Steven Thomson, Glasgay! producer was today awarded 22nd place in Scotland's HOT 100 of 2009 by THE LIST MAGAZINE. What a great vote of confidence for the festival, the city of Glasgow and Scotland.
more details http://www.thelist.co.uk
"22nd place: Steven Thomson Glasgay! director
Whether it was the extended funding that allowed him to commission work in advance, or the media furore that led to him personally defending the work of festival artist Dani Marti, Thomson’s Glasgay! programme this year was relevant, exciting and incisive. Getting political suits him."
Published 17Dec2009
online archive of current press
Thursday, 17 December 2009
Wednesday, 9 December 2009
GLASGAY! 2009 HITS THE HIGH NOTES
PRESS RELEASE
Glasgay!, one of Scotland's leading Arts Festivals, celebrates the major success of its 2009 festival today with the release of the attendance figures for this year's smash-hit programme. The festival took place between 3 Sep-8 Nov 2009 in Glasgow, Scotland.
Despite the most significant credit crunch of the last century the Glasgay! festival played to sell-out audiences and its exhibitions and some performances made headlines internationally, hitting nearly three-quarters of million websites and blogs worldwide. The festival doubled its audience on prior years and received four and five star critiques for its top quality Commissioned Productions, the most popular of which was a total sell-out smash hit, THE MAW BROON MONOLOGUES by Jackie Kay.
In an excellent programme that was both popular and edgy it generated a huge amount of social commentary and continued to highlight prejudice, discrimination and inequality. Glasgay! remains one of the most vital engines for social justice and equality and this year was exceptional in its ability to galvanise support for its events.
As a truly international celebration of the strength of LGBT community Glasgay! enjoys the support of a broad audience, not just LGBT. Glasgay! puts Glasgow and Scotland on the map as a vibrant and safe destination for international visitors - a mission, which over the next five years, as the city heads towards the Commonwealth Games, cannot be underestimated or undervalued.
As actor, Alan Cumming, said of the festival "Being part of the gay population is great: you're part of a legacy of amazing creativity and revolutionary cultural achievements. But you're also in a minority that is still struggling to show to those outside it what your experience really is, and gain their respect for it. That's where Glasgay! comes in: a festival to celebrate and encourage gay artists and make their work more visible to the mainstream and gain their respect for it. A chance for gay people to come together, and for straight people to enjoy what all the fuss is about. And it all happens in Glasgow, the city where everyone has a voice, everyone has an opinion and everyone has a laugh."
GLASGAY! RESULTS
• Audience attendance was 36,207 attenders. This was more than double the previous year (14,890 in 2008) • 168 days of performances at 78% of capacity • Four and Five star reviews four all of our top Commissioned product. (see selected press quotes below) • TV, Radio, blogs and international coverage of our events reaching nearly three quarters of a million websites worldwide • Press Coverage at £0.5million in advertising equivalent value • Turnover approaching £225,000k • Increased sponsorship and donations • 60% attenders from Glasgow, 15% adjacent, 9% rest of Scotland, 14% overseas; 3% England. A significant rise in out-of-town and international visitors.
Selected press quotes from 2009 ....
“The work here is strong enough to be seen anywhere.” Public Art Scotland
“a festival to celebrate and encourage gay artists and make their work more visible to the mainstream and gain their respect for it.” BNET UK
“Glasgay is one of the most well-regarded LGBT arts events in the UK.” Pink News
“Glasgay! Festival gets bigger and better every year.” The List
“It's why festivals like Glasgay! are so good. It's why the city itself is so fine.” Scotland on Sunday
“Glasgay is one of the most well-regarded LGBT arts events in the UK.” Pink News
“THINK OF Glasgay! – Glasgow's annual celebration of queer culture – and lots of things come to mind: visual razzle-dazzle, cutting-edge performance art, and passionate reworkings of classic texts by gay writers.” The Scotsman
“Glasgay!, still has the radical energy that has made the festival worth talking about since its advent. Fortunately, its the UK's leading LGBT festival" The Skinny
“If Maw Broon stood for prime minister, how refreshing would that be? We would have a different Britain altogether.” The Times
“Glasgay! Is an increasingly huge force on Scotland’s cultural scene.” The List
“Glasgay!, Scotland’s annual celebration of queer culture, returns this year with a brimful of top-notch entertainment and thought provoking delights for all those north of the border.” Attitude
“Glasgow is celebrated the world over. Its a city where it hipsters, fashion designers and muso types prance around in skinny jeans with silly haircuts. Its why festivals like Glasgay! are so good” Scotland on Sunday
“A Child Made Of Love-commissioned by Glasgay! Is raw, clever and disturbing, and we will be hearing much more of it in years to come” The Scotsman
“Louise Welsh’s new play Memory Cells, co-commissioned by Glasgay! Festival offers a tremendous, tragic vividness.” The Scotsman
“It could only be Glasgay! Scotland’s LGBT arts festival, and this year it is bigger and more ambitious than ever” Scotland on Sunday
http://www.glasgay.co.uk
Next Festival Dates 7 Oct - 7 Nov 2010
Glasgay!, one of Scotland's leading Arts Festivals, celebrates the major success of its 2009 festival today with the release of the attendance figures for this year's smash-hit programme. The festival took place between 3 Sep-8 Nov 2009 in Glasgow, Scotland.
Despite the most significant credit crunch of the last century the Glasgay! festival played to sell-out audiences and its exhibitions and some performances made headlines internationally, hitting nearly three-quarters of million websites and blogs worldwide. The festival doubled its audience on prior years and received four and five star critiques for its top quality Commissioned Productions, the most popular of which was a total sell-out smash hit, THE MAW BROON MONOLOGUES by Jackie Kay.
In an excellent programme that was both popular and edgy it generated a huge amount of social commentary and continued to highlight prejudice, discrimination and inequality. Glasgay! remains one of the most vital engines for social justice and equality and this year was exceptional in its ability to galvanise support for its events.
As a truly international celebration of the strength of LGBT community Glasgay! enjoys the support of a broad audience, not just LGBT. Glasgay! puts Glasgow and Scotland on the map as a vibrant and safe destination for international visitors - a mission, which over the next five years, as the city heads towards the Commonwealth Games, cannot be underestimated or undervalued.
As actor, Alan Cumming, said of the festival "Being part of the gay population is great: you're part of a legacy of amazing creativity and revolutionary cultural achievements. But you're also in a minority that is still struggling to show to those outside it what your experience really is, and gain their respect for it. That's where Glasgay! comes in: a festival to celebrate and encourage gay artists and make their work more visible to the mainstream and gain their respect for it. A chance for gay people to come together, and for straight people to enjoy what all the fuss is about. And it all happens in Glasgow, the city where everyone has a voice, everyone has an opinion and everyone has a laugh."
GLASGAY! RESULTS
• Audience attendance was 36,207 attenders. This was more than double the previous year (14,890 in 2008) • 168 days of performances at 78% of capacity • Four and Five star reviews four all of our top Commissioned product. (see selected press quotes below) • TV, Radio, blogs and international coverage of our events reaching nearly three quarters of a million websites worldwide • Press Coverage at £0.5million in advertising equivalent value • Turnover approaching £225,000k • Increased sponsorship and donations • 60% attenders from Glasgow, 15% adjacent, 9% rest of Scotland, 14% overseas; 3% England. A significant rise in out-of-town and international visitors.
Selected press quotes from 2009 ....
“The work here is strong enough to be seen anywhere.” Public Art Scotland
“a festival to celebrate and encourage gay artists and make their work more visible to the mainstream and gain their respect for it.” BNET UK
“Glasgay is one of the most well-regarded LGBT arts events in the UK.” Pink News
“Glasgay! Festival gets bigger and better every year.” The List
“It's why festivals like Glasgay! are so good. It's why the city itself is so fine.” Scotland on Sunday
“Glasgay is one of the most well-regarded LGBT arts events in the UK.” Pink News
“THINK OF Glasgay! – Glasgow's annual celebration of queer culture – and lots of things come to mind: visual razzle-dazzle, cutting-edge performance art, and passionate reworkings of classic texts by gay writers.” The Scotsman
“Glasgay!, still has the radical energy that has made the festival worth talking about since its advent. Fortunately, its the UK's leading LGBT festival" The Skinny
“If Maw Broon stood for prime minister, how refreshing would that be? We would have a different Britain altogether.” The Times
“Glasgay! Is an increasingly huge force on Scotland’s cultural scene.” The List
“Glasgay!, Scotland’s annual celebration of queer culture, returns this year with a brimful of top-notch entertainment and thought provoking delights for all those north of the border.” Attitude
“Glasgow is celebrated the world over. Its a city where it hipsters, fashion designers and muso types prance around in skinny jeans with silly haircuts. Its why festivals like Glasgay! are so good” Scotland on Sunday
“A Child Made Of Love-commissioned by Glasgay! Is raw, clever and disturbing, and we will be hearing much more of it in years to come” The Scotsman
“Louise Welsh’s new play Memory Cells, co-commissioned by Glasgay! Festival offers a tremendous, tragic vividness.” The Scotsman
“It could only be Glasgay! Scotland’s LGBT arts festival, and this year it is bigger and more ambitious than ever” Scotland on Sunday
http://www.glasgay.co.uk
Next Festival Dates 7 Oct - 7 Nov 2010
Wednesday, 11 November 2009
New Statesman - Gay rights and "cultural relativism"
New Statesman - Gay rights and "cultural relativism"
Gay rights and "cultural relativism"
Petra Davis
Published 05 November 2009
A response to Peter Tatchell
"[A] big error by some multiculturalists has been to bow to demands for cultural sensitivity by tacitly accepting that some peoples and communities can be exempt from the norms of universal human rights," argues the veteran lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) campaigner Peter Tatchell in the Independent today.
Tatchell's piece is an excerpt from his talk "Multiculturalism: the Subversion of Human Rights?", given as part of the Glasgay! festival. Citing the conspicuous lack of protections for LGBT people in equality legislation, Tatchell made the case that multiculturalism is leading to the rights of some minorities being prized over those of others. He also alleged complicity from those whose wariness of accusations of racism and Islamophobia could readily be exploited by the religious right, and argues that human rights activists have a moral duty to intervene in one another's cultures to establish universal human rights.
Tatchell's central contention -- that multiculturalism should not equal cultural relativism -- is shared by the activist and campaigner Linda Bellos. "Cultural relativism is destructive," she agrees. "It sets up a hierarchy of oppression, a kind of competition in which one minority group seeks to claim that it is more oppressed than another. In actual fact, most people have a set of identities that are multiple -- so, for example, there are many black people who are also lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender, and I'm one of those people. For us, setting up a hierarchy of oppression means there's always conflict."
Bellos does take some issue with Tatchell's interventionism, however. "He shouldn't be working on our behalf -- he should be working with us," she argues. "I continue to take issue with the lack of respect he seems to have for the work already being done."
Bellos may have a point. During his talk, Tatchell discussed the importance of his engagement with organisations such as the Muslim Council of Britain, but mentioned none of the UK's black and Muslim LGBT organisations. No mention was made of Black Pride, of UK Black Out, or the Black Gay Men's Advisory Group, with which Tatchell has previously worked very successfully on the Stop Murder Music! campaign and the Reggae Compassionate Act.
The tensions Tatchell explores in his talk are manifest, but there is still room for dialogue. This will naturally involve sometimes painful criticisms of others; but perhaps the work is best done in co-operation with, not on behalf of, LGBT people from different communities.
Gay rights and "cultural relativism"
Petra Davis
Published 05 November 2009
A response to Peter Tatchell
"[A] big error by some multiculturalists has been to bow to demands for cultural sensitivity by tacitly accepting that some peoples and communities can be exempt from the norms of universal human rights," argues the veteran lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) campaigner Peter Tatchell in the Independent today.
Tatchell's piece is an excerpt from his talk "Multiculturalism: the Subversion of Human Rights?", given as part of the Glasgay! festival. Citing the conspicuous lack of protections for LGBT people in equality legislation, Tatchell made the case that multiculturalism is leading to the rights of some minorities being prized over those of others. He also alleged complicity from those whose wariness of accusations of racism and Islamophobia could readily be exploited by the religious right, and argues that human rights activists have a moral duty to intervene in one another's cultures to establish universal human rights.
Tatchell's central contention -- that multiculturalism should not equal cultural relativism -- is shared by the activist and campaigner Linda Bellos. "Cultural relativism is destructive," she agrees. "It sets up a hierarchy of oppression, a kind of competition in which one minority group seeks to claim that it is more oppressed than another. In actual fact, most people have a set of identities that are multiple -- so, for example, there are many black people who are also lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender, and I'm one of those people. For us, setting up a hierarchy of oppression means there's always conflict."
Bellos does take some issue with Tatchell's interventionism, however. "He shouldn't be working on our behalf -- he should be working with us," she argues. "I continue to take issue with the lack of respect he seems to have for the work already being done."
Bellos may have a point. During his talk, Tatchell discussed the importance of his engagement with organisations such as the Muslim Council of Britain, but mentioned none of the UK's black and Muslim LGBT organisations. No mention was made of Black Pride, of UK Black Out, or the Black Gay Men's Advisory Group, with which Tatchell has previously worked very successfully on the Stop Murder Music! campaign and the Reggae Compassionate Act.
The tensions Tatchell explores in his talk are manifest, but there is still room for dialogue. This will naturally involve sometimes painful criticisms of others; but perhaps the work is best done in co-operation with, not on behalf of, LGBT people from different communities.
Glasgow's transsexual Jesus | Culture | The Guardian
Glasgow's transsexual Jesus | Culture | The Guardian
Glasgow's transsexual Jesus
Charlotte Higgins
Tuesday 10 November 2009
Two hundred Christian protesters picketed the Tron theatre in Glasgow last week on the opening night of Jo Clifford's play Jesus Queen of Heaven, which depicts Christ as a transsexual. It sounds as if the protesters were at least as entertaining as the play, part of the city's Glasgay! festival. One placard read: "God: 'My son is not a pervert.'" I'm wondering by what means God might have imparted this message (telephone interview?).
Glasgow's transsexual Jesus
Charlotte Higgins
Tuesday 10 November 2009
Two hundred Christian protesters picketed the Tron theatre in Glasgow last week on the opening night of Jo Clifford's play Jesus Queen of Heaven, which depicts Christ as a transsexual. It sounds as if the protesters were at least as entertaining as the play, part of the city's Glasgay! festival. One placard read: "God: 'My son is not a pervert.'" I'm wondering by what means God might have imparted this message (telephone interview?).
Monday, 9 November 2009
Christians protest at portrayal of Jesus as transsexual woman - Herald Scotland | News | Home News
Christians protest at portrayal of Jesus as transsexual woman - Herald Scotland | News | Home News
Readers should note the correction at the end of this article by The Herald. A FACTUAL INACCURACY with regard to THE SH[OUT] EXHIBITION REFERRED TO AS "MADE IN GODS IMAGE" was remoned. THE ORIGINAL WRONGLY ATTRIBUTED TO EXHIBITION AS THE FESTIVAL'S OWN WORK. The EXHIBITION was produced by artists funded by Culture & Sport Glasgow and such artists did not feature in or have anything to do with the Glasgay festival.
Readers should note the correction at the end of this article by The Herald. A FACTUAL INACCURACY with regard to THE SH[OUT] EXHIBITION REFERRED TO AS "MADE IN GODS IMAGE" was remoned. THE ORIGINAL WRONGLY ATTRIBUTED TO EXHIBITION AS THE FESTIVAL'S OWN WORK. The EXHIBITION was produced by artists funded by Culture & Sport Glasgow and such artists did not feature in or have anything to do with the Glasgay festival.
Saturday, 7 November 2009
Friday, 6 November 2009
Jeus Queen of Heaven, sh[out] exhibition & Made in God's Image
THE GLASGAY! FESTIVAL WISHES TO POINT OUT TO READERS A FACTUAL INACCURACY with regard to the following quote appearing in recent news and blogs "Glasgay!, which is supported by the city council quango Culture and Sport Glasgow, has already provoked outrage over an exhibition that encouraged the public to graffiti a Bible." !!!! CORRECTION !!!! Readers should note that Glasgay! had nothing to do with the Sh[out] exhibition’s Bible “Made In God’s Image” work which is referred to incorrectly here. This work was made by other Culture & Sport funded artists who have nothing to do with Glasgay!.
Glasgay and Shout exhibition did however co-fund Jo Clifford’s new theatrical play “Jesus Queen of Heaven” which is a literary work of fiction exploring the artists own personal journey of faith as a transgendered person. Glasgay! supports the right to freedom of expression and offers audiences a diverse view of LGBT life. This work is not intended to incite or offend anyone of any belief system however we respect your right to disagree with that opinion. We welcome genuinely interested audience members who wish to understand the artistic intention behind this work.
Glasgay and Shout exhibition did however co-fund Jo Clifford’s new theatrical play “Jesus Queen of Heaven” which is a literary work of fiction exploring the artists own personal journey of faith as a transgendered person. Glasgay! supports the right to freedom of expression and offers audiences a diverse view of LGBT life. This work is not intended to incite or offend anyone of any belief system however we respect your right to disagree with that opinion. We welcome genuinely interested audience members who wish to understand the artistic intention behind this work.
Thursday, 5 November 2009
Theatre review: Jesus, Queen of Heaven - Scotsman.com Living
Theatre review: Jesus, Queen of Heaven - Scotsman.com Living
Theatre review: Jesus, Queen of Heaven
Date: 05 November 2009
By Jay Richardson
JESUS, QUEEN OF HEAVEN **
THE TRON, GLASGOW
IT'S been over 2,000 years, but Jesus still pulls a crowd. The mere existence of this play, in which the Messiah is portrayed as a transsexual woman, prompted more than 300 protesters to demonstrate outside the theatre on opening night. Inside, in a
ADVERTISEMENTset recalling The Last Supper, the audience sat disciple-like around writer-performer Jo Clifford, who, in the title role, began by archly lamenting Christ's apparent habit of upsetting Christians.
At once an expression of faith denouncing fundamentalism, a call for tolerance and acceptance for all, and an unabashed celebration of transgender existence, the worthy Queen of Heaven is regrettably overburdened by its ambition and a central characterisation that could inspire no-one. With the patronising rhetoric of a faux-naif, at times irritatingly New Agey in her wishy-washy evocation of guardian angels, Clifford's Jesus recalls various parables from the New Testament but transplants them to a contemporary setting and recasts them with greater inclusivity – the Good Samaritan is now a disco queen tottering home on her heels; the Prodigal Son returns a Prodigal Daughter.
Parallels between Christ's persecution and that of the transgender community and women are well-drawn and Clifford's version of Christianity feels like a fluffier, more welcoming and indeed fun sect than many. But the playwright can't resolve the Bible's contradictions and this pick'n'mix interpretation, alternately affirming and subverting the Gospels, is ultimately unsatisfying.
Theatre review: Jesus, Queen of Heaven
Date: 05 November 2009
By Jay Richardson
JESUS, QUEEN OF HEAVEN **
THE TRON, GLASGOW
IT'S been over 2,000 years, but Jesus still pulls a crowd. The mere existence of this play, in which the Messiah is portrayed as a transsexual woman, prompted more than 300 protesters to demonstrate outside the theatre on opening night. Inside, in a
ADVERTISEMENTset recalling The Last Supper, the audience sat disciple-like around writer-performer Jo Clifford, who, in the title role, began by archly lamenting Christ's apparent habit of upsetting Christians.
