This third UK tour of “Spamalot” opened in September 2017 in Blackpool, and reaches Derby as part of its nationwide travels. It is a brand new production of the show by Selladoor. The Monty Python team dominated British television in the 1970’s, the film “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” was a huge success when it was first screened in 1975, a cinema success which was reprised with “The Life of Brian”. In 2005, “Spamalot”, a stage play based on “Monty Python and the Holy Grail”, opened to much acclaim on Broadway, a project masterminded by Eric idle himself, rather than the whole Python team. The television series was always a little hit and miss, a luxury unavailable to a stage show. I was fascinated to see how Idle’s creation would shape up.
I need not have worried. The spirit of Python is ever-present, but the production is a stand- alone piece, no previous experience is required. Director Daniel Buckroyd has not opted for a nostalgia show, instead neatly fusing classic comedy with the demands of a 21st century audience, driving proceedings on at a brisk pace. Sara Perk’s set is quirky, retro, stylised, kitsch and very effective, transforming Derby into Camelot. Ashley Nottingham’s choreography is delivered with brio and enthusiasm. Favourite elements endure, the dancing nuns, the coconut shell created horse, and the dismembered Black Knight amongst them. A contemporaneous script, name checking Piers Morgan and Simon Cowell, is fresh, and funny. The deliberations about the coconut carrying abilities of European and African swallows is laugh out loud stuff.
Sarah Harlington as the Lady of the Lake
The songs work. Inevitably, “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” receives more than one outing, including a sing-along end of show reprise, but Sarah Harlington’s diva strop in “Whatever Happened to my Part?” stood out for me, comic, accomplished and dramatic. Eric Idle wrote the musical’s book and lyrics and collaborated with John Du Prez on the music, except for “Finland”, which was written by Michael Palin for Monty Python’s Contractual Obligation Album; “Knights of the Round Table” and “Brave Sir Robin”, which were composed by Neil Innes for Monty Python and the Holy Grail; and “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life”, which was originally written by Idle for the film Monty Python’s “ Life of Brian”.
Derby does not often stage professional musicals. It was a pleasure to see the return of an orchestra pit, and four musicians playing live, led by Musical Director Brian McDermott. There is no substitute for the sound and dynamic, of musicians playing live supporting the cast, and the songs fell naturally into the narrative, rather than feeling awkwardly bolted on.
Bob Harms as Arthur
Bob Harms is terrific as King Arthur, his double act with coconut shell wielding faithful servant Patsy, played by Rhys Owen, a delight in a performance which echoed Tony Robinson’s Baldrick in Blackadder. Mathew Pennington squeezes every ounce of camp out of fey Prince Herbert, the damsel in distress. The gay Herbert, and macho Sir Lancelot, stereotypes have the potential to go horribly wrong for a modern audience, tastes and comedy has moved on in the past forty years, but they pull it off, culminating in an hilarious and entertaining song and dance number featuring silver lame hot pants which Kylie would kill to wear.
At the final curtain, the rousing reception from a very well attended first night was richly deserved for a cast who had given it their all. The show did not feel dated at all. Maybe that is because the comedy, although a feature of Python, was not quite as Pythonesque as appeared so at the time, instead it was just classic comedy, which always endures. At inception, some Pythonistas baulked at the idea of an Idle only creation, but it is that singularity of vision which is the show’s strength, there did not need to be an accommodation with the undoubted talents of other Python team members. I am very fond of the adage that a camel is a horse made by committee.
It is no surprise that this show enjoyed such success in the West End and on Broadway, enjoy a tremendous night’s entertainment, with the Knights, while it pitches camp in Derby – it runs until Sat 21st.
I have known Al Barz for several years, and seen him perform innumerable times. Live, he has a reputation for quirky, engaging, performance, an appearance is always an event. His first collection, Cacophony of Stardust, draws together established stage favourites, pieces from various anthologies, combined with several newer and unheard pieces. There are a lot of them, over 211 pages, made manageable in a series of chapters whose titles, such as “Pair of Dice Lost”, reflect the wry humour which is ever present.
There are short poems:
The Tench The only remarkable thing I can say that’s concerning the tench It doesn’t waste time writing poems of me while it sits on a bench.
There are wistful nature poems with an edge, skilfully exploring a multiple haiku form as demonstrated by the opening “Cultivation”. What struck me was how diverse this collection is. Al often performs accompanying himself on keyboards. His sci-fi interests can create an off-beat persona and subject matter. But here the depth of the man as poet unfolds, rich, subtle and with something to say.
We are offered rhyme, blank verse, form and freestyle, so there is something for everyone. It is fascinating to see how he matches subject and format. The “Health and Crappiness” chapter, which focusses on the author’s own experiences of cancer, is raw, vivid, and compelling. Unsentimental, and with a trademark dose of black humour, Al always reaches out beyond his own experience rather than looking inwards. The breadth of material is so great that this collection is several books worth in one. The overriding emotion I experienced upon completing this collection was of pleasure and relaxation, and as Seneca said:
‘The mind should be allowed some relaxation, that it may return to its work all the better for the rest’ – Seneca
Some collections can be hard work. This is not. There is something for everyone, not least plenty of smiles. At the end, I felt I had become far better acquainted with the poet. There is no artifice or pretension, no sense that he is trying to impress, just a sense of a poet whose voice deserves to be heard. I think that Al would like that.
Al responds to his publisher’s suggestion that he change a line on one of his poems…
Al himself co-designed the cover with Mathew Cash, Cacophony of Stardust is published by Burdizo Bards
If it wasn’t for Venetian blinds,
It would be Curtains for us all
There is always a temptation to view one’s youth through rose tinted spectacles. To be of a view that a time that was special to you, was special to everyone. Yet with live rock music, there really is a case that the late 1960’s and 1970’s were a golden era for live popular music. The tickets were cheap, accessible, and affordable. The venues were modest in size, the artists were easy to see and hear. I was able to secure a ticket for every artist I wanted to see. The audiences were young, mostly under 21 years of age with virtually no-one over 30. The live offering was staggering, surfing a wave of cultural freedom, peace, relative youth prosperity, the alchemy was right for many outstanding artists to surface.
In the same way that opera audiences were treated to the best of Verdi, Puccini, Strauss and Wagner in the late 19th/ early 20th Century, so 70’s audiences were treated to Pink Floyd premiering “Dark Side of the Moon”, the Stones “Sticky Fingers” and Led Zeppelin’s “4” as they were written.
I have seen several hundreds of live gigs, maybe thousands. Some brilliant, some lousy. What strikes me is that there is often a “moment” to see an artist live, and then that moment has gone. This feature is part of an occasional series in which I look back on some of the great gigs I had the pleasure of seeing, some great moments.
Lynyrd Skynyrd – Rainbow Theatre, London Jan 28th 1977
The Classic Line Up
New Musical Express, Melody Maker and Sounds dominated the UK music press in the 70’s, weekly publications for teenagers that covered the bands and music that the mainstream media were not interested in. All three were agreed, Lynyrd Skynyrd, an American blues rock and boogie band from the South, were hot, and they were coming to England. They had played England before in 1974, but had made no impact. Three years had clearly made a big difference and in 76 they had performed admirably as support to the Rolling Stones at Knebworth.
They had formed ten years previously, but it took “Sweet Home Alabama” from “Second Helping” to establish them, and the word was that they were the best live rock act touring. Formed in 1964, they had thirteen years of playing together behind them. Although new to the England limelight, they were no rookies, and were touring on the back of “One From the Road”, a live album which showcased their talents. I bought tickets without even having heard it, once I had, I could not believe my luck.
With the benefit of hindsight, they were a band on the cusp, of greatness, and tragedy. In 75, Artimus Pyle took over on drums, a dervish like presence with a rock steady ear. In early 76, the Honkettes, three female backing singers were added, together with Steve Gaines, re-establishing a three guitar attack. But the demons were surfacing with Collins and Rossington involved in car crashes which affected the bands touring schedule. The two London shows were able to showcase some “Street Survivors” material from their new album, and the new reinvigorated line-up.
