Easter Arts Diary

Our cultural picks for the holiday ahead.

Concert

Easter Weekend at Aldeburgh Music, Suffolk IP17 1SP. 29-31 March

The Alderburgh is marking Benjamin Britten’s veneration of Purcell with a weekend of concerts. Providing a snapshot of a powerful musical bond, the concerts will variously delve into musical history, bringing it up-to-date with a present generation of performers and composers.

There are two concert performances of Purcell’s powerful opera, Dido and Aenas, set in Orford Church, while La Nuova Musica connects Purcell with his predecessor, John Blow. Featuring ensembles closely bound to the Aldeburgh, including a leading role for the young artist programme, the weekend is described as “a celebration of the patron saint of music and musicians whose feast day is Britten’s own birthday”.

 

Dance

Sutra, Sadler’s Wells. London, EC1R 4TN. 3-6 April

After touring the globe, showing to audiences as far-flung as New Zealand and Singapore, Sutra returns to Sadler’s Wells on Wednesday for its fifth anniversary. The collaboration between choreographer Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui, Turner Prize-winning sculptor Antony Gormley and 17 Buddhist monks from the Shaolin Temple in China has been described as "outstanding".

Polish composer Szymon Brzóska was specially commissioned to write the score, while Gormley’s set of 21 wooden boxes provides a striking backdrop for a unique artistic production which explores the philosophy and faith behind the Shaolin tradition.

 

Art

Nástio Mosquito: Nastia Answers Gabi. IKON gallery, Birmingham B1 2HS. Now-21 April

Following his appearance at the Tate Modern last November, artist, videographer, poet and provocateur Nástio Mosquito’s latest exhibition reflects on the nature of our globalised world, with particular reference to representations of Africa and post-colonial clichés.

A notoriously irreverent artist, his videos are knowingly politically-incorrect. He picks apart the philosophical language familiar to the art world in order to convey his philosophical scepticism about contemporary society. Including videos in which he talks to his female equivalent Nástia, as well as a short scene in which he answers questions from renowned curator Gabi Ngcobo, Mosquito uses humour to explore post-colonial clichés and expresses an urgent desire to engage with reality on all levels.

 

Theatre

Untold Stories. The Duchess Theatre, London WC2B 5LA. 22 March onwards

The National Theatre’s critically-acclaimed double bill, featuring two auto-biographical recollections by Alan Bennett, is now showing at the Duchess Theatre for a 12-week run.

Hymn, the first of the two plays, is a memoir of music and childhood, directed by Nadia Fall to music by George Fenton. A nostalgic piece, it brings together Bennett’s memories of concerts at Leeds Hall with stories of his father teaching him the violin.

Cocktail Sticks is directed by Nicholas Hytner and was first performed at the National Theatre last year. Described as "tender, touching and sad”, it is inspired by themes and conversations from Bennett’s memoir A Life Like Other People’s. Alex Jennings play Alan Bennett in both pieces.

 

The Life and Sort of Death of Eric Argyle. Soho Theatre. London. 3-20 April.

Nominated for ‘Best New Play’ at the Irish Theatre Awards and off the back of a hugely successful Edinburgh and Dublin run, The Life and Sort of Death of Eric Argyle will be showing at the Soho Theatre throughout April. A play about a man who has barely lived enough to have regrets, critics have described it as “high accomplished” and a “marvellous production”. Written by Dublin-based playwright Ross Dungan and performed by eight Irish actors, this exciting new play is story-telling at its best.

 

Chinese shaolin monk performs in 'Sutra', a ballet by Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui, on July 8, 2008 in Avignon, southeastern France, as part of the 62nd Avignon international festival. Photo: Anne-Christine Poujoulat/Getty Images
ANTONIO OLMOS / EYEVINE
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How Ken Loach's radical vision won him a second Palm d'Or

In Loach's films, authenticity is everything, and when his quest for realism pays off, there's nothing as raw in all of cinema.

On 22 May, at the age of 79, Ken Loach became the first British director to win the top prize twice at the Cannes Film Festival. His previous Palme d’Or, in 2006, was for The Wind That Shakes the Barley, which dramatised the British occupation of Ireland and the origins of the IRA. This time, he won for I, Daniel Blake, the story of an ailing carpenter wrongly declared fit for work by the callous UK benefits system. No wonder Ed Vaizey, the culture minister, could issue only the most grudging acknowledgement, alluding vaguely to “Brit success!” in a tweet that failed to mention either Loach or the film.

