Since Christmas...

In this last week:

Wonderful...



Beautiful...

Profound...



Surprising...

1 Year Ago:

Twin town...

Meretricious (and a happy new year)...

Sad news today to hear that Gore Vidal is dead. He was a friend of Eleanor Roosevelt, Princess Margaret, Tennesse Williams and Leonard Bernstein. He was close to John F Kennedy and confident of Jackie Kennedy. With his quick wit and brutal frankness, he often seemed the only voice of reason and critical thought to emanate from the US.

Vidal was an author, playwright, essayist, screenwriter and political activist. He wrote plays that were Broadway hits (The Best Man and Visit to a Small Planet), historical novels (Burr, 1876 and Lincoln), political essays (Armageddon? and United States: Essays 1952–1992) and film screenplays (Ben-Hur and the original draft for Caligula). His autobiography, Palimpsest is well worth digging out.

He was known for his acerbic tongue and lightning wit. Asked whether his first romantic encounter was homosexual or heterosexual, Vidal replied that he had been "too polite to ask". The BBC have put together a list of quotes to mark his death. They all display the man's sharp sense of humour.

My favorite quote is not included in the BBC's list. It goes something like:

The British writer Richard Adams, appearing alongside Vidal on That Was The Week That Was, called his work "meretricious" "Pardon?" said Vidal. "Meretricious" repeated Adams. In a split second Vidal was back at him, "Meretricious to you," he smiled, "and a happy new year."

You can find out more about Gore Vidal here.

1 Year Ago:

Where's the justice...?

Run 01/08/2012 17:29
Distance	5:01 km	Time	29:00
Pace	5:47 min/km	Cadence	81 spm
Comments: Heavy downpours.

Run 30/07/2012 17:38
Distance	5:01 km	Time	30:15
Pace	6:02 min/km	Cadence	79 spm
Comments: Grey.

Run 27/07/2012 16:57
Distance	5:06 km	Time	30:13
Pace	5:59 min/km	Cadence	79 spm
Comments: Sunny and hot.

Briefs...

Hailing from Brisbane, Briefs are a boylesque troupe of Australian beefcake, wrapped up in glitter, feathers and fluff; they are currently appearing at Cardiff's Blysh Festival hosted at the WMC.

Their performance is a remarkable mix of foul mouthed cabaret with an added splash of circus and a generous orgasmic squirt of camp. Muscles are flexed, eyelashes are batted, buttocks are clenched and tongues are firmly placed in cheeks. I guarantee that you've never seen anything like it!

I've been to a number of Blysh Festival performances over the past few years and I've seen a number of cabaret acts. I've never been disappointed but Briefs' performance last night moved things to a new high. They have certainly raised the bar.

I, along with everyone else at last night's performance, laughed like a drain from beginning to end; marveling at these boys' athleticism and irreverent wit whilst ogling their beefcake, buffed up bodies.

If you like a bit of camp, if you enjoy cabaret, if you've got a sense of humour or even if, at some basic level, you consider yourself to be alive; beg, steal or borrow to get a ticket to see this life affirming spectacle. They've got one final performance in Cardiff tonight before continuing with their UK tour.

Go and see them; you won't be disappointed. Promise.

1 Year Ago:

Elaine Carmody fights for your rights...

Run 20/07/2012 17:14
Distance	5:16 km	Time	29:35
Pace	5:44 min/km	Cadence	80 spm
Comments: Sunny.

Run 18/07/2012 17:19
Distance	5.02 km	Time	27:33
Pace	5:29 min/km	Cadence	81 spm
Comments: Sunny.

Victor Spinetti...

Victor Spinetti died yesterday. He was a Welsh actor, writer, director and raconteur. He found fame with Joan Littlewood's Theatre Workshop and in the films he made with the Beatles. He performed for the RSC, in the West End and on Broadway and was a talented mimic.

I was lucky enough to meet him a few times during my time as an actor. He always told a good story:

Victor was working on a play in Paris and his mother and sister were visiting from Cwm. Rehearsals were running late and so he rang up his good friend Marlene Dietrich to ask if she would entertain them at his hotel until such time as he could get there.

