’50 Words for Snow’ by Kate Bush

25 November 2011

It’s hard to think of any other serious musician whose reputation could not only survive but appear to have been enhanced by an Elvis impression, a washing-machine fixation and a duet with Rolf Harris (all on her 2005 album, ‘Aerial’). Those of us who grew up fascinated by Kate Bush’s voice would probably be happy to listen to her reading the telephone directory. We get close to this on her new album but, unfortunately, it is Stephen Fry’s voice, rather than Kate Bush herself, that is given the task of reverentially intoning 50 (made-up) Words for Snow to Bush’s musical encouragement on the title track. ’50 Words for Snow’ is a quiet, contemplative collection of songs, mostly accompanied by gentle piano chords. It’s a beautiful work, despite continuing to sail mischievously close to self-parody (including a sexual encounter with a snowman!). Kate Bush’s celebrity pulling power seems stronger even than that of Ricky Gervais, with Elton John the guest vocalist on ‘Snowed in at Wheeler Street’. Much as I have been enjoying ‘Ceremonials’, the new album from Florence + The Machine, which sounds a lot like Kate Bush in rock-mode (I particularly like the opening track ‘Only If For A Night’ with its bell-ringing descending scales), it is no substitute for the real thing. More please!

Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert

15 November 2011

Having been practising Mahler’s 6^th Symphony almost every day since early August, it feels very strange now that our performance has been and gone. In the last few days leading up to Saturday’s Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert I found myself increasingly paranoid that I was going to trip and bang my lip or fall prey to some other mishap that would prevent me from playing the 1^st Horn part. In the event I made it to the concert intact and I think it all went incredibly well – though it’s very hard to judge when you are in the middle of it. I know there were no major disasters – we didn’t have to stop and start again and I don’t think I missed any of my solo passages. Having worked so hard on my stamina I was pleased to get through the 80 minutes of the symphony and still to be able to hit the high notes towards the end. But even though I had ensured I was physically capable of playing my part, it’s amazing what an effect nerves can have. As you approach a delicate solo you become more and more aware of how fleeting the opportunity is to get it right. You are thinking how many times you have played the phrase perfectly over the past few months and how awful it would be if something went wrong in the one brief chance you have to play it for real in the performance. These mind games are pernicious: even half-way through a solo there’s a danger that you think to yourself “actually this seems to be going okay”, only to distract yourself and fall apart. It’s an incredibly draining challenge of physical stamina, mental strength and concentration. I’m sure our performance was by no means perfect but Mahler 6 was a fantastically ambitious undertaking and I think we managed to present a very reasonable account of it, which included some truly exquisite moments. It was certainly incredibly loud, with an enlarged orchestra, including a massive brass section, creating a deafening climax. It was wonderful to have eight excellent horn players alongside me and I think we made quite an impressive section. The show was somewhat stolen, however, by the ‘Mahler box’ constructed specially for the occasion by Nick Bunker. The final movement of the symphony (which lasts a mammoth 30 minutes on its own) is punctuated by three massive hammer blows of fate. Mahler specified that these hammer blows should be "brief and mighty, but dull in resonance and with a non-metallic character (like the fall of an axe)”. For our performance Nick made a large wooden cube which was struck, by percussionist Keith Crompton, using a heavy log attached to a long broom handle. It created an amazing sound – and resulted in the violinists sitting immediately in front of it jumping several feet in the air each time it was struck! There is quite a good example of a similar realisation of the hammer blow at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UwljE3HsfSM and you can see our Mahler box at http://culturaloutlook.blogspot.com/2011/11/our-mahler-box.html. The first half of our concert saw an excellent performance of the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto by Charlotte Skinner who was confident, assured and lyrical. As I wasn’t playing in the concerto, sitting at the back of the audience to watch it was a relaxing way to prepare for the daunting challenge of the symphony. By the end of the concert I was exhilarated, proud, relieved and totally shattered. I’ve really enjoyed the experience of playing Mahler 6 but I’m pleased it’s now over and I’m looking forward to playing something slightly less demanding next!