At once an expression of faith denouncing fundamentalism, a call for tolerance and acceptance for all, and an unabashed celebration of transgender existence, the worthy Queen of Heaven is regrettably overburdened by its ambition and a central characterisation that could inspire no-one. With the patronising rhetoric of a faux-naif, at times irritatingly New Agey in her wishy-washy evocation of guardian angels, Clifford's Jesus recalls various parables from the New Testament but transplants them to a contemporary setting and recasts them with greater inclusivity – the Good Samaritan is now a disco queen tottering home on her heels; the Prodigal Son returns a Prodigal Daughter.
Parallels between Christ's persecution and that of the transgender community and women are well-drawn and Clifford's version of Christianity feels like a fluffier, more welcoming and indeed fun sect than many. But the playwright can't resolve the Bible's contradictions and this pick'n'mix interpretation, alternately affirming and subverting the Gospels, is ultimately unsatisfying.
Theatre reviews: The Maw Broon Monologues/10,000 Metres Deep/Antigone - Scotsman.com Living
Theatre reviews: The Maw Broon Monologues/10,000 Metres Deep/Antigone - Scotsman.com Living
Theatre reviews: The Maw Broon Monologues
Maw Broon, catching up after 60 years in limbo with everything the 21st century has to offer.
Date: 05 November 2009
By Joyce McMillan
THE MAW BROON MONOLOGUES ****
TRON THEATRE, GLASGOW
FOR a woman who first saw the light of day on 8 March 1936 – and was a lusty 50-year-old even then – the Sunday Post's great Scottish cartoon matriarch, Maw Broon, is looking in pretty good shape. She's not slim, she's not young, she's not braw; and as she comes to realise, in the course of The Maw Broon Monologues, a new Glasgay! Commission by Glasgow-born poet and playwright Jackie Kay, she isn't actually real.
For all her disadvantages, though, Maw Broon – as personified here by fabulous Terry Neason, and black alter ego Suzanne Bonnar – is all woman; and in Kay's weird, slightly mind-blowing tartan-tinged fantasy, she takes umbrage at Paw Broon's suspected infidelity, and sets off from her kitsch room-and-kitchen at No 10 Glebe Street to travel the world of the early 21st century, in search of the personal fulfilment she deserves.
Tartan shopping bag in hand, and headscarf tied firmly in place, she therefore visits a shrink, tries colonic irrigation, pines for a room of her own, wins through to round three of Scotland's Got Talent ("reality's no just on TV, ye know"), discusses the possible merits of a gay lifestyle, and generates her own version of the Vagina Monologues. And meantime, at the piano, the astonishing Tom Urie – in the character of Maw's unattractive bearded daughter, Daphne Broon – rattles out his own cycle of songs in which Neason and Bonnar celebrate or bewail Maw's fate, in styles ranging from Scottish country dance to serious blues; while a screen above the fireplace alternates between a sentimental Highland scene, and captioned texts in which the great philosophers of post-modernity offer their thoughts on the journey of the individual towards self-knowledge.
It has to be said that having set up this brilliant and hilarious scenario, Jackie Kay's 90-minute script doesn't quite develop the dramatic momentum of which it might have been capable. The relationship between the two Maw Broons is not clear; the idea of the black alter ego is not developed, and their conversation often dwindles into daytime television cliché. The show expresses no legible view about the self-obsessed individualism of our time; and it often slides into the easy comic option of setting up the old tenement stereotype, and then raising cheap laughs by conjuring up incongruities, like Maw Broon serving up sashimi.
But if the show sometimes lacks focus, and often tends to reinforce the stereotypes it sets out to challenge, it's also one of the most hilariously inventive investigations of Scottish kitsch culture to appear on stage since the 1980s. Maggie Kinloch's production fully exploits the postmodern madness of the material; Neason and Bonnar both sing beautifully, particularly when it comes to the blues. And Neason in particular sometimes seems like the very embodiment of a certain kind of Scottish womanhood – the hard-working, self-mocking kind for whom being a woman was never a matter of pride or joy, and who therefore needed the liberation brought by the strange, self-centred times we live in, as much as any group on earth.
Theatre reviews: The Maw Broon Monologues
Maw Broon, catching up after 60 years in limbo with everything the 21st century has to offer.
Date: 05 November 2009
By Joyce McMillan
THE MAW BROON MONOLOGUES ****
TRON THEATRE, GLASGOW
FOR a woman who first saw the light of day on 8 March 1936 – and was a lusty 50-year-old even then – the Sunday Post's great Scottish cartoon matriarch, Maw Broon, is looking in pretty good shape. She's not slim, she's not young, she's not braw; and as she comes to realise, in the course of The Maw Broon Monologues, a new Glasgay! Commission by Glasgow-born poet and playwright Jackie Kay, she isn't actually real.
For all her disadvantages, though, Maw Broon – as personified here by fabulous Terry Neason, and black alter ego Suzanne Bonnar – is all woman; and in Kay's weird, slightly mind-blowing tartan-tinged fantasy, she takes umbrage at Paw Broon's suspected infidelity, and sets off from her kitsch room-and-kitchen at No 10 Glebe Street to travel the world of the early 21st century, in search of the personal fulfilment she deserves.
Tartan shopping bag in hand, and headscarf tied firmly in place, she therefore visits a shrink, tries colonic irrigation, pines for a room of her own, wins through to round three of Scotland's Got Talent ("reality's no just on TV, ye know"), discusses the possible merits of a gay lifestyle, and generates her own version of the Vagina Monologues. And meantime, at the piano, the astonishing Tom Urie – in the character of Maw's unattractive bearded daughter, Daphne Broon – rattles out his own cycle of songs in which Neason and Bonnar celebrate or bewail Maw's fate, in styles ranging from Scottish country dance to serious blues; while a screen above the fireplace alternates between a sentimental Highland scene, and captioned texts in which the great philosophers of post-modernity offer their thoughts on the journey of the individual towards self-knowledge.
It has to be said that having set up this brilliant and hilarious scenario, Jackie Kay's 90-minute script doesn't quite develop the dramatic momentum of which it might have been capable. The relationship between the two Maw Broons is not clear; the idea of the black alter ego is not developed, and their conversation often dwindles into daytime television cliché. The show expresses no legible view about the self-obsessed individualism of our time; and it often slides into the easy comic option of setting up the old tenement stereotype, and then raising cheap laughs by conjuring up incongruities, like Maw Broon serving up sashimi.
But if the show sometimes lacks focus, and often tends to reinforce the stereotypes it sets out to challenge, it's also one of the most hilariously inventive investigations of Scottish kitsch culture to appear on stage since the 1980s. Maggie Kinloch's production fully exploits the postmodern madness of the material; Neason and Bonnar both sing beautifully, particularly when it comes to the blues. And Neason in particular sometimes seems like the very embodiment of a certain kind of Scottish womanhood – the hard-working, self-mocking kind for whom being a woman was never a matter of pride or joy, and who therefore needed the liberation brought by the strange, self-centred times we live in, as much as any group on earth.
Wednesday, 4 November 2009
Vampire tales have become a real fetish on big and small screens. Will they keep their bite while celebrating tolerance in our multisexual society - Scotsman.com Living
Vampire tales have become a real fetish on big and small screens. Will they keep their bite while celebrating tolerance in our multisexual society - Scotsman.com Living
Vampire tales have become a real fetish on big and small screens. Will they keep their bite while celebrating tolerance in our multisexual societyBy Andrew Eaton
LAST weekend I went to a fetish club called Torture Garden. If this seems like an eccentric way to begin a feature about vampires, bear with me. Torture Garden began in London in 1990, and pitches itself as a night of "fantasy and transformation". Back then, the fetish scene was much more taboo than it is now, and a combination of tabloid scaremongering and overzealous policing resulted in nights being closed down.
Since then, Britain's sexual landscape has changed significantly. There is less homophobia (or, at the very least, homophobia is less socially acceptable), burlesque is everywhere, sadomasochism and fetishism are talked about more openly, and Torture Garden's Edinburgh debut did not attract any protests. Which is exactly as it should be. It was one of the friendliest, safest, most open-minded club nights I've been to.
Watching True Blood, the hit HBO vampire series that recently began on Channel 4, I keep thinking of Torture Garden. It's a show with a fascinating theme – what happens when mainstream society begins to absorb a minority it once viewed with suspicion and fear. For those not already addicted, True Blood is set in a parallel world where vampires have come out of the coffin, as it were, thanks to a synthetic drink called Tru-Blood which means they no longer need to feed on humans. After hiding from the world for centuries, they now walk openly among the living (only at night, obviously) and campaign for vampire rights in the media. They face hatred and bigotry, particularly from the religious, and much of the storyline is about the uneasy co-existence between vampires and humans.
True Blood is nuanced enough to remain ambiguous about what minority the vampires might represent. One obvious conclusion is that it's about being gay. There's a gay chef, Lafayette, who has to endure redneck ignorance just as the vampires do, and a punning road sign that says "God hates fangs". But Lafayette is also black; the series is set in the American Deep South, and there are frequent references to slavery, so it seems to be about racism too.
True Blood's main vampire, Bill Compton, wants to live an ordinary "mainstream" life. He dates a human called Sookie (X-Men's Anna Paquin, very amused that a vampire could have a name as boring as Bill) and even gives a history lecture at his local church (yes, he tells his astonished, ill-informed audience, vampires can look at crucifixes without bursting into flames).
Other vampires have no desire to conform and regard Bill as a sellout (these vampires hang out in a "vampire bar" which bears a passing resemblance to Torture Garden). The humans, meanwhile, fear the vampires but secretly envy them. The local drug dealer sells vampire blood, whose effects are a little like Viagra and LSD combined, and sex with a vampire is seen as a transgressive thrill – an image that plenty of gay people, and black people too, will find wearily familiar. Familiar, too, will be the vampires' resentment at the hypocrisy of a "mainstream" that is reluctant to accept them as they are, but happy to gawp at and exploit them.
In True Blood, though, no-one is immune to ignorance and hypocrisy. In one scene a black character, Tara, warns Sookie that vampires can hypnotise you. "Yeah, and black people are lazy and Jews have horns," Sookie scolds her, with a sarcastic and self-righteous tut. It later turns out vampires can hypnotise you.
Vampires, both scary and seductive, have long been used to symbolise all kinds of things that fascinate and frighten us simultaneously. George Romero's film Martin is really about drug addiction. Francis Ford Coppola's take on Dracula was a vampire movie for a world waking up to the reality of HIV. Numerous other films, from The Lost Boys to this year's Let The Right One In and the hugely successful Twilight, have used vampires as a metaphor for stories about adolescence. In The Lost Boys, teenage vampires run amok in a kind of nuclear family nightmare. The vampire in Let The Right One In is a fantasy protector figure for a misfit schoolboy whose life is being destroyed by bullies – a situation resolved by an act of sickening violence which the film, tellingly, doesn't judge.
Twilight, as has been widely observed, is really about teenage sexuality – and the fear of it. Kristen Stewart's small-town girl would, clearly, like to get intimate with Robert Pattinson's handsome vampire, but since his sexual urges are largely inseparable from his urge to suck all the blood from her body, their relationship must remain mostly chaste.
One obvious difference between the teenage Twilight and the more grown-up True Blood is that while the former is full of sexual tension, the latter is an orgy of actual sex. There's nudity and bondage and, in one memorable scene, an energetic romp in a car park which doesn't stop even when a jealous Tara throws rubbish all over the couple in question.
That this has all caused relatively little media hand-wringing says much about our more sexually liberated times. True Blood's plotline reminds me of a conversation I had once with Steven Thomson, director of the Glasgay! festival (currently in full swing). Thomson has worked hard, since he got the job, to make Glasgay! a broad, inclusive event. His way of doing that has been to brand it as a 'celebration of queer culture', exploring difference and transgressiveness in all its forms. If you are prepared to embrace queer culture, you are welcome, gay or straight. Torture Garden (which, it should be said, appears to draw a mostly heterosexual crowd) operates on a similar basis – you don't have to wear fetish gear or indulge in sadomasochistic play yourself, but you are welcome to come along if you respect its culture and its rules.
True Blood, too, feels like a celebration of queer culture, an exploration of what it means to be transgressive, and tolerant, in a multi-cultural, multi-sexual society. It takes the idea that vampires are really us further than I've ever seen it taken. Its popularity, I'd like to think, is a sign that we are more willing than ever to confront the monsters we create inside our heads. If everyone watches it, and gets it, it'll be another victory for liberal thinking. v
True Blood continues on Wednesday on Channel 4. The Twilight Saga: New Moon is released on 20 November
Vampire tales have become a real fetish on big and small screens. Will they keep their bite while celebrating tolerance in our multisexual societyBy Andrew Eaton
LAST weekend I went to a fetish club called Torture Garden. If this seems like an eccentric way to begin a feature about vampires, bear with me. Torture Garden began in London in 1990, and pitches itself as a night of "fantasy and transformation". Back then, the fetish scene was much more taboo than it is now, and a combination of tabloid scaremongering and overzealous policing resulted in nights being closed down.
Since then, Britain's sexual landscape has changed significantly. There is less homophobia (or, at the very least, homophobia is less socially acceptable), burlesque is everywhere, sadomasochism and fetishism are talked about more openly, and Torture Garden's Edinburgh debut did not attract any protests. Which is exactly as it should be. It was one of the friendliest, safest, most open-minded club nights I've been to.
Watching True Blood, the hit HBO vampire series that recently began on Channel 4, I keep thinking of Torture Garden. It's a show with a fascinating theme – what happens when mainstream society begins to absorb a minority it once viewed with suspicion and fear. For those not already addicted, True Blood is set in a parallel world where vampires have come out of the coffin, as it were, thanks to a synthetic drink called Tru-Blood which means they no longer need to feed on humans. After hiding from the world for centuries, they now walk openly among the living (only at night, obviously) and campaign for vampire rights in the media. They face hatred and bigotry, particularly from the religious, and much of the storyline is about the uneasy co-existence between vampires and humans.
True Blood is nuanced enough to remain ambiguous about what minority the vampires might represent. One obvious conclusion is that it's about being gay. There's a gay chef, Lafayette, who has to endure redneck ignorance just as the vampires do, and a punning road sign that says "God hates fangs". But Lafayette is also black; the series is set in the American Deep South, and there are frequent references to slavery, so it seems to be about racism too.
True Blood's main vampire, Bill Compton, wants to live an ordinary "mainstream" life. He dates a human called Sookie (X-Men's Anna Paquin, very amused that a vampire could have a name as boring as Bill) and even gives a history lecture at his local church (yes, he tells his astonished, ill-informed audience, vampires can look at crucifixes without bursting into flames).
Other vampires have no desire to conform and regard Bill as a sellout (these vampires hang out in a "vampire bar" which bears a passing resemblance to Torture Garden). The humans, meanwhile, fear the vampires but secretly envy them. The local drug dealer sells vampire blood, whose effects are a little like Viagra and LSD combined, and sex with a vampire is seen as a transgressive thrill – an image that plenty of gay people, and black people too, will find wearily familiar. Familiar, too, will be the vampires' resentment at the hypocrisy of a "mainstream" that is reluctant to accept them as they are, but happy to gawp at and exploit them.
In True Blood, though, no-one is immune to ignorance and hypocrisy. In one scene a black character, Tara, warns Sookie that vampires can hypnotise you. "Yeah, and black people are lazy and Jews have horns," Sookie scolds her, with a sarcastic and self-righteous tut. It later turns out vampires can hypnotise you.
Vampires, both scary and seductive, have long been used to symbolise all kinds of things that fascinate and frighten us simultaneously. George Romero's film Martin is really about drug addiction. Francis Ford Coppola's take on Dracula was a vampire movie for a world waking up to the reality of HIV. Numerous other films, from The Lost Boys to this year's Let The Right One In and the hugely successful Twilight, have used vampires as a metaphor for stories about adolescence. In The Lost Boys, teenage vampires run amok in a kind of nuclear family nightmare. The vampire in Let The Right One In is a fantasy protector figure for a misfit schoolboy whose life is being destroyed by bullies – a situation resolved by an act of sickening violence which the film, tellingly, doesn't judge.
Twilight, as has been widely observed, is really about teenage sexuality – and the fear of it. Kristen Stewart's small-town girl would, clearly, like to get intimate with Robert Pattinson's handsome vampire, but since his sexual urges are largely inseparable from his urge to suck all the blood from her body, their relationship must remain mostly chaste.
One obvious difference between the teenage Twilight and the more grown-up True Blood is that while the former is full of sexual tension, the latter is an orgy of actual sex. There's nudity and bondage and, in one memorable scene, an energetic romp in a car park which doesn't stop even when a jealous Tara throws rubbish all over the couple in question.
That this has all caused relatively little media hand-wringing says much about our more sexually liberated times. True Blood's plotline reminds me of a conversation I had once with Steven Thomson, director of the Glasgay! festival (currently in full swing). Thomson has worked hard, since he got the job, to make Glasgay! a broad, inclusive event. His way of doing that has been to brand it as a 'celebration of queer culture', exploring difference and transgressiveness in all its forms. If you are prepared to embrace queer culture, you are welcome, gay or straight. Torture Garden (which, it should be said, appears to draw a mostly heterosexual crowd) operates on a similar basis – you don't have to wear fetish gear or indulge in sadomasochistic play yourself, but you are welcome to come along if you respect its culture and its rules.
True Blood, too, feels like a celebration of queer culture, an exploration of what it means to be transgressive, and tolerant, in a multi-cultural, multi-sexual society. It takes the idea that vampires are really us further than I've ever seen it taken. Its popularity, I'd like to think, is a sign that we are more willing than ever to confront the monsters we create inside our heads. If everyone watches it, and gets it, it'll be another victory for liberal thinking. v
True Blood continues on Wednesday on Channel 4. The Twilight Saga: New Moon is released on 20 November
Prejudice has no foundation in Bible, says transsexual author - Herald Scotland | News | Home News
Prejudice has no foundation in Bible, says transsexual author - Herald Scotland | News | Home News
Prejudice has no foundation in Bible, says transsexual author
JO CLIFFORD: Her new play Jesus, Queen of Heaven attracted Christian protesters on its opening night
Alison Campsie
0 commentsPublished on 4 Nov 2009
The playwright whose depiction of Jesus as a transsexual woman sparked a Christian protest has spoken out against her critics, claiming their prejudice has no foundation in the Bible and revealing she is a regular churchgoer herself.
Jo Clifford, 59, said she had been upset by the demonstration outside the Tron Theatre, Glasgow, where about 300 objectors congregated on the opening night of Jesus, Queen of Heaven.
Ms Clifford, who is both a transsexual and a churchgoer, said she wrote the play to examine the roots of prejudice faced by both gay people and those who have crossed genders.
She performs as Jesus in the play, and publicity material for the show depicts her as the Messiah, complete with crucifixion wounds and a halo.
Ms Clifford, of Edinburgh, said: “I think it is very sad that the protest has enlisted Christians who have difficulties with gays and transsexuals. I wanted to point out that this does not have any foundation in the Bible.
“The people who angered Jesus were the scribes, Pharisees and hypocrites – the people who were deeply prejudiced, those who passed judgment on people they did not know.
“Being transsexual, I think an awful lot about where prejudice comes from.
