
The image above is one of my illustrations for TFE's upcoming Poetry Bus magazine. Illustrating poetry is HARD! As in, creating some kind of mutually dynamic relationship which is sympathetic to the text, but not stomping all over same with big visually metaphorical boots. I hope poet and guitarist Dominic Rivron likes this take on his poem After The Rain. The first issue of the Poetry Bus is currently in production - launching soon! This illustration also features in a selection of recent work by IGI Members over at the Scamp blog. Great selection and quality as usual.
Other poetry-related news is that podcasts of most of the readings from this year's dlr Poetry Now festival are now online here, along with my own brief overview of the festival. Well worth a listen. The podcasts, that is. Paul Muldoon's keynote address is well worth checking out.
On a related, yet prosey, tip - the upcoming Mountains to The Sea festival (also in Dun Laoghaire) has just announced a new competition for unpublished writers from the area - details here. Their site also features podcasts of most events from last year's festival, including the keynote address by Paul Auster, speaking about Beckett's influence..
So, while the sun hangs around, why not load up the iPod, crack open a deckchair (and suitable libation) and tickle those cochleae!
Friday, July 02, 2010
audio visual : words, eyes, ears
Posted by
Padhraig Nolan
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1:05 pm
Labels: competitions, dun laoghaire, event, illustration, ireland, journals, online, podcasts, poetry, poetry bus, poetry now, prose, reading, review
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
Pavilion Theatre : The Caretaker

Went along to Pavilion Theatre last night to catch London Classic Theatre's production of The Caretaker, by Harold Pinter. Nicholas Gasson (above) was excellent as the garrulous tramp Davies, and fellow cast members Nicholas Gadd (Mick) and Richard Stemp (Aston) were also top notch in their roles - tightly wound performances all round, restrained and energetic in the right measures. Coupled with a tidily cluttered staging, it made for a real treat of a performance.
I'm currently reading Louis MacNeice's Varieties of Parable. In his introduction, he makes reference to the Theatre of the Absurd - Brecht, Beckett, Pinter & Co. - and this play in particular, saying;
"I could certainly 'identify', as they say, with either of the tramps in Waiting for Godot or, disgusting though he is, with Krapp in Krapp's Last Tape. And in Pinter I could identify with any one of the three characters in The Caretaker."
Funny to think of MacNeice enjoying this play - he seems to belong to such a different, previous world than Pinter. Easy to forget that The Caretaker was first staged in April 1960 - so we're just past the 50th anniversary(!) of this modern classic.
It is indeed possible to identify with all three characters. In fact, by play's end - after all the doubt, chattering, distraction, sprained intentions, tragic echoes and curtailed geographies - there's a distinct feeling that all three are aspects of one individual psyche. Id, Ego and Super-ego perhaps - though which is which could be a whole other conversation.
The Caretaker is at the Pavilion again tonight, before heading to the Old Courthouse Antrim from tomorrow, June 2nd. Highly recommended.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Poetry Ireland Introductions : Round 2
I enjoyed Monday night's Introductions reading so much (some snippets above) I went back again last night!
Glad I did too. It was quite a different vibe, a slightly smaller crowd gathering in the IWC on a somewhat gloomier, more overcast, drizzly evening than the previous night. The sombre weather was kept at bay by the warmth of the chat (and a couple of glasses of wine) making for a more intimate affair. Surrounded by the centre's extensive collection of modern Irish paintings, one veteran reminisced about very different days when the upstairs rooms were populated only by pigeons. Good to chat again with Peter Goulding too, from the previous nights readings.
The first reader was Andrew Jamison, very much a poet of the locale, with themes and images drawn from his home turf of Crossgar (?), Co. Down to the fore. Bus journeys, landmarks, window views and the music of Ash featured, with Jamison making light of his fascinations. I enjoyed this work, poetry of place being a bit of a touchstone for me. The lighthearted reading never undermined a set of skillfully worked ideas, thoughtfully communicated.
Next up was Simon Leland, whose softly spoken meditations were a precise, surreal world away from the previous reader. His work read like a philosophers stone wrapped in an encyclopedeia thrown by an insomniac, exploding in a roomful of mirrors. In a natural history museum. And I mean that as a compliment! Amalgams such as Mata Hari, Good King Wencelas and "Blue herons heading for a mystical painting" made for a hugely vibrant lyrical tapestry.
Niamh McAllister graduated from Cultural Studies in IADT, going on to an MA in Creative Writing at the University of St. Andrews, Scotland (I think Jamison may have studied there too?). She spoke of how living beside the sea had infiltrated her work, one poem in particular, with an epigraph by Auden, saw her meditate on her weakness at decision-making, in the face of the tides. Poems were pared down to the hilt - I'd like to read some of these texts.