Support was from “Clover”, a journeyman outfit, notable for being Elvis Costello’s uncredited backing band on his first album and for containing Huey Lewis, later of “The News” and “Power of Love”, John McFee later of the Doobie Bros, and Jeff Porcaro founding member of Toto. After a perfunctory support set, at 9.15pm the lights dimmed, and from our third row seats the band sauntered onstage.
I have an ambivalent relationship with American Rock, at its best (Springsteen, Neil Young – I know he is Canadian) it is imperious, at its worst ( Aerosmith, Kiss, Journey, Toto, Boston) it is preposterous and affected. But us Brits WANT to buy into authentic outlaw/cowboy/ rebel chic.
Ronnie Van Zandt
Ronnie Van Zandt seized the microphone stand as an opening batsman seizes his bat for the opening ball in a Test against the Australians. Barefoot, denim waistcoat, cowboy hat, he looked straight out of a scene from A Fist Full of Dollars or The Searchers. Then as the pounding pulse of “Workin’ for MCA” blasted out he laid into the vocals with the determination of a ranch hand holding his first bottle of whiskey after a month on the Drive.
Most rock concerts are a succession of songs, a few achieve symphony status, where a mood appears and takes hold which transcend the individual parts. This was the latter. The set list? “One More From the Road” without “Needles and Pins” and “Tuesday”, but with “That Smell “ and “Ain’t No Goodnight”. Ronnie barely spoke apart from a cursory “Good evening London” after the opener, and “what song is it you wannna hear?” for the final encore. Gaines was a visible beacon for the band, and “That Smell” smoked. Rossington and Collins traded lead parts with him without ego or favour.
“Okie” Steve Gaines
Highlights? The opening “MCA” setting a standard below which the night did not fall. “Travelling Man” soared and told a more complete story than “Freebird”. “Whiskey Rock a Roller” emerged as the band’s theme song and “T for Texas/ Call Me the Breeze” was where the triple guitars of Collins, Rossington and Gaines were showcased at their best. Yes, they finished with “Alabama” which chimed, chanted and roared. Yes, the final encore was “Freebird” which swooped, soared and immolated in a blazing final guitar duel.
It was one of those shows which left you with your ears ringing, your voice sore, your palms tingling, as you stumble out into the dark ,stillness of the night staggered at the heights which the evening scaled. And you wonder whether you will ever see a show better? A bitter sweet reflection as nine months later that incarnation of the band would be no more.
The eerily prescient cover of “Street Survivors”
I bought my copy of “Street Survivors” and felt uneasy at the image of the band half engulfed with flames. The album itself is not a classic, although “That Smell” as a song is. When I heard the news of the crash, that image immediately came to mind. Over the years they reformed in various incarnations with Ronnie’s doppelganger younger brother taking vocals. I never felt the need to see them again, as I would not be seeing “them” again. Some memories are best preserved, of a band of young men, enjoying the excesses of a rock n roll lifestyle, yet dedicated to the cause. Authors in “Freebird” and “Alabama”, of two of a very few rock songs which sit at Rock’s Top table. There will always be a sense of regret that they never had the opportunity to scale the heights which this line up achieved, but there again, who has?
Set list
Workin’ for MCA
I Ain’t the One
Saturday Night Special
Searching
Travelin’ Man
Simple Man
What’s Your Name?
That Smell
Whiskey Rock-a-Roller
Gimme Three Steps
I attended my first football game in 1968, Doncaster Rovers v Barnsley, as a nipper. I was instantly hooked, not simply on the game, but on the ground, on the atmosphere. What follows is a series of recollections of grounds that I frequently visited, and meant something, for a variety of reasons.
Portman Rd Ipswich
I visited Ipswich regularly from the early 1980’s, lived there in the late 80’s/early 90’s and had a season ticket. So far, in my “memories” series I have recounted in detail the Abbey Stadium, Kenilworth Rd and Elland Rd. They were all very distinctive grounds, for very different reasons. Portman Rd was remarkable – for being unremarkable.
It is amongst the most remote league clubs when it comes to the proximity of other football clubs. Cambridge is 55 miles away, to the east, Colchester 27 miles to the south, Norwich 45 miles to the north. There is not much competition when it comes to watching a decent level of football, London being the closest otherwise to guarantee top flight football, with West Ham the favourite destination for all travelling down to Liverpool St station. It is a rural, non -urban fan base, with a big hinterland.
The club was rightly renowned for the quality of is football, and its perseverance with managers. Sir Alf Ramsey, John Lyall and Bobby Robson all prospered here. The fans were knowledgeable and committed – but I would not describe them as noisy and partisan.
The big games were West Ham, Arsenal, Spurs and Chelsea, Liverpool and Man U, and Leeds, who for some reason always brought a big travelling support. Just once, the big game was Cambridge Utd, when they were challenging for promotion to the PL and won 2-1 with the biggest travelling league support they have ever taken, around 5000. It will be a long time before that happens again.
The home stand was the North Stand, a medium sized covered terrace divided into three pens with horizontal screening to prevent the throwing of missiles. I found it an odd place to watch the game from. I am not a fan of split home ends. The numbers, and volume, of home support is reduced, the sense of identity “this is OUR end” removed. The Barclay End at Norwich, and Spion Kop at Leicester (another oddity as it was also a double decker), were also split, I am sure there are others.
I always found the “Derby” games against Norwich strange affairs. The clubs are forty- five miles apart, the fans are drawn from different geographical areas, they are not going to work, to school to the pub, with opposition supporters. The rivalry always felt a bit contrived, the nastiness, nastiness for the sake of it. But with the other contenders being Colchester and Cambridge, you have to do what you can with a derby.
My favourite was the covered terrace at the other end, Churchman’s. There was rarely any singing, but it was solidly Ipswich, and the view was excellent.
On one side lay the new Pioneer Stand ( aka West Stand, Brittania, with two seated tiers and a paddock. The view from anywhere was tremendous. The current name “The East of England Co-op Stand” is amongst the most ridiculous nomenclatures ever. The approach is bizarre. After passing through the turnstiles there is a large training pitch in front of you. That sense of anticipation as you enter the bowels of a ground is completely lost, evaporating into an expansive park.
Opposite lay the Portman Rd stand, a conventional large seated stand with a terraced paddock below.
The ground was converted easily to all seater in the summer of 1990 without announcement or fuss, resulting in the away fans moving to the Upper Churchmans wing of the Portman stand. It was an unsatisfactory arrangement ,That corner offered poor views, but at the seating “firebreak” it was adjacent to amongst the most expensive home seats. The away fans had no-one to bait, the Suffolk gentry were not impressed by the behaviour of the great unwashed. The converted seating below has always been a bit of a mish mash too. Sometimes a family stand, the club didn’t like selling the lower tier tickets to home fans as they were bombarded from the away support above, but didn’t like selling the lower tier to away fans as segregation and control was difficult. The bolted on executive boxes were amongst the worst appointed I have ever been in.
When the North and Churchmans stands were redeveloped, the new seated capacity of 30,311 far outstripped the converted seated capacity of around 22,600, but the capacity of the ground has never really been tested. 37,000 at its peak in the early 1970’s, when they won the 1st Div they only averaged 22,863. In 1977, 26,672 was the highest average they had ever managed. By contrast, Norwich have built their average support much more solidly in the PL era.
The railway station is so close to the ground, barely five minutes away, the coach and fan parking so generous, that beyond the immediate environs of the ground, the town is largely untouched on matchdays. Ipswich does not catch big game fever. But the Station hotel immediately opposite the station, has always done a roaring trade for home games and is a bit of a favourite with away fans. Near the corner with Portman Rd the “Drum and Monkey” is the home fans favourite, not least because the away fans come close to enter their section of the Portman stand.
My three favourite memories?
Brian Clough’s final game as a manager, managing Forest on the last day of the season,8th May 1993. It was a glorious late spring day. Both Forest and Ipswich had a reputation for good football, and for punching above their weight in the league and Europe. As the teams came out, the whole stadium rose to give Clough a standing ovation, chanting his name. It was very moving, with the man himself physically shaking at the thunderous applause. We all knew he wasn’t an angel, that he had flaws, but perhaps that is what made him human, like us? I also like it when the home side is generous to the opposition- then beats them, as Ipswich did, 2-1.
