Arts Reviews

The good, bad and ugly in arts and exhbitions

Saturday

Lloyd Evans Lloyd Evans

Bourgeois frippery

Regime change at Hampstead Theatre. The era of special measures is over and Ed Hall, son of Sir Peter, has taken charge. Hall’s debut show is daring in its complete lack of audacity. Regime change at Hampstead Theatre. The era of special measures is over and Ed Hall, son of Sir Peter, has taken charge. Hall’s debut show is daring in its complete lack of audacity. Shelagh Stephenson’s new play Enlightenment is the sort of bourgeois frippery we were used to yawning through under the previous administration. We’re in a posh house in Angstead Garden Suburb where two yuppie liberals are struggling to cope with the disappearance of their gap-year

Kate Chisholm

Women of substance

Jude Kelly missed a trick when she set off in search of that very British creation, the battleaxe, for this week’s Archive on 4. Jude Kelly missed a trick when she set off in search of that very British creation, the battleaxe, for this week’s Archive on 4. The stage director and now head of the South Bank Centre in London gave us Ena Sharples and Hattie Jacques, Hyacinth Bucket and Thora Hird but no hair-rollered hyenas from the radio files. Maybe the typical battleaxe was just too loud, too mouthy to work as a caricature on air? Maybe Sharples needed her hairnet and hatchet face as visual props for

James Delingpole James Delingpole

Back to basics

One of the few professional stand-up comics I’ve met who wasn’t bitter, twisted, malign, graceless, grumpy, chippy, egomaniacal and slightly to the left of Stalin is Mark Billingham. One of the few professional stand-up comics I’ve met who wasn’t bitter, twisted, malign, graceless, grumpy, chippy, egomaniacal and slightly to the left of Stalin is Mark Billingham. We bonded at the Dubai literary festival earlier this year, and I liked him so much that I very nearly bought one of his bestselling crime thrillers. The reason I didn’t in the end was that I decided a) if I liked it, it would make me jealous and hate him, b) if I

Ursula Buchan

French foray

One surefire sign of maturity is the acceptance that you have friends who are more talented than you are. I learnt that lesson early, which, considering my manifold shortcomings, was just as well, frankly. I have mates who are better practical gardeners than I am, and ones who are more creative garden designers. I like to think that this is not so much a source of deflation or envy as a spur to my ambition. The spur pricked recently in France. I had been invited by Clare Whateley, of French Gardens Today, to join a very jolly small party of knowledgeable gardeners who were visiting gardens in northern Brittany. I

Wednesday

Kate Maltby Kate Maltby

THEATRE: Review – Broken Glass

It’s November 1938 and Sylvia, a paranoid Jewish woman in Brooklyn, is struck by hysterical paralysis.  But what’s really constricting her: fear of Germany’s Nazis or fear of her husband at home?   There’s something crude and jagged about Arthur Miller’s late play, Broken Glass, but in the Tricycle Theatre’s new production, it’s given a bright sparkle, thanks to a near flawless ensemble cast.  For Miller, as he told his collaborator David Thacker  the title Broken Glass signified not only Kristallnacht, which obsesses Sylvia, but also the moment in the Jewish marriage ceremony when the bridegroom shatters a glass goblet under his foot.  According to some rabbinical traditions, the moment

Saturday

Lloyd Evans Lloyd Evans

Arts debate: ‘Brutal and vulgar’

From the start, the combatively worded motion — ‘Time for the arts to stand on its own two feet and stop sponging off the tax-payer’ — came under attack in the Spectator arts debate at Church House last month. From the start, the combatively worded motion — ‘Time for the arts to stand on its own two feet and stop sponging off the tax-payer’ — came under attack in the Spectator arts debate at Church House last month. Speaking for the motion were Nigel Farage MEP, Tiffany Jenkins and Marc Sidwell; against were Ben Bradshaw MP, Matthew Taylor and the Culture Secretary Ed Vaizey, who called it ‘brutal, vulgar, left-wing,

