My Eisteddfod Diary

I managed to pay my first ever visits to a National Eisteddfod this week – being held in Cardiff for the first time since 2008. Unprecedentedly, since this celebration of Welsh language and culture has been taking place at Mermaid Quay in the Bay, there’s no charge to get onto the site itself, and take in the stands, stalls and tents (some cultural, some commercial); although the big events, of course (gigs, contests, plays etc), charge admission.

One of these was Hwn yw fy Mrawd (“This is my Brother”) – a tribute to the legendary African-American singer Paul Robeson, at the Wales Millennium Centre, from the almost as legendary Sir Bryn Terfel, which I had the chance to review. A history lesson/musical, outlining Robeson’s personal and political struggles and his links with Wales (including an appearance at the Eisteddfod in Ebbw Vale exactly 60 years ago), there was probably not enough of either Terfel or Robeson on offer for it to be entirely satisfying, but there were many other talented people involved.

Later in the week, I went back to check out some visual art. Firstly there was the display by the Contemporary Arts Society of Wales, in the Pierhead Building, of some historic works by the likes of Ceri Richards and Siani Rhys James. Then I braved the lengthy security queue at the Senedd (the Welsh Assembly Building) to experience the exhibition of new pieces selected for the Eisteddfod; some beautiful stuff, with some striking sculpture, photography and video, but I felt most drawn to the paintings – hazy portraits by Casper White, and James Moore’s work, redolent of surreal film stills.

"The Last Mermaid" / Dance Roads 2016

Aside from the glorious evening at “Make An Aria”, my only experience of the inaugural Cardiff Festival of Voice was the assignment to review local luminary Charlotte Church’s  first foray into music theatre: “The Last Mermaid” at the Wales Millennium Centre  Taking the lead role in this ecologically themed interpretation of the Little Mermaid story, she was in excellent voice, the visuals were remarkable, and the melodies very strong. A little more narrative clarity might have helped, but I can envisage it having a life beyond its short Cardiff run.

 

The Last Mermaid

Earlier that week I was invited to attend Dance Roads, an international evening of “challenging” modern dance from across Europe at Chapter. Part of the package was the opportunity to meet with some of the performers in the middle of the two-day showing, in order to discuss the role of the critic when it comes to dance; especially when most of us, especially in Wales, have no background in the form. It was a frank bur civilised session, which I attempted to write up for the British Theatre Guide; I think I managed not to betray my betray my excitement at having been in the presence of naked people (during the performance, rather than the discussion).

Cristina Lilienfeld (Dance Roads 2016)

Meanwhile, work has begun in earnest on the migration-themed project which I’m working on with Project Fio; actors have been cast and a venue secured. All very exciting.

"Ar Waith Ar Daith" / The Good Earth

Along with hundreds of others, I went down to Cardiff Bay on a cool, but mercifully rain-free Saturday night to witness “Ar Waith Ar Daith”, the huge open-air performance piece marking the 10^th anniversary of the Wales Millennium Centre. Produced by Walk The Plank, it was a celebration of the creative spirit of Wales, taking in movement, music (by John Rea) and poetry – even containing nods to sport and farming. Its centrepiece was opera singer Shan Cothi, playing Ceridwen, the enchantress, being ferried around on a huge, tree-like structure; and the massive cast included a choir of schoolchildren, a team of rowers, dancers, acrobats, and fluorescent animal puppets. Good use was made of the large spaces in front of the Centre, and the action was broadcast on big screens – just as well, since the large columns which are a feature of the Roald Dahl Plass inevitably obscured the view of proceedings at times. Various animations were projected onto the building itself, including a depiction of the birth of the bard Taliesin; and the 90-minute spectacular culminated in an impressive fireworks display. I can’t claim to have been on top of the narrative at all times, but the large crowd seemed engaged throughout, and its ambition could not be faulted.

Earlier in the week I went to Chapter to review “The Good Earth” – the first piece from Motherlode. About a tiny South Wales community being pressured to relocate, for fear of a mountain landslide, it was very well done, but I found it a tad manipulative – only presenting one side of the issue, harm coming to children etc. Excellent central performances, though. 

Fio - The Launch / Breakin' The Bay

I’ve spent much of the last year training as a workshop facilitator with Cardiff- and London-based Youth Of Creative Arts (YOCA), which works largely to promote participation in the performing arts amongst youth and ethnic minority groups. This last weekend saw its formal relaunch as Fio, as it aims to broaden its reach. The relaunch took the form of an Open Day at the Butetown History and Arts Centre in Cardiff Bay, the centrepiece of which was a set of performances led by the company’s freelancers. 

