The Blockheads

27 November 2014

On Saturday we were at The Castle in Wellingborough to see The Blockheads (previously reviewed here in July 2007 and December 2012). The Blockheads always look like they are enjoying themselves. They are all excellent musicians and their energy level is immense. On Saturday they were joined by the amazing jazz saxophonist Gilad Atzmon – an incredibly talented musician who showed humility and respect for the band, taking a back seat apart from a few stand-out solos. The Blockheads are never less than outstanding but the scale and acoustics of the auditorium in Wellingborough, and a less-than-packed audience, made this a less exciting gig than the last time we saw them, in the more intimate surroundings of the Astor Community Theatre in Deal (in 2012). Nevertheless, it's always a pleasure to revisit their extensive back catalogue and you can't help but leave a Blockheads concert with a smile on your face.

Mark Steel

19 November 2014

This Monday was the third time we have seen the comedian Mark Steel at The Stables in Wavendon – and I think he has got better and better (I previously reviewed him here in June 2006 and May 2009). This week's performance was 'Mark Steel's Back in Town', building on the BBC Radio 4 series (reviewed here in January 2014) in which he constructs shows about the towns in which he is performing. The live version of the show exploited the growing body of stories he is amassing about the various towns he has visited – a sort of 'Mark Steel's in Town' greatest hits, featuring tales from Abergavenny, Aldershot, Hackney, Wigan and more. Then in the second half his focus was squarely on Milton Keynes. He does extensive research into each town and spends some time there before the show. On Monday he visited the museum at Bletchley Park, the Grand Union Canal and numerous roundabouts and was genuinely shocked to discover that the National Hockey Stadium is now the headquarters of Network Rail. His gentle ridiculing of a place and its people has much in common with Bill Bryson's travelogues – but Mark Steel is brave enough to mock a town in front of an audience of locals. He gets away with this by mixing criticism with wonder, enthusiasm and humility, helping us to celebrate, as well as laugh at, our locality. He has become a very accomplished performer, drawing on his research without interrupting the flow of a stand-up performance and conjuring scenes and characters with an impressive range of accents and physical acting. He's also incredibly funny. If Mark Steel's in your town, don't miss him!

Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert

19 November 2014

Last Saturday the Northampton Symphony Orchestra paid tribute to David Lack in a memorial concert at Christchurch in Northampton. Dave, who died in January, was the Principal Horn player in the NSO for many years. When I inherited that seat, at the start of Dave's illness, I always felt I was just keeping it warm for him. It still feels strange playing NSO concerts without him. Our programme on Saturday was one that Dave would have enjoyed playing. We started with the meaty 'Academic Festival Overture' by Brahms before playing the 'Horn Concerto No 1' by Richard Strauss with Katrina Lauder. Katrina was one of Dave's pupils and I know he was immensely proud of her as she developed a professional career as a horn player. Katrina's beautiful tone sounded wonderful in the cavernous acoustic of Christchurch, particularly in the haunting slow movement, and she nailed the fiendishly difficult finale at a breathtaking speed. I was also captivated by the rapid rippling arpeggios passed between the two flutes in the last movement – a beautiful moment exquisitely played by Mara Griffiths and Andrea Patis. The concert finished with Tchaikowsky's 'Symphony No 4', an exciting and exhausting work. Our conductor, John Gibbons, steered us to a thrilling performance, ending what was an emotional occasion with a feeling of triumph and joy. I think we did Dave proud and I know he would have enjoyed it.

'The Missing Hancocks' by Ray Galton and Alan Simpson

13 November 2014

I've always had a fascination with the work of Tony Hancock since discovering  that he died the day before I was born (my Mum remembers hearing the shocking news of Hancock's suicide while she was in the hospital maternity unit). I have listened to and watched many recordings of 'Hancock's Half Hour' and read several biographies of the man. For a time I even belonged to the Tony Hancock Appreciation Society (THAS). So I was particularly interested to hear that BBC Radio 4 was producing new versions of five of the episodes of 'Hancock's Half Hour' for which the original recordings were lost. 'The Missing Hancocks' have been produced by the actor Neil Pearson who discovered copies of the scripts by Ray Galton and Alan Simpson in his secondary career as an antiquarian book dealer. The new recordings are being broadcast on Friday mornings on Radio 4 to mark the 60th anniversary of 'Hancock's Half Hour'. Kevin McNally plays 'the lad himself', capturing Hancock's mannerisms perfectly but managing to create a properly comic performance, rather than a mere impersonation. These are early radio Half Hours (the first two dating from 1955 and 1956), which conjure up surreal situations with the full Hancock repertory company. The humour is not as sophisticated as the later pared-down classic TV episodes, but Galton and Simpson's writing is very polished – beautifully constructed 30 minute sitcom plots from an era when this format was relatively new. Some of the period references seem dated now but the characters are still great fun. Kevin Eldon plays the late lamented Bill Kerr (from a period before his character become a childlike simpleton) and Robin Sebastian is great as Kenneth Williams playing all the bit parts. I found Simon Greenall's Sid James a bit less successful but the show is a very faithful reproduction (complete with new recordings by the BBC Concert Orchestra of Wally Stott's original music) and fascinating to hear.

