It's time for the review of the year. (N.B. The wargames are right at the bottom for those who wish to skip the cultural bits.) One theme running through the year was Bradford 2025, City of Culture. I confess that I was somewhat sceptical before it started - I don't live in Bradford so was viewing it as an outsider - but I must say that I thought it was all very successful indeed. There were thousands of events, of which I went to a mere couple of dozen, albeit that they included most of the major ones, but had a good time when I did. 

Opera: I've seen 21 operas this year, one more than in 2024. For the second year running the best was a concert  performance of Simon Boccanegra, this time Opera North's contribution to Bradford 2025 at St George's Hall. Honourable mentions go to Owen Wingrave at the RNCM, Mozart's Impresario at the Buxton Festival and The Secret of the Black Spider by ON's youth company. The libretto for the last of those is a touch barking, which was also the case in various other productions seen this year. There was one in which one the characters was literally a turd, one in which someone fell in love with three oranges, one in which an AI powered robot took over the world (maybe because the Luddites had failed 200 years before, but then again maybe not), and one in which someone had to keep turning a handle to prevent the end of the world, but decided to take a bit of break instead.

Theatre: Seventeen plays this year, the best being The Railway Children, once again part of Bradford 2025. An honourable mention must go to Wise Children's North By Northwest, but other good stuff included Mary Poppins, Animal Farm and an odd but very enjoyable circus version of Tess of the D'Urbervilles.

Music: Only nine gigs this year, the best being Bywater Call. I am, as ever, contractually obliged to mention Martin Simpson and the same would be true for Fairport Convention except that shockingly I didn't see them. I do have a ticket for a gig in Harrogate in April, so normal service will be resumed this time next year.

Film: I saw 18 films this year, the most for many years. My favourite was the documentary Becoming Led Zeppelin, but the best non-documentary was probably Hamnet, which I saw at a festival although it doesn't officially come out in the UK until next week. I highly recommend it, but take some tissues. Other good stuff included The Ballad of Wallis Island, A Complete Unknown and Sunlight. The last of those is on very limited release, but catch it if you can. It was directed by Nina Conti, of whom more later. I also enjoyed The Choral which was of course not only filmed very locally to where I live, but also the screen play was by the very much still alive Alan Bennett.

Talks: Nine talks, the best of which was on William Morris and Islamic Art. It was a connection which is obvious when someone points it out but which I'm embarrassed to say had passed me by before.

Comedy: I went to sufficient comedy gigs to add a new category this year. The one I'm going to highlight is Nina Conti and, naturally, Monkey; very, very funny. The aforementioned film also features Monkey, but this time she's inside it. OK, I know she's inside the one in the picture below, but the film she's really inside it.

Exhibitions: I viewed a select number of exhibitions this year, i.e. not many at all. My favourite was certainly not the Turner Prize finalists show, which was inevitably terrible. I concur with those who say that the choice of the winner was nothing more than virtue-signalling. The best was probably We Will Sing at Salts Mill although next time I visit the top floor there I shall take the stairs more slowly. An honourable mention must go to Pigeobition in Keighley and that on gladiators at the Royal Armouries.

Books: I read 163 books in 2025, which is a good indication of how much of it was spent being ill. They include a large number of detective novels and thrillers from the past, perfect for not having to think very much. My favourite was a toss up between Passage of Arms by Eric Ambler or A Kiss Before Dying by Ira Levin. There were lots of the type of non-fiction books which are actually relevant to wargaming, but nothing leaps out as demanding recommendation. If I was forced to pick one it would be The Mexican Revolution: A Very Short Introduction by Alan Knight, but whether that is truly relevant to this particular blog is a moot point.

Boardgames: I logged 208 playings of 110 different games. I'll do a separate post on these, but my favourite game remains Dune Imperium and I continue to think that wargamers in general would like it.

Wargames: I managed 29 games in the year including half a dozen or so which I hosted in the annexe. Many of those were multi week games so all in all I spent quite a lot of time playing toy soldiers, which I have to say wasn't the way it felt at the time. Looking back I think the cowboys were what I enjoyed most; even more regression to childhood than usual.

Event of the Year: I lied, wargaming is not right at the bottom. I'm tempted to choose the carwash breaking down with car covered in lather with me inside. Having got out while the necessary fiddling with the controls was performed by the operative, I stayed outside until the wash completed. As I waited another car drew up behind me and the the look on the driver's face as I got back in and drove off was very amusing. He was obviously worried that he had been doing it wrong all his life. 

I also won £25 on the Premium Bonds, which is never to be sniffed at. However I'm going for the day I spent visiting the Andy Goldsworthy Hanging Stones in Rosedale, which now I think about it I could have included under the Exhibitions heading. Access is limited and the location is a bit remote, but it's a great combination of art and a walk in the Yorkshire countryside.. 

