Arts Reviews

The good, bad and ugly in arts and exhbitions

Saturday

Lloyd Evans Lloyd Evans

How we laughed

Lloyd Evans charts the death of political satire and looks to where comedy is heading next Live comedy ought to be extinct. For five years the internet has been waving an eviction order in its face, but despite the YouTube menace, and its threat of death-by-a-thousand-clips, live stand-up is blossoming. You’ll have noticed this if you read newspaper adverts. Eighteen months ago they were full of barmy invitations to take out a loan for 10 times the value of your house, or to ‘buy’ (that is rent in advance for 99 years) a room in a boutique hotel in Prague or a glass-box-with-a-view in Abu Dhabi. These schemes have been

Marcus Berkmann

Swan songs

Some say that pop music has nowhere else to go, but they are wrong: there is still extreme old age to negotiate. This week the American singer-songwriter, activist and folk evangelist Pete Seeger is 90 years old. Fifteen years ago, when he was 75, I’m not sure anyone was paying much attention. Folk music had drifted so far away from the cultural mainstream that search parties had given up for the night and helicopters had been recalled to base. Now, of course, everyone is a folk singer and Seeger is a revered elder statesman, with the satisfaction of having survived long enough to witness the revival of his own folk

Alan Judd

Reasons to be cheerful

I’m no sharpshooter but molehills aren’t mountains, and at 100 yards over open sights, when you’re standing unsupported, a slither of white plastic stuck into one looks vanishingly small along the barrel of a Winchester 30-30. I’m no sharpshooter but molehills aren’t mountains, and at 100 yards over open sights, when you’re standing unsupported, a slither of white plastic stuck into one looks vanishingly small along the barrel of a Winchester 30-30. That’s the sort of rifle — almost a carbine — you might have seen John Wayne twiddling around his finger in ancient westerns, though I wouldn’t fancy firing with one hand. The advantage of molehills is that the

Wednesday

Alex Massie Alex Massie

A Foreign Policy Film Festival

Stephen Walt and Dan Drezner each list ten films they think merit inclusion in a Foreign Policy Film Festival since they shed some light, one way or another, upon international relations. Well, that’s a parlour game everyone can play. No need to hold tenure! Professor Walt suggests that war movies, spy capers and propaganda films ought to be excluded so, playing only moderately fast and loose with his criteria, here’s another list: The Man Who Would Be King (1975): You must have an Afghanistan movie these days and this is the best there is. Kipling’s tale of imperial adventure, folly, ambition, lunacy and greed is also a great buddy movie

Simon Hoggart

Best and the worst of times

Best: His Mother’s Son (BBC 2, Sunday) was, for those of us from a certain place and time, almost unbearably poignant. Ron ‘Chopper’ Harris — such a charming soubriquet — was a defender with Chelsea in the 1960s. He tells the story of his manager, Tommy Docherty, briefing him before a match against Manchester United. ‘They’ve got this new player called Best. Apparently he’s good. I want you to take him out.’ Harris pointed out that if he was too rough, he might get himself sent off. ‘Put it this way, son,’ said Docherty. ‘They’ll miss him more than we’ll miss you.’ And it is still true today. We miss

Andrew Lambirth

State of transition

Mark Wallinger Curates the Russian Linesman Hayward Gallery, until 4 May Annette Messager: The Messengers Hayward Gallery, until 25 May For many people, Mark Wallinger (born 1959) is the man who likes horses. He is the artist with a passionate interest in racing and thoroughbreds, the successful competitor for the Ebbsfleet Landmark commission, in which he will place a vast sculpture of a horse in the heartlands of Kent to greet visitors to our green and pleasant racing stable. Now he has been invited to curate an exhibition for the upper floor of the Hayward Gallery. Its odd title will be familiar to football fans, referring to an infamous and

Saturday

Petroc Trelawny

Playing Bach to hippopotamuses

Michael Bullivant tells Petroc Trelawny how he became Bulawayo’s chief musical impresario For an extraordinary month in 1953, Bulawayo became the epicentre of culture in the southern hemisphere. In celebration of the centenary of the colonialist and diamond magnate Cecil Rhodes, the Royal Opera House and Sadlers Wells Ballet took up residence. Sir John Gielgud staged and starred in a production of Richard II. The musical programme was left to the Hallé Orchestra, who flew in from Manchester with their music director Sir John Barbirolli and gave 14 concerts. A corrugated-iron aircraft hanger was temporarily named ‘The Theatre Royal’; it even boasted a royal box from where the Queen Mother

