Talking with Skin from Skunk Anansie was everything I hoped it would be. Being familiar with their music, I expected anger and emotion in equal measure – as they explore in their music all facets of human energy and experience that exist in our daily lives – and I was NOT disappointed. Skin is as high-octane in conversation as the band is on stage. She is as inspirational as her aggressively beautiful persona and always open and brutally honest. Whether talking about her personal life or the financial crisis, she had plenty of opinions to hit me with, and I never tired of listening. Ultimately my fifteen minute ‘chat’ with Skin left me ready to take on the world as Skunk Anansie’s musical legacy continues to inspire people to do.

Here I ask her about their current album ‘Black Traffic’ and their forthcoming tour:

You released Black Traffic just last September and have received a lot of praise from your fans about it. Are you pleased with the response you’ve received?
Yeah, everyone’s been really lovely, apart from one review in the NME! [Pete Cashmore of NME rated the album 1/10 with the summary “The people who made this album have an average age of 46. They need to retire. NOW.” A bollocks and completely uninsightful review]  It’s been really good because we really tried something quite different in the way we recorded it. Every other album we’ve done has been like, you walk into a studio press play and 1.2.3. Go! It’s always been about trying to capture that sparkling take.

We dissected everything, tore it to pieces, and basically, launched ourselves right off the cliff and hoped we weren’t going to land on our arses and break our spines

But at this level in our game, we do that every night live. We felt we’re not little kids anymore, we don’t have to have a sporadic thing that sometimes we can capture in the studio and sometimes we can’t. So basically did some rough takes, then we dissected everything, tore it to pieces, and basically, launched ourselves right off the cliff and hoped we weren’t going to land on our arses and break our spines and ultimately it all came through. It gave us a real opportunity to dissect the music, analyse it and experiment and just have fun recording.

We love recording but it’s always a hard thing to do. I like being in the studio but it’s always been a pain in the arse and this time it was really different and we all really enjoyed it. In the end we ended up with a big fat rock album, which is what everyone loves and what we love and what we do well. But it has a modern context. We’re not just a bunch of old school rockers doing the same old same old. We try to bring new elements into it.

So overall that gamble paid off?
Yeah yeah, I mean it was a real gamble; we’ve not done it like this before and studio time is expensive. But ultimately sometimes, to quote Young Guns, “What’s the point in glory without the pain”.

To quote Young Guns, “What’s the point in glory without the pain”.

I can imagine people expecting a band who are successful for something to keep on making the same thing again and again, so to take that plunge and do something different that pays off must be satisfying?
Yes exactly, I mean we really felt at this stage in our careers, there’s no point trying to do things for press and radio. I mean the radio in England is not going to play us. There’s no point in focusing on radio and press friendly concepts. You know English radio just doesn’t play rock. Muse will just about get on there and they’re softer and more electronic and even they felt they had to go in a different direction to get the plays.

The trouble is when you start to follow what you think people want you to be you can really trip up because you stop being the essence of yourself. That’s the thing we did with this album. We just though fuck everybody, fuck it all, we’re going to do what we like, and our friends are going to follow it because they’re the same as us. That’s the way we’ve always done it and it really works. The fans love the album they come to see us live and we have rave, rave, rave reviews apart from that NME review!

The  point of that review was that we’re too old to be in a rock band!!! You know, they’ve hated Skunk Anansie from like the minute we sold 100,000 records. And because this is a good album, they don’t want to admit it’s a good album so they literally had to scratch around and try to find a way to slag us off instead of being honest and saying, “You know I’ve never liked this band but this is a really good album”.  A good journalist would have done that. But they landed on our age as the only thing they could slag off about us.

The fans love the album they come to see us live and we have rave, rave, rave reviews apart from that NME review!

You know Life doesn’t end at 40. If you love to do something, say you want to be a writer for the rest of your life, what’s to stop you doing that as long as you’re good and as long as you put out stuff that people want to read. It should be the same in any profession. You know if you’re a dancer, keep dancing until your body says no. If you’re a good dancer, then dance.

Ultimately it was very ageist. If you were to apply that level of ageism to racism or homophobia everybody would have gone crazy. If you don’t like the band and you don’t like the album and all you can say is that we’re old then just don’t fucking review us. I mean everybody gets old, but this is a fucking good album!

 If you don’t like the band and you don’t like the album and all you can say is that we’re old then just don’t fucking review us. I mean everybody gets old, but this is a fucking good album!

In Black Traffic, you are just as comfortable talking about your distrust in the government and the financial crisis as you about your personal life; your aspirations and disappointments. Is it important for you to cover such a broad range of themes?
The thing is we really do write a massive range of different types of songs, you know? We always write more than we use. For this album we wrote about 55 songs over the space of about a year, a year and a half and in lots of different places; some in America, some in Europe. So we really were a part of it. On tour we really saw the difference with regards to economics and racism and homophobia and the mortgage scandal and occupy movements. All these things are going on around us and are right in our faces. In Portugal, for example, which used to be one of our biggest markets, you only have to sell 200 records to get a number one now. They’ve just got no money so nobody buys music.

I think that’s why the topics are so broad because you see lots of different things. For a while we might write political songs because we’re so angry about what’s going on. Then something will happen to us and we’ll write a more personal song. So, you know, you take the best pick of those songs over the space of a year and you’re going to get a broad range.

On tour we really saw the difference with regards to economics and racism and homophobia and the mortgage scandal and occupy movements. All these things are going on around us and are right in our faces.