“I would say about 95% of the play has the most profound respect of the gospel and the figure of Jesus. I really have no wish to offend anybody, which means that it is a big shame that everyone has taken great offence. That was genuinely not my intention.
“I think there is a great deal of prejudice against transsexuals and I am really sorry to see that. I don’t think that this prejudice has any foundation in the Bible.
“I should also say that I have shown the script to committed Christians, people who know a great deal about theology, and they supported what I have done.”
Jesus, Queen of Heaven is being staged as part of Glasgay!, an arts festival “for queer people and their friends”, whose sponsors include Glasgow City Council, the Scottish Arts Council and Glasgow Culture, Media and Sport.
Ms Clifford has been a professional playwright since 1986 and has written around 65 plays. She is a former professor of theatre at Queen Margaret University in Edinburgh, and her work has featured in venues around the world. Next spring, her play Everyone will be staged at the Lyceum in Edinburgh.
Ms Clifford, formerly known as John, started the process of becoming a woman following the death of her wife in 2005.
“It has been a very slow, gradual process and I finally made the decisive step in 2005 when my wife died. I had performed obligations as a husband but once the children had grown up and I was a widower, it seemed the
right time.”
Those who demonstrated against Jesus, Queen of Heaven on Tuesday night blocked Chisholm Street in Glasgow city centre for more than three hours.
Ms Clifford said: “I saw one placard which said: ‘God: My son is not a pervert’. That is a terrible thing to say. I am not a pervert. I often thought I was, and that did me a lot
of harm.”
Among the demonstrators was Jack Bell, pastor of the Zion Baptist Church in Polmadie. He led protests against Jerry Springer – The Opera, which has been interpreted as blasphemous by some, when it was staged at the Edinburgh Fringe in August.
The Christian Institute, which is opposed to equality for gay people, described the Glasgay! festival as “further proof of an agenda to use taxpayers’ money to fund assaults on Christian values”.
Ms Clifford added: “I think that the terrible malaise in the world today is partly because we have lost touch with spirituality.
“Christianity has been a great support to me. It does hurt that these people should be experiencing so much prejudice. They should go back and read the Bible again.”
Blasphemy? No, but worth watching
“God: My son is not a pervert” and “God save Scotland from blasphemy” – these were two of the banners held by the irate Christians gathered outside the Tron theatre. The object of their protest was transgender playwright Jo Clifford’s new work Jesus, Queen of Heaven, in which Christ is portrayed as a transsexual.
The scene was reminiscent of the times in the 1970s when Pastor Jack Glass and company used to picket Billy Connolly’s show in protest at his crucifixion sketch, unaware that leaflets deconstructing the sketch and pointing out historical inaccuracies such as “Jesus did NOT wear casual sandals” were funnier than anything the Big Yin himself could have come up with.
So is Clifford’s play, presented here as part of the Glasgay! festival, as controversial as it is made out to be? Is it really a blasphemous affront to Christianity? The answer on both counts would seem to be no.
Sure, it is an unconventional interpretation of Jesus’s life: one which transposes the gender of the Messiah from male to female. But then interpretation is what the Christian faith is founded on.
Other than that, Clifford’s monologue – which is delivered to an audience seated on three sides at linen-covered tables resembling The Last Supper – is a far-from-shocking, moving, at times narratively ramshackle mix of modernised parables, gospel, autobiographical snippets and pleas for compassion, love and tolerance of others that echo Jesus’s teachings, rather than denigrating them.
As one protester vehemently declared to me: “I don’t need to go down a sewer to know that it sinks.” Well, quite.
But you might want to at least see the play you’re damning before throwing the first stone.
Prejudice has no foundation in Bible, says transsexual author
JO CLIFFORD: Her new play Jesus, Queen of Heaven attracted Christian protesters on its opening night
Alison Campsie
0 commentsPublished on 4 Nov 2009
The playwright whose depiction of Jesus as a transsexual woman sparked a Christian protest has spoken out against her critics, claiming their prejudice has no foundation in the Bible and revealing she is a regular churchgoer herself.
Jo Clifford, 59, said she had been upset by the demonstration outside the Tron Theatre, Glasgow, where about 300 objectors congregated on the opening night of Jesus, Queen of Heaven.
Ms Clifford, who is both a transsexual and a churchgoer, said she wrote the play to examine the roots of prejudice faced by both gay people and those who have crossed genders.
She performs as Jesus in the play, and publicity material for the show depicts her as the Messiah, complete with crucifixion wounds and a halo.
Ms Clifford, of Edinburgh, said: “I think it is very sad that the protest has enlisted Christians who have difficulties with gays and transsexuals. I wanted to point out that this does not have any foundation in the Bible.
“The people who angered Jesus were the scribes, Pharisees and hypocrites – the people who were deeply prejudiced, those who passed judgment on people they did not know.
“Being transsexual, I think an awful lot about where prejudice comes from.
“I would say about 95% of the play has the most profound respect of the gospel and the figure of Jesus. I really have no wish to offend anybody, which means that it is a big shame that everyone has taken great offence. That was genuinely not my intention.
“I think there is a great deal of prejudice against transsexuals and I am really sorry to see that. I don’t think that this prejudice has any foundation in the Bible.
“I should also say that I have shown the script to committed Christians, people who know a great deal about theology, and they supported what I have done.”
Jesus, Queen of Heaven is being staged as part of Glasgay!, an arts festival “for queer people and their friends”, whose sponsors include Glasgow City Council, the Scottish Arts Council and Glasgow Culture, Media and Sport.
Ms Clifford has been a professional playwright since 1986 and has written around 65 plays. She is a former professor of theatre at Queen Margaret University in Edinburgh, and her work has featured in venues around the world. Next spring, her play Everyone will be staged at the Lyceum in Edinburgh.
Ms Clifford, formerly known as John, started the process of becoming a woman following the death of her wife in 2005.
“It has been a very slow, gradual process and I finally made the decisive step in 2005 when my wife died. I had performed obligations as a husband but once the children had grown up and I was a widower, it seemed the
right time.”
Those who demonstrated against Jesus, Queen of Heaven on Tuesday night blocked Chisholm Street in Glasgow city centre for more than three hours.
Ms Clifford said: “I saw one placard which said: ‘God: My son is not a pervert’. That is a terrible thing to say. I am not a pervert. I often thought I was, and that did me a lot
of harm.”
Among the demonstrators was Jack Bell, pastor of the Zion Baptist Church in Polmadie. He led protests against Jerry Springer – The Opera, which has been interpreted as blasphemous by some, when it was staged at the Edinburgh Fringe in August.
The Christian Institute, which is opposed to equality for gay people, described the Glasgay! festival as “further proof of an agenda to use taxpayers’ money to fund assaults on Christian values”.
Ms Clifford added: “I think that the terrible malaise in the world today is partly because we have lost touch with spirituality.
“Christianity has been a great support to me. It does hurt that these people should be experiencing so much prejudice. They should go back and read the Bible again.”
Blasphemy? No, but worth watching
“God: My son is not a pervert” and “God save Scotland from blasphemy” – these were two of the banners held by the irate Christians gathered outside the Tron theatre. The object of their protest was transgender playwright Jo Clifford’s new work Jesus, Queen of Heaven, in which Christ is portrayed as a transsexual.
The scene was reminiscent of the times in the 1970s when Pastor Jack Glass and company used to picket Billy Connolly’s show in protest at his crucifixion sketch, unaware that leaflets deconstructing the sketch and pointing out historical inaccuracies such as “Jesus did NOT wear casual sandals” were funnier than anything the Big Yin himself could have come up with.
So is Clifford’s play, presented here as part of the Glasgay! festival, as controversial as it is made out to be? Is it really a blasphemous affront to Christianity? The answer on both counts would seem to be no.
Sure, it is an unconventional interpretation of Jesus’s life: one which transposes the gender of the Messiah from male to female. But then interpretation is what the Christian faith is founded on.
Other than that, Clifford’s monologue – which is delivered to an audience seated on three sides at linen-covered tables resembling The Last Supper – is a far-from-shocking, moving, at times narratively ramshackle mix of modernised parables, gospel, autobiographical snippets and pleas for compassion, love and tolerance of others that echo Jesus’s teachings, rather than denigrating them.
As one protester vehemently declared to me: “I don’t need to go down a sewer to know that it sinks.” Well, quite.
But you might want to at least see the play you’re damning before throwing the first stone.
The Maw Broon Monologues at the Tron, Glasgow - Times Online
The Maw Broon Monologues at the Tron, Glasgow - Times Online
The Maw Broon Monologues at the Tron, GlasgowRobert Dawson Scott
Recommend?
You may think you know Maw Broon and all the other Broons, the family that has lived at 10 Glebe Street in the pages of The Sunday Post since 1936. But you may have to think again.
Jackie Kay’s script for this Glasgay! show begins with the invention for Maw, played by Terry Neason, of her doppelgänger, or alter ego, in the shape of Suzanne Bonnar. The idea that Maw would use, or even understand the meaning of, words such as that is part of a huge in-joke that would leave anyone who does not know the original gasping for air.
But it is more than just a joke at Maw’s expense; doppelgängers and alter egos are a key part of Scottish cultural tradition. Kay invites us to conclude that Maw Broon, all common sense and family values, is just as valuable. Meanwhile, still dressed in heavy tweed skirt and sensible skirt but egged on by her alter ego, Maw finds herself with a full-size mid-life crisis. Cue any number of modish solutions from psychotherapy to colonic irrigation (“I’m my own worst enema,” she cries).
In each case, the scene is decorated with equally inventive songs by Tom Urie. Dressed as the plain Broon daughter Daphne (his first entrance, complete with black wig and heavy beard got one of the biggest laughs of the night), Urie accompanies the songs live from the piano and occasionally supplies other characters in a range of finger puppets.
There are too many great lines (“Reality’s not just on TV”, “built like a bothy”) and too much gleeful recognition for laughter not to be guaranteed. And Neason and Bonnar are two of the best voices Scotland has produced, so the songs are great. Indeed, in the face of general audience adulation, it seems almost rude to point out that actually it could, and probably still can, be a whole lot better.
The opening performance was messy technically. Both principals were clearly nervous and Maggie Kinloch, who directs, has not persuaded them to adopt a consistent style. Are they cartoon characters or real people? They are stuck somewhere in between, which looks and feels uncomfortable and does not make the best of Kay’s clever but wordy script.
The Maw Broon Monologues at the Tron, GlasgowRobert Dawson Scott
Recommend?
You may think you know Maw Broon and all the other Broons, the family that has lived at 10 Glebe Street in the pages of The Sunday Post since 1936. But you may have to think again.
Jackie Kay’s script for this Glasgay! show begins with the invention for Maw, played by Terry Neason, of her doppelgänger, or alter ego, in the shape of Suzanne Bonnar. The idea that Maw would use, or even understand the meaning of, words such as that is part of a huge in-joke that would leave anyone who does not know the original gasping for air.
But it is more than just a joke at Maw’s expense; doppelgängers and alter egos are a key part of Scottish cultural tradition. Kay invites us to conclude that Maw Broon, all common sense and family values, is just as valuable. Meanwhile, still dressed in heavy tweed skirt and sensible skirt but egged on by her alter ego, Maw finds herself with a full-size mid-life crisis. Cue any number of modish solutions from psychotherapy to colonic irrigation (“I’m my own worst enema,” she cries).
In each case, the scene is decorated with equally inventive songs by Tom Urie. Dressed as the plain Broon daughter Daphne (his first entrance, complete with black wig and heavy beard got one of the biggest laughs of the night), Urie accompanies the songs live from the piano and occasionally supplies other characters in a range of finger puppets.
There are too many great lines (“Reality’s not just on TV”, “built like a bothy”) and too much gleeful recognition for laughter not to be guaranteed. And Neason and Bonnar are two of the best voices Scotland has produced, so the songs are great. Indeed, in the face of general audience adulation, it seems almost rude to point out that actually it could, and probably still can, be a whole lot better.
The opening performance was messy technically. Both principals were clearly nervous and Maggie Kinloch, who directs, has not persuaded them to adopt a consistent style. Are they cartoon characters or real people? They are stuck somewhere in between, which looks and feels uncomfortable and does not make the best of Kay’s clever but wordy script.
The Maw Broon Monologues, Tron Theatre, Glasgow - Herald Scotland | Arts & Ents | Stage & Visual Arts
The Maw Broon Monologues, Tron Theatre, Glasgow - Herald Scotland | Arts & Ents | Stage & Visual Arts
The Maw Broon Monologues, Tron Theatre, Glasgow
Neil Cooper
Star rating: ****
Published on 4 Nov 2009
Michty!
Whit’s goin’ oan in Auchenshuggle? If Jackie Kay’s loose-knit cabaret reinvention of the nation’s cartoon first lady is anything to go by, the gallus besom’s not only rediscovered her funny bone, but she’s gone and got herself emancipated with it.
As projected quotes from Carl Jung, Virginia Woolf, Karl Mark and others usher in each belated life lesson, the ultimate working-class matriarch meets her match in her all-singing, all-dancing psyche.
In her own words, Maw Broon is “built like a bothy” and is craving for adventure beyond Glebe Street. Maw and her doppelganger duly embark on an adventure that takes in everything from therapy and colonic irrigation to rehab and political discourse with a less likeable Broon. En route, Maw sings the blues, gets down and dirty and discovers big words beyond the reductive tartan kitsch she was drawn, if not born, into.
The end result is a form of hand-me-down feminism patented in the 1970s alternative theatre scene, but reinvented here in Maggie Kinloch’s Glasgay! production with polish as well as punchlines. As the two Maws, Terry Neason and Suzanne Bonnar make for a magnificently brassy double act. Musical director Tom Urie, meanwhile, is a larger than life accompaniment. It would be wrong to reveal which Broon he turns up dressed as, but let’s just say he more resembles Desperate Dan in drag.
As with David Greig and Gordon MacIntyre’s collaboration on their indie pop stage rom-com Midsummer this time last year, here is a popular mini musical with substance as well as style. Kay has gone further, subverting – some might say corrupting – a national treasure by making her an independent woman to be reckoned with.
The Maw Broon Monologues, Tron Theatre, Glasgow
Neil Cooper
Star rating: ****
Published on 4 Nov 2009
Michty!
Whit’s goin’ oan in Auchenshuggle? If Jackie Kay’s loose-knit cabaret reinvention of the nation’s cartoon first lady is anything to go by, the gallus besom’s not only rediscovered her funny bone, but she’s gone and got herself emancipated with it.
As projected quotes from Carl Jung, Virginia Woolf, Karl Mark and others usher in each belated life lesson, the ultimate working-class matriarch meets her match in her all-singing, all-dancing psyche.
In her own words, Maw Broon is “built like a bothy” and is craving for adventure beyond Glebe Street. Maw and her doppelganger duly embark on an adventure that takes in everything from therapy and colonic irrigation to rehab and political discourse with a less likeable Broon. En route, Maw sings the blues, gets down and dirty and discovers big words beyond the reductive tartan kitsch she was drawn, if not born, into.
The end result is a form of hand-me-down feminism patented in the 1970s alternative theatre scene, but reinvented here in Maggie Kinloch’s Glasgay! production with polish as well as punchlines. As the two Maws, Terry Neason and Suzanne Bonnar make for a magnificently brassy double act. Musical director Tom Urie, meanwhile, is a larger than life accompaniment. It would be wrong to reveal which Broon he turns up dressed as, but let’s just say he more resembles Desperate Dan in drag.
As with David Greig and Gordon MacIntyre’s collaboration on their indie pop stage rom-com Midsummer this time last year, here is a popular mini musical with substance as well as style. Kay has gone further, subverting – some might say corrupting – a national treasure by making her an independent woman to be reckoned with.
Gay activists take public money to stage Transsexual Jesus play, moan about homophobia – Telegraph Blogs
Gay activists take public money to stage Transsexual Jesus play, moan about homophobia – Telegraph Blogs
Gay activists take public money to stage Transsexual Jesus play, moan about homophobia
By Damian Thompson Religion Last updated: November 4th, 2009
41 Comments Comment on this article
The Glasgay! arts festival is staging a play called Jesus, Queen of Heaven, in which Christ is a man who wants to become a woman. As soon as I read about it, I thought: “I bet some public money has gone into that”. But even I was taken aback when I visited the festival website:
If there’s one thing gay activists love, it’s public money. Though, as you can see, they’re only too thrilled to pick up a bit of commercial sponsorship along the way.
Unsurprisingly, Jesus, Queen of Heaven has provoked protests from Catholics (who are probably unaware that they’re subsidising this venture through income tax, council tax, lottery tickets etc). They have protested outside the Tron Theatre. One banner reads “Jesus, King of Kings, not Queen of Heaven”; another says “God: My Son is not a Pervert”. That last message is unpleasant – but, hey, “Glasgay! supports the right of freedom of expression”, we’re told. Unless, of course, it decides that it’s being subjected to “homophobia” by the Christians it has upset. They are the ones being “provocative”, it seems.
Tricky territory, eh? Let’s turn to the BBC for guidance. Here is the report on its website:
Transsexual Jesus sparks protests
About 300 protesters held a candlelit protest outside a Glasgow theatre over the staging of a play which portrays Jesus as a transsexual.
The protest was held outside the Tron Theatre, where Jesus Queen of Heaven, in which Christ is a man who wants to become a woman, is being staged.
It is part of the Glasgay! arts festival, a celebration of Scotland’s gay, bi-sexual and transsexual culture.
Festival organisers said it had not intended to incite or offend anyone.
The Christian protesters gathered outside the theatre ahead of the opening night of the production on Tuesday.
Jesus Queen of Heaven, which runs until Saturday, is written and performed by transsexual playwright Jo Clifford.
The demonstrators sang hymns and waved placards.
One read: “Jesus, King of Kings, Not Queen of Heaven.”
Another said: “God: My Son Is Not A Pervert.”
Festival organisers described the banners as “fairly provocative” and said they could be viewed as inciting homophobia.
Glasgay! producer Steven Thomson said: “Jesus Queen of Heaven is a literary work of fiction exploring the artists own personal journey of faith as a transgendered person.
“Glasgay! supports the right to freedom of expression and offers audiences a diverse view of LGBT life.
“This work is not intended to incite or offend anyone of any belief system, however, we respect your right to disagree with that opinion.
He added: “We welcome genuinely interested audience members who wish to understand the artistic intention behind this work.”
Glasgay! is described as “Scotland’s annual celebration of queer culture” and is funded by the Scottish Arts Council, Event Scotland, Glasgow City Marketing Bureau and Glasgow City Council.
Can you spot a quote there from one of the Christians offended by this event? Me neither. The report is written from the perspective of the Glasgay! organisers. So, in addition to all the other subsidies it enjoys, Jesus, Queen of Heaven also receives indirect support from the licence fee. Why am I not surprised?
Gay activists take public money to stage Transsexual Jesus play, moan about homophobia
By Damian Thompson Religion Last updated: November 4th, 2009
41 Comments Comment on this article
The Glasgay! arts festival is staging a play called Jesus, Queen of Heaven, in which Christ is a man who wants to become a woman. As soon as I read about it, I thought: “I bet some public money has gone into that”. But even I was taken aback when I visited the festival website:
If there’s one thing gay activists love, it’s public money. Though, as you can see, they’re only too thrilled to pick up a bit of commercial sponsorship along the way.
