Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Edinburgh International Photography Exhibition’

Contemporary Music

It’s a long time since I last saw Ben Folds. His concerts used to be a bit random and frequently irritated me. I certainly never expected to see him at the Royal Opera House, but that’s where he played with New York sextet yMusic (violin, viola, cello, clarinet, flute and trumpet / horn) and drummer Sam Smith and boy was it a treat. Though there were some songs from the back catalogue, rearranged for this configuration, it was mostly new stuff and I now can’t wait for the album to follow. It was a serious but good-humoured affair and the vocal contribution of the audience, conducted by Folds, was stunning. A treat.

Classical Music

My second Prom of British music wasn’t as good as the first, as it turned out to be a bit of a ragbag selection. It was bookended by Walton with Vaughan Williams, Elgar and a piece by Grace Williams, a 20th century Welsh composer I’d never heard of, in-between. It wasn’t the individual pieces, which were each good in their own way, it was that they didn’t seem to belong together. Perhaps my continual thinking about the journey home during a tube strike was distracting me.

I was attracted to Prom 32 by works by Gershwin and Copeland and the fact it was choral, though I’d never heard of Eric Whitacre, the American conductor and composer of four of the seven works. It turned out to be a huge treat – Whitacre’s works were inventive and captivating, there was a refreshing informality with introductions to each piece and a touch of showmanship for good measure. I think I became an instant fan.

We followed it (after the picnic, obviously) with another Prom featuring the Orchestre Revolutionnaire et Romantique under John Eliot Gardiner playing two classic symphonies, Beethoven’s 5th and Berlioz’ Symphonie Fantastique, and though they were well played (despite the rather rasping brass) it didn’t rise to the afternoon’s heights.

The Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra is as good as most of the London orchestras, as they proved convincingly in their lovely Prom programme of three works written in the last year of the Second World War by Britten, Korngold & Prokofiev under their dynamic young Ukrainian conductor Kirill Karabits. The Sea Interludes and Prokofiev’s 5th weren’t new to me and both were beautifully played, but the Korngold violin concerto was and Nicola Benedetti played it (and an encore) brilliantly.

Film

My problem with Dear White People is that I couldn’t get past my distaste of the conservative, traditional middle-class American college system to get to the satire on racism. It was OK, but only OK.

Art

The Alfred Wallis exhibition at new Old Street gallery Modern Art, on loan from Cambridge’s Kettle’s Yard, was fascinating. His naïve childlike paintings, mostly of ships and boats, were painted from memory on salvaged card and paper. They weren’t technically accomplished, but there was something compelling about them.

The London Metropolitan Archives are new to me, but once I’d found them (!) the exhibition of Victorian London in Photographs was fascinating. They included street scenes, street sellers, theatrical figures and albums from schools and asylums.

A trio of photographic exhibitions three days after completing a photography course may not have been my best idea as it plunged me back into feelings of photographic inadequacy. The first was Revelations at the Science Museum, examining the influence on early scientific photography on modern & contemporary art. Though the photos were almost all fascinating, I’m not sure it did what it said on the can. At the Natural History Museum, my reaction to the Wildlife Photography Prize Exhibition was different with the extra knowledge I’d gained since I saw it last. I now seemed to be more aware of, and therefore thinking about, the technology that enabled the photos as much as, if not more than, the creativity of the photographer. Still, they were still amazing. The same happened at the Royal Geographic Society’s annual Travel Photography Prize exhibition, but I was still wowed and still in awe of the results.

Duane Hanson’s uber-realistic sculptures of people at the Serpentine Sackler Gallery were rather spooky. I mistook more than one for real people and a real person for a sculpture; fortunately I didn’t stare too long or photograph him. Back in the Serpentine Gallery itself, I popped in to see an exhibition of paintings, mostly dark portraits with occasional flashes of colour, by contemporary British artist Lynette Yiadom-Boakye and loved them – an unexpected bonus in an art afternoon, which also provided an opportunity to see the extraordinarily colourful 2015 Serpentine Pavilion from the inside.

Utopia, at The Roundhouse, was their most ambitious summer installation yet. Taking its lead from Thomas More’s 16th century book, it took us through sweat-shops, bookshops and wastelands, questioning the price and value of consumerism. Brilliant, thought-provoking stuff.

Up in Edinburgh it was lean pickings for art this year, though I chose to wait for two exhibitions heading to London, but what I saw I liked. The annual International Photography exhibition was up to its usual standard with a hugely improved colour catalogue for a knock-down price. At the Scottish NPG there was an interesting exhibition of photos by Lee Miller documenting the friendship of her and her husband Roland Penrose with Picasso (which provided an opportunity to see the newly renovated gallery in all its glory). At the new Ingleby Gallery there was a fascinating exhibition of pictures, posters and sculptures by Charles Avery, someone new to me, whilst at Dovecot Studios, another new space, two treats – Kwang Young Chun‘s obsessive but enthralling work made of tiny folded paper parcels and Bernat Klein‘s tapestries with the artwork for them.

Read Full Post »

A shortened visit this year, to facilitate a ‘pit-stop’ back in London before I travel the Silk Road from Bishkek in Kyrgyzstan to Beijing! So, anything that I can see in London is automatically excluded – there still isn’t enough time, of course.