After rehearsals had finished and he dashed across town in a cab, he walked into the lobby of his hotel to find his mother and sister sat in the bar with Dietrich. They were dressed identically in homemade dresses, the material having been bought in Pontypool market and there they were; giving Marlene Dietrich beauty and fashion tips.

He had hundreds of funny anecdotes, many of which found their way into his books and into his one man shows. Here's the BBC News obituary. Here's the Guardian's obituary.

R.I.P. Victor Spinetti 1929 - 2012

Rhod Gilbert...

I went to see Rhod Gilbert at the Wales Millennium Centre last night. I laughed like a drain, as he entertained a packed house with his hysterical rants for over two and half hours. I'm not going to review his show, The Man with the Flaming Battenberg Tattoo, as there are enough reviews out there on the internet already.

All I will say is, if you get the chance to see him, then do. For those of you who have never heard of him or those of you wanting a bit more of him, have a look at the clips section of his website.

Gay theatre, Welsh nudism and a liberal Church in Wales...

Throughout today I have pondered on what to write for tonight's post. During my swim tonight I was unable to settle on anything and equally when trying to shape tonight's post over dinner, I failed. I've sat here and looked for inspiration online but no one thing seems to present itself. I am therefore going to brain dump a number of unconnected thoughts that have passed through my mind in the last 24 hrs:

My first job as an actor was with Gay Sweatshop; a London based, gay, political, theatre company. The play, Compromised Immunity played the Drill Hall before touring nationally. It introduced me to many friends and got me my Equity card. As such, I was interested to read this piece in the Guardian entitled, Q is for queer theatre, which paints an all too brief sketch of gay theatre and asks what next?

Carmarthenshire council seem at odds with themselves over nudism warnings on their beaches. With signs erected stating that nudism is not permitted and warning nudists that they may face prosecution, it's been pointed out that being naked in public is not illegal. Seemingly contradicting themselves, a spokesperson for the council said, "If genuine naturists turn up and aren't causing distress, life goes on". I think they're trying to ward off those nudists who are looking for more than a game of volleyball on the beach. Another spokesperson said, "It is something we are policing religiously and we won't tolerate it!" For those that can...



I knock the church and its leaders enough when they're being homophobic (lots of opportunities there) so it only seems right to praise the voices of reason within the church when they speak up. This week the Archbishop of Wales, Dr Barry Morgan has called on the Church in Wales to support gay people, adding, "Very often homosexuality is talked about as if real people were not involved, and gays and lesbians complain of being talked about rather than talked to in church". How refreshing.

My apologies for not tying these stories together in a seemless fashion with a common thread but my befuddled brain won't allow that today. I hope the nude volleyball video made up for my failings... ;-)

Camp as tits...

A friend of mine from my college days used to use the phrase, camp as tits to describe anything that he thought was really camp. I could never work out why female secondary sexual characteristics should be camp (unless some guy is wearing a false pair perhaps - which, I guess, is what he meant) but I like the phrase anyway.

Whilst most of us recognise it when we see it, defining camp is not easy. The Oxford English Dictionary gives it the following definition: ostentatious, exaggerated, affected, theatrical; effeminate or homosexual; pertaining to, characteristic of, homosexuals. In Susan Sontag's essay Notes on 'Camp', she emphasises artifice, frivolity, naïve middle-class pretentiousness and shocking excess as key elements of camp. In his book, Camp, Mark Booth defines it as "to present oneself as being committed to the marginal with a commitment greater than the marginal merits."

All of the following may be considered camp: Judy Garland, Bette Davis, Bette Midler, Carry On films, the films of John Waters, The Munsters, The Addams Family, Dynasty, Dallas, the 1960s TV series of Batman, Absolutely Fabulous, British panto, drag, retro fashion, the 1970s, musical theatre, John Inman, Dale Winton, Russell Harty, Kenneth Williams, The Eurovision Song Contest, Eurotrash, ABBA, Cilla Black, Liberace, Marlene Dietrich and, of course, Kylie Minogue. I'm sure you could come up with as many yourself in just a couple of minutes.