Andrew Lambirth

Style and opulence

Baroque 1620-1800: Style in the Age of Magnificence V&A, until 19 July The Baroque is a style of drama, movement and opulence. Until the 19th century it was a term for the grotesque or absurd; then it was taken over by those who sought to categorise the mainstream developments of European culture. As an adjective, Baroque still means florid or overblown, but if the age it adorned was devoted to spectacle, it was also dedicated to unity and balance, unlike the sensationalism of today. I had misgivings about this exhibition. As the V&A’s director, Mark Jones, proudly points out in the foreword to the catalogue (a vast and lavish doorstop

Lloyd Evans Lloyd Evans

Barefaced brilliance

Calendar Girls Noël Coward Only When I Laugh Arcola Ooh dear, the critics have been terribly sniffy about Calendar Girls. This dazzlingly funny, shamelessly sentimental and utterly captivating tale of middle-aged women posing naked to raise cash for charity should have won five-star plaudits all round. But the reviews have thrown a veil over its brilliance. Why? Well, we critics dislike these schmaltzy populist confections because they deprive us of the chance to flex our intellect in public and serve up a perspicacious and polysyllabic exegesis. Ironically, though, my colleagues have not only shortchanged the show they’ve also missed the opportunity to do their brainy show-off bit — like this.

Robin Holloway

Celebrating Cambridge

I write fresh from a local event with historical roots far into the past — a concert, part of a year’s-worth of events celebrating Cambridge’s first eight centuries, devoted to exploring the university’s long past and rich present of choral singing. I write fresh from a local event with historical roots far into the past — a concert, part of a year’s-worth of events celebrating Cambridge’s first eight centuries, devoted to exploring the university’s long past and rich present of choral singing. The programme had a suitable touch of the academic. Its first half consisted of some mid-16th-century music; either submitted for the degree of Bachelor (Cambridge being the earliest

Kate Chisholm

Ju-ju injustice

‘Do you think that Africa is ever going to be free of these superstitions?’ asked the reporter Sorious Samura in the first of his four-part series, West African Journeys on the BBC World Service (Mondays). ‘Do you think that Africa is ever going to be free of these superstitions?’ asked the reporter Sorious Samura in the first of his four-part series, West African Journeys on the BBC World Service (Mondays). Sorious has been travelling round Ghana with Cletus Anaaya who works for a charity which is trying to stamp out the practice of killing ‘spirit children’, their fate decided by their parents and the soothsayers who declare them to be

James Delingpole James Delingpole

National treasure

The phone rang last night, I picked it up and it was our friend Tania. ‘God, I hate my ****ing husband,’ she said. ‘Oh, Tania, don’t be silly, Jamie’s a sweetheart,’ I said. ‘Oh, shut up, I don’t want to be talking to you, you’re a man. Pass me to your wife, she’ll understand,’ said Tania. So I handed the phone to the wife and she made all the right noises. It seemed that Jamie had arrived home late and hungry to discover that Tania had eaten all his sausages. Jamie had called her a ‘****ing bitch’. I felt similarly divided loyalties watching English Heritage (BBC2, Friday). It was made

Wednesday

Martin Bright

Humbling Free Expression Awards

I am always blown away by the Index on Censorship Freedom of Expression Awards. But for some reason, last night’s event seemd to throw up an even more astonishing roster of award winners than usual. It was also good that so many were there in person. (In a surreal touch, Paul Staines, aka Guido Fawkes, was also there in person at a table he had bought for the occasion). The Sri Lankan paper, The Sunday Leader, won the journalism award, which was collected by Lal Wickrematunge. Lal explained he and his brother Lasantha had started the magazine 15 years ago on a shoestring budget and distributed it from the back of