'Much Ado About Nothing or Love's Labour's Won' by William Shakespeare

7 November 2014

A few weeks ago we were at Charlecote, the Elizabethan manor house near Stratford-upon-Avon in Warwickshire, which is a now a National Trust property. On Thursday we were in Stratford to see Charlecote recreated on the stage of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre for Christopher Luscombe's Royal Shakespeare Company production of 'Much Ado About Nothing'. Simon Higlett's amazing set makes impressive use of the unique capacity of the RST to replicate the exterior of Charlecote, a drawing room, billiards room and chapel. The play is billed as 'Much Ado About Nothing or Love's Labour's Won', suggesting that Shakespeare's famous 'lost' play, 'Love's Labour's Won', might have just been an alternative title for the work we now know as 'Much Ado About Nothing'. Luscombe has used this idea to see 'Much Ado About Nothing' as a sequel to 'Love's Labour's Lost', producing the two plays as companion pieces using the same cast and set. He has placed 'Love's Labour's Lost' in a country estate on the eve of the First World War. That play ends with the young men departing to endure a period of hardship, separated from their lovers. 'Much Ado About Nothing', here set on the same estate in December 1918, opens with the soldiers returning from the Great War. It's an effective setting for a stylish production with lovely period costumes and the troubadour Balthasar becoming an Ivor Novello figure. 'Much Ado About Nothing' treads a fine line between comedy and tragedy but this production focussed on the comic. Beatrice imploring Benedick to “Kill Claudio” is often the moment that chilling reality pierces the jolly mood of the play but on Thursday this line got a laugh. Having decided to play it for laughs, the production was genuinely very funny. Michelle Terry as Beatrice and Edward Bennett as Benedick were excellent and their verbal jousting was perfectly timed. David Horovitch as Leonato and Thomas Wheatley as his brother Antonio looked uncannily like Captain Mainwaring and Sergeant Wilson from 'Dad's Army'. The Dogberry scenes in 'Much Ado About Nothing' are notoriously difficult to pull off. Clearly written as comic interludes they rarely seem funny to modern audiences. Dogberry's 'malapropisms' seem too well disguised for us to work out what word it was he really meant to say. But this production managed to make these scenes work in a way I haven't seen before. The constable and his deputy, in period police uniforms, suggested the surreal world of Flann O'Brien's 'The Third Policeman' (reviewed here in April 2007) – complete with bicycle. And the use of some great physical comedy effectively distracted from any verbal gags missing their targets. Most of all, the subtle suggestion of First World War shellshock hand tremors made Nick Haverson's Dogberry a surprisingly sympathetic character.

Elvis Costello/Georgie Fame and The Blue Flames

30 October 2014

Growing up in Manchester, Leigh-born Georgie Fame was a local musical hero, frequently appearing as a guest soloist with some of the local youth bands and orchestras. Last time I saw Georgie Fame, he was playing in Van Morrison's band at a concert at the Royal Albert Hall some years ago. This week he was again accompanying Van Morrison at the Albert Hall on Tuesday but I saw him there on Wednesday, with his band The Blue Flames, as part of the London Blues Fest, sharing the bill with Elvis Costello. Georgie Fame's band included Alec Dankworth on bass (who I performed with many years ago – but that's another story) and the excellent Guy Barker on trumpet. Georgie Fame is now 71 years old but his distinctive voice is still fantastic – a mellow vocal trumpet.