Unsurprisingly, Jesus, Queen of Heaven has provoked protests from Catholics (who are probably unaware that they’re subsidising this venture through income tax, council tax, lottery tickets etc). They have protested outside the Tron Theatre. One banner reads “Jesus, King of Kings, not Queen of Heaven”; another says “God: My Son is not a Pervert”. That last message is unpleasant – but, hey, “Glasgay! supports the right of freedom of expression”, we’re told. Unless, of course, it decides that it’s being subjected to “homophobia” by the Christians it has upset. They are the ones being “provocative”, it seems.
Tricky territory, eh? Let’s turn to the BBC for guidance. Here is the report on its website:
Transsexual Jesus sparks protests
About 300 protesters held a candlelit protest outside a Glasgow theatre over the staging of a play which portrays Jesus as a transsexual.
The protest was held outside the Tron Theatre, where Jesus Queen of Heaven, in which Christ is a man who wants to become a woman, is being staged.
It is part of the Glasgay! arts festival, a celebration of Scotland’s gay, bi-sexual and transsexual culture.
Festival organisers said it had not intended to incite or offend anyone.
The Christian protesters gathered outside the theatre ahead of the opening night of the production on Tuesday.
Jesus Queen of Heaven, which runs until Saturday, is written and performed by transsexual playwright Jo Clifford.
The demonstrators sang hymns and waved placards.
One read: “Jesus, King of Kings, Not Queen of Heaven.”
Another said: “God: My Son Is Not A Pervert.”
Festival organisers described the banners as “fairly provocative” and said they could be viewed as inciting homophobia.
Glasgay! producer Steven Thomson said: “Jesus Queen of Heaven is a literary work of fiction exploring the artists own personal journey of faith as a transgendered person.
“Glasgay! supports the right to freedom of expression and offers audiences a diverse view of LGBT life.
“This work is not intended to incite or offend anyone of any belief system, however, we respect your right to disagree with that opinion.
He added: “We welcome genuinely interested audience members who wish to understand the artistic intention behind this work.”
Glasgay! is described as “Scotland’s annual celebration of queer culture” and is funded by the Scottish Arts Council, Event Scotland, Glasgow City Marketing Bureau and Glasgow City Council.
Can you spot a quote there from one of the Christians offended by this event? Me neither. The report is written from the perspective of the Glasgay! organisers. So, in addition to all the other subsidies it enjoys, Jesus, Queen of Heaven also receives indirect support from the licence fee. Why am I not surprised?
Jesus Was Not a Transsexual - Religion - Gawker
Jesus Was Not a Transsexual - Religion - Gawker
Jesus Was Not a Transsexual
A play called Jesus, Queen of Heaven, about the bearded one wanting to take a walk on the wild side, hitch up his/her robes, paint his/her nails and become Jesus-ina or whatever is upsetting christians.
Dour Scottish Bible-readers have come up with some placards that they waved outside the theater on opening night in Glasgow yesterday, according to the BBC. They include: "Jesus, King of Kings, Not Queen of Heaven," and "God: My Son Is Not A Pervert." Seriously. They're actually funny if you yell them in a ridiculous Scottish accent.
The play, part of a festival in Glasgow called 'Glasgay!', was written by transsexual playwright Jo Clifford. The producer, Steven Thomson, said "Jesus Queen of Heaven is a literary work of fiction exploring the artists own personal journey of faith as a transgendered person."
"If Glasgow's council taxpayers were consulted, I doubt they would consider this was a good use of their money," responded a spokesman for the Christian Institute.
But it's fine because everyone is forgiven and happy! A blurb on the play's website reads: "And she does not condemn the gays or the queers or the trans women or the trans men, and no, not the straight women nor the straight men neither. Because she is the Daughter of God, most certainly, and almost as certainly the son also. And Gods child condemns nobody. She can only love…" Although apparently she can't punctuate, because 'God's' certainly takes a possessive.
Send an email to Ravi Somaiya, the author of this post, at ravi@gawker.com.
Jesus Was Not a Transsexual
A play called Jesus, Queen of Heaven, about the bearded one wanting to take a walk on the wild side, hitch up his/her robes, paint his/her nails and become Jesus-ina or whatever is upsetting christians.
Dour Scottish Bible-readers have come up with some placards that they waved outside the theater on opening night in Glasgow yesterday, according to the BBC. They include: "Jesus, King of Kings, Not Queen of Heaven," and "God: My Son Is Not A Pervert." Seriously. They're actually funny if you yell them in a ridiculous Scottish accent.
The play, part of a festival in Glasgow called 'Glasgay!', was written by transsexual playwright Jo Clifford. The producer, Steven Thomson, said "Jesus Queen of Heaven is a literary work of fiction exploring the artists own personal journey of faith as a transgendered person."
"If Glasgow's council taxpayers were consulted, I doubt they would consider this was a good use of their money," responded a spokesman for the Christian Institute.
But it's fine because everyone is forgiven and happy! A blurb on the play's website reads: "And she does not condemn the gays or the queers or the trans women or the trans men, and no, not the straight women nor the straight men neither. Because she is the Daughter of God, most certainly, and almost as certainly the son also. And Gods child condemns nobody. She can only love…" Although apparently she can't punctuate, because 'God's' certainly takes a possessive.
Send an email to Ravi Somaiya, the author of this post, at ravi@gawker.com.
BBC NEWS | Scotland | Glasgow, Lanarkshire and West | Transsexual Jesus sparks protests
BBC NEWS | Scotland | Glasgow, Lanarkshire and West | Transsexual Jesus sparks protests
Transsexual Jesus sparks protests
Jesus Queen of Heaven is on at the Tron in Glasgow until Saturday
About 300 protesters held a candlelit protest outside a Glasgow theatre over the staging of a play which portrays Jesus as a transsexual.
The protest was held outside the Tron Theatre, where Jesus Queen of Heaven, in which Christ is a man who wants to become a woman, is being staged.
It is part of the Glasgay! arts festival, a celebration of Scotland's gay, bi-sexual and transsexual culture.
Festival organisers said it had not intended to incite or offend anyone.
The Christian protesters gathered outside the theatre ahead of the opening night of the production on Tuesday.
Jesus Queen of Heaven, which runs until Saturday, is written and performed by transsexual playwright Jo Clifford.
The demonstrators sang hymns and waved placards.
One read: "Jesus, King of Kings, Not Queen of Heaven."
Glasgay! supports the right to freedom of expression and offers audiences a diverse view of LGBT life
Steven Thomson
Festival producer
Another said: "God: My Son Is Not A Pervert."
Festival organisers described the banners as "fairly provocative" and said they could be viewed as inciting homophobia.
Glasgay! producer Steven Thomson said: "Jesus Queen of Heaven is a literary work of fiction exploring the artists own personal journey of faith as a transgendered person.
"Glasgay! supports the right to freedom of expression and offers audiences a diverse view of LGBT life.
"This work is not intended to incite or offend anyone of any belief system, however, we respect your right to disagree with that opinion.
He added: "We welcome genuinely interested audience members who wish to understand the artistic intention behind this work.
Glasgay! is described as "Scotland's annual celebration of queer culture" and is funded by the Scottish Arts Council, Event Scotland, Glasgow City Marketing Bureau and Glasgow City Council.
Transsexual Jesus sparks protests
Jesus Queen of Heaven is on at the Tron in Glasgow until Saturday
About 300 protesters held a candlelit protest outside a Glasgow theatre over the staging of a play which portrays Jesus as a transsexual.
The protest was held outside the Tron Theatre, where Jesus Queen of Heaven, in which Christ is a man who wants to become a woman, is being staged.
It is part of the Glasgay! arts festival, a celebration of Scotland's gay, bi-sexual and transsexual culture.
Festival organisers said it had not intended to incite or offend anyone.
The Christian protesters gathered outside the theatre ahead of the opening night of the production on Tuesday.
Jesus Queen of Heaven, which runs until Saturday, is written and performed by transsexual playwright Jo Clifford.
The demonstrators sang hymns and waved placards.
One read: "Jesus, King of Kings, Not Queen of Heaven."
Glasgay! supports the right to freedom of expression and offers audiences a diverse view of LGBT life
Steven Thomson
Festival producer
Another said: "God: My Son Is Not A Pervert."
Festival organisers described the banners as "fairly provocative" and said they could be viewed as inciting homophobia.
Glasgay! producer Steven Thomson said: "Jesus Queen of Heaven is a literary work of fiction exploring the artists own personal journey of faith as a transgendered person.
"Glasgay! supports the right to freedom of expression and offers audiences a diverse view of LGBT life.
"This work is not intended to incite or offend anyone of any belief system, however, we respect your right to disagree with that opinion.
He added: "We welcome genuinely interested audience members who wish to understand the artistic intention behind this work.
Glasgay! is described as "Scotland's annual celebration of queer culture" and is funded by the Scottish Arts Council, Event Scotland, Glasgow City Marketing Bureau and Glasgow City Council.
YouTube - Tron Theatre Queen of Heaven Blaphemy Glasgow
YouTube - Tron Theatre Queen of Heaven Blaphemy Glasgow
Viewers will note the outpourings of religious sympathy and protest at our play Jesus, Queen of Heaven. Please pay attention to the provocative placards.
Viewers will note the outpourings of religious sympathy and protest at our play Jesus, Queen of Heaven. Please pay attention to the provocative placards.
Christians protest at portrayal of Jesus as transsexual woman - Herald Scotland | News | Home News#have-your-say#have-your-say
Christians protest at portrayal of Jesus as transsexual woman - Herald Scotland | News | Home News#have-your-say#have-your-say
Christians protest at portrayal of Jesus as transsexual woman
Protesters wave placards opposing Jesus, Queen of Heaven at the Tron Theatre in Glasgow.
Martin Williams
0 commentsPublished on 4 Nov 2009
More than 300 Christian protesters demonstrated in the centre of Glasgow last night against a publicly funded play that portrays Jesus as a transsexual woman.
The demonstrators, who waved placards and sang hymns and gospel songs, blocked Chisholm Street for about two hours from 6.30pm as they held a candlelit vigil outside the Tron Theatre where Jesus, Queen of Heaven will run until Saturday.
A ecumenical congregation including Catholics and evangelical Christians voiced their disapproval of the show, which presents Christ as a man who wants to become a woman.
One placard said: “Jesus, King of Kings, Not Queen of Heaven”.
Another stated: “God: My Son Is Not A Pervert”.
The production is part of the Glasgay! arts festival, Scotland’s annual celebration of homosexual culture, which receives funding from Glasgow City Council and the Scottish Arts Council.
The Christian Institute, which is opposed to equality for gay people, has said the festival is “further proof of an agenda to use taxpayers’ money to fund assaults on Christian values.”
Protesters said last night that they did not feel their demonstration would give more publicity to the show they wanted banned.
Jack Bell, pastor of the Zion Baptist Church in Polmadie, said: “We are here to protest against the blasphemy of this play.”
Another demonstrator, Peter Campbell of St Andrew’s Roman Catholic Church in Greenock, said: “I am here to say enough is enough. I feel I have to do something because I don’t feel this is right and I have to stand up for the cause of Jesus.”
Publicity material for the play shows the writer and lead performer of the piece – transsexual Jo (formerly John) Clifford – posing as Christ with crucifixion wounds and a halo.
Glasgay!, which is supported by the city council quango Culture and Sport Glasgow, has already provoked outrage over an exhibition that encouraged the public to graffiti a Bible.
!!!! CORRECTION !!!!
Readers should note that Glasgay! had nothing to do with the Sh[out] exhibition’s Bible “Made In God’s Image” work which is referred to incorrectly here. This work was made by other Culture & Sport funded artists who have nothing to do with Glasgay!.
Jo Clifford’s new theatrical play “Jesus Queen of Heaven” is a literary work of fiction exploring the artists own personal journey of faith as a transgendered person. Glasgay! supports the right to freedom of expression and offers audiences a diverse view of LGBT life. This work is not intended to incite or offend anyone of any belief system however we respect your right to disagree with that opinion. We welcome genuinely interested audience members who wish to understand the artistic intention behind this work.
Christians protest at portrayal of Jesus as transsexual woman
Protesters wave placards opposing Jesus, Queen of Heaven at the Tron Theatre in Glasgow.
Martin Williams
0 commentsPublished on 4 Nov 2009
More than 300 Christian protesters demonstrated in the centre of Glasgow last night against a publicly funded play that portrays Jesus as a transsexual woman.
The demonstrators, who waved placards and sang hymns and gospel songs, blocked Chisholm Street for about two hours from 6.30pm as they held a candlelit vigil outside the Tron Theatre where Jesus, Queen of Heaven will run until Saturday.
A ecumenical congregation including Catholics and evangelical Christians voiced their disapproval of the show, which presents Christ as a man who wants to become a woman.
One placard said: “Jesus, King of Kings, Not Queen of Heaven”.
Another stated: “God: My Son Is Not A Pervert”.
The production is part of the Glasgay! arts festival, Scotland’s annual celebration of homosexual culture, which receives funding from Glasgow City Council and the Scottish Arts Council.
The Christian Institute, which is opposed to equality for gay people, has said the festival is “further proof of an agenda to use taxpayers’ money to fund assaults on Christian values.”
Protesters said last night that they did not feel their demonstration would give more publicity to the show they wanted banned.
Jack Bell, pastor of the Zion Baptist Church in Polmadie, said: “We are here to protest against the blasphemy of this play.”
Another demonstrator, Peter Campbell of St Andrew’s Roman Catholic Church in Greenock, said: “I am here to say enough is enough. I feel I have to do something because I don’t feel this is right and I have to stand up for the cause of Jesus.”
Publicity material for the play shows the writer and lead performer of the piece – transsexual Jo (formerly John) Clifford – posing as Christ with crucifixion wounds and a halo.
Glasgay!, which is supported by the city council quango Culture and Sport Glasgow, has already provoked outrage over an exhibition that encouraged the public to graffiti a Bible.
!!!! CORRECTION !!!!
Readers should note that Glasgay! had nothing to do with the Sh[out] exhibition’s Bible “Made In God’s Image” work which is referred to incorrectly here. This work was made by other Culture & Sport funded artists who have nothing to do with Glasgay!.
Jo Clifford’s new theatrical play “Jesus Queen of Heaven” is a literary work of fiction exploring the artists own personal journey of faith as a transgendered person. Glasgay! supports the right to freedom of expression and offers audiences a diverse view of LGBT life. This work is not intended to incite or offend anyone of any belief system however we respect your right to disagree with that opinion. We welcome genuinely interested audience members who wish to understand the artistic intention behind this work.
Monday, 2 November 2009
‘Could do better’ – Tatchell’s view on Scotland’s gay rights record - Herald Scotland | News | Home News
‘Could do better’ – Tatchell’s view on Scotland’s gay rights record - Herald Scotland | News | Home News
By Mark Smith
0 commentsPublished on 1 Nov 2009
In the Gallery of Modern Art in Glasgow there’s a little black book that shows just how far Scotland has come on gay rights – and how far it still has to go.
For page after page, there are comments like “love is love” and “being different isn’t wrong”. Then suddenly the tone gets darker. Someone has written in thick black ink: “Your all going to the bad fire.” Just underneath that, someone else has had the last laugh: “And you ought to go back to grammatical basics.”
This mix of good, bad and funny (but overwhelmingly good) comments in the visitor’s book for the gallery’s sh[OUT] exhibition reflects the mixed progress Scotland has made on equality for gay and lesbian people. This week Peter Tatchell, the legendary gay rights campaigner, visited the exhibition to deliver a speech on human rights and said that while there are good signs of change in Scotland – such as the new law on gay adoption – there are bad signs too, such as a rise in homophobic attacks.
New figures seem to support him. Strathclyde Police told the Sunday Herald this week that there were 254 homophobic incidents in their area in 2008-09, steeply up from 189 in 2007-08. In 2003-04, there were only 50. Tatchell says this rise may be down to gay people becoming more visible: “As more and more have the confidence to express their affection in public, this makes them vulnerable to the hardcore homophobic minority who still harbour violent responses to homosexuality.”
The recent change in the law on aggravated crime in Scotland – which extends hate-crime legislation, with extra penalties, to cover attacks on gay and lesbians and comes into force next year – will help, says Tatchell, but England and Wales have had this legislation since 2003.
There’s a much higher incidence of homophobic bullying in faith schools. They tend to take less action against it too
“I’m glad some of these deficiencies are now being addressed,” he said. “The additional penalties send a clear signal that Scotland stands for a safe environment for all its people including those who are lesbian and gay.”
Tatchell said last month’s reform which means gay couples in Scotland can now adopt was also a big advance. But again, this is two years behind England and Wales, and Tatchell is angry that the Scottish Government appeared to be willing to consider an exemption for the Catholic Church. Earlier this year the Sunday Herald reported how Fiona Hyslop, the education secretary, told the Church she was comfortable with plans by a Catholic adoption agency in Glasgow to refuse same-sex couples. No-one from the Catholic Church was available yesterday to comment.
“I am disturbed by the way in which the SNP government appears to be willing to appease homophobia within the Catholic hierarchy,” said Tatchell. “Intolerance can never be justified by faith. Allowing same-sex couples to foster and adopt children is a big advance for children and for gay people. This legislation has faced down and defeated the bigotry and intolerance of the Catholic Church.”
Tatchell said Catholic and other faith schools were also a concern. According to a recent report for Stonewall, the gay rights group, secondary school teachers in Britain say homophobic bullying is the second most common form after bullying on weight.
“Faith schools, of which there are plenty in Scotland, are still a major problem,” said Tatchell. “They don’t teach understanding and acceptance of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people to the same extent as state schools and there’s a much higher incidence of homophobic bullying in faith schools. Faith schools tend to take less action against it, too.”
Tatchell does believe that the trend of public opinion is towards greater acceptance, but reaction to the sh[OUT] exhibition shows there are still sensitivities. The show explores the sexuality and lives of LGBT people and concludes today. It attracted controversy over the inclusion of images by Robert Mapplethorpe and organisers were also accused of censorship when they decided not to show video works by Spanish artist Dani Marti.
Sitting among the paintings and sculptures, Tatchell says the critical issue for improving the lives of gay people is tackling that rise in homophobic violence. There have been four homophobic murders in London this year and recently a gang attacked an off-duty policeman outside a gay bar in Liverpool. As well as the rise in Strathclyde, in Grampian there has been an increase from 23 homophobic incidents in 2008 to 31 so far in 2009. Lothian and Borders could not provide figures yesterday.
A spokesperson for Strathclyde Police said the rise could be down to people’s growing confidence in the police and also the mechanisms available for reporting such crimes. The spokesperson
said: “Strathclyde Police encourages reporting of hate crimes and people can do this safe in the knowledge that reports will be investigated thoroughly.”
Carl Watt, the director of Stonewall Scotland, said gay hate crime was a massive problem in Scotland. “These numbers are just the tip of the iceberg, as many lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people still do not feel able to report crimes against them.
“In many ways Scotland may be a less prejudiced place than it was 10 years ago but there is still an enormous amount of work to be done.”
That assessment is close to Tatchell’s. He believes homophobic attacks are the last gasp of hardline homophobes. In many ways, he says, such as on the abolition of Section 28, Scotland led the way. He just wants us to carry on doing it.
By Mark Smith
0 commentsPublished on 1 Nov 2009
In the Gallery of Modern Art in Glasgow there’s a little black book that shows just how far Scotland has come on gay rights – and how far it still has to go.
