Dramatic dysfunctions & other distractions

The main feature, culturally, this week is The Fever Syndrome at Hampstead Theatre, the tale of a family gathered to celebrate their father's lifetime award for scientific success. Time Out gave only 2 stars to this 'overwrought and underwhelming drama' by Alexis Zegerman but I'd already booked for a matinee as a talisman of hope back in those dire cold days in February, and bought my Berry Bus ticket too, so to London it was.  A sunny walk through Regent's Park and a strong performance by Robert Lindsay as the patriarch both rewarded me, but the review did have a point: the actors were excellent but all seven characters are in personal crisis so there's little variety in emotional tone. 

Some  directorial decisions made by Roxana Silbert seemed added specifically to vary this unrelenting solidity by adding odd behaviours under stress, but the main attraction remained Lizzie Clachan's inspired set design: the entire house sliced through the middle to reveal everyone's activity at all times.

But the story is long, overly intellectual, and unrelentingly sad. And there's a child ghost, a further distraction to confirm that you can't throw everything in the larder into a bowl and expect it to make a good pudding. Here's the set viewed from my seat, and below is a moment from my walk through the park & up Primrose Hill, from Baker Street to Swiss Cottage - the best enjoyment of the day.

To Shakespeare now, so steady yourself for another rocky ride:

If you decide to update Shakespeare's Henry V, as Donmar Warehouse has, it's probably a good idea, at this point in time, to find some new angle on the brazenly patriotic theme of English courage in invading other lands. This National Theatre Live production directed by Max Webster was streamed to participating venues - including Merlin Theatre - on Thursday and a small audience watched Kit Harrington take the role of the king, showing him as monotonously brutal from his puking party days to his aggressive invasion of France as soon as he was crowned.

It may have been awesome for the live audience in London, inches away from full-on action with flashing lights and impressive props as well as intense emotion and manic energy, but it was exhausting to watch on screen. Long sequences of subtitles were required for scenes in which the script had been translated into French, presumably for historical verisimilitude although, with a multi-national mixed-gender cast, that aspect inevitably remained evasive. I don't know the bard's view of Henry as a king but in this production he's a deeply unpleasant character: a war-monger and a bully, with a compulsion to dominate everyone around. It was a very long 3½ hours.

Art now, made in Frome & small but perfect. Dan Morley, renowned for his superb paintings of tiny items like feathers and keys, has taken his observation of detail in a different way. Jonathan Meades in Museum without Walls wrote of 'the glory of decay, decrepitude's pattern-making, entropy's sublimity' in our inconspicuous hinterlands, and Dan's new exhibition at the WHY Gallery, Unseen, explores this concept in a fascinating way with a list of the locations of the small gems photographed & then meticulously painted. This irresistible exhibition runs till 4th June - strongly recommended: you may look at these 'unseen landscapes' (as Robert Macfarlane in Landmarks calls them) in a different way in future, and perhaps record some yourself: here's an exquisite detail of graffiti near the river painted by Dan.  Inspired by these tiny images, Eleanor Talbot & I photographed some urban 'edgelands' in Apple Alley and then went, via HydeAway secret cocktail bar, to Home.in.Frome for a superb Spanish tapas board & fizz.

And on to music: Bar Lotte, always offering excellent sound on a Wednesday night, this week gave us The Country Boys who luckily turned out to be more Postmodern Jukebox than Worzels, with funky jazz numbers and sensational skills on guitar & vocals (Joseph Trudgeon), bass & harmonica (Bill Frampton) and keyboard (Dan Somers). They're not a regular line-up, but let's hope they visit again.

Ending with a blast of nature: the Easter blossoming from the Judas tree in Frome's Victoria Park, allegedly so named because that disciple hanged himself in penitence from one of this species. A gentler theory suggests the name derives from Arbre de Judée, as these trees are abundant in Judea. Yet another name is the Love Tree. It doesn't have the fairytale-ballgown-style coverage of many other flowering trees in Frome, or the majesty of splendid veterans, but it's a favourite of mine because the pinky-red blossom bursts from the bark without waiting for foliage.  

And when the wild garlic blooms, it's time to head for the woods... this one is by Berkley, just beyond the town, every yard of it thick with wood anemones and the dense blue haze of bluebells... thanks David Goodman for being my guide to this paradise.

Forget the lost summer, there's post-equinox fizz now...