My contribution was two-fold: firstly, in collaboration with fellow facilitator Teklom Fisher, I’ve been working with a group from the Four Winds drop-in centre in the Grangetown area of the city for people with mental health problems, aiming to help them create an artistic response to the experiences of people from another drop-in centre – Oasis, in Splott, which caters for asylum-seekers. The resultant piece, “One Eye Open” was performed on the day, and was well-received.

In addition, during a week-long series of workshops at Fitzalan High School, aimed at provoking discussion of the concept of Britishness in an era of Islamist terrorism, I wrote a very short play which was performed at the launch, under the inventive direction of Mathilde Lopez. For a hurriedly cobbled-together first draft, it went down pretty well, even getting laughs in the right places.

A number of fellow trainees also contributed sterling work, and the mood on the day was a highly positive and optimistic one, amongst both participants and attendees.

Taking place simultaneously, a short distance away, was Breakin’ The Bay, a celebration of hip-hop MC-ing and DJ-ing, breakdancing, graffiti etc., based around the Wales Millennium Centre. I paid a brief visit on day 2 of this event, and was impressed both by some of the dancing on display, but also the continued commitment of long-standing devotees to the B-boy culture. Not my kind of thing, musically, but some emotional moments.

"Maudie's Rooms"

Following a number of unamusing miscommunications, I eventually got to see Louise Osborn's "Maudie's Rooms", and review it for the British Theatre Guide. Co-produced by her own company and Sherman Cymru, it's a tale of finding courage and inspiration from the past, taking place in a sumptuously re-modelled abandoned building in Cardiff Bay. Slightly creepy fun for all the family.

"It's My Shout" - the Premiere

Last night I attended the Gala screening of the 2013 crop of BBC Made In Wales films from the It’s My Shout scheme. Having submitted several scripts over the years, I was delighted when my screenplay for “Say It” was plucked from the sub’s bench, another piece apparently having been deemed unsuitable. The resultant film was shown, along with seven others, at a rather glitzy event at the Wales Millennium Centre; a real “premiere” atmosphere, and lots of entertainment in the foyer, provided by commendably enthusiastic young people from across Wales.

In the past, the quality of the films produced has varied somewhat, so I was pleased that my project, through the efforts of director Andrew Pring, and young actors Emily Burnett and Ross Langford, not to mention the crew (there’s also a cameo appearance from former footballer Nathan Blake) turned out very well. Not only that, but all eight films were excellent; even the ones which weren’t to my particular taste were very well executed. Which just goes to show what can be achieved on miniscule budgets, if casts and crews are sufficiently incentivised – in this case by professional mentorship, and guaranteed television exposure. My film even won an award, for best trainee location manager (Eleanor Shaw) - although I don’t suppose I can claim any credit for that.

The star guest was Rob Brydon, a former drama pupil of the scheme’s supremo, Roger Burnell. As well as making a typically amusing speech while accepting the Inspiration Award, he was hanging around in the V.I.P. bar beforehand, and at the after-party, held in the iconic St David’s Hotel. Sadly, I didn’t summon up the courage to chat to him, or even to our elected leader, Carwyn Jones, who was also in attendance. But I was able to catch up with some old friends, which was lovely.

The night before saw another British Theatre Guide reviewing assignment – “Sold”, from Theatre Versus Oppression at Chapter, an avowedly didactic piece about sex-trafficking and associated exploitation. There were some excellent performances, but it was, inevitably, a bit of a wallow in despair; although, obviously, one has to respect the courage of those on whose testimonies the piece is based.

 

"The Future For Beginners"

The new piece from liveartshow – a company set up by playwright Alan Harris, composer Harry Blake and director Martin Constantine – is “The Future For Beginners”, a chamber musical, which was presented in the Weston Studio at the Wales Millennium Centre. Experimental in the sense that it places naturalistic action in a non-naturalistic context (and that it’s still in development), it’s a parody on relationship control-freakery: a couple have tried to ensure that they stay together forever by planning out every day of their lives on the sheets of paper which dominate the set; but they have lost “Day 1”, and are consequently on the verge of breaking up. The protagonists, attractively played by Oliver Wood and Bethan Mary-James, rehearse future crises, both major and minor, and amusingly let us in on their variously converging and diverging neuroses. There is much artful use of voice-over, as well as video projection; and it was good to see the ukulele placed centre-stage, illustrating the characters’ quirks and aspirations. There was a mixture of songs, both standards (sung by Martin Helliwell, who should perhaps have been more fully integrated into the action) and originals - although the most effective moment was the climactic rendition of Death Cab For Cutie’s “I Will Follow You Into The Dark”. A clever, charming show, which could enjoy a long life.