On 3rd Sept 93 Ipswich were top of the champ table and hosting Swindon on a balmy late summer’s evening. Swindon were a run of the mill side, but with a world class player playing as sweeper, Glen Hoddle. Hoddle is one of the finest footballers England have ever produced, he is certainly amongst the best I have ever seen play. That night he was imperious. He ran the game. He had space. Ipswich did not close him down. He played a part in each one of Swindon’s four goals in their 4-1 win, creating opportunities and goals where none seemed to exist with majestic 50 yard passes. Although he did not score, he won the game, against a very good Ipswich side, and was rightly applauded off by the Ipswich fans at the end. He oozed class. He had time. He was head and shoulders above everyone else on the itch. The best 90 minutes from a footballer I have ever seen, anywhere.
In August 92 Liverpool were the visitors, always a big game at Portman Road. Ipswich had a decent side and up to 69 mins it was a good close game, 1-1, with Ipswich on top and looking to grab a winner. In the 70th minute,Jan Molby launched a pin point 40 yarder ( he didn’t like to run with the ball) for Dean Saunders to run onto in front of the Ipswich penalty area. Deano was lightning quick onto it. All looked lost. But from the far touchline teenage defender Phil Whelan was sprinting back even quicker. Rush was two steps into the penalty area ready to deliver the coup de grace when Whelan launched a sliding tackle from the side, Rush came down with the tackle, the ball cleanly taken, kicked by Whelan’s leg, went for a throw in, the Ipswich players raced to defend, the Liverpool players positioned themselves to attack, Deano had dusted himself down to receive a Liverpool throw in… but the ref was pointing to the penalty spot.
NEVER have I seen a worse penalty decision. There was bedlam. Ipswich are a quiet crowd. They are not vociferous. But they do care about their football. They went mad. I mean everyone went mad. Jan Molby placed the ball on the spot, apologised to all the protesting Ipswich players… and scored. Cue pandemonium. Pretty much everyone is trying to reach the pitch, including matronly ladies from the upper tier of the Pioneer.
Somehow, the stewards and police prevailed. Somehow the game restarted. Somehow the incandescent Ipswich players and staff regained some composure. The last twenty minutes were like the Alamo, as wave after wave of incensed Ipswich players surged forwards. The Liverpool players sensed the injustice, and although they tried to counter-attack, they couldn’t. It seemed as though the combined weight of Suffolk was pressing them back. Then, in the 90th minute, Chris Kiwomya equalised. Forget the quietness of a normal Ipswich crowd. It was the loudest, most passionate roar I ever heard at Portman Road, amongst the loudest anywhere. This was not about a goal This was not about an equaliser. This was not about not losing to the mighty Liverpool. This was about Justice. This was about the theatre that just occasionally takes over a game, with a closing line, at the final curtain that takes your breath away. It was such a moment.
Ipswich’s current mediocrity is a shame, they are still paying the price of flying too close to the sun in the Burley PL era. The redeveloped ground is fantastic. Amongst the best appointed in the professional leagues, but the curse of the twin tier redeveloped ends damns it. As happened when they did the same to the North and South Banks at Upton Park. The sound is more than halved, as is the togetherness. A ground that is a credit to the club, and will see them through many years to come, but whose feel is not a match for the classic two covered end terrace, and two side stands with terraced paddock configuration.
Elland Rd Leeds
My aunt lived in Headingley when I was a child, and I went to University at Leeds. As usual, I did not miss an opportunity to sample the local team, and in Leeds United, and Elland Rd, there was something undeniably special. As a small child my first game, and only my second game ever, was Leeds v Newcastle, 26th Dec 1968, attendance 48,000. Admission to the best seats was £1, we couldn’t afford that so stood on the Lowfields terrace for 5’6, 27.5p in today’s money. The Scratching Shed was still there, a brooding, ramshackle terrace, the size of the new South stand later to replace it, and with a wooden barrel roof which was acoustically outstanding. It was rammed with Geordies, I recall the atmosphere being overwhelming, and was treated to my first ever hearing of “The Blaydon races”. Elland Rd on a big match day was only matched by Stamford Bridge, Upton Park, Anfield, Villa Park, Old Trafford, Maine Road and the Victoria Ground, Stoke for a combination of scale, intensity, and, critically, occasion.
Don Revie built Leeds United, but polarised the Club. The trench battle of the FA Cup Final and replay established the team as scrappers as well artisans. Revie’s attention to detail and incremental gains mentality, thirty years ahead of its time, was seen by others as being cynical and unsporting, certainly when juxtaposed with the glamour of Busby’s European Cup Winners, the City Slickers of Chelsea, and the increasingly successful Shankly inspired Liverpool, Shanks’ manner endearing himself to a broader public in a way that Revie could not replicate.
Catching the “Super Leeds” side of the early Seventies was like watching Barcelona. Football on a different level.
Two photos from 1949 show the West Stand which was to burn down twice, the small scratching shed, and how big the Kop was.
Elland Road was a superb amphitheatre for the side. The home end which I quickly graduated to when I could go without my Dad, had historically been known as the Kop, as had many big ends of the era. But as the seventies unfolded it became clear that there was only one Kop, and that was at Liverpool, and it quickly became known as the Gelderd (Rd) End, now rebranded the Revie stand. A large, single tier, covered terrace, at the time it held around 17,000. Rough, tough, and partisan, only Celtic for the European Cup tie in April 1970, succeeded in infiltrating and holding it. This was in no small part due to the number of Scots who lived in Yorkshire, historically drawn by the work in the mines. Counter chants of “Celtic” / “Rangers” followed by a unified chant of “United” was a regular feature of home games. When the chant went up, post 1970, of “No-one takes the Gelderd End”, they meant it. Like the Liverpool Kop, the Leeds fans enjoyed a surge. I liked to stand just above the central concourse entrances. All you would hear is a rumble of feet, then your body would be hit like a pile driver (think 50 steps of terracing behind you, 11st average, around 4 tons of force) and you would be carried a dozens or so steps forward before the sheer weight of compressed bodies halted you.
Seated quadrants book ended the Gelderd End setting a fashion which would be replicated around the league.
The Main, East Stand was unusually all seated with no terraced paddock by the 1970’s. Opposite lay the Lowfields Rd side terrace and West stand. The seated stand, elevated above a fairly big terrace, offered fantastic views. But it was odd in that it did not extend the full length of the touchline on either side, nor did it cover the standing terracing.
When the Scratching Shed was redeveloped in 1974 as the South Stand, it initially was split between a seated upper stand and lower terrace, the latter of which held 4000. The away fans were then moved to the wing section of the Lowfields terrace. This conspired to create one of the most hostile environments for away fans anywhere. Hard core Leeds support would mass on the Lowfields terrace adjacent to the away pens, on the South Stand terracing, roared on by the Gelderd End and, unusually the seats in the West Stand who would always join in the singing. The away support was surrounded. Furthermore, when they arrived, and left, there was always the thousands who would mass at the Old Peacock pub car park which, pretty unhelpfully, was located immediately opposite the access to the away turnstiles.
Three games stand out. Leeds hate southerners. All London teams were given a torrid time, and on the morning of the visit of QPR,in the late 70’s Stan Bowles was on the front of the tabloids for playing away with a page three model as well as for Rangers. It was a gift, and pretty much every sexist chant you can imagine was trotted out, with the added bonus that Stan was taking corners so could hear everything at maximum volume. As he was taking one, the chant “Does your missus know your here?” erupted. He paused, shook his head, and put his fingers to his lips. Cue the whole ground laughing and cheering his every touch thereafter. Leeds fans admired class, and Stan
In their Div 2 promotion in the late 80’s season they played a dirty Swindon side, featuring Chris Kamara, who were determined to kick Leeds off the park. It was goalless, but the refs notebook was full of Swindon cautions when Kamara scythed down crowd favourite Johnny Hendrie clearly just outside the penalty area. The entire Leeds support, and team had had enough, the Gelderd End were scaling the fences, Hendrie was motionless. Kamara looked petrified as a lynch mob massed from four sides of the ground. Fortunately, the Ref had had enough too. With amazing quick thinking, firstly he awarded Leeds a penalty, even though the offence was outside of the box, drawing roars of United approval, then sent Kamara off with the tunnel conveniently very close by. Kamara sprinted off thanking his lucky stars for an escape route. Hendrie was then stretchered off, badly injured, but as the crowd chanted his name, he propped himself up on the stretcher, ordered the bearers to stop momentarily, then saluted the crowd, before collapsing onto the stretcher again in what was undoubtedly an Oscar winning move. Cue further hysteria from the Leeds support. Their goalkeeper didn’t even bother to try to save the shot, the rest of the game Swindon barely made a tackle as, when any Swindon player drew close to a Leeds player the baying for him to be sent off started. Leeds won 4-0.