For us it’s like we always go for the best songs. On ‘Wanderlust’ the best songs were more emotional and more personal. There were a couple of political songs but they weren’t that obvious. So in that sense the songs kind of come from so many different parts of ourselves. The challenge is to pick the songs for the right reasons and in the right way.

Really, separating external and internal subjects is unrealistic. Nine times out of ten you can spend your day wound up because of the things going on and that can have a knock on effectReally these things are all part of daily life for everybody anyway aren’t they?
Yeah, I think we have a personal perspective on stuff that’s happening right in front of our faces and to our friends. This is not a game, for instance a friend of mine was knocked of her bicycle in America where insurance is really, really expensive. She couldn’t pay her mortgage for two months and was in hospital recovering. All the time the mortgage company were doing everything they could to get that house of her. It was like they have a thing that says: Anyone gets behind by a month and we want that house”. It was really sick. They were doing all these tricks – sending her the wrong forms, making her miss certain dates – just to make things difficult.

She nearly lost the house. She had to get a lawyer to help her, to sift through things because they had made it so difficult. In the end she came up with a plan to keep the house and we all helped her with it and it’s all good, but you know these guys! They sit there at their computer with a big fat line of cocaine, drunk as anything, playing on the stock market, it’s all greed, greed, greed, like it’s a PlayStation game. But this is people’s lives! For normal people their house is like their honey pot. You know, that’s the type of thing a song will come out of.

They sit there at their computer with a big fat line of cocaine, drunk as anything, playing on the stock market, it’s all greed, greed, greed, like it’s a PlayStation game. But this is people’s lives!!!

The album is called Black Traffic; can you explain what that is?
Black traffic sums up what a lot of the songs tended to be about. You know this dark underbelly trafficking that seems to really be running things. There are so many examples of it; again the mortgage scandal, the HSBC scandal. I mean oh my god HSBC have just been fined hundreds of millions of pounds – the highest fine in history – for drugs trafficking with our money. I mean I’m a HSBC customer! But nobody goes to jail; they just lose a bit of money that doesn’t affect them because it doesn’t come out of their pockets. Nobody goes to jail and nobody is held responsible for it. I mean that is dark isn’t it.

I mean oh my god HSBC have just been fined hundreds of millions of pounds – the highest fine in history – for drugs trafficking with our money… Nobody goes to jail and nobody is held responsible for it. I mean that is dark isn’t it.

And so much of that stuff goes on. You know someone in that bank had to have confirmed those transactions. It had to be the managing director. Why wasn’t he sacked and put into jail. He’s responsible for letting drug traffickers launder billions and billions of pounds worth of money. But the bank just gets a fine. It’s such a fucking con. And that’s what I mean by ‘Black Traffic’.

You know you’re living your life, you’re paying your mortgage, like I was paying my mortgage that was twice as expensive as it should have been because people are hiking up the mortgage rates. All this stuff is happening underneath your feet. It’s absolutely insane. Like people who live in London can’t afford to live in London anymore. Greedy landlords hike up the rent because they know people are desperate to live there. Rents have gone up so all the Londoners are getting squeezed out of London. I’m born and bread in London I can’t fucking live in London. It’s just really expensive.

When it comes to your tour, you’re just as well known and loved for your high-octane tracks as you are for your slow emotive ballads. How do you find it performing songs with such completely different energies and tempos?
I think that’s one of the things we’ve always been able to do. We’ve always been able to switch our energies. We’ve never been a band that’s done an album that’s full force song after song; twelve songs the same. We’ve always been a band that’s experimented and tried to have different energies and different things going on.

I think when it comes to a concert it’s really important to have light and shade. It’s important to have down time and down moments and not just full-on craziness. That’s something that we’ve always managed to be able to do. It’s part of the sound of the band.

What have you got planned for the tour? What can fans expect?
We’re at the best we’ve ever been. We’ve always been a brilliant live band and since the new Skunk Anansie, since 2008, we’re really on top of our game. We’ve got the biggest production we’ve ever had and it’s just a really amazing show and I’ve a couple of tricks! There are a couple of things I do that I bet I’m the only person in the country who would dare do coz everyone’s such a chicken shit. We’ve got all our new stuff that people love, our new songs are going down really well and then some classics as well. So you know it’s a full on show!

We’ve got the biggest production we’ve ever had and it’s just a really amazing show and I’ve a couple of tricks! There are a couple of things I do that I bet I’m the only person in the country who would dare do coz everyone’s such a chicken shit.

Skunk Anansie are playing Manchester Academy 1 on 22nd March 2013. You can book tickets here. Keep up to date with the band via their website, Facebook and Twitter. You can follow Skin on Twitter here.

Interview by Anne Louise Kershaw
Find me on twitter here. 

This interview first appeared on Manchester’s Finest

Today I listened to: Skunk Anansie
Today I read: Independent, Guardian, Telegraph, Manchester Evening News
Today I watched: Jan Svankmajer’s Alice

 Another completely unrelated image. I took this recently in Blackpool, it’s part of a set that I intend to make into a film along with a poem i’ve written. I love Blackpool and it’s grainy beautiful grittiness, rain or shin, I love taking images there.

The annoying thing is that Twitter is unbelievably useful. My need-top-know-the-news head is satisfied by following all the papers and journalists I like to read. And even those I don’t – just to keep me both balanced and angry. The culture-freak in me follows the drama queens of the theatre and way-out-theres of the arts world, while my inner muso follows all the blogger, giggers and gass-baggers on the scene. Collectively this provides a feed of info that fuels my life. Granted, you have to sift through the #tweetwhatieat and #babydoesgangnamstyle threads, but once through, you’ve a spread of ideas that could lead absolutely anywhere.