Notes on a “Writing in Community Settings” workshop

This was a weekend workshop, in Cardiff Bay, organised by CULT Cymru, at the suggestion of a Writers’ Guild member who saw such courses advertised in the South of England; a way of exploring how writers might find work in therapeutic environments (e.g. hospitals, prisons), amongst those who seek to explore writing as a means of self-expression, healing or personal development; although, as it turned out, there was much that could be applicable to anyone thinking of setting up a writers' group in the wider community.

The workshop was led by Graham Hartill, poet and highly experienced facilitator, who works part-time at Parc Prison in Bridgend and teaches on the MSc in “Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes”, based in Bristol, via Middlesex University. The group was a mixed one – a few professional writers, but mostly people working on social care projects (e.g. drug rehab, oral history, with Alzheimers patients), seeking to use creative writing as part of their work.

I won’t go into great detail, but the course was structured thus:

Day 1 – the basics (setting up a respectful ambience within a writing group, the need for the group itself to construct the ground-rules, looking at practicalities such as access, etc. ). Then an individual writing exercise, based on a suggested title – written in a few minutes, and shared with the group (sharing not compulsory). This was followed by a discussion of the nature of the pieces, and the field of “therapeutic writing” as a whole (book recommendation – “The Self On The Page” edited by Celia Hunt and Fiona Sampson). Next came a collaborative exercise, with people working in pairs to explore issues around transcribing (and respecting) other people’s stories. Finally some theoretical concepts were introduced, notably “reflexivity” – the importance of being aware of what you, as a facilitator, bring to the group (e.g. values, prejudices, limitations, propensity to be critical of both work and people).

Day 2 began with a recap of issues raised on Day 1. After this, each participant was asked to outline a project that they were either working on, or would like to; these formed the basis of a group discussion, looking at the multiplicity of issues that arose (practical, legal, financial, ethical, emotional). This was followed by another individual writing exercise, which was then transformed into a group exercise. The day concluded with general discussion of practicalities in terms of further training, funding etc.

A fascinating couple of days, and a valuable introduction to an area of work in which I have no experience whatsoever. And it was certainly clear that considerations which apply to the setting up of writing groups in clinical/penal contexts would certainly apply in the “outside” world – the importance of creating an atmosphere of mutual respect, the need to have clear outcomes in mind, the tricky issue of getting paid for your work etc. The course may have focussed on “vulnerable” would-be writers in formal therapeutic settings; but one doesn’t have to be in an institution to feel vulnerable, to feel the need to use self-expression as therapy, and to want to seek out a supportive environment in which to do so.

Sharon Van Etten

I paid a rare visit to the Glee Club in Cardiff Bay, finally catching up with New York singer-songwriter Sharon Van Etten – a show which was rescheduled from September, when she chose to appear on Jools Holland’s “Later” instead (although he’s forgiven to a degree, because, in the interim, I finally read his excellent autobiography “Barefaced Lies and Boogie Woogie Boasts”). First on was Georgia Ruth, the much-lauded singer-harpist from Aberystwyth, who played a hauntingly beautiful five song set. The second support act was West-Country four-piece outfit This Is The Kit – banjo-led folk, lent a dark, hypnotic tone by some rolling bass and fuzz guitar; very likeable.

The headline set got off to a stumbling start due to sound problems (although, over the evening, the acoustics were excellent, perhaps since the Glee is a comedy club, so one would expect them to prioritise vocal clarity), but Sharon Van Etten and her band (Doug, Heather, and on the drums, Zeke), ploughed on with great good humour. Seamlessly drifting between plaintive indie-guitar folk and Velvet Underground-influenced drone rock, Van Etten was charm personified, dedicating one song to a family friend in the audience, and admitting that watching people singing along to her lyrics made her want to cry. My personal favourite, “One Day”, wasn’t on the set-list, but even the unfamiliar tunes made an immediate impression, and “Serpents” especially came alive.

Frankly, a magical night.