A Long Time Between Posts...

Wow, it's been a while. I still have a few films to write up, but I also haven't watched anything new in ages. My parents were over visiting for almost six weeks, in which time we got trapped in Copenhagen thanks to a volcano in my spiritual homeland wreaking havoc on air travel, and then another eleven days in Scotland and the north of England. In between, while they were travelling around, I was just working hard and trying to maintain some sort of a life outside of them, whilst being exhausted from constantly moving and not having a day off just to myself. It was great having them here though.


A couple of things I missed whilst not posting.


Firstly, last month I went and saw Rufus Wainwright's concert in Islington. It was incredible. He was touring to support his most recent album All Days Are Nights: Songs For Lulu, and after seeing it I'm thrilled that I'm not only seeing him at Kenwood House in July, but also at the Royal Albert Hall with his sister supporting in November.


The concert took place in the theatre where his opera, Prima Donna, was being staged, so his set was that of the opera, a great big mirrored thing. The concert took place in two halves. We were instructed that we were not to applaud at all until Rufus left the stage after the first half, and that there were to be no photographs during this set. Rufus walked out very slowly, like a funeral march, in darkness, to take his place at a grand piano sitting right in front of us (we were front row centre, literally - incredible seats.) He sat down at the piano and simply played the new album back to back. It was one of the most tense and theatrical experiences of my life. Some of the piano pieces are quite full on, and his vocal work is very dynamic, and the stipulation that we were not to applaud was truly difficult to obey. When someone does something marvelous you want to show your appreciation, and in a concert environment spontaneous ovations are hard to control, but control we did. There were a few moments when Rufus made some mistakes, but he just picked up and carried through, always a great thing to witness as you realise that fallibility is a human condition afflicting all. His professionalism in being able to continue was impressive, but again your appreciation could not be shown. Once he left the stage, again in his slow march, the applause was monstrous. Congregating in the foyer for a glass of wine was a true relief, allowing the glory instilled within us to shine out.


The second half was a more typical concert, with songs from his full back catalogue, harking all the way back to his first album. Interspersed with his cheeky humour it was incredibly enjoyable, and again emotional, as he closed out with a song by his recently deceased mother that saw him leave the stage in tears before returning for another encore with wet eyes. I have no issue with proclaiming it probably the greatest concert I have ever been to, finally eclipsing the Radiohead concert I saw in Melbourne in 2004 where I witnessed thousands of people act as one during a rendition of Exit Music (For A Film) - a phenomenal experience in itself. This concert showed Rufus with all of his entertaining power and skill - I highly doubt anyone left the theatre unaffected.


The second notable experience was just the other night when I went and saw the London production of Holding The Man. I first saw this play at the Griffin Theatre during its premiere production a few years ago. It is based on the memoirs of the same name by Timothy Conigrave, published in 1995, a well loved Australian book particularly within the gay and lesbian community. It is a love story between Tim and his high school sweetheart John, through the seventies and into the eighties with the explosion of the AIDS crisis. The two very different boys (and then men) found themselves always with each other, alongside each other, through all relationship issues and societal problems, with families not knowing how to deal with them, through people dying left right and centre, through casual encounters, interstate moves, and finally 'gay cancer' and the effect it had on the two and their relationship. They both died of AIDS related illnesses in the early nineties, just before Tim's book was released.


The initial Australian production was a phenomenal hit with critics and audiences alike. I was late in getting tickets to the first run and only managed to snare a couple when a friend of mine at the theatre company called and told me two people had cancelled and I could have their tickets for the performance in a couple of days. It was so successful (my memory tells me it played late 2006) that they staged another season for the Mardi Gras festival in 2007 and then a third season at the larger studio in the Sydney Opera House mid that year, where I saw it again. The play has toured to many other locations through Australia, and has finally been put together here with the same principal creatives - Matt Zeremes and Guy Edmonds reprise their roles as John and Tim, and David Bertholdt returned to direct. It is for all intents and purposes the same production as that which I saw in Australia, and it retained its power and beauty. The first act, through their meeting, courting, beginnings as a couple and exploration of the queer lifestyle once they become adults is remarkably funny, cut through with incredibly powerful moments. One of my favourite moments remains when Tim says, after a fight with his parents regarding his relationship with John, 'There is a time for slamming doors and breaking things, and there is a time for gritting your teeth and saying 'you poxy traitors, I hope you get cancer.'' It is very funny, but incredibly caustic and the moment and its delivery really encapsulates the tone of the play, especially through the first half.