 It's the summer and, relatively unusually in the UK, it has been summery. I have therefore been out and about, but, finding myself briefly back in the Casa Epictetus, here's a catch-up.

I have been in Glasgow for the second time this year. I still can't understand a word that the natives say, but they seem friendly enough. I went inside a tenement building for the first time and found it to be disconcertingly up-market. Also for the first time I tried a haggis pakora, these days just as traditionally Scottish as tenements. Probably more noteworthy was that I travelled up via the Settle to Carlisle railway, which I had never been on before. It is every bit as scenic as I had been led to believe it would be.

Two things about that photo. Firstly, you can't really see that view from the train itself; for that you're much better off walking the area, which I have done many times. Secondly, I didn't travel on a steam train. I did do so however when I went to see 'The Railway Children', part of the ongoing Bradford 2025 City of Culture programme. The film, the original with Jenny Agutter rather than the remake, which confusingly also featured Jenny Agutter albeit in a different role (*), was shot on the Keighley and Worth Valley Railway (**) and so the day started with a trip from Keighley to Oxenhope on a train pulled by the very same engine saved from disaster by Jenny's red bloomers. Then, in what I assume is an engine shed with a few tiers of seats installed on either side, the performance took place. The action took place mostly on small platforms being pushed backwards and forwards along the track by stage hands. At the climactic moment a steam locomotive suddenly shot into the theatre. Most impressive.

You won't be able to see that because the entire run is sold out. You may however be able to catch 'The Ceremony', although I don't expect it to get a particularly wide release. In my previous post I observed that I had never been to a première; lo and behold, I now have and a Gala Première at that. The shine was slightly taken off things when we reached the end of the red carpet to be greeted by an officious lady with a clipboard who told us, quite accurately, that we weren't on the guest list and should have used the side entrance with all the other ordinary punters. However, by the time she had finished speaking my companion for the evening had already liberated a glass of fizz from a passing waiter and so it was all a bit moot. I very much enjoyed the film, most of which took place not very far from the Ribblehead viaduct pictured up above. It was extremely well acted, visually striking and quite tense. What is it about? Fair question; possibly the fact that there is good and bad in all of us. If you do go and see it then I'd be interested in your view of what all the quasi-mystical stuff with the goat (***) is about.

*      The sequel to the original was also shot on the KWVR and, inevitably starred Ms Agutter, who apparently thereby claimed the record for the longest gap between playing the same character in films.

**    Both Keighley and the Worth valley are part of Bradford

*** It might actually be a ram, reviewers are divided on the subject. 

 In my last post I said that the opening scene of 'Owen Wingrave' contained a reference to Austerlitz. I nearly made a smug comment to the effect that I was probably the only person in the audience that picked it up. Two things stopped me. Firstly, the realisation that I was probably the only person in the audience that cared at all. And secondly, the possibility that I might have deduced the wrong battle anyway. There was no mention of the battle by name, simply a few oblique clues. One of these was the name of General Vandamme.

As it happens the villain in Hitchcock's 'North by Northwest', played by James Mason, is also Vandamm - no 'e', but close enough.

Two days before seeing the opera, I went to see Wise Children's stage version of the film, and am happy to report a return to form for the company. It's a whimsical crowd-pleaser rather than a straight thriller, but there is intelligence in the way that verbal humour, physical comedy and audience interaction are substituted for the darkness of the original. And then there's the action scenes. The film featured locations such as the UN building, various trains and stations, a cornfield being buzzed by a crop-spraying aircraft and, of course, Mount Rushmore; all are transposed to the stage with imagination and invention. It's well worth seeing.

Fact of the day: Eva Marie Saint, who played Eve Kendall in the 1959 film is, astonishingly, still alive and is the oldest living Academy Award winner.

 "When affairs get into a real tangle, it is best to sit still and let them straighten themselves out. Or, if one does not do that, simply to think no more about them. This is Philosophy." 

- P. G. Wodehouse

It's review of the year time. I didn't do one last year because the illness that has plagued me on and off in 2024 started with unlooked for precision on 29th December 2023. That's bad news for posterity, because I had a lot to write about and would no doubt have done so most entertainingly. This year has seen a much reduced programme of activities. Apart from funerals; I don't think I've ever been to so many in such a short space of time.  I won't write about those.

Opera: I've only seen sixteen operas this year. The clear best among them was the Hallé's 1857 'Simon Boccanegra', with a nod to 'Aleko'. Of those I've not bothered to mention here before my favourites would include 'The Sign of Four', apparently the first opera ever written about Sherlock Holmes, Albert Herring, and Peter Brook's take on Carmen at the Buxton Opera Festival.