I'm a big fan of Elvis Costello but this was the first time I had seen him live. Rock stars who have been around for decades typically face the dilemma, in their concerts, of whether to play the old familiar favourites or to try out their new material. Too often, these days, technology allows bands to reproduce the precise sound of their recordings in live performance, leaving you wondering why you didn't just stay at home and listen to the album. Refreshingly, in his live performances, Elvis Costello explores his extensive back catalogue, including his biggest hits, in new ways, never sounding like the original recording. This was a mostly solo performance, Elvis accompanying himself on guitar but being joined by his long-time collaborator Steve Nieve on the grand piano for some almost classical re-workings of songs including 'Accidents Will Happen' and 'Pills and Soap'. Elvis Costello was an enthusiastic performer, an entertaining raconteur and a dapper figure in dark grey three-piece suit, white trilby and pointed purple shoes. He said he had intended to choose a programme on the themes of love, lies, deceit and infidelity but then realised he had written more than 400 songs about love, lies, deceit and infidelity so that hadn't helped to narrow down his choice! It was fascinating to hear Elvis singing songs he originally wrote for other people, such as 'Almost Bue' (written for Chet Baker) and 'The Comedians' (for Roy Orbison). And to hear his interpretations of other people's songs, including 'She' (by Charles Aznavour and Herbert Kretzmer), 'Walking My Baby Back Home' (written in 1930 by Roy Turk and Fred E. Ahlert) and a Mose Allison song (for which he was joined on stage by Georgie Fame). It says something about the depth of his repertoire that Elvis Costello could perform for almost two hours and still manage to save for the encore 'Shipbuilding', 'Oliver's Army' and '(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding'. He finished the evening with the microphones switched off for an unamplified performance of 'Couldn't Call It Unexpected No. 4', a beautifully haunting song from his 1991 album 'Mighty Like a Rose' (which Costello and Richard Harvey adapted for Alan Bleasdale's epic TV drama serial 'GBH'). It was a brilliant concert and a real privilege to be there.

'The Bone Clocks' by David Mitchell

27 October 2014

A new novel by David Mitchell always feels like an event and 'The Bone Clocks' (which I've just finished reading as an unabridged audio book, narrated by Jessica Ball, Leon Williams, Colin Mace, Steven Crossley, Laurel Lefkow and Anna Bentinck) did not disappoint. Mitchell is one of my favourite contemporary novelists and I have read all six of his novels. His last work 'The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet’ (reviewed here in August 2011) felt like an epic, but 'The Bone Clocks' is even longer (the audio version lasting 24.5 hours). Having lived in Japan, David Mitchell is a big admirer of Huraki Murakami and it seems too much of a coincidence not to suppose that 'The Bone Clocks' might have been influenced by Murakami's recent mammoth novel '1Q84' (reviewed here in April 2012). '1Q84' opens with a young woman climbing down the emergency stairs from a Tokyo expressway and entering a surreal parallel world, while in 'The Bone Clocks' a teenage girl runs into an underpass beneath a dual carriageway in Kent and observes a gateway opening to another world. The fact that this happens in 1984 is surely not a coincidence. 'The Bone Clocks' is David Mitchell's most 'Cloud Atlas'-like book since 'Cloud Atlas. Both have an episodic structure with sudden leaps from one section to the next, each with a different first-person narrator (the different points of view being very effectively emphasised in the audio version by use of a new reader for each section). Both books span centuries and extend into the future, entering science fiction territory. But 'The Bone Clocks' is more of a single story, compared to the loosely linked narratives of 'Cloud Atlas'. And that story is the tale of Holly Sykes, a teenager living in Gravesend when we first encounter her in 1984, whose life will become inextricably linked with the survival of the planet. Like Haruki Murakami, David Mitchell creates a meticulously believable real-world narrative into which he inserts aspects of magical realism. But, unlike Murakami, Mitchell tends to tie-up the loose ends and 'The Bone Clocks' very satisfyingly explains and resolves its fantastical elements. David Mitchell is also a very playful author – his novels all contain disguised references to each other and 'The Bone Clocks' continues this tradition as well as incorporating a major character from 'The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet’. Mitchell even goes so far as to make one his characters a writer so that he can quote a review of one of that writer's novels which says “The fantasy subplot clashes so violently with the book’s State of the World pretensions, I cannot bear to look ... What surer sign is there that the creative aquifers are dry than a writer creating a writer-character?”. This is very entertaining meta-fiction (though David Mitchell has had to deny rumours that his fictional author Crispin Hershey is supposed to be Martin Amis). 'The Bone Clocks' is a state of the world novel, dealing with Iraq, climate change and the perils of our dependence on declining reserves of fossil fuels. It is also a fantasy novel, featuring pre-cognition, telepathy and battles between warring factions of immortal 'superheroes'. It's a complicated, enthralling, hugely entertaining epic novel – highly recommended.

