AFROW SAYS: ‘WE ARE TRULY A-MUSE-D!’

A revolution was televised.

Doing what it does best, the BBC delivered an epic of drama, comedy, fear, doubt, exhileration, madness, anger, joy, success, truth. A small-screen offering, so vast in ambition, that, at any other point in the multi-media new-age, it might have remained engulfed within the ether of ideas. However, it seemed that the country was ready to be gripped by the hands of a vivid voyage of emotional discovery and overcome by a tidal-wave of reality and revelation, in the guise of two actors, Dan Poole and Giles Terera, and embark on the ultimate Shakespearian road-trip!

Entitled ‘Muse Of Fire’, the premise revolved around a long-running issue with regard to the assimilation, or not, of, quite possibly, our most exceptional playwright, The Bard of Avon… Investigating exactly why, for some, his entire body of work is so unapproachable… Why, for others, the language is so, utterly fear–inducing, as to inspire pyjama-drenching night-sweats! It was a bold attack upon this trepidation and through raw and honest show-and-tell, on the part of the two actor-protagonists, themselves, and a wealth of  notable thespians of all vintages, we were enticed to, part-ransack, part-coax, memories of relationships with Shakespeare, to our own frontal lobes.

It quite got me to thinking back to my first remembrance of language, let alone, plays…and my earliest recollections start from hearing poetry recited around the house, both to me and during such activities as washing the dishes! Hearing ‘The Boy Stood On The Burning Deck’ or ‘Elegy Written In a Country Churchyard’ delivered with the passion of artists who have graced any world-renowned stage, whilst attempting to scour a pot, served to turn such a quotidien task (often to the detriment of the item being cleaned!), into a surreal foray around the realms of one’s imagination…

Thus, when time came to become better acquainted with William Shakespeare, I was already accustomed to cadences, wordplay and verbal soundscapes…even though I did not formally know of the terminology. I devoured the energy of phrases, which danced along my tongue, at times gliding as a ballroom-dancer in the hallowed halls of Blackpool’s ‘Tower Ballroom’, at others, popping like an old-skool, free-styler, at ‘Ministry of Sound’! I revelled at falling-in-love through Juliet and agonised through the stoic melancholy of Cleopatra, as she regaled Mark Anthony post his demise. How the memory of he who was no more, should have been more vital than those who were still alive, further to the peerless gift of its articulation, led me to an acutely profound plateau of emotive reasoning, which, in turn, facilitated my understanding, before I could process fear. I now realise that, for me, the visceral route of the subtext of ‘feelings’, fleshed-out my cognitive response to the motivation in the text, itself… Of course, back then I was simply caught up in the relentlessly sublime drama of it all!

Thankfully, I was encouraged to run headlong into Shakespeare. Not understanding was never frowned upon, but instead, utilised as a splendid spark for deciphering a message… Hitching oneself to the emotional-wagon, focusing upon the landmarks, absorbing every ounce of scenic suggestion, as to the narrative, and putting the clues together to make a picture, was the ultimate in ‘Sherlocking’! Never were my thoughts decried, and if they were wildly off-track, then that was fine as, with guidance, the dots were joined. Sounds perfect. Well, it was…in that my understanding of perfection is not that everything is correct all of the time, but that there is a sense of completion which can be had, in connection.

Sometimes, I’d connect with Shakespeare on a guttral level and, to experience that, was all there was to be had. The assimilation was complete, no less engaging and, therefore, perfect. At other stages upon my journey, I have experienced a ‘stillness’. No feeling, per sé, but no doubting that I had received content that would emerge, in the fullness of time. That was perfect, too! I have, since, continued to learn that accepting a new definition of perfection was the key to my true enjoyment of the rigours of, not just Shakespeare, but any style of writing or artistic endeavour, and the ‘approach’ has been a dear companion, to this day!

This week, ‘Henry V’ arrives at ‘The Noël Coward Theatre’. I have a distinct feeling that, since ‘Muse of Fire’ so powerfully broke through the glass ceiling of fearlessly embarking upon a Shakesperian exploration, there will be an even quieter ‘hush’ as the curtains go up and a lion’s-roar of applause, at its conclusion. I also believe that, in no small measure, it will be at the crux of an upswell of all-age, theatrical re-engagement and interraction. To me, it was the fulfilment of one, particular viewpoint of The Bard and the beginning of an exponentially, expanding vista, by cleverly incorporating and perpetuating the fact that showing-and-telling-the-emotional-working is wonderful!

So whether you think you get it, feel you get it, aren’t sure whether you get it, at all…rest assured that it’s not about judging the response, rather, connecting, in the way which is, not only bespoke to you, and/or speaks to you..but which truly sets the muse of your heart on fire…

©AFROW2013-2019 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.museoffirefilm.co.uk/ ~ http://www.delfontmackintosh.co.uk/Tickets/HV/HV.asp

http://www.theblackpooltower.com/ ~ http://www.ministryofsound.com/

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TWITTER-TESTIMONIAL FROM GILES TERERA!

‘Amazing piece, by the way!’

‘AN EAST-END LOVE AFFAIR’….

So, yours truly has returned from swooping and dipping upon the mighty back of a modern-art and musical mistral! Just as this meteorological thermal is quickly-accompanied by clear and fresh weather, so too, has my mental after-party been partnered by crystallised, cognitive art-assimilation!

