Arts Reviews

The good, bad and ugly in arts and exhbitions

Wednesday

Charles Spencer

Parisian heights

Mrs Spencer had to spend five days in Paris during half-term observing ballet classes, so my son Edward and I tagged along too, on the strict understanding that watching dance lessons was absolutely not on the agenda as far as we were concerned. It came as a jolt to realise that my first visit to Paris had been 45 years earlier when my parents took me there at the age of eight. I can’t remember much about it except the pungent smells from the drains, buying a much loved penknife and the evening when my mother was taken ill in a restaurant while tackling a particularly glutinous bowl of onion

Peter Phillips

Death by laptop

Touring the more rural college campuses in the United States with Victoria’s Requiem is a very modern challenge. To be sure, the inmates of these Young People’s Homes have little experience of performers and performances which do not actively sell themselves, so I can imagine that the reality of 11 people standing more or less motionless on a stage, singing one of the most contemplative pieces of music ever written for 45 minutes, might come over as a bit novel. In fact it must count as the polar opposite of literally everything the television stations serve them up. Mindful of the difficulty, I recently introduced a performance of this Requiem

Giannandrea Poesio

Street life

Insane in the Brain Bounce, Peacock Theatre An upbeat, street-dance version of Romeo and Juliet, presented by Rumble, was one of the hottest tickets at the 2006 Edinburgh Festival. Some critics did dislike it as yet another example of modern-day cultural and artistic madness, but others welcomed its innovative approach to the creation of both dance and theatre art, and its attempt to find new choreographic idioms and ideas. As such, it has led the way for a proliferation of similar performances within the all-too-often exclusive world of theatre dance. Bounce, the Swedish-based street-dance company, for instance, has just arrived in London with a dazzling adaptation of One Flew Over

Monday

James Forsyth James Forsyth

You’d be mad to miss it

If you haven’t seen Mad Men—the drama set in a Madison Avenue advertising agency in 1960—already, I’d thoroughly recommend watching it. (You can catch up on the first episode here.) It is the best drama that there has been on TV in quite a while.  As James Delingpole says in the magazine this week, it is “utterly brilliant.” It does, though, beg the question of why all the best TV these days seems to be American—quite a turn around from a few years back, when British shows were the best thing on American TV and the worst things on our screens had been shipped in from across the pond. Now,

Saturday

Giannandrea Poesio

Games worth playing

The Royal Ballet Royal Opera House It is a well-known fact that ballet lives, thrives and survives in a world of its own. By the time the ‘new’ ideas developed in other artistic contexts have seeped through its thick artistic, technical, cultural and social barriers, the other arts have already moved on. Luckily, such a time warp is visible only to those who are keeping an eye on what goes on in the performing world, and not to those die-hard balletomanes who prefer to ignore whatever happens outside the boundaries of their point-shoed dream-world. It is not surprising, therefore, that when ideas from other artistic fields are successfully transplanted into

James Delingpole James Delingpole

Past perfect | 8 March 2008

You have neat, slicked-back hair which never gets dandruff. You keep a pile of beautifully laundered white shirts stacked in your office drawer. You look great in your sharp suit and so does everyone else in theirs. The girls in the office are there to service your every need, and actually discuss with one another tactics for making themselves look sexier and how to please you more. You smoke ALL THE TIME — so incredibly often that people in the future are going to look at you and wonder how it can possibly be that you and your friends smoked so much — and you do it suavely, without guilt

Wednesday

Lloyd Evans Lloyd Evans

Best forgotten

Amnesia? Forget about it. That’s my advice to dramatists considering handling this theme on stage because it always generates the same problem. Memory equals personality so a character without a memory isn’t a character. He’s some clothes. The central figure in The Living Unknown Soldier is a French major suffering from total memory loss after being wounded in the trenches. Early on, the script seems to recognise that its main character is a dud and focuses instead on the search for his family. Adverts are posted and hordes of bumbling French families turn up at the clinic all claiming Major Breakdown as their long-lost son. Here they come, wave after

