Arts Reviews

The good, bad and ugly in arts and exhbitions

Wednesday

Marianne Gray

In love with Hamlet, Dylan, Keats . . .

Ben Whishaw sits unrecognised, wearing a black T-shirt and drinking red wine in a dark corner of the Royal Court’s café. He has just come off stage from rehearsing Mike Bartlett’s new play Cock — in which he plays a chap who takes a break from his boyfriend and accidentally meets the girl of his dreams — and he’s still all buzzed up. I had been warned that giving interviews isn’t Whishaw’s favourite occupation. But it certainly doesn’t show here. There’s no sulkiness or distractedness on his part. Perhaps his recent jaunt around the US, to promote his hotly tipped performance as John Keats in the film Bright Star, has

Andrew Lambirth

Spiritual awakening

The Sacred Made Real: Spanish Painting & Sculpture 1600–1700 National Gallery, until 24 January 2010 If Spanish 17th-century painting and sculpture don’t immediately appeal to you, be prepared to try the new show at the National Gallery — it’s a revelation. I was brought up in the Church of England and used rather to look down on the bleeding hearts of Roman Catholic iconography. Of course, some of the sculpture you see in Catholic churches can be crude or even vulgar — just as some of the stuff that passes for modern art in English churches is misjudged and misplaced — but the polychrome religious sculpture of 17th-century Spain is

Lloyd Evans Lloyd Evans

Starry night

The Rise and Fall of Little Voice Vaudeville Life is a Dream Donmar Midnight in a northern slum. The pubs have closed and a boozy, blousy, past-it single mum is trying to seduce a handsome young talent scout. He deters her advances until he hears her teenage daughter, alone in her bedroom, singing jazz classics. The girl is an undiscovered star who can impersonate all the great 20th-century divas, Ella, Edith, Shirley, Dusty, Lulu. The talent scout decides to launch her career and prise her from the clutches of her bullying, drunken mother. Jim Cartwright’s 1992 play is an ingenious comic update of Cinderella. From the producer’s point of view

Deborah Ross

Innocence betrayed

An Education 12A, Nationwide An Education is based on the memoir by the journalist and interviewer Lynn Barber, with a screenplay by Nick Hornby, and, although the word from all the various festivals has been that it is wonderful, I know you will not believe it unless you hear it from me so here you are: it is wonderful. I am even hoping that now we’ve had the book and the film it isn’t the end of Ms Barber spin-offs, and that there may be a dedicated theme park or, failing that, at least an action doll. I don’t know what form it would take exactly, but would expect it

Robin Holloway

Always a Luddite

I have just inherited my College’s collection of long-playing records, now redundant, with permission to retain, give away, otherwise dispose of if and as possible. I have just inherited my College’s collection of long-playing records, now redundant, with permission to retain, give away, otherwise dispose of if and as possible. The cumbrous piles, gradually easing into categories, have littered my rooms all summer; their dispersal is piecemeal and slow. Put together with love and knowledge from the late-Sixties on, the collection eventually totalled some 300 records. But are they so redundant? Though the universal triumph of the CD has swept away the LP as surely as the LP superseded the

Kate Chisholm

Children in need

‘I want people to feel quite shocked,’ said Professor Tanya Byron in her opening lecture for Radio Three’s annual Free Thinking festival. ‘I want people to feel quite shocked,’ said Professor Tanya Byron in her opening lecture for Radio Three’s annual Free Thinking festival. This year’s theme is the 21st-century family and Byron, the clinical psychologist and presenter of the television series The House of Tiny Tearaways, was addressing an audience in Gateshead where this year’s festival is based. The purpose of ‘free thinking’ is to focus on a subject and take it to its extremes, in the hope that some creative ideas might emerge. Professor Byron’s ‘take’ on the

Saturday

Laura Gascoigne

Museological capriccio

There are not many palazzi in Florence still occupied by their original families. There are not many palazzi in Florence still occupied by their original families. Some, like the Medici, Pitti and Corsi-Horne, have become museums, while others, like the Ciofi-Giacometti — now the five-star Relais Santa Croce — have become hotels. ‘Make do and mend’ is a basic Florentine motto: why build a museum when you can convert an old palazzo, town hall (Palazzo Vecchio), magistrates offices (Uffizi), police station (Bargello) or granary (Orsanmichele)? Another guiding principle of the Florentine museum is do the absolute minimum to a building even if it means, as at Orsanmichele, that sole access

