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Month: May 2012

Monkee Business

Everyone knows who the Monkees are, even 40 years after they were at their prime young and old alike (and celebrity sighting of the evening, Dev from Corrie,) gathered to immerse ourselves in the splendour of the flare-wearing original boy-band.

It took a little while to get into the tone of the musical, wondering at first if the extraordinarily cheesy jokes were serious until it became wonderfully clear that the whole thing had been masterminded as one tongue-in-cheek self-mocking joke after another.

The premise of the musical being that four ordinary boys, with no actual musical talent of their own but a penchant for miming, were recruited to go on a world tour in place of the real Monkees who were busy filming their hit TV series.

With constant references to the band’s lives and some exquisitely unsubtle links into their hit songs, often led into by phrases like “Bet you didn’t think we’d sing this song in this scene”, the whole evening reflected the nature of the Monkees careers as the happy go lucky hit-making machine of the ‘60s.

It was an all-round brilliant evening that left you feeling exactly as you should after a musical of this ilk; sore-faced from laughing with all your worries behind you, the miracle healing of cheesy and frequently filthy jokes.

There was a touching moment to finish the evening, as Ben Evans who played Chuck, posing as Davy Jones, took to the stage after the encore to dedicate the evening to the memory of the late singer, at which the rest of the cast returned to the stage and the audience rose to their feet to sing and bring the evening to a close.

Marcus Roberts Trio

If simplicity is the ultimate sophistication, then the performance of Marcus Roberts trio at the RNCM is a good example. The trio is composed of classical jazz-trained and Wynton Marsalis-inspired Marcus Roberts at the piano, Rodney Jordan at bass and Jason Marsalis on drums. With a stage presence that is both charismatic and discrete, Roberts assumed his role as a bandleader by introducing the titles of the compositions.

The first part of the concert was dedicated exclusively to Cole Porter songs, as ‘I’ve got you under my skin’ and ‘Night and day’. It was evident from the start that Roberts’ refined, classical piano style blended perfectly with Jordan’s spontaneity and Marsalis’ precision. Their take on the classical jazz repertoire was affectionate, original and harmonious.

In part two, the concert changed the musical trajectory to a more individualised musical performance. The trio switched to their own compositions as ‘Topeka’, ‘Let’s go’ and ‘Marching in the Modern Parade’. The drum solo in ‘Topeka’, a fresh, coherent improvisation was simply breath-taking. ‘Let’s go’ was the only weak point of the concert: the piano seemed confused and uninspired. ‘Marching in the Modern Parade’ was the final touch on the concert: the role of the piano alternated between leading and acting as a background to the ‘duo’: bass and drums.

The strength of the concert was the fact that the trio relied mostly on free improvisation, using the well-established music pieces to add structure. I’d say that the improvisations served both to prevent the audience from sinking in a sentimental nostalgia and to delight that part of the audience which seeks novelty in jazz.

Throughout the concert, it became evident that Marcus Roberts knows how to best showcase the talent of Jordan and Marsalis: their lively improvisations were given structure by the piano. The musical palette the Marcus Roberts trio explored in the concert was intense, engaging and delighted the audience.

A piercing passion

Last week, Nathalie Clark professed her love for tattoos, which I confess I fail to share. Tattoos can look great on others, but they’re just not for me. The idea of getting a tattoo doesn’t appeal, not because of the pain or social perceptions or ageing issues, but instead purely because, regardless of whether or not you designed it, a tattoo will always be someone else’s art on your body and therefore loses its personal quality. It’s a different story with piercings though in that, although often someone else is piercing you, the piercing doesn’t exist without the jewellery you select yourself that you yourself insert.

I have yet to get my actual earlobes pierced – mainly due to idle apathy – and so I’m currently ignorant to the joys of wearing a proper pair of earrings. However, I’m pierced four places elsewhere – helix, rook, navel, nipple – and I feel naked without them. They’ve become an integral part of my preferred appearance, just like other personal normalities such as hairstyle (anyone who seeks either a tattoo or a piercing in the false hope of being “different” is obviously doomed to forever remain tragically ordinary).

Admittedly, I also enjoy the process of getting pierced. Having a stranger stick a needle through miscellaneous parts of your body is somewhat exciting, and the pain is pleasant in its short and sharp quality. Pain is experienced in the same part of the brain as pleasure, hence the potential pleasurable aspect to pain, which I presume is why I often leave the piercing studio in a heady euphoric daze. Plus, y’know, piercings are hot. You’ve extended your array of orifices in a symbolic fashion. Impish.