Saturday

Andrew Lambirth

Russian danger

Rodchenko and Popova: Defining Constructivism Tate Modern, until 17 May Art is always at its most dangerous — but perhaps also its most endearing — when it approaches the idealistic. In the wake of the Russian Revolution of October 1917, the group of artists who called themselves Constructivists came to believe that abstraction could transform everyday life. But, unlike many theorists, they weren’t content simply with the idea of art’s revolutionary potential, they longed to put it into practice, and this they proceeded to do. Abstraction is a great tool in applied art, and the Constructivists used it to good effect in posters, books, textiles and furniture. For once, art

Lloyd Evans Lloyd Evans

‘A pleasant academical retreat’

Lloyd Evans wanders round Inner Temple and discovers another world in the tangle of squares Where’s the best place to eat lunch in London? First let’s strike restaurants off the list. At a restaurant your plate of recently throttled livestock will have been executed by a pimply sadist, cooked by a cursing psychopath and delivered to your table by a grudging PhD drop-out angling for a tip. So forget restaurants. Instead, choose outdoor refreshment and a bill of fare invented by the Romans and suitable for any time of day. A hunk of bread, a wedge of cheese and a flagon of Valpolicella. And for a picnicking spot you couldn’t

Lloyd Evans Lloyd Evans

Game’s up

Maggie’s End Shaw Death and the King’s Horseman Olivier Here’s an unexpected treat. An angry left-wing play crammed with excellent jokes. Ed Waugh and Trevor Wood’s lively bad-taste satire starts with Margaret Thatcher’s death. A populist New Labour Prime Minister rashly opts to grant her a state funeral which prompts a furious reaction in Labour’s northern heartlands. Former poll-tax rebel Leon Thomas organises a protest march to London intent on disrupting the ceremony and shaming the government. To complicate matters, Leon’s daughter Rosa is a rising Labour MP entangled with the super-smooth Home Secretary (with the slightly-too-clever name Neil Callaghan). In the opening scene Rosa is discovered tupping Callaghan on

Deborah Ross

On message

In the Loop 15, Nationwide Love it, love it, love it and for those of you who are a bit slow — I know who you are; don’t think I don’t — I loved this film. It’s great. It’s fast, it’s funny and it’s so on the money about self-interested politicians, clueless aides, dodgy dossiers and altered intelligence that even Alastair Campbell has said, ‘It all rings so true. I salute all involved.’ Actually, he has said no such thing but you know what? Sometimes I’m in the mood for doctoring the evidence, too. (Not often, and never on a Wednesday when I concentrate on spreading unfounded rumours about people

Kate Chisholm

Handel’s business sense

It’s not often that a business correspondent looks to a musician for advice on investing in the stock market, but Radio Four’s Peter Day turned up on Handel Week and gave us an unusual take on the great baroque composer. It’s not often that a business correspondent looks to a musician for advice on investing in the stock market, but Radio Four’s Peter Day turned up on Handel Week and gave us an unusual take on the great baroque composer. Liquid Assets (Sunday night’s feature on Radio Three, produced by Paul Frankl) revealed that Handel was not just an extraordinarily prolific composer, he was also a very canny financial operator,

Simon Hoggart

Time well spent

The Private Life of a Masterpiece (BBC1, Saturday) got an Easter outing about Caravaggio’s ‘The Taking of Christ’. The Private Life of a Masterpiece (BBC1, Saturday) got an Easter outing about Caravaggio’s ‘The Taking of Christ’. It was superb, as this series invariably is. Understated yet informative, packed with unpatronising experts, it fascinates from start to end. Did you know that Caravaggio was a gangster and murderer, who spent the end of his short life on the run? Or that this particular painting was then the most expensive ever commissioned (125 scudi; I have no idea what that might have been against sterling), or that it sold in Scotland for

Wednesday

Fraser Nelson Fraser Nelson

A load of Balls

Let’s rewind back to this morning, and Ed Balls’ appearance on the Today progamme.  It was such a classic demonstration of distortion and buck-passing, that we’ve decided to give it a fisk, Coffee House style.  Here’s the transcript, with our thoughts added in italics: James Naughtie: Talking about bad behaviour, there’s been a bit of it going on in government, hasn’t there? Ed Balls: Well, I’ve, um, seen the reports in the Sunday Times on Sunday and I think those emails were vile, horrible, despicable. I think there’s no place in politics for that kind of stuff. I think it’s awful. Fraser Nelson: Balls is shocked, shocked to find it