In 1977 Leeds were home to Liverpool on a Saturday in which the Bunch of Stiffs New Wave Tour was playing Leeds Uni that night, a gig for which I had a ticket. It drew a crowd of 45,500, Leeds lost 2-1. The natives were not happy. The buses heading back to the city centre were overwhelmed so we decided to walk back which involved walking past the away exits on the Lowfields terrace. The Leeds mob surged towards the exiting Liverpool fans who looked , understandably, concerned. None more so than a waif like, bespectacled young man. “ Don’t hit him, that’s Elvis Costello” I shouted watching on. Sure enough, in a gesture of remarkable musical good taste, he was spared. “Thanks mate” he shouted, disappearing into the throng. It was a great gig that night, for which I continue to take considerable credit…
I still watch out for their results. The, relatively new, West Stand a monument to financial folly, broken dreams, bad management, and unfulfilled promise as the YRA wait to rise again.
Abbey Stadium, Cambridge
I will always have a soft spot for Cambridge United. My parents lived in Cambridge in the early 1970s, so that was where I watched my football. The 106 bus into town, then another bus to the football ground from outside Boots. The crowd milling around the bus stop was so different to the other Saturday afternoon shoppers. A pall of cigarette smoke, Woodbines and No6, hung under the shelter roof, as a mixture of the local youth and old boys in flat caps gathered for the journey. The bus dropped you off opposite the car park entrance on the Newmarket Road, the closer you approached the ground, the more the ribbon of pedestrians along the pavements swelled. The Club had invited local schools for open days. Mine was not one of them. As a precocious schoolboy I wrote to the Chairman, David Ruston, to complain. He replied by inviting my friends and I to be his guests at the next home game!
The home end was a strange affair. The turnstiles opened pitch side. To the right was the supporters club. It has always looked awkward, and non-league, but the fans like it and it is to the credit of the Club that it has been retained as a quirky characteristic of the ground. To the left lies the home terrace which has four names. Geographically it was the Newmarket Road End. Older supporters called it the Corona End after the eponymous depot. But to the young fans that populated the end closest to the entrance, it was ”The Abbey”. More recently some have called it the North Stand. Cambridge is divided between town and gown and the gown was nowhere to be seen back then. Nick Hornby had not discovered the club’s joy. But as young schoolboys, the place had an irresistible lure. As often happens in provincial towns and cities, the locals had their own unique take on youth fashion. On entering the league in 1970, the club had a strong skinhead following, as did Peterborough, with Richard Allen’s “Skinhead” book essential reading. But that quickly morphed into Suedeheads, with a smattering of Clockwork Orange devotees. Immediately behind the goal, boys to the front, lads to the back massed in teenage scowl. The walk to the ground across Coldham’s Common has always been an eyeopener for visiting fans, past grazing cows and horses. In the early days, when it was an open terrace, sometimes the local urchins would dig up assorted vegetables and lob, mortar style, carrots and celery, from the allotments, over the rear wall, onto the away fans behind. Cambridge was a backwater then, and as the club rose from modest rivalry with the likes of Colchester and Peterborough, so the arrival of the big boys in Divisions Three and Two marked the arrival of routine humiliations by away fans, with Chelsea and Millwall distinguishing themselves in this regard. Tellingly the only notoriety the United fans gained was at an FA Cup tie away to Hitchin. Amongst our gang was classmate Mark Saggers now of Talksport celebrity. He was an excellent all- round schoolboy sportsman, and a regular on the Newmarket Road End. To the right was the Habbin, a covered terrace which ran the length of one side, and which offered an excellent view of the game. The favoured spot for older supporters and dads with lads. The opposite end to the Abbey was the allotments end. A small uncovered terrace. Opposite the Habbin lay the main stand, which then only just made it to the half way line. What you have to remember is that in the 50 ‘s and 60s, Cambridge City, at the far better sited Milton Road, were regarded as the senior club. They treated the patchwork Abbey Stadium as a bit of a joke. The success of the club’s rise was down to good management, and some shrewd managerial appointments. In the 16 years from 1967, United only had three managers. Bill Leivers, Ron Atkinson and Jon Docherty. They all did brilliant jobs with some fine players passing through the club, from Ian Hutchinson, Brendan Batson, Andy Sinton, Steve Claridge to Dion Dublin, to name but a few.
The Abbey stadium was a bit haphazard, not expecting its league elevation. For a few seasons after joining the league it was still possible to walk all around the ground and switch ends at half time. Many did. Colchester became the new rivals, along with Peterborough. The songs were largely borrowed. “You’ll never walk alone” was a staple as it was at many grounds in the 70’s. Most of the lower division supporters borrowed songs from their more illustrious betters. “Bertie Mee said to Bill Shankly/ have you heard of the North Bank Highbury?/ Shanks said no I don’t think so/ But I’ve heard of the Abbey Boot Boys” was a favourite, even though, in retrospect, I now suspect that Bertie was unaware of the existence of United’s faithful. There was an undeniable community spirit there though. The local “Arbury” toughs, from the adjacent Arbury Council Estate thought they were the top dogs, the village lads from Histon and Bottisham thought different. For evening games all of our parents made us do our homework first, before we climbed on our bicycles, cycled to the ground, padlocked them and entered the ground at half time, when the gates were opened for free, and we had to ask those there what the score was. We did it because we thought they needed us. With gates around three to four thousand, they did. Today, with £50 not unusual for football tickets, football clubs no longer need, or deserve, that sort of support.
The curse of fencing blighted the Abbey stadium after a few years, as the thrill of league football met the routine violence that was endemic in football back then. The allotments end became the away end, access to transfers to the Main Stand was ended, the Habbin was sealed off, and football lost its innocence at the Abbey Stadium. A high perimeter fence in front of the vociferous section in the Newmarket Rd End obscured the view for about a half of the terracing behind, but, curiously, it didn’t extend the whole length of the stand, only about half of it. Very sportingly, none of the “Abbey Boot Boys” ever attempted the simple tactic of moving about twenty feet to one side to invade the pitch! It was a different story at the Allotments end though. The fencing was so high that only the last few steps at the back “enjoyed” (I use the term loosely) an unobstructed view. The best view for away fans was from the away corner of the Habbin which was split from the home fans terrace on the side by some hastily installed seating, a combination of height and angle giving a better perspective.
The most exciting game I ever saw at the Abbey was the last game of the season in 1974 versus Mansfield Town. It is probably still the most exciting game I have ever seen. If Cambridge won, they were promoted, if Mansfield won, they were promoted, if it was a draw, Newport or Aldershot could win a promotion slot at their expense. It was the ultimate one game shoot out. The gate of 10,542 still stands as a record for a league game. Mansfield took the lead, Utd equalised, Mansfield took the lead again, United equalised, and then late in the second half, United were given, and scored a penalty, courtesy of Bobby Ross, which won the game. The tension, excitement and post -match euphoria was unbelievable. Subsequently United gained a tidy reputation as cup giant killers knocking out Villa’s European Cup winning side and Coventry (both games I attended) amongst several memorable scalps.
British clubs have such a rich history, it is easy to take the present day for granted. But back in the 1960’s it was Cambridge City, with a ground that held in excess of 20,000, the largest non- league ground at the time, who looked likeliest to win league status.