Theatre: Only twelve plays, so another drop year on year. Best was 'My Fair Lady' of all things. Even more surprising was my enjoyment of  'A Midsummer Night's Dream' at York Theatre Royal, with a genuine circus clown as Bottom. This blog normally has a strict 'clowns are not funny' policy. Perhaps as another sign of change I went to two comedy gigs for the first time in decades. 

Music: I saw eighteen gigs, so maybe that's why I couldn't find time to go to the theatre. Best were the mighty Southern River Band, but also excellent were Mississippi Macdonald, Brave Rival, the Milkmen, Errol Linton, the Zombies and others too numerous to mention; except that I am contractually obliged to mention both Martin Simpson and Fairport Convention.

 “Barry, you're over thirty years old. You owe it to your mum and dad not to sing in a group called Sonic Death Monkey.” - Nick Hornby, High Fidelity

I rather enjoyed 'High Fidelity' the novel, not least because it was located in a time and place of which I had direct personal experience (*). I didn't care for the film version because, in a classic case of cultural appropriation, the producers relocated it somewhere else so that they could make more money. Perhaps enough time has passed for it to be worth re-reading and/or re-watching. From memory alone therefore, the Barry character (**) wants to be in a band, but in the end only gets to be in one because those who invite him have decided that all the members have to be called Barry (***).

The chap singing the music in yesterday's video was Barry Booth. He had quite a career and worked with some very well known names, many of whom are listed on his website, the biography section of which is quite amusing (****). Whilst he sadly never seems to have worked with Gibb, White or Manilow, he has collaborated with a couple of aptly named non-musicians, Barry Cryer (appearing not for the first time here) and Barry Fantoni, which whom he wrote a musical.

A week or so ago I went to see Barry Rutter, another figure to have featured in this blog before, speaking about "Shakespeare's Royals". In between giving the full-throttle, chewing the scenery, performances for which he is known and loved, he told several anecdotes. I was personally very interested in the background to a production I saw some years ago, but perhaps the most amusing concerned a backstage encounter he had in New York once with both Dizzy Gillespie and Rudolf Nureyev. Many years after that, Gillespie and Nureyev both died on the same day. Rutter quoted to us the 'In Memoriam' poem composed for the occasion by E.J Thribb, aged 17 and a half.

"So Farewell then … Dizzy Gillespie
Famous Jazz Trumpeter.
You were known for your Bulging Cheeks.
Rudolf Nureyev,
So were you."

 “This lasted longer than I could describe even if I wrote pages and pages about it.” - C.S. Lewis

Someone has very kindly asked after my health. I am much recovered, possibly up to more or less what passes for 100% with me. The one thing that I still can't do is spend much time at a computer screen so, to everyone's relief, blog posts will continue to be infrequent. In other areas of my life I have thankfully managed to return to full man-about-town mode, including catching the current touring production of 'Oh! What A Lovely War', which I very much enjoyed and highly recommend should it come near you.

A talented group of actor-musicians absolutely nail the production's mix of broad comedy, satire and tragedy. If you've seen the film you'll know that the attribution of blame is not especially nuanced, but sadly what the piece has to say about the futility of war is as relevant today as it was then.

 And so to the opera. Earlier in the summer I went to see 'In Dreams', a musical using songs by or associated with Roy Orbison. It was very, very good and I'm not entirely sure why I never wrote about it at the time. It was set in New Mexico and many of the characters were of Mexican origin; inevitably the 'Day of the Dead' loomed large. The reason I mention it now is that I have been to see the first production in the UK of 'Frida', the opera by Robert Rodriguez portraying the life of the painter Frida Kahlo and, sure enough...

photo credit Rhian Hughes

I don't know how accurate the retelling of her story was. I have always taken issue with the widespread assumption that she was overlooked as a painter because she was a woman; given that her husband, Diego Rivera, was a far superior artist (*) it is at least possible that the only reason for her being so well known is actually because she's a woman. Based on the version told in the opera the thing we should most admire her for is the overcoming of innumerable physical disabilities and illnesses. In any event, what happens here - and I've no idea whether it happened in real life - is that her success comes about because Rivera sells several of her paintings to Edward G. Robinson rather than selling his own. Robinson is one of a number of eclectic characters who pop up, including Henry Ford, Nelson D. Rockefeller and of course the Trotskys. The latter give rise to a slightly odd design choice; when Natalia Trotsky first appears she is wearing a fur hat, presumably to underline just how Russian she is rather than it being strictly necessary under the Mexican sun. 

I enjoyed it all immensely. Any show that contains marching soldaderas carrying banners saying 'Tierra y Libertad' and singing 'Long live Zapata' is going to be OK with me. Add on to that a bus crashing into a tram and the assassination of Trotsky and you have all the makings of a good night out.