The actor and Cannes jury member Donald Sutherland, on the other hand, called I, Daniel Blake “an absolutely terrific movie that resonates in your heart and soul”. It was an incongruous delight to see Loach posing before swarms of paparazzi. He usually disdains such frivolities; he might be red but he’s hardly red carpet. “As a film-maker, you’re forever involved in things that constantly inflate their own importance,” he once complained. Artifice, hyperbole and celebrity hold no appeal. Even film-making itself is full of irritating impediments. “If Loach could make a film without a camera, he would,” said Trevor Griffiths, who collaborated with him on Fatherland (1986).

Authenticity is everything. Unusually, Loach shoots in sequence, even if it requires moving back and forth at great cost between locations. In the days of celluloid, he would forfeit much of his fee to buy more film stock so that his beloved improvisations could roll on and on. When I visited the set of Carla’s Song near Loch Lomond in 1995, Loach gave the actor Robert Carlyle a good-natured ticking off for speaking to me between takes. “I’d rather he didn’t talk to anyone,” he said, “because then he’ll start thinking about things in terms of technique and who he really is, and it’ll all become conscious.”

When the quest for realism pays off, there is nothing as raw in all cinema. Think of the chilling attack on a family home by loan sharks in his 1993 drama Raining Stones, one of the films that began his most successful period, or the climax of Cathy Come Home, made for the BBC in 1966 and arguably his most groundbreaking film. As Cathy (Carol White) has her children taken off her by social workers and police, Loach films the entire traumatic episode in a wide shot with a hidden camera to preserve the reality. The movie led directly to the founding of Crisis.

Conversely, Loach at his worst can be one of the most simplistic sentimentalists out there. The characterisation of the salt-of-the-earth heroes in recent films such as Jimmy’s Hall and Route Irish, or the pantomime-villain Brits in The Wind That Shakes the Barley, shows what happens when action is overpowered by agenda.

Born in Nuneaton, Warwickshire, Loach read law at Oxford but became seduced by theatre directing and acting: he was in a revue for which Dudley Moore composed the music, and understudied in the West End in One Over the Eight. He joined the BBC in 1963, where he brought extra earthiness to Z-Cars before finding his ideal outlet in The Wednesday Play slot that went out after the news. “We were very anxious for our plays not to be considered dramas but as continuations of the news,” he said. He made ten TV films under that banner but it was with his second movie, Kes, in 1969, that he took flight, proving that the gritty and the lyrical need not be mutually exclusive.

His politics was fully formed by this point. Though he has rejected claims that he is Marxist or Trotskyist, he admits that the analysis to which he turned after his disillusionment with Harold Wilson in the mid-1960s was a Marxist one. “The idea of a class analysis was the one we identified with,” he said of himself and his collaborators the producer Tony Garnett and the writer Jim Allen. “What we realised was that social democrats and Labour politicians were simply acting on behalf of the ruling class, protecting the interests of capital.”

This stance was consolidated by a series of run-ins in the 1980s, when he saw his work banned and thwarted by political forces. The transmission of his four-part 1983 television documentary Questions of Leadership, which asked whether the trade union leadership was adequately representing its members’ interests, was delayed and blocked by Labour string-pulling. Which Side Are You On? – a documentary about the miners’ strike – was rejected because of footage showing police violence.

Since his full-time return to cinema in the early 1990s, acclaim has eclipsed controversy. Even if he had not won a Palme d’Or, his stamp is all over other directors who have won that award in the past 20 years. The Belgian social realists Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne (Rosetta, The Child) have never hidden their debt to him, while recent winners such as Jacques Audiard (Dheepan) and Cristian Mingiu (4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days) exhibit his mixture of directness, compassion and realism.

If there is anything that defines him, it is his fight, which has made it possible for him to remain one of cinema’s angriest and most effective voices. “In the long term, I guess I’m optimistic because people always fight back,” he said. “The reason to make films is just to let people express that, to share that kind of resilience because that’s what makes you smile. It’s what makes you get up in the morning.”

“I, Daniel Blake” is released later this year

Ryan Gilbey is the New Statesman's film critic. He is also the author of It Don't Worry Me (Faber), about 1970s US cinema, and a study of Groundhog Day in the "Modern Classics" series (BFI Publishing). He was named reviewer of the year in the 2007 Press Gazette awards.

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit odd squad