For page after page, there are comments like “love is love” and “being different isn’t wrong”. Then suddenly the tone gets darker. Someone has written in thick black ink: “Your all going to the bad fire.” Just underneath that, someone else has had the last laugh: “And you ought to go back to grammatical basics.”
This mix of good, bad and funny (but overwhelmingly good) comments in the visitor’s book for the gallery’s sh[OUT] exhibition reflects the mixed progress Scotland has made on equality for gay and lesbian people. This week Peter Tatchell, the legendary gay rights campaigner, visited the exhibition to deliver a speech on human rights and said that while there are good signs of change in Scotland – such as the new law on gay adoption – there are bad signs too, such as a rise in homophobic attacks.
New figures seem to support him. Strathclyde Police told the Sunday Herald this week that there were 254 homophobic incidents in their area in 2008-09, steeply up from 189 in 2007-08. In 2003-04, there were only 50. Tatchell says this rise may be down to gay people becoming more visible: “As more and more have the confidence to express their affection in public, this makes them vulnerable to the hardcore homophobic minority who still harbour violent responses to homosexuality.”
The recent change in the law on aggravated crime in Scotland – which extends hate-crime legislation, with extra penalties, to cover attacks on gay and lesbians and comes into force next year – will help, says Tatchell, but England and Wales have had this legislation since 2003.
There’s a much higher incidence of homophobic bullying in faith schools. They tend to take less action against it too
“I’m glad some of these deficiencies are now being addressed,” he said. “The additional penalties send a clear signal that Scotland stands for a safe environment for all its people including those who are lesbian and gay.”
Tatchell said last month’s reform which means gay couples in Scotland can now adopt was also a big advance. But again, this is two years behind England and Wales, and Tatchell is angry that the Scottish Government appeared to be willing to consider an exemption for the Catholic Church. Earlier this year the Sunday Herald reported how Fiona Hyslop, the education secretary, told the Church she was comfortable with plans by a Catholic adoption agency in Glasgow to refuse same-sex couples. No-one from the Catholic Church was available yesterday to comment.
“I am disturbed by the way in which the SNP government appears to be willing to appease homophobia within the Catholic hierarchy,” said Tatchell. “Intolerance can never be justified by faith. Allowing same-sex couples to foster and adopt children is a big advance for children and for gay people. This legislation has faced down and defeated the bigotry and intolerance of the Catholic Church.”
Tatchell said Catholic and other faith schools were also a concern. According to a recent report for Stonewall, the gay rights group, secondary school teachers in Britain say homophobic bullying is the second most common form after bullying on weight.
“Faith schools, of which there are plenty in Scotland, are still a major problem,” said Tatchell. “They don’t teach understanding and acceptance of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people to the same extent as state schools and there’s a much higher incidence of homophobic bullying in faith schools. Faith schools tend to take less action against it, too.”
Tatchell does believe that the trend of public opinion is towards greater acceptance, but reaction to the sh[OUT] exhibition shows there are still sensitivities. The show explores the sexuality and lives of LGBT people and concludes today. It attracted controversy over the inclusion of images by Robert Mapplethorpe and organisers were also accused of censorship when they decided not to show video works by Spanish artist Dani Marti.
Sitting among the paintings and sculptures, Tatchell says the critical issue for improving the lives of gay people is tackling that rise in homophobic violence. There have been four homophobic murders in London this year and recently a gang attacked an off-duty policeman outside a gay bar in Liverpool. As well as the rise in Strathclyde, in Grampian there has been an increase from 23 homophobic incidents in 2008 to 31 so far in 2009. Lothian and Borders could not provide figures yesterday.
A spokesperson for Strathclyde Police said the rise could be down to people’s growing confidence in the police and also the mechanisms available for reporting such crimes. The spokesperson
said: “Strathclyde Police encourages reporting of hate crimes and people can do this safe in the knowledge that reports will be investigated thoroughly.”
Carl Watt, the director of Stonewall Scotland, said gay hate crime was a massive problem in Scotland. “These numbers are just the tip of the iceberg, as many lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people still do not feel able to report crimes against them.
“In many ways Scotland may be a less prejudiced place than it was 10 years ago but there is still an enormous amount of work to be done.”
That assessment is close to Tatchell’s. He believes homophobic attacks are the last gasp of hardline homophobes. In many ways, he says, such as on the abolition of Section 28, Scotland led the way. He just wants us to carry on doing it.
Sunday, 1 November 2009
Glasgow LGBT Centre
Glasgay! recognises the success of the Castro Group in their proposal to re-establish the LGBT Centre for Glasgow.
Whilst the process and outcome has been disappointing for the festival we remain committed to providing Scotland with a national focus for the positive celebration of our LGBT identity and a strong voice for the issues that face our community.
We look foward to a new, vibrant and wholly inclusive centre for our entire community.
We welcome Glasgow City Council's recommendations to assist us in finding larger premises to more fully match our aspirations for an holistic centre for our arts, social and community enterprise plans.
Whilst the process and outcome has been disappointing for the festival we remain committed to providing Scotland with a national focus for the positive celebration of our LGBT identity and a strong voice for the issues that face our community.
We look foward to a new, vibrant and wholly inclusive centre for our entire community.
We welcome Glasgow City Council's recommendations to assist us in finding larger premises to more fully match our aspirations for an holistic centre for our arts, social and community enterprise plans.
Friday, 30 October 2009
Fears of split in gay community amid row over Glasgow’s one-stop shop - Herald Scotland | News | Politics
Fears of split in gay community amid row over Glasgow’s one-stop shop - Herald Scotland News Politics
Fears of split in gay community amid row over Glasgow’s one-stop shop
Two of Glasgow’s leading gay organisations are opposed to the council’s recommendations
Exclusive, by Gerry Braiden
0 commentsPublished on 30 Oct 2009
Glasgow’s gay community faces a damaging schism following attempts by the city council to hand a popular service to an organisation headed by one of its own senior councillors.
Campaigners and opposition parties have rounded on the proposal that the recently bankrupt Glasgow LGBT Centre, a one-stop shop for the city’s lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community, be taken over by a group called Castro, headed by Councillor Ruth Black, instead of the team behind the Glasgay festival.
Glasgay is said to be furious that Ms Black, who will declare an interest at a meeting today, is also the council’s deputy executive member for equality – a role that could have allowed her access to the Glasgay bid, submitted six months ago. She was previously manager of the LGBT Centre, although left before it closed earlier this year amid rancour and accusations, as well as debts of more than £300,000.
Glasgay claims it has been successful for almost 20 years yet the council wants to give the running of the LGBT centre to an organisation not yet established and with no management, governance or staff arrangements, as well as a direct connection with the previous regime.
Letters have been circulated to all members of the council’s executive by the director of Pride Glasgow, another gay rights organisation, calling on them to reject the council’s recommendations.
The council’s SNP and LibDem groups will also call on the committee to postpone making a decision until bids are resubmitted, with some opposition members saying the proposal lacks transparency.
Last night, one senior source within Glasgow’s gay community warned of “considerable fallout” and “deep unease” if the council’s recommendation goes ahead, while others claim it has already created schisms within those at the forefront of gender politics in the city.
As well as Ms Black, who jumped ship to Labour last year having been Scotland’s only Solidarity councillor, the interim committee for the Castro bid includes Robert Tamburrini, the chief executive of North Glasgow Housing Association, and John Wilkes, head of the Scottish Refugee Council. Glasgay’s personnel includes Green MSP Patrick Harvie, Lynne Sheridan, sister of Tommy, and Glasgow Labour councillor Tom McKeown and his party colleague Irene Graham.
The source said: “Given the track record of the LGBT centre, this isn’t a safe decision to make when using the public’s money. When we
talk about fallout we’re not talking Stonewall riots but a deep unease.”
The LGBT centre was wound up in April, just two years after moving into new premises in the Merchant City. It had provided a range of health and social care services, as well as a bar/cafe. The £1m refurbishment of the Bell Street building included a £300,000 loan from the council, which the Castro bid has said it will pay back. If it goes ahead, the proposal will involve the council
giving Castro £47,000 to re-open the centre.
Last night, SNP councillor Alex Dingwall said: “There is a lack of transparency and detail in the reports and a real danger that the funding issued will mean that at least one of the bids will not be sustainable.”
Paul Coleshill of the LibDems said: “The report has recommended two options, one of which is effectively internal and neither of which have been properly examined. But unsurprisingly the internal option is recommended. Officers should go back and examine the bids against transparent criteria.”
A Glasgay spokesman said: “We don’t feel our bid has been fully examined.”
A council spokesman said: “The recommendation is based on the expert advice of officers from different services across the council. They believe the Castro proposal is more strongly aligned with the social inclusion agenda.”
Ms Black said: “I will declare an interest and will not be involved in the decision-making process. I have had no role in the development of the committee paper and no access to the Glasgay bid.”
Fears of split in gay community amid row over Glasgow’s one-stop shop
Two of Glasgow’s leading gay organisations are opposed to the council’s recommendations
Exclusive, by Gerry Braiden
0 commentsPublished on 30 Oct 2009
Glasgow’s gay community faces a damaging schism following attempts by the city council to hand a popular service to an organisation headed by one of its own senior councillors.
Campaigners and opposition parties have rounded on the proposal that the recently bankrupt Glasgow LGBT Centre, a one-stop shop for the city’s lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community, be taken over by a group called Castro, headed by Councillor Ruth Black, instead of the team behind the Glasgay festival.
Glasgay is said to be furious that Ms Black, who will declare an interest at a meeting today, is also the council’s deputy executive member for equality – a role that could have allowed her access to the Glasgay bid, submitted six months ago. She was previously manager of the LGBT Centre, although left before it closed earlier this year amid rancour and accusations, as well as debts of more than £300,000.
Glasgay claims it has been successful for almost 20 years yet the council wants to give the running of the LGBT centre to an organisation not yet established and with no management, governance or staff arrangements, as well as a direct connection with the previous regime.
Letters have been circulated to all members of the council’s executive by the director of Pride Glasgow, another gay rights organisation, calling on them to reject the council’s recommendations.
The council’s SNP and LibDem groups will also call on the committee to postpone making a decision until bids are resubmitted, with some opposition members saying the proposal lacks transparency.
Last night, one senior source within Glasgow’s gay community warned of “considerable fallout” and “deep unease” if the council’s recommendation goes ahead, while others claim it has already created schisms within those at the forefront of gender politics in the city.
As well as Ms Black, who jumped ship to Labour last year having been Scotland’s only Solidarity councillor, the interim committee for the Castro bid includes Robert Tamburrini, the chief executive of North Glasgow Housing Association, and John Wilkes, head of the Scottish Refugee Council. Glasgay’s personnel includes Green MSP Patrick Harvie, Lynne Sheridan, sister of Tommy, and Glasgow Labour councillor Tom McKeown and his party colleague Irene Graham.
The source said: “Given the track record of the LGBT centre, this isn’t a safe decision to make when using the public’s money. When we
talk about fallout we’re not talking Stonewall riots but a deep unease.”
The LGBT centre was wound up in April, just two years after moving into new premises in the Merchant City. It had provided a range of health and social care services, as well as a bar/cafe. The £1m refurbishment of the Bell Street building included a £300,000 loan from the council, which the Castro bid has said it will pay back. If it goes ahead, the proposal will involve the council
giving Castro £47,000 to re-open the centre.
Last night, SNP councillor Alex Dingwall said: “There is a lack of transparency and detail in the reports and a real danger that the funding issued will mean that at least one of the bids will not be sustainable.”
Paul Coleshill of the LibDems said: “The report has recommended two options, one of which is effectively internal and neither of which have been properly examined. But unsurprisingly the internal option is recommended. Officers should go back and examine the bids against transparent criteria.”
A Glasgay spokesman said: “We don’t feel our bid has been fully examined.”
A council spokesman said: “The recommendation is based on the expert advice of officers from different services across the council. They believe the Castro proposal is more strongly aligned with the social inclusion agenda.”
Ms Black said: “I will declare an interest and will not be involved in the decision-making process. I have had no role in the development of the committee paper and no access to the Glasgay bid.”
Thursday, 29 October 2009
Playing Houses (The Arches) | Glasgow University Guardian
Playing Houses (The Arches) Glasgow University Guardian
Playing Houses (The Arches)
October 23rd, 2009
Phoebe More Gordon
Playing Houses is the first full-length play by Glaswegian actor and writer Martin O’Connor. Commissioned by the Glasgay! Festival, the piece sets out to explore the event’s theme of families.
The story is of a mother and her three boys who struggle to cope with an absent husband and father. On the night of the Big Brother evictions, the boys’ father has supposedly returned. But the event is layered with the preoccupations faced by each one of the characters. Their concerns and anxieties are shown to be meticulously intertwined with issues of positive role models, male identity, teenage culture, and the significance of the media.
The youngest of the three sons, Sean, is played by the talented Scott Fletcher, whose striking performance is particularly absorbing. The especially Scottish context of Playing Houses proves thoroughly appropriate to the home-grown feel that Festival Director Steven Thomson seeks for this year’s turn out.
As for the look of the play, the use of very minimalistic decor is fitting to O’Connor’s intensions of a deliberately lo-fi setting. Indeed, this is successful in creating the intended intimacy between characters and audience, which is taken even further by the superb venue itself — a small cave-like room of the Arches.
A number of individual pedestals are installed across the stage, the use of which generates a largely alienating and isolating effect upon the characters, for whom the absence of a predominant male figure marginalises them not only independently, but also on a wider scale within their society. Each actor moves around the stage only occasionally, otherwise remaining confined to their respective pedestals, seemingly condemned to these restricted spaces.
The manipulation of light makes up part of the cleverly structured framework of the play. In a style that is significantly reminiscent of Beckett’s use of lighting in Play (1963), the characters’ speech is controlled by the ambivalent spotlight, which both triggers and blocks their discourse throughout. Each of their accounts is thus fragmented to form a cleverly constructed dialogue. The narrative is cut up and then neatly re-ordered, producing the sharp and edgy interchange of Playing Houses.
The use of authentic characters allows a highly effective reflection on modern life. The intricacies of the staging are equally compelling, and overall make for a provocative play.
Playing Houses (The Arches)
October 23rd, 2009
Phoebe More Gordon
Playing Houses is the first full-length play by Glaswegian actor and writer Martin O’Connor. Commissioned by the Glasgay! Festival, the piece sets out to explore the event’s theme of families.
The story is of a mother and her three boys who struggle to cope with an absent husband and father. On the night of the Big Brother evictions, the boys’ father has supposedly returned. But the event is layered with the preoccupations faced by each one of the characters. Their concerns and anxieties are shown to be meticulously intertwined with issues of positive role models, male identity, teenage culture, and the significance of the media.
The youngest of the three sons, Sean, is played by the talented Scott Fletcher, whose striking performance is particularly absorbing. The especially Scottish context of Playing Houses proves thoroughly appropriate to the home-grown feel that Festival Director Steven Thomson seeks for this year’s turn out.
As for the look of the play, the use of very minimalistic decor is fitting to O’Connor’s intensions of a deliberately lo-fi setting. Indeed, this is successful in creating the intended intimacy between characters and audience, which is taken even further by the superb venue itself — a small cave-like room of the Arches.
A number of individual pedestals are installed across the stage, the use of which generates a largely alienating and isolating effect upon the characters, for whom the absence of a predominant male figure marginalises them not only independently, but also on a wider scale within their society. Each actor moves around the stage only occasionally, otherwise remaining confined to their respective pedestals, seemingly condemned to these restricted spaces.
The manipulation of light makes up part of the cleverly structured framework of the play. In a style that is significantly reminiscent of Beckett’s use of lighting in Play (1963), the characters’ speech is controlled by the ambivalent spotlight, which both triggers and blocks their discourse throughout. Each of their accounts is thus fragmented to form a cleverly constructed dialogue. The narrative is cut up and then neatly re-ordered, producing the sharp and edgy interchange of Playing Houses.
The use of authentic characters allows a highly effective reflection on modern life. The intricacies of the staging are equally compelling, and overall make for a provocative play.
Wednesday, 28 October 2009
Glasgow University Student Television » G-Spot
Glasgow University Student Television » G-Spot
catch up with Glasgow Uni's cool TV interview with the ever so lovely Dee Heddon and the inside scoop on Glasgay highlights.
catch up with Glasgow Uni's cool TV interview with the ever so lovely Dee Heddon and the inside scoop on Glasgay highlights.
Regina, Glasgay! @Tramway, Glasgow
Regina, Glasgay! @Tramway, Glasgow
http://www.heraldscotland.com/arts-ents/stage-visual-arts/regina-glasgay-tramway-glasgow-1.928462
Mary Brennan
Published on 25 Oct 2009
Dancing was, by all accounts, a favourite past-time for Queen Elizabeth: even into advanced old age, she’d kick up her heels in private, albeit without a partner.
Perhaps it stirred memories of when, held close by the favoured Earl of Leicester, she’d revelled in the high, leg-exposing leaps of La Volta – not just a monarch, but a woman.
Dancing is something that Tom Sapsford does with brio, grace and what seems to be an intuitive expressiveness. So when, in the farthingaled guise of Good Queen Bess – face a white mask, framed by an elaborate ruff – Sapsford springs and capers with neat (bare) feet or glides into patterns of courtly steps, embellished with precise quirks of wrist or finger, then Regina is quite wonderful to watch. Even when, ornamental headdress discarded, he stands still so that projections can play across his face – affording us an image of the “public icon” and the individual, at odds, within – there’s enough to hold our attention.
However, the sequences where Sapsford lip-syncs to a voiceover culled from Elizabeth’s letters, or the writings of her contemporaries, pall all too quickly. In part, it’s the density of the spoken text, unrelieved by any action. In part, it’s the tone of Elizabeth McKechnie’s delivery which verges, unnervingly, on Margaret Thatcher.
And when a plaster bust replaces Sapsford centre-stage, despite the play of historical likenesses over it, the trundling on of yet more taped oratory is simply tedious. The welcome highpoints are Sapsford dancing, abetted by Agnes Dromgoole as the little girl/inner child who sails the model Armada fleet across the floor like toys.
http://www.heraldscotland.com/arts-ents/stage-visual-arts/regina-glasgay-tramway-glasgow-1.928462
Mary Brennan
Published on 25 Oct 2009
Dancing was, by all accounts, a favourite past-time for Queen Elizabeth: even into advanced old age, she’d kick up her heels in private, albeit without a partner.
Perhaps it stirred memories of when, held close by the favoured Earl of Leicester, she’d revelled in the high, leg-exposing leaps of La Volta – not just a monarch, but a woman.
Dancing is something that Tom Sapsford does with brio, grace and what seems to be an intuitive expressiveness. So when, in the farthingaled guise of Good Queen Bess – face a white mask, framed by an elaborate ruff – Sapsford springs and capers with neat (bare) feet or glides into patterns of courtly steps, embellished with precise quirks of wrist or finger, then Regina is quite wonderful to watch. Even when, ornamental headdress discarded, he stands still so that projections can play across his face – affording us an image of the “public icon” and the individual, at odds, within – there’s enough to hold our attention.
However, the sequences where Sapsford lip-syncs to a voiceover culled from Elizabeth’s letters, or the writings of her contemporaries, pall all too quickly. In part, it’s the density of the spoken text, unrelieved by any action. In part, it’s the tone of Elizabeth McKechnie’s delivery which verges, unnervingly, on Margaret Thatcher.