* In your bloggist's opinion obviously.

 And so to the opera. I have been out and about for the last week or so, including a brief trip to Glasgow, to which I may return in due course. But most of my time has been spent at the Buxton International Festival, specifically the opera part of it. 

The best thing I saw was an excellent production of Bellini's 'La sonnambula', which transcended the original sexist power set-up in a rather novel, and much appreciated by the audience, twist at the end. Set in a sixties staff canteen - more 'Made in Dagenham' than 'Dinnerladies' - the period details were finely judged; Lisa dropped more than her handkerchief following the arrival of the mysterious stranger. Both musically and dramatically it was very good indeed.

I was less taken with performances of Mozart's 'Il re pastore' and Handel's 'Orlando', although as I'm never likely to get the chance to see either again I am glad that I was able to on this occasion. The singing and playing was very good, but the operas are somewhat slight, especially dramatically. Alexander the Great appears in the Mozart piece and was played as Napoleon, which was amusing even if the characterisation was mainly displayed by him wearing his bicorne sideways. If neither of those pieces gave one the opportunity to be emotionally invested in what was going on on stage that was made up for in the musical 'The Land of Might-Have-Been', in which the story of Vera Brittain in the First World War was told accompanied by, mainly, the songs of Ivor Novello. I thought it all worked rather well, albeit being very reminiscent of many similarly toned plays I saw between 2014 and 2018 as the centenary of the war which didn't end all wars was commemorated. Still, I hope the story of the losses and sacrifices and futility of those years never ceases to have an impact on me, and it certainly did this time. 

 My absence from the blogosphere has not been entirely due to scorchio, my broadband hasn't been working properly either. Obviously too much has happened in the Casa Epictetus during that time to include all of it in detail here. Most notably there was a visit from the blog's Luxembourg correspondent involving food and drink aplenty and an erudite conversation which ranged from Qatargate to the dynamic pricing of tickets for Springsteen's Munich concert via Piltdown Man. There has also been a variety of musical and theatre entertainment of equally varying qualities. But you're all here for the wargaming.

First up was a run out for James' new Spanish Army for the Peninsular war. Given that they were newly painted and that they were Spanish troops in the Peninsular war, they inevitably ran away. But quite a bit of luck with the dominoes meant that they hung in there for longer than anticipated and a good time was had by all. The picture above shows a Spanish cavalry unit which having unexpectedly routed their opposition in melee were then effectively destroyed by what seemed to your bloggist to be a very harsh pursuit check rule. 

Next up was the battle of Harran using To the Strongest!, the outcome of which was a defeat for the forces of Outremer, just like the original. The photo is of Bohemund, who despite being the main hope on his side never really got going. A combination of the Armenians to his left suddenly going into an uncontrolled advance - which unsurprisingly ended in disaster - and me constantly choosing the wrong order in which to activate commands, took away all his room for manoeuvre. Not that Baldwin or Tancred did any better mind you. It was a very bad day for the forces of Edessa and Antioch.

 “Don’t repeat yourself. It’s not only repetitive, it’s redundant, and people have heard it before.” 

-Lemony Snicket

The lack of posts here is not because I begrudge the time to write them, or indeed the sheer hard work necessary to maintain the high standards for which this blog is known. It's not even because I'm not doing stuff, it's more that I've not only done that stuff before, but increasingly I have also written about doing it before.

One area in which that doesn't particularly apply is boardgaming, where I have played a fair number of new-to-me games recently, and I shall return to that subject shortly. One of those games had a Wars of the Roses theme, which reminds me that the new version of Kingmaker was released last week. It looks good in the photos and some of the revisions seen intriguing - pre-packed factions for example. However, the estimated playing time is up to five hours, and that alone means that I shan't be bothering.

Anyway, back to stuff I've done before and have now done again. Firstly there was the Stephen Daldry production of 'An Inspector Calls', which was just as good as ever. Secondly there was Walter Trout, who was...etc. etc. Trout, who looks in remarkably good nick for a man in his seventies with a transplanted liver, played at the King's Hall in Ilkley and rather bemused the audience by referring to the great views as the band drove over the mountains to the town. The views are indeed great, but you would have thought that someone from a country where they really do have mountains would have spotted that Ilkley Moor is relatively low rise. 

Last but not least there's wargaming, where we trotted out that old favourite Möckern. Actually, it's not particularly a favourite of mine; the French always win. However, there aren't that many published scenarios for Epic C&C Napoleonics, and even fewer for which I have the figures. On top of that I already have the map and OOB printed and to hand so laziness won out. It still gave an enjoyable game though. I shall only include the one photo, but it does show the defining moment of the evening. For those not familiar with the Epic rules, two cards are played each turn; one from your hand and one from a shared tableau. Peter, playing the French, chose Cavalry Charge from the table and followed up with Bayonet Charge from his hand. If you're going to play, play aggressively. 