Milton Road – home of Cambridge City
Yet United have a history of fans, physically building the ground, as well as financing it, in the 1960’s, and more recently helping to save the club. The Abbey Stadium has always been imperfect, half a main stand, half a home end, but somehow it has always been enough. The Habbin is a fine side terrace. The redeveloped Allotments End as a seated stand has a brilliant view, but tradition makes it the away end, therefore, in the lower divisions it is rarely full, so is a bit of a waste commercially, even though aesthetically it is a big plus. The Main Stand was extended, a good job was done, and the entire structure still has plenty of years left in it. The obvious improvement is to extend the Newmarket Road End. But tradition demands that it remains a terrace, and the extra 1000 capacity that doing so would offer, is rarely required.
It is approaching fifty years since the club was elected to the league at the expense of Bradford Park Avenue, another city where really, only one senior club will do. As a physical city it has changed beyond all recognition, the population has grown significantly, the city now has a strong vibrant commercial/ technological sector, it is far more affluent, it is no longer a sleepy backwater famed only for its University. But it still has yet to find its sporting potential. Cambridge University would traditionally open the cricket season on Parker’s Piece at Fenners against MCC, and touring Test sides would sometimes play warm up games there. But there is no purpose built cricket ground of county standard. With two rugby playing Public Schools and a fine University Rugby tradition, again with combined university sides sometime taking on touring rugby international sides, the city should be able to support a top flight rugby side, but it doesn’t. CRFC plays at the 1250 capacity Grantchester Rd in the third tier. Planning in the City is notoriously difficult, but you have a sense that a new 15,000 capacity stadium which served the university, Cambridge Rugby fc and Cambridge United could just elevate Cambridge United again, as well as sport in the city. Where they are now, a fourth tier club, with the occasional cup flurry, and temporary stay in the third tier, is about right.
I still keep an eye out for the “U’s” results.
Kenilworth Rd. Luton
As a young teenager living in Bedford in the 70’s, Luton Town’s Kenilworth Road was the closest, and most accessible football ground. Twenty minutes by train, forty minutes by road. My first game, with my dad, was sat in the Wing Stand for a game versus Fulham in 1973. I recall the crowd being around 12,000, there was no Fulham support whatsoever. Both teams were Div 2 mid table, Luton won 1-0. “Happy” Harry Haslam was the talented effervescent manager, comedian Eric Morecambe the celebrity Director. There was talk of a stadium move…
Incredibly, over forty years on, the ground is still recognisable. In front of the Wing Stand and Main Stand, there was a terraced paddock, where the Main Stand ended, the Maple Road terrace hugged the touchline. Now seated. To the left was the Oak rd Terrace, then the home end. Quite small, the terrace quite shallow, but fully covered and capable of generating a lot of noise. Opposite was the Bobbers Stand, so called as it used to be a covered terrace for which you paid a shilling, a “bob”, 5p, to get in, it had already been converted to seats, before being subsequently converted to “Executive Boxes” (don’t laugh).
To the right rose the large open terrace, the Kenilworth Road End, which then held around 8000. The view was fantastic, and it was the best place to view the game from- unless it rained.
Luton was a dump. The ground, located in Bury Park, was now in an area with a mainly first and second generation Asian population. They did not care for football, football fans did not care for them. The walk from the railway station was through narrow streets, across a large roundabout with overhead walkways, through a run down shopping centre, then up the Kenilworth Rd for visitors. The quick train times into London, some 20 minutes, meant that many in the area supported London clubs, Arsenal, Spurs, Chelsea and West Ham particularly pretty much proportionate to how long it took to get to the grounds on the tube from St Pancras station. “Knees Up Luton town”, appropriated from West Ham and the East End was a favourite. My next visit, in 74, could not have been a greater contrast. Luton were promoted and finished second that season, but M’Boro went up as Champions under Jack Charlton, and their visit at the end of March confirmed their Champions status. The ground was packed, the atmosphere crackled, and Boro had brought down around 4000, all in the Kenilworth Road end, they were an older crowd who all looked like either miners or shipyard workers. They probably were. Boro won 1-0 sealing the second division championship, and being with the Boro fans, and Jack Charlton their manager celebrating at the end was quite something. Upon leaving the ground with my Dad and brother two football life lessons came into focus. Firstly, the time spent in the ground had given the Luton fans time to mob up and launch a fusillade of missiles at us as we left the ground into the street. Secondly, in a football confrontation it is always best to be on the stronger side, as Boro charged, scattered and annihilated those who had sought to spoil their party. My brother was a Chelsea fan so I would often join him for home games at Stamford Bridge. Rail travel was quick and cheap. We had caught the home third round FA Cup game against Sheff Wed on the Saturday. In the Shed the chant of “If you’re all going to Luton clap your hands” was a favourite – and it seemed that everyone was. The following Saturday 23,096 crammed into the ground to see a 1-1 draw. What struck me was how young the Chelsea travelling support was, mostly 13 -20 years old. At 2.30pm, about a thousand of the five thousand or so Chelsea fans in the KRE stormed onto the pitch, and “took” the Oak Rd End, a feat they repeated with almost identical numbers the following August, this time in the Second Division, after both teams had been relegated. The perimeter fences went up immediately after.
The town had always been depressing, the ground now started to follow suit . Due to its good rail and road links and central position it was a favourite awayday for pretty much any visiting teams to wreck the town, which they did with clockwork regularity. As the team prospered on the pitch, so things deteriorated off it. In addition to the perimeter fences, the KRE and Oak Rd end were soon divided into three pens, such was the regularity of mass movement disturbances. But this had two unintended consequences that made matter worse. Firstly, it is very easy to be brave taunting the opposition when there is a caged eight foot high steel bar walkway with five foot firebreak dividing you from the opposition. Secondly, if a pen was heavily infiltrated there was no way out, with terrifying consequences. The nadir was the home game With West Ham when around two thousand West Ham fans infiltrated the Oak Rd End. For the Chelsea games, the Luton fans had been able to flee to the wings or onto the pitch, this time with the cages there was no escape.
The routine was familiar. Chelsea and West Ham always “took” the Oak Rd End, everyone else didn’t but just trashed the Town. Attendances plummeted , the core support deserted the Oak Rd End, with a new, very small band reappearing in the Maple Rd Corner, the away support safely caged in. My last game at Kenilworth Rd was the Millwall game in 1985. I worked in Upper George St in the town centre then, from lunchtime, mid-week, they started arriving. It was a cup game with no London fixtures of any note. The entire London hooligan population turned out for an evening jolly, irrespective of who they supported. Millwall FC had heard what was brewing and pleaded with Luton to make it all ticket, but Luton refused, they wanted the money from a pay on the gate fixture. The gate was just short of 18,000, Millwall’s following was around 9,000. The initial invasion was not aggressive, it was as a result of a massive crush as the 8000 capacity of the KRE was breached after the gates were demolished as officials tried to close them. The picture below shows how overcrowded that central pen was, I should know, I was in there somewhere.
That game soured my view of football, for a long while. Luton installed a primitive plastic pitch which was great for them, but bad for football. The away fan ban of almost five years adding to the surreal miasma which hung over the club at that time. I had grown up, and had a car so could get to Villa Park and Villa aways more easily. Leaving Luton, and Kenilworth Rd, behind became easy. The shame was that on the pitch they had some great players, the Futcher brothers, Ricky Hill, Brian Stein, Mitchell Thomas, Brian Horton, Paul Walsh, and in Haslam and Pleat some great managers. The subsequent mismanagement, failure to move ground, and piecemeal ground improvements, making the Oak Rd End the away end, only reinforced my detachment from a club that provided me with some great memories, great games, and fine footballers.
2024/25
Ashton Gate Bristol City 4/1/25
My first new ground of the year v Derby on a bleak, misty, bitterly cold winter’s day. the four box stands impressed, particularly the Lansdown west stand where i was sat. Even the lower tier is elevated giving excellent views.. Derby brought 3500 fans to a 27000 seater in a 22000 crowd. The ground was fine, the 1-0 defeat for Derby was not.
One of the unattractive aspects of growing older is that increasing numbers of people whom you know die. I was saddened today to learn of the death of a past Birmingham Poet Laureate, Joanna Skelt. I did not know her well, but we met on several occasions, during which she was free and generous with her time, and impressed with her intellect and poetic craft. She was one who eluded me for “Poetry Alight”, she was never available for when I had a slot, due to work and child care commitments.
