The Friday Arts Diary

Our cultural picks for the week ahead.

Dance

Tate Modern, London SE1 – Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker, 18– 20 July

The prominent Belgian choreographer reworks her 1982 minimalist dance piece, Fase: Four Movements to the Music of Steve Reich, for The Tanks – the Tate Modern’s new gallery space devoted to live art. De Keersmaeker explores the relationship between music and dance in this hour-long performance, a classic piece from Flanders’s 1980s contemporary dance movement, exploiting the Tanks’ industrial space – originally the chambers containing oil that fuelled the former Bankside Power Station.

Music

Peckham Rye Car Park, London SE15 – John Adams’ “Harmonielehre”, 14 July

The American composer John Adams’s romantic-minimalist epic, Harmonielehre, is radically reimagined in the stripped-down expanse of Peckham Rye Multi-Storey Car Park. The 100-piece TROSP Orchestra, conducted by Christopher Stark, performs Adams’s 1985 symphonic poem as part of a series of summer events run by Bold Tendencies – a non-profit sculpture project that uses the car park for exhibitions.

Comedy

Royal Festival Hall, London SE1 – Stewart Lee, 18 July

The cerebral stand-up brings a slimmed down version of his show, Carpet Remnant World, to the Southbank. “It’s form interrogated by content through a haze of passive-aggressive monotony,” Lee explains, in a performance that slowly unfolds from a lengthy apology for inadequate content into a gleeful rejection of narrative structure and a brutal deconstruction of comedy itself.
 

Theatre

Shakespeare’s Globe, London SE1 - Richard III, 14 July – 13 October

Mark Rylance returns to the Globe for the first time since his 1995-2005 tenure as artistic director, in an all-male Original Practices production of Richard III. Rylance takes on the monstrous title role, in a journey of homicidal ambition that explores performance-practice from 1593. Richard III follows on the heels of the Globe’s Cultural Olympiad spring season when it staged each of Shakespeare’s plays in a different language.
 

Exhibition

Wellcome Collection, London NW1 – Superhuman, 19 July – 16 October

Superhuman, an exhibition exploring human enhancement from 600BCE to 2050, traces the history of an obsession with improving the body’s performance. From an ancient Egyptian prosthetic toe through to the superhero fantasies of comics, Superhuman provides an eclectic look at the ethics and science of human adaptability.
 
Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker at the Tanks (Photo:Getty)
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How a dramatized account of Mark Duggan's death found a prime-time audience

I usually have an aversion to actors pretending to be police officers in this kind of scenario, but Lawful Killing: Mark Duggan was done with surprising care and nuance.

The BBC grows ever more lily-livered in the matter of current affairs. It would, you feel, rather devote an hour to yet another historian in a silly costume than to a piece of investigative journalism – the problem being that while the latter often has serious consequences, the wives of Henry VIII, being dead, cannot be libelled, and thus shows about them are consequence-free.

But what’s this? When I saw it, I had to rub my eyes. Lawful Killing: Mark Duggan, a 90-minute film at 8.30pm on BBC1 (5 December) about the shooting of the 29-year-old Londoner by the police in 2011? Who commissioned this extravaganza of inquiry, and by what strange magic did they secure for it such a whopping great slot in the pre-Christmas schedule? I would love to know. If you have the answers, do please drop me a postcard.

What made it even more amazing was that this documentary contained no hint of a scoop. It was revelatory, but its disclosures were achieved cumulatively, through the careful pulling together of every possible version of the events of that August day: wildly conflicting stories that its director, Jaimie D’Cruz, told through a combination of interviews and reconstructions.

I usually have an aversion to actors pretending to be police officers in this kind of scenario; they often come over like The Sweeney gone wrong. But the dramatisations in Lawful Killing had a terrible veracity, being based almost entirely on transcripts of the real thing (inquest accounts, witnesses’ interviews, and so on). Every voice seemed to reveal something, however unwittingly. In these accounts, the attentive viewer heard uncertainty and exaggeration, ambivalence and self-aggrandisement, misunderstanding and back-covering – all those human things that make the so-called truth so elusive and so damnably difficult to pin to the page.

A lot of the supposed intelligence that caused the police to follow Duggan that day remains secret, and I can’t see this changing any time soon. For this reason, I am not qualified, even after seeing the film, to say whether or not he was holding a gun as he emerged from a minicab on that warm afternoon. (The inquest jury decided that Duggan threw a weapon on to a nearby patch of grass before he was – lawfully – shot by an armed officer, while the Independent Police Complaints Commission, which had access to the secret intelligence, decided he was killed while holding one.) However, other things do seem to me to be crystal clear, and chief among them is the strange, cowardly and stupidly inept behaviour of the police immediately after his death.

In those hours, rumours swirled. At Duggan’s mother’s house, the family gathered, expecting a knock on the door at any time. How, they wondered, can a person be dead when the police have not yet informed their closest relatives? But no one came. The next day, the extended clan went to Tottenham Police Station where, again, they waited, for several hours. “Someone will be with you shortly,” they were told. Still, no one came. It was, incidentally, as they finally made their way back home that Duggan’s sister Kay Harrison saw a burning car. It was the first sign of the nationwide riots that – speaking of consequences – ultimately resulted in the deaths of five people.

Meanwhile on Channel 4 is a show for people for whom the Netflix Gilmore Girls reboot isn’t sugary enough (I can’t imagine who they are, these addicts with rotting black stumps for teeth). I was secretly hopeful that This Is Us (Tuesdays, 9pm), which is made by NBC, would be a bit like Thirtysomething, the touchy-feely series about a bunch of baby-boomer friends that I watched obsessively as a sixth former.

But, no. This is the kind of show in which a guy finds his long-lost parent, only to discover that the noble, adorable daddy is – boo hoo – dying of cancer. Its principal characters, three siblings, don’t talk to each other, or to anyone else. Rather, they make speeches, most of which come in two basic formats: mushy and super-mushy. This is schmaltz on toast with a mighty vat of syrup on the side.

Rachel Cooke trained as a reporter on The Sunday Times. She is now a writer at The Observer. In the 2006 British Press Awards, she was named Interviewer of the Year.

This article first appeared in the 08 December 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brexit to Trump