attended and a number of poets read their work. Two people sang, one of whom had composed and written a song himself. Some poets had produced work at a workshop led by Susan Richardson, Eco-Poet with Radio 4's 'Saturday Live' and organised by Awel Aman Tawe for a competition on the theme of climate change to be judged by Carol Ann Duffy, the British Poet Laureate. Profits on sales of Rhys's work will be donated to the trust representing families affected by the Gleision Colliery disaster. On the evening we made about 150 pounds on prints and catalogues and are hoping that this amount will increase by the end of the exhibition, the 20th of April 2012. If you are interested in buying an original the Arts Centre can offer Collectorplan, an interest-free credit service to help people buy contemporary art and craft in Wales. Originals range from 100-200 pounds.
Other events at Pontardawe in March included attendance at a scriptwriting weekend workshop organised by Script Cafe and led by Louise Osborn on issue-based playwriting. Louise is a very experienced writer and director, who I first met over twenty years ago when she was an actor with Theatre Powys. She inspired me to start writing a new play that I'd been thinking about for some time, its working title, 'Crisis of Confidence' a love story set in Tent City during the' Occupy London' protests this winter. The first five minutes were read at Script Cafe's open mike session and I had helpful feedback. 'Mess up the Mess', a youth theatre group joined us to read their own and our plays. Some of our members had written pieces especially for younger people. Their involvement was refreshing and we hope to invite them back again sometime soon.
The Sherman Theatre in Cardiff re-opened after renovations. There's a clinical new entrance hall that needed filling. The Artistic team invited writers on their data base to submit plays no longer than a page to decorate the walls. I submitted five plays but after some searching I could only find one laminated and left on a table for easy reading. Plays are strung from bars on ribbons resembling fly-catching paper, way out of reading sight unless you're a stilt walker. Others are printed in pale orange and green and pasted on pillars. A good idea to promote playwriting but in presentation appears tacky and somewhat dismissive of our efforts. One new bonus is that 'Writers nights' offer concessions on ticket prices and a free drink. It's the team's plan to pick their favourite plays-on-a-page and paste them on their website.
However, we did see three very good plays there in the past month. Pity that the renovations didn't run to more comfy seats in the smaller theatre but that didn't stop us enjoying Greg Cullen's new play 'Muscle'. I first met Greg when he worked as writer with Theatre Powys and did some work with Spectacle Theatre. 'Muscle' has an all male cast and through a series of personal stories tells us with great energy, pathos and humour what it's like to be a man.
Kate Tempest's debut play,'Wasted', is the story of three old friends coming to terms with loss, love and struggling to find meaning in life. Much of the action was rapped to an exhilarating score. This young performance poet, rapper and playwright is a talent to watch. The Paines Plough production was excellent.
The third production in the comfortable larger theatre was absolutely outstanding. 'Lovesong', by Abi Morgan with Sian Phillips in a leading role, tells the story of an older couple reflecting on their younger lives together. It is one of the most moving plays I've seen for a long time. There was a lot of sniffing going on in the audience. It is beautifully written and produced with clever surprises, such as a disappearance through the double bed, the actors reappearing out of the fridge or the wardrobe, and the old couple and their younger selves dancing around each other with poise and elegance.
The only disappointment was Peter Gill's adaptation of Chekhov's, 'A Provincial Life.' It was so boring that we left at the interval.
On Friday night Rhys sang with his 'singing for the natural voice' group at an event to raise money for Water Aid, led by their tutor, Laura Bradshaw. This sorry goes to the penny whistle players who may have been distracted by the laughter from the back of the hall as my friend and I did a French and Saunders type impersonation of Irish dancing. Or as one woman said, 'You remind me of Morecambe and Wise.' I really must lay off that Taffy Cider.
Other events at Pontardawe in March included attendance at a scriptwriting weekend workshop organised by Script Cafe and led by Louise Osborn on issue-based playwriting. Louise is a very experienced writer and director, who I first met over twenty years ago when she was an actor with Theatre Powys. She inspired me to start writing a new play that I'd been thinking about for some time, its working title, 'Crisis of Confidence' a love story set in Tent City during the' Occupy London' protests this winter. The first five minutes were read at Script Cafe's open mike session and I had helpful feedback. 'Mess up the Mess', a youth theatre group joined us to read their own and our plays. Some of our members had written pieces especially for younger people. Their involvement was refreshing and we hope to invite them back again sometime soon.
The Sherman Theatre in Cardiff re-opened after renovations. There's a clinical new entrance hall that needed filling. The Artistic team invited writers on their data base to submit plays no longer than a page to decorate the walls. I submitted five plays but after some searching I could only find one laminated and left on a table for easy reading. Plays are strung from bars on ribbons resembling fly-catching paper, way out of reading sight unless you're a stilt walker. Others are printed in pale orange and green and pasted on pillars. A good idea to promote playwriting but in presentation appears tacky and somewhat dismissive of our efforts. One new bonus is that 'Writers nights' offer concessions on ticket prices and a free drink. It's the team's plan to pick their favourite plays-on-a-page and paste them on their website.
However, we did see three very good plays there in the past month. Pity that the renovations didn't run to more comfy seats in the smaller theatre but that didn't stop us enjoying Greg Cullen's new play 'Muscle'. I first met Greg when he worked as writer with Theatre Powys and did some work with Spectacle Theatre. 'Muscle' has an all male cast and through a series of personal stories tells us with great energy, pathos and humour what it's like to be a man.
Kate Tempest's debut play,'Wasted', is the story of three old friends coming to terms with loss, love and struggling to find meaning in life. Much of the action was rapped to an exhilarating score. This young performance poet, rapper and playwright is a talent to watch. The Paines Plough production was excellent.
The third production in the comfortable larger theatre was absolutely outstanding. 'Lovesong', by Abi Morgan with Sian Phillips in a leading role, tells the story of an older couple reflecting on their younger lives together. It is one of the most moving plays I've seen for a long time. There was a lot of sniffing going on in the audience. It is beautifully written and produced with clever surprises, such as a disappearance through the double bed, the actors reappearing out of the fridge or the wardrobe, and the old couple and their younger selves dancing around each other with poise and elegance.
The only disappointment was Peter Gill's adaptation of Chekhov's, 'A Provincial Life.' It was so boring that we left at the interval.
On Friday night Rhys sang with his 'singing for the natural voice' group at an event to raise money for Water Aid, led by their tutor, Laura Bradshaw. This sorry goes to the penny whistle players who may have been distracted by the laughter from the back of the hall as my friend and I did a French and Saunders type impersonation of Irish dancing. Or as one woman said, 'You remind me of Morecambe and Wise.' I really must lay off that Taffy Cider.
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