Midwinter high spirits in times of sleet and glitter

A Christmas Carol at Bristol Old Vic was never going to end with Tiny Tim saying God Bless Us Every One - like L.P. Hartley's past, they do things differently there. Yet despite burlesque overtones and operatic narration, this irresistibly engaging production stays close to the spirit of the storyline, though with the occasional intrusion of foodbanks and shopping trolleys, and even closer to the spirit of Dickens.  All the principle characters of the story are here: embittered Scrooge, his patient nephew, his loyal clerk with a small sick son, the warning ghosts and phantom-memories of loves and losses... but they're all a little bit unexpected. Bob Cratchit is a chubby deaf mute - so, uncoincidentally, is Mrs Fezziwig (Stephen Collins delightful in both roles) - and Tiny Tim and Ebenezer when very young are played by two children extracted for this purpose from the audience. This is particularly entertaining when Scrooge, observing ethnic diversity between himself and the shiny-eyed happy child he used to be, comments 'It's me! I remember the flat-top.' Our anti-hero's flair for impro is especially useful in the final scene, when he begs the audience to tell him how to make amends: on the night I was there, suggestions were focussed around drinks for all at the bar, until 'Come on you lot, this is the immersive bit!' was rewarded with the suggestion of a turkey, and the drama could move to its happy conclusion.
John Hopkins is tremendous in this central role, terrifyingly nasty until the ghosts take him in hand and the poignancy of his memories evokes a moving grief. Tom Morris's adaptation skilfully enhances the parallels with Dicken's own experiences, subtly emphasising how treatment of the poor and weak in Victorian days is emulated in our own society: it's significant that Ebenezer learnt his contempt for 'lower orders' and his desire to amass wealth when he was sent away to school, as so many of our current political leaders have been.
Historical and social relevance is fascinating but this is above all a strong story retold in a fantastically entertaining style, with great musicality, weird effects and scary puppets, funky costumes, lashings of humour and some weepy moments - everything you want from your favourite morality tale in fact. Massive credit to director Lee Lyford, designer Tom Rogers, musical director/composer/lyricist Gwyneth Herbert, and the ten superb actors - enthusiastically recommended for all ages, on till January 12th. (Images Geraint Lewis)
And another 'winter special' opened this week: Cinderella at the Merlin Theatre in Frome, also impressively re-envisaged, and also presented with masses of music and spectacular effects. Claudia Pepler, who writes and directs these shows, goes back to Grimm's tales - and indeed these original authors control the plot in their manifestation as pigeons, thanks to superb balletic comedy duo Dillon Berry and Pete White, who tell us 'We are the brothers, the brothers Grimm, we're story tellers, or disrupters, if you will - we fly from tale to tale...'
Here's the charming prince (Ben Jenkins) and his adorable Ella (Amy Maughan) watched by her wonderfully dreadful sisters (Tabitha Cox and Abi Holmes), with Victoria May as the stepmother tricked by land-grabbing Dave Merritt. This kind of plot embellishment, as well as Ella's environmental passion, brings the classic tale cleverly up-to-date while losing none of the fairytale quality - in fact Howard Vause's pumpkin-to-coach animation sequence is one of the highlights of a glittering show. This production is up for the Somerset Fellowship of Drama Cinderella Trophy, and so it should be!
(Images: Dave Merritt)
And now for something rather less visual: Writers on Radio, presented by Frome Writers' Collective, is broadcast monthly on Frome FM.  Each programme is a miscellany of information and entertainment on writerly topics, with a dash of music. The upcoming show also includes my short personal tribute to Jill Miller.  Jill will always be remembered for the cancer charity she founded but she was a writer too, and I was invited to share this aspect of her life. Here's the team at the end of the recording: Suzy Howlett, Jules Garvey-Welch, Sian Williams and Lisa Kenwright, with techie PJ - the show goes out Friday Dec 13 and is online here.

Next day saw me back at the studio for the On Air Book Group, broadcast live and online soon, a convivial session with Sheila Hedges at the helm: Books-as-gifts was our seasonal theme, with an overview from Tina Gaisford-Waller, queen of Hunting Raven Books, and a range of ideas from charity shop browsing to splendid editions, like Britain's Forest Story by Frome's Julian Hight. My other recommendations included the marvellous Etymologicon by Mark Forsyth - rapid-fire witty word-loops connecting origins with torrents of historical anecdote - Frome's bookshop will order you a copy for the logophile in your life!  Here's me with Tina and Pat Taylor talking to hosts Karen Stewart and James Ellis with Sheila Hedges - thanks Terry Stewart for the picture of us all. Our chat is online now here - number 37 (06/12/19)


Music report this week is thinner than usual, due to so much else going on: The Back Wood Redeemers at theCornerhouse on Saturday gave their usual stonking selection of dark specialities like Give Them A Good Death in a performance even darker than usual as the light bulb had been removed. So here's a snatched shot of fantastic Eddie Young abandoning his double bass and invading the dance floor - I forget what he was singing but it was awesome...

