Culture

Culture

The good, the bad and the ugly in books, exhibitions, cinema, TV, dance, music, podcasts and theatre.

Saturday Morning Country: Steve Earle Edition

Steve Earle belongs in the first rank of the great tradition of Texas singer-songwriters and he's been in great form since his two-year "vacation" in the early 1990s. The good news is that he shows no signs of slackening off: his new album, Townes, is a loving15-track tribute to his friend and mentor Townes van Zandt. And the even better news is that Earle is touring Britain (and Ireland) later this year. Hurrah! Anyway, here's a clip from way back in the day when the Hardcore Troubadour was earning his nickname The Hard Way.

Saturday Morning Country: Gillian Welch & Gospel

You can't have a country music series without acknowledging the contribution church music has made to the genre. The thing about the gospel music that sprang from the this topsoil of the Appalachian mountains is that, for, or rather because of, all its desperation, there remains an essential glimmer of hope that, in the next world at least, things will be better and more comfortably arranged than they are in this. It's the contrast between the fatalism of the present and the promise of the future that gives it a mighty, if mournful, punch. And one of the most famous of these hymns is "I'll Fly Away" which has been recorded by Hank Williams, Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, Randy Travis and a host of others. It also featured in the soundtrack to Oh Brother, Where Art Thou.

Waylon Jennings & Sunday Morning Country

A slight disruption to the schedule this week postponed Saturday Morning Country by 24 hours. But not to worry, here's the great Waylon Jennings in barnstorming form to make up for it all and get your sabbath off to a braw and brawlin' start. So this was recorded at  the "Lost Outlaw" concert from back in 1978 and this is Waylon singing about how I've Always Been Crazy. Ain't that the truth? But you wouldn't want it any other way, would you? Previously: Dolly, Emmylou and Townes.

Townes van Zandt: Saturday Morning Country

First we had Dolly Parton and then last week we featured Emmylou Harris singing Pancho & Lefty so this Saturday it makes sense to put Townes van Zandt in the spotlight. This video comes from towards the end of his life by which time his voice was even more ragged than it ever was. Then again, it's not the voice that matters so much as the songwriting and the haunting, elegiac, melancholy that makes Townes van Zandt one of the great American songwriters of the past 50 years. In any genre. Here he is then, performing the classic Tecumseh Valley.

Saturday Morning Country

Last week it was Dolly Parton in this (newly created!) slot; this Saturday it's the turn of another great country diva, Emmylou Harris. I saw her at the Royal Concert Hall in Glasgow last year and, truth to say, it was probably only a 6/10 gig. I think Norm's assessment of her performance in Manchester on that tour is pretty fair. I also think you should read his album-by-album review of her fabulous career and his ranking of her albums here. Anyway, after the jump, here's the great lady singing a great song by another great artist, Townes van Zandt. Yes, this is Emmylou Harris performing Pancho and Lefty on The Old Grey Whistle Test way back in 1977. Great stuff.

Mighty Bach

Music

Matthaüs-Passion Barbican ‘God save us...it’s just as if one were at an opera!’ a woman is quoted as saying at a performance of Bach’s Matthaüs-Passion in the 18th century. If she meant that it is hard to imagine a more intensely dramatic experience — it is other kinds of experience, too, of course — then she was right. It was fashionable 40 years or so ago to say that the St Matthew Passion is less dramatic than the St John Passion, a view argued by Britten and his acolytes. I think they were wrong: the Matthaüs-Passion is at least as dramatic as its shorter twin, but it has other elements, too.

Antidote to Berio

Music

For reasons that need not detain us here, I have recently had to endure more than my fair share of Luciano Berio and other blighters of that ilk, and I wanted to consider how the glorious Western classical music tradition of structure, harmony and melodic invention could have descended into plinkety plonk rubbish and the kind of sounds foxes make when copulating. As Thomas Beecham once memorably remarked, he never knowingly listened to Schoenberg, but he thought he might once have trod in some by mistake.  But it’s the Easter weekend as I write, the sun is shining for the third successive day here in verdant, primrose-blessed west Dorset, and the idea of refreshing my indignation by listening to Berio’s intolerable Sinfonia is too ghastly to contemplate.

A song for the weekend

The super-talented Lisa Hannigan and her band gather in Dick Mac's pub in Dingle, Co Kerry for a charming wee session that is just the ticket for a lovely spring weekend...

And Another Thing | 28 March 2009

Any other business

Richard Strauss died 60 years ago this year. Not only is he one of my top ten favourite composers, he is also the one I would most like to be cast away with on an island so that I could pluck out the heart of his mystery. His subtleties are infinite, especially his constant, minute innovations, always designed to improve existing models but rejecting crude revolutions, so noisily intrusive in his time. I would like to explore his early works, like the tone poem Macbeth and his symphonies, Brahmsian exercises never performed today, and get to know all his operas including the weird Guntram (1892) and his last great masterpiece Capriccio, written 60 years later. But plucking that complex heart requires a knowledge of German.

