Showing posts with label Grain Bar Roots Sessions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grain Bar Roots Sessions. Show all posts

Friday, April 12, 2019

Spring stirrings & burgeonings

It's been a busy week. April began by doing the TS Eliot thing of stirring dull roots with spring rain while Frome enjoyed a plethora of music, with The Cornerhouse hosting four fabulous events: The Raggedy Men, purveyors of classic punk with attitude, riffs, & harmonica, were featured guests at a massive party last Saturday and were superbly supported by various local musicians including an impro group combining regular favourites plus guests. The gorgeous Screaming Harlots showed a new side to their talents, teaming up with birthday boy David Goodman and others as The Hoodoos, joined by Mike Goodman for an unforgettable version of Wicked Game.
A change of mood here next night for the lively Jazz Jam, with regulars and guests including violinist Jonny Griffiths.
And the excellence continued at Wednesday's Roots Session in the Grain Bar with Glastonbury trio Lazy Daze, song-writing musicians with echoes of Eagles, superbly supported by original folksinger Bob Gallie.

In dramatic news, rehearsals for the Nevertheless Frome Festival production Where the Fault Lies are going well.  Our talented actors are already off-book for one of these 'four short plays to intrigue and amuse' at The Cornerhouse on 10th July - still at our pocket-friendly price of £5. See how seriously they take their warm-ups!

Another of Hunting Raven Books' soiree events saw the Nunney Poetry group led by Moira Andrew launching their first collaborative collection: The poets featured in Hand in Hand read samples of their work and Moira contributed from her extensive oeuvre at this pleasant and relaxed event. Here's Rebecca Davis, reading All the Buildings, and Mike Grenville reading Citatrix, his superb response to the Black Swan exhibition of work related to army devastation on Salisbury Plain.

April doesn't just bring showers and that welcome clock change, the first Sunday is an Independent Market Day for Frome, as always the busiest day of the month.


 Ending this post, which seems to have evolved into mingled events and weather report, with an image of spring flowers in sunshine - these ones in Mells where the daffodils couldn't wait for their official Day on Easter Monday, and yellow is giving way to blue...

Monday, December 10, 2018

Bands, words, and surprising sunshine

Seasonal spangly candly celebration abounds now in Frome but the weather in our neck of the woods doesn't seem to have yet got the hang of winter. Mild days enlivened by rainfall in literal floods alternate with dazzling sunshine and blue skies enlivened by birdsong - possibly from birds that should be halfway to Africa by now.  Maybe they too don't want to leave Europe.
On, quickly, then to arts news beginning this week with live music. Captain Cactus and the Screaming Harlots on Wednesday's Roots Session at the Grain Bar gave a fantastic performance in a party atmosphere that delighted the crowd who squeezed in for the penultimate show of the year. As well as great musical performances this band are always a visual delight with lots of drama - this time enhancing their instrumental accompaniment with sousaphone and kazoos - eager audience participation for those - with a plea from 1982 to Stop The Cavalry (Patrick you get 3 stars for noting my title gaffe!)
Thursday evening the Granary had a great night of garage & punk bands - here's Los Grebos -
and Saturday the splendidly eccentric Blue Midnight made a welcome return to the Cornerhouse. 'Unlike anything you've ever heard' as trombonist Nick Waterhouse modestly describes a band that melds reggae with folk, adding violin, bass, harmonica, drum & vocals, playing songs called things like His moustache is part of the family but he isn't and Can't pay the rent! No image for Sunday's Frome Jazz Club at the Cornerhouse but an excellent session of Nordic works from Keith Harrison-Broninski's trio with trumpeter Gary Alesbrook. I especially liked Witchi-tai-to, based on the Jan Garbarek version, Keith tells me (if I've got that right) and Dodge the Dodo.

Frome FM Radio station is thinking about books for Christmas, which is very nice for me: Writers on Radio on Tuesday invited me to talk about Frome Unzipped and to read an extract in a programme extremely professionally led by Sara Scholefield which included also some excellent tips for writers from Suzy Howlett and Lisa Kenwright (link here). On Wednesday the Book Group invited me to join them to discuss gifts for avid readers and also the counter-phenomenon of tsundoku which probably happens everywhere but only the Japanese have sensibly identified the common habit of collecting new books and not getting round to reading them.. link to that on the Book Group page as 7th December's show.

