Robert Sharp

A portrait by friend and collaborator CJ Clarke. Magic Party Place is his ongoing project on contemporary Britain.

In the Guardian, Lyn Gardner discusses multimedia in theatre, with some kind words for my friend and collaborator Judith Adams, and for Fifty Nine Productions (of which I am a proud, if non-executive, director):

with the technology at their fingertips, answers and images can be conjured by theatre makers immediately during the rehearsal or devising process, sound can be fed directly into the ears of the audiences in pieces such as Small Metal Objects or Judith Adams’ Ghost or Clickwind

Speed and immediacy is one of the key benefits of digital technology. New ideas can be tried out immediately, and discarded or incorporated into the thing being created. The speed at which one can do this means that the train of thought is not interupted, the creative process can continue.

Earlier this year Leo Warner and Mark Grimmer of Fifty Nine Productions - who have contributed brilliant work to Katie Mitchell’s Waves and Attempts on her Life and the projection design for Warhorse - were made the National Theatre’s youngest ever associates. … From what I’ve seen of it so far, Fifty Nine’s contributions to the productions on which they collaborate, whether it is in Black Watch or the adaptation of the cartoon Alex, are integral to the production and always in service of it. But I keep seeing productions in which it appears as if playing with the technologies is the prime interest of the theatre-makers, rather than the show itself. [My links].

Previously, ideas for video and multimedia had to be planned in advance, and video artists would return days or weeks later with the ideas discussed… by which time, the creative process had moved one. Being able to quickly realize a complex idea on screen is probably also part of Fifty Nine’s success. You need quick technology, but you also need a quick mind to grasp what the director wants to see, and why. This, as much as the state-of-the-art technology, is why Leo and Mark were appointed associates at the National Theatre, earlier this year.

Another day, another clash of cultures story. This time, some Jewish school-girls have refused to answer questions in an English exam on Shakespeare because he was apparently anti-semitic. Seth Freedman makes some comments at Comment is Free. By his analysis, since the head teacher (a Rabbi at an Orthodox School) is condoning the girls’ boycott, its a slippery slope into all kinds of intolerance.

However, as with other examples of multicultural friction, liberal democracy looks robust, and does not seem to be at all threatened. No concessions whatsoever were made to the girls’ religious beliefs, and they failed their exams accordingly.

On a separate note, the boycott itself is surely silly and counter-productive. In a similar manner, one might refuse to study the Declaration of Independence on the basis that its authors were a bunch of slave owners. Regardless of whether Shakespeare was an anti-semite or not (and, given his portrayal of Shylock, he probably was), the man has had such a huge impact on the English language that to ignore him is hugely disadvantageous from an intellectual point of view. Critically analysing a text with reference to an artist’s life an opinions is a crucial tool, which these pupils are denying themselves. Likewise, critically analysing an artists output with regards to their times is important too. Was Shakespeare any more or less anti-semitic than his contemporaries, say? How do the views of the playwright compare to the views of the rest of his society? What role does the character of Shylock play in the history of Judaism? I fear that the quest of these girls to maintain some kind of intellectual purity might result in intellectual ignorance. And that outcome will not help them, their community, or their beliefs.

Oh, the sadness at the end of a good book! I’ve just finished a 917 page doorstop of a novel, and I am fidgeting with loss.

Reading a good book is tinged with tragedy. Its fantastic, but you know it must end. It is a terminal condition. The melancholy sets in when you pass the halfway point, and the weight of the paper in your right hand becomes lighter than the paper in your left. The book withers away in your palms, and the last chapters are to be savoured. You are torn between the need to know what happens, and the desire to prolong the moment.

Part of you misses the characters, who you have grown to care for over many weeks, as you chaperone them through their adventure. But mainly you miss the fact, the act, of reading. It was a solipstic pleasure, now lost. You close the book, and you’re sitting, empty handed, back in the mundane.

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This is the photo of the back of the head of someone taking a photo of the back of the head of someone taking a photo of the back of the head of someone taking a photo of the back of the head of Shah Rukh Khan.

While waiting for the Wisconsin and Hawaii primary results to drip in, I thought I would have a look at the various presidential candidate websites:

• HillaryClinton.com
• MikeHuckabee.com
• JohnMcCain.com
• BarackObama.com

Its striking how similar they all are in layout. Indeed, the sites for Clinton, McCain and Obama are so alike I thought they might have been created using the same software, but this isn’t so. All have the candidates name and logo in the top-left corner of the site (in common with most websites these days), an e-mail sign-up form in the top-right, and a donate button right below that. All have horizontal menus, a three column layout, with a large graphic element accorss the first two columns, below the menu. While this might demonstrate to some people that the candidates are clones of one another, I’m inclined to see it as proof that all the politicians recognise the value of good design. Following a recognised and established layout allows users to navigate the site quickly and efficiently.