And when a plaster bust replaces Sapsford centre-stage, despite the play of historical likenesses over it, the trundling on of yet more taped oratory is simply tedious. The welcome highpoints are Sapsford dancing, abetted by Agnes Dromgoole as the little girl/inner child who sails the model Armada fleet across the floor like toys.
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
The dark side of Maw Broon - Times Online
The dark side of Maw Broon - Times Online
From The Sunday Times
October 25, 2009
The dark side of Maw Broon
Jackie Kay is taking Scotland’s best loved cartoon mother from page to stage with a modern twist
by Anna Burnside
Maw Broon and her rambunctious multigenerational family occupy a unique place in the Scottish psyche. We read about their exploits in the Sunday Post, or in an annual, as if they were distant relations, the Auchenshoogle branch of every Scottish clan. But they are not. They are two-dimensional black-and-white period pieces. Dudley Watkins inked his first cartoon strip in 1936 and glamourpuss Maggie and bunnet-wearing Paw have not changed since.
“If you read a 19th-century novel, or one set in the 1930s, you are aware that you are reading something historical,” says Jackie Kay, a writer and long-time Broons fan. “But with the Broons you are not. Somehow, we manage to keep them contemporary.”
This is meat and drink — or should that be mince and tatties? — to a playful writer such as Kay. She has been throwing Maw, complete with pinny and iron-grey bun, into the present day for over 10 years now. Her first poem featuring the matriarch of Glebe Street — Maw Broon visits the therapist — was published in 1998.
After several more appearances in Kay’s poetry collections, Maw Broon is now the star of her own full-length show, with 10 monologues and seven songs, at Glasgow’s Tron Theatre. For Kay, this was a logical extension of her one-off poems.
When Maw Broon met Gordon at No 10
“I’ve always liked the Broons. I grew up with the annuals; I loved the family. They were so detailed, they were all so different: clever Horace, pretty Maggie. Maw was always so down to earth, so dowdy, in her pinny. I wanted to have her doing things she would never do in the cartoon. It instantly forces you to look at her with a fresh eye.”
This opens the door to all kinds of comic juxtapositions, as well as allowing Kay to make some serious points about a generation of women who have hung up their pinnies and forgotten how to pot their own hough. “People identify her as a type, as if she did exist. They see her as part of their family and take her for granted.” So when Maw Broon contemplates global warming, or the plumbing arrangements beneath her stout woollen drawers — both monologue subjects — it is impossible not to listen.
They may be called monologues but there are two Maws on the stage: the real Maw Broon and her black alter ego. Kay knew from the start that they would not be monologues; these women are one and the same, Maw and “her psyche, her subconscious, her alter ego, whatever you want to call her”.
This allows Kay, a black woman who was adopted and grew up in Bishopbriggs with her white parents, to “play with being black and Scottish in a lighthearted way. For a start, it takes for granted that there are black people in Scotland, which of course there are. But all the traditional images, from shortbread tins to Maw Broon herself, are white. I wanted to reflect a change in our national self image. The one we have is out of date”.
So these are jokes that jag. Maw, on her odyssey of self-discovery, appears on a reality TV show, Scotland’s Got Talent. She also has to come face to face with her own reality, when her alter ego tells her that she is, in fact, a cartoon. Glebe Street, the butt’n’ben, the ironing board are all just black lines on a white sheet of paper.
This is devastating for Maw, but a great opportunity for Kay. “I had to shatter her illusions,” she says. “I wanted to explore how obsessed society is with reality TV and celebrity culture, the way her fiction becomes a kind of reality. Everything is the wrong way round and I thought that was rich ground for a cartoon to explore.”
Nothing is off-limits. Kay has her heroine back on the psychiatrist’s couch, suffering the indignity of colonic irrigation, singing the blues, contemplating the Greens. She even, when faced with Paw’s apparent infidelity, wonders if she has been batting for the wrong team all these years. (The show is, after all, part of the Glasgay festival.) When she meets her namesake in 10 Downing Street, the bold Maw even considers applying for his job.
“I thought it was a good political opportunity,” says Kay. “We are all so lost at the moment. These are dark times to live through. Our beliefs have taken a knocking; there is so much political apathy and horrible things happening, like the BNP on Question Time. If Maw Broon stood for prime minister, how refreshing would that be? We would have a different Britain altogether.”
The Maw Broon Monologues,Tron Theatre, Glasgow, November 3-8, www.tron.co.uk
From The Sunday Times
October 25, 2009
The dark side of Maw Broon
Jackie Kay is taking Scotland’s best loved cartoon mother from page to stage with a modern twist
by Anna Burnside
Maw Broon and her rambunctious multigenerational family occupy a unique place in the Scottish psyche. We read about their exploits in the Sunday Post, or in an annual, as if they were distant relations, the Auchenshoogle branch of every Scottish clan. But they are not. They are two-dimensional black-and-white period pieces. Dudley Watkins inked his first cartoon strip in 1936 and glamourpuss Maggie and bunnet-wearing Paw have not changed since.
“If you read a 19th-century novel, or one set in the 1930s, you are aware that you are reading something historical,” says Jackie Kay, a writer and long-time Broons fan. “But with the Broons you are not. Somehow, we manage to keep them contemporary.”
This is meat and drink — or should that be mince and tatties? — to a playful writer such as Kay. She has been throwing Maw, complete with pinny and iron-grey bun, into the present day for over 10 years now. Her first poem featuring the matriarch of Glebe Street — Maw Broon visits the therapist — was published in 1998.
After several more appearances in Kay’s poetry collections, Maw Broon is now the star of her own full-length show, with 10 monologues and seven songs, at Glasgow’s Tron Theatre. For Kay, this was a logical extension of her one-off poems.
When Maw Broon met Gordon at No 10
“I’ve always liked the Broons. I grew up with the annuals; I loved the family. They were so detailed, they were all so different: clever Horace, pretty Maggie. Maw was always so down to earth, so dowdy, in her pinny. I wanted to have her doing things she would never do in the cartoon. It instantly forces you to look at her with a fresh eye.”
This opens the door to all kinds of comic juxtapositions, as well as allowing Kay to make some serious points about a generation of women who have hung up their pinnies and forgotten how to pot their own hough. “People identify her as a type, as if she did exist. They see her as part of their family and take her for granted.” So when Maw Broon contemplates global warming, or the plumbing arrangements beneath her stout woollen drawers — both monologue subjects — it is impossible not to listen.
They may be called monologues but there are two Maws on the stage: the real Maw Broon and her black alter ego. Kay knew from the start that they would not be monologues; these women are one and the same, Maw and “her psyche, her subconscious, her alter ego, whatever you want to call her”.
This allows Kay, a black woman who was adopted and grew up in Bishopbriggs with her white parents, to “play with being black and Scottish in a lighthearted way. For a start, it takes for granted that there are black people in Scotland, which of course there are. But all the traditional images, from shortbread tins to Maw Broon herself, are white. I wanted to reflect a change in our national self image. The one we have is out of date”.
So these are jokes that jag. Maw, on her odyssey of self-discovery, appears on a reality TV show, Scotland’s Got Talent. She also has to come face to face with her own reality, when her alter ego tells her that she is, in fact, a cartoon. Glebe Street, the butt’n’ben, the ironing board are all just black lines on a white sheet of paper.
This is devastating for Maw, but a great opportunity for Kay. “I had to shatter her illusions,” she says. “I wanted to explore how obsessed society is with reality TV and celebrity culture, the way her fiction becomes a kind of reality. Everything is the wrong way round and I thought that was rich ground for a cartoon to explore.”
Nothing is off-limits. Kay has her heroine back on the psychiatrist’s couch, suffering the indignity of colonic irrigation, singing the blues, contemplating the Greens. She even, when faced with Paw’s apparent infidelity, wonders if she has been batting for the wrong team all these years. (The show is, after all, part of the Glasgay festival.) When she meets her namesake in 10 Downing Street, the bold Maw even considers applying for his job.
“I thought it was a good political opportunity,” says Kay. “We are all so lost at the moment. These are dark times to live through. Our beliefs have taken a knocking; there is so much political apathy and horrible things happening, like the BNP on Question Time. If Maw Broon stood for prime minister, how refreshing would that be? We would have a different Britain altogether.”
The Maw Broon Monologues,Tron Theatre, Glasgow, November 3-8, www.tron.co.uk
Interview: Jackie Kay, poet, playwright and novelist - Scotsman.com News
Interview: Jackie Kay, poet, playwright and novelist - Scotsman.com News
Interview: Jackie Kay, poet, playwright and novelist
Published Date: 27 October 2009
By Susan Mansfield
IF YOU had to pick a character from Scottish fiction, a woman with spirit who could bring a sage outlook to our troubled times, a female protagonist ready for a journey of self-discovery, would you find your heroine in… Maw Broon?
Jackie Kay believes the matriarch of the much-loved cartoon family, forever cleaning the tenement stairs with mop and bucket, is more than capable of an adventure which takes in meeting the Prime Minister ("Nae relation!"), a reality talent show, Tolstoy, climate change and colonic irrigation. She is set to prove it when The Maw Broon Monologues premieres at Glasgow's Tron next week.
"She's crying out for a feminist revision," says Kay, an award-winning poet, playwright and novelist. "The idea of thinking Maw Broon into different situations and reinventing her for the 21st century has always tickled me. She has gravitas, she's serious, she's political, she's funny. There's a lot of ground to explore."Kay wrote her first Maw Broon poem in the late 1990s for her collection Off Colour, themed around health and disease. "I felt the poems were very serious and wanted to take them somewhere else. Then I had this idea, what if Maw Broon visits a psychiatrist? There's such a lot of reverence for the world of therapy and I thought she'd be the perfect person to puncture that. It seemed to me instantly funny, so then I made up my mind that I'd put a Maw Broon poem in every collection after that."
Kay, who is a wonderful performer of her own work, found audiences were delighted. "I was doing a reading in Paris, and at the end this beautiful young Parisian woman came up and said: 'Oh, I'm so delighted to hear Maw Broon, I missed her since my days in Dundee'."The way Kay emerges smiling from rehearsals suggests she's having fun; unsurprising given the combined energies of Kay, director Maggie Kinloch and actresses Terry Neason (Maw Broon) and Suzanne Bonnar (Maw Broon's doppelganger). Tom Urie's score has Maw doing a Susan Boyle with big musical numbers.But it's not all about laughs. At the same time as writing the Monologues, Kay has been writing a memoir about tracing her birth father, who is Nigerian. "I have this sense of having two lives, a life that I lived and a life that I didn't live. The idea of the double fits into that. I feel like I'm exploring what it is to be black and Scottish through Maw Broon, which has been easier and more fun than writing the memoir. It's been nice to have her as a companion."
Kay also dedicates the show to her adoptive mother, who was taught to draw cartoons as a child by Dudley D Watkins, who drew The Broons, Oor Wullie and Desperate Dan.Like many Scots, Kay grew up with Broons annuals every second Christmas. The characters, launched on 8March, 1936, have changed little in 70 years. "Each of them has a whole personality that's as thought through as any character in a novel. They're way ahead of their time in cartoon terms. It would be nice if someone did a comparative study between The Broons and The Simpsons."Kay had no problem recreating Maw Broon as a 21st-century woman on a quest for fulfilment. She says she has enough ideas to write a second show, and is considering doing one every second Christmas. Maw Broon, is well placed to comment on the times."
It's like the way pantos do up-to-the-minute jokes. I grew up watching theatre companies like 7:84 and Wildcat, political theatre with music, and seeing the potential theatre has for affecting a society in a given moment because it captures something."In 'Maw Broon Meet Gordon Broon', she is saying the Tory party is rubbish, the Labour party's let us down, let Maw Broon stand for Prime Minister ('the first ever woman cos ye cannae count Thatcher'). I know that's a humorous idea because her second name's the same as Gordon Brown's, but there's a serious side. There needs to be a complete change, a fresh way of looking at ourselves."What they should have had facing (BNP leader] Nick Griffin on Question Time was Maw Broon. She'd do a good job with him."
The Maw Broon Monologues is at the Tron, Glasgow, 3-8 November, as part of Glasgay! www.glasgay.co.uk
First published in Scotland on Sunday on 25 October 2009
Interview: Jackie Kay, poet, playwright and novelist
Published Date: 27 October 2009
By Susan Mansfield
IF YOU had to pick a character from Scottish fiction, a woman with spirit who could bring a sage outlook to our troubled times, a female protagonist ready for a journey of self-discovery, would you find your heroine in… Maw Broon?
Jackie Kay believes the matriarch of the much-loved cartoon family, forever cleaning the tenement stairs with mop and bucket, is more than capable of an adventure which takes in meeting the Prime Minister ("Nae relation!"), a reality talent show, Tolstoy, climate change and colonic irrigation. She is set to prove it when The Maw Broon Monologues premieres at Glasgow's Tron next week.
"She's crying out for a feminist revision," says Kay, an award-winning poet, playwright and novelist. "The idea of thinking Maw Broon into different situations and reinventing her for the 21st century has always tickled me. She has gravitas, she's serious, she's political, she's funny. There's a lot of ground to explore."Kay wrote her first Maw Broon poem in the late 1990s for her collection Off Colour, themed around health and disease. "I felt the poems were very serious and wanted to take them somewhere else. Then I had this idea, what if Maw Broon visits a psychiatrist? There's such a lot of reverence for the world of therapy and I thought she'd be the perfect person to puncture that. It seemed to me instantly funny, so then I made up my mind that I'd put a Maw Broon poem in every collection after that."
Kay, who is a wonderful performer of her own work, found audiences were delighted. "I was doing a reading in Paris, and at the end this beautiful young Parisian woman came up and said: 'Oh, I'm so delighted to hear Maw Broon, I missed her since my days in Dundee'."The way Kay emerges smiling from rehearsals suggests she's having fun; unsurprising given the combined energies of Kay, director Maggie Kinloch and actresses Terry Neason (Maw Broon) and Suzanne Bonnar (Maw Broon's doppelganger). Tom Urie's score has Maw doing a Susan Boyle with big musical numbers.But it's not all about laughs. At the same time as writing the Monologues, Kay has been writing a memoir about tracing her birth father, who is Nigerian. "I have this sense of having two lives, a life that I lived and a life that I didn't live. The idea of the double fits into that. I feel like I'm exploring what it is to be black and Scottish through Maw Broon, which has been easier and more fun than writing the memoir. It's been nice to have her as a companion."
Kay also dedicates the show to her adoptive mother, who was taught to draw cartoons as a child by Dudley D Watkins, who drew The Broons, Oor Wullie and Desperate Dan.Like many Scots, Kay grew up with Broons annuals every second Christmas. The characters, launched on 8March, 1936, have changed little in 70 years. "Each of them has a whole personality that's as thought through as any character in a novel. They're way ahead of their time in cartoon terms. It would be nice if someone did a comparative study between The Broons and The Simpsons."Kay had no problem recreating Maw Broon as a 21st-century woman on a quest for fulfilment. She says she has enough ideas to write a second show, and is considering doing one every second Christmas. Maw Broon, is well placed to comment on the times."
It's like the way pantos do up-to-the-minute jokes. I grew up watching theatre companies like 7:84 and Wildcat, political theatre with music, and seeing the potential theatre has for affecting a society in a given moment because it captures something."In 'Maw Broon Meet Gordon Broon', she is saying the Tory party is rubbish, the Labour party's let us down, let Maw Broon stand for Prime Minister ('the first ever woman cos ye cannae count Thatcher'). I know that's a humorous idea because her second name's the same as Gordon Brown's, but there's a serious side. There needs to be a complete change, a fresh way of looking at ourselves."What they should have had facing (BNP leader] Nick Griffin on Question Time was Maw Broon. She'd do a good job with him."
The Maw Broon Monologues is at the Tron, Glasgow, 3-8 November, as part of Glasgay! www.glasgay.co.uk
First published in Scotland on Sunday on 25 October 2009
Monday, 26 October 2009
A Child Made Of Love – Tron Theatre, Glasgow – 20th-24th October 2009 - Magazine - UK Theatre Network
A Child Made Of Love – Tron Theatre, Glasgow – 20th-24th October 2009 - Magazine - UK Theatre Network
A return to the Glasgay Festival for playwright Matthew McVarish, after the success of last year’s “To Kill A Kelpie”, with another issue based theatrical piece.
Having reviewed To Kill A Kelpie last year, and being extremely impressed by this new author, I was intrigued to see a piece that was billed as not written by, but created by Matthew McVarish. On further reading it appears this production was as much of an experiment in writing styles as it was in creating a new piece of theatre. This did give me sense of trepidation; however I’m pleased to say that this was one experiment that was far removed from Frankenstein’s Monster!
What has been created, through a collaborative writing process from the actors and creator, is a touching piece of theatre which manages to sensitively portray the story of a couple who are unable to naturally have a child, and are going through the decisions and processes involved in adoption. The fact that the couple are both men is another layer to the story which adds both drama and humour in equal measure. The piece is sympathetically played to make the audience appreciate the ideals of the couple who wish to adopt, but also challenges the characters and forces them to give forth their reasons, showing that these are no different than the reasons of any childless couple with a desire to become a parent.
The continual thread of “children’s stories” that runs through the play is a nice way to allow comedy into some very serious moments. The moment of genius that is the courtroom cross examination, interjected with readings from the story of Pinocchio highlights this beautifully. As co-authors to the piece, actors Andrew Agnew and Ed Corrie have obviously had some input into the development of their characters, and this has helped create extremely believable performances on the stage. Mr Agnew as Joe, a frustrated children’s author, shows a gentle maternal human being, whose need to become a parent bubbles under the surface as a frustration that could combust in tears at any moment. Mr Corrie, as Mike, brings his frustration to the fore. His intense portrayal of the family lawyer torn apart by his circumstances in both his work and home life brought another real layer of humanity to the piece. The relationship between both these actors was so natural and believable, that at times it did feel as if the audience were intruding in a family home.
The third actor in the piece was Kai Ross, who at 8 years old has a level of maturity that will carry him well in this business. His ethereal appearances throughout the story were another excellent use of imagery, and his interactions with the adult actors, and the audience were perfectly pitched on the right side of “cute”. The play does have moments that are a little “saccharine”, however this does lend itself well to the “Children’s Story” theme and director Lauren Graham does not allow this to take the play into tacky sentimentality.
Although this is “issue based theatre”, the issue at hand is sensitively depicted without forcing any messages to the audience. This is a moving, humorous play, which draws laughter and tears from its audience but ultimately, and most importantly, entertains.
Tron Theatre, Glasgow – 20th-24th October 7.45pm
A return to the Glasgay Festival for playwright Matthew McVarish, after the success of last year’s “To Kill A Kelpie”, with another issue based theatrical piece.
Having reviewed To Kill A Kelpie last year, and being extremely impressed by this new author, I was intrigued to see a piece that was billed as not written by, but created by Matthew McVarish. On further reading it appears this production was as much of an experiment in writing styles as it was in creating a new piece of theatre. This did give me sense of trepidation; however I’m pleased to say that this was one experiment that was far removed from Frankenstein’s Monster!
What has been created, through a collaborative writing process from the actors and creator, is a touching piece of theatre which manages to sensitively portray the story of a couple who are unable to naturally have a child, and are going through the decisions and processes involved in adoption. The fact that the couple are both men is another layer to the story which adds both drama and humour in equal measure. The piece is sympathetically played to make the audience appreciate the ideals of the couple who wish to adopt, but also challenges the characters and forces them to give forth their reasons, showing that these are no different than the reasons of any childless couple with a desire to become a parent.