The last reader was Connie Roberts, originally from Offaly, now teaching creative writing in the US. Her work was fundamentally informed by her experience of a childhood spent in Irish orphanages. Her poems touched on remembered experiences within those walls, troubled family circumstances, affinities, affections and anger. Noting that physical and sexual abuse within these institutions had been well covered of late, she spoke of the emotional abuse, often less quantified. Referencing the classical Omphalus, she responded to the absence in her life of anything like Heaney's Mossbawn, yet left us on a bright note of alliterative rurality.
So, a very different mix to the previous night, but equally enjoyable.
I'm disappointed that I won't make Thursday's reading, featuring Pauline Hall, David Mohan, Cliona O’Connell, Edward O’Dwyer and Rosie Shepperd. But I'd recommend that you make every effort to attend. Should be a good crowd too - so get there early!
Monday, June 08, 2009
Redemption? Please. As much as you can spare.
Janey Mac, it's a while since I posted here. Not 100% sure exactly why that is? A culmination of various stresses and strains that have seen written output drop off undramatically. Partly seasonal, I guess - in that I tend towards visual work when the year gets brighter - and boy, has it been brighter recently! What was that big blue thing in the sky? Oh, the sky, you say? I see.
So, with our lease running out, I've been looking around for a smaller (cheaper) office - I think we've found a good one. Been painting quite a bit too. Been keeping a tight, slitted, watery eye on finances (emphatically small 'f'). Also, a glut of various familocentric activities - birthdays, communions, covert guerilla actions, yaddah yaddah. Stretched thin - but not in any buff sense - as borne out by the displacement factor upon my annexing of the kids' paddling pool (Archimedes would be shocked).
This whole recession has been encrusting itself on my consciousness too - pricing issues, projection anxiety, accusing spreadsheets - luvverly work if you can get it - the problem is in the getting? And also the remitting? So, shackled by the woes of the western world, I went along to see the stage version of the Shawshank Redemption a couple weeks back. Here's my review for the Evening Herald.
It's a good enough night out - no major surprises - except maybe that there are no major surprises. Peter Crawley reviewed it for the Irish Times and also contributed to The View. His thoughts about it being a potential musical seem quite on the money IMHO - I could see this rocking along nicely in the West End, if the songs were solid. And there's plenty of meat in the writing for some cracking numbers. Perhaps.
Anyways, I'll try and up the ante a little in the next week or so. For one thing, I've a couple of awards from fellow bloggers that I really should acknowledge and pass along. In facta, I'm considering bringing the full power of my sad little virtual dominion to bear in smelting said tributes down to one fused alloy - a killerwatt medallion of accord - then dispensing it throughout the Ethersphere at my whim. What do you think? Hubris Immaculata? Welllllll, we all have to flail sometimes. Ciao :-)
Friday, May 08, 2009
A Miller's Tale : All My Sons at The Gate
It seems fitting that The Gate’s production of All My Sons opened on the evening of d'Emergency Budget. Arthur Miller’s first successful play may be set in post-war America, but his underlying criticisms of capitalist immorality have a resonance here on home turf - profiteering fiscal egotism casts a long shadow, the ultimate cost still unclear.
Over three acts, the secrets coiled around the roots of the Keller household are laid bare within a remarkable set – a skillful evocation of post-war suburban affluence - all back porch, shade tree and picket fences. Neighbours pop in and out – no locked doors here – but as the play unfurls, we soon find that all is not quite idyllic.
Eldest son Larry has been missing in action for three years, his mother Kate still nursing unhealthy delusions of his homecoming. Self-made patriarch Joe and their son Chris realise otherwise – but even they can’t guess the full truth of his disappearance. And what of that court case and those flawed cylinder heads, responsible for the deaths of twentyone young airforce flyers? Slowly and painfully, truths emerge into the fading light of a balmy summer evening. What at first seems a family comfortable within their collective skins, soon reveals a host of faultlines, undermining romantic expectations and apparent neighbourly respect with moral culpability.
Money, money, money. Family. Country. World. All hinge on the results of individual decisions. When lust for the good life, and the profits necessary to maintain it, overwhelm the moral centre of any one individual, the resulting horrors can spring from the ground like so many planted dragons teeth.
A skillful ensemble cast brings us deep into the core of the themes here, with several stand out performances; Garett Lombard, in particular, shines with an immaculately paced performance as the idealistic Chris, conflicted between love, duty and battle-hardened morality. A classy production of a classic drama - well worth a look.