'La Bohème' by Giacomo Puccini

15 November 2011

We were at Milton Keynes Theatre last Friday to see the Glyndebourne on Tour production of La Bohème by Giacomo Puccini. This was the first Puccini opera I had seen and the music was wonderful – sumptuous, romantic, beautiful and, yes, sentimental – but none the worse for it. This revival of the 2000 Glyndebourne on Tour production, directed by David McVicar, is set in a grittily contemporary Paris, with an uncompromisingly urban set designed by Michael Vale. The grotty flat in which the four young men live looked strangely familiar – and when they are visited by their landlord in search of his rent I realised that we were watching an episode of ‘The Young Ones’, albeit with better singing! Writing in the programme, Nicholas Payne, suggested that ‘La Bohème’ is the perfect length. He says that “Puccini, and his librettists, Giuseppe Giacoso and Luigi Illica struggled for three years to find a coherent shape for their incidents chosen from Henri Murger’s novel ‘Scènes de la vie de bohème’” and that “with hindsight we can appreciate that it was Puccini’s pernicketiness which forged that unique mixture of the conversational and the lyrical that is the opera’s trademark”. I would agree that the opera does not overstay its welcome but it seemed to me that, by cherry-picking a number of incidents from the novel, the plot felt oddly unbalanced and disjointed. There are moments of great comedy that sit uneasily against the final angst and tragedy. And it seems a great shame to have constructed such a wonderful set-piece second act (in the Café Momus) which makes great use of a massive chorus and finishes with the show-stealing aria ‘Quando me’n vo’ soletta’ (gorgeously sung by Natasha Jouhl as Musetta in this production) only for the chorus to completely disappear as the opera moves to its bleak finale. Nevertheless the music was wonderful and the singing and playing (conducted by Jeremy Bines) was excellent.

'The Go-Between' by David Wood and Richard Taylor, based on the novel by L P Hartley

11 November 2011

"The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there". I had heard of ‘The Go-Between’ by L P Hartley but I haven’t read the book or seen the 1970 film adaptation by Harold Pinter and, before going to see the new stage version at the Royal & Derngate in Northampton last week, I didn’t really know what it was about. Published in 1953, the novel describes Leo Colston looking back, in 1950, to his childhood experiences as the house guest of a wealthy family in Norfolk in the summer of 1900. His boyhood role as ‘postman’, passing messages between two illicit lovers, leads to a devastating conclusion that affected him for the rest of his life. The stage version, by David Wood with music by Richard Taylor, turns the story into a serious musical, almost sung-through, reminding me of Sondheim and not far from contemporary opera. The production, directed by Roger Haines, was a collaboration between the Royal & Derngate, Derby Live and West Yorkshire Playhouse and it was excellent. The cast were all strong and the singing was very impressive but the show was stolen by the two local boys, Adam Bradbury as Marcus and particularly William Miles as Leo who was on stage almost constantly. The story was carefully and effectively told in a very theatrical style which left much to the imagination. I particularly enjoyed James Staddon as the older Leo, shadowing the actions of his younger self while watching from the back of the stage. The music was provided by an onstage grand piano played by Musical Director Jonathan Gill. It was an entertaining, moving and extremely high-quality evening in the theatre.

'Symphony No 6' by Gustav Mahler

4 November 2011

Mahler’s 6^th Symphony is a mammoth work: it lasts 80 minutes and requires an orchestra of nearly 100 players. Rather than the usual 4 French horns, there are 8 horns and the 1^st horn part is fiendishly difficult. In most orchestral works, as a horn player you can expect to spend a fair amount of time counting the rests before you next come in but in Mahler 6 the 1^st horn barely has more than a few seconds break in the whole piece. There are pages and pages of extremely high and loud notes, interspersed with plenty of delicate, exposed solos. When the Northampton Symphony Orchestra decided to take on the gargantuan challenge of performing the 6^th Symphony it was in the knowledge that the daunting 1^st horn part would be in the safe hands of our excellent principal horn player, David Lack. When it became clear that Dave was sadly going to miss the concert through illness, I was persuaded to step up to the challenge. Tackling this incredible work is a very exciting opportunity but one that I would much rather have had in different circumstances. The symphony has been dominating my life for the past 3 months. Since 7 August, apart from a week in Paris, a week in Northumberland and the occasional night away for work, I have played at least one movement of the work every day. Wary of the need to build my stamina, every Saturday and Sunday I have tried to play through all four movements without stopping. Finding 80 minutes to sit down and practice has been hard enough but the physical endurance necessary to play all the way through the symphony took some weeks to build up. Fortunately I won’t need to play every single note in the performance. It’s common practice in larger orchestral works to have an additional horn player ‘bumping’ the first horn part, ie doubling the first horn to allow the principal horn player to save himself for the solo passages, and I know I’m going to need this. I now know Mahler’s 6^th Symphony intimately: it seems to be playing in my head most of the time at the moment. I like to practice by playing along with recordings and thanks to Spotify I’ve been working through heaps of different recordings (Sir Simon Rattle’s interpretation seems to be the slowest, Leonard Bernstein’s definitely the fastest, but I think my favourite is Claudio Abbado with the Berlin Philharmonic). At this Wednesday’s rehearsal we had all 9 horn players together for the first time – boy, it’s going to be loud! It’s an incredible work – passionate, playful, sentimental, brutal, triumphant and tragic, with lots of cowbells. If you are anywhere remotely within range of Northampton next Saturday, 12 November, please do join us for what promises to be an amazing concert – also including the lovely Mendelssohn Violin Concerto, played by Charlotte Skinner. Full details and tickets available from http://www.nso.org.uk/ – wish me luck!