Frome Unzipped also enjoyed a place on the bookstall of Nunney Road Christmas Bazaar, warmly hosted by Elanor Steel Ceramics and crammed with crafts, cakes, and mulled wine, where I was delighted to meet Dave Hamilton, who writes widely on countryside topics, and to agree to his suggested book-swap.

Meanwhile..... plans for a Nevertheless production in Frome Arts Festival 2019 are already showing their tiny fecund tips... we have the venue booked, the actors, the scripts... fans of pub theatre, keep an eye on our page in the coming weeks!

Saturday, May 05, 2018

Whale song and other music...

Sometimes, very occasionally, I get to see a production so overwhelming I don’t know where to begin, even in my own feelings never mind reviewing. Wednesday night at Bath’s Ustinov Studio was one of those. It didn't sound promising: a morbidly obese man stuck in a room with his unforgiving memories and a heart condition. But The Whale, by Samuel D Hunter, superbly directed by Lawrence Boswell, was two hours of mesmeric theatre - deceptively complex and breath-takingly moving. Shuler Hensley was simply awesome, utterly convincing as man-mountain Charlie, and well supported by the rest of the cast especially Rosie Sheehy as belligerant Ellie and Ruth Gemmell as collusive friend Liz. Charlie is a pedantic online literature tutor, hiding his self-loathing reality from his students, and throughout the traumatic week of the play's action he has to confront not only his own mortality and his ever-present demons but his hostile daughter, spiky ex-wife, and a Mormon preacher with a message from God. (Charlie's painful journey does make him a better teacher incidentally, but the American assignment system isn't yet ready for integrity...) As in Herman Melville's whale tale, and in Walt Whitman's Song of Myself which is also a crucial reference, there’s more enigmatic symbolism than you could cram in a bucket of popcorn (and also bonus irony after the furore of indignation over Bob Dylan's alleged plagiarism of Sparknotes in his analysis of Moby Dick for the Nobel Prize lecture.) Some of the structural detail in the writing is slightly overcontrived, but the combination of direction, stage design, and cast has created an unforgettable production.  'That’s the best show I’ve ever seen here,’ murmured the man behind me as applause finally died down at the end. ‘Speechless’ was the word in the loos, which says it all really, it’s normally full of chatter there. If you want to see how live theatre can be more epic than any movie, I urge you to go. On till June 2nd.
Music now:
The Dead South coming to Bristol on their European tour caused quite a sensation - I booked as soon as I saw them on the Colston Hall date list, and so many others were equally excited that Saturday's event had to be moved to the more capacious Anson Room of the Student Union. A great gig, with the highlight their 60,000,000-times-now-viewed dirt-rock tale In Hell I'll Be In Good Company - blends elements of folk, bluegrass, and rock which results in a unique, modern, and authentic blend of boot-stompin' acoustic music.' I couldn't put it better, except maybe with 'gritty' somewhere. Do click the track link, but be warned, it'll stay with you all day...
Recently I've  been largely out of Frome's music scene, but made a point of not-missing two excellent jazz sessions at the Cornerhouse: we are incredibly lucky to have these regular gigs from musicians of the calibre of John Law and Keith Harrison-Broninski, working with other superb musicians, often on demanding esoteric pieces and always with fabulous impro solos... and Roots Sessions at the Grain Bar always have something good: last week it was Phil Cooper on his Thoughts and Observations tour, sharing the session with Jamie R Hawkins. Phil's thoughtful and observant songs are always engagingly delivered, with a high audience-connection factor.
And on Friday at the Cornehouse, Azhaar with her Global Wave band created a fabulous South American vibe at the launch of her debut album Original Love.

A preview now: I'm sometimes asked why I don't share the incredible stuff that goes on in Frome before, rather than after, the event - which would be a reasonable point if this were a listing service, but it it's only a blog, so I'm afraid you get to see mostly what's been and gone (apart from this time The Whale in Bath - so BOOK NOW!) but I'll end this cursory post with a plug for the next Poetry Cafe, because we have Matt Duggan fresh from his US tour and it will be a goodie...  enjoy Bank Holiday y'all, I will be nose to the metaphorical grindstone editing The Book... not long now...