All My Sons run at The Gate Theatre has been extended due to popular demand until 13 June 2009, 8.00pm
nightly. A version of this review originally appeared in the Evening Herald, 8.5.09
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
An inner émigré : Stepping Stones review
My review of Stepping Stones : Interviews with Seamus Heaney is now online over at Todd Swift's wonderful blog, Eyewear. It's a smashing book for dipping into, full of personal insight and recollection, coaxed into daylight by O'Driscoll.
Just got myself a ticket for the special 70th birthday tribute for Heaney, planned for this year's Poetry Now festival - yay! My understanding is that the festival poets will read a favoured Heaney poem, or perhaps something else that they deem appropriate. I'm sure its a fairly open brief - should make for an interesting event. The tribute is scheduled for Saturday 28th March, though the poet's birthday is a little later, in April.
Interesting, or at least coincidental, to note that he was born in the same year WB Yeats. Yeats died on 28th January 1939 - Heaney was born a few months later on 13th April. No occultist conspiracy theories please!
I'd guess Heaney is in for a fair few celebrations this year to mark the beginning of his seventh decade. I believe RTE has even pushed the boat out and - gasp - commissioned a symphony!
Friday, February 27, 2009
Irish Theatre Awards : Making a Mark
Sunday night saw Ireland's luvvies flock to The Burlo for the presentation of this year's Irish Times Theatre Awards. Seems to have been a swell occasion, with a special tribute award for Lynne Parker, artistic director of Rough Magic Theatre Company.
The Best Actress award was presented to Deirbhle Crotty, for her role as Masha in the Friel version of Chekhov's Three Sisters. You can read my review of that production here. I've seen Crotty a few times now, and she's (ahem) a class act. Depending on the material, she can bring an old-school showbiz sass to bear, while mining the emotional centre of her character. And she entertains; a great, expressive dry humour to her - even in darker outposts (think Rosaleen Linehan channeling Dorothy Parker). Crotty is currently appearing in Marble at the Abbey (see below). So, git yerself along to that lovely venue and catch the award-winner herself in full effect.
Best Actor went to Tom Vaughan Lawler, for his remarkable turn in The Resistable Rise of Arturo Ui, also at the Abbey. You can read my thoughts on that absolutely rivetting performance here.
Now, here's a little bit of trivia for you. You see that nice logo up there - emoting actor centre stage, elated shadow on the backdrop? Guess who designed that particular item, over twelve (if not more!) years ago? Yes, I'm happy to reveal that it was me! Not long after I'd plunged into my career as freelance graphic designer, I was briefed by (now-defunct?) marketing agency Dimension to create a 'figurative logo' for a newly planned theatre awards ceremony. It needed to be figurative so that a statuette could be developed. I did concept visuals for those too - but the final stauette design went a different way. At that time, the awards were to be sponsored by both The Irish Times and the ESB - meaning my beautifully conceived concept ended up with both those logos plonked on it - as well as a durrty great keyline box all round. Thankfully, a single sponsor now means some of the cleanliness has returned to the identity.
Having designed it on classic principles, with a long life in mind, I've enjoyed seeing the thing become a bit of an icon down the years. I hope it continues on as such - yet realise that one of these days it may well end up sacrificed, for a 'trendy' upgrade.
The illustration itself was created in brush and ink, then treated to a rigorous bout of 'moving-it-about-on-the-photocopier' - an earlier form of 'digital manipulation' - to create that pulled, distressed effect. I made oodles of these distorted copies, then cut and pasted the best bits back into a cohesive whole, scanning it into my trusty Power Mac 7500 for clean-up. Looking back now, I can see how influenced I was by the sculpture of Edward Delaney - particularly his famine piece in Stephen's Green.
The typography is a tweaked version of capitalis monumentalis letterforms, or Roman square capitals, as used for the inscription at the base of Trajan's Column from which the typeface - Trajan - takes its name.
Anyway, congratulation to all the winners - full list here - and best of luck to those who weren't successful this time. Hopefully, twelve months from now you'll be standing up there, along with my design work.
Marble, a new play by Marina Carr, is currently having its World Premiere run at the Abbey Theatre. I went along last week to review it for the Evening Herald’s HQ magazine. You can read that review here. The themes, and the play itself, were running through my mind for quite a while after my tight deadline with the Herald. The result is a slightly more indulgent take on the play and its themes, which is now over here on Poetry Ireland's guest blog. Happy weekend all!
Posted by
Padhraig Nolan
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4:34 pm
Labels: article, evening herald, irish, poetry ireland, review, theatre
Saturday, January 24, 2009
It's a Sunny Dublin Saturday!