There is, I think, a cliche of the ‘Presidential Candidate Logo’. The surname, of course, coupled with the year digits and then some flag-like representation in red, white and blue. Joe Biden and Dennis Kucinich come close, but its Hillary Clinton who takes the prize for the most obvious logo in the field. What’s quirky about Senator Clinton is that her logo is derived from her first name.
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The GCap network has decided to close a couple of its radio stations, claiming that there is “no future” in digital radio. I think, for the moment at least, there is a place for DAB, since no other medium is quite as portable. To achieve the same effect via internet radio, one would need wireless devices that were much more durable than laptops, with much more powerful sound than PDAs and mobile phones, as well as a prevalence of open wireless networks. None of these innovations exist at present, but it would be foolish to suggest they will not emerge in the next few years. Indeed, since broadcasters can switch from DAB to the internet comparatively easily (many, including the BBC, broadcast via both mediums anyway), there may not be sufficient incentive for them to promote DAB.

Nostalgia of CDs

A correspondent of mine, currently at university, has observed that iPods may be killing off nostalgia too. Previously, in halcyon days gone by, she and her friends would listen to a CD or mix tape on their stereo, while they were all hanging out together in their shared flat. Since changing a CD is an inconvenience, they would often listen to the same album for months on end. These days, however, they are much more likely to be listening to their iPod (perhaps with one of those sound station amplifiers), with its near infinite playlist of tunes. No one CD evolves to become the ’soundtrack of the summer’ which reminds them of days gone by, nothing to bond them to this time and that place. (h/t Harri)

Today’s Metro reports on a woman who can remember every detail of her life. Like many things in the Metro, its recycled news, in this case at least a couple of years old. Nevertheless, its a captivating story, reminiscent of Jorge Luis Borges Funes the Memorius:

We, in a glance, perceive three wine glasses on the table; Funes saw all the shoots, clusters, and grapes of the vine. He remembered the shapes of the clouds in the south at dawn on the 30th of April of 1882, and he could compare them in his recollection with the marbled grain in the design of a leather-bound book which he had seen only once, and with the lines in the spray which an oar raised in the Rio Negro on the eve of the battle of the Quebracho. These recollections were not simple; each visual image was linked to muscular sensations, thermal sensations, etc. He could reconstruct all his dreams, all his fancies. Two or three times he had reconstructed an entire day. He told me: “I have more memories in myself alone than all men have had since the world was a world.” And again: “My dreams are like your vigils.” And again, toward dawn: “My memory, sir, is like a garbage disposal.”

Forgetfulness is sometimes a blessing.

I see that an Alaskan lady named Marie Smith Jones has passed away. As the last speaker of the Eyak language, an entire way of thinking dies with her. (h/t Mark G)

A couple of competing quotes come to mind. From GK Chesterton’s Napoleon of Notting Hill:

“The Señor will forgive me,” said the President. “May I ask the Señor how, under ordinary circumstances, he catches a wild horse?”

“I never catch a wild horse,” replied Barker, with dignity.

“Precisely,” said the other; “and there ends your absorption of the talents….
In Nicaragua we had a way of catching wild horses–by lassooing the fore feet–which was supposed to be the best in South America. If you are going to include all the talents, go and do it. If not, permit me to say what I have always said, that something went from the world when Nicaragua was civilised.”

Versus this one, from Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia:

We shed as we pick up, like travellers who must carry everything in their arms, and what we let fall will be picked up by those behind. The procession is very long and life is very short. We die on the march. But there is nothing outside the march so nothing can be lost to it. The missing plays of Sophocles will turn up piece by piece, or be written again in another language. Ancient cures for diseases will reveal themselves once more. Mathematical discoveries glimpsed and lost to view will have their time again. You do not suppose, my lady, that if all of Archimedes had been hiding in the great library of Alexandria, we would be at a loss for a corkscrew?

I doubt very much that my inital thought, that the Eyaks of Alaska are some kind of Eskimo (or Esquimaux, as Chesterton has it), is correct. Nevertheless, their Northerly homeland does remind me of the story about how Eskimo’s have fourty words for snow (or is it fifty? Or a hundred?) What special, specific thoughts and words have we lost now that Mrs Smith Jones has passed away? Matthew Parris, writing in the Spectator last week, says “I know exactly what I mean. I just can’t think of the word for it” referring to those Meaning of Liff or Meaning of Tingo type words that should exist, but do not. How many words, phrases and thoughts could the Eyak have taught him?

Congratulations to Billie Piper, and Laurence Fox, married today.

Its none of my business, of course (or maybe it is), but does the Church of England not bother with the whole “no marriage for divorcees” rigmarole anymore? Or is that the sort of thing that can be waived for celebrities?