Sunday, April 22, 2018

Pleasure, passion, purpose - and sunshine

Let's start with the good news. Our national treasure of a health service is 100 this year, and Dr Phil is touring with a new one-man stand-up show to say Happy Birthday NHS! His first stop was Frome last week, to a packed and approving audience at the Merlin Theatre. As an anecdotal comedian Dr Phil is scatological and politically scathing, and as a medical adviser he's intelligent and humane. It's a good combo. He gives a potted history of the centegenarian institution, from its birthing by Nye Bevan to falling into the clutches of Jeremy Hunt. ('I have a mate who went to school with him and he says he wasn't very bright'.) But Dr Phil remains confident of the future - as long as we avoid privatisation and don't go down the other US route of 'incentified' prescribing, which results in a culture of unnecessary drugs, vaccinations, and operations.  The secret of health, he confides, is pleasure, passion, and purpose. Thirty minutes of walking - or any activity - every day is better than any drug. And other such adages which are even more encouraging when a fit-looking doctor insists on them.

Black Swan Arts has a new exhibition: Cicatrix, a wonderful word which sounds like a Greek siren but actually means the scar of a healed wound. Three Wiltshire artists have been commissioned to study and visually report on Salisbury Plain, for the last 120 years a battlefield with no enemy. One early casualty of this destruction rehearsal was Imber, the evacuated village. It's also been target practice for battles in Northern Ireland and test ground for unnamed substances fatal to the juniper trees. Tiny things there, however, are thriving: rare wild flowers and butterflies are rampant. Dawn Gorman led an excellent poetry workshop around the show for Words at the Black Swan on Monday.
There's also a new exhibition at the HUBnub Centre: Fragmental, paintings by Georgina Towler, combining to create vivid presence in a diffuse and expansive space that can be difficult to dominate.

Another author event at Hunting Raven Books - unusual only in that Tyler Keevil's connection with Frome is tenuous though charming: A Canadian now living in Wales, he won the very first Frome Festival Short Story Contest back in 2004 when his talent spotted by Alison Clink who inaugurated this event and it was this success - he claims, and we believe - which emboldened him to find his voice in writing. Tyler now makes his living through fiction and is on tour with his current novel No Good Brother, with his brother Jonathan who contributed a music element to the readings. An unusual launch event - but that's Frome isn't it...
Music information is sparse again this week - I intended to see that irresistibly-named Goat-Ropers Rodeo Band at 23 Bath Street on Saturday but the skies over Frome decided to put on a strobe light show all evening, accompanied by biblical proportions of torrential rain, so I stayed in and watched Dave worked, I mean. Pete Gage in fine form last Saturday created a dance party in Sam's Kitchen, (there was a Prince dance party afterwards too) and Velvet and Stone brought their haunting melodies and songs again to Roots Sessions at the Grain Bar.

And we had four days of summer! which is not strictly relevant to an arts blog, but when temperatures more than double overnight ~ we reached 29° (that's 84° to you, Mo) ~ it becomes essential to channel one's inner Nietzsche and stride out into the birdsong and blossom... especially when the medieval fields and ancient lanes around Frome may not be there to stride in future days...

We owe it to the fields that our houses will not be the inferiors of the virgin land they have replaced. We owe it to the worms and the trees that the building we cover them with will stand as promises of the highest and most intelligent kinds of happiness.
           - Alain de Botton, The Architecture of Happiness.

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Snow, sounds, & a sumptuous show in Salisbury

Another posting of mostly snapshots.... the music scene in Frome right now seems even more incredibly rich than usual.Here, without much comment, are some of the terrific sessions in town, starting with the Frome Busk, a day of young talent on show all around the town. They were all excellent, but to give a taste of the day here's the Front Runners serenading buyers around the market stalls, youngest performer Scarlett Brudnell, Archie Ttwheam who I reckon we'll all see more of, and Fresher & Angel, who won a spot at a Sunrise festival for their set.

In other music news, Crossing the Rockies did a great set at Three Swans and Phil King was epic at the Grain Bar Root Session - I keep playing Do Not Surrender...to your past, do not surrender to your king, do not surrender to your fears, do not surrender anything...
Three Acres and a Cow, which I've long wanted to see, came to the Rye Bakery with a provocative compilation of songs and narratives of the ongoing struggle of the people against their rulers, re-telling the legends we call 'history' with the authentic experiences through the ages. An excellent practice, and a sad outrage that it's not part of what we call our education system.