And a look back now at two ongoing projects in Frome both celebrating successful conclusion: Black Swan's boundary-breaking Listen - a Summer of Sound Art successfully signed off its final programme in a wide-ranging list of events and although contact with the town council and Frome FM to maintain new initiatives will continue, a wrap party seemed appropriate. So Sunday afternoon saw a very pleasant cava and cake party at Black Swan cafe, with a final word from organisers Mel Day and Helen Ottaway, pictured here with sound-wizard Michael Ormiston.

Finally for this week: way back in summer sunshine, a group of Vicki Burke's Fromie friends assembled with her in Rodden Meadow to dance around the big oak as part of Vicki Burke's Magic Money Tree - a campaign video for the project PIPPA (People in Positive Politics Association) filmed by Howard Vause. The preview was on Sunday at Frome's Granary, and as multi-talented Vicki is also a band member in Seize the Day, we had a rebel-rousing introduction to the showing too.
I'll leave you now to the contemplation of your hopes and trepidations for the week ahead...

Winter words ~ poetry and performance

Let's begin with the poetry. I had high expectations of Monday's Frome Festive Poetry Café: dry humour from guest John Christopher Wood plus eclectic variety on the open mic promised a great evening and a supportive forum for unveiling my collection Crumbs from a Spinning World. It was indeed a wonderful event, with full-house audience and a great buzz,  twenty open-mic poets, and John's droll wit immensely popular. From quickies like 'What do you call vicars with no underwear? Nicholas Parsons!! to his reflections on temporal inexactitude and the plasticity of time, there was much word-play to ponder. Audience readings were excellent, ranging from seasonal humour to moving profundity, and I was chuffed with responses to my 'crone' poems ~ thanks David Goodman for the image. Burning Eye Books have now posted the podcast recorded in my kitchen last week ~ link here. If you haven't got 30 minutes (who has?) you could slide to 24.30 for the 'predictive poetry' bit (fun for all) or 27.50 to hear a 'crone' poem.  And despite the drizzle I had some interest for my 'Pop-up Poetry' session on Saturday at the Library ~ thanks Sara Vian for this 40-second video clip!

Festive showtime has arrived, with a double splurge of Bristol's best: Cinderella: A Fairytale at the Tobacco Factory is a revival of the Travelling Light show originally directed by Sally Cookson which I saw & loved five years ago, with several of the same performers as well as the same musical magic. The concept is to retain that Grimm psychological horror at wicked parenting and damaged children, with domestic bullying and bleeding severed toes (they bounce as well, which is particularly awesome) but with beautiful storytelling, tenderness, and humour throughout. Every scene, from the forest of birds to the palace gala, is created by five extraordinary actors and two brilliant musicians. Isabella Marshall as Ella is a delight but her appalling family are even more riveting: Lucy Tuck is mesmeric both as spiteful sister and head-scarfed Queen, and Craig Edwards' metamorphosis from tender father to incandescently evil stepmother will probably haunt me forever. The in-the-round format of Tobacco Factory's main house is perfect for this production, creating an imaginary world through inspired lighting with clever direction ensuring varied viewpoints from all angles throughout. A fabulous show for every age, running till January 22nd but may sell out ~ book while you can! Images Farrows Creative

In contrast to Cinderella's traditional tale, The Snow Queen at Bristol Old Vic adds an elaborate plot involving goblins, robbers, reindeer, radical animal rebels and a psychedelic flower-witch. The acting team and musicians are great but the complexity of storytelling make the hero's journey hard to follow, and re-envisioning that profound shard of ice in the child's heart as a 'mirror of opposites' loses the poignancy and impact of the original Hans Anderson tale.
However there's much to charm: dramatic lighting, lively musicality and spectacular puppetry, as well as superb performances, especially from Gerda and Kai (Emily Burnett & Steven Roberts). I had a soft spot too for the dysmorphic reindeer (Dylan Wood) though his role is bewilderingly extraneous. Written by Vivienne Franzmann, director Lee Lyford and Tom Rogers designer, this runs till 15 January. Images Mark Douet.