So, did anybody manage to nab any art for themselves yesterday - seeing as it was Free Art Friday? I didn't find any myself - but I believe there was plenty about town. I didn't contribute, I'm afraid - next year, perhaps.
If you didn't manage to pick up an original Sean Hillen or Will St. Leger, no worries - you can always pop into the National Gallery to see the Turner watercolours. Or just enjoy another of my paintings, entitled, Bolg, above. It's not a haggis.
A Beautiful sunny (but cold) day in Dublin City today. I'm off down the country shortly - a flying visit to the southeast. Speaking of which, fellow Scalder Peter Murphy has a new book out. John the Revelator has already garnered enthusiastic praise from the likes of Colm Toibin ad Roddy Doyle, no less! He's interviewed in the Irish Times today.
For those staying in the City - there's a couple of attractive propositions once the sun has gone down;
The Shoestring Collective has their first event of 2009 tonight. As usual, the line-up is eclectic, feauring songs, comedy, piping and reading from Jinx Lennon, Enda Muldoon, Éanna Ó Muire and Colm Liddy respectively - and more! Details Here.
Also, tonight is your last chance to catch Classic Stage Ireland's production of Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale at the Project Arts Centre. Its a treat of a production - lots of energy and commitment from a predominently young cast, peppered with a few more mature contributions. Well worth a look. My review can be read here and - if you don't trust my perspective - Gerry Colgan reviews it for the Irish Times here.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Meh-rry Crassmush! That's not me in the photo, but it sort of catches my mood of the moment. It's actually actor Patrick O'Donnell, demonstrating elvish ennui in The Santaland Diaries, based on David Sedaris' essay of the same name - playing every lunchtime at Bewley's Cafe Theatre until December 20th. If, like me, you find yourself underwhelmed by the meteorological, socioeconomic and psychological chills of this year's particularly fraught festive season, then Get Thee To A Clattery on Grafton Street for an hour of soup, sass and cynicism at all things sacharine. (i.e., it's a good laugh in a grim climate! My review is here. Gesundheit!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Gawd - sorry about that dingy headline - couldn't resist. :->
Went along to review The Resistable Rise of Arturo Ui at the Abbey Theatre for the Evening Herald last week. Review is online now over here. Its a great production, directed by Jimmy Fay and well worth a look. Curious how many of the issues that seep through the play bear relevance in today's troubled times. Of course its only our own recent insecurities that bring the focus of the developed world to bear on nastier aspects of economic politics. Outside of our whitebread enclave, the fallout from economic monsterism is a daily burden. The old 'virus-in-shoes' effect at play again. Anyway, get thee to the Abbey for some brainfood and you'll be treated to a virtuoso performance by Tom Vaughan Lawlor in the title role - shading Hitler, Mussolini, Richard III, Chaplin, Marx (Groucho, not Karl) into a remarkable, athletic meld. Sounds funny - and it is - in part. But things can dark very, very quickly.
I've seen TVL once before, playing Solyony in Brian Friels's version of Three Sisters, also at the Abbey. His performance then, as the histrionic army officer guest, was also a tumbling, skidding physical treat. There's a short interview with the actor over on Trinity News about his career to date and the challenge of playing Arturo Ui.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
if it's Tuesday, this must be the Internet?
Harsh Expletive! It’s been a Hell of a few weeks. Good Hell mostly, I guess. But some suspicously tart, gritty bits that may have been Bad Hell mixed in there too. Hence lack of posts. Hello. Good to be back!
Highlight of my absence was a trip to London with herself and the eldest offspring. Taking in Rothko, Meireles (soooo good!), Frieze Art Fair, Bacon and the Turner Prize exhibits was an uncommon treat, as we spend most of our days rooted (routed?) to the various local grooves of work, school, family in this here parish of the auld sod. No Celtic Tiger pondhoppers we. Bizarrely, we’ve travelled more since the poor creature started sneezing and looking decidedly dizzy than at any time while the nation soared on the hot air of its carnivore breath. Good! I like a slice of contrary every now and then. Here’s a toast to all the financial guano that’s been sprayed fanwards over the last while – may it nourish the roots of a whole new perspective. As if! But we can live in hope, can’t we? Yes we can.
A few things then, just to catch up;
Boyne Berries 4 was launched in Trim, Co Meath recently. A fine selection of work includes one of my own poems, Evening Recital. Personal favourites include Accident, by Mary Rose Callan, Bayardelle, Scent of the Faculty, by Landa Wo, and Good Friday Planting by Shirley McClure (which you can read here).
Brian Friel's version of Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler, continues its run at The Gate. Check out my review (of sorts) over at the Evening Herald’s HQ magazine.