Deborah Ross

Animal caper

Fantastic Mr Fox PG, Nationwide Fantastic Mr Fox is actually no more than So-So Mr Fox, if that, and I was pretty bored right from the get-go. The animation is beautiful, the attention to detail is a thing of wonder — with enough mise-en-scènes to keep even the most fanatical mise-en-scène-ists happy — but the story is a mess, the script is banal and, as visually stunning as it all is, it just doesn’t seem to have any kind of soul. I don’t know what Roald Dahl, who wrote the original story, would say, but I’m betting it’s something along the lines of, ‘Clear off. I’m busy. Don’t come back.’

Giannandrea Poesio

Shock and awe | 24 October 2009

In the Spirit of Diaghilev Sadler’s Wells Inbal Pinto & Avshalom Pollak Dance Company: Hydra Queen Elizabeth Hall In a dance world asphyxiated by a lack of inventiveness, it is refreshing to be confronted by creations that can still provoke, shock and amuse. This is the case with Javier De Frutos’s Eternal Damnation to Sancho and Sanchez, premièred last week at Sadler’s Wells amid audible and visible signs of disapproval and approval. Regarded by some as a gratuitously offensive publicity-seeking stunt, the work is more than a mere succès de scandale. The graphic sex, the near-blasphemous use of religious motifs, the phallic-centered iconography of Katrina Lindsay’s sets, and the in-your-face

James Delingpole James Delingpole

Crime watch

Oh. My. God. Can it really be, like, 16 years since it was 1993? I very much fear it can and the reason the thought is so bothersome is that I remember thinking, even back then, ‘Blimey, I really am getting on a bit. Can’t do pills nearly as often as I used to. The yawning grave beckons. Etc.’ This all came back to me while watching Murderland (ITV1, Monday) in which Robbie Coltrane plays someone a bit like Fitz from Cracker — only with most of the vices (drinking, chain-smoking, gambling) removed. Coltrane has denied there’s any connection, pointing out that this new character is a detective, not a

Tiffany Jenkins

The case for the defence

The past ten years have been peculiar times for the arts. Under the Labour government pots of money were thrown at culture. But strings came with this funding, requiring art to serve political ends. While there has been cash it has been less for culture and more for schemes promoting social inclusion, community issues and urban renewal. Rather than rebel against these demands the Arts Council has been at the vanguard. As a consequence, artists needing support have had to jump through hoops asking more about their sexual identity than about the art form. This has contributed to high-profile failures, as the purpose of projects became disorientated. These include the

Wednesday

Michael Tanner

Lovelorn masterclass

Werther; The Adventures of Mr Broucek Opera North The Truth about Love Linbury Studio Massenet’s Werther is a tricky opera, in fact may well not be susceptible of more than a production which leaves you feeling that you could easily live with its not very numerous highlights. One of its chief problems is highlighted in Gerald Larner’s incisive notes to the new Opera North production: ‘The problem with a Werther opera is that no libretto, unless it completely traduces Goethe’s original, can compensate for the obvious disadvantage that, because Charlotte is either engaged or married to Albert and is determined to give Werther no encouragement, there can be no mutual

Andrew Lambirth

Living in the moment

Frank Auerbach (born 1931) is flavour of the month. A museum exhibition of his early paintings has opened at the Courtauld (until 17 January 2010), a substantial monograph by William Feaver has just been published (Rizzoli, £100) and a commercial show of recent paintings at Marlborough Fine Art runs until 24 October. Meanwhile, the notoriously retiring and work-obsessed artist has been seen at Private Views and has even granted one or two interviews. Does this mean that Auerbach is relaxing the habits of a lifetime? Not really. He still works seven days and five evenings a week, gets up extremely early and puts in long hours in the same smallish