And with seasonal shows all around, as someone (probably not Scrooge) must have observed, why stop at two? So on Friday I was back in Frome watching a musical interpretation of Peter Pan by Merlin Theatre Productions, directed by James Moore with a lively cast of 34 plus singers, musicians, and a 7-piece band. With Edwardian London evoked by the ensemble from the start and a story-teller to keep the narrative close to Barrie's style and child-like imagination, the production stayed satisfyingly close to the familiar story, creating 'suspension of disbelief' with minimal props & set. I expected to be annoyed that Captain Hook had been transposed from his alter-ego paternal role to be played by a woman, but Daisy Mercedes won me over with her psychotic dominatrix/Teresa May combo. The lead roles were all well taken, with Ryan Hughes and Tabitha Cox superb as the waiting parents, and the steampunk pirates almost as endearing as the lost boys. I really liked the way the central vision of a boy refusing to grow up was maintained right to the end, so the final song is from Oliver Edward's Pan as courageous anti-hero still rejecting the treadmill life. Impressive show, well done all. Image Ken Abbott

Ending with written word again: Frome Writers' Collective monthly social at Three Swans this week featured a fascinating and informative talk on writing & publishing a personal memoir. Rosie Jackson, whose own memoir The Glass Mother has been much praised, shared her experience of the process. Memoir, Rosie showed, can weave strands of political and social history into personal memory, and can be therapeutic too: "You put the narrative of your life in a container and find the meaning of an experience from your current perspective." As a sample of the genre, Rosie read the start of her book, as did two other local memoirists, all three demonstrating that writerly adage 'An opening should grab you by the throat and compel you to read on.'  Des Harris and Steve Small are previous students of Rosie, who is a highly-rated tutor as well as an elegant writer ~ you can find course details on her new website, which has this lovely image of writing in a summer garden so we can look ahead to better days.

Look behind you... we're nearly there

"All the elements for a magical family pantomime" is the reviewers' concensus on Cinderella at Theatre Royal Bath. Packaged by UK Productions, this is a live show for a TV generation: flat-screen sets, celeb names, Strictly-style dance routines & X-factory song arrangements, and scripted with meta-televisual gags - some genuinely witty, though from response to Fairy Godmother Melanie Walter's omelette-obsession it's a while since anyone watched Gavin & Stacey.  Local references were popular with adults ~ Bath's poshness, parking problems, and proliferation of 'fairies' ~ with farts and bottom jokes for the children.  Funniest moments by far came unscripted: Jon Monie as Buttons is a master of impro and Ugly Sister David Ball's lapses were marvellous, especially when he corpsed after proffering a highly suggestive-looking false leg to Dandini for the slipper-trying-on sequence. Crazily flamboyant and absurdly costumed, the best drag act I've seen since San Francisco's Beach Blanket Babylon.

But Cinderella, of course, is more than a comedy, it's the best-loved rags-to-riches tale in the world, travelling from ancient Greece and reaching us today via Grimm brothers and Perrault. Dani Harmer as the quintessential 'persecuted heroine' is a cheery little thing who evokes no thoughts of actual abused children to spoil the fun ~ indeed Cinder's tale of woe is largely parody, as when as she sings 'I'm all alone' with the entire cast & crew assembled to sympathetically chorus 'except for us'...   Without its dark heart this is a different story from the magical myth that glimmered through the gloom of my postwar childhood, and the only acknowledgement to deprivation here is a gag about Big Issue sellers in the gallery.  But hey, it's that look-behind-you time of year, and the three little girls in princess dresses seated next to me were entranced from first glimpse of the glittery pink safety curtain to the happy-ever-after curtain-calls. Oh and there are real white horses to pull the coach. Well, trained ponies anyway.  Showing till January 12th.

Time now for a seasonal break from public to personal activities with family & friends, possibly till next year. Thank you for reading, go well and, as wonderful Dave Allan used to say, may your god go with you.

Bristol-based theatre company Travelling Light has a big name for their devised productions, so I was keen to see their version of Cinderella despite the fact the promo image looked like a cover shot for a Pia Jewellery catalogue. Happily their Ella was more like a traveller from the woods of Jerusalem, sprinting to the ball with leaves in her old bowler hat and glitter on her Doc Martins, and the show was an absolute delight. Director Sally Cookson used the good-fairy birds and the toe-butchering eye-pecking savagery of the Grimm Brothers version, but wove in panto-style comedy too: the prince is an asthmatic bird-watcher with a striking resemblance to Austin Powers, and there's oodles of saucy cross-dressing. Music is a big part of the magic, Benji Bower and brother Will creating a vivid and exquisite soundscape to match every mood.
Unsurprisingly, this imaginative and cleverly-executed show is sold out till the end of the run but I managed to slip in at a schools performance and enjoyed the add-on pleasure of seeing the children's engrossed enchanted faces and hearing their frank reactions ("Yeah!" as streamers of blood flow from the wicked stepmother's gouged eyeballs, and "Yucch!" for the lovers' smoochy kiss.) Their responses on the blackboard in the foyer said it all: ‘amazing’, ‘brilliant’, ‘loveley but scary', 'I like the lights’ and ‘its great its only 5 people and the music is great’.