We started well with a new adaptation (from the Stephen King novella, rather than the film) of The Shawshank Redemption (****). It was well adapted by comedians Owen O’Neill & Dave Johns and the cast was also largely made up of comedians, led by Omid Djalili. In 100 unbroken minutes, it managed to bring out both the hopelessness of prison life and the depth of the friendship at its core. Simply staged (though elaborate for the fringe!) with five two-story metal towers and a handful of benches, with a brooding soundtrack, it packed quite a punch.

In a contrast typical of Edinburgh, we followed this with a concert from favourite Scottish folkie Karine Polwart (*****). I’d seen her with others but not doing her own show and it was a delight. She may be a folkie, but all of her songs are originals (except for a welcome tribute to another Scottish favourite Michael Marra, who died this year) and gorgeous they are, with backing by acoustic guitar and ‘percussion’. The Queens Hall was the perfect venue, with acoustics and atmosphere worthy of her talents.

Day Two saw me back at ‘second home’ The Traverse Theatre for the Abbey Theatre’s Quietly (****), where a catholic and a protestant meet in a pub during a Northern Ireland v Poland football international 36 years after one had killed the other’s father in a pub bombing during a similar match. It was a thought-provoking and original dissection of ‘the troubles’ at a psychological level and the addition of a Polish barman added a contemporary twist.

After the now customary & mandatory visit to the International Photographic Exhibition (**** – but too many contrived, posed, stylised unnatural shots this year), the afternoon saw me in a stationary minibus with 13 others and a storyteller telling us about his recreation of one of  his granddad’s jaunts to Cape Wrath (***)  in the far north of Scotland. It shouldn’t have worked, but it did and proved to be a charming hour.

I’d heard good  things about the National Theatre of Wales new show, The Radicalisation of Bradley Manning (*****), but I wasn’t really ready for how good. It reminded me of the National Theatre of Scotland’s Black Watch – thrillingly theatrical, tackling something about as topical and relevant as its possible to be. It’s a fascinating real life story with a Welsh connection and I was captivated from beginning to end. NTW continues to lead the way.

The common feature of my favourite living artists – Howard Hodgkin, David Hockney – seems to be colour, and Peter Doig is another. His Edinburgh exhibition (****) is bigger than his relatively recent Tate one, and though some of the 36 paintings were at both, there was much new here – plus lots of sketches, prints and posters – and the NGS (former RSA) space was perfect, allowing them to breathe and enabling you to get enough distance from them.

Things took a dip after this with a play called Making News (**) about a scandal at the BBC. It was underwritten and under-rehearsed, with lots of dull patches between a few big laughs. This was another of those companies of comedians, but this lot couldn’t act so well – particularly Suki Webster, who was as wooden as an entire forest. The dip continued for John Godber’s Losing the Plot (**), a play about the mid-life crisis which was a touch implausible and with too many short scenes between long gaps for it to flow well. Not even Corrie’s Eddie Windass could rescue it! When I first came to Edinburgh in the mid-80’s, Godber’s work for Hull Truck (Up n’ Under, Bouncers, Shakers, Teechers…..) was compulsory viewing. I think I should have stuck with my memories.

Things picked up again when we boarded the coach Leaving Planet Earth (****), space ‘jumping’ to New Earth just before we got to the extraordinary Edinburgh International Climbing Arena. The pre-emails asking us for our pledges and for objects for the Old Earth Museum had made me a bit cautious and sceptical and it took a while for the narrative to settle, but when it did, I found the story of our exodus from our dying planet engaging and thought-provoking. Promenading to different scenes over four floors of this amazing venue, Grid Iron’s main festival show was a technical and logistical marvel and the venue truly was a star.

Our first (and last!) dose of classical music kick-started Tuesday with a wonderful, and wonderfully different, Queens Hall recital by a 13-piece (mostly) woodwind (inc. horn!) ensemble called Nachtmusique (****). The programme was entirely Mozart with pieces for various combinations of instruments ending in a 45 minute piece for the whole ensemble. Gorgeous!

What can one say about Coriolanus (***) in Mandarin with two on-stage heavy metal bands called Miserable Faith and Suffocated?! It was a bit gimmicky, but it just about worked in telling the story of the revenge of the scorned man. When the actors were allowed to get on with it unencumbered, they were great, though the acting of the large ensemble was somewhat ragged, with particularly wimpy fighting, making me speculate that they had been recruited locally (later proved correct). The surtitles were often odd, as if they used google translate back from the Mandarin translation, and oddly paced in that they didn’t always keep up! Still, good to welcome another overseas theatre company to give us their take on The Bard.

A few wee exhibitions (see, gone native) to start my final day, but none really excited. Conde Nast Photos (***) were good if you like your photos highly stylised, obsessively posed & very contrived, but I overdosed a bit on it all. The City Arts Centre’s companion exhibition Dressed to Impress (***.5) showcased dress in Scottish painting through history and was a bit more satisfying, with a few real gems. Across the road in the Fruitmarket Gallery, Gabriel Orozco (**) was all circles – too many circles!

David Harrower’s Ciara (***.5) is a monologue which I wouldn’t have booked if I’d known it was a monologue, but I was glad I did as it was extremely well written and performed brilliantly by Blythe Duff! We followed this with my final show – I’m With The Band (***.5) – about a band called The Union splitting up, a metaphor for – you guessed it – the union that is the UK. It was clever and the characterisations were very good, but it was a bit heavy-handed.

A 3.5* final day in a  4* festival. With a wimpy 12 shows in 5 days, will I be alllowed to return???

Read Full Post »