But there’s the crux. Will they lead you anywhere? It couldn’t be more fitting that whilst writing this, I am simultaneously keeping an eye on the twitter window open next to word that is providing live updates of this morning’s bomb scare in Manchester city center. I am sat at home, freezing but safe, writing away, fully aware of what is happening at the cities core. People on my Manchester network are tweeting events, yet apart form the reliable Manchester Evening News, not a single national rag is covering the topic. I am reading about bombs in Mali, but have to rely on people in the street for updates in Manchester.

Through selective following (like breeding for the twittersphere), twitter is providing me with info that is relevant to me while the nationals remain London-centric! Now I know that not only news that is relevant to me, is relevant to me (say that with a gobstopper in), but at time like this Twitter excels. It also excels at distraction. Jesus, I’m trapped in a cyber-loop of confusion and all I can see is hashtags and @ symbols. This is certainly trending. The fact that twitter’s appeal has steered me away from the crux I was referring to two paras ago makes my: Case. In. Point. (As one would type on twitter!)

So will it lead me anywhere? So far today it has lead me astray. I was intending to write about the annoying musical band-waggoning trend twitter has revealed to me lately, but have been sidetracked by another thread in my brain or is that a vain in the machine. I can see the lines between twitter and life, timeline and memory are fast dissolving, as my fingers become keyboard shortcuts to my life! One thing is clear; it is time for a screen break and a brain reboot. I’ll go make a coffee and check in on my iPad!

Today I read: Twitter, Manchester Evening News
Today I listened to: Daughter 

I know that I visited Paris over three months ago but i’m still yet to sort my way through the thousands of pics I took there. This is the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower. Needless to say I was VERY happy when taking this picture so when I look at it it makes me feel all tiggly in the tum and nice. Aah. 

I would like to think this is because I am cutting edge with technology, because of my complete hipster status or due to the slick and geeky way I dress (i’m more Frank Butcher meets Cyndi Lauper). In fact, the ONLY reason people thought I was iEndowed was because of my high twitter mileage. Yep, I like to tweet!

I believe there is a little twitter star of glory within us all. I believe following the ‘right’ people (a heady blend of indy creative and journos who will NEVER return the favour) and ‘right’ sites can enhance your life and career no end. You just have to direct the glow. It’s not all comedic cats and food-headed dogs. If worked properly (like one works the room at a cocktail party of important people; still on my to-do list) productivity can increase and procrastination can be avoided (looking at pics of shaved cats is procrastination, unless you are picture editor for Shaved Cats FM).

My twitter smugness was shocked into drama pose – back of hand on forehead – and a seriously pixelated reality check just over a fortnight ago. Encouraged by the Suzanne Moore/Julie Birchill/Transabuse saga I found myself spending what equated to full-time hours (I, who doesn’t have time to wash the pots/wash my hair/wash) darting back and forth between response articles and open letters. Hateful things had been said and I’m not fond of that! I added my rant and was not alone. Every person and their electronic dog was dibbing in. Fortunately some fantastic writers were responding excellently on the subject (see this brilliant Paris Lee piece here) but while thick in the broils of a bitter battle I saw looming real-life deadlines and actual paid work piling up. I promptly dibbed out!

I, so cocksure and on-the-ball (what a combo), had had my reins steered by passion and protest. To get all drama-queen on your ass, in truth, passion and protest is the stuff of life. But whose life? At that moment in time, not mine. I realised that I was adding nothing to the cannon of debate by tweeting like the hybrid lovechild of Stonewall and an ‘80s typing-pool superstar. I was losing money and time. Yet I’d been fuelled with energy that was a shame to waste.

So I did what any self-respecting writer would do, I made notes, proper useful, balanced notes and a plan. Then I tweeted about them. Then I saw a link to some hyper-neon running shoes. Forty minutes later I received confirmation that the trainers were on their way and that I was not, in fact, half as twiterplined as I thought. So I swiftly tweeted “You know when you realize you must try harder. That”. Follow by “You now that ‘that’ thing. I hate that”.

Today I listened to: Public Service Broadcast
Today I read: Paris Lees, Roz Kaveney and Laurie Penny as a reminder of how to write very passionate arguments about things you feel strongly about, but in a beautifully well-balanced and objective way.
Today I watched: The new video by Screaming Maldini

Quite a nice site to look at after a glass or two of wine, working our way back from the Eiffel Tower to the Marais where we stayed on the ace boat bus!

It wasn’t until Whelan began thoroughly researching World War I, and stumbled upon the tragic story of ‘The Accrington Pals’, that his mumble of ideas really took form. And as the WWI centennial preparations begin it seems suitable that Whelan’s 1981 play should be brought back to life in the fantastic space of the Royal Exchange.

Under direction of James Dacre, ‘The Accrington Pals’ is portrayed in all its glory as a brilliant example of theatre that covers a supposedly well-known topic, while steering clear of the usual clichés. Yes there are scenes of woe, marching soldiers and all the gloom that the realities of war bring, but there is so, so much more.

The play is based around a typical survey sample of Accrington locals; the town (and surrounding area) saw 700 of its fit and enthusiastic men respond to Lord Kitchener’s call-to-arms. Many enlisted through a sense of duty, “How can I take up arms – how can I not?” many as a way out of the working-class monotony they daily endured, “Sick of office, sick of stall”, and many as a means to see new horizons in the company of pals. Most, by far, did not return.