'Love is Strange' by Ira Sachs

23 October 2014

On Thursday evening I was at the Glasgow Film Theatre for a screening of Ira Sachs' new film 'Love is Strange', presented as part of both the Luminate Festival and Glasgay! Alfred Molina and John Lithgow play George and Ben, an elderly gay couple who have lived very happily together in New York for 39 years. But when they decide to get married, their world begins to fall apart. George loses his job teaching in a Catholic school and they can no longer afford their apartment. While they search for an affordable alternative they have to sleep on the sofas and bunk beds of friends and family. The pain of living apart from each other after so many years together is evident. And the strain of living in other people's homes is cleverly depicted. 'Love is Strange' is a delicate, subtle, intelligent film. Much is said without the need for words, with numerous close-ups of unspeaking faces telling you much more about the characters' feelings than the dialogue does. The film is beautifully shot, with the trees, streets and skyline of Manhattan becoming part of the cast of characters. There's also a lot of Chopin – sometimes deliberately obscuring the dialogue (though it was very distracting to have two scenes where different characters were shown playing a piano they clearly weren't playing – why bother showing the hands in that case?). One beautiful scene sums up the best aspects of the film: Ben's nephew's wife Kate (Marisa Tomei) is trying to write a novel in her living room while Ben is innocently chatting to her, oblivious to the fact he is constantly interrupting her work. Kate grows more and more frustrated – we can observe the strain growing on her face (unseen by Ben) and we are waiting for the point at which she is clearly going to snap at him. But before this comes Ben's chatter turns into a moan about how annoying it is when Kate's son Joey thoughtlessly interrupts Ben while he is trying to complete a painting. Kate's frustration dissolves into a smile without a word. As Ben says: “When you live with people, you know them better than you care to”. 'Love is Strange' is gentle but powerful, incredibly sad but ultimately uplifting. It will be on general release from February 2015.

'Every Picture Tells My Story' by Hugh Campbell

23 October 2014

On Thursday afternoon I was at the Haining Centre – a nursing home in Falkirk – for 'Every Picture Tells My Story' – a Luminate Festival event. Haining resident Hugh Campbell had created a noticeboard depicting the story of his life through text and photos, and talked us through some of the key episodes. Hugh was an entertaining raconteur and it was fascinating to piece together the personal history of the man sitting in front of us. We learned about Hugh's childhood: he was brought up by his grandmother and aunt as his parents couldn't cope with rearing six children. He saw active service in the Second World War and, after an apprenticeship in a local foundry, Hugh went on to enjoy a 30-year career as a bus conductor, getting to know his regular passengers well, including the young midwife who he went on marry. He told us about his love of ballroom dancing, the music of Daniel O'Donnell and Mediterranean cruises. In telling his story, apart from an occasional lapse of memory, Hugh was very sharp and I was genuinely amazed to discover that he is 95 years old: he seems at least ten years younger. He clearly still has an eye for the ladies and took a lively interest in one young woman in the audience who was a mere 65 years his junior! At the end of the session she had her photo taken with Hugh to provide another addition to his notice board. Hugh's key message was that he doesn't feel old, he feels like he is getting younger rather than older, and he's not finished his story yet.

'Love Me Do' by Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran

21 October 2014

On Saturday evening we were at Watford Palace Theatre to see 'Love Me Do', a new play by Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran. Set in 1962, during the Cuban missile crisis, the play focuses on a young American woman stranded in London, wondering whether she will ever see her husband and children again. Making playful use of physical theatre techniques, and with a cast of five actors creating a host of colourful characters, Co-Directors Brigid Larmour and Shona Morris evoked early 1960s London as an entertaining and slightly sinister foreign country. Marks and Gran cleverly avoided the period drama trap of giving the characters knowing hindsight from a contemporary perspective by using two Americans adrift in London to point out the outdated idiosyncrasies of English life (eg "Yellow Pages?" - "they don't have them here yet"). But, for me, there wasn't quite enough plot and a few ideas seemed under-developed. Calling the main character, who is desperate to get back to Kansas, Dorothy might have had more impact if the 'Wizard of Oz' reference hadn't been blatantly pointed out by one of the characters early in the play. Nevertheless Sara Topham and Robert Curtis made a believable odd-couple thrust together in a crisis - in the manner of a classic Hollywood screwball comedy.

Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert

21 October 2014

In 1982 the Scottish trumpeter, John Wallace, gave the premiere performance of Malcolm Arnold's 'Trumpet Concerto' at the Royal Albert Hall in London. John Wallace's 1984 recording with the Bournemouth Sinfonietta is still the only time this short but fiendishly difficult concerto has been recorded. So it was very exciting, last Saturday, to have the opportunity to perform Arnold's 'Trumpet Concerto' at the Derngate in Northampton with John Wallace. The Northampton Symphony Orchestra, conducted for the first time by John Gibbons, had been invited to open the ninth Malcolm Arnold Festival with a morning concert of works by Arnold and other 20th century English composers. As well as the 'Trumpet Concerto' we played Arnold's 'A Flourish for Orchestra' and his mighty 'Peterloo Overture' (which was commissioned by the Trades Union Congress to mark its centenary in 1968). Our programme also included the beautiful 'Rhapsody, A Shropshire Lad' by George Butterworth, Ralph Vaughan Williams' 'March Past of the Kitchen Utensils' from 'The Wasps', and the wonderful suite from the 1936 film 'Things To Come' by Sir Arthur Bliss. Between these pieces young musicians from the Malcolm Arnold Academy performed the movements of Arnold's rarely heard ‘Miniature Suite'. But the highlight of the morning was undoubtedly John Wallace's brilliant performance of the 'Trumpet Concerto', accompanied by the Northampton Symphony Orchestra (in which Malcolm Arnold himself played the trumpet in his youth) and finishing with a glorious, stratospheric major third between the soloist and NSO's Principal Trumpet, Nick Bunker.

'Me Talk Pretty One Day' by David Sedaris

16 October 2014

The American humourist David Sedaris is now such a familiar figure on BBC Radio 4 it is hard to read his essays without hearing his voice in your head. I've been reading his collection published in 2000, 'Me Talk Pretty One Day'. It's a good sample of the David Sedaris style – a neurotic, sarcastic, self-deprecating collection of personal experiences. I know his writing is not to everyone's taste – his amusing observations of foreigners can sail close to racism and he sometimes succeeds in his attempts to persuade you that he's not a very nice person. But his prose is beautifully constructed and can be incredibly funny. I liked this opening to 'The Learning Curve' in which “a terrible mistake was made” and the recently graduated Sedaris was offered a position teaching a writing workshop:

“The position was offered at the last minute, when the scheduled professor found a better-paying job delivering pizza. …. Like branding steers or embalming the dead, teaching was a profession I had never seriously considered. I was clearly unqualified, yet I accepted the job without hesitation, as it would allow me to wear a tie and go by the name of Mr Sedaris.”

'Everybody Down' by Kate Tempest

7 October 2014

It's not often that a rapper is featured on BBC Radio 4's Today programme, but Kate Tempest is not your average rapper. Last month, the day after her new album 'Everybody Down' was shortlisted for the Mercury music prize, Kate Tempest was selected by the Poetry Book Society as one its Next Generation poets. The 27-year old from South East London studied music at the Brit School and poetry at Goldsmiths College. Intrigued, I thought I would listen to 'Everybody Down' but I have to admit that when I first played the opening track my immediate reaction was that hip-hop really isn't my kind of music and I very nearly gave up on the album. Something persuaded me to persevere and I decided to reserve judgement until I had listened to the whole thing. I realised I really needed to give my full attention to the words and treat 'Everybody Down' like a radio play, written in verse, with background music – rather than thinking of it as an album of songs. The 12 tracks form a single continuous story with excellently drawn characters and I found myself rooting for Becky as her family and friends pull her into a world of criminality, drug-dealing and violence. There is some wonderful word-play:  

I’m in a mess, I can’t help it
I just go round and round
I’m paranoid, I’m selfish
Push me, I clam up, I’m shellfish
We had a dream, I shelved it
That eats me up, that’s Elvis
Las Vegas era
I’m half bag lady, half Bagheera

And the more I listened the more I fell for the words, the characters and the story. I've since learned that Kate Tempest is working on transferring the characters from Everybody Down into a novel, due to be published next year, which will begin where the album ends and will also include characters from two of her three stage plays (one of which was commissioned by Paines Plough). Clearly Kate Tempest is a name to watch.

'Colin Gray: a journey with his parents through love, life and death'

3 October 2014

While I was in Edinburgh this week I visited North Edinburgh Arts Centre to see an exhibition of photographs by Colin Gray, presented as part of Luminate 2014 – Scotland's Creative Ageing Festival (of which I am a Trustee). 'Colin Gray: a journey with his parents through love, life and death' is a selection of works documenting Gray's 34 year collaborative journey with his parents. It includes work from 'The Parents' series, which started in 1980; from 'In Sickness and in Health', photographs that explored his parents' older age and his mother's death; and a preview of new work from 'Do Us Part', his ongoing series of images of his father and daughter. Many of the photos are playful and funny – showing Gray's ageing parents retaining a childlike sense of fun. I particularly enjoyed the picture of them sailing down an imaginary stream in their garden in an old bathtub. In contrast, the pictures of Colin Gray's mother's final days are incredibly sad – including candid shots of her in a hospital bed and her corpse in the coffin. And the scenes of her husband grieving alone are painful and moving, including a close-up of his wrinkled neck enclosed by collar and black tie. But the exhibition ends with pictures of Gray's father with his granddaughter comforting him, providing a warm final image that shows continuity of life into the next generation.