Meet Gordon’s Pet Shop persecutors

Features

Mary Wakefield meets the successful pop duo the Pet Shop Boys, and finds them eloquent critics of New Labour, staunch defenders of civil liberties — and fans of Vince Cable Through the woods, the trees And further on the sea We lived in the shadow of the war Sand in the sandwiches Wasps in the tea It was a free country In a West End town in a dead end world — OK, no: in a nice Georgian townhouse in central London, on the top floor where once boot boys bedded down, the Pet Shop Boys are revisiting their past. ‘The Britain of my childhood?’ Neil Tennant, the singing half of the most successful pop duo of all time reclines on a chaise longue and thinks his way back to North Shields (near Newcastle) in the late Fifties.

Back in a Blur

Old rockers don’t die, they just go to Glastonbury. Or, in the case of our own Alex James, write a column for The Spectator. It is nine years since Blur played together and, though their forthcoming reunion tour has been public knowledge for a while, there is a special frisson in today’s disclosure that they will be headlining at the summer’s main festival: the annual riot of mud and noise known as Glastonbury.

A song for the crunch

It's bloody depressing being a columnist right now. The meltdown is easily the most important topic, but how many variants of this can you produce before readers give up? Or think they have read it all before?  I was going to give you the latest economic horror story of our L-shaped downturn but instead I'll give it a rest and you this song by Noel Coward. As Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged is a book for our times, so this is its song; it has been playing non-stop in my head these last few days. It pretty much sums everything up. Can CoffeeHousers think of an extra verse for the credit crunch?

A present pour vous

For anyone who's having a last-minute Christmas present panic, or who simply wants to hear something utterly delectable instead of the unending stream of noxious news being poured into our ears as if we were so many unsuspecting old Hamlets, I strongly recommend nipping out to buy Opera Rara's new recording of Offenbach rarities, Entre Nous. It's irresistibly funny, sparkling and diverting. There's a grand 'snow finale' from Le voyage de la lune, in which the singers shiver and trill in tune, a funeral oration to a parrot which has died of constipation, a rondo du paté with a chorus in praise of ham, a pair of yodelling German army colonels and numerous other ludicrous delights. Absolute bliss.

Best of British: breakfast with Lily Allen

Features

Matthew d’Ancona talks to the quintessentially English pop star about growing up, her longing to have children, celebrity culture, US politics and her new album I am sitting opposite a demure young Englishwoman, sipping on jasmine tea, who would like nothing more, she says, than to settle down and have children. Young people and their parties interest her less and less. She likes the company of older friends now, and more sophisticated conversation. She shows me her elegant new Smythson notepaper, and discusses US politics, academic life and her plan to take her mother to Jamaica for Christmas. In person, she looks more like a Jane Austen heroine than a party queen. Meet Lily Allen.

Enchanted forest

Music

Hänsel und Gretel Royal Academy of Music Jenufa Birmingham Hippodrome Pelléas et Mélisande Sadler’s Wells Humperdinck’s Hänsel und Gretel loses none of its charm with repeated viewings, a good thing since there are plenty of productions of it around this year in the UK, the latest being at the Royal Academy of Music. I saw the first and almost wholly excellent cast, with the two children cast more plausibly than I have ever seen them before, though both Robyn Kirk, the Gretel, and Charlotte Stephenson, the Hänsel, are in their twenties. Both their singing and acting were ideal, worthy of DVD-ing, our version of immortality.

Behind closed doors with the maestro

Features

‘It has to do with the condition of being human,’ Daniel Barenboim smiles, looking remarkably relaxed for someone who’s just battled through rush-hour traffic from Stansted. The conductor, along with his West-Eastern Divan Orchestra, is in London on the latest stop of a European tour, but instead of resting before the next day’s epic Proms programme of Haydn, Schoenberg and Brahms, the 65-year-old maestro is now in a hotel near the Royal Albert Hall, deep in animated discussion about one of his favourite topics: the power of music and, yes, the human condition. Not that we should be surprised: Barenboim’s energy is as legendary as his intellectual curiosity.

Ronnie Drew, RIP

The Foggy Dew should be busy tonight. Mind you, so should all the other pubs in Dublin. There'll be more cause than usual for singing now that one hears the sad news of Ronnie Drew's death. The Telegraph obituary puts the appeal of The Dubliners quite well: The Dubliners achieved fame and notoriety as singers of street ballads and bawdy songs, and as players of fine instrumental traditional music. Their emergence coincided with the British folk revival of the early 1960s, and they were one of the first folk bands to break into the pop charts. In Ireland their closest rivals were the Clancy Brothers.

Rumours of the death of music are exaggerated

Any other business

David Crow says the record industry’s attempt to clamp down on illegal downloads is belated and befuddled — but the good news is that live music is thriving again Back in the late 1990s when the music download revolution was gathering pace, sentimentalists predicted the death of music. Those who spent their youth in rented flats littered with LPs before moving to mortgaged houses furnished with neat racks of CDs felt that free and illegal MP3 files would cannibalise the industry. But the huge irony of this revolution is that it has led to a resurgence in live music. CD sales fell by 10.6 per cent in Britain in 2007 — forcing artists to return to the stage. Last year saw more music festivals than ever before; live music revenues were up 8 per cent on 2006.