Finally, piercings come with the added bonus of disposability. If you wake up one day and suddenly detest harbouring alien pieces of metal in your body, you can take them out as if nothing ever happened. For me, however, and it seems for most pierced people, the reality is often the opposite: once you start, it’s difficult to stop. Maybe I’ll just whip out some needles, ice and apple and sort those earlobes out at last for my next fix. Otherwise, I’m tempted by the tongue. Till then, I’m happy as I am.

Portico Quartet

Girls in long coats and guys in benaie hats pay for their tickets and move inside the venue, alongside white-haired pensioners in smart clothes and the die-hard Jazz aficionados who make up Band on The Wall’s regular crowd.

This, perhaps, says something about Portico Quartet. The London-based quratet made their name as another of the new generation of “not-quite-jazz” bands to hit the scene, but have since shifted to a more powerful position, finding a solid place within the more experienced Jazz establishment. With the harmonic combination of hang (a versatile, steel drum-esque instrument, invented in the early 21st Century) and saxophone, they not only have found themselves a very unique sound, but one they continue to refine, becoming ever more sophisticated.

Inside, the quartet immediately illustrate this. There is silence in the room for only a second, and then they open the show with pace and precision. Milo Fitzpatrick’s double bass syncs with Duncan Bellamy’s percussion to form a looping backline, while Keir Vine’s hang and Jack Wyllie’s saxophone merge and thread themselves through the melodic and percussive base.

The result is an electrifying set, full of energy and invention. They build to mesmerising crescendos, and then drop back to their earlier minimalist lines with ease, and when they finally close the set, the applause pulls them back for encore. Portico Quartet have recently proved themselves to be virtuosic in the studio, and this live performance does not disappoint.

When in Canada…

If you are reading this article and thinking “what does Niagara Falls have to do with Manchester?” all that has to be said is: you can take the girl out of Manchester but you can’t take Manchester out of the girl! Even one on exchange all the way out in Canada.

During my stay here, Niagara Falls was one of the many breathe taking historic sites which was a must see. When tourists come to Manchester, the mundane sites which we walk past with little regard impact travellers in various ways which we would probably never experience, even though the historic past of Manchester has a lot to offer.

The chance to see a waterfall that towers to over fifty one metres in height is an even rarer experience than the fascinating sight of Manchester’s canal side towpaths. In the same way as tourists embrace English culture, going from city life in Manchester to seeing one of the five Great Lakes was a massive culture shock.

If the site alone does not entrance a tourist, the intertwining of the past and future is intriguing to all. Since 1819 Niagara Falls has acted as a divide between the Canadian and American border. It has further continued to cause dispute due to natural erosion which has incurred over time affecting the borders of these two countries.

Even though Niagara came to being many moons ago in the ice age, it continues to act as a link between future commercial and industrial use. With thousands of people flocking to see this historic beauty and taking a trip on the infamous ‘Maid of the Mist’, the Falls brings in significant revenue.

However, what is most interesting to a tourist living in the twenty-first century is that Niagara Falls is a valuable source of hydroelectric power. Thus, not only does Niagara Falls provide spectacular beauty, it further serves to remind tourists that the past plays an increasingly important role in forming the future.

Anya 17

This review is a response to recent complaints regarding a previously published review of Anya 17, performed at the RNCM. I was at the event, and felt as though the opera might benefit a fresh review.

The concert marked the penultimate night of the North West New Music festival, with the professional musicians Ensemble 10/10, conducted by the festival’s artistic director Clark Rundell. The first half featured pieces written for the players of the orchestra, in various combinations. The opening work was by the festivals featured composer Colin Matthews; this short work presented an energetic opening to the concert, flaunting the strong playing of the ensemble and the fluid relationship with their conductor.

This work was followed by the first student performance of the evening, the soprano Sarah Parking singing the cycle In Sleep by Ails in Rain. Ms. Parking tackled the complex music with an ease only achieved through solid preparation and great musicality. Despite the piece being composed for Mezzo Soprano, there were no noticeable signs of the Canadian soprano struggling with the tessitura of the work. Overall, this performance captured the intense palette of emotions and vocal colours within the technically challenged cycle, bringing the piece to an exciting standard.

The first half concluded with a commissioned work by University of Manchester Professor of Composition, Dr. Richard Whalley. The programme note explained the composer’s muse for the three pieces and it has to be said that I, and seemingly many from conversations in the interval that followed found the pieces to be highly intelligent and well heard works, performed expertly by the ensemble.