Utterly wooed have I been, by the dapper-gent of East London’s multi-disciplinary art-scene..and I have fallen for every magnificent manifestation, in both conscious and subconscious realms. Frankly, the area oozes creativity…. From urban to fine-art, street-style to avant-garde gear, old-skool to nu-skool, game-changing musical-movements, the E.C’s got it covered!

Invitational rose petals had already been fluttering my way, from ‘The Shoreditch Fashion Show’… as described in my subsequent post ‘The Arts go OFF-the-BEAT-en Track’… However, the tokens of affection have continued to adorn my artistic pathways in the guise of such events as ‘The Other Art Fair’*, which was another world, the adjoining ‘Moniker Art Fair’ which was brain-crunchingly breath-taking.. and a one-off video-launch of the effortlessly vibrant ‘Alpha Romeo’, from one of electro-pop’s finest purveyors, M.T!

We begin the beguine, under the industrial roof of ‘The Old Truman Brewery’, where I was one amongst an intense, rush-hour-sequence of excited visitors, weaving their way along corridors, bearing the brilliance of a superlative spectrum of talent, expressed through exhibits of painstaking-perseverance and time-honoured, yet idiosyncratic, technique.

Like a theramin, my heart-strings were plucked by the invisible fingers of visual-art, as a domino of pieces from emerging and established portfolios, brimful of imagery, alike, fell into the open arms of my anticipation. The beauty of these East-London flora had me fluttering from genus-to-genus of urban, photographic, live, printed, filmic, painted, embroidered, collaged, stencilled and oh-so-fine art media! In fact, at every turn, so high a standard of work was on display, that I wondered just how the respective gallerists had chosen which of their artists to showcase. ‘Was this how it felt to choose a favourite amongst a brood of children?’ I wondered! Well, the joy for me, was that I didn’t have to select… I simply succumbed to this ever-more enticing visual fayre, in all of its beauteous glory and let my internal, creative-chorale decipher its own descant of mounted offerings!

Thus, the coloratura of crystallised global-landscapes of Jaykoe, gave way to semi-quavers of surreal photographic re-interpretations of water by Angelika Spranger, in turn, complemented by M.J. Forster’s sotto voce, watercolour wonder-world, followed by the crescendo of Matt Small’s multi-layered car-bonnet creations, Keira Rathbone’s staccato, type-writer-work, the ralentando of 3-D relief, by the outstanding Jo Peel, the harmonies of acute attention-to-detail, wielded by Mark Powell’s pen-art and a collaborative coda of riffs-on-black-and-white, as manifested by Zeus and T.L.P, in their transplantations of outdoor urban-landscapes to indoor art-scapes! A relentless downbeat of hip-hop sonically-booming through the space, often caused my senses to intensely focus-pull upon each moment and, as the days progressed, the revelation dawned that, in fact, each moment was a happening, waiting to unravel… It took a second visit, on a comparatively calm Sunday afternoon, for my own voice to add its bespoke grace-notes, the result of which, are wrapped within this written solo.

Gifts from East-London did not come in the shape of objets d’arts, alone! Oh no! Indeed, my promenade was to continue along the Ridley Road market, to a video-premiere party at a delightfully quirky Carmen-Miranda-esque establishment, by the name of ‘Wu’s’. At personal invitation of synth-pop supremos, ‘M.T’ (which stands for ‘Many Things’), and in defiance of the imminent arrival of Hurricane Jude, I accepted… Well, after all, it would have been Wu’d not to!!

At first glance, what with all of the stalls neatly-housed for the night, you would have been forgiven for wondering whether you had taken an errant turning but I had faith in my East-London chaperone and my faith was duly rewarded with an evening of all-consuming fun, in an intimate atmosphere of warmth and hearty welcomes, more akin to a close-knit family gathering than that of an inaugural video-preview of a critically-acclaimed musical outfit! From the outset, Michael, the lead singer, was the perfect host…A willowy figure, with shoulder-length, chestnut-brown hair and deep pools of super-friendly, yet intense, eyes, he cut a dash in a three-quarter camel mac, opened just enough, to reveal a loose, black, scoop-necked jumpsuit, with its long sleeves hinting at the overcoat’s cuffs. Affectionately-known to his friends as the ‘white, fluffy, cloud’ because of his love of wearing white on-stage, it was evident that his quiet humility had long-inspired many of whom made up the guests that night. As the venue became increasingly filled, I sensed that the overriding energy revolving around the room was of friendship, support and love. The video, was joyfully reflective of just such emotion, evolving from band close-ups, to an all-out party-scene, featuring many of the people in the amassed crowd.  As I left, amidst a flurry of hugs, I remember feeling as if I had been some long-lost member of the family, at a celebratory reunion!

I walked into a waiting evening of sullen storm-clouds, apt for precipitation, M.T’s ‘Alpha Romeo’ the more-than-welcome sonic invasion into my soul’s soundtrack and a heartfelt acknowledgment that, whilst the whirlwind-of-wooing was over, this was no fly-by-night notion of affection. On the contrary, yours truly had been veritably won-over by my dapper-gent that is East London and marks the renaissance of a relationship, the kind of which, I am certain, will last forever.

© AFROW2013-2019 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

www.monikerartfair.com : www.theotherartfair.com : www.pagetpr.com : www.mtmanythings.com

: www.facebook.com/ridleyroad (Wu’s)

*Heartfelt thanks to Paget PR for organising my invite to the amazing event!