Andrew Lambirth

A place to dream

As regular readers of this column will know, I am not an admirer of large exhibitions. The exhaustive is exhausting, and I refuse to believe that the general visitor can absorb the contents of a blockbuster show on a single viewing. Of course in these days of enforced leisure, more and more viewers are able to return to exhibitions (particularly if mounted by institutions of which they are members), though the time and expense involved deters those with jobs from making repeated visits. Vast exhibitions are designed to bring glory on the host museum and garner headlines as well as visitor numbers. The sheer size of them is supposed to

Olivia Glazebrook

The Great Escape

Hollywood’s gloss on reality makes Olivia Glazebrook want to weep. Why can’t the Americans learn from the French? When Hollywood wants to captivate an audience of ‘grown-ups’ — those who have become desperate to escape the awful dreariness and suffering of their everyday lives — it shows them an alternative soothing world into which they can be plugged, for just a few hours. These poor suckers — we’ll call them ‘cinema-goers’ — yearn for this glossy, idealised world, which will be not a dream (because dreams can be puzzling and obtuse) but a calming vision, populated by beautiful characters who will look human, but not too human. These characters will

Deborah Ross

Enough is enough

Really? This was necessary? Why? What’s the point? OK, I suppose revisiting Wall Street all these years later is timely, given the banking crisis and resultant global meltdown. Really? This was necessary? Why? What’s the point? OK, I suppose revisiting Wall Street all these years later is timely, given the banking crisis and resultant global meltdown. I’ll allow you that, albeit grudgingly. But this is celebratory in tone, rather than outraged. You will want to shake it and shout, ‘Goddamn it, get angry!’ It sheds no new light on anything. It says zilch. There is no point. It simply recycles the same morality fable, and the same characters, right down

Lloyd Evans Lloyd Evans

Short and sweet | 9 October 2010

Who’s my favourite stage actress? Since you ask, Olivia Williams in Shakespeare and Nancy Carroll in anything. Who’s my favourite stage actress? Since you ask, Olivia Williams in Shakespeare and Nancy Carroll in anything. Currently, she’s starring in the weirdest show I’ve ever seen at the Almeida in Islington. Weird because it’s so predictable. The Almeida likes to attract the purists rather than the tourists and it seeks out half-forgotten masterpieces or wacky new experiments. If you want Carpathian tragedy or biblical mock-epic or Inuit slapstick, then the Almeida’s the place to look. A stage version of a David Mamet movie is positively abnormal by its standards. House of Games,

George Hull

Family Circle

‘We’re a beastly family, and I hate us!’ laments Sorel Bliss in Hay Fever. And at first it seems all four Blisses share that sentiment. ‘We’re a beastly family, and I hate us!’ laments Sorel Bliss in Hay Fever. And at first it seems all four Blisses share that sentiment. Each has invited a guest to their house in Cookham, and appears to be hoping not just for a weekend of feverish passion but also for a permanent escape: as much from themselves as from the others. When the guests arrive, however, the Blisses taunt and ignore them by turns. As for feverish passion, it seems readily transferable. Sorel exchanges

Michael Tanner

Visual tricks

Any seasoned opera-goer is likely to have had the experience of attending a performance where most things are right, but the overall impression is dismal; and also where, even more puzzlingly, most things are wrong but somehow the total effect is good or even overwhelming. To some extent it is relative to the work being performed, but not entirely; and to a much greater extent it depends on what your expectations are — I always try to have low ones, but expectations aren’t voluntary, alas. Last Sunday’s performance of Tristan und Isolde at the Royal Festival Hall was, emphatically, the second kind of occasion. It’s not hard to list what

Giannandrea Poesio

Faltering partnership

According to some, Onegin is the ultimate expression of John Cranko’s choreographic and theatrical genius. According to some, Onegin is the ultimate expression of John Cranko’s choreographic and theatrical genius. I disagree, for I think that other works are a much better testament to his unique creativity. But I like Onegin because it is one of those works in which choreography and acting go seamlessly hand in hand, thus creating a tension that makes one overlook and forgive much of the poor choreography — of which there is a good handful. That, though, is only when things work as they should. When they do not, the outcome can be dreary,