‘Fatou’ by Fatoumata Diawara

28 October 2011

I first saw the young Malian singer Fatoumata Diawara providing backing vocals for the legendary Oumou Sangaré at the 2009 WOMAD Festival (reviewed here in July 2009). I saw her again at this year’s WOMAD Festival where she appeared on the BBC Radio 3 Stage with her own band to perform songs from her forthcoming debut album. That album, ‘Fatou’, was released in September and I’ve been listening to it this week. Fatoumata Diawara comes from Southern Mali and sings in the Wassalou style, familiar to me from Oumou Sangaré (reviewed here in March 2009) and that other great contemporary Malian singer Rokia Traoré (reviewed here in December 2008). Like Rokia Traoré, Fatoumata Diawara now lives in France and her music shows some European influences. Her voice is gentler than Oumou Sangaré and more laid-back than the breathy intensity of Rokia Traoré. And the songs on ‘Fatou’ are lovely – gentle, catchy, joyful, distinctively West African but easily accessible to European ears. Perhaps not as musically ambitious as Rokia Traoré or quite so concerned with political messages as Oumou Sangaré (though she does deal with some important social issues) Fatoumata Diawara has created an album which is sophisticated easy-listening.

'South Pacific' by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II

21 October 2011

‘South Pacific’ by Rodgers and Hammerstein was the first musical I played for as a member of a pit band. It was a production by the excellent Westwood Musical Society at the Key Theatre in Peterborough in 1991. We did more than a week of performances, at the end of which I knew the score inside out and could recite huge chunks of the dialogue. But, being in the orchestra pit, I never actually saw the show and some aspects of the plot have never entirely made sense to me. Twenty years later I’ve finally got around to seeing ‘South Pacific’ for the first time. We were at Milton Keynes Theatre last Saturday to see the acclaimed production from the Lincoln Center, New York. It was a very straightforward revival which didn’t attempt anything particular innovative or revisionist but it was excellently done. In the same way as Shakespeare seems to have inserted lots of famous lines into ‘Hamlet’, Rodgers and Hammerstein seem to have stuck a load of very well known songs together to make a musical. It’s an impressive show that includes ‘Some Enchanted Evening’, ‘There is Nothin' Like a Dame’, ‘I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair’, ‘A Wonderful Guy’ and ‘Happy Talk’. The music was wonderful and the cast were very strong, particularly Samantha Womack as Nellie Forbush and the operatic baritone Jason Howard as Emile de Becque. I enjoyed the choreography (by Joe Langworth) but I could have done with more. I’m always a little disappointed with a musical that doesn’t have a really big dance number. And though I now finally understand the story, ‘South Pacific’ is not the most impressive of plots. Nevertheless the music is so good it doesn’t need much assistance and I really enjoyed the show.