The continual thread of “children’s stories” that runs through the play is a nice way to allow comedy into some very serious moments. The moment of genius that is the courtroom cross examination, interjected with readings from the story of Pinocchio highlights this beautifully. As co-authors to the piece, actors Andrew Agnew and Ed Corrie have obviously had some input into the development of their characters, and this has helped create extremely believable performances on the stage. Mr Agnew as Joe, a frustrated children’s author, shows a gentle maternal human being, whose need to become a parent bubbles under the surface as a frustration that could combust in tears at any moment. Mr Corrie, as Mike, brings his frustration to the fore. His intense portrayal of the family lawyer torn apart by his circumstances in both his work and home life brought another real layer of humanity to the piece. The relationship between both these actors was so natural and believable, that at times it did feel as if the audience were intruding in a family home.
The third actor in the piece was Kai Ross, who at 8 years old has a level of maturity that will carry him well in this business. His ethereal appearances throughout the story were another excellent use of imagery, and his interactions with the adult actors, and the audience were perfectly pitched on the right side of “cute”. The play does have moments that are a little “saccharine”, however this does lend itself well to the “Children’s Story” theme and director Lauren Graham does not allow this to take the play into tacky sentimentality.
Although this is “issue based theatre”, the issue at hand is sensitively depicted without forcing any messages to the audience. This is a moving, humorous play, which draws laughter and tears from its audience but ultimately, and most importantly, entertains.
Tron Theatre, Glasgow – 20th-24th October 7.45pm
Theatre review: A Child Made Of Love - Scotsman.com Living
Theatre review: A Child Made Of Love - Scotsman.com Living
By Joyce McMillan
TRON THEATRE, GLASGOW***
OF ALL the themes to emerge from gay theatre over the past 25 years, the story of gay men who yearn for fatherhood has been the slowest to surface. Now, though, many gay couples are facing the familiar dilemmas of parenthood, with the added complications of adoption or surrogacy.Matthew McVarish's A Child Made Of Love – commissioned by Glasgay! and seen at the Tron last week – is a soft-hearted little drama, with a song thrown in, about a loving gay couple and their quest for a son; indeed, if Oscar Wilde had been around, he might have called it a play of "more than usually revolting sentimentality", so shamelessly does it twang our heartstrings. It is performed with great heart and skill, though, by Andrew Agnew and Ed Corrie, with superb child actor Kai Ross as the image of their future son; and, simple though it is, it signals a whole new era of intense male involvement in the business of parenthood and child-raising.It's worth noting, too, that there was a much sharper take on the gay quest for fatherhood in Markus Makavellian's rap show International Order, at the Arches last week. Makavellian – aka Drew Taylor – is a performer who comes on in outrageous drag-queen gear and sets out to shock. After a while, though, he pulls off his sparkly wig and emerges as a formidable performance poet. His voice is raw, clever and disturbing, and we will be hearing much more of it in years to come.
By Joyce McMillan
TRON THEATRE, GLASGOW***
OF ALL the themes to emerge from gay theatre over the past 25 years, the story of gay men who yearn for fatherhood has been the slowest to surface. Now, though, many gay couples are facing the familiar dilemmas of parenthood, with the added complications of adoption or surrogacy.Matthew McVarish's A Child Made Of Love – commissioned by Glasgay! and seen at the Tron last week – is a soft-hearted little drama, with a song thrown in, about a loving gay couple and their quest for a son; indeed, if Oscar Wilde had been around, he might have called it a play of "more than usually revolting sentimentality", so shamelessly does it twang our heartstrings. It is performed with great heart and skill, though, by Andrew Agnew and Ed Corrie, with superb child actor Kai Ross as the image of their future son; and, simple though it is, it signals a whole new era of intense male involvement in the business of parenthood and child-raising.It's worth noting, too, that there was a much sharper take on the gay quest for fatherhood in Markus Makavellian's rap show International Order, at the Arches last week. Makavellian – aka Drew Taylor – is a performer who comes on in outrageous drag-queen gear and sets out to shock. After a while, though, he pulls off his sparkly wig and emerges as a formidable performance poet. His voice is raw, clever and disturbing, and we will be hearing much more of it in years to come.
Saturday, 24 October 2009
International Order (The Arches) | Glasgow University Guardian
International Order (The Arches) Glasgow University Guardian
International Order (The Arches)
Posted by Dominic Maxwell-Lewis • October 23rd, 2009
Telling tales in possibly the most flamboyant way imaginable, Drew Taylor adds incredible flare to his performance as Markus Makavellian at this year’s Glasgay! festival. A mixture of stories, told in flowing metrical dialogue, dip from streams of consciousness to structured word play to magnificent effect.
His show, International Order, seems to be a retort to the compartmentalisation of lifestyles in a decade dominated by media obsession and emotional objectification. The steps taken towards the event, billed as ‘performance poetry’, were naturally tentative — it seems to be a common mindset that these kinds of things can go either way.For those who have not experienced performance art of any kind before, it is certainly an unnerving concept. The lack of parameters denote a free form in which all features of a person’s self can be displayed, and unsurprisingly, this kind of environment can lead to self-indulgence of the most tedious kind.
It’s apparent from the outset that Markus Makavellian doesn’t want us to be alienated from him, despite the outlandish, pseudo-military drag outfit. A scatological opening segment makes it clear that we are all human and function in the same way, and from this moment on, audience and performer are equal.
Leading on from this, a combative approach to the issues of love, lust and self-validation throughout Taylor’s life lends itself to the debris surrounding the stage, which seems to be representative of a battlefield. During the trio of monologues entitled “Do you like being the man now?”, muffled sounds of war play over the speakers; pieces which seem to illustrate the significance of ‘the other’ in the life of Drew Taylor.
The vignettes serve as a template for his life, in which he is found to be living vicariously through others and repeating certain routines. This is made clear in the dialogue, whereby times, places and images are used to different effects through the use of repetition — although how closely the persona of Markus Makavellian mirrors that of performer Drew Taylor is somewhat unclear.
The observations in the show are often that of a wide-eyed child, whilst at the same time knowing and cynical. Some of the stories border on a more solipsistic side of Markus, which perhaps is closer to the man himself. A person seemingly ruled by relationships — and bruised as a result of some — is very easy to empathise with, so it is difficult to be critical of a performance made up of so much deeply personal material.
There are funny moments too, and it seemed as though their purpose was to offset the serious tone that seemed to loom when subjects became too weighty. This was particularly apparent at the end of the show when, after a beautiful ode to a loved one, a short comic ditty caps off the evening, which seemed to cheapen the sentiment that preceded it.
Although this approach seemed to lessen the performance for me, to a certain extent it seemed necessary, as some of the audience, beer in hand, had come to laugh — and indeed the observational wit of Markus Makavellian’s world is truly entertaining.
International Order is a thoroughly engaging and at times very moving experience — and makes a terrific addition to the already strong Glasgay! festival line-up.
International Order (The Arches)
Posted by Dominic Maxwell-Lewis • October 23rd, 2009
Telling tales in possibly the most flamboyant way imaginable, Drew Taylor adds incredible flare to his performance as Markus Makavellian at this year’s Glasgay! festival. A mixture of stories, told in flowing metrical dialogue, dip from streams of consciousness to structured word play to magnificent effect.
His show, International Order, seems to be a retort to the compartmentalisation of lifestyles in a decade dominated by media obsession and emotional objectification. The steps taken towards the event, billed as ‘performance poetry’, were naturally tentative — it seems to be a common mindset that these kinds of things can go either way.For those who have not experienced performance art of any kind before, it is certainly an unnerving concept. The lack of parameters denote a free form in which all features of a person’s self can be displayed, and unsurprisingly, this kind of environment can lead to self-indulgence of the most tedious kind.
It’s apparent from the outset that Markus Makavellian doesn’t want us to be alienated from him, despite the outlandish, pseudo-military drag outfit. A scatological opening segment makes it clear that we are all human and function in the same way, and from this moment on, audience and performer are equal.
Leading on from this, a combative approach to the issues of love, lust and self-validation throughout Taylor’s life lends itself to the debris surrounding the stage, which seems to be representative of a battlefield. During the trio of monologues entitled “Do you like being the man now?”, muffled sounds of war play over the speakers; pieces which seem to illustrate the significance of ‘the other’ in the life of Drew Taylor.
The vignettes serve as a template for his life, in which he is found to be living vicariously through others and repeating certain routines. This is made clear in the dialogue, whereby times, places and images are used to different effects through the use of repetition — although how closely the persona of Markus Makavellian mirrors that of performer Drew Taylor is somewhat unclear.
The observations in the show are often that of a wide-eyed child, whilst at the same time knowing and cynical. Some of the stories border on a more solipsistic side of Markus, which perhaps is closer to the man himself. A person seemingly ruled by relationships — and bruised as a result of some — is very easy to empathise with, so it is difficult to be critical of a performance made up of so much deeply personal material.
There are funny moments too, and it seemed as though their purpose was to offset the serious tone that seemed to loom when subjects became too weighty. This was particularly apparent at the end of the show when, after a beautiful ode to a loved one, a short comic ditty caps off the evening, which seemed to cheapen the sentiment that preceded it.
Although this approach seemed to lessen the performance for me, to a certain extent it seemed necessary, as some of the audience, beer in hand, had come to laugh — and indeed the observational wit of Markus Makavellian’s world is truly entertaining.
International Order is a thoroughly engaging and at times very moving experience — and makes a terrific addition to the already strong Glasgay! festival line-up.
Friday, 23 October 2009
Playing Houses, Arches, Glasgow - Herald Scotland | Arts & Ents | Stage & Visual Arts
Playing Houses, Arches, Glasgow - Herald Scotland Arts & Ents Stage & Visual Arts
Playing Houses, Arches, Glasgow
Star rating: ****
Nadine McBay
Published on 15 Oct 2009
Like much of his previous work, Martin O’Connor’s Playing Houses explores 21st-century masculinity through monologue, yet it is a bold step forward for the writer-director. Whereas Reality, his 2007 piece for Glasgay, saw him perform three linked monologues, this Glasgay/Arches co-comission is his first full-length play and the first to feature actors other than himself.
It’s the warm, sticky evening of the Big Brother final. Neither deserted mother Sandra (Vivien Grahame) nor her three sons have been keeping up with the series, but they’ll each watch the spectacle from their own rooms – that is, until their hitherto AWOL father makes an appearance. The scenario functions as a springboard from which to investigate four experiences of gender – or five, if you count that of Da, whose absence gives him a kind of all-pervasive presence.
Sandra feels washed up at 36, oldest son Wee Andy (Jordan McCurrach) is facing fatherhood himself, Michael (Neil Leiper) has been involved in a homophobic attack and confused youngster Sean (Scott Fletcher) attempts to solve his problems through daytime TV. All are searching for validation and belonging, something not afforded them either outside or inside the home, where Kirsty McCabe’s simple, four-piece set solidifies their separateness.
Indeed, the only occasions where the monologues threaten to give way to dialogue are fatally frustrated: the four literally cannot communicate with each other. Yet the tension never suffocates the humour – and nor does that humour detract from the gravity. O’Connor’s growth as a writer makes for compelling viewing, as well as a climax few will see coming.
Playing Houses, Arches, Glasgow
Star rating: ****
Nadine McBay
Published on 15 Oct 2009
Like much of his previous work, Martin O’Connor’s Playing Houses explores 21st-century masculinity through monologue, yet it is a bold step forward for the writer-director. Whereas Reality, his 2007 piece for Glasgay, saw him perform three linked monologues, this Glasgay/Arches co-comission is his first full-length play and the first to feature actors other than himself.
It’s the warm, sticky evening of the Big Brother final. Neither deserted mother Sandra (Vivien Grahame) nor her three sons have been keeping up with the series, but they’ll each watch the spectacle from their own rooms – that is, until their hitherto AWOL father makes an appearance. The scenario functions as a springboard from which to investigate four experiences of gender – or five, if you count that of Da, whose absence gives him a kind of all-pervasive presence.
Sandra feels washed up at 36, oldest son Wee Andy (Jordan McCurrach) is facing fatherhood himself, Michael (Neil Leiper) has been involved in a homophobic attack and confused youngster Sean (Scott Fletcher) attempts to solve his problems through daytime TV. All are searching for validation and belonging, something not afforded them either outside or inside the home, where Kirsty McCabe’s simple, four-piece set solidifies their separateness.
Indeed, the only occasions where the monologues threaten to give way to dialogue are fatally frustrated: the four literally cannot communicate with each other. Yet the tension never suffocates the humour – and nor does that humour detract from the gravity. O’Connor’s growth as a writer makes for compelling viewing, as well as a climax few will see coming.
Jings, what would Maw Broon say? - Herald Scotland | Arts & Ents | More Arts & Entertainment News
Jings, what would Maw Broon say? - Herald Scotland Arts & Ents More Arts & Entertainment News
Neil Cooper
Published on 22 Oct 2009
The Broons aren’t the obvious family for a Scottish poet to be weaned on.
Jackie Kay is adopted, with Scots/Nigerian origins, so it’s maybe no surprise that she was attracted to the hustle and bustle of Scotland’s first family.
Ever since Dudley D Watkins first introduced The Broons to the world 76 years ago, every Sunday it’s been dependably the same: the archetypal cross-generational clan eking out their days in unruly harmony, living under the same roof in a timewarp unspoiled by dysfunction or any notion of a broken home.
With a family of eight to contend with – nine if you include irascible old rogue Granpaw – Maw Broon is a classic no-nonsense matriarch. In her world, one suspects, feminism is something those fancy Edinburgh types might indulge in, but is not for the likes of her. Until now, that is. The Maw Broon Monologues, which opens at Glasgow’s Tron Theatre as part of the 2009 Glasgay! festival, finds Kay setting her subject squarely in the 21st century, without so much as a weekend at the But ’n’ Ben for comfort.
Here, Maw Broon finds herself embarking on such adventures as visiting her bank manager, tracing her family tree and reading Tolstoy. In her down time she enters reality TV show Britain’s Got Talent, helps save the planet and starts an online blog. She even has colonic irrigation, which is in no way connected to her meeting with her politically inclined namesake Gordon Broon. One suspects that by the end of all this activity, Maw Broon’s cosmetic, political and psychological makeover has made her a very independent woman. In Kay’s version, make that two women, one of them black.
“Scottish literature is full of doppelgangers and dualities,” says Kay, pointing to Robert Louis Stevenson’s Jekyll and Hyde as an example. “Tragedy and comedy live in the same house, and by having doppelgangers, it’s a way of getting what we might think of as stereotypes to do something different. The Broons are Scotland’s first family, and they’re a great family who all have specific personalities that over the years you get to know.
“The joke’s usually the same, with someone having a grand idea that backfires, but with The Maw Broon Monologues, I wanted to take the idea of something unexpected happening, and see where that led.”
With this in mind, Kay and director Maggie Kinloch have cast two singer/actresses already possessed with big personalities to take on Maw Broon’s inner and outer self. While Terry Neason takes on our more familiar idea of the family-driven matriarch, Suzanne Bonnar reflects the inner yearnings and unfulfilled desires of her psyche. The result, over 10 monologues and seven songs, is a loose-knit narrative that charts one very familiar woman’s awakening to possibilities beyond her domestic circumstances.
It was Kinloch who first suggested to the poet some kind of staging of the work after watching Kay’s own performance at Glasgow Women’s Library of one of Maw Broon’s earliest forays into the big bad world beyond Auchenshoogle.
In its use of popular forms to reinvent familiar characters, The Maw Broon Monologues is the latest example of a proliferation of small-scale theatre events resembling the less strident end of feminist cabarets from the 1970s and 1980s. Back then, Victoria Wood reinvented another comic icon, this time to highlight the class war in her song, Lord Snooty and His Pals Are Alright. Now, Maw Broon might just be a woman of our time and – with black lesbian gags unlikely to be at a premium – an unlikely feminist icon. The presence of Terry Neason, whose theatre career began with John McGrath’s original 7:84 company before becoming a stalwart of Wildcat, is crucial in this respect.
“Terry and Suzanne’s voices work really well together,” Kay says. “I’d always had Suzanne in mind, because I’ve worked with her a lot before, but I’d watched Terry in Wildcat and doing her one-woman shows, and I think she’s one of these singers who manages to find the real emotion of a song rather than just her own. So that combination has worked out really well.”
The music for The Maw Broon Monologues is composed by Tom Urie, best known for another popular smash when he took on the role of Danny McGlone in the stage version of John Byrne’s comic television drama series, Tutti Frutti. While Urie’s presence in the show breaks up any accusations of all-girls-together separatism, Maw Broon’s stage debut does follow other feminisations of work made familiar in more macho ways. Most notable of these in recent times is
Denise Mina’s restyling of Hugh MacDiarmid’s epic harangue, A Drunk Man Looks At The Thistle. Mina’s monologue was first performed at Oran Mor with a sweep of hen-night panache by Karen Dunbar, another star able to combine intelligence and depth with a good night out.
“Feminism in the 1970s was quite in your face,” Kay reflects, “but it was really exciting for the times. Feminist theatre then was more agit-prop in style, the way a lot of theatre was then. Now I suppose it’s more satirical, but still packs a punch.” Kay also reveals that one of her pieces bears the magnificent title A Drunk Woman Looks At Her Nipple, with the gazed-upon areola becoming an eco-friendly symbol of the planet.
“I’m thinking about how this could be done in lots of different ways,” reveals Kay. “It could even be called Maw Broon, The Musical.” Such ambitions are a long way from Kay’s first reimagining of Maw Broon in her early poetry collections. Now, she says, “I’d quite happily put a Maw Broon monologue in every book I write until the day I die.”
As with Maw Broon’s Cookbook, which was published a couple of years ago, any forthcoming collection of Kay’s Maw Broon Monologues would be a very different proposition to the Broons Annual currently on the shelves. Not that its publishers, DC Thomson, seem to mind. Kay, after all, is only adding to The Broons’ mythology. “There’s something very zeitgeisty about The Broons just now,” Kay laughs. “It’s like Broons Reunited.”
In its current form, The Maw Broon Monologues looks and sounds rather portable. Whether it goes on to have another life, however, remains to be seen. The material’s common touch may be already apparent, but Kay has been here before when her novel, Trumpet, looked set for the Hollywood treatment, with Halle Barry mooted for the lead role. Rather than burst on to the big screen with a fanfare, Trumpet festered in development hell and remains unmade. “Best deal with reality as it happens,” Kay says, sounding remarkably Maw Broon-like, “and not build one’s hopes up.”
As for what Maw Broon might make of being taken from a comic strip and made flesh onstage – and her dual depiction – Kay can see both sides of the argument. “One side of her would probably think, go oan’, yerself, hen,” she speculates, “but another would be pure black affronted. Maw Broon might even walk out and stage a protest.”
The Maw Broon Monologues, Tron Theatre, Glasgow, November 3-8, www.tron.co.uk
Neil Cooper
Published on 22 Oct 2009
The Broons aren’t the obvious family for a Scottish poet to be weaned on.
Jackie Kay is adopted, with Scots/Nigerian origins, so it’s maybe no surprise that she was attracted to the hustle and bustle of Scotland’s first family.
Ever since Dudley D Watkins first introduced The Broons to the world 76 years ago, every Sunday it’s been dependably the same: the archetypal cross-generational clan eking out their days in unruly harmony, living under the same roof in a timewarp unspoiled by dysfunction or any notion of a broken home.