And then we had snow again... and some things got cancelled, but not all. The Black Swan Arts 'Young Open' exhibition presented 190 fantastic images from 350 entered by young artists aged from 8 to 19, in an incredible display of vibrant pieces showing extraordinary imagination and skill.  The Long Gallery had been especially prepared by one of Frome's favourite street artists Paris and the whole room looked fabulous.
Also at the weekend, a reunion with an amazing group of writers who met on a Skyros course at The Grange ten years ago, and continued to inspire each other with online support and intermittent meet-ups ever since. Sometimes I'm invited to join their session, held this time in Frome as snow flakes whirled softly pass the Cornerhouse window and slowly claimed the town.

A good production of  The Importance of Being Earnest, Oscar Wilde's witty, contemptuous, critique of upper-class obsession with status and birth, can never fail to delight. Original Theatre at Salisbury played it perfectly, on a superb fin-de-siècle set with gorgeously lavish costume, a visual treat throughout. (Designer: Gabriella Slade.) Gwen Taylor as the imperious Lady Bracknell looked amazing, like a steam-train in taffeta, and her scoffing mirth during that famous 'handbag' exchange was a brilliant touch. The men were fine, especially Geoff Aymer as Canon Chasuble, but it was the women who really owned the show. Susan Penhaligan's Miss Prism's brimmed with suppressed lasciviousness and Louise Coulthard deliciously evoked Blackadder's Queenie in her bored, impetuous, Cecily. Director Alistair Whatley has created a well-paced production which not only looks sumptuous and maximises the absurdity and wit of the script but also reminds us of cruelty of English society in 1895 - only months before the lionised playwright became himself a victim. 

Sunday, November 19, 2017

Retrospective moments & Restoration drama

I had high hopes of the current Tove Jansson exhibition at Dulwich Picture Gallery, which I visited on Thursday, and it totally exceeded them. I realised she was more than a clever illustrator from the existential anguish and ever-present incomprehensible wildness that pervades her magical tales of Moominland, but I hadn't expected the richness of her candid & personal paintings - I love this one of her family, with Tove herself slightly caricatured, watching her brothers play chess just before the war. (Lars, the one who is not in uniform, became her business partner & collaborater later in life.)
Tove was a passionate pacifist, and her cover illustrations for the Finnish satirical magazine Garm throughout the war years show her views. This 1944 one is filled with little Hitlers, robbing farms and households, torching barns, and trying on a crown. There's a tiny little creature clasping the M in this cover, and also on others, who later evolved into Moomintroll...  The popularity of the Moomin characters and stories led to comic strips and merchandise but Tove accepted few commercial propositions - for Amnesty, UNICEF and the Red Cross she made an exception. She also seems to have had a filtering policy on her literary illustrations, apparently only taking The Hunting of the Snark, The Hobbit, and Alice in Wonderland.  
After a couple of hours at the gallery I wanted to buy up the gift shop, but calmed myself with a reminder of some of the permanent treasures of this extraordinary little gallery, the first dedicated art-gallery in England and home to treasures like Gainsborough's Linley Sisters, Murillo's street urchins, Rembrandt's Girl at a Window, Reynold's portrait of Mrs Siddons being tragic, and a mesmeric self-portrait by John Opie.
Time then for a wander round the rest of Dulwich with my brother, who has a far better recolletion of this part of south London we both grew up in, me in the 1950s and he in the '60s. It's changed a lot, is all I can say, and all for the better. (Thanks Pete for the picture)

