Category: Arts & Theatre

Dragon On

Dragon On

As prophesied by the oracle, Go Go Dragons has proved to be a huge hit with children and adults alike judging by the legions of buggies, brownies, cubs, dinkies and wrinklies, brats in caps and overheated parents following the Dragon Trail during the summer break. In all, there are 84 large legendary creatures huffing and puffing along the streets and 120 baby dragons sniffing around various window displays. It’s quite a trudge to get round them all. Here’s a sample that caught my eye. My personal favourite is Dragon Nelson.

Something Funny Happened on the Way to the Forum

Something Funny Happened on the Way to the Forum

On the day of the Lord Mayor’s Show last month, we took a circuitous route to the Forum, the party’s thumping epicentre. As we walked along Bethel Street, we stumbled across the Old Skating Rink, a barn of building set back from the road. Liam was curious.

Let’s take a look inside.

So we did and this is what we found.

Built for roller skating in 1876, the listed building is now an Aladdin’s cave of oriental rugs, textiles, traditional and antique furniture, ceramics, wood carvings, accessories and decorative objects – all directly imported from Asian regions extending from Anatolia to Java. Part-shop, part-museum, the owner, Country and Eastern, is doing its bit to help to keep traditional skills alive by supporting the South Asian Decorative Arts and Crafts Collection (SADACC) Trust.

Liam bought me a little brass cow bell. I placed it by the side of the bed. Now I can ring for service.

Last Tango in London

Last Tango in London

At the arse end of another weekend in the Smoke, we found ourselves with time on our hands at Liverpool Street Station. Liam’s bright idea to kill time was a detour to Old Spitalfields Market for a browse and a bite. I say ‘old’ but Spitalfields has been relentlessly gentrified since its heyday as an East End fruit and faggots emporium. Apples and pears have given way to arts and crafts, jellied eels to corporate fare. The place was heaving and the tourists lapped up the fake authenticity. There was a surprise round every corner and this was the biggest surprise of all. It was mesmerising.

If Music be the Food of Love

If Music be the Food of Love

Norwich Cathedral Cloister

In an attempt to develop this old Philistine’s cultural palate, Liam dragged me along to Norwich Cathedral for a bit of drag from the Bard. The Lord Chamberlain’s Men, an open-air theatre company, brought their production of ‘Twelfth Night’ to the divine (forgive the pun) Gothic cloisters of the Norman edifice. Billy Shakespeare’s cross-dressing comedy of mistaken identities was a big hit with the picnicking crowd. It went down well with us too, along with a bottle of Merlot. Sadly, the show wasn’t quite so popular with the famous pair of peregrine falcons roosting in the cathedral spire. Clearly pissed off about being upstaged, they squawked through the entire performance.

The Lord Chamberlain’s Men are noted for bringing a touch of Tudor authenticity to their gigs and this was no exception. I knew the Bard could be bawdy but I never knew he could be so camp. This was a delicious cross between ‘Life of Brian’ and John Inman in ‘Are You Being Served?’

Every one of Shakespeare’s works has its famous lines and Twelfth Night is no different…

If music be the food of love, play on.

Be not afraid of greatness; some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.

Not bad for the ‘Carry On Camping’ of its day, eh?

Lordy, Lordy!

Lordy, Lordy!

There was no rain on the Lord Mayor’s Parade. Clear blue skies and one of the warmest days of the year provided the perfect excuse for the good citizens of Norwich to throw a giant party. Last year, we watched the pageant from a neighbour’s balcony, the surreal highlight of which was Alice Cooper’s ‘Poison’ blaring out from a giant float. This year, we got down and dirty with the great unwashed. Singers, dancers and musicians from also-rans to best in breed kept the ample crowd entertained on street and stage across the city. The inclusion of so many children and young people with disabilities was a joy. The surreal highlight was a primary school dance troupe strutting their stuff to Alice Cooper’s ‘School’s Out.’ Obviously, the north folk of Norfolk are partial to a bit of shock rock. The carnival was topped off with a spectacular firework extravaganza over the Norman keep. Fabulous!

As you can see, we took a few snaps. They got progressively worse as we got progressively worse for wear. Liam has chucked together (and I mean chucked) a video compilation from the wobbly out-takes. Listen if you dare, to a drunken and tone-deaf sing-a-long-a-Liam during the pyrotechnics. The next day we had wine flu.