 All this talk of politics reminds me that I have been to see the Royal Shakespeare Company's current touring version of 'Julius Caesar'. I've always seen the play as being about what sacrifices one is willing to make in order to achieve political success. In Shakespeare's view such sacrifices are always those of other people rather than oneself, starting with one's enemies but when push comes to shove also including one's friends and allies. It was a fairly average production although I did think that the assassination itself was done very well.

I've also been to see 'Pride & Prejudice (sort of)', Isobel McArthur's very funny adaptation of the Jane Austen classic. I'd seen it before, it was one of the last things I'd been to before the first lockdown, and if anything it was even better this time round. I highly recommend it if you get a chance.

Also very funny was Alan Bennett, reading from his diaries and answering questions on subjects ranging from T.S. Eliot to the ironmongers of Settle via a rant about the current government for which he got a rousing round of applause. Mind you, he also got clapped when he said that he always lays down on the floor when Jehovah's Witnesses knock on his door. He's a genius, although you don't need me to tell you that. He's 89 today; so happy birthday to him.

 There's been no wargaming for a while, but we shall hopefully be be back in action in the annexe this week. The blog has also been a bit quiet, although I can report that the mystery viewer has stopped looking at the post which I mentioned before and started looking at this one instead; several times a day as with the first example. I flatter myself that the new target of his/her/its attentions is somewhat less boring that the other one, but even so...

In my absence I have been painting the cultural quarter of the town red; it's the time of the year for both opera and Fairport Convention. I also saw Hayley Mills performing on stage, an actor who was a star before I was born, and I am certainly not young. Add to that a very interesting lecture on Weights and Measures and you can understand my not finding the time to post anything here.

None of the above involved any of the following people, but I do like me some John Lee Hooker:

It's time for the review of the year. It was a terrible year for the world in many ways of course. In addition for me there were bereavements and funerals, but I'm afraid that is inevitable as one ages. On the plus side, the year did contain much to amuse those of us with an interest in UK politics; indeed my most read post of the year was this one. While the pandemic now seems a long time ago I found that my caution about crowded places was slow to abate. I may now be back at full flâneur level, but at the start of the year my diary wasn't so full. In any event, what did get done may be appearing here for the first time as I have been remiss in writing about culture in the blog, or indeed writing about much at all.

Opera: I saw eighteen operas this year, which is getting back close to normal levels. Top marks has to go to 'Orpheus Reimagined'. In the words of Opera North this 'melds the music of Monteverdi’s 1607 opera 'Orfeo' with brand new music by composer and virtuoso sitar player Jasdeep Singh Degun. Together, he and early music specialist Laurence Cummings lead a cast starring some of the best Indian classical and European baroque musicians in the UK'. I thought it was sensational. Also well worth a mention was Krenek's 'Der Diktator', both very timely in its subject matter and accompanied by a fascinating post-performance discussion about the nature of authoritarian leaders.

Theatre: I saw twenty nine plays (compared to four in 2021), which once again is somewhat more like it. Best was 'The Book of Mormon' with an honourable mention for Julian Clarey and Matthew Kelly in 'The Dresser and for 'The Corn is Green' at the National Theatre. Seven of those were Shakespeare, of which the best was 'Henry VIII' at The Globe.

Music: I went to sixteen gigs, a big improvement on 2021's four. However the best was once again Martin Simpson, so that didn't change. The best excluding the maestro was probably Errol Linton. It goes without saying that to see Connie Kreitmeier in the flesh was a highlight as well.

Film: Without doubt the best film I saw was 'Hallelujah', the documentary about Leonard Cohen, which I highly recommend. The best non-documentary was 'The Harder They Come', starring Jimmy Cliff, released back into cinemas to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of its initial release plus, of course, the sixtieth anniversary of Jamaican independence. The best current offering was 'Official Competition', which was brilliant, but both in Spanish and on rather limited release. If pressed to choose a mainstream film the one I'd recommend the most is, I think, 'The Duke', but with a nod to 'Belfast'.

Talks: I attended twenty seven talks this year, the best of which was on the subject of J.B. Priestley's time in Hollywood. Apparently his regular drinking partners whilst there were Groucho Marx and Charlie Chaplin, which would have been a pub crawl worth tagging along with I think.

Books: I have read 101 books, which is fewer than the previous year, but then again I went out more. The best fiction was Mikhail Bulgakov's 'The White Guard' with an honourable mention for  'Minty Alley', by C.L.R James. I fully appreciate that neither of those is terribly modern. Best non-fiction was 'Wagner and Philosophy' by Bryan Magee. Best non-fiction that was in any way related to the ostensible purpose of this blog was John Buckley's highly entertaining 'The Armchair General'.