Seen largely through the eyes of those left behind – mothers, wives, lovers, and those who frustratingly never managed to be any of the above – ‘The Accrington Pals’ explores the incongruity of life lived during such changeable and anticipatory times. Fortunately the Royal Exchange has brought in an exceptional cast to explore such intricate personal and social dynamics.

Lead by market stall owner May, we see how issues of war are woven around a tight-knit community deconstructed by it. Played both chillingly sharp and tenderly warm by Emma Lowndes, May is all quiet affection and resentment. She pleads with CSM Rivers to release her artistic and passionately sensitive younger cousin Tom – played delicately by Robin Morrissey – from his army commitment, yet cannot bring herself to face up to the deeper desires she has for him.  Rivers poignantly quips wile shaving “I must finish these whiskers, leaving them only stiffens their resistance” and proceeds to take Tom off to war under his wing.

In contrast to the achingly distant relationship of May and Tom, is the delightfully natural pairing of Ralph and Eva. Gerard Kearns‘ humour “My little pocket Venus” and Sarah Ridgeway’s sensuality and steadiness, “Let me feel that hollow in your back. That’s mine that is”, offer an opposing sexual dynamic to that of May and Tom.

Contrast thematically threads throughout the play. As well as relationships, there are contrasting gender roles each with deeply opposing shades. The men, both carefree and cautious, go off to fight, reporting back about “That free spirit of comradeship you see out here, but not at home” that Tom tries to capture in his sketches; yet we know ultimately of their tortuous and doomed fate. The women, on the other hand, are left to pick up the pieces and end up faced with opportunity unknown to them before. As May enthuses, “While I was out I looked at a shop…the ones i’ve fancied taking on. And suddenly it all seems more possible.” In a similar vein Bertha, previously the butt of everyone’s jokes, takes on a role of responsibility on the trams, even attracting attention from the men. Self-proclaiming that “Even my dad says i’m better followed than faced” Bertha attracts desires from an asthmatic electrician – May practically points out that they are hard to come by – yet cannot even consider responding to his advances due to the ‘shameful’ fact that he isn’t well enough to fight. Performed with a naïve and self-depreciating humour by Laura Elsworthy, such scenes perfectly sum up the social complexities daily occurred. With every benefit, there are a thousand mind-twisting drawbacks.

Although it may seem odd to speak of benefits when talking of war, ‘The Accrington Pals’ strength is in steering completely away from war clichés. For a play about WWI is it richly feminine at its core and highlights perfectly the areas of beauty and benefit within such a terrifying landscape. The men are bold and bond over a believed sense of breaking free from their working-class shackles, whilst heading straight into the line of fire. The women demonstrate a newfound independence and strength in presented opportunity, whilst harbouring a deep-rooted and well-grounded fear of the unknown.

Such is the community strength of the women that despite all anxiety, and the brutality they live in, you find yourself actually belly-laughing at their humorous natterings. There is Annie, played by Sarah Belcher, who repeatedly runs on stage just to beat her son yelling, “Stand still while I hit you”. At one point she does so with the buckle end of a belt, leaving him cruelly damaged and bloody. Her friend Sarah, who is suspicious and sharp, played by the very funny Rebecca Callard, talks of her other half “He’s like a steam hammer. If he missed me we’d have the wall down”.

Other comic occasions were provided accidentally courtesy of the extremely wet cobbled staging which saw Ralph slip once or twice and Eva land flat on her bum (jokingly playing it off by saying “oops, think i’ve had too much”). Despite this the set was very well done. There was a minimalist mix of domestic trappings that would turn into trenches at the flip of a kitchen table; perfectly knitting the notion of distance and yearning between the men and women. Sound and voice play was very effective, although on a couple of occasions the music seemed to end a little too abruptly, with the effect of shaking you out of the fantasy for a spilt second.

The fantasy however cannot last for long. Culminating in a brilliantly surreal scene, that was the initial impetus for Whelan, you are left feeling quite torn open and left bare. The Royal Exchange has put on a production that is as relevant now as it ever was, with regards to warfare, and the dynamics of people and the lives they lead. Bitter, brutal and beautiful. ‘The Accrington Pals’ will haunt you for weeks to come.

Today I listened to: Last Harbour and Screaming Maldini
Today I read: The Times online
Today I watched: Too many youtube videos of new bands

Sunrise over the Seine on the morning of my birthday.

One event to begin festivities is the premier of Carol Ann Duffy’s Rats’ Tales at Manchester’s Royal Exchange Theatre. After that, Christmas markets, fairy lights and endless reindeer-illustrated-cups of mulled wine can ensue with full-on glee.

So as theatres across the land prepare for panto season, the Exchange has gone decidedly darker with its Christmas Offering. Rats’ Tales is the most recent Grimms’ fairy tale-esque collaboration between Poet Laureate and Adapter/Director Melly Still who began working together almost 20 years ago.

Their most current production sees the telling of eight traditional, adapted and newly written fairy tales from the darkest corners of Europe; each as sinister as the next. We have child abduction, a wickedly jealous mother, a violent stepfather, a changeling and a touch of potential incest. In a storybook world awash with saccharine royal-iced glossing, Rats’ Tales taps into every child’s fear and every adult’s nightmare.

Proceedings are pleasantly balanced with lively and humorous performances from a mainly debut cast to the Exchange stage. This unfamiliarity aids an air of the unknown which certainly has you checking over your shoulder a few times when the stories reach their darkest. We have a Pied Piper who looks like Nick Cave as the devil incarnate, a teacher turned wooden doll turned back-end of a horse and a woodcutter who flits as both Prince Charming and troll child.