Still on a time-trekking theme, this time back to the days of Abigail's party, with the launch of Return to Kirrin at Hunting Raven Books. Set in 1979, it's an affectionately-spoofy envisaging of the grown-up lives of Enid Blyton's renowned quintet ~ and that's as many clues as I'm allowed without getting sued. Co-authors Suzy & Neil Howlett shared their skills, Neil providing pace & plot while Suzy added detail and nostalgic enthusiasm for Blytonesque style of story-telling: 'like that baby fleece you cuddle up to, and then grow out of.' There's uncertainty around the location of Kirrin, claimed by Dorset as based around Corfe but perhaps more plausibly an island off Cornwall seen by Enid on holiday. It seems appropriate that these origins are lost in the past.  My own experience of the jolly japers is limited to the Comic Strip Presents version in 1982, but then I had an odd childhood. A retro-party at Three Swans led to interesting comparisons of era & values, and lashings of canapes. (Incidentally, the famous phrase "lashings of ginger beer" never appeared in any of the Famous Five books... oops, gone and used the FF words. Sosumi!)
Now a leap backwards of over 300 years, with a revival of a Restoration Comedy classic: The Provoked Wife as produced by Stepping Out Theatre is lavishly stylish and authentic in every Baroque detail ~ even the venue.
Kings Weston House just north of Bristol is a long trek from Frome, but there's something quite magical about watching a play written by John Vanbrugh in the mansion he himself designed for the politician Edward Southey in the early 18th Century. In a room panelled with life-size Gainsborough-esque portraits, with lighting enhanced by chandeliers, an in-the-round performance allows the audience an intense connection with the shenanigans and improprieties of the characters. In these genteel surroundings, we sit quiet as the sylphs in Rape of the Lock (Pope too is scathing of the affectations of this era), and find ourselves voyeurs of plots both predacious and mendacious. I won't go into details ~ there's a lot of story, and it moves fast ~ other than to say the wife in question, Lady Brute, decides to take revenge by an affair, and the knock-on effect is no end of lasciviousness and frivolity. In the midst of this is a jealous neighbour and her french maid, who is really a bloke called Tom (Sam Dugmore) in frock, wig, and lippy. There's an abundance of frocks, wigs, and lippy actually: the provoking husband dons one when drunk, the magistrate he's hauled up before next day is clearly wearing a corset... Costumes are a huge part of this show, as is the amazing music (baroque with undertones of Benny Hill) created by Colin Smith and John Telfer.
The cast of eight are all strong, creating audience rapport in every scene: I was especially moved by Lady Brute and Belinda (Stephanie Manton) in a scene of rare intimacy without their wigs ~ a poignant reminder that behind the apparent licentiousness of these bored, intelligent, young women, their options were... well, nonexistent. Women, married or not, had no rights, however violent their husbands. This clever production is not only fabulous to look at and very funny, it manages to remind us of the kind of 'English' values best left behind. We're still working on some of them... Directed by Briony Waite, with the Stepping Out company support team in baroque finery to set the mood, and an after-show supper in the dining hall as extra excitement.

A half-hour Uber-ride, and three centuries, away in central Bristol, Luke Wright was performing The Toll at the Wardrobe Theatre. This photo isn't quite right hair-wise, but I can't find one closer: the Johnny Bevan look is gone and it's boyish again ~ in fact Luke still complains he's I-Dd regularly when trying to do grown-up things. It's probably difficult to know how to follow a multi-award-winning show (for both acting and writing) and Luke has gone back to what he also does so well: intimate performance of powerful poems. His tour takes its name from his latest collection, but it's the chat that makes these poems ones to hear as well as read. Luke is a master of traditional formats and wordplay and wit, but it's his narrative ballads, serious, satirical & often sad, that stay. And I really like that he opened with one inspired by coming to Frome and seeing Cley Hill.


Which brings me nicely back home to Frome, where Wednesday was an excellent night at the Grain Bar Roots Session with Swampgrass, an amazing blues band from Glastonbury, ably supported by Julian (Bugs) Hight.





As winter creeps in there's been much lantern-making, in free workshops run by Mel Day and Aliss Vaas, where so many lanterns have been made I'm surprised there's not a national shortage of withies and tissue and sloppy white glue. It's all for a candlelit procession on December 1st, and this is Orion's creation in progress, being recorded by a Danish film crew who arrived in town last week to film the Doings of Frome ~ the sort of thing that often happens here.


Finally this week, Sunday's Chocolate Festival, an annual jollity when Cheese & Grain hall is crammed with stalls dedicated to all things chocolatey, from a recreation of Willy Wonka's Factory garden to chocolate shoes and make-up, there's every colour, texture, and flavour imaginable & then some more (lime & chilli is delicious) and the smells are amazing. Here's a glimpse of the crowded hall, with Empress of Chocolate herself, Jo Harrington, looking happy. As she should.  Now I'm off to nibble on a slice of Kraken Rum & Raisin Cheesecake.