'Comedy Carpet' by Gordon Young

14 October 2011

Comedy Carpet, Blackpool

It was great to have the opportunity to see Blackpool's new Comedy Carpet – an amazing artwork by Gordon Young featuring the catchphrases, jokes and names of more than 1,000 comedians which was unveiled by Ken Dodd at the foot of Blackpool Tower earlier this week. There has been massive worldwide interest in the Comedy Carpet: it was temporarily the most searched for term on Google. The ‘carpet’ is built from concrete and coloured granite and designed to withstand both the thousands of feet that will walk across it and the Blackpool weather. Encountering it for the first time is a compelling experience: the various catchphrases are all in different fonts, colours and sizes and face in different directions so you have to keep walking around to see the words that are initially upside down to you. This draws you in as you keep spotting another familiar phrase and trying to remember who said it. While there were plenty of old favourites I found quite a few lines I didn’t recognise and I kept smiling as I got the gist of another pun or witty aphorism for the first time. I suspect we will all have our favourites and I certainly found myself returning to the large words “I’m playing all the right notes – but not necessarily in the right order”. See: http://www.blackpoolgazette.co.uk/lifestyle/legend_unveils_comedy_carpet_1_3857375

'One Man, Two Guvnors' by Richard Bean

7 October 2011

On Saturday we made a first visit to the lovely Waterside Theatre in Aylesbury to see the National Theatre production of ‘One Man, Two Guvnors’ by Richard Bean. Based on Carlo Goldoni’s 1746 play ‘The Servant of Two Masters’, this production has been a big commercial hit for the National Theatre and a star vehicle for James Corden, reunited with the director Nicholas Hytner for the first time since ‘The History Boys’. Set in Brighton in 1963, ‘One Man, Two Guvnors’ is broad tongue-in-cheek comedy played for laughs but it’s very well done and extremely funny. The Waterside Theatre was completely sold out and much of the audiences was in stitches throughout. There was plenty of audience participation and ad-libbing, some great physical comedy and a wonderful cast. It is interesting to note that Goldoni was criticised for taking the usually completely improvised Commedia dell’Arte tradition and writing it down but, in doing so, he succeeded in preserving the style for centuries. The action of ‘One Man, Two Guvnors’ is supplemented by a four-piece Beatles-style band (playing original songs by Grant Olding) who spring from the orchestra pit to play in front of the curtains during each scene change. They are joined, in turn, by a series of members of the cast (including Corden on xylophone) who perform a variety of party-pieces. James Corden is very funny and clearly the star of the show but Oliver Chris also stood out as the public-school educated bully. It was an excellent, feel-good evening in the theatre.

'Fawlty Towers' by John Cleese and Connie Booth

7 October 2011

On Friday we returned to the tiny theatre in Toddington to see TADS take on ‘Fawlty Towers’. This was a straight presentation of two episodes of the much cherished 1970s sitcom by John Cleese and Connie Booth. I must admit I was dubious as to whether this would work on stage. ‘The Germans’ and ‘Basil the Rat’ are so familiar that most of the audience could probably have chanted along with the dialogue. And the characters of Basil Fawlty, Sybil, Manuel etc. have become so iconic there was a real danger that any attempt to act these parts again now would just seem like impersonations of John Cleese, Prunella Scales, Andrew Sachs et al. It was  great testament to the skills of the TADS actors, excellently directed by James Sygrove, that they managed to create a believable set of characters that drew you into the plot and (almost) made you temporarily forget the originals. When Basil said “Don’t mention the war – I mentioned it once but I think I got away with it”, the line was perfectly in context (and therefore very funny) rather than sounding like the repetition of well-worn catchphrase. The Fawlty Towers scripts were very much of their time and some elements sounded a little uncomfortable to contemporary ears. But Fawlty Towers is excellent farce and the timing in the TADS production generated some hilarious moments (even though we knew they were coming). With a large cast crammed onto a small stage, it was some achievement to get the slapstick to work so well. Matt Flitton stood out as Basil Fawlty – a wonderful performance – but all the actors were impressive, particularly Susie Condor as Sybil Fawlty and David Sachon as The Major.

‘The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ’ by Philip Pullman

30 September 2011

With the ‘His Dark Materials’ trilogy of children’s books Philip Pullman clearly decided to cock-a-snook at organised religion. In ‘The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ’ he goes a step further in attempting to retell the life of Christ. It’s an odd book: it seems to be an attempt to present a believable account of ordinary events that could have created myths that became the Gospels. Pullman suggests that Jesus had a brother (how would we know what happened to Jesus in the wilderness or in the Garden of Gethsemane unless there had been someone else there?) and even uses this device to explain the resurrection. But the tone often veers from rational explanation into the cheeky or facetious – which can be quite funny, depending on your beliefs. Though his prose is modern (and often quite forthright) the book is structured like a Gospel. It’s an interesting read but I found Pullman’s lengthy Afterword, which discusses the narrative structure of the Gospels, much more interesting. Here you realise that his real interest in writing the book was not in exactly what happened two thousand years ago but in the way the story was told. 

