The Friday Arts Diary

Our cultural picks for the week ahead.

Festival
The London Korean Film Festival, various venues, 22 October-3 November

Across various London venues, comprising 33 events, the seventh London Korean Film Festival will feature a combination of films ranging from low-budget independent works to big-budget, box office hits. This year’s festival sees the return of the animation section which will include the violent morality tale King of Pigs, a film that has been doing the rounds on the international festival circuit. “Regardless if you are a connoisseur of Korean cinema or completely new to the country’s film scene we have created an exciting and varied program that will delight, thrill, scare and, most importantly, entertain you,” says festival director Hye-jung Jeon.

Music

Barclaycard Mercury Prize, Channel 4, 1 November, 12:10am

The 20th Mercury Prize for best album sees the list of nominees dominated by guitar bands – including the Macabees – and singer-songwriters, most notably former Pulp guitarist Richard Hawley. But it’s Plan B who’s tipped to win. His third album marks a change in direction, his sound harder, his music more political. Elsewhere on the list is the funky-jazz outfit Roller Trio and South London solo artist Jessie Ware.

Art

Seduced by Art: Photography Past and Present, National Gallery, 31 October-20 January 2013

The National Gallery’s first major photographic exhibition will show the work of leading photographers alongside historical paintings to emphasise how photographers draw on the traditions of fine art to inspire their own work. The exhibition will show the works of painters, early photographers and contemporary photographers ordered by traditional genres such as portraiture, landscapes and nudes. The exhibition will feature images from British and French photographers as well as works from international contemporary artists.

Television

Homeland, Channel 4, 28 October, 9pm

Last week, former marine, current congressman and reluctant, part-time al-Qaeda operative Nicholas Brody killed his tailor (who was also his purveyor of bespoke explosive vests). A devastating result was that this caused him to be late for his wife’s party – which made her angry. Meanwhile, twitchy, jazz-loving, ex-CIA agent and current English teacher Carrie Mathison gets un-friended by the CIA – again – before being vindicated by seeing Brody’s “By the time you watch this, I would have killed a lot of people, including myself” terrorist farewell video. This week we can expect more of the same kitchen-sink shenanigans. Brody’s video will be shown to Estes, Carrie’s former boss, who will authorise surveillance on Brody. But will Carrie get to put her twitchy eye to the telescope?

Film

Hackney Halloween screenings, Round Chapel, Hackney, London, 30 October

On the eve of Halloween, the creators of the Rooftop Film Club will host a short series of classic spooky films. The venue, Hackney’s Round Chapel, will only add to the ambience of horror. The event will comprise four screenings, two of which are suitable for children: ET: The Extra Terrestrial, Shaun of the Dead, Ghostbusters and The Lost Boys. 2012 marks the thirtieth anniversary of ET and a special edition Blu-ray was released this month to mark the occasion. A note on the dress code and a disclaimer from the organisers: Fancy dress is not enforced but encouraged. Please note that Experience Cinema does not accept responsibility for any lost limbs, teeth, or fingers!”

Richard Hawley: one of the nominees for the 2012 Barclaycard Mercury Prize. Photo: Getty Images.
NANCY JO IACOI/GALLERY STOCK
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There are only two rules for an evening drink: it must be bitter, and it must be cold

A Negroni is the aperitif of choice in bars everywhere from London to Palermo - and no wonder.

The aperitif has the odd distinction of being the only alcohol that can always rely on a sober audience: it is the opener, the stimulant, a spur to the appetite for good food and good conversation. This preparatory beverage is considered the height of sophistication, and certainly nobody labouring in field or factory ever required a pep to their evening appetite. Still, to take a drink before one starts drinking is hardly clever behaviour. So why do it?

One reason is surely the wish to separate the working day from the evening’s leisure, an increasingly pressing matter as we lose the ability to switch off. This may change the nature of the aperitif, which was generally supposed to be light, in alcohol and character. Once, one was expected to quaff a pre-dinner drink and go in to dine with faculties and taste buds intact; now, it might be more important for those who want an uninterrupted meal to get preprandially plastered. That way, your colleagues may contact you but they won’t get much sense out of you, and pretty soon they’ll give up and bother someone else.

The nicest thing about the aperitif, and the most dangerous, is that it doesn’t follow rules. It’s meant to be low in alcohol, but nobody ever accused a gin and tonic or a Negroni (Campari, gin and vermouth in equal portions) of that failing; and sherry, which is a fabulous aperitif (not least because you can keep drinking it until the meal or the bottle ends), has more degrees of alcohol than most wines. An aperitif should not be heavily perfumed or flavoured, for fear of spoiling your palate, yet some people love pastis, the French aniseed drink that goes cloudy in water, and that you can practically smell across the Channel. They say the scent actually enhances appetite.

Really only two rules apply. An aperitif should be bitter – or, at any rate, it shouldn’t be sweet, whatever the fans of red vermouth may tell you. And it must be cold. Warm drinks such as Cognac and port are for after dinner. Not for nothing did Édith Piaf warble, in “Mon apéro”, about drowning her amorous disappointments in aperitifs: fail to cool your passions before sharing a table, and you belong with the barbarians.

On the other hand, conversing with your nearest over a small snack and an appropriate beverage, beyond the office and before the courtesies and complications of the dinner table, is the essence of cultured behaviour. If, as is sometimes thought, civilisation has a pinnacle, surely it has a chilled apéro carefully balanced on top.

The received wisdom is that the French and Italians, with their apéritifs and aperitivos, are the experts in these kinds of drinks. Certainly the latter are partial to their Aperol spritzes, and the former to such horrid, wine-based tipples as Lillet and Dubonnet. But the English are good at gin and the Americans invented the Martini. As for Spain, tapas were originally snacks atop a covering that kept the flies out of one’s pre-dinner drink: tapa means lid.

Everywhere, it seems, as evening approaches, people crave a drink that in turn will make them salivate: bitterness, the experts tell us, prepares the mouth to welcome food. The word “bitter” may come from “bite”, in which case the aperitif’s place before dinner is assured.

I like to think that a good one enables the drinker to drown all sour feelings, and go in to dinner cleansed and purified. Fanciful, perhaps. But what better lure to fancy than a beverage that exists only to bring on the evening’s pleasures?

Nina Caplan is the Louis Roederer Pio Cesare Food and Wine Writer of the Year

Nina Caplan is the 2014 Fortnum & Mason Drink Writer of the Year and 2014 Louis Roederer International Wine Columnist of the Year for her columns on drink in the New Statesman. She tweets as @NinaCaplan.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times