Baltic Cruise

3 October 2014

Our Baltic cruise on the P&O ship Adonia was a wonderful holiday. We sailed through the Kiel canal in North Germany and spent a couple of days in Kiel, during which we took a train to the pretty medieval town of Lubeck which I last visited with the Manchester Youth Orchestra nearly 30 years ago. Some parts of the town were familiar but I failed to find the bar in which the orchestra's leader Angela Ceasar wowed the locals, singing 'Summertime' with the house band. From Germany we sailed to Estonia, stopping at the beautiful island of Saaremaa before spending a day in Talinn. Talinn is a fairytale city – like a Disneyland version of a medieval European town. The architecture is reminiscent of Switzerland or Austria but more brightly coloured and with some clear Russian influences. We loved Talinn's narrow cobbled streets, high town walls and stunning central square. Our next port of call was St Petersburg – my first visit to Russia. St Petersburgh is an amazing place – intimidating and austere on the outskirts, with a magnificent city centre. Like Paris, the centre of St Petersburg was designed and built as a single project, giving the streets and buildings a consistency missing from most major cities. There are some incredibly impressive buildings, dominated for me by the Church of Our Saviour over Spilled Blood – an incredibly colourful, extravagant, onion-spired showpiece of a building. We also visited the Hermitage – an enormous museum which reminded me of the Louvre in Paris (and can be similarly crowded, though it wasn't too bad when we were there). We had a guided tour of the Hermitage and saw works by Rembrandt, Cezanne, Monet, Renoir, Van Gogh and Leonardo da Vinci. Our visit to Stockholm was also dominated by a fantastic museum: the Vasa Museum houses the preserved remains of a warship which sank in 1628. The museum gives a fascinating insight into the history of the period, through a series of displays all linked to the Vasa itself, ever-present as you walk around the four floors which provide a range of views over the huge ship. It's brilliantly done – one of the best museums I have ever visited. We were similarly charmed by the much smaller David Collection in Copenhagen which includes extensive displays of early Islamic art, beautifully presented with lots of background information about the history of much of the Middle East and North Africa. It was great to return to Copenhagen – one of my favourite European cities. Regular readers will be relieved to know that we finally managed to see the Little Mermaid. You can see a selection of my holiday photos at: http://www.culturaloutlook.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Baltic2014.

'Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage' by Haruki Murakami

11 September 2014

The Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami combines critical acclaim with huge popularity and the publication of a new Murakami book now feels like a major event. I'm very much a fan and I rushed to read his latest novel, 'Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage' (which I read as an unabridged audio book, translated by Philip Gabriel and narrated by Michael Fenton Stevens). After the enormous magical saga of Murakami's previous book, ''1Q84' (reviewed here in April 2012), 'Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage' is a smaller, calmer, more serious work. There is no magic realism (though the symbolism of erotic dreams again plays a significant part). This is essentially a gentle love story. Tsukuru Tazaki is a 36-year old engineer whose life has been haunted by the mystery of his sudden expulsion, 16 years ago, from a close group of school-friends. Tsukuru never knew why his four best friends suddenly rejected him and finally decides to try to find out what happened. Murakami's writing has a compellingly odd quality. His prose is terribly precise and careful and most of his characters behave in a very logical, straightforward way, but somehow he makes you feel the presence of something deeply mysterious and intriguing in his narrative. Nothing appears to be missed out but you get the impression that the most important things are not being said. Tsukuru Tazaki is likeable and sympathetic but a little dull – but is there anything wrong with being an empty vessel? I enjoyed being back in the strange world of Haruki Murakami and found myself gripped by Tsukuru's pilgrimage, though I missed the humour of some of the earlier novels.

