Friday Arts Diary

Our cultural picks for the week ahead.

Film

Returning to Oz. BFI, Southbank, London SE1, 1-14 March 

In anticipation of Sam Raimi’s soon-to-be-released Oz: The Great and Powerful, the BFI will be screening Victor Fleming’s 1939 classic film The wizard of Oz as well as two early film adaptations: The Patchwork Girl of Oz (1914) with live piano on 1 and 3 March, and The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1910) which is the earliest surviving film of the Oz story.

Dance

Mise en Scene.  Barbican Centre, London EC2, until 9 June

Leading contemporary artist Philippe Parreno has devised this performance in conjunction with the Barbican’s featured exhibition- The Bride and Bachelors: Duchamp with Cage, Cunningham, Rauschenberg, and Johns. Inspired by the choreography of Cunningham and the music of John Cage, two Yamaha Disklavier pianos will be playing his scores during the dancers’ performances. Due to Cage’s fervent interest in soundscapes, Parreno has devised his own interpretation of Cage’s 4’33”

Live dance "Events"  will be performed on Thursday evenings and weekends throughout the duration of the exhibition by dancers from Richard Alston Dance Company and by students and graduates from London Contemporary Dance School
 

Theatre

The Captain of Kopenick. National Theatre, London SE1, until 4 April

“I used to think all the trouble in the world was caused by people giving orders. Now I reckon that it’s people being so willing to take them.”

Petty criminal Wilhelm Voigt has just been released from prison. He wanders 1910 Berlin in pursuit of his identity papers. When he picks up an abandoned military uniform in a fancy-dress shop, he finds the city ready to obey his every command. At the head of six soldiers, he heads to the Mayor’s office and confiscates the treasury with ease on the grounds of speculated corruption. However, what he seeks is official recognition of his existence. Ron Hutchinson’s humourous take on Carl Zuckmayer’s The Captain of Köpenick, first staged in Germany in 1931, sees Antony Sher starring in the title role.

 

Art

Art13 London. Olympia Grand Hall, London W14, 1–3 March

Art13 London is the capital’s brand new art fair for modern and contemporary art. The first edition will showcase 129 leading galleries from 30  countries and will exhibit thousands of artworks, including painting, sculpture, photography, prints and editions or multimedia, with prices ranging from £100- £500, 000. Sculptures by emerging and established sculptors will be on display outside the fair and a series of free tours, performances, talks and high-profile panel discussions will take place. In addition, 21 large scale sculptures by contemporary sculptors will be exhibited as "Art 13 Projects".

Photo: Getty Images
Photo: Hunter Skipworth / Moment
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Cones and cocaine: the ice cream van's links with organised crime

A cold war is brewing to the tinkling of "Greensleeves".

Anyone who has spent a summer in this country will be familiar with the Pavlovian thrill the first tinny notes of “Greensleeves” stir within the stolid British breast.

The arrival of the ice cream van – usually at least two decades older than any other vehicle on the road, often painted with crude approximations of long-forgotten cartoon characters and always, without fail, exhorting fellow motorists to “Mind that child!” – still feels like a simple pleasure of the most innocent kind.

The mobile ice cream trade, though, has historical links with organised crime.

Not only have the best routes been the subject of many, often violent turf wars, but more than once lollies have served as cover for goods of a more illicit nature, most notoriously during the Glasgow “Ice Cream Wars” of the early 1980s, in which vans were used as a front for fencing stolen goods and dealing drugs, culminating in an arson attack that left six people dead.

Although the task force set up to tackle the problem was jokingly nicknamed the “Serious Chimes Squad” by the press, the reality was somewhat less amusing. According to Thomas “T C” Campbell, who served almost 20 years for the 1984 murders before having his conviction overturned in 2004, “A lot of my friends were killed . . . I’ve been caught with axes, I’ve been caught with swords, open razors, every conceivable weapon . . . meat cleavers . . . and it was all for nothing, no gain, nothing to it, just absolute madness.”

Tales of vans being robbed at gunpoint and smashed up with rocks abounded in the local media of the time and continue to pop up – a search for “ice cream van” on Google News throws up the story of a Limerick man convicted last month of supplying “wholesale quantities” of cocaine along with ice cream. There are also reports of the Mob shifting more than 40,000 oxycodone pills through a Lickety Split ice cream van on Staten Island between 2009 and 2010.

Even for those pushing nothing more sinister than a Strawberry Split, the ice cream business isn’t always light-hearted. BBC Radio 4 devoted an entire programme last year to the battle for supremacy between a local man who had been selling ice creams in Newbiggin-by-the-Sea since 1969 and an immigrant couple – variously described in the tabloids as Polish and Iraqi but who turned out to be Greek – who outbid him when the council put the contract out to tender. The word “outsiders” cropped up more than once.

This being Britain, the hostilities in Northumberland centred around some rather passive-aggressive parking – unlike in Salem, Oregon, where the rivalry from 2009 between an established local business and a new arrival from Mexico ended in a highish-speed chase (for an ice cream van) and a showdown in a car park next to a children’s playground. (“There’s no room for hate in ice cream,” one of the protagonists claimed after the event.) A Hollywood production company has since picked up the rights to the story – which, aptly, will be co-produced by the man behind American Sniper.

Thanks to competition from supermarkets (which effortlessly undercut Mister Softee and friends), stricter emission laws in big cities that have hit the UK’s ageing fleet particularly hard, and tighter regulations aimed at combating childhood obesity, the trade isn’t what it used to be. With margins under pressure and a customer base in decline, could this summer mark the start of a new cold war?

Felicity Cloake is the New Statesman’s food columnist. Her latest book is The A-Z of Eating: a Flavour Map for Adventurous Cooks.

This article first appeared in the 22 June 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The zombie PM

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