The following obituary from The Guardian is an eloquent appreciation by her friend, Mandy Ross:
My friend Joanna Skelt, who has died of cancer aged 49, explored writing as an expression of conflict and identity. As Birmingham’s poet laureate in 2013-14, she found inspiration in the city’s diversity and restless energy.
She brought the electric excitement of the Blackpool illuminations to a live-poetry Christmas lights switch-on in Stirchley, ran writing workshops that linked schools from Freetown, Sierra Leone, with the city, and worked with musicians from Symphony Hall. In Connected Journeys, the title poem of her 2014 collection, she wrote of Birmingham:
The city a kaleidoscope, a daring embroidery Spread out like spokes, a web, itself a giant wheel each of us carrying Wrapped inside ourselves Our own threads and journeys Each of us an infinitesimal part Such that every wrong, tear or break is ours too Stitched into the very tapestry of us.
Born in Staffordshire, to Diana (nee Hankey) and Ralph Skelt, a science teacher, Jo spent her early childhood in Cornwall. They moved to Great Gransden, Cambridgeshire, for her father’s work and Jo went to Longsands college, St Neots (1979-84), then Cambridge College of Art and Technology (1984-86) before studying politics at Hull University.
After graduation in 1990 she returned to Cambridge to work as a project officer for the International Extension College, which supported educational initiatives in developing countries. In 1997 she travelled to Freetown to research peace education following the civil war there, for her MA thesis at University of Kent the same year.
She continued to work in this area, with projects in youth and community work, writing and training, both home and abroad. In 2003 she set up Arena for Change International, a small NGO to promote social participation as a means of preventing conflict.
In 2014 she completed the PhD on the social function of writing in postwar Sierra Leone that she undertook at Birmingham University, and two years later returned to its department of African studies and anthropology as a teaching fellow. She also wrote social studies and citizenships books for schools in countries including Jamaica, Ethopia, Ghana and Sierra Leone for Macmillan Education.
She was poet-in-residence in eight schools in Freetown and in Birmingham (2009-10). While in Sierra Leone, she also established a writers’ network and, as an amateur saxophonist, played jazz with local musicians.
A solo parent with a young daughter, Jo had a gift for gathering friends. She bought a caravan she named Dotty, for weekends out of the city and found community with the Unitarians.
Jo was treated for breast cancer in 2015. When it returned in November 2017, she began a blog, describing writing as a form of agency, “re-tessellating pain … into something which contains beauty (if only in broken shards)”.
Jo is survived by her daughter, her parents, and her brother.
Mal Dewhirst has been promoting “My ten favourite albums of all time”, along with Gary Carr and Jayne Stanton. Just ten was agonising. Favourite? But there are so many. How coud I leave out David Bowie’s “Ziggy Stardust” and “Low”, or Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run” or Dylan’s “Blood on the Tracks”, to name but a few. One a day? Can’t be bothered with that. No explanation? I’m a writer. But I liked the idea, so here goes:
Crosby Stills Nash & Young – Déjà vu
The first album I ever bought, and it still sounds fresh today. Four hugely talented musicians, peerless harmonies, great songs. Stephen Stills claims that it took 800 hours of recording time as each session was recorded independently by each musician. Stand out track? “Carry on.”
The Who – Quadrophenia
Most “concept” rock albums fail. This does not. It genuinely takes the listener on a rock operatic joyrney, easily eclipsing its more famous younger sibling “Tommy”. Stand out track? Love Reign O’er Me
Deaf School – Second Honeymoon
Every top ten needs an off- beat inclusion. This is mine. Deaf School were brilliant. Arty, clever, innovative, supremely talented, but thwarted by their rise coinciding with Punk, which swamped them. I saw then live, they were terrific. Band members Winstanley and Langer made a fortune producing the likes of Elvis Costello and Madness. Stand out track? “Get Set Ready Go”
Pink Floyd- Dark Side of the Moon
Amongst the first pop albums that deserved to be listened to as an entity. Everyone had a copy. No-one was quite sure what it all meant, but we all knew that we liked it. The 45m copies sold worldwide would more of less given every person in the UK a copy at that time- and it felt as though every person had bought it! Stand out track? “Us and Them”
Elvis Costello & The Attractions – This Year’s Model
Elvis was a Stiff. This was his second album, but the first with the Attractions, it bristles with short, sharp, catchy songs, and witty lyrics. Stand out track? “No Action”
Thin Lizzy – Live & Dangerous
One of the best ever live albums despite the fact that not all of it may have been live takes. But that does not matter. Not only does it capture the essence of a Lizzy show, it captures the essence of a live rock show. And may not have ben bettered as such. Stand out track? “Don’t Believe a Word”
Primal Scream- Screamadelica
A perfect acid house album cohesive, and always best listened to from start to finish, the band I have seen live the most times. Their syncretic approach to music can delight and irritate in equal measure, but here, the balance is just right Stand out track? Higher than the Sun
Suede – Dog Man Star
The last record with Bernard Butler’s guitar and song writing, this is a magnificent, textured album, dramatic, ambitious and lush. As a band they careered between indie, hip, commercial and pop. Stand out track? Asphalt World.
Duffy – Rockferry
Essentially a Duffy/ Bernard Butler collaboration, the latter produced and co wrote for the album. Languid, louche, and husky, Duffy breathes her way through the songs, oozing lament and hiraeth . Stand out track “Rockferry”
The Verve – Urban Hymns
Singer songwriter Richard Ashcroft is a self -confident, arrogant, twat. But when you have this much talent you can afford to be. His ambition of a collection of urban hymns is realised in one of the great albums of all time. Stand out track? Lucky Man.
Paul Francis is an inveterate, irrepressible, poet. His content and preferred topics are contemporary, his choice of form traditional. His poems are conversational in style, it is as though you are sitting down in a pub with him. “So Paul, what do you think of Trump/ Brexit?” And out pops a poem. The rhyme is deceptive, the invective sweetened, he skewers his targets with a smile.
Paul Francis
We are treated to twenty four poems covering three chapters, Trump, Brexit ,and Beyond, using the discipline of the likes of ballads, villanelles and sonnets. I am waiting for him to use a rondeaux redouble for a Macron poem. The politics is left of centre, but not slavishly so. His barbs claw under the flesh for their veritas, he eschews a soft target, a cheap shot. A friend used to declare; “There are two things I hate, firstly unjustified criticism, and secondly unjustified criticism which might be justified.” It is the latter which makes Paul’s work so effective and enjoyable, whatever your personal politics, whoever the target.
Brexiteer in Chief – Nigel Farage
From the first, Brexit, chapter “The Ballad of Jo Cox” struck me. Ballads are wonderful for telling a story, their insistent rhythm carrying the listener along, the easy rhyming couplets providing continuity.
“The campaign’s getting nasty, there’s poison in the air And some of it is lodging in the head of Thomas Mair God knows just what he’s thinking as he’s lying there in wait But she’s the perfect target, the love he has to hate”
These four lines illustrate his style so well, it is from the oral tradition. Abbreviation is fine, shorthand like “getting”, instead of becoming, work because this is a living story, not an epitaph in stone.
Mr Modesty – Donald Trump
In the second chapter, Paul attempts a first person address from Trump himself, and pulls it off with, “The President Speaks to the Nation”. A montage of sound bites, mercilessly assembled, some real, some fake, to create an authentic tableau of real and fake news. As I read the poem I heard Trump’s voice, not Paul’s.
The Beyond chapter is a catch- all for everything else, but no less interesting. In “Bonfire of the Certainties” lampoons the media’s lampooning of Corbyn, offering a rather welcome optimistic note for the future in the hands of the young.
At thirty- five pages, plus notes, this is a comfortable one session read. It is also probably best read in one chunk too. It is a mood piece. Paul puts the message first, the narrative presides over the form, you never have the feeling that the words are a slave to the form. This is no crepuscular dirge, it is quite cheerful and bright in its dissection of the great and not so good.
I want to do a feature on this forthcoming wonderful festival. Gregory Leadbetter was one of the star turns of Lichfield’s Poetry Alight in 2017, David Calcutt and Keith Chandler, who are appearing on July 2nd and May 22nd respectively, have similar promise for 2018. All three appear at this festival.