Andrew Lambirth

Velvet revolutionaries

Modern Painters: the Camden Town Group Tate Britain, until 5 May The Millbank branch of the Tate empire is currently blessed with two major loan exhibitions of painting, and if you find the Peter Doig retrospective a bit too thin for your taste, the thick dry crusty surfaces of the Camden Town Group’s pictures may be just the thing. A distinctly short-lived school of painting, it was effective for just a couple of years, from its founding by Sickert in 1911 to its dissolution at the end of 1913. Its influence perhaps extended a little beyond those strict limits, and it has become popular as a descriptive term or category

Michael Tanner

Messing around with Lucia

Lucia di Lammermoor Coliseum Gentle Giant Linbury Studio Despite two attempts, I haven’t managed to see ENO’s new production of Lucia di Lammermoor with its announced cast. My first try was sabotaged, as so many plans are, by Network Rail, which is still after 12 years working on ‘essential maintenance’ of a ten-mile stretch of track between Stevenage and Cambridge, so that the last train from King’s Cross leaves at 21.52, compelling me to leave before Act III. On my second try the Lucia and Enrico were both too ill to sing, and indeed the replacement Lucia was ill too, but womanfully sang despite that. Operatic love-duet singing is a

Deborah Ross

To catch a king

The Other Boleyn Girl 12A, Nationwide The Other Boleyn Girl, based on the bestselling historical romance by Philippa Gregory, stars Natalie Portman as Anne Boleyn and Scarlett Johansson as the other girl, her ‘plainer’ sister Mary, which, considering Scarlett Johansson has just been voted the most beautiful woman in the world, must be a lesson in Hollywood logic in and of itself. Still, do not despair, at least not until you are ten minutes in, at which point, if you are still awake, you will be despairing like crazy while wishing you’d stayed in. Here’s the deal: we have Anne, the pretty one, and Mary, the plainer one whom we

Kate Chisholm

An English malady

Melancholy is a peculiarly English malady; almost you might say a national characteristic, born out of our long, dark nights and grizzly, indecisive weather. That dampness of the soul and ambient miserableness is almost like a national uniform; just think of late-Seventies rock or the Jacobean poets, the Brontë novels or Francis Bacon. The Swinging Sixties, those bouncy lyrics and bright, clear, linear fashions, were not a true expression of English character. Quite the reverse; they were an aberration, the exact opposite of what we’re really and truly comfortable with being. The heartless sophistication of that super-hyped new TV series Mad Men, could only have come out of America; our

Saturday

Mark Glazebrook

Portrait of a director

Mark Glazebrook talks to Sandy Nairne, who explains why the NPG is part of the life of London David Piper, director of the National Portrait Gallery 1964–67, was a brilliant historian and museum director who, while writing a book called The English Face, found that there’s no such thing. It vanished like the smile on Lewis Carroll’s Cheshire cat. Piper himself was disinclined to mastermind the much-needed radical reform of a musty old institution — a challenge successfully embraced by his young colleague and successor, Roy Strong. Strong’s Cecil Beaton show, a first for photography, drew previously undreamed of crowds. Today, attendance figures have risen to 1.6 million per annum.

Henrietta Bredin

In tune with poetry

Henrietta Bredin talks to Ian Bostridge about his passion for Lieder and his plans for the future On an eye-wateringly bright and freezing cold day, Ian Bostridge contrives to look svelte and leggily elegant despite the fact that he confesses to wearing a thick layer of thermal underwear next to the skin. As soon as I have divested myself of some of the rather more haphazard layers I have adopted and can once more put my arms down by my sides, we warm up with large cups of coffee and talk about Homeward Bound, the celebratory season of work chosen and performed by Bostridge at the Barbican Centre in London.