Olivia Cole

Celebrating extremes

Robert Mapplethorpe: A Season in Hell Alison Jacques Gallery, 16-18 Berners Street, London W1, until 21 November Robert Mapplethorpe’s 1985 self-portrait with little devil’s horns is one of the most instantly recognisable self-portraits in modern photography. Short-haired and cherubically handsome, his face turns back to the camera, an inappropriately appealing daemon, complete with a ‘devil-be-damned’ look in his eye. It’s half full of wit, half haunted by an almost childlike vulnerability. It’s one of three brilliant self-portraits here in this retrospective, A Season in Hell, which takes its title from Mapplethorpe’s photographs of 1986 which he produced for a new translation of Rimbaud’s poem. From 1980 is an image of

Saturday

Henrietta Bredin

Ready for anything

Henrietta Bredin talks to Simon McBurney about his latest challenge: doing Beckett for the first time I am standing in Simon McBurney’s kitchen, discussing pigs (he’s not only kept them but also slaughtered them, butchered them and made over 20 different sorts of salami), memory and language (both capacious and exact in his case), watching him brew coffee (freshly ground, delectably strong), grill toast and spread marmalade (home-made, dark and delicious) and realising that his insatiably curious intellect, his grace and economy of movement are as compelling in a domestic setting as they are on stage. With Complicité, the company he founded in the early 1980s, he has devised, directed

Rod Liddle Rod Liddle

30 years of Viz

I have actually cried with laughter six times in my life. Once, when I was 14, watching the famous “Germans” episode of Fawlty Towers; a few years later at the Ku Klux Klan scene from Blazing Saddles. More recently I shed a shaky tear when the politician Ron Davies explained to police that he’d been “watching badgers” in a copse near the M4, and at around about the same time I saw Brass Eye’s fabulously offensive paedophilia special. Twice, though, I have been reduced to tears by the Geordie “adult” comic Viz. Back in the 1990s, when it produced a mock “limited edition” ceramic giftware called “The Life of Christ

Lloyd Evans Lloyd Evans

Crash, bang, wallop

The Power of Yes Lyttelton My Real War 1914–? Trafalgar Studios Here comes Hare. And he’s got the answer to the credit crunch. His energetic, well-researched and richly informative new work opens with an actor playing the writer himself (curious frown, Hush Puppies) as he sets out to discover why the markets jumped off a ledge last autumn. The result is less a play and more a commission of inquiry. Over many a lingering lunch Hare has leaned his inquisitive ear towards senior bankers, top journalists and leading economists. He then distilled their testimony into this fact-crammed pageant. The City’s major players saunter across the Lyttelton stage, their silk-lined suits

Giannandrea Poesio

Moving pictures

Dance Umbrella Cloud Gate Theatre of Taiwan, Barbican Theatre Cabane P3, University of Westminster Cloud Gate Theatre of Taiwan is not new to the UK dance scene. Yet, as stressed in an inflated, self- celebratory programme note, Wind Shadow marks a neat move away from the performance formulae seen in their previous productions. Created in 2006 by Lin Hwai-Min in collaboration with the visual artist Cai Guo-Qiang — who played a significant role in the opening and closing ceremonies of the 2008 Olympics — the work strives to be an example of ‘moving installation art’. As such, it comes across as a series of moving pictures that both surprise and

Simon Hoggart

Ferocious fauna

Two things puzzle me about vegetarians. Whenever they come to visit us, we always provide a vegetarian dish for them. But if you go to a vegetarian’s home, no one says, ‘I know you won’t like this lentil and halloumi lasagne, so we’ve cooked you steak and chips.’ Never. As for those who don’t eat meat on moral grounds, what’s their response to those animals who eat their comrades in the struggle against oppression? And they don’t mess around with battery farming either. Life (BBC1, Monday) had some of the most powerful images of ferocious fauna that have ever appeared on our screens. Admittedly, the three cheetahs attacking an ostrich

Wednesday

Andrew Lambirth

Mixed message

Turner and the Masters Tate Britain, until 31 January 2010 Professor David Solkin, this exhibition’s curator, opens his introductory chapter in the catalogue (a substantial tome, packed with scholarly exegesis, special exhibition price £19.99 in paperback) in the following way:  The first 15 words of that quote should be emblazoned over the lintel of every art school in the land, though it would mean that the teachers therein would have to be capable of demonstrating its truth; tragically, I’m not convinced that many of them are capable of doing so. Be that as it may, this exhibition sets out to demonstrate Turner’s complex relationship with his artistic predecessors and contemporaries