'All The Things You Are' by Leon Fleisher

5 September 2014

“Writing about music is like dancing about architecture” is an often mis-attributed quotation which appears to have been coined by the comedian Martin Mull (see http://quoteinvestigator.com/2010/11/08/writing-about-music/ for a lengthy investigation of its origins). As a musician I often find written descriptions of pieces of music (particularly in novels) excruciating. (And don't even get me started on the common misuse of the term 'crescendo'!) So it was a pleasure to come across two excellent pieces of writing this week that sent me scurrying off to listen, not just to the works in question but to the particular recordings that the authors were describing. I rarely listen to solo piano music, so it is an additional testimony to these pieces of writing that both were about this genre.

I've just started reading the new novel by Haruki Murakami, 'Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage', and I was intrigued by this passage: “As they listened to one piano recording, Tsukuru realised that he'd heard the composition many times in the past. He didn't know the title, however, or the composer. It was a quiet, sorrowful piece that began with a slow, memorable theme, played out as single notes, then proceeded into a series of tranquil variations. Tsukuru looked up from a book he was reading and asked Haida what it was. “Franz Liszt’s 'Le Mal du Pays' – it's from his 'Years of Pilgrimage' suite, Year One: Switzerland ... The piece seems simple technically but it's hard to get the expression right: play it just as it's written on the score and it winds up pretty boring, but go the opposite route and interpret it too intensely and it sounds cheap. Just the way you use the pedal makes all the difference and can change the entire character of the piece.” “Who's the pianist here?” “A Russian – Lazar Berman. When he plays Liszt it's like he's painting a delicately imagined landscape … there aren't many living pianists who can play it accurately and with such beauty. Among more contemporary pianists, Berman gets it right.”” Apparently copies of Lazar Berman's CD sold out almost immediately after the publication of Murakami’s novel, and a new release is now planned.

I also loved this New Yorker article by Alex Ross: http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2014/09/08/classical-cloud , which persuaded me to listen to the pianist Leon Fleisher's album 'All the Things You Are' – an eclectic collection which includes pieces by Bach, George Perle, Gershwin and Jerome Kern. Ross writes: “In the mid-nineteen-sixties, Fleisher began suffering from focal dystonia, and for several decades he lost the use of his right hand. Eventually, thanks to experimental treatments, he returned to playing with both hands, but he still gravitates toward the left-hand repertory, much of which was commissioned by the Austrian pianist Paul Wittgenstein, one of the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein’s brothers, who lost an arm during the First World War. Fleisher has expanded that repertory further, and draws upon it in 'All the Things You Are'. The central work is Bach’s 'Chaconne in D Minor for violin', arranged as a left-hand piano exercise by Brahms. In a letter to Clara Schumann, Brahms told of his love for the Chaconne – “a whole world of the deepest thoughts and most powerful feelings” – and said that he enjoyed struggling in solitude to execute it with one hand, because “one does not always want to hear music actually played.” The miracle of Fleisher’s account is that, while he performs with astonishing dexterity, he retains that atmosphere of exploration, as if no one were listening. The most wrenching passage in the Chaconne comes toward the end, when, after an upward-striving, light-seeking section in D major, there is a shuddering collapse back into the minor. Here, as sonorous, multi-register figuration gives way to spare, confined lines, you may remember what you might have forgotten, that the pianist is using one hand, and that the impairment of the other has caused him much sorrow.”

Edinburgh Festivals 2014

28 August 2014

Last week we were in Edinburgh, marking the 20th anniversary of our first visit to the Edinburgh festivals. For several years we went every August but then restricted our visits to every other year, so I'm not sure how many times we have been in total but we've certainly seen a lot of shows. This year we saw 26 performances in the 6 days we were in Edinburgh.

As usual we took advantage of some of the free BBC Radio shows at Potterrow, starting the day with BBC Radio Scotland's 'MacAulay and Co', with Fred MacAulay and Susan Calman introducing a wide selection of the best comedy acts on the Fringe. We also enjoyed an excellent edition of Radio 3's 'The Verb' hosted by the inimitable Ian McMillan.

The PBH Free Fringe continues to grow in scale and stature. We saw some wonderful free shows, including 'Prufrock and Me' – a personal account of one man's relationship to T. S. Eliot's poem 'The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock' by Dave Williams – and stand-up comedian Josh Howie's clever, edgy and hilarious show 'AIDS: A Survivor's Story' in which nothing was quite what it seemed.