‘Trumpet’ by Jackie Kay

30 September 2011

‘Trumpet’ is the first novel by the poet Jackie Kay. It was published in 1998 and is an intriguing and moving work. The death of a famous jazz trumpeter reveals a long-hidden secret which shocks those who knew the musician. The novel shows us the reactions of a range of people including family members, friends and those involved in the aftermath of the death such as the undertaker, the registrar and the journalist who wants to write an exposing biography. With each chapter allowing us to see things through the eyes of a particular individual, the novel inhabits a variety of voices, each believable and sympathetic. Their varying testimonies help to piece together the jigsaw of a life but Jackie Kay impressively keeps the reader hooked and eager for more without the assistance of any real forward narrative. Even the memories of the trumpeter’s life don’t really build into a linear story. It’s hard to describe but ‘Trumpet’ is a clever, beautifully written portrait of a life that is both sad and uplifting.  

Northumberland

30 September 2011

We had a lovely time in Northumberland last week. We were staying in the tiny hamlet of Thorngrafton, just South of Hadrian’s Wall – no far from the town of Haltwhistle, which claims to be the Centre of Britain. We did some great walks along the Wall, in Allendale and on the banks of Keilder Water. We visited the Housesteads and Vindolanda Roman forts. Vindolanda was particularly interesting – lots to see and new discoveries being made all the time. The collection of wooden tablets with messages inscribed on them in Latin was fascinating – the banality of many of the messages (an invitation to a party, a request to borrow something etc) reminding us that people in Roman Britain were not that different to ourselves (these tablets being the emails of their day!). I was also reminded that most of the ‘Romans’ building and protecting Hadrian’s Wall were not from Rome: they were mostly soldiers from conquered territories in Belgium and the Netherlands. Young men from Britain were similarly pressed into service as Roman soldiers in other corners of the Empire. 

'Atonement' by Ian McEwan

16 September 2011

For some years I have felt like I was the only person in the world who hadn’t read Ian McEwan’s 2001 novel ‘Atonement’. I’ve just finished the unabridged audio version of the book (wonderfully read by Carole Boyd) and I can now see what all the fuss was about. ‘Atonement’ starts in 1935 and appears to be firmly in the tradition of the great country house novel: it reminded me at times of ‘Brideshead Revisted’ and 'The Moonstone' by Wilkie Collins (reviewed here in June 2009). The third-person narration alternates, with each chapter, between the viewpoints of the main characters, slipping back a little in time with each change of perspective to fill in more details on some of the same events. This iterative approach to the narrative creates a jigsaw image of what happened that only gradually reveals itself. Later in the book, the passages dealing with the Second World War, play the same game more slowly as we spend longer in the company of each of three principal protagonists. This process of gradual revelation allows the reader to spot most of the main plot twists in advance – only for the author to undermine our smug satisfaction by casually confirming the predicted surprise as if it was assumed that everyone would already know. ‘Atonement’ deals with the end of childhood, both literally and in relation to the onset of the horrors of war. It also focuses on the changing nature of the English class system before and after the Second World War, much like 'The Little Stranger’ by Sarah Waters (reviewed here in June 2010). In both books an outsider from a lower social class has become attached to the family of the country house and this allows for reflections on the momentous changes happening in society at this time. But ‘Atonement’ is really about writing, the nature of fiction and the development of the novel. McEwan plays a dazzling game of meta-fiction, presenting an apparently conventional novel, then introducing self-reflective literary criticism of that novel within the same plot and finally pulling back to reveal the truth behind the construction of the story we have been immersed in. As you approach the final pages you realise that you should have been thinking about who was writing the words you have been reading and why. It’s an impressive work, beautifully written and heart-breakingly sad. I’m glad I finally got around to reading it.