After a skimpy summer, and a heatwave that went awol, this was a good week for autumnal indulgence.

I've never before been to a Speakeasy, where you knock on a back alley door for entry into a den of alcoholic luxury,  but last week Eleanor Talbut initiated me into the HydeAway with its menu of exotic cocktails. In this Hollywood-rococo style bar we were served by professional mixologist Giles, who gave me the backstory of my negroni: he uses Holm Oak smoke to create the dramatic effect on arrival at the table, and sees cocktails as creative experiences, taking inspiration from memories of colour, smell and taste from childhood as well as the visual skills he used as a cameraman for BBC documentaries. Add Gilbert O'Sullivan in the background to complete the scene... another great night out with Ellie, 

which segues nicely into her latest podcast (here):  Déjà Vu is her topic this time, with the usual esoteric medley of tracks on the theme, plus an interview with me about my new book.

I'm not gonna lie, the big event for me this week was the official launch of Déjà Lu at Hunting Raven Books, hosted by dynamic manager Tina Gaisford-Waller, and well attended despite the evening storms.  Once again, thwarted by restrictive format of new improved Blogger, I've resorted to a screenshot image combo to show the welcome & support I enjoyed from Tina, who then took the shot of my audience, a smashing group who came up with great questions and were supportive throughout. 

Art now, and Somerset Open Studios continued throughout the week for the 205 artists particpating across the county - here's another report from a Frome studio: Clive Walley has developed his series of 'Birch trees in the mist' using tar applied by trowel after reading a book about the seige of Stalingrad and pondering on the primitive resources for art that would have been available to the soldiers.  By coincidence my photography that afternoon had included trees by the Frome river path, which in monochrome version are weirdly similar to these atmospheric images  - this is again a screen shot for comparison.

Friday night saw the opening of a solo exhibition from Mel Day at the WHY gallery in Frome. Mel is famed for her amazing twisted-metal writings and other art pieces, but these this prints and drawings show a different aspect of her skills, although these people are mostly bent and twisted too... Elegantly and impossibly contorted, their postures seem poignantly resonant of their internal lives, and perhaps all our lives nowadays.  Dancers and Dreamers is on until mid-November, so do visit if you're near Frome.  

Art is a useful segue into the Frome Independent, too, as this nationally-famous street market - cancelled for over a year - is now enjoying its first-Sunday-of-the-month status in the streets, alleys, and open spaces of our town, and art & craft feature even more than cheese!  (This month there were wild mushrooms too, collected by The Happy Forager). 

Local artist David Daniels who always pitches on Catherine Hill, has some fabulous new 'storyboards' of tiny landscapes, and - since encouraging young artists is a political act - these handcrafted resin earrings from the stall of Bristol jeweller Rosa Pietsch were irresistible too. And of course, there's the wonderful busking stage where superb sound is guarunteed from Luke Emery - this week with four top class acts: Nick Balura, the Bert Jansch of Frome, followed by the 'twisted blues and religious fervor of hugely popular The Back Wood Redeemers - then reggae rythms from the Mellowtones, and for the final hour, folk from Crossing the Rockies. Here's the irreligious Back Wood boys extolling their enjoyment of a chocolate Jesus. 

Party time this week started on Thursday at the Black Swan, with a welcome to Malcolm Lloyd, the incoming Chair of Trustees, with drinks & nibbles in the courtyard - a very pleasant occasion. And Friday's wedding party in Great Elm Village Hall had some great acts from a range of Frome performers all evening, and when the sound system collapsed, the Hoodoos simply leapt onto a bench and treated us to an unforgettable acoustic version of the Rattlin' Bog....

with Saturday's party at Frome's Rook Lane Chapel celebrating the birthday of a local opera singer who not only performed superbly herself but also inspired open-mic from many of her guests (who were polite enough to also applaud my unexpectedly-required and just-about-recalled poem rendition of You know it's a Fairytale) - was also impressive entertainment, again ending with dancing. So that's two nights of quality performances concluding with wonderful Anne singing like this converted nonconformist chapel was the Albert Hall.  The diversity of talent in this small town is astounding. 

And now that October has made the season officially autumn, it's time for the Ezra Pound poem that I generally offer at this time in the year:

And the days are not full enough

And the nights are not full enough

And life slips by like a field mouse

Not shaking the grass