Words for the curious (nosy) who were always told it's rude to stare. Looking at people, theatre, performance, music, film, literature and cultural stuff.
Showing posts with label Culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Culture. Show all posts
Friday, 3 October 2014
Thursday, 13 February 2014
Friday, 13 September 2013
Why are we so embarrassed about talking about art?
We are sat in a circle in the beautifully cavernous Brighton Dome corn exchange, the survivors of a long day of talking, listening and exchanging. We were there for Devoted and Disgruntled, Improbable Theatre's established Open Space conference, to ask and answer the question 'What are we going to do about theatre?'
Friday, 23 August 2013
A Doll's House - Duke of York Theatre, London (Young Vic Theatre Production)
This morning, I was sent a link to a razor sharp blog post by Australian broadcaster, Helen Razer entitled 'We do not make change by asking for praise about our twats, mams or makeup-free faces'. Within it she complains about feminism's change in direction, or as she calls it feminism's 'mutant daughter'.
Monday, 8 April 2013
Finding your passion.
I just spent a week away, intending to do not much more than walk until my buttocks started screaming, then drink some Malbec whilst slow cooking some local meat on an AGA . I did that and whilst doing that I also managed to find some time (I know - How does she do it?) to read two books I loaned from the library and in the battle of the Kens - Sir Ken Robinson vs Non Sequitur Ken Tynan there was a clear winner.
Sunday, 31 March 2013
To Beyonce or not to Beyonce
There were many beautiful moments shared in Beyonce's directorial debut, about her favourite subject; Beyonce. My least favourite of these being her make up free confessional, in which she told us the only way to free herself from her low mood was to go fire herself up by listening to one of her songs about making love to her husband whilst performing said act.
Tuesday, 12 March 2013
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
The fine line between the outside and the inside.
Last week I went to Paris and fully intended to come back full to the brim of classical French existential pondering. However, the direction of my thoughts went elsewhere. I went to Paris and stood on the corner of the St Germain, waiting for a flummoxed Parisien to take me to the finest French Restaurant he knew, he knew none but suggested 'I do know a really great Japanese place nearby?' I discovered the hot new cafes in Paris were English run, I ended up going to the talking point gig in town which was Icelandic and the most popular exhibition which was American.
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