Mid Wales Arts
Inspired in Caersws FESTIVAL : Ysbrydoledig yng Nghaersws
WHAT? A poetry, music and art festival – co-hosted by Fair Acre Press with Mid Wales Arts
WHEN? 21 – 22 April 2018
WHERE? Mid Wales Arts, Maesmawr, Caersws, Newtown SY17 5SB It is, if coming from Newtown, on the right – directly off the A470 and just after you have crossed the railway line. Free plentiful parking.
WHY? Cathy Knapp set up Mid Wales Arts ten years ago. It is also the weekend of the death of John Ceiriog Hughes – whose desire for “simplicity of diction & emotional sincerity” has been the cornerstone for this festival’s programming
WHAT? Workshops, Performances (both in English and Welsh), Open Mike, and on the 20th April a Children’s workshop and performance at the local primary school
WHO? David Calcutt, Keith Chandler, Diane Drummond, Menna Elfyn, Marlis Jones, Gill Lambert, Gregory Leadbetter, Robert Minhinnick, Delma Thomas, Andrew Warren, Casia William and You
HOW? We are so grateful to the Arts Council Wales whose support through public funding has made this festival possible, allowed us to keep the ticket prices low while paying the workshop leaders and performers a fair wage
PROGRAMME
Saturday 21st April, 2018
15:00 – 17:00 (3 to 5 pm) Poetry Workshop with Gill Lambert £6
19:30 – 22:00 (7:30 to 10pm) Robert Minhinnick, Menna Elfyn, Diane Drummond and band £12
Sunday 22nd April, 2018
11:00 – 13:000 (11 am to 1pm) Poetry Workshop with Gregory Leadbetter £6
14:00 – 14:30 (2 to 2:30pm) CERDD A CHAN – A celebration of John ‘Ceiriog’ Hughes £3
15:00 – 17:00 (3 to 5pm)David Calcutt, Keith Chandler & Gregory £6
17:30 – 19:00 (5:30 to 7pm) OPEN MIKE – You £Free
ACCESSIBLE? Mid Wales Arts has been inspected and deemed fully accessible. However they are currently converting a barn where all the readings and open mike will take place. If all goes well with the building work – this will be wheelchair-accessible and will have hearing loop system installed in time for this festival but please do check if either of these are essential for your enjoyment by contacting Nadia at fairacrepress@gmail.com Thanks
PARKING? There will be free plentiful parking – including some Disabled Parking spaces
TRAIN? There is a train station in Caersws
WHAT SHOULD YOU BRING? Appropriate clothing for whatever April sends our way. Maybe a cushion for the chairs which are firm. There will be homemade food, hot and cold drinks, cakes, and alcohol-in-the-evening for sale – but bring what else you want.
A notebook, your poems, and we will provide the inspiration! Oh and some cash in case you want to buy any books! (though we can probably cope with cheques and cards)
One of Mid Wales Arts’ workshop and exhibition
WELCOME !! CROESO !!
Below you will find the details of our INSPIRED IN CAERSWS Festival
(pronounce Caersws – Cire-soos)
A festival of poetry, art & music – for english speakers with some welsh language
John ‘Ceiriog’ Hughes
There will be readings, live music, participatory workshops, art viewings, and plenty of time to share ideas. The festival will be held in the galleries and new barn conversion at Mid Wales Arts.
Refreshments will be on sale and there will be a couple of stalls, including a bookstall.
This festival builds on the local interest in the nineteenth-century poet and lyricist John ‘Ceiriog’ Hughes who was station master at Caersws for the last 19 years of his life. In 2017 local teenagers and adults worked with ceramicists at Mid Wales Arts to create a full-size clay sculpture of him as part of their Sculpteen programme. This sculpture will be unveiled during the weekend, forming another part of the festival’s permanent legacy, alongside live-to-digital podcast recordings of the performances
Local children attending Mid Wales Arts’ pottery club have made figures from Welsh legends, which will be exhibited at the festival.
A professional group art exhibition, by artists from the Borderlands Visual Arts Group, titled ‘Nexus’; and a sculpture trail will form the backdrop and inspiration to activities.
There will be an Open Mike (bilingual), a ‘Ceiriog’ event (Cymraeg), and the Saturday evening event (bilingual) will certainly be a highlight as it features T.S. Eliot shortlisted Robert Minhinnick, the wonderful Bloodaxe Welsh language Menna Elfyn, and the stunning, accompanied, voice of Diane Drummond.
If you go to The Mid Wales Arts Centre’s website they will help you find campsites and B&Bs, and local eateries – as you may well be interested in staying over and enjoying the local landscape. You will also see some of the amazing activities, exhibitions and events that Cathy has made happen in the past ten years. She has most definitely enriched my life and so many others… but bear with her.. she is in the middle of turning the big barn into a wonderful performance arena so she may be a little slow getting this information up for you x
THE PROGRAMME
Saturday 21st April, 2018
15:00 – 17:00 (3 to 5 pm) NEXUS – THE NUB OF IT Poetry Workshop with Gill Lambert
Suitable for all levels.
A workshop using the exhibition ‘Nexus’ as inspiration. You will be examining the connections between poetry and art.
Gill has run many workshops with various titles and with many groups in education and community settings. She will ‘warm you up’ with some examples of poems based on and inspired by a piece of visual art and then set you loose – calling you back, too soon I imagine, to make certain the workshopping doesn’t end here. The workshop will be a supportive and encouraging space in which to respond to the different examples of art that will be available to you. There will be time at the end of the workshop to read your work if you want to.
(in English)
£6 plus eventbrite charges. 20 spaces.
19:30 – 22:00 (7:30 to 10pm) DON’T JUST HEAR, LISTEN – Robert Minhinnick, Menna Elfyn, Diane Drummond and band
Robert Minhinnick
Menna Elfyn
Readings by T.S.Eliot shortlisted Robert Minhinnick, Welsh language Menna Elfyn who Robert has translated, and the extraordinary voice and presence of Diane Drummond – with friends.
Ian McMillan missed not just his own train stop when reading The Diary of the Last Man – Robert Minhinnick’s 2017 TS Eliot-shortlisted book, but several. I can understand that. I could hardly breathe reading his poetry – which is spare with its language but filled with imagery and profound truths.
He is one of Menna Elfyn’s regular translators too so we will have the privilege of hearing both poet and translator read some of Menna’s poetry as well as Menna herself read English translations.
Menna Elfyn is an award winning poet and playwright and the most translated and travelled of all Welsh poets . She has written plays for television and radio and is the author of over 20 books. She is the first woman to be made Professor of Poetry & Creative Writing at University of Wales, Trinity Saint David; and is Honorary President of Wales PEN Cymru. Again – a master of words and truths and images you will dive right into.
Diane Drummond
Diane Drummond has the most amazing voice, and a generosity in her performance that you will be able to relax into – but not for long – you may cry, you may dance, and if you are like me you will most certainly whoop!
Joined by fellow musicians Peter Ryan on bass guitar and Marc Estibero on acoustic guitar. All 3 are accomplished musicians, sharing a love of their own personal styles added to their favourite songs.
The band plays and sings contemporary jazz, blues, gospel, soul, folk and all in between.
Diane’s voice has been described as a fine smooth and velvet chocolate with her own added notes in between.
“Don’t just hear, listen” – their motto but one I have purloined, with their permission, for the title of this whole event
£12 full price plus eventbrite charges
£8 concessions plus eventbrite charges
Sunday 22nd April, 2018
11:00 – 13:000 (11 am to 1pm) ‘THE PATH OF THE SOUND THROUGH THE AIR’ (S.T. Coleridge) Poetry Workshop with Gregory Leadbetter
Gregory Leadbetter
What can the contemporary poet learn from Samuel Taylor Coleridge?
In this workshop, poet and Coleridge scholar Dr Gregory Leadbetter will introduce you to key elements of Coleridge’s practice and thought as a poet, bringing to life the rich insights of a major poet and enabling you to apply techniques and principles drawn from Coleridge in poems of your own.
I am very excited about this workshop – as I personally find it hard to connect with the great dead poets and know that Greg’s extensive knowledge and practiced University teaching will inspire.
Suitable for all levels.
(in English)
£6 plus eventbrite charges. 20 spaces.