The next half presented the anticipated main event, the Manchester premiere of Adam Gorb’s opera based on real life experiences of sex trafficking, Anya 17. I believe that it is important to point out that with such sensitive and powerful subject matter, it is hard for an audience to feel anything but moved considering the power of the production and performance.

The musical aspect of the performance was impressive from all. The ensemble played with ease, switching through the different stylisms of the various idioms that Gorb had included in his score, and the cast performed to a high standard, especially in regards to their vocal production, which from some was highly technically polished, most

impressively so from Andrea Tweedale (Anya), who maintained a versatile vocal and emotional performance throughout the technically challenging opera.

The production itself used the space and lack of set imaginatively, using aspects of physical theatre to create variety between scenes and locations, though it did at instances seem limited, and the majority of the dramatic impetus came from the talented cast, notably Amy Webber, who portrayed the blind character Elena with a harrowing realism.

All in all, I believe that the opera was a great success and the moving story was certainly served well by the performers, the entirely of the cast still being students. I would certainly hope that the opera/cast are able to perform the work again soon, as not only was the standard exceptional, but the piece serves the issue at hand in a way that brings attention to both itself and opera in a way that is beneficial for both.

The make-up palette

There’s something deeply satisfying about finding the perfect palette. The multi-purpose quality – I could be highlighting! I could be shading! All in an arcane kaleidoscopic manner! – ostensibly justifies a week’s starvation in order to purchase the otherwise ridiculous piece of frivolity. The classy or quirky (but of course always ornate and luxurious) packaging appears as another attempt at price justification – it’s an objet d’art, darling!

Overall, the effect is a happily deluded sense of aesthetically pleasing sophistication. The suggested lifestyle is that of a woman who does not frequently bump into her own reflection in a public fashion and then promptly and profusely apologises to herself. No, no, the owner of such a pulchritudinous palette would never be guilty of such brazen tomfoolery. She’s just got her shit sorted, you know; carries around a spare pair of tights and snacks on almonds and everything. Wholesome!

So, behold my top five spring palettes in all their saccharine glory, perfect for pulling out ostentatiously in a final effort at feigning dignity when you’re walking around with your skirt tucked into your knickers.

Left to right: Lancôme La Roseraie Palette, £32; Paul & Joe Face & Eye Colour Palette in “Siamese Please”, £19.50; Dior Garden Clutch £55; YSL Vinyl Candy Palette, £39; ; Clarins Colour Breeze Face & Blush Palette, £30.

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller


Achilles bandages the arm of Patroklos -By Sosias

Homeric purists will call forth Apollo to rain a mighty hail of arrows and plague upon Miller when they cast their eyes over the result of her gargantuan ambition and ego. But while it seems like a task achievable only by the tripod-loving Olympians, I hate to say that this is actually rather good.

Miller was fascinated by the relationship between Achilles and Patroklos, and confused by Patroklos’ minor role in the Iliad before his death. So, like Ovid and Virgil and Aeschylus and Euripides, she decided to tell the untold tale – the boyhood of these two friends.

Nothing strikes a false note in Miller’s world. Life at the court of Achilles’ father Peleus achieves the harmony of ordinariness and wonder that is the trademark of the ancients. Gods and centaurs play as much of a role as fathers and sons. She is acutely aware of the intensity of love between Achilles and Patroklos that is implied in the Iliad, and her cementing and grounding of their relationship in their boyhood days adds to the poetic tragedy of Homer’s masterpiece. It is really a remarkable achievement.

But even swift-footed Madeline Miller doesn’t quite pull it all the way through. She trespasses too far into Homeric territory towards the end, re-writing scenes from the Iliad. That, I’m afraid, is an unforgivable and thankless task, and one which all the libations and sacrifices in Troy cannot rectify. Why not explore purely within the confines of a prequel? There’s plenty to say. A 2012 update of Priam’s begging Achilles for Hektor’s body displays hubris on an unprecedented scale.

So long as the thought of it makes not the goddess sing of your anger this is a rollicking, faithful, and surprising flick.


Achilles Preparing to Avenge the Death of Patroclus -Dirck van Baburen

Feature: Good looking music

There was a time, in a long-forgotten world, where a band’s latest release was something that required some preparation and planning. You’d have to save up actual money to go and buy it and that’s only after checking that your local record store had it in stock. Unfortunately, this excitement and anticipation has all been in lost in a time of downloads, both illegal and legit.