Cast versatility is mirrored by a dynamic and creative use of staging and sound; barn fires, cliff edges and fast flowing rivers are presented at a fearsome pace leaving viewers slightly breathless from all the action. Inventive sound effects and music are preformed live by multi-instrumentalist duo Rosemary Toll and Tom Thorp and are far from minimal. They play everything from guitars and sax to clarinet, glockenspiel and cello not to mention percussion and keys, used in a variety of ways ranging from the traditional, to the positively inventively unusual. Additional to this is some sharp and quite chilling video work my Manchester based Soup Collective, which cleverly places the fairy tales in the present day; reinforcing the fact that such fears and threats are as justified now as they ever were.

As tale after tale unfolds you feel like the child who, having asked for just one more story, actually gets another, then another; each creepier than the last. You are left feeling that you would rather have another scary story, than be left alone. But fear not, there are some happy endings, though even those do not come easily.

Rats’ Tales is at best when it is at its darkest and it successfully drags you through a full-range of emotions, as is typical of the average child’s day. If you allow yourself, you can step into the sinister, safe in the knowledge that you will be singing and dancing by the end – the production team have worked hard to maintain that balance that allows the play to be enjoyed by everyone “from age 8 to 108” as it is claimed. And I could see by the faces of the audience that that is certainly true.

Rats’ Tales is both light and dark, scary and sentimental, sinister, and overall jubilantly so. For a much-anticipated Christmas production, the Royal Exchange have reached deep into the shadows and pulled out a real gem of a show.

Today I listened to: Public Service Broadcast and Herdwhite
Today I watched The Hour
Today I read David Malouf’s Remembering Babylon

This picture is far from perfect but I really like it. I watched this little sparrow underneath the Eiffel Tower for a while. He was very Parisienne :O)

The Country Wife was one of only a few plays that made William Wycherley a respected wit about the court of Charles II (with whom he shared a mistress). The play was first performed in 1675; a time of relative creative and cultural freedom following the instability and turmoil of The English Civil War and the puritanical peace of The Commonwealth. In true libertine spirit Charles II allowed theatres to re-open and even women were allowed on stage to play…women!

It is highlighted in an interesting essay by Viv Gardner in the production programme that the play enjoyed a revival in both the 1920s and 1960s; two more post war periods.  Maybe this is why The Country Wife is again of interest now, when the purpose of Satire – the laughs it provides alongside the ridicule of authority – is truly appreciated. Despite its time-specific success, reflecting our ebb and flow with censorship, the play was then considered distasteful and so went unperformed between the mid-seventeen hundreds till its revival in the 1920s.

Watching it afresh at the Royal Exchange Manchester, in 2012, there is certainly no disguising The Country Wife’s sensuousness. It is in how we allow these senses to direct our cultural and moral codes that fortunately, and unfortunately, maintain the play’s relevance. The opening scene immediately takes you straight into the play’s licentious nature as we see Horner (played bad-boyishly by Felix Scott), one of the main characters, being groinally inspected by his boiley and bawdy doctor. Horner conspires with his doctor to spread the lie that he is indeed impotent, so that London’s men-folk might relax while he is around their wives, and the wives themselves might relax while their ‘honour’ remains, at least publically, in tact.

What quickly unfolds is an interconnected line of lust that pretty much links every single character in the play. As a precursor to the fantastically descriptive character naming of Dickens and later Dahl, Whycherley’s characters are perfectly summed up by their titles. The anti-hero Horner literally has the horn for anything that moves; indeed it is men like him that provoke such primal fear in men like Mr Pinchwife. Insecure Pinchwife has pinched himself a country wife – the simple natured Margery – “because she’s ugly, she’s more likely to become my own”. Then there is Mr Sparkish, who, like a bolt of lightning, flicks his ‘wit’ about stage in a manner and a wig that could out-dandy the best of them. And not forgetting Lady Fidget, whose name depicts her sexual frustration.

Horner’s deceit results in successfully bringing every woman he wishes writhing to his bedroom door while Pinchwife’s plan – for a wife so innocent of the wants of London living that she is less likely to stray – sends her duly into the arms of Horner. While Horner gets all he wants from women, under the premise that they keep his lie a secret, Pinchwife makes no secret of his desire to mentally and physically keep his wife under lock and key.

Amidst the Carry On-esque antics that include false-identities, cross dressing, sexual deceit and a doctor locked in a chest, runs two parallel love triangles. On the one hand there is Pinchwife, his country spouse and Horner. His wife being more innocent than Pinchwife had hoped sees nothing atall wrong with asking her husband to take her to a play because she likes ogle the actors, and strongly implores him to tell her all about Horner who fancies her. On the other hand there is Pinchwife’s sister Alithea, her betrothed Sparkish and Mr Harcourt who desires her. While Harcourt openly ‘makes love’ to Alithea, Sparkish bafoons his way through events believing it all to be a sign of friendship. His total lack of jealousy makes Alithea all the more needy of his attention.

Central of course to all of this tomfoolery is the country wife herself. Played buoyantly with full Welsh swagger by the brilliant Amy Morgan, Margery’s role holds a mirror to the society the play is ridiculing. Innocent as she is of the sexual politics that embroils the rest of the characters, she initially hides nothing from her husband, even when it involves her desire of other men (indeed she does nothing to disguise her sexual excitement). At the plays culminating scene when everything is revealed, it is she who humorously asks “What’s the matter with them all?” highlighting the ridiculousness of such double standards and the deceit it brings. It is also she who, as wife of a controlling and highly jealous husband, is literally locked indoors while he goes about his business, and who is faced with the threat of “i’ll write whore in your face with this pen knife” should she not do as she is told.