‘The Hare With Amber Eyes’ by Edmund de Waal

9 September 2011

Netsuke are the tiny carved fasteners that were used to secure cords to traditional robes in 17^th century Japan. These intricately carved pieces of ivory, boxwood or metal are miniature sculptures that became highly valued as works of art. ‘The Hare With Amber Eyes’ by Edmund de Waal is an unusual and enthralling family history which focuses on a collection of netsuke bought in the late 19^th century and handed down through generations of the author’s family. The wealthy Jewish Ephrussi family, originally from Russia, settled across Europe in the second half of the 19^th century and, much like their contemporaries the Rothschilds, established a network of banks. The collection of netsuke are bought by Charles Ephrussi in Paris in the 1870s. Charles was a patron of the arts who commissioned works by many of the most famous impressionists – and appears as a figure in the background of some well-known paintings. Indeed the whole Ephrussi family has a Zelig-like ability to appear in the background of major historical events. Charles passed the netsuke, as a wedding present, to his nephew Victor in turn of the century Vienna where they go on to witness the trauma of two world wars. From here the netsuke end up returning to Japan, with Edmund de Waal’s great uncle Iggie, illuminating a fascinating account of post-war Japan. The book is like an extended episode of ‘Who Do You Think You Are?’ and the story of the Ephrussi family provides a compelling insight into European and Jewish history. Edmund de Waal is a potter and the netsuke are more than a mere device for him: he writes enthusiastically about the objects themselves and the artistry involved in their creation. Throughout the book he focuses on works of art, furniture and architecture as well as the personal and political history of his family. For me, the early chapters on Paris in the 1870s felt a little slow because of this fascination with the objects his ancestor commissioned and collected. But once we reached Vienna and the First World War the narrative became truly gripping. ‘The Hare with Amber Eyes’ is an amazing true story told in an interesting and artistic way.

'The Hour' by Abi Morgan

2 September 2011

I wrote here in April 2006 that I think the TV serial is the most satisfying of drama formats, allowing much greater character development than a play or film. It’s indicative of the decline of the format that it’s taken more than 5 years for me to discover a new drama to challenge for a place in my ‘Desert Island TV serials’, but finally along came Abi Morgan’s ‘The Hour’ on BBC2. ‘The Hour’ felt like an old-fashioned serial (I mean that as a compliment), not just because of its 1956 setting. It’s an exploration of the development of TV news, the political saga of Suez, a spy thriller and a murder mystery. Over 6 hour-long episodes ‘The Hour’ creates a cast of believable and rounded characters you really care about. The dialogue is carefully crafted and often very funny. It repeatedly made me think of the work of Dennis Potter – with mysterious spooks in raincoats loitering in the background as in ‘The Singing Detective’ as well as showing the changing nature of the British establishment through the Suez crisis as in ‘Lipstick on Your Collar’. ‘The Hour’ was excellently cast, with great performances particularly from Romala Garai, Dominic West, Anton Lesser and Tim Pigott-Smith, but the star of the show was undoubtedly the fascinating Ben Wishaw as Freddie Lyon. ‘The Hour’ was a perfect example of the TV drama serial – long enough to explore the characters in depth, but with a rounded plot which built to a climax with a final twist. I just hope they are not tempted to make a sequel.

'Super 8'

1 September 2011

If ‘Attack the Block’ (reviewed here in May 2011) was reminiscent of an old Children’s Film Foundation production (albeit with considerably more swearing and violence), J J Abrams’ new film ‘Super 8’ is Children’s Film Foundation with swearing, violence and big production values. The two films have plenty in common with a group of teenage boys (and one female interloper) battling aliens and the human authorities in each case. ‘Super 8’ clearly had a much bigger budget at its disposal – it was produced by Steven Spielberg and Abrams seems to have tried to create a homage to Spielberg with clear references to ‘ET’, ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind’ etc. ‘Super 8’ is set in 1979: a group of teenagers are shooting their own zombie movie using a handheld Super 8 camera when they witness a spectacular train crash and discover secrets they cannot reveal to anyone. As with ‘Attack the Block’, ‘Super 8’ has a very witty script with great interaction between the children. Both films succeed because they manage to make the incredible (encounters with extraterrestrial lifeforms) amazingly believable and realistic. ‘Super 8’ is not quite as brutal as the British film – though there are some violent deaths, you can mostly predict who is going to be safe. And the American kids are bit more polite and wholesome than their British counterparts (who begin ‘Attack the Block’ by mugging a nurse at knifepoint) but then this is rural small-town America, not urban South London. ‘Super 8’ is funny and enjoyable but also thrilling and genuinely scary. As it approaches its climax the film does become a little predictable and somewhat sentimental but it’s lots of fun with some wonderful performances, particularly from Joel Courtney as Joe and Elle Fanning as Alice.