Also, the second annual Poem-a-Day challenge is in full swing over on the forum at Poetry Ireland’s website throughout November. Why not pop over and join the outpouring of poesy? Last year, the challenge of writing and posting a poem every 24 hours did wonders for beating the crap out of my inner censor/slash/editor, who has since moved to Alaska in search of a new client, who needs the ermmm....restraint..
Finally, it’s wintertime (or daylight savings time, depending where you’re reading this). That came quickly! So here’s a poem to mark the glooming;
Equilibrium
Grey days are here again
I dress in the half-light
Discovering at lunch
That I’m wearing odd socks
Still, the day’s half gone
And no harm done
I’ll relish each further step
Secretly out of kilter
© PJ Nolan 2008
Posted by
Padhraig Nolan
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12:27 pm
Labels: criticism, gallery, irish, journals, my poems, new release, news, poetry, poetry ireland, publishing, review, theatre, UK, visual art
Thursday, October 09, 2008
As mentioned previously - I went along to review theatre O's production of Enda Walsh's Delerium at the Peacock Theatre last week, for those nice people at the Evening Herald HQ magazine. The review is now online and can be read here. The play runs until October 25th and I thought it was great craic! So do get along if you have a chance.
Also, if you fancy adding your voice to the critical mass, Irish Theatre magazine are running a Critic's Forum tomorrow (Oct 10th) at Project Arts Centre. A panel of critics, moderated by poet, playwright and presenter of RTE's Arts Show Vincent Woods, will be discussing some of the major productions from this year's Dublin Theatre Festival. Contributions from the floor will be welcome too. Kick-off is 4pm.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Black Watch - Scotland, the rave
Well, the Heavily Sponsored Dublin Theatre Festival is in full swing. We went along to the RDS last night for National Theatre of Scotland’s Black Watch. This is a heavily hyped production, widely acclaimed since first performed at the Edinburgh Fringe back in 2006. We were lucky - it seems the previous night’s performance was cancelled due to structural concerns about the specially erected banked seating. Didn’t know that until today.
The play draws directly on the experiences of soldiers from the Black Watch regiment tours in Iraq, specifically their controversial redeployment to more dangerous combat zones, in order to relieve US troops. Further themes are the war’s questionable legitimacy and the amalgamation of the Black Watch with five other Scottish regiments, in the context of the regimental history (referred to as The Golden Thread).
There’s no doubt this is a highly impressive production, with critical accolades a-plenty. Performances are consistently strong and there are a number of highly inventive set pieces in the staging, incorporating a pool table, projections, strobe lighting, bagpipes, TV screens, military drill and exceptional choreography. The blurb claims universal critical praise, but I overheard a few doubters as the audience filed out. I may have been one myself.
There seems to be a lack of clarity in the aims of the piece. Are we getting the soldiers story? If so, why is so much obscured? We see the squaddies serving together, chilling out in the pub, interviewed by a writer - yet they remain two dimensional. OK, we have the sarge, the cheeky one, the ladies man, the toffee-nosed officer, the new boys – all sound familiar? Obviously these tropes don’t arrive out of thin air – but they’re not particularly unique to the Black Watch either. I remember similar character sketches in Spike Milligan’s war memoirs. At no point do we get a sincere sense of any personality bar the cliché.
Now, I know this is drama and concessions must be made – but I left feeling that the ‘BigBangBoom’ factor, while providing a raucous evening’s entertainment, actually served to obscure what truths might be mined here. A bit like Riverdance being presented as an insight to Irish sectarianism? Ok, maybe that’s a bit harsh. But there was a definite emphasis on spectacle, and I felt the pacing at times seemed more suited to TV than theatre. This, coupled with martial piping and some superfluous drilling near the end, seemed to drag into mawkishness. The dangerous glamour of fatigues and guns is embraced, so that the military tattoo references seemed overplayed – tilting the balance towards gung ho, and away from the human aspects of the story.
On the plus side, there’s excellent exposition of the regimental history, in one of those inspired set pieces, involving the evolution of the distinctive uniform. There are few punches pulled where the legality of the invasion is concerned. There’s excellent use of symbolic language throughout; ‘bullying’, ‘porn’ and ‘petrol’ recur. I also learned what ‘toby-tag’ is (although I’m not sure I really needed to).
Anyway, bang-for-buck-wise, I shouldn’t be complaining. One hour and fifty minutes, (without an interval) passed with little discomfort or boredom. The audience mostly loved it and who says good art needs to hit all the buttons anyway?