Boardgames: I played 57 different games 157 times, so that's a healthy increase. I've reported on them elsewhere so I'll say no more here.

Wargames: By my reckoning I played around thirty games, many of which spread over two or three evenings. My favourite was 'Flashing Blades' at the Lard Workshop, which as I said at the time was a cracking little game. I am happy to have a go at any rules or period really and enjoyed a number of new ones this year. I found 'DBN' rather entertaining, and while I never really warmed to 'Soldiers of Napoleon' they did include some nice ideas; what they are not is a multi-player game. Probably the most disappointing new-to-me set was 'Rommel', which just didn't seem to grab any of us; perhaps it would have been better if we had used them to refight Sidi Rezegh. The rules/period which I personally would most like to revisit in 2023 is 'Jump or Burn'. Back in March James told us all to think of names for our pilots as we were just about to start a campaign, following which the planes were never seen again.

Exhibitions: The first new award category for a few years. I'm think the highlight was Walter Sickert retrospective at Tate Britain, with a special mention for the British Museum's fine exploration of the history and context of Stonehenge. 

Event of the Year: There were a few contenders. Clearly returning home to find the house full of smoke and my spare bedroom in flames must be one possibility, as was the failure of International Pigeon Rescue to mobilise their Otley branch following an emergency call by one of my occasional companions after she found an injured bird in my back garden. However, I am going for the rather tasty old-school fight on the X84 bus, which transported me momentarily back to my youth, when such things were commonplace.

For 2023 I wish us all, more than ever, love in a peaceful world.

 “Oh well, bears will be bears,” said Mr Brown.” - Michael Bond

There are a surprising number of plays which call for a bear to appear on stage: 'A Winter's Tale' probably being the most well known. Usually, and for obvious reasons, they are represented by some technical trickery such as back projection. In a version of Philip Pullman's ' His Dark Materials' that I saw many years ago the actors playing the polar bears wore very large, but non-naturalistic head gear which worked well. In my review of Cavalli's 'La Calisto' I mention that they rendered the bear very effectively, without bothering to include the detail of exactly how they did it. Presumably I assumed my memory would be sufficient; it isn't. Why am I reminiscing about ursine theatrics? Because I've just seen a bear on stage that was far superior to any other that I have ever seen. I'd like at this point to include a picture of it, but I can't find one online so this one will have to do.

And the play? It was 'Guy Fawkes', guess what's in the barrels in the background there. Now, I don't claim to be an expert on the Gunpowder Plot, but I think all readers in the UK at least will be familiar with the basics of the story, which after all gets trotted out annually. Those basics have, in my case at least, until now excluded the bit about the bear. Still, thankfully one is never too old to learn something new.

The play may have been, shall we say, creative, but wasn't really very good. It did however make me laugh sufficient times to make me glad I went. And that is essentially the problem; they did it as a comedy. Which, when your subject matter is the plotting of a terrorist act intended to cause mass slaughter after which the protagonists are tortured and then hung, drawn and quartered, is to set oneself a difficult task. The author went for treating it as drunken pub talk that got out of hand; it didn't work. But, as I mentioned before, the bear was good.

 "A strong woman is a woman determined to do something others are determined not be done" 

- Marge Piercy

Yesterday's post ended with a reference to Catherine of Aragon and - is it planned? is it coincidence? - it was that queen, as portrayed by Bea Segura, who stole the show in 'Henry VIII' at the Globe a couple of weeks ago. In fact the Spanish actress was the only good thing about it, it being all too clear why no one ever puts on this collaboration between Shakespeare and John Fletcher. I'd certainly never seen it before and couldn't have told you anything about it beyond the fact that it was an accident with a cannon on the opening night that led to the burning down of the original Globe. This production gave a co-writing credit to Hannah Khalil who had been tasked with making it focussed more on the female characters. She did this by importing lines from other plays and poetry by Shakespeare and giving them to Catherine, Princess Mary and Ann Bullen (sic). I'm not entirely sure it worked, because hearing Mary speak lines which one knew really belonged to Lear just made me wish I was watching that play instead. Anyway, Segura was great as a woman determined not to be pushed aside for the convenience of others and it was good to be back in the Globe again after it had been forced to close by the plague.