Simon Hoggart

All about sex

The Song of Lunch (BBC2) was a rum old go. Christopher Reid’s poem, about a publisher half-hoping to rekindle a past love affair over an Italian meal, was read out by Alan Rickman, who acted the publisher and recreated the lines on film. The Song of Lunch (BBC2) was a rum old go. Christopher Reid’s poem, about a publisher half-hoping to rekindle a past love affair over an Italian meal, was read out by Alan Rickman, who acted the publisher and recreated the lines on film. Thus, when the poet wrote, ‘he drinks until the ice rests on his upper lip’, you see the ice, actually resting on his upper

Kate Chisholm

Memory’s weird ways

‘She goes off to the Maldives. That’s all I can remember about her,’ laughed Alan Bennett as he struggled to recall the name of the Australian physiotherapist he’d invented for his TV play about Miss Fozzard and her feet. ‘She goes off to the Maldives. That’s all I can remember about her,’ laughed Alan Bennett as he struggled to recall the name of the Australian physiotherapist he’d invented for his TV play about Miss Fozzard and her feet. Bennett had volunteered to subject himself to a Mastermind-style grilling from Mark Lawson (for Radio 4’s Front Row) after one of the contestants on the TV quiz had chosen Bennett’s plays as

Saturday

Andrew Lambirth

An artist of the sinking world

Julian Perry (born 1960) paints images of genuine topicality in an immaculate high-definition realist style. Julian Perry (born 1960) paints images of genuine topicality in an immaculate high-definition realist style. His last show in 2007 dealt with the allotment sheds bulldozed by the relentless encroachment of the Olympic site. Since then he has been painting pictures of coastal erosion, visiting locations around England and composing hallucinatory images of deracination and loss. ‘Clifftop with Fridge Freezers’ was one of the first of the new series. I asked him to describe the subject. ‘It depicts a dairy that has fallen victim to what I think is called “rotational slump”, when alluvial till, or glacial

Roderick Conway-Morris

Sculpture: Earth to earth

The park was founded nearly 25 years ago by a trio of friends from Borgo Valsugana, a small town near Trento in the Italian Alps: Carlotta Strobele, a philosophy graduate whose Viennese family’s connections with the area go back to when the region formed part of the Austro–Hungarian Empire; Emanuele Montibeller, a former market trader in fabrics and a local councillor; and Enrico Ferrari, an architect — all of whom shared a passion for contemporary art. It now covers a wide area in Val di Sella, a secluded valley of forest, glades and rolling meadows, high above Borgo, at the end of a narrow road that zigzags its way up

Susan Moore

Art fairs: Satellite superiority

It is a critical moment for the Biennale des Antiquaires in Paris — and for the French art trade. It is a critical moment for the Biennale des Antiquaires in Paris — and for the French art trade. For this year’s edition of this most august art and antiques fair (which ended last week) — ostensibly celebrating its 25th anniversary — came as a real shock. It was not that the fair was poor; it was simply underwhelming. How can it be that this once peerless event is no longer distinguishable from any other good international fine art and antiques fair? First, there was only a handful of outstanding stands

John McEwen

Liberating Visions

Victor Willing (1928–88) is perhaps the least classifiable of the brilliant early-1950s Slade generation, which includes his wife Paula Rego. Victor Willing (1928–88) is perhaps the least classifiable of the brilliant early-1950s Slade generation, which includes his wife Paula Rego. So it is uniquely appropriate that this first major posthumous exhibition should be at the beautiful museum built in her honour and opened last year. Willing’s career is dramatically divided. In his twenties he was briefly successful with portraits and still-lives. Then there is a blank 20 years before a last decade of remarkable imaginative paintings, when his art, in Paula Rego’s words, ‘moves backwards and forwards between the figurative

Deborah Ross

Women on top | 2 October 2010

Although Made in Dagenham is far from perfect and has a particular fondness for those impromptu speeches which turn out to be stirringly spot-on, it is so warm-hearted and affectionate it wouldn’t be right to take against it. Although Made in Dagenham is far from perfect and has a particular fondness for those impromptu speeches which turn out to be stirringly spot-on, it is so warm-hearted and affectionate it wouldn’t be right to take against it. It would be like kicking a puppy or, perhaps, randomly plonking a cat in a wheelie bin, of which, I believe, there has even been a recorded incidence. It is also just such a