Funnily enough, I found myself thinking of Tropic Thunder and wondering which of these two productions was the more disturbing. Ben Stiller’s movie – glibly playing war for laughs (and hilarious in parts) had me seething at times for a society in the grip of ‘the biggest Western Foreign policy mistake ever’ (to quote one of the Black Watch characters) packing out cineplexes for their explosive fix. Here, where the wounds are exposed with more intentional gravitas, I wondered why I wasn’t more moved.
(BTW we also went to Delerium, Enda Walsh's collaboration with theatre O at the Peacock, the previous night. The Evening Herald has first dibs on that review - I'll link to it when it's published. Suffice to say it's well worth a look!)
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Tropic Thunder Preview Screening
Stiller Inc. - back with a bang!!!
I went along to an advance screening of Tropic Thunder last night - thanks again to those enlightened, generous people at the wonderful Movies.ie - and had some of the best belly laughs of recent times. Anybody who’s familiar with the Stiller package will have a good idea what to expect and judging by the enthusiastic (and somewhat blokey) audience profile, there’s a whole posse well hungry for this particular brand.
I won’t get into spoiler territory, but I think this one will have you you spitting popcorn out your nose on at least a couple of occasions, whether you’re a fan or not. It may not be quite the ‘Nam Zoolander’ that it has been touted as, but it’s damn near! While it looks like it was a lot of fun to make, its worth remembering that this is the movie Owen Wilson had to skip due to his hospitalisation - so maybe not quite so light a mood on set after all.
The plot sees a bunch of preening hollywood types bogged down, way behind schedule and over budget, in an expensive jungle shoot for a ‘nam memoir’ movie. In a desperate attempt to redeem himself and motivate his charges, the inexperienced brit director (a manic Steve Coogan) attempts to go ‘off the grid’, shooting guerilla stylee in the interior – with disasterous results. Trouble is, the actors are so self-immersed, it takes a while for the facts to catch up it with them in the form of some pretty real adversaries. Along the way, cliches are mined, dialogue is peppered and (of bloody course) truths are dispensed. With explosions, heroin and dentures.
As in the very, very funny ‘trailers’, Robert Downey Jr. is the best thing here. Much has been made of his character (think Russell Crowe meets Brad) going deep blackface, and much of the ‘plot’ hangs on (Stiller’s character) Tugg Speedman’s previous performance ‘going full retard’ – so there’s lots of pointy excrement-smeared sticks to poke any political correctness the audience might smuggle in. Jack Black is the most wonderfully-named ‘Jeff Portnoy’. Love it!
Along the way there’s great cameos, set-pieces, homage/pastiches and great, great oneliners. So all good then? Yeeeeeeeeeayyyyy-ish.
I was bugged by that increasingly common feeling that this really could have been an out-and-out classic. Given the premise and the cast, there was so much further these guys could have been taken. Downey Jr. is outstanding, Stiller does his ‘bambi with a brain of cheese’ bit again and Black goes through the motions – although he does get a couple of the great gags. Drop in Nick Nolte doing the ‘generic vet number 1’ gig, Matthew McConaughey doing Owen Wilson and a baldy Tom Cruise donning prosthetic hamhands to do the production’s ‘bigdick playa’ and you get much sending up of the hollywood machine. Problem is, Stiller Inc. now ARE the Hollywood machine. I was left with a distinct feeling that some of the best gags mightn’t have surved the ‘notes’ process, ending up on the floor. (Although some seem to have made it into the ‘making-of-making-of….’ documentary on youtube).
Unfortunately, scientologists don’t do humour – this one at least. Cruise’s wigga tyrant is initially a genuine treat, but overexposure turns him into the guy with the lampshade on his head at this particular party. A muddled third act, the ‘warm’ ending (complete with cutaway to clarify that ‘no kiddies were flung in the making of this movie) just seem to cop out from what could have been downright nasty fun.
But maybe I’m just picky. It’s still a whole bunch o’laffs – so check it, playa!
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
The Therapeutic Community (Cuckoo!)
Washington DC company Keegan Theatre are back in Ireland for their annual tour of the country. This year they bring their production of One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest to Galway, Kilkenny, Roscommon, Longford and Thurles. I was at the Pavilion Theatre, Dun Laoghaire last night to catch the tour kick-off.
Keegan specialise in staging Irish theatre in the US and I've been lucky enough to see them reciprocate with shows like Death of A Salesman, A Streetcar Named Desire and Glengarry Glen Ross on several of their previous visits to Ireland. It's always a treat to experience these American classics voiced by an American troupe. Staging is usually restrained, but the performances make up for this by embracing the characters and flinging them around the text with gusto. There's nothing particularly avante garde going on here - just solid, professional interpretations of classic texts, treated with respect and enthusiasm - just what the doctor ordered!