With a family of eight to contend with – nine if you include irascible old rogue Granpaw – Maw Broon is a classic no-nonsense matriarch. In her world, one suspects, feminism is something those fancy Edinburgh types might indulge in, but is not for the likes of her. Until now, that is. The Maw Broon Monologues, which opens at Glasgow’s Tron Theatre as part of the 2009 Glasgay! festival, finds Kay setting her subject squarely in the 21st century, without so much as a weekend at the But ’n’ Ben for comfort.
Here, Maw Broon finds herself embarking on such adventures as visiting her bank manager, tracing her family tree and reading Tolstoy. In her down time she enters reality TV show Britain’s Got Talent, helps save the planet and starts an online blog. She even has colonic irrigation, which is in no way connected to her meeting with her politically inclined namesake Gordon Broon. One suspects that by the end of all this activity, Maw Broon’s cosmetic, political and psychological makeover has made her a very independent woman. In Kay’s version, make that two women, one of them black.
“Scottish literature is full of doppelgangers and dualities,” says Kay, pointing to Robert Louis Stevenson’s Jekyll and Hyde as an example. “Tragedy and comedy live in the same house, and by having doppelgangers, it’s a way of getting what we might think of as stereotypes to do something different. The Broons are Scotland’s first family, and they’re a great family who all have specific personalities that over the years you get to know.
“The joke’s usually the same, with someone having a grand idea that backfires, but with The Maw Broon Monologues, I wanted to take the idea of something unexpected happening, and see where that led.”
With this in mind, Kay and director Maggie Kinloch have cast two singer/actresses already possessed with big personalities to take on Maw Broon’s inner and outer self. While Terry Neason takes on our more familiar idea of the family-driven matriarch, Suzanne Bonnar reflects the inner yearnings and unfulfilled desires of her psyche. The result, over 10 monologues and seven songs, is a loose-knit narrative that charts one very familiar woman’s awakening to possibilities beyond her domestic circumstances.
It was Kinloch who first suggested to the poet some kind of staging of the work after watching Kay’s own performance at Glasgow Women’s Library of one of Maw Broon’s earliest forays into the big bad world beyond Auchenshoogle.
In its use of popular forms to reinvent familiar characters, The Maw Broon Monologues is the latest example of a proliferation of small-scale theatre events resembling the less strident end of feminist cabarets from the 1970s and 1980s. Back then, Victoria Wood reinvented another comic icon, this time to highlight the class war in her song, Lord Snooty and His Pals Are Alright. Now, Maw Broon might just be a woman of our time and – with black lesbian gags unlikely to be at a premium – an unlikely feminist icon. The presence of Terry Neason, whose theatre career began with John McGrath’s original 7:84 company before becoming a stalwart of Wildcat, is crucial in this respect.
“Terry and Suzanne’s voices work really well together,” Kay says. “I’d always had Suzanne in mind, because I’ve worked with her a lot before, but I’d watched Terry in Wildcat and doing her one-woman shows, and I think she’s one of these singers who manages to find the real emotion of a song rather than just her own. So that combination has worked out really well.”
The music for The Maw Broon Monologues is composed by Tom Urie, best known for another popular smash when he took on the role of Danny McGlone in the stage version of John Byrne’s comic television drama series, Tutti Frutti. While Urie’s presence in the show breaks up any accusations of all-girls-together separatism, Maw Broon’s stage debut does follow other feminisations of work made familiar in more macho ways. Most notable of these in recent times is
Denise Mina’s restyling of Hugh MacDiarmid’s epic harangue, A Drunk Man Looks At The Thistle. Mina’s monologue was first performed at Oran Mor with a sweep of hen-night panache by Karen Dunbar, another star able to combine intelligence and depth with a good night out.
“Feminism in the 1970s was quite in your face,” Kay reflects, “but it was really exciting for the times. Feminist theatre then was more agit-prop in style, the way a lot of theatre was then. Now I suppose it’s more satirical, but still packs a punch.” Kay also reveals that one of her pieces bears the magnificent title A Drunk Woman Looks At Her Nipple, with the gazed-upon areola becoming an eco-friendly symbol of the planet.
“I’m thinking about how this could be done in lots of different ways,” reveals Kay. “It could even be called Maw Broon, The Musical.” Such ambitions are a long way from Kay’s first reimagining of Maw Broon in her early poetry collections. Now, she says, “I’d quite happily put a Maw Broon monologue in every book I write until the day I die.”
As with Maw Broon’s Cookbook, which was published a couple of years ago, any forthcoming collection of Kay’s Maw Broon Monologues would be a very different proposition to the Broons Annual currently on the shelves. Not that its publishers, DC Thomson, seem to mind. Kay, after all, is only adding to The Broons’ mythology. “There’s something very zeitgeisty about The Broons just now,” Kay laughs. “It’s like Broons Reunited.”
In its current form, The Maw Broon Monologues looks and sounds rather portable. Whether it goes on to have another life, however, remains to be seen. The material’s common touch may be already apparent, but Kay has been here before when her novel, Trumpet, looked set for the Hollywood treatment, with Halle Barry mooted for the lead role. Rather than burst on to the big screen with a fanfare, Trumpet festered in development hell and remains unmade. “Best deal with reality as it happens,” Kay says, sounding remarkably Maw Broon-like, “and not build one’s hopes up.”
As for what Maw Broon might make of being taken from a comic strip and made flesh onstage – and her dual depiction – Kay can see both sides of the argument. “One side of her would probably think, go oan’, yerself, hen,” she speculates, “but another would be pure black affronted. Maw Broon might even walk out and stage a protest.”
The Maw Broon Monologues, Tron Theatre, Glasgow, November 3-8, www.tron.co.uk
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
OnstageScotland.co.uk :: Review :: A Child Made of Love by Glasgay!
OnstageScotland.co.uk :: Review :: A Child Made of Love by Glasgay!
A Child Made of Love
Glasgay!
The difficulties of LGBT politics are often best exorcised on stage. Glasgay! commission A Child Made of Love tackles the controversial issue of gay adoption in a sweetly satirical way, borrowing the styles and motifs of nursery rhymes that provide a harsh contrast with thorny reality.
"Sweet and sincere ... not a laboured attempt to impose a political message"It is difficult to judge where a writer’s use of the fairytale theme should begin and where it should end. It would have been all to easy, and perhaps disengaging to an audience, for this problem to be solved as simplistically as Prince Charming slaying the dragon. Instead, Matthew McVarish constantly reminds us that life is not a fairy tale.
Mike and Joe’s longing for a child seems the natural progression for an relationship that has spanned eight years. Mike, an artistically frustrated children's writer, is driven mad by the unfulfilled fairy tales unfolding inside his head, while lawyer husband Joe fights a difficult child custody hearing. How should we judge paternity? By biology or by emotion?
Andrew Agnew is a remarkably soft and sensitive actor. As Mike, he brings a soothing maternal quality to the role. Appropriately, this compliments the gender roles that one might expect of the play, without descending into the high camp of a nuclear family. His warmth lends itself well to comedy and it is in this comedy that we see the defiance of survivors.
Edward Corrie, by contrast, portrays an intense need to succeed at work and at home. The strain of disappointment and frustration involved in the adoption process is underlined by a deep sadness, and this is convincingly and sophisticatedly portrayed. Even in his most fiery moments, Corrie’s eyes fill with tears.
The play’s best scenes are its quietest; those in which Agnew and Corrie pose the arguments for gay adoption. This is not a laboured attempt to impose a political message, but a sweet and sincere image of homosexual relationships. Away from the red tape that threatens their future happiness, a family home is established.
As Gepetto wished to the Blue Fairy for a son in Pinocchio, A Child Made of Love asks for a kinder understanding of an issue that has divided many.
Scott Purvis
A Child Made of Love
Glasgay!
The difficulties of LGBT politics are often best exorcised on stage. Glasgay! commission A Child Made of Love tackles the controversial issue of gay adoption in a sweetly satirical way, borrowing the styles and motifs of nursery rhymes that provide a harsh contrast with thorny reality.
"Sweet and sincere ... not a laboured attempt to impose a political message"It is difficult to judge where a writer’s use of the fairytale theme should begin and where it should end. It would have been all to easy, and perhaps disengaging to an audience, for this problem to be solved as simplistically as Prince Charming slaying the dragon. Instead, Matthew McVarish constantly reminds us that life is not a fairy tale.
Mike and Joe’s longing for a child seems the natural progression for an relationship that has spanned eight years. Mike, an artistically frustrated children's writer, is driven mad by the unfulfilled fairy tales unfolding inside his head, while lawyer husband Joe fights a difficult child custody hearing. How should we judge paternity? By biology or by emotion?
Andrew Agnew is a remarkably soft and sensitive actor. As Mike, he brings a soothing maternal quality to the role. Appropriately, this compliments the gender roles that one might expect of the play, without descending into the high camp of a nuclear family. His warmth lends itself well to comedy and it is in this comedy that we see the defiance of survivors.
Edward Corrie, by contrast, portrays an intense need to succeed at work and at home. The strain of disappointment and frustration involved in the adoption process is underlined by a deep sadness, and this is convincingly and sophisticatedly portrayed. Even in his most fiery moments, Corrie’s eyes fill with tears.
The play’s best scenes are its quietest; those in which Agnew and Corrie pose the arguments for gay adoption. This is not a laboured attempt to impose a political message, but a sweet and sincere image of homosexual relationships. Away from the red tape that threatens their future happiness, a family home is established.
As Gepetto wished to the Blue Fairy for a son in Pinocchio, A Child Made of Love asks for a kinder understanding of an issue that has divided many.
Scott Purvis
Sunday, 18 October 2009
This week's theatre previews | Stage | The Guardian
This week's theatre previews Stage The Guardian: "Memory Cells, Glasgow
Novelist and playwright Louise Welsh is very good at excavating underworlds as she proved in her superb debut novel, The Cutting Room. In this theatre piece, directed by Sam Rowe as part of Glasgay!, Welsh calls upon myths such as Orpheus and Eurydice to tell of Cora, who lies deathly still in an underground chamber. She is awakened by Barry, who promises to keep her safe, but is he the saviour he seems?
Arches, Tue to 24 Oct"
Novelist and playwright Louise Welsh is very good at excavating underworlds as she proved in her superb debut novel, The Cutting Room. In this theatre piece, directed by Sam Rowe as part of Glasgay!, Welsh calls upon myths such as Orpheus and Eurydice to tell of Cora, who lies deathly still in an underground chamber. She is awakened by Barry, who promises to keep her safe, but is he the saviour he seems?
Arches, Tue to 24 Oct"
Friday, 16 October 2009
Review: The Herald - Playing Houses, Arches, Glasgow
Playing Houses, Arches, Glasgow
Nadine McBay
Star rating: ****
Published on 15 Oct 2009
Like much of his previous work, Martin O’Connor’s Playing Houses explores 21st-century masculinity through monologue, yet it is a bold step forward for the writer-director. Whereas Reality, his 2007 piece for Glasgay, saw him perform three linked monologues, this Glasgay/Arches co-comission is his first full-length play and the first to feature actors other than himself.
It’s the warm, sticky evening of the Big Brother final. Neither deserted mother Sandra (Vivien Grahame) nor her three sons have been keeping up with the series, but they’ll each watch the spectacle from their own rooms – that is, until their hitherto AWOL father makes an appearance. The scenario functions as a springboard from which to investigate four experiences of gender – or five, if you count that of Da, whose absence gives him a kind of all-pervasive presence.
Sandra feels washed up at 36, oldest son Wee Andy (Jordan McCurrach) is facing fatherhood himself, Michael (Neil Leiper) has been involved in a homophobic attack and confused youngster Sean (Scott Fletcher) attempts to solve his problems through daytime TV. All are searching for validation and belonging, something not afforded them either outside or inside the home, where Kirsty McCabe’s simple, four-piece set solidifies their separateness.
Indeed, the only occasions where the monologues threaten to give way to dialogue are fatally frustrated: the four literally cannot communicate with each other. Yet the tension never suffocates the humour – and nor does that humour detract from the gravity.
O’Connor’s growth as a writer makes for compelling viewing, as well as a climax few will see coming.
Nadine McBay
Star rating: ****
Published on 15 Oct 2009
Like much of his previous work, Martin O’Connor’s Playing Houses explores 21st-century masculinity through monologue, yet it is a bold step forward for the writer-director. Whereas Reality, his 2007 piece for Glasgay, saw him perform three linked monologues, this Glasgay/Arches co-comission is his first full-length play and the first to feature actors other than himself.
It’s the warm, sticky evening of the Big Brother final. Neither deserted mother Sandra (Vivien Grahame) nor her three sons have been keeping up with the series, but they’ll each watch the spectacle from their own rooms – that is, until their hitherto AWOL father makes an appearance. The scenario functions as a springboard from which to investigate four experiences of gender – or five, if you count that of Da, whose absence gives him a kind of all-pervasive presence.
Sandra feels washed up at 36, oldest son Wee Andy (Jordan McCurrach) is facing fatherhood himself, Michael (Neil Leiper) has been involved in a homophobic attack and confused youngster Sean (Scott Fletcher) attempts to solve his problems through daytime TV. All are searching for validation and belonging, something not afforded them either outside or inside the home, where Kirsty McCabe’s simple, four-piece set solidifies their separateness.
Indeed, the only occasions where the monologues threaten to give way to dialogue are fatally frustrated: the four literally cannot communicate with each other. Yet the tension never suffocates the humour – and nor does that humour detract from the gravity.
O’Connor’s growth as a writer makes for compelling viewing, as well as a climax few will see coming.
Playing Houses | The Skinny
Playing Houses The Skinny:
"Playing Houses ****
Posted by Gareth K Vile
Thu 15 Oct 2009
Martin O'Connnor has been a vibrant presence in recent Glasgays!, and Playing Houses sees him take his natural, witty monologue style into a four way meditation on the role of fathers.
Rather than adopting a traditional script, Martin O'Connor interweaves four monologues into a satisfying whole, that moves to a dramatic, if slightly forced, conclusion.
O'Connor's strength is his humour and ear for the spoken word: he eases the audience into the domestic horror with typical Glaswegian humour, littering the text with religious references and pop-culture punchlines. The cast capture his poetic lilt, and carry off both the tragedy and comedy expertly.
At times, the absent father becomes like a God-figure, as if O'Connor is mourning the death of God as well as the trauma of single-parent households. It could be seen as socially conservative, suggesting that a disappearing dad undermines the stability of the household. Yet this fiercely moral play is suffused with compassion.
As the jokes fall away, the story plunges into its dark finale with the inevitable power of Greek tragedy, weakened only by the double disaster, which introduces a sub-plot about repressed homosexuality and queer-bashing that overloads the narrative and extends the running time. Yet it is marvellous to report that O'Connor is developing his ambitions and a very impressive approach to larger scale work, without losing his voice or laughter."
"Playing Houses ****
Posted by Gareth K Vile
Thu 15 Oct 2009
Martin O'Connnor has been a vibrant presence in recent Glasgays!, and Playing Houses sees him take his natural, witty monologue style into a four way meditation on the role of fathers.
Rather than adopting a traditional script, Martin O'Connor interweaves four monologues into a satisfying whole, that moves to a dramatic, if slightly forced, conclusion.
O'Connor's strength is his humour and ear for the spoken word: he eases the audience into the domestic horror with typical Glaswegian humour, littering the text with religious references and pop-culture punchlines. The cast capture his poetic lilt, and carry off both the tragedy and comedy expertly.
At times, the absent father becomes like a God-figure, as if O'Connor is mourning the death of God as well as the trauma of single-parent households. It could be seen as socially conservative, suggesting that a disappearing dad undermines the stability of the household. Yet this fiercely moral play is suffused with compassion.
As the jokes fall away, the story plunges into its dark finale with the inevitable power of Greek tragedy, weakened only by the double disaster, which introduces a sub-plot about repressed homosexuality and queer-bashing that overloads the narrative and extends the running time. Yet it is marvellous to report that O'Connor is developing his ambitions and a very impressive approach to larger scale work, without losing his voice or laughter."
Theatre review: Playing Houses - The Scotsman
Theatre review: Playing Houses - The Scotsman
Published Date: 16 October 2009
By JOYCE McMILLAN
PLAYING HOUSES ****THE ARCHES, GLASGOW
THINK OF Glasgay! – Glasgow's annual celebration of queer culture – and lots of things come to mind: visual razzle-dazzle, cutting-edge performance art, and passionate reworkings of classic texts by gay writers. Fine new writing, though, has tended to come further down the list. So it's a pleasure to find that the first of this year's new Glasgay! plays – co-commissioned by the Festival and the Arches – is a strikingly powerful quadruple monologue, that confirms its writer, Martin O'Connor, as an important emerging talent.Playing Houses is an 80-minute reflection on the fate of a family of three boys who – along with their feisty mother, Sandra – have been abandoned by their father, Big Andy. Using these four voices, O'Connor first reflects on their experience, and then moves the drama on through the fateful day when Big Andy chooses to return for a visit, raising a series of profound questions about fatherhood, masculinity, family and belonging in a blasted post-industrial landscape. Sandra is unforgettable, beautifully played by Vivien Grahame: a failed working-class matriarch with a poetic turn of phrase, a surreal sense of humour, and a searingly sharp eye for the strangeness of her world.The tragedy, when it comes, is slightly ill-prepared; a horrific gay-bashing incident emerges suddenly from the chaos of the family's life. But the quality of the writing, in a sharp but lyrical Glasgow demotic, never fails. And Jordan McCurrach, Neil Leiper and Scott Fletcher are all in fine form as Sandra's three boys; the teenage dad, the young thug and the gay schoolkid, all lost in a world that was short of waymarks even before their Dad walked out, ripping the heart from their lives.
Published Date: 16 October 2009
By JOYCE McMILLAN
PLAYING HOUSES ****THE ARCHES, GLASGOW
THINK OF Glasgay! – Glasgow's annual celebration of queer culture – and lots of things come to mind: visual razzle-dazzle, cutting-edge performance art, and passionate reworkings of classic texts by gay writers. Fine new writing, though, has tended to come further down the list. So it's a pleasure to find that the first of this year's new Glasgay! plays – co-commissioned by the Festival and the Arches – is a strikingly powerful quadruple monologue, that confirms its writer, Martin O'Connor, as an important emerging talent.Playing Houses is an 80-minute reflection on the fate of a family of three boys who – along with their feisty mother, Sandra – have been abandoned by their father, Big Andy. Using these four voices, O'Connor first reflects on their experience, and then moves the drama on through the fateful day when Big Andy chooses to return for a visit, raising a series of profound questions about fatherhood, masculinity, family and belonging in a blasted post-industrial landscape. Sandra is unforgettable, beautifully played by Vivien Grahame: a failed working-class matriarch with a poetic turn of phrase, a surreal sense of humour, and a searingly sharp eye for the strangeness of her world.The tragedy, when it comes, is slightly ill-prepared; a horrific gay-bashing incident emerges suddenly from the chaos of the family's life. But the quality of the writing, in a sharp but lyrical Glasgow demotic, never fails. And Jordan McCurrach, Neil Leiper and Scott Fletcher are all in fine form as Sandra's three boys; the teenage dad, the young thug and the gay schoolkid, all lost in a world that was short of waymarks even before their Dad walked out, ripping the heart from their lives.
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