Much better was 'The Corn Is Green' at the National Theatre, although as it cost literally a dozen times as much to watch then so it should have been. This semi-autobiographical piece by Emlyn Williams about a poor child from a Welsh-speaking mining community being mentored by an inspirational teacher and eventually winning a scholarship to Oxford, was heart-warming without being sickly sweet. Even a stage full of miners, faces blacked with coal dust and singing hymns, seemed to work in context. Nicola Walker as Miss Moffat, overcoming the class and gender prejudices ranged against her, was excellent. The evening also provided something I'd never seen before when the backstage machinery to bring the set on for the second half malfunctioned, and so the actors simply performed with a third of the stage bare. The show must go on. 

The third really good performance of a strong woman that I have seen recently was that of Bettrys Jones, as Ellen Wilkinson, in Caroline Bird's 'Red Ellen'. Wilkinson was the only female Labour MP elected in the October 1924 election, served in the wartime coalition government and was the second ever female cabinet member as Minister for Education under Attlee, before her untimely death in 1947. There's a lot to fit in, from the Jarrow March to the Spanish Civil War, and the staging if pacey, with lots of set and costume changes occurring before our eyes. A host of supporting characters are played by the small cast - including Einstein, Hemingway, Churchill and Herbert Morrison - but the focus is always on Ellen herself, who is never offstage. 

As the programme says: forever on the right side of history, forever on the wrong side of life.

 Life carries on here much as usual: BT have given me another seemingly arbitrarily precise compensation payment, £26.24 this time; another family of mice have appeared, necessitating more poison to be laid out; I have spent an inordinate amount of time in the dentist's chair due to problems with decades old crowns; and I have ordered another set of rules for the Mexican Revolution, despite it being a period which I never intend to game. I shall no doubt return to the last of those when they turn up.

I mentioned in a recent post that 'The Book of Mormon' contained songs on all sorts of potentially offensive subjects. I have now been to see the much more mainstream 'Sweeney Todd' - by the late, great Stephen Sondheim - and find that much of the lyrical content is about murder and cannibalism, so not offensive at all. It was very good though.

I've also been to see Steeleye Span's 50th anniversary tour. The band are, as Maddy Prior pointed out, a 'Ship of Theseus' with not many original members remaining. Indeed two of those in the official 2022 tour photograph above weren't there. Still, they were also very good. [Note to self: see if you can think of some more exciting descriptive words before writing your next review] Anyway, being folk music, the lyrical content was all a bit grim: cruel killings, seduction and abandonment of innocent maidens who then perish, hauntings by headless monsters etc. There seems to be a bit of theme developing here.

Musicians often refer on stage to others they have interacted with. Recently Nick Lowe spoke about Mavis Staples, which certainly impressed me. Maddy Prior out-namedropped them all by telling us what the Queen said to her, which was apparently: "Such jolly tunes". Still, if my ancestors had carried on in the same way as those of Her Maj, then I might also have a different threshold as to what constituted 'jolly'.

 And so to the theatre. I have been to see 'The Book of Mormon', and laughed continuously from beginning to end. It's hilarious.

 I'm finding it difficult to get any wargaming momentum going for some reason. Painting has slowly progressed on the new siege works resin castings. For undercoat and base coat I used those 120ml tubes of acrylic paint (orange and burnt umber respectively since you ask) that you can pick up cheaply in variety retailers . The shop I usually frequent in Otley is known by everyone as Captain Value, although they foolishly changed the name to something else a few years ago. One of the delays to the project was caused by running out of the brown when I had painted one end of all the pieces. As the replacement burnt umber was a different make and a completely different shade it all looks a bit odd now I've painted the other halves. Still, I am sure my dry brushing and blending skills will be up to the challenge.

Culture and boardgaming have been a bit more fruitful, and I may return to both. I must mention 'Nothing Happens (Twice)', which is out on tour at the moment and which I'd recommend. The title is a obviously a reference to 'Waiting for Godot', and the autobiographical piece covers the ultimately unsuccessful attempt by two young Spanish actresses to obtain the performance rights from the Beckett  estate, via a stint dressed as flamingos in a shopping centre on behalf of the Andalusian tourist board. It's very entertaining and actually contains a largish slug of the original under the 'fair dealing' provisions of copyright.

I'm always on the look out for something spiritually uplifting, and so I have been listening to a three CD set entitled 'Drink Drugs Sex'. Picking out one of those CDs entirely at random, here's a track from the third one, Blind Boy Fuller with 'Sweet Honey Hole':

 

 And so to the theatre, to see Macbeth. Reading this post's title one might be forgiven for thinking that in the director has given the Thane of Fife a UB40 rather than his being driven into exile and having his family slaughtered as Shakespeare originally intended. However, what I am clumsily attempting to describe is the production's inclusivity and accessibility, with both Macduff and his wife being played by deaf actors. They signed, with their lines being interpreted into speech via other actors, primarily Lennox. I thought that all worked rather well and avoided the obvious trap of it all coming across as a bit "What's that you say Skippy? There's a man trapped in the abandoned mine? And you were from your mother's womb untimely ripped?".