With a cast of fourteen, this is one of the larger productions to date. Possibly because of this, it felt a little slow to get going. Like many of the Keegan shows, audiences here may be more familiar with this play's cinematic incarnation (and that delerious Jack Nicholson performance is hard to forget!). However, the play was written in 1963 by Dale Wasserman, adapted from Ken Kesey's bestselling 1962 novel - and it retains the novel's narration by Chief Bromden, which the movie dispensed with. A lot depends on the shimmering intensity and pathos of that character on stage. Here, Kevin Adams gives a rumbling, resonant performance as the visionary (fake) catatonic – but the required gravitas was elusive to start with.
However, once Keegan stalwarth Mark A. Rhea scraps his way onstage, things kick off with aplomb. Rhea has taken centre stage on recent tours and his McMurphy is a wiley thug with a heart of, if not gold, at least solid brass. Sheri S. Herren is Nurse Ratchet with a restrained performance that gradually blooms into glacial cruelty.
The ensemble playing might fluctuate, but the central performances anchor the core of this countercultural polemic. Kesey’s writing is sometimes swamped by the appeal of his Merry Prankster persona and it’s a welcome reminder of his ability to see these characters fleshed out here. (I’m sure Wasserman played his part too – as does the show’s director Susan M Rhea).
Nowadays, we’re dangerously close to apathy about the issues Kesey was addressing; the power of the ‘Combine’, alienation, selling nobility down the river, abuse of power, the nature of insanity - they all get an airing in this work – and can still trigger modern relevances as well as wistful retrospection. I was reminded of Hunter S Thompson’s comment about California's Summer of Love;
"We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark -- the place where the wave finally broke and rolled back."
Less appealing, and yet very interesting, is the somewhat misogynistic subtext of the work. Almost all the female characters - on or offstage - with the exception of “Candy & Sandy” (the light, lewd relief) and one repressed, Catholic nurse are harridans of the highest order. ‘Ratshit’ herself, Patient Harding’s coquette wife, The Chief’s white mother, and Billy Bibbit’s tragically controlling mother are all apportioned their share of blame for the emasculation of the noble urges of the (male) individual... whereas, Doctor Spivey, and even the bullying ward orderlies, are reprieved by a backslapping camaraderie and fondness for the odd toke, or whatever. This theme had previously bypassed me somewhat, and it’s a strength of the work that the often overlooked patriarchal baggage of the 'counterculture' is overt here.
These aspects, coupled with the central theme of the Chief’s physical loss of aboriginal nobility - via his father’s malleability and weakness - brought the shadow of Hemingway looming over proceedings for this punter. There’s no doubt that Hemingway was an influence on Kesey (along with Burroughs, Steinbeck and Faulkner) - but whether this patriarchal inheritance is consciously written, I can’t say.
Keegan Theatre are touring Ireland until October 4th – full schedule here - and I’d guess this production will get better and better as it tours!
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Some interesting browses of recent days;
Over on the Guardian Arts blog, Billy Mills welcomed the arrival of Lughnasa in particular and Autumn in general with a call for posts of Autumn poems - which quickly led to the usual syndrome of blog commentators picking a tangent and engaging in hostilities thereon. This time its about obscenity or violence of language and imagery in Art, no less. Some tasty poems scattered in there though - and the thread is still growing!
***
Expat Hungarian poet & translator George Szirtes' blog is consistently thought-provoking, always worth a visit and a couple of recent posts, springing from his recent trip to his birthplace, Budapest, stood out. But there's no shortage of great stuff here, from his trademark dry humour to more sombre commentary. Just excellent!
***
Meanwhile, over on Polyolbion, Matt Merritt has a good review of Happenstance stablemate James W Wood's recent collection, Inextinguishable. It's a cracking collection, which I hope to review here myself soon. One distinguishing feature is the fact that it's illustrated - students of Edinburgh College of Art interpreted his work, to mixed effect. This is an area that interests me - but it's rare to see a really successful collaboration of this kind. In that regard, I feel this book isn't quite there. However, the poems themselves are fine! Some of the artwork is fine too, but together - I'm not so sure?
***
Finally, over at the Irish Times, I see Aidan Dunne had also previously reviewed the I Can / Can I ? exhibition which features on the post below. He's a bit more emphatic in his take, where I found myself a little less moved - more bemused really. To be fair, I think that's part of this particular exhibit's intention. Anyhoo, who cares what the feckin' critics think - get in there yourself!
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
I Can / Can I?
on painting and potentiality
The current exhibition at Temple Bar Galleries sees three artists explore their relationship with painting. Sonia Shiel and Michael Coleman from Ireland and Hanneline Visnes, a Norwegian artist based in Scotland, ask questions of the medium that move from formal interrogation to downright cheeky.