The second act begins in the same vein, but once they are delivered the blow of positive HIV tests the mood shifts almost instantly and becomes much, much darker. Tommy Murphy's adaptation of the book, with Bertholdt's beautiful direction and the wonderfully creative and simple production design, drags you kicking and screaming into the horror of AIDS and the pain these two go through, but it is never deep oblivion. The true joy of this play comes from the love between John and Tim. It is beautiful and constant in its own special way, and it shines through with just enough light to stop you sinking into despair. Many a tear is shed during the final moments of the production, but when you walk out you are assured that life is, in fact, beautiful, despite the horrible things that happen. If you are in London I would definitely recommend taking the time to rush out and see it before it is due to close on the 3rd of July. You can see more about it here: www.holdingtheman.co.uk.


More films and reviews to come when I have sorted my life out a little.

Go Do It Now.

So, in my can-barely-breathe anticipation of the release of Go on Monday (please dear god let me pre-order arrive that day! Or I'll die. I will just die), Jónsi is streaming the entire album through here and here - I believe the last link is UK only.


If you haven't ordered your copy yet, you should be shot, or something. You can get it at jonsi.com. Or Amazon it. Or something. I'm listening to it now and it's making me very happy. I think there are still some tickets available to his tour, which is going to be epic from the looks of all the BTS vids posted around the place - 59 Productions are doing the stage and visual design, and it looks awesome.


Interestingly, Rufus is also releasing All Days Are Nights: Songs For Lulu on Monday. Brilliant! Two in one day! I recently discovered that I will be seeing Rufus four times in twelve months - I saw A Not So Silent Night last December, I'm hitting up his Sadler's Wells gig in a couple of weeks (front row! Centre! Wham), then seeing him play a Kenwood House picnic in July (or June? I only discovered I had tix to this the other day... haven't written the date down. Oops), then again with his darling sister Martha at the Royal Albert Hall in November, just before I depart this fair country. Crazy, I know.


So now, here's an embed of Go Do, which we love:

I'd embed a Rufus clip, but I don't know where they are. But we do also love the sound of the tracks we have heard. The Royal 'We', obviously.

RIP Kate McGarrigle

While my love affair has primarily been with her son Rufus Wainwright over the last five or six years, and subsequently her daughter, Rufus' sister, Martha Wainwright, it is impossible to love these two and know their music and stories without knowing about Kate. Rufus especially talks highly of his mother (she did, after all, never have a song like Dinner At Eight written about her), and her battle with cancer was widely spoken of after she was diagnosed during his putting together of his most recent studio album, Release The Stars.


She was a fairly major folk star, together with her sister Anna McGarrigle, in the 1970s, tumultuously married to Loudon Wainwright III for a few years, another folk star who has recently come back into the spotlight both through his children's rising status and his work on such things as the soundtrack to Knocked Up. Over the last decade or so she has, however, been primarily known as the matriarch of this extraordinary musical family.


I was lucky to see Kate for the first (and, unknown to me at the time, last) time at the Christmas spectacular A Not So Silent Night not much more than a month ago, at the Royal Albert Hall here in London. She was looking frail there, always sitting when performing, lovingly doted over not only by her children but by all else there. I think all in attendance, whether performing or watching, were aware of her understated power. Her anecdotes and jokes, while sometimes hard to hear, had all in rapture. It would appear that everyone had incredible respect for this woman who has seemingly muddled her way through over three decades of performance whilst raising very gifted children and, in the latter part, battling the cancer that eventually was her downfall.