Search on any of the above in YouTube and you'll see enough examples of camp to make you a world wide authority on the subject. Alternatively, you might just want to watch this example I came across recently which does it for me...

Today's run at 17:17
Distance	4.07 km	Time	21:32
Pace	5:18 min/km	Cadence	83 spm

A pair of star crossed lovers...

Stories live on through their reinvention. It's the retelling of a tale for a changing and evolving culture that keeps the story relevant, ensuring it lives and breathes for a new audience. Stories that have a relevance for us live on and, for Western society, Romeo and Juliet, it seems, is one of those relevant stories.

We all know the tragic story of this pair of star crossed lovers but, had it not been for this tale being reinterpreted time and again for different cultures over the last 2,000 years or so, it might languish as a forgotten fable; of interest only to academics. Indeed, you might argue that we needed it to be interpreted because of the gap it fills; we may have no choice but to reinterpret this tale.

The story of Romeo and Juliet existed before Shakespeare got hold of it. He did not invent the story but, rather, reinvented it for Elizabethan society. Romeo and Juliet draws its narrative strands from a number of different sources stretching back to antiquity. In the form we recognise, it came together as an Italian novella by Matteo Bandello in 1554. It was then translated and reshaped by Arthur Brook into a narrative poem entitled, The Tragical History of Romeus and Juliet in 1562. William Painter then published the story as part of a prose collection of Italian tales, Palace of Pleasure in 1582. Some time between 1591 and 1595 Shakespeare got hold of it and turned it into a play.

Since then, Shakespeare's text has been staged countless times and each time it has been reinterpreted in some way to make it relevant to a particular audience. In addition to the stage productions there have been numerous celluloid versions throughout the 20th & 21st Centuries. These have been tailored for different audiences, speaking different languages, living under different circumstances and at different times over the past 100 years or so. Each version reaches out to it's audience in a different way.

Compare Franco Zeffirelli's 1968 film, Romeo and Juliet with Baz Luhrmann's 1996 film, William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet. Both are acclaimed productions but look and feel remarkably different. Zeffirelli's is set in Verona in Italy in the late 1500s whilst Luhrmann's is set in Verona Beach in 1996. One looks like an historically accurate version whilst the other looks very modern and updated. Make no mistake, both speak to the audiences of their day: 1968 and 1996.

One of the biggest successes of Luhrmann's is his casting and direction of Harold Perrineau as Mercutio. He's a difficult character to make relevant to a contemporary audience because of the mix that makes up his character: he has an edge of aggression but equally a romantic quality. He is hot headed and impulsive yet insightful and philosophical. He mixes poetic sweetness with the vulgar and the course. Take a look at Luhrmann's take on Mercutio's arrival at the Capulet's party - glorious!

The story of Romeo and Juliet has been retold through operas, ballets, jazz pieces, choral works, symphonies, pop songs and (most famously) musical theatre. Indeed, West Side Story is probably its most popular and original reinterpretation in recent times. The production is iconic, the choreography is breathtaking and the music instantly recognisable. Enjoy!

When you're dead, you'll regret not having fun with your genital organs...

In a flat at 25 Noel Road, Islington, London on the 9th August 1967, Joe Orton was murdered by Kenneth Halliwell, his partner of 16 years. He was 34 years old. Halliwell smashed Orton's skull in with a hammer and then took an overdose of twenty-two Nembutal washed down with the juice from a tin of grapefruit. Halliwell died first.

As I ran tonight, for some reason, I was thinking of Joe Orton. I think my mind was free-wheeling and somewhere I'd picked up Joe Orton as a passenger. He's a welcome and entertaining passenger is Mr Orton; he ensnares your mind by getting you to laugh and then getting you to question the things you've just laughed at. I thought about this dramatic technique as I ran; you don't see it employed that much nowadays.

I first became interested in Orton and his writing when I was in my late teens. He influenced my world view and I read anything associated with his name. His philosophy and outlook fascinated me. It was so irreverent, anti-establishment and deliciously wicked. His plays sprang directly from his experiences. He was an outsider; his class, his criminal record, his intelligence and his sexuality placed him (and kept him) outside - something he was boastfully proud of.