Thank you for the music

There's no denying we are heading into a major recession. The newspapers are full of doom and gloom, inflation rates are sky-high, there's an epidemic of knife crime, global warming weather seems to have totally bypassed England and yet everyone I met this weekend who'd been to see Abba's Mamma Mia was grinning from ear to ear and in an exceptionally good mood. Having seen the movie myself (twice in the last 48 hours) I can see why. This is a film that doesn't promise to deliver anything other than two hours of undiluted, infectious, joyous escapism. It's not champagne for the brain but it's definitely a serotonin-charged bit of much-needed hope for the heart.

Democratic Mix

Megan asks for suggestions for a tribute tape to the late and lamented Democratic primary race. A quick glance at my iPod suggests these tunes...

Country Polling

More polling! This time it's Setting the Woods on Fire who wants you to list your ten favourite country music artists. My off-the-top-of-my-head list, then, is: 1. Gram Parsons2. Waylon Jennings3. Townes van Zandt4. Johnny Cash5. Emmylou Harris 6. Hank Williams Sr 7. Dwight Yoakam8. Gillian Welch9. Lyle Lovett10. Merle Haggard Make your vote count here.

The Best Country Music?

A reader asks polymathic Tyler Cowen for his country music recommendations and Tyler responds here, cautioning, mind you, that: I might add the whole list comes from someone who was initially allergic to country music, so if that is you give some of these recommendations a try.  Just think of it as White Man's Blues. Well that was me too, once upon a sad old time ago. Then I saw the light and everything's been better since. Tyler says you have to start with Hank Williams Sr and then move on to the Gram Parsons trio of: The Byrds, The Flying Burrito Brothers and, finally, Grievous Angel. That, plus Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, Dolly etc etc will see you right. All sound advice.

We need the English music that the Arts Council hates

Features

Roger Scruton hails the glorious achievements of the English composers, and their role in idealising the gentleness of the English arcadia — so loathed by our liberal elite The English have always loved music, joining chamber groups, orchestras, operas and choirs just as soon as they can put two notes together. But it was not until Elgar that a distinctive national voice was heard in the concert hall. The Enigma Variations and Sea Pictures marked a turning-point in our musical culture: complete mastery of romantic polyphony, without the teutonic stodge of Parry and Stanford. This, at last, was the sound of modern England: gentle, nostalgic, an organic growth from a deeply settled landscape where many generations had been quietly at home.

Department of Radio

You don't have to be an Anglican or even especially religious to think that this Oxford Evensong set to jazz is very cool. Beautiful. (You can listen to it again for the next five days by clicking on "Choral Evensong" at the link.

The Minotaur at the heart of the labyrinth as a metaphor for our times?

Difficult not to make comparisons between any number of world leaders and the image of a trapped but powerful figure lashing out in impotent rage, bellowing incomprehensibly, half man, half beast, viewed with a combination of terror and pity. Whether you agree or not, I'd recommend catching John Tomlinson in the title role of Harrison Birtwistle's new opera, The Minotaur, at the Royal Opera House. There's no singer more capable of expressing such raw and painful contradictions.

Fake plastic politics?

Words you seldom hear at U2 concerts (or, indeed anywhere else): "If only Bono spent a bit less time in the recording studio and a bit more time on the international stage talking about global injustice, ah, bejaysus wouldn't the world be a better place?" After last weekend, right-thinking Radiohead fans may find themselves in a similar pickle. Is it possible - as Wagner fans seem to manage well enough - to divorce the man's politics from his art? Or will all future attempts to enjoy The Bends, OK Computer and In Rainbows be quite ruined by the memory of the toecurling, Climate Change special edition of the Observer magazine, guest edited by Radiohead's singer/songwriter Thom Yorke?

Fond farewell

Real life

Melissa Kite lives a Real Life The tuner who delivered the news could barely look me in the eye. After prodding at the keys of my piano for ten minutes he called me back from the kitchen where I had been making him a cup of tea. I knew the diagnosis was bad when he got up from the stool and walked towards me shaking his head. ‘I’m sorry, but there is nothing I can do.’ It seems that for some time now my piano has been suffering from a fatal fracture brought about by central heating. Other tuners have warned me. But I just didn’t think it would ever end like this. In a stark diagnosis of one desperate word: untunable. I hadn’t really understood that a piano could die. Nobody ever warned me that they have a life expectancy.

Backing vocals for Darling

Who else reckons that Mr Darling's plodding budget could have used a lively soundtrack? Well, here's my recommendation: Goody Two Shoes by Adam and the Ants. The lyrics pretty much sum up the whole sorry affair! "Put on a little makeup makeup Make sure they get your good side good side If the words unspoken Get stuck in your throat Send a treasure token token Write it on a pound note pound note Goody two goody two goody goody two shoes Goody two goody two goody goody two shoes Don't drink don't smoke - what do you do Don't drink don't smoke - what do you do Subtle innuendos follow.

Sunny Side of the Street

Megan finally gets to see The Pogues live and, happily, it's worth the wait: Did I mention that for the actual last song, at the end of the second encore, Spider Stacy did his signature "bashing a beer tray against my head" percussion act?  I mean, it really doesn't get much better than that.