Whether or not you know her music, she will be missed simply through association with Rufus and Martha. With their propensity and ability to wear their hearts on their sleeves in their music (not only Dinner At Eight, but Martha's Bloody Motherfucking Asshole is a powerful song about her relationship with her father, and there are so many songs about their emotions and opinions that do not even pretend to be veiled) you can expect many a heartbreaking tribute to Kate to appear and feature prominently in upcoming works. And if you are familiar with her beautiful songwriting and voice, may she forever live on in your record collection and iTunes. She's such a rare creature to emerge from the entertainment industry, respected popularly despite her relative obscurity, and the likes of her we may never really see again.

Ho Ho Fucking Ho.

A Not So Silent Night is a concert, or variety show, or something, that takes place around this time every year somewhere in the world, put on ostensibly by Rufus Wainwright, with his sister Martha Wainwright, mother Kate McGarrigle and aunt Anna McGarrigle participating.

Firstly, is this one of the most incredibly musically talented families ever to exist, ever, in the history of forever? Kate and Loudon Wainwright III begat Rufus and Martha. Loudon has since begat Lucy Wainwright Roache. Anna begat Lily Lankin. Loudon’s sister is Sloan. And they’re all fantastic! All but Loudon were present last night. I think...

Onwards. The night was a show to support the Kate McGarrigle Foundation, set up post her cancer diagnosis a few years ago. They booked the Royal Albert Hall, pulled in a bunch of friends (from Boy George to the singer from Elbow to Ed Harcourt (names are from memory...)), and basically made you feel like you were in their enormous living room, watching them fumble through a performance for family and friends devised moments before after a couple of glasses of mulled wine more than strictly necessary.

It was a shambles, but I mean that entirely in a positive way. They’re introduced by Dawn French and Jennifer Saunders, they all come on, sing a carol or song or what-have-you together, and then take turns coming up to the front to sing another, in various permutations. So many of them appear to be related somehow, and over the three hours of the show they’re all up there, singing, playing an instrument, dancing, whatever takes their fancy. Rufus and Martha are ducking back and forth to introduce performers when they remember, they’re up the back chatting amongst themselves devising entertaining (to them, and because they seem like such children, entertaining to us) ways of introducing new people. They share anecdotes about their friends on stage and their own christmases together, the sing some more songs… it was a rollicking great time. Really. It was actually like a variety show, but pretty much all music.

Everyone involved was a truly accomplished performer, and they really span the gamut of genres. The McGarrigles are renowned folk performers, Martha and Rufus have done rock, pop, whatever between them, there are opera singers, ballad performers, and never have I seen a banjo so many times on stage. There literally was never a dull moment. The entire audience seemed to be wholeheartedly enjoying and involved in the production. It had, obviously, been rehearsed, at least the musical numbers, and they all knew what they were doing once the notes were played, but the sight of a lone scrambling roadie attempting to set up for each and every song, requiring chairs for some performers, microphones adjusted, guitars on and off stage, it all lent an air of hectic improvisation.

It’s a really hard show to review. Technically, there were problems, but who cares? They were all having so much fun, that it just didn’t matter, because that feeling of fun oozed over to the audience and didn’t let up.

Something I will definitely be looking forward to. They did it last year in the States, so I’m assuming that next year it will probably return there. Could be a good excuse for a December holiday next year, though.

Further...

... to this, via here and thanks for it, comes this:



It's gratuitous posting of pretty people, but I'm not ashamed.

I'm also back from Iceland, so I'm going to hit the ground running tomorrow with a few films over a few days, so we can ease off of random pictures of Brad Pitt half naked. Sad in some ways, happy in others.

Also, watch out for my word on A Not So Silent Night, which I'm seeing tomorrow here in ol' London. I have high hopes. Please don't disappoint me, Rufus.