Paris

1 September 2011

We had a lovely few days in Paris last week: I worked out that I hadn’t been there for 25 years so it felt like visiting for the first time. We had glorious weather and made very good use of open-top bus tours and boat trips on the Seine to explore all the main tourist attractions.  We went to Notre Dame, visited the Louvre and saw the Mona Lisa, travelled down the Champs-Élysées from the Place de la Concorde to the Arc de Triomphe and ended up at the Eiffel Tower, though we opted not to join the massive queues to climb the tower. Instead we travelled South to Montparnasse for the views from the top of the Tour Montparnasse – an ugly skyscraper which has the advantage that its views include the Eiffel Tower (and don’t include the Tour Montparnasse!). Paris is a very beautiful city: unusually most of the architecture dates from the same period – the 1860s when the whole central area was substantially rebuilt by Baron Haussmann. This gives Paris a very uniform look and the skyline is very flat, without the usual collection of skyscrapers, the highest of which tend to signify the main ‘downtown’ area of most big cities. Although he was responsible for the quintessential Parisian tree-lined boulevards, Haussmann didn’t create many green open spaces. There are a few parks: we particularly liked the Jardins du Luxembourg. We also travelled North to Montmartre and saw the Moulin Rouge and Sacre Coeur. We loved the art deco Metro signs and the masses of wrought iron railings lining each floor of buildings along the main boulevards. We had a great time discovering Paris and certainly plan to return well before another 25 years have elapsed. 

'Sense and Sensibility' by Jane Austen, adapted by Laura Turner

1 September 2011

The summer doesn’t seem complete without some open-air theatre, so it was a pleasure to return to the gardens of Woburn Abbey to see Chapterhouse Theatre Company’s production of ‘Sense and Sensibility’. We had very much enjoyed their ‘Pride and Prejudice’ last summer (reviewed here in July 2010) and this was equally impressive. It was a beautiful setting on a lovely evening and the acting was universally strong (we could hear every word!) with Heather Mason as Marianne Dashwood and Nicky Diss as her younger sister Margaret the stand-out performances.

'The Terrible Privacy of Maxwell Sim' by Jonathan Coe

19 August 2011

Jonathan Coe ranks alongside David Mitchell as one of my favourite contemporary novelists. Both write clever comic novels but their styles are quite different. Jonathan Coe’s writing appears more straightforward, without the linguistic tricks and stylistic ventriloquism that David Mitchell does so impressively. But Jonathan Coe’s more simple approach is deceptive: like David Lodge he writes light and accessible stories that contain complex themes and emotions which seep through the narrative rather than being rammed home. I’ve just finished reading Jonathan Coe’s latest novel ‘The Terrible Privacy of Maxwell Sim’ (as an unabridged audio book, read by Colin Buchanan). After the more serious departure of ‘The Rain Before It Falls’ (reviewed here in August 2008), this is a return to the comic adventures of Coe’s best known works, ‘What a Carve Up’ and ‘The Rotters Club’. Like those novels, ‘The Terrible Privacy of Maxwell Sim’ deals with themes of family relationships, technology and politics. In fact there are many themes lying beneath this humourous road trip across Britain (to sell toothbrushes in Shetland) and it was fun trying to decide which was the main purpose of the book. Is it really (as we are told towards the end) a study of the political and environmental implications of the toothbrush? Or is it a very subtle reflection on the banking crisis and the credit crunch? Surely the overriding focus is on loneliness: it is an often sad tale of a very lonely man suffering from depression who is embarking on a significant journey in both senses of the word. But, actually, I think ‘The Terrible Privacy of Maxwell Sim’ is ultimately about the act of writing. Max tells us his remarkable story in the first person, making it clear that he is an inexperienced an unconfident writer. His narrative is interspersed with a series of pieces of writing by his friends and family that he discovers on his journey. But it is hard to tell what is real and what is invented: who is faking their stories? This is a tale about fiction (and meta-fiction), very easy to get into and enjoy on the surface with much food for thought lurking beneath.