"Tyrant, show thy face!"

In fact Adam Bassett's display of grief when told of the death of his wife and children showed that great acting doesn't require words. The lines of the rest of the cast were, at the performance I attended, signed by an interpreter costumed and integral to the action rather than standing to the side of the stage, and much thought had clearly been given to the physical gestures which each speaker used to accompany the blank verse. One of the assistant directors is blind, and much was also made of how it would work for unsighted members of the audience. I'm afraid I don't think that aspect worked anything like as well. 

Overall it was good, with particular credit to Jessica Baglow's Lady Macbeth and to the choreographers of the battle scenes. The set, featuring an enormous working drawbridge, was also rather impressive.

As it happens, in January I saw the recent film version starring Denzel Washington and Frances McDormand. Their ages (Washington, nominated for best actor, is even older than your bloggist, though sadly for him he doesn't seem to have aged as well as me) impel a different dynamic to the marital relationship, and one that worked a bit better for me.  I felt the film, with its obvious references to German expressionist cinema, the superior of the versions, but am glad to have seen both.

 I mentioned in a recent post that this is a time of year for tradition. The context when I wrote it was that I found myself, not for the first time, suffering a dental problem at a time of year when one can't get an appointment with a dentist. That has been swiftly followed by my central heating playing up at a time of year when one can't get hold of a plumber, again not without precedent. So, in order to try to keep warm by typing frantically I am going to revive the annual review of the year, which I couldn't be bothered to do last year. There has certainly been a little bit more to look back over this year, and thankfully quality was mostly high even where quantity was not.

Opera: I saw nine, plus a ballet, and I'm going to give top spot to Opera North's socially distanced 'Fidelio', in large part because it was the first that I had seen for a long time and because it's about freedom. I must give an honourable mention to 'A Little Night Music' in the year that Sondheim died, plus Mahler's 2nd Symphony. I know that's not an opera, but it's my list.

Theatre: I only saw four plays, and the best was 'Wuthering Heights' by the Wise Children company. I note that I also rated them the best in 2019. This production is transferring to the National Theatre in February; you should go. Incidentally, had I bothered to give my views for 2020 the top spot would have been shared between 'Kneehigh's Ubu' and 'Pride and Prejudice* (*Sort of)'. The former starred the wonderful Katy Owen as Pere Ubu, and she also featured prominently in 'Wuthering Heights'; the latter is also just about to open in London's West End and, once gain, I would urge anyone within striking distance to go and see it.

Music: A paltry two gigs to choose from, and I'm going with Martin Simpson, again largely because it was the first in a long time for him as well as me. There might be more of that line of thought in these lists.

Film: A mere three films in the cinema, and the jury has decided to withhold the prize for this year. One of the three was the Bond film: what a load of old tosh, although I did rather enjoy the action sequence in the Italian village near the beginning.

Talks: Talks mainly moved online, and I moved with them. I saw twenty nine, only two of which were in person. The best I think was one on building ventilation given by a member of the government's SAGE advisory committee; I may live the rest of my life outdoors. On a less gloomy note, I very much enjoyed the Royal Armouries talk on 'The Life and Career of Captain William Dawson RN'. The worst talk by some way was 'The Jewellery of Downton Abbey'; what was I thinking?

Books: I read 118 books, it clearly being something that one can do without leaving home. Books of the year were: for fiction 'The Good Soldier Švejk'; and for non-fiction David Hepworth's '1971' about rock music's greatest year.

Boardgames: Apart from the expansion to 'Maquis' - where I'm sorry to say that the French Resistance is not prospering under my leadership - I have only played two-player games. Of those I played 14 different games 84 times. I think I might do a separate post about which of those I would recommend. The local boardgaming club has resumed weekly sessions, and I trust that at some point in 2022 circumstances will be such that I feel comfortable in joining them.

Wargames: I think there were ten wargames played or umpired, although this seems to be the one area where my compulsion to keep records doesn't apply. They were mainly Piquet and its variants except for one game of To the Strongest! and one of X-wing. I enjoyed them all but probably for me the siege games had the edge; possibly because the rules gave a much more enjoyable game for the defender than I thought they would when I read them. During lockdown I have built up a mighty pile of new, unplayed rules and would hope that: a) I can get one or more of them to table in 2022; and b) they work half as well as these did. It was good to see Mark back on a regular basis as well.

Event of the Year: I am very tempted by the time I saw armed police intervening in a queue jumping dispute in a branch of Greggs, which for some reason I neglected to post about at the time. However, really it has to be the first wargame after a hiatus of more than a year. Just because.

I wish you all love in a peaceful world.