We saw two Edinburgh International Festival performances - both in huge venues that were completely sold out. The James Plays – Rona Munro's new history play cycle, directed by Laurie Sansom for the National Theatre of Scotland and the National Theatre of Great Britain, have been the talk of the festival. We saw 'James I' at the Festival Theatre and it did not disappoint – it was ambitious, spectacular, fascinating and surprisingly funny. Munro has created a drama that bears comparison with Shakespeare's history plays, but uses modern language to give the action a contemporary feel. Having recently seen 'Richard II', 'Henry IV Parts 1 & 2' and 'Henry V', 'James I' felt like a natural next step as it starts with Henry V of England releasing James after 18 years in captivity to take his place on the throne of Scotland. We also saw a fantastic concert at the Usher Hall where Scottish violinist Nicola Benedetti got a deservedly rapturous reception for her performance of Erich Korngold's 'Violin Concerto' with the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Jiří Bělohlávek. The concert concluded with Martinu's lovely 'Symphony No 4' with the Czech Philharmonic on top form.

We visited the Edinburgh International Book Festival in Charlotte Square to see our new favourite novelist Ned Beauman promoting his latest book 'Glow' (reviewed here in June 2014). He shared the platform with the young Austrian novelist Clemens J Setz and I am looking forward to reading the first of his novels to be translated into English, 'Indigo'.

It was great to rediscover the zany musical world of New York's Kenny Young and The Eggplants who we first saw on the Fringe about 18 years ago. They played at the Acoustic Music Centre at St Bride's in front of an enthusiastic audience who seemed to know all their lyrics - 'aubergenius!' as one review said. We saw a few comedians including the ramblingly brilliant 'Simon Munnery sings Soren Kierkegaard' and an old Fringe favourite of ours, Owen O'Neill, this year performing in the 'spoken word' section of the Fringe with a mixture of storytelling and poetry.

But most of our week was spent watching some wonderful fringe theatre, the highlights being 'Last Christmas' – a monologue by Matthew Bulgo about a man returning home to Swansea a year after his father died of a heart attack, performed by Sion Pritchard at the Assembly George Square Studios, which was warm, funny and very moving – and 'The Initiate' by Alexandra Wood, performed by Paines Plough at Summerhall, which told the story of the reaction of a Somali-born taxi driver in London to the kidnap of a British couple by Somali pirates. It was a very clever play, excellently acted by three actors (Andrew French, Sian Reese-Williams and Abdul Salis) without the need for any set, props or costumes, in which the unseen events between the scenes created an intriguing ambiguity and really made you think about the morality and motivation of the characters.

We had an exhaustingly wonderful week in Edinburgh.

'The Last Dragonslayer' by Jasper Fforde

14 August 2014

Regular readers will be aware of my enthusiasm for the work of the comic-novelist Jasper Fforde. Having exhausted his books for adults (all ten novels reviewed here between April 2007 and April 2012) I thought I would try his 'Dragonslayer' young-adult fantasy novels. I've just finished the first book in the series, 'The Last Dragonslayer' (which I read as an unabridged audio book, narrated by Jane Collingwood). It was a very enjoyable read – with much more in common with his other novels than I was expecting. This tale of dragons, wizards and magic is set in an alternative-reality version of Hereford (a similar model to the Reading of the Nursery Crimes novels and the Swindon of the Thursday Next series). We follow the perilous journey of teenager Jennifer Strange as she is drawn by her destiny into a struggle with royalty, the media, big business and big magic. There are some familiar Jasper Fforde themes and some recognisable villains, though this feels like a very stripped down version of Thursday Next and I was sorry there wasn't more of Fforde's trademark silliness. Nevertheless 'The Last Dragonslayer' is great fun, with some great characters. I loved the trivia-expert William of Anorak and the apprentice dragonslayer Gordon van Gordon, and who couldn't love the Quarkbeast with his one-word vocabulary. “Quark!”

'Skylight' by David Hare

5 August 2014

On Sunday we made a first visit to the wonderful Errol Flynn Filmhouse in Northampton – a delightful little cinema with some of the most comfy seats I've encountered – to see the recent NT Live recording of David Hare's play 'Skylight' at the Wyndham's Theatre in London. I had heard a radio version of the play during its first run in 1995, but this was the first time I had seen it. It's a clever, subtle piece of writing, with three actors in a single room set, teasing out political themes through a very personal story. Stephen Daldry's production created a very realistic setting (with a wonderfully squalid set by Bob Crowley) and the acting by Bill Nighy (reprising his role from the original 1995 production), Carey Mulligan (making her London stage debut) and Matthew Beard was excellent. The NT Live cameras revealed some very delicate touches in close-up that added to the painful reality of the situation. Carey Mulligan's incredibly expressive face managed to say much more than appears in the script and she generated an impressive volume of real tears. The play was much funnier than I had remembered and Bill Nighy delivered some brilliant set-piece lines in the uncomprehending deadpan manner than has become his trademark.