Looking in at society he was able to see the farce and sham that it actually was. His cruelly comic satires on the hypocrisy of this conservative British post war society and its values are a delight; savage and full of innuendo and contradiction. In all of his work Orton undermines society and the family and ridicules their values. In his plays there lies a seething sexuality and brooding violence but, above all, a wicked sense of fun. The same might be said about his life


The grade II listed Victorian toilets where Orton went cottaging in South End Green, Hampstead, North London were renovated with £50,000 of national lottery money at the turn of the millennium. The Sunday Times reported, "The prime purpose of the renovation grant is to preserve one of the last remaining Victorian lavatories left intact and still in service in London. However, both the council and the lottery fund agree that the Orton connection is an influential factor in securing the money." The British public were outraged. A fitting memorial for one of Britain's greatest wits and most provocative social commentators. Here's a wonderful clip from the film of Orton's stage play, Entertaining Mr Sloane starring the wonderful Beryl Reid on top form.

My run tonight was another zippy one for me: I ran with a pace of 5'25" over 4.02 km in 21'48" - despite nearly choking when I remembered this warning from Orton to live life to the full, "When you're dead, you'll regret not having fun with your genital organs."

A night at the opera...

I'm off to see the WNO's production of Mozart's Don Giovanni tonight. I'm quite looking forward to it. It's on at the WMC in the Bay. I've never seen this opera, despite having played Don Giovanni for the WNO back in 1984.


[Pauses, allowing his audience to digest this.]


In actual fact, I was a drama student in Cardiff at the time and the WNO wanted actors to walk the stage for their technicians to focus the lights etc. The world of opera was so far away from the world of theatre I was used to: in theatre actors were expected to turn up for technical rehearsals whilst opera stars paid actors to do it for them. My abiding memory is running around the the stage in a red shirt, twanging swords sticking out of the rock on the lip of a volcano whilst the director repeatedly bellowed, "Schnell!"

The director's name was Ruth Berghaus, married to Paul Dessau, friend and colleague of Bertolt Brecht and, at one time, director of the Berliner Ensemble. I was studying Epic Theatre and Brechtian techniques at the time, so, to be shouted at by this legend, I felt, was an honour.

The more she shouted, the more I smiled.

There is Nothing Like a Dame II...

As you've probably gathered from last night's post, I'm a bit of a Maggie Smith fan (show me a homosexual who doesn't like her). Why? Well, I think she's a first rate actress; on film, TV or on stage. I've only ever seen her on stage once, playing Lady Bracknell in Nicholas Hytner's 1993 production of The Importance of Being Earnest at the Aldwych. I don't remember much about Richard E Grant's Algernon nor Alex Jennings' Jack but I do remember Maggie Smith's stork like Lady Bracknell.

'The role of Lady Bracknell has always been haunted by the formidable ghost of Edith Evans, but at last another theatrical Dame has stolen the coveted crown and placed it firmly on her own head. Maggie Smith, with her handspan waist and sucked-lemon lips, is totally commanding.'

She's certainly an excellent comic actress who subtly brings to life that repressed English middle class female, half strangled by her own sense of decency. Witness her performance in Alan Bennett's A Private Function opposite Michael Palin. It is comic genius. Her aspirations, her apologies for her ageing mother (played by Liz Smith) and her ruthlessness to claw her way up the social ladder make for some wonderfully enjoyable scenes.

I've heard that she has an excellent and wicked sense of humour. As Desdemona to Olivier's Othello (which he also directed), he made the big error of criticising her for what he believed to be sloppy articulation. He advocated much rounder vowel sounds. Maggie took the point coldly and waited for the next performance. At interval, she popped her head round the door of Olivier’s dressing room, where he sat, blacked up as Othello and naked. All she said was, “How Now, Brown Cow?”

Another Maggie fix this weekend, I think, with more Downton episodes from the first series. I'll then catch up with the second series. Life's tough...