Each artist examines their work in the context of Potentiality – a concept originally framed by Aristotle – which concerns itself with the potency of possibilities – ‘What if?’, ‘Where does this lead?’ and ‘Why / Why not?’. The exhibition is not an answer to these questions, but a process of investigating what it means to be a painter working in visual arts practice in 2008.
Coleman shows a calm, fixed installation of related canvases in juicy hues – a restrained progression from his body of compulsive, stylised painting. Visnes shows the most ‘traditional’ work here. A surreal motif involving raptors and jewellery is riffed out at various sizes, on unprimed MDF or paper, with an emphasis on controlled rendering. One larger piece is a very satisfactory resolution of deftly brushed filigree.
Shiel appears to have grasped the bull by the horns and wrestled it into a kind of submission. One of Ireland’s finest young painters (winning the Hennessy Craig award in 2004), she has long exhibited technical fluency. Recent years have seen her practice absorb increasingly experimental contexts. This is certainly true of her work here, to the point where paint is subverted, as in the case of Sal-on (shown above). As well as incorporating small canvases, paint also skins this assemblage, creating an almost theatrical construct.
There is risk here, in subverting the reverence which conventionally applies to gallery paintings. But this show is about risk – and questions. The biggest one of all? Are these the right questions?
I Can / Can I?
on painting and potentiality,
continues at Temple Bar Galleries until 20th September
This review originally appeared in the August 28th issue of Evening Herald HQ Magazine.
Posted by
Padhraig Nolan
at
2:00 pm
Labels: article, criticism, evening herald, gallery, irish, review, visual art
Friday, August 29, 2008
Summer Reading : Mars, a text!
Patrick Chapman's latest collection of poetry displays the characteristics which have earned him praise and recognition as one of the more interesting voices of his generation of Irish poets.
The poems in this volume - ranging as they do over broad periods of time and experience – can sometimes appear to be ‘quare bedfellows’. However, this is far from negative - if anything it emphasises the diversity and range of thought and expression in Chapman's poetry. Heated relationships, cold wars, inner and outer space all combine here to provide a backdrop for stories of the heart, mind and body in a collection that exhibits distinctly cinematic qualities. There's a touch of the Noir here - not unrelenting darkness - more highlighted angles and delineations of a gamut of memorable characters. We meet a Queen of her own private Gethsemane, a vampire-priest-ringmaster, as well as certain politicians and ‘vast and cool intelligences' opening church and shopping malls in virgin territories. Musicians and other cultural icons create a sinewy linkage between the poet and his environment.
Throughout, there's a healthy dose of surreal humour. However, one of the strengths of this collection is Chapman's ability to present humour without resorting to glibness. Here it is part of the full tableaux of human experience, woven into love, fear, bewilderment and hope. There's a fair deal of sex too.
Overall the writing is underpinned with a deceptively casual sense of craft (this is Chapman's fourth collection, following on from a recent book of stories. He's also written films and audio plays). Towards the end, the collection heads into (literally) darker waters. Immersion recurs as a theme along with various extinctions, such as the young fisherman in the poem What You Leave Behind, lost at sea while providing for his his family;
“In dying he has lumbered them with boat-wreck
And some lately settled fear an tí –
Squatting in the drowned man’s chair.”
At first, this collection charms with its immediate vibrancy - then merits re-reading to tap into some of the deeper currents at work below the surface of this skillful, considered writing.
More info here.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
The good people at the Evening Herald's HQ magazine (Hi Sue!) asked me to review Meridien Theatre Company's production 'Raccoon' which is currently running at Bewleys Café Theatre, during lunchtimes, until August 23rd. You can read that review here
This really is a very good show, so if you're in the Grafton Street area for lunch before the run ends, I'd recommend it highly. The writer is an American named Tom Hall and, based on this play, I'd think his short stories (I'm guessing he's written a few) should be well worth a read. That's if anybody knows where I might find them / him? According to the bumph, he's lived in Mexico, Cork & Wexford but is now based in Dublin. 'Raccoon' also features in a double bill 'The Lost Field' from Meridien - which will be touring nationwide this November - so keep your eyes peeled.
Meridien are a lively and innovative company, with some interesting work in their archive. Their forthcoming production is 'There Are Little Kingdoms' - a play based on the short story collection of the same name by Kevin Barry. Barry was a worthy winner of the 2007 Rooney Prize for this cracking collection of tales from small-town Ireland - one of the best debut collections of recent years. The author himself is adapting the work for stage, so make a note folks, this should be a pretty hot ticket, IMHO.