Another nearly-missed treat, this time in Bath: The Holburne Museum garden this winter has been filled with thousands of colour-changing fibre-optic lights, creating a Field of Light that comes to life as dusk deepens into night. The installation closes today but I heard about it just in time to experience this amazing artwork.

And there will now be a short intermission. I'm not taking my laptop to Cambodia, where I'll be offering guidance on finding way of processing through writing what looks like an amazing adventure holiday... full report to follow after 18th January, when I'm home again.
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Panto night at Poetry Café on Wednesday saw the Garden Café crammed for Paula Hammond's adjudication of the poetry and prose performances at the annual Merlin Pantomime Poetry Café night. Eighteen contestants for prizes - theatre tickets and panto merchandise – delighted the packed room with an amazing diversity of moods and memorable moments. “That’s not my name” was the theme, since this year’s Merlin show features Rumpelstiltskin, and stories and verses all celebrated identity. Everyone had their own personal favourites, but Paula’s final pick was popular: Phyllis Higgins and Linda Perry, both with a witty take on the theme, took runner-up prizes, with Dianne Penny and Gordon Graft joint First. Both these talented performance poets brought a personal angle to the seasonal spangle, thought-provoking as well as moving.

Over in Shepton Mallet, another pantomime night as the students of Musical Theatre School gave us a preview of the future with a zany but very sweet version of Cinderella. Nicholas Morrison, totally charismatic as the king, is the one to watch out for. Kookiest moment: ensemble rendition of 'That's why the Lady a Tramp' around Cinders' mother's grave...

Bath was abuzz on Saturday, pedestrianised streets as slow-moving as an easyjet check-in, though with more entertainment, stalls selling woolly hats & world's smallest kites, and a lovely girl giving "Free hugs - because it's Christmas!" I have an urban shopping policy: never buy more than 4 things, the first of which must be a large coffee. It works fine, allowing time for trying on unsuitable glamorous garb and general browsing, and today to watch Where The Wild Things Are.
Sendak's story was a family favourite in my bedtime-reading days so I couldn't resist seeing how even the genius of Spike Jonze would stretch a slim picture book to a 100 minute feature film. The answer is: surprisingly well as long as you don't expect a children's movie. It's all about a child - the beautiful, naughty, constantly endearing Max Records as Max - but that child, you quickly find, morphs into your deepest self and probably everyone you've ever known and loved. This is not cosy viewing. We're shown in painful detail why Max made mischief in his wolfsuit. His journey through the dark night of the soul lands him in a place he can understand because it's full of rage, rejection, and loneliness - each of these furry monsters is angst-filled as an RD Laing textbook. And Max, to avoid being eaten, has promised to be their king. All is well for about as long as it takes for a chronically insecure bunch of dysfunctionals to realise that a wild rumpus isn't much cop as a regal policy, and Max discovers all over again the hostility of strangers is nothing like as bad as upsetting those you love. He admits he's not a king, only a Max. "That's not much" scoffs his fiercest, darkest, alter ego - the one he most needs to reconcile with. And reconcile he finally does, with a long wordless howl across the sunset sea. As you'll all know Max gets safely home for his supper in the end, no spoilers here - just a warning: take tissues, not tots.
Emerging from an afternoon show in winter is eerie: people-packed streets have emptied and street-lights have inherited the kingdom of dark Bath, a solitary busker on the corner strumming a song of his own devising:
Shoppers are gone
It's too late, girl, too late...

Still on a festive season theme: Carol Ann Duffy's poetic-laureate version of The 12 Days of Christmas (read it here) caused raised eyebrows for its dark imprecations against politicians, bankers, celebrities, racism and war. Fellow poet Roger McGough comments "She's using her new post in the best way." And so say all of us.
Over at Nunney, during a great afternoon of live music - with bar, Sunday papers and the spanky Frome Street Bandits- this familiar carol was also caustically reinvented by Douglas Hamilton, with an internet twist and a message that would not display... All together now!
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