This mirror that she holds reflects issues such as sexist double standards and domestic violence which add depth and relevance to the play that, if it were absent, would leave nothing but a comedic romp. In a media month that has seen the vastly contrasting responses to the comparable issues of Prince Harry naked and the Duchess of Cambridge topless, it is clear that the gender issues exposed with full gay abandon in the sixteen hundreds, are as ripe and raw in 2012.

While this is the case, many will enjoy The Country Wife for its full on technicoloured rompery. It is fast-paced, raunchy and, under the directorship of Polly Findley, brilliantly performed. The costumes and set designed by Helen Goddard brilliantly reflect the yin yan of glamour and grime that surround the play. It is all cod-piece and heaving bosom, silk and satin, boils and blisters. This in tern reflects the duel-standards explored and the incongruous contrast between honour and all out sexual adventure. During one set change the music was identifiably Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Purple Haze’ played with full-on classical raunch. This is another stylistic and topical nod to the fact that this restoration comedy is still applicable. It is also, full-on risqué rock n’roll!

The Country Wife runs from 12th September – 20th October. You can find more information and buy tickets here.

This article first appeared in Manchester’s Finest.

Today I listened to: The Very Best of Sam Cooke (on eternal loop)
Today I watched: The return of Sherlock Holmes
Today I read ‘How to be a woman’ by Caitlin Moran

We have been making stencils to spray on our garden walls. We started with the ban the bomb (easy) then made these cool lil bees (easy-ish) now we have made 3 foot high stencils of Prince and Bruce Springsteen which still need cutting out (really, really, not at all easy) I’m sure they will look the epitome of aceness once done. We just need to do them :O)

For the social butterflies amongst us, summer has been wonderfully rammed with artistic excitement. Organisations like Blank Media Collective, Cornerhouse, Contact and Z-Arts – to name just a few – have held extensive festivals and programmes involving institutions large and small. Stretching across the city, they have included a number of non-traditional venues (pubs, car parks, night-clubs) and have attracted a wider audience as a result.

Autumn sees this innovation expand into the classical music world with Collectives and Curiosities. Established by Jacob Thompson-Bell, Michael Betteridge and Emma-Ruth Richards – three composers and Royal Northern College of Music students – Collectives and Curiosities aims to take classical music out of the concert hall to involve more art forms. As Jacob Thompson-Bell explains, “the concert hall is only one context in which to hear music; there’s nothing inherently wrong with it but it shouldn’t be the only setting. Surroundings do a lot to form people’s impressions of an experience; we want to present our music in as many different ways as we can.”

Following on from the success of their initial night held at the Brodsky Bar in the RNCM building, their second installment, || : figure refraction ground : || is an extensive five installation held at Blank Space, Hulme St . Running from 25 – 29 September it involves a collaboration between the musicians and a wide array of visual artists including Debbie Sharp, Joanne McClung and Hayley Andrew who will work alongside singers, a string quarter and solo wind performers.

“Musical performances last for a certain period of time, then they’re gone” explains Michael Betteridge, “with physical sculptures and photographs, the same artwork can be revisited again and again. This installation uses sound recorded throughout the event, and a whole range of visual responses from the artists and Collectives and Curiosities, to combine the two. We want to show visual arts in a context that changes over time, and music as part of a physical exhibition that remains.”

The artists and musicians have a fully interactive experience planned and all those who visit Blank Space will become a part of the installation itself. “Anyone who enters will be recorded by the numerous microphones in the building, these recordings will be then mixed down and filtered through the gallery,” explains Betteridge. “On a larger level, audiences can make active choices about their interaction with events, in terms of how much, or little, they listen to or engage with it.  Elsewhere, there will be comments bored, interactive scores and participatory events that will ensure our audience is entirely active in the production of this work.”

As Emma-Ruth Richards explains, “People that would never come to hear a contemporary piece for string quartet will likely come because they have been invited to see an art installations and visa versa.” As everyone who visits will contribute towards the final piece, the outcome is, as yet, completely unknown. For more information and to take part visit the || : figure refraction ground : || blog here: http://figurerefractionground.wordpress.com/

This article first appeared in the Guardian Northerner

Today I listened to Hall, Stealing Sheep, September Girls and Eccentronic Research Council
Today I watched: Sherlock Holmes with Jeremy Brett
Today I read: The Rough Guide to Paris

I took this at the fantastic Projector Series Finale by Blank Media Collective. People could build poems using spliced up lines from existing ones. The results were wonderful, and sometimes, a bit disturbingly dodgy :O)

In the light of this I got together with legendary Madchester scenster, writer and DJ Dave Haslam to discuss what effect our Madchester obsession has on creativity in the city. I soon discovered that those who helped to shape the era are also largely responsible for deconstructing its cultural grip; to make room for what is and has always been their passion – new music!

Dave Haslam does not need an introduction. A musical legend in his own lifetime he was the epitome of ‘social media’ at a time when the word ‘web’ was solely associated with spiders. While many of us were getting over excitable with our Spectrum ZXs (age dependent; my friend’s dad had one) Haslam was doing what many people think is now only possible through the twittersphere via his early ‘80s fanzine Debris, something he describes as “similar to a blog, tumbler, facebook, and myspace all put together”. It provided Haslam – a total new music obsessive – with a platform from which he could write about and share what he though was great on the new music scene.