However, I think the wheels were in motion even before the false economy of illegal downloading took off. Being something of a nerdy vinyl fan, I fail to see the attraction of flimsy plastic CDs with nothing more than a post-stick note in it with the track listings on. Looking through old gatefold sleeves, the record was something much more than an audio experience. Take iconic album covers like Dark Side of the Moon and Thick as a Brick. I’ve spent many a time exploring all the little delights and details and, more likely than not, you’d get a poster in it to stick on the bedroom wall too.

I’m not going to go into whether vinyl sounds better than CDs but even just the physical property of owning the music has an effect. I know many who’ll download an artist’s discography just to hear a handful of tracks, with absolutely no intention of exploring this catalogue of work which they now have before them. However, coming home album in hand, you’ve got much more desire to sit down and listen to this record, in its entirety. And once you’d played it, you’d show it your mates, there was a certain pride in owning certain records. New albums just don’t have the same impact anymore because the music is all too easy to come by. If you’re downloading something just for the sake of it, and not to truly appreciate all the music now at your disposal, ask yourself why? Neither yourself or the artist are really gaining anything from the experience.

Confessions of a tattoo lover

These days, tattoos aren’t just found on gang members, bikers, or Angelina Jolie. You’ll walk into an office, a cafe, or just be on the bus, and it is guaranteed that a lot of the people around you will have some form of permanent body artwork inked into their skin. From being synonymous with rebellious and deviant behaviour, tattoos have become somewhat mainstream. In 2010, a survey revealed that 29 percent of men and women aged 16-44 years old in the UK have been inked. My entire student household have all been inked. More and more people are taking the painful step and enduring the agony of getting a tattoo, and I’ve read plenty of material which make various negative points: that tattoos are not the same anymore since everyone has one; that they don’t look good on women; that people’s career prospects are slim if they displace any form of tattoo in the workplace.

To me, getting a tattoo is an extremely individual decision. People get tattoos to commemorate loved ones, to celebrate life experiences, and sometimes they are there just to put a smile on your face when you roll out of bed. Yes, there are those that rush into tattoos when they are drunk on a beach in Thailand (I know of a handful of these cases), but, apart from that, I do not see a problem with tattoos becoming more popular. Yes, getting inked has bled its way into the mainstream of our 21st century culture, but so what?

Now, I am obviously not part of the motorcycle gang, Iʼve never been to prison, and I am unfortunately not half of Brangelina. However, I definitely am one of those people sitting next to you on the bus or in the queue at Starbucks. I’m a pretty normal girl with two small and discreet tattoos. The most important thing is that I absolutely love them.

Why did I get them, then? Well, as I said before, I strongly feel that they are an extremely personal venture. Some people are addicted to the actual process. The buzzing of the needle and the (well, what I thought) excruciating pain is a major factor for why people keep going back for more. I once met a lady who, apart from her face, had no “canvas” space left to feed her addiction. When asking her what the next step would be, she smiled and said, “Iʼll just have to get even more creative.” On seeing her next, she had completely changed her left arm sleeve from pin up girls and anchors to magnificent Japanese samurai, dragons and Koi carp.

I hated the process. My ribcage tattoo hurt more than bursting my eardrum and dislocating my knee, more than if both of those things happened at the same time. I got my tattoos for me. I know that sounds ridiculously clichéd but, in all honesty, that’s why I have them. I chose their designs, placement and size, and in that respect, they are quite private tattoos. “But why get a tattoo if you are just going to hide it?” “That was pointless, getting a tattoo and then hiding it for the rest of your life.”

NO IT WAS NOT. Tattoos can be so personal and meaningful, and in the long run, the person who really has to end up loving it is not your mum, your boyfriend / girlfriend, or your gym instructor. It is you, at 80 years old, a bit wrinkled and leathery, playing profuse amounts of bingo. I know that I will get to that age and not regret my little inks. With my tattoos, I get to see them everyday, whenever I want (apart from on a bus, because whipping my top up on a Stagecoach may be a little weird), and that’s the way I like it. Even better, I get to pick and choose who gets to see them, and I personally love seeing their faces when they go, “OMG, you have a tattoo? Let me see!”

Tattoo work is art, self-expression and a life-long commitment. If someone’s inked with a Chinese character, Celtic symbol, or even a Manchester United badge, to that person, it means a hell of a lot. Plus, I think they look damn good on women. I know mine do.