Poetry in Motion

Last month, I posted a little piece about street buskers in Norwich doing their thing along Gentlemen’s Walk and Haymarket. I mentioned a nubile young man who does magical things with his crystal ball and one of my regulars asked to see a picture (I can’t think why). I am ever responsive to the needs of my punters so, ladies and gents, I give you poetry in motion.

Notice the oldie at the beginning of the clip cruising past on his mobility scooter. That’ll be me in the not too distant future.

An Irish National Treasure

The annual Norfolk and Norwich Festival is in full swing right now, an eclectic mix of the performing arts in venues right across the city. One of the more original festival venues is the Adnams Speigeltent in Chapelfield Gardens, a replica Edwardian erection with a handy on-site beer garden to quench the thirst. Last night, we enjoyed a night at the big top with Panti Bliss, the Irish drag queen who’s become a bit of a national treasure in Ireland since her famous exposition of homophobia last year. I wrote a post about Panti’s eloquent speech and remarked at the time that it would change minds. And it has. Panti was no less eloquent last night as she revealed funny, absurd and touching titbits from her extraordinary life. Her social commentary was razor-sharp and the copious consumption of gin did nothing to blunt the edge.

Naturally, Panti has been a dedicated supporter of marriage equality in the Irish Republic. In fact, there’s a national referendum on that very subject today. Let’s hope our friends over the water do the right thing. I’m optimistic. It will mean that across these wind-swept islands, only Northern Ireland* will be holding back the tide of social progress. And a yes vote in the Republic might just shame those dusty old Presbyterians into some positive action. But did Panti get back to Dublin in time to cast her vote?

 *In fact, there is no marriage equality in the Isle of Man and Channel Islands either. Except in matters of tax evasion, these off-shore tax havens always have be dragged kicking and screaming into the modern era.

Pan’s People

Norwich is blessed with an embarrassment of busking richness from the totally bonkers (the senior citizen who makes Rod Hull and Emu look positively benign) to the truly mesmerising (the fit young man who gracefully rolls a crystal ball around his nubile body as if it were floating in thin air). The city elders encourage it and street performers need only obtain a free licence and promise not to obstruct the Queen’s highway. Come rain or shine, the catholic mix is a colourful sight most weekday lunchtimes and weekend afternoons but none are more colourful than the Peruvian pan pipers dressed in their vivid threads and feathered finery. I don’t know if their livery is authentic or a Disney pastiche but they certainly brighten up a dull day.

Pan Pipers

Chasing the Dragon

In 2013, we had gorillas in our midst. Last year it was the elephant parade and for 2015 it’s Go Go Dragons. Expect to chase the technicolor creatures along the Norwich dragon trail this June. Now call me a party pooper if you want, but I thought the purpose of these campaigns was to highlight the desperate plight of endangered animals. The last time I looked, dragons, unicorns and centaurs, fun and fantastic as they may be, don’t actually exist. I know, shut it, Jack. The kids will love it.

Dragon

Bewitched

The CrucibleMaddermarket Theatre Blue PlaqueA damp and dingy Saturday afternoon saw us at the Maddermarket Theatre for an am-dram matinee courtesy of the Norwich Players. We were Maddermarket virgins and I fancied a peek at the converted Catholic chapel. A striking Sixties’ add-on foyer looked better on the outside and led us to the interior of the church, reconfigured as an Elizabethan playhouse. We took our pews for The Crucible, Arthur Miller’s loud and densely scripted account of the Salem Witch Trials in colonial Massachusetts at the end of the Seventeenth Century. I looked around the audience. Many of them could well have sailed on the Mayflower. By now, we’re used to mingling with the grey herd at Norwich’s cultural events, but the care homes of Norfolk must have been deserted that afternoon. When the over-generous use of dry ice to create the misty ambience of a midnight glade threatened to gas the first four rows, I feared some of the punters might not make it back to the coach.

Maddermarket Theatre

Miller’s now iconic play is a story of rampant fundamentalism, ignorance and the abuse of power. Mass hysteria is whipped up to impose religious orthodoxy and settle old scores. Miller wrote the piece as an allegory of Fifties’ McCarthyism when the U.S. government hounded and blacklisted alleged communists (and socialists and liberals and anyone else who didn’t tow the party line). Sound familiar? Just take a look around the world. The play’s core message is just as relevant today as it was then. The talented thespians did well to deliver the difficult drama with conviction leaving us with the real sense of a menacing world gone completely bonkers. Sadly, the message was all lost on a few. As we queued to leave the auditorium at the end of the performance, an old Norfolk broad turned to her companion and announced:

“Didn’t understand a word of it. Not a word. Marvelous, wasn’t it?’