Despite its limited print run and select distribution, Debris was soon praised by the likes of John Peel and NME, resulting in the latter requesting Haslam write for their magazine. Consequently Haslam, aged 23, wrote his first double-paged feature for the NME; at a time when hundreds of desperate music-journo-wannabes were pitching to the mag on a daily basis.

“They didn’t have anyone in Manchester, Paul Morley had just moved down to London, so I became the Manchester correspondent”. Rather than reveling in the opportunity, Haslam, used to the creative freedom of Debris, “actually got a bit bored of the NME”. As the Manchester correspondent “they just wanted you to write about all the local bands. There was stuff I wanted to write about that I couldn’t. I remember wanting to write a piece on Public Enemy, and they were like, ‘ah no we have people in the office to do that’. I got pigeonholed and I didn’t like that.”

Haslam remedied such creative bracketing by DJing at the Hacienda – one of the most iconic clubs of the era (as you might expect of someone who get’s bored of the NME) and the rest, to most of us, is history. However it really isn’t. Yes, the Hacienda gained beyond iconic status on the club scene. It was also largely responsible – along with bands such as Stone Roses, Happy Mondays, Inspiral Carpets – for perpetuating the whole ‘Madchester’ sonic landscape. Yet even as that scene was forming, Haslam and the artists involved wanted to break free of its restrictions.

“I’d found the years leading up to Madchester quite exciting. Everyone was kind of hungry and experimenting with music and DJing, nothing was under control, and then suddenly people put a label on it! It was like, this is Manchester, these are the clubs and these are the bands. It all became defined and confined.” By the early ‘90s, Haslam had been approached to write for The Face magazine. In a reaction to the limitations he was already beginning to feel from the Madchester scene, the first piece he wrote for the magazine was titled “Madchester is dead, long live Manchester!’

Stirring further provocation Haslam would come out with statements such as “99.9% of local bands are shit and I don’t like them”, the main reason being to break the confines of location in order to return the emphasis to the music. “I grew up listening to New York bands like Talking Heads and Blondie and I loved the idea that I could connect with what they were talking about and what was happening in New York clubs. I got into all sorts of different stuff, but I really felt, why would I necessarily like a band from down the road more than any other band.”

As with most of the people who shaped the Madchester sound, Haslam’s main emphasis was good new music, not simply Manchester music. “If you have a profile in magazines, on radio and through DJing, people presume you allow geography to take over the criteria by which you judge music, and I never did”.  Such music focus was not always the most beneficial to his career. Despite getting calls from the NME, if Haslam hadn’t found anything worth playing or writing about, he simply wouldn’t. “I’d get calls from the NME asking ‘what are the latest bands’ and i’d say, ah well they’re all shit.” Equally ‘local’ bands would give him tapes requesting write-ups, but if he didn’t like it, whether it was Manchester based or not, it simply wouldn’t get done.

Initially such behavior can seem incongruous to someone who pioneers new sounds and assists struggling artists. However, the reliability of reputation that grabbed John Peel’s attention would easily be undermined by the glorification of local bands for the sake of NME column inches. Instead, it adds importance to those that are pushed, played and promoted, no matter where they’re from.

“People mistake the whole Manchester music history and the tradition that we have – the whole story, the whole mythology – for some kind of local pride”, on the contrary as Haslam explains “I interviewed Joy Division, The Smiths, Stone Roses, all those iconic bands and none of them wanted to be ‘local’ bands. They were all inspired by widely different things – like the novels by Franz Kafka for instance.” Like Haslam himself, these bands were culturally inspired by things from far further afield than Manchester, and in return hoped their sound and influence would reach further out still. “As Ian Brown said ‘It’s not where you’re from it’s where you’re at!’”

Although aesthetically and aurally, these bands became what defined the city, “It’s worth remembering that they didn’t form to promote Manchester” Haslam explains, “a lot of them, when they first came out, found the vast majority of people in Manchester detested them.” It’s hard to imagine it now but “for example, a lot of the passion and the feeling in Morrissey’s lyrics came out of the fact that he’d get chased through Piccadilly gardens by knob heads wanting to beat him up.” Despite the ultimate success, people like Morrissey were, at the time, social outcasts; themselves trying to create something new.

That ‘something new’ became so definitive, that it was all that people wanted and expected from acts emerging from Manchester for years to follow. Many bands found such infamy creatively claustrophobic and it even lead to criticism from the like of Haslam himself as he wrote his 2007 article ‘Is Nostalgia Killing Manchester Music?’ When I asked if he still thought this was the case however it seems his feelings have since changed, “Six or seven years ago I’d have said yes. That whole Madchester moment, that I guess lead up to Oasis being as big as they were and included the whole Hacienda/Stone Roses/Happy Mondays thing, was big and culturally important and a massive turn around from how the city had been perceived. That was all good in many ways, but I think it took a good ten years, from Oasis, for people to begin to allow room for other kinds of music.”

Finally now, people are making that room. “If you look at bands like Elbow, yes they are still boys in a band to an extent, but they are not a ‘lad band’. Guy Garvey himself even talks in ‘Build A Rocket Boys’ about that sensitivity that is very different to that ‘laddish’ thing”. This acceptance and interest in bands that do not fit into that Madchester sound, has also allowed for bands such as “the Ting Tings, which did get a bit Top Of The Pops, which was a bit sad, but also great singer songwriters like Badly Drawn Boy, Delphic, Everything Everything. If you to look at what’s happened in the past five or six years, there is stuff coming out of Manchester that isn’t falling into quite such a constricting definition as it would have done seven or more years ago.”