Michael Tanner

Dead end

Salome Royal Opera House Salome Royal Opera House What is a producer, or, as they more often like to be called these days, director, to do if he is asked to produce/direct a work about which he has no interesting ideas and none comes along during the production process, and the invitation comes from a prestigious ‘centre of excellence’ for which money is no object? Clearly, he teams up with a designer who enjoys putting lots of hardware on the stage and shunting it around, even having it moving rapidly from left to right, making the characters run to keep up, so that the production may easily cost as much

Giannandrea Poesio

Compare and contrast

Flight London Coliseum Flight London Coliseum Ballet galas might be the dream of every spectacle-craving balletomane, but they can easily become a nightmarishly boring series of ‘party pieces’ if they are not properly organised. Luckily, this is not the case when a company such as Ensemble Production takes over, as demonstrated by a number of recent and successful events. Not unlike the galas for Maya Plisetskaya’s and Yuri Grigorovich’s 80th birthdays, its latest creation, Flight, organised jointly with the Maris Liepa foundation, brought together a plethora of stars to celebrate a dance artist from the past. The name of Maris Liepa might not be as familiar to youngish Western ballet-goers

Friday

Alex Massie Alex Massie

If a Little Sparrow beats its wings, does that mean tall buildings fall?

On the other hand, some actors really are loopy to the tonsils. To wit, alas, the lovely Marion Cotillard, who is, it seems, a pretty keen conspiracy theorist: Marion Cotillard : J’ai tendance à être plutôt souvent de l’avis de la théorie du complot. Xavier de Moulins : Un peu parano ? M. C. : Pas parano, non c’est pas parano parce que je pense qu’on nous ment sur énormément de choses : Coluche, le 11 septembre. On peut voir sur internet tous les films du 11 septembre sur la théorie du complot. C’est passionnant, c’est addictif, même. X. de M. : Sur le 11 septembre par exemple, toi, qu’est-ce

Wednesday

Andrew Lambirth

Art for the masses

Alexander Rodchenko: Revolution in Photography Hayward Gallery, until 27 April There’s a whole separate exhibition in the downstairs galleries of the Hayward. It’s called Laughing in a Foreign Language and is supposed to explore the role of laughter and humour in contemporary art through the work of 30 so-called international artists. As an exhibition, it’s a total failure. It’s not just that humour doesn’t easily translate, even in this ghastly era of globalisation, when we seem to want to reduce everyone to the same set of responses and desires. It’s also that so many of the exhibits are striving to be knowing and clever. Laughter is a sacred gift, the

Marcus Berkmann

Aural danger

The Guardian had an interesting — and, frankly, terrifying — piece the other day by Nick Coleman, the Independent’s long-serving and shamelessly cerebral rock critic. I used to know Nick slightly: we talked drivel on the same radio show for a while a dozen years ago, and he wrote a piece about my first cricket book, in which he described me as ‘faintly posh and indefatigably sunny’, a combination of words that makes my girlfriend fall about to this day. Actually, I liked him a lot: he has an incredibly dry sense of humour and loves music to his core. And a terrible thing has happened to him. Without warning,

Deborah Ross

Family at war | 27 February 2008

Margot at the Wedding Nationwide, 15 Margot at the Wedding is one of those unsettling and bothersome films which will bother and unsettle you during, afterwards and possibly for much of the next day, like a flea in the ear. If this is your sort of film, then you will like it and if you don’t — if you like to put a film behind you the moment you leave the cinema, and go for chips — then you probably won’t. I’m not saying one sort of film is better than the other, just what this is, so you know. And now you know that? Well, what you also need

Lloyd Evans Lloyd Evans

Coward tribute

Brief Encounter The Cinema Haymarket The Homecoming Almeida Under the Eagle White Bear Bit of a spoiled brat, the Cinema Haymarket. Can’t decide what it wants. Originally built as a theatre, it defected to the movies for many years but having tired of hosting popcorn blockbusters it’s now receiving plays again. Lovely auditorium, though. Wide comfy seats arranged with such a steep rake that you can see perfectly even if the chap in front of you is Lennox Lewis in a top hat. This new phase of its life begins with an update of Brief Encounter. Like the venue, the show isn’t certain quite what it wants to be. The