So it seems slowly the mould is breaking, or at least re-shaping, to allow room for new sounds and scapes. This is all a apart of the transitions that have always happened and been experienced by whoever is creating at the time. As Haslam says, “What you become aware of as you live longer and you hang out over a longer period of time is how long things take to happen, to reach the surface; like Elbow.” Haslam experienced first hand how long that process can take: “Going back, I wrote about the Happy Monday’s in the NME in 1985, four years later they had a hit single. I gave the Stone Roses their first positive review in the NME in 1986 three years before their debut album.”

So, without stating the obvious, there is no such thing as overnight change. The artists emerging from the city now have as many hurdles to work their way over, all be it maybe slightly different ones. As Haslam reminds us “All those bands, The Roses, the Mondays, James etc, didn’t have success on a plate. When they started out, nobody was interested in Manchester bands”. If there is a benefit to the Madchester label, it is surely its influence. “Back then, there wasn’t as many clubs, there were less DJs, less interest from local radio about Manchester bands and there was no international profile.”

Manchester does now have a profile that reaches beyond the M60. “So now a band might come along and feel that they’re at a slight disadvantage, because what they do is compared to all that history, and that is a disadvantage, but I think it tends to be journalists from out of town who do that, they don’t live here, their perception of Manchester is always a bit backward.” Plus, newer bands have all the advantages of the internet that the Madchester bands never had “Via the internet you can bypass the media and get your music heard.”

The Madchester scene was definitive. It helped to further widen the floodgates that northern musicians had been pushing their way through for years. Its position as a reference point, from which all emerging Manchester bands must be compared, is however slowly shifting; which is a good thing for new creative. Haslam sums up his thoughts on the issue: “My thing about the whole nostalgia issue is that being interested and inspired by the past is really important for creative people and by understanding what’s gone on, you can learn from it you can be inspired by it. So celebrating the past is OK. But I think if you’re an individual living in the past, then that’s really unhealthy. Equally if you’re a culture or you’re a city living in the past, that’s really unhealthy too. There’s a difference between celebrating the past and living in the past. I think that’s the key.”

With new artists, bands, nights and DJs emerging from the city all the time it’s nice to build on what the past has laid out, but equally important not to get hooked on its memory. “The most harmful thing about nostalgia is that it says things were better back then. That the past was more culturally significant than the present ever will be.” With a city as culturally diverse and vibrant as Manchester, we know this simply is not the case.

This article first appeared in Manchester’s Finest

Today I listened to Hall, Stealing Sheep, September Girls and Eccentronic Research Council
Today I watched: Sherlock Holmes with Jeremy Brett
Today I read: The Rough Guide to Paris

As usual, my picture is nothing to do with my feature. This was taken looking out from our campervan on a beach in Jura a couple of weeks ago. Tis quite calming and nice to look at when you’re so stressed you want to punch a cushion :O)

More than that, they encourage collaborations between differing art forms, artists and organisations; helping to develop relationships that aid creatives with their future careers.

It is therefore quite fitting that this summer BMC, freshly under the sole directorship of John Leyland, are eager to further share and expand their creative vision with the cities most interesting cultural haunts.

As John Leyland himself said: “Over the past 18 months we hope to have affirmed our place in the cultural landscape of Manchester. Summer 2012 for Blank Media Collective is about reaching beyond our four white walls and beaming our vision directly into spaces that foster Manchester’s creative community.”

So, as part of an ambitious summer of programming, the Manchester based Collective are hosting the BMC Projector Series – a program of exhibitions featuring contemporary artists from across the UK in collaboration with creative spaces in Manchester.

Showcasing the creative diversity of BMC’s work, the Projector Series’ maiden triptych encompasses a range of different creative media: film, installation, graffiti and live art. Artists are not simply exhibiting their work, they have uniquely responded to the individual spaces in exciting and unusual ways.

The spaces being explored as part of the series are The Salutation Inn, Sandbar and The Kings Arms. Each venue will exhibit the work throughout the series and will also host individual art and artist specific events.

Projector I at the Salutation Inn will see live graffiti art performances by internationally renowned Kev Munday and Manchester focused Dirty Work who will give audiences the opportunity to have a go with the spray cans.

Projector II at Sandbar will transform the space into a cinematic playground. Video art by Jessica Ball, Matt Smith & Stephanie Imbeau will be projected onto the bare bricks and hidden on screens in the winding walkways and audiences will be invited to a public screening with a difference.

Then, as a grand culmination to the unusual series, Projector III will see The King’s Arms transformed by installation artist Greg Thomas, who invites people to participate in what can only be described as a surprising conclusion to the series.

Demonstrating the importance of collaboration, whether between artists or organisations, Blank Media Collective plan to continue the Projector series and are set to take over the artistic space of nearby Contact Theatre as part of their Autumn programme. They are also involved with Abandon Normal Devices in Manchester, the festival of new cinema, digital culture and art, and will also be working with the Royal Northern College of Music as part of a forthcoming music and art collaborative project called Collectives and Curiosities.

While they may be smaller and considerably younger than many of the organisations they are working with, they are proving to be a real cultural hub; by bringing together previously self-standing organisations, they are bringing them to a new audience, in a fresh and exciting way.

Today I listened to: Eat Lights Become Lights