14:00 – 14:30 (2 to 2:30pm) CERDD A CHAN – A celebration of John ‘Ceiriog’ Hughes
Marlis Jones, Delma Thomas, Andy Warren
Delma Thomas and Marlis Jones yn darllen rhai o hoff gerddi Ceriog i gyfeiliant Andy Warren ar y ffliwt.
‘Poems and Airs’ – Delma Thomas and Marlis Jones reading some of their favourites poems by Ceiriog accompanied by Andy Warren on the flute.
(Bilingual Cymraeg/English)
£3 plus eventbrite charges
15:00 – 17:00 (3 to 5pm) Poetry in the Afternoon – David Calcutt, Keith Chandler & Gregory Leadbetter
Three of my favourite poets will read from their recent works. If you don’t know their poetry yet – I hope that you too will be as taken by it as I am. Three very different poetic approaches and voices – but each in keeping with ‘Ceriog’s desire for “simplicity of diction and emotional sincerity”
David Calcutt and The last of the light is not the last of the light
Keith Chandler and The Goldsmith’s Apprentice
“A wonderful and generous book. The poems welcome you in and hold your attention with their deftness, attentiveness and joy-in-making.” – David Morley
Gregory Leadbetter and The Fetch
“A collection full of quiet intent, testifying to “the overwhelming importance of love.”’ – Jo Bell
£6 plus eventbrite charges
17:30 – 19:00 (5:30 to 7pm) OPEN MIKE – You
the main house at Mid Wales Arts
A sharing of poems that you have written, this weekend or before, or poems by other people that you love.
No need to book a place beforehand just let me know from 5:15pm on the day
I (Nadia Kingsley) will host and can’t wait to hear your “offerings”
Am hoping to hear how inspired you have been in Caersws 🙂
Free entry.
BIOGS IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER
David Calcutt
David Calcutt was born and lives in the West Midlands.
He has written many plays for both theatre and radio and published several novels and stories for children, as well as four pamphlets of poetry: Outlaws, Road Kill, Through the Woods, and The Old Man in the House of Bone.
The last of the light is not the last of the light (Fair Acre Press, 2018) is David Calcutt’s first full poetry collection. Not published until July 2nd, 2018 – it will be in print and available at this festival.
Keith Chandler
Keith Chandler moved to Bridgnorth from Norfolk seven years ago. Since being selected for Ten English Poets (Carcanet) in 1977, his poetry has been published in four collections: Kett’s Rebellion (Carcanet, 1982), A Passing Trade (OUP, 1991), A Different Kind of Smoke (Redbeck, 2001) and The English Civil War Part 2 (Peterloo Poets, 2009). A new collection, The Goldsmith’s Apprentice (Fair Acre Press), is published on April 28th, 2018 and is being launched at this festival.
After 40 years in East Anglia, where no one knows how to sing, Keith is looking forward to returning to Wales where his grandfather, James James, worked for over 40 years in the slate mines.
Diane Drummond
Diane Drummond is a “decorative” vocalist who provides diversity in the songs and sounds she delivers. Joined by fellow musicians Peter Ryan on bass guitar and Marc Estibero on acoustic guitar. All 3 are accomplished musicians, sharing a love of their own personal styles added to their favourite songs. The band performs in an engaging manner that entertains, dazzles and decisively wins over audiences. The band can be seen at commemorative events, corporate events, singing contemporary jazz, blues, gospel, soul, folk and all in between. Diane’s voice has been described as a fine smooth and velvet chocolate with her own added notes in between. They clearly share a love of music with an appreciation of the songwriters who’s songs they sensitively cover with their own decorative musical style.
Giancarlo Facchinetti is a musician & multi instrumentalist, home recordist, visual & sound artist; and more recently the podcast editor/ producer for Fair Acre Press. He has orchestrated & performed with an astrophysicist and two poets in a mobile planetarium dome in e-x-p-a-n-d-i-n-g: The History of the Universe in 45 Minutes. His artwork is in the Painting by Pixels exhibition in Qube gallery, Shropshire, throughout August 2018. He is in charge of sound at the festival and will be recording the readings and creating live-to-digital podcasts as a free long-term online legacy – thanks to the kind permissions of the poets and their publishers.
Marlis Jones
Marlis Jones was born and brought up in Bethesda, a quarrying village in Caernarfonshire. After following a Teachers’ Training course in Bangor Normal College, she taught at Llandudno. She moved to Mid Wales with her husband in 1971 where they had a sheep farm. She writes short stories and has two collections in Welsh published. Some of her English stories have been published in anthologies. She contributes regularly to Seren Hafren, the Welsh Local paper and is supportive all things Welsh in the locality. She was Administrative Druid of Eisteddfod Powys and is a member of The Powys Gorsedd of Bards.
Ganed a magwyd Marlis ym Methesda, un o bentrefi chwarel lechi Sir Gaernarfon. Wedi dilyn cwrs dysgu yng Ngholeg y Normal Bangor, bu’n athrawes yn Llandudno. Symudodd gyda’i gŵr i fferm ddefaid yn 1971. Mae’n ysgrifennu storiâu byrion a chanddi ddwy gyfrol wedi eu cyhoeddi gydag ambell un Saesneg wedi eu cynnwys mewn casgliadau. Mae’n cyfrannu’n fisol i Seren Hafren, y papur lleol Cymraeg ac yn gefnogol i bob gweithgaredd Cymreig yn yr ardal. Bu’n Dderwydd Gweinyddol Eisteddfod Powys ac mae’n aelod o Orsedd Beirdd Powys.
Nadia Kingsley is director/ editor of Fair Acre Press. She is currently project-managing her fourth Arts Council England-funded project “Painting by Pixels in which she is being mentored in disability and mental health training; and will be the workshop assistant to fellow visual artist Paul Kielty in workshops at Designs in Mind, Oswestry and Derwen College, Gobowen – as well as showing her artwork in a group exhibition at Qube gallery in August 2018. She is a poet. She has, in print, 2 poetry pamphlets with David Calcutt – Road Kill and Through the Woods; Lawn Lore in which she collaborated with grasses expert John Handley; and A Year in Herbs pamphlet with herbalist Jayne Palmer and twelve visual artists. She has collaborated with visual artist Sue Challis and the resulting poetry-art collaboration is shown at VAN gallery late March, 2018. She organised and M.C.ed a poetry and nature day at Merefest, 2017; and organised an afternoon of poetry and music at Mid Wales Arts in April 2017.
Cathy Knapp
Cathy Knapp: Maesmawr (the main house at MWAC) dates back to 1526 and was originally a Welsh longhouse that grew into a successful farm. Much of the original structure remains. In 1820 the imposing Georgian front was added.
Cathy Knapp saw that the spacious interior and grounds had potential for a gallery and sculpture park as well as a centre for learning and encouraging the arts. With a background in Arts Education she is keen to foster talent and promote interest in the arts. Her late husband the internationally renowned enamellist and sculptor Stefan Knapp left a unique collection of paintings and sculpture which are on display in the house and grounds. Her son Ivan Knapp also has a studio, with work on display. This area of Mid Wales, says Cathy, has fostered a wealth of artists, who have been able to find the space they need for their work and recognised the magical beauty of the area.
Mid Wales Arts is a not-for-profit company with charitable status and Mid Wales Arts attracts around 10,000 visitors each year. Current activities include: permanent collections, fine art gallery with a rotating programme promoting contemporary Welsh artists; Sculpture hall and trail; courses and workshops for adults and young people; after-school and holiday clubs; poetry open-mic evenings and music events. Art workshops include painting, pottery, enamelling, sculpture, blacksmithing.
Mid Wales Arts is run on a mainly voluntary basis by a dedicated co-operative team of artists and supporters.
Gill Lambert
Gill Lambert is a poet and teacher from Yorkshire and she has been published widely both online and in print. She won the 2016 Ilkley Literature Festival Open mic competition and runs the poetry night ‘Shaken in Sheeptown’ in Skipton. She is a creative writing facilitator , working with many different groups and in various settings. Gill’s debut pamphlet, ‘Uninvited Guests’ was published by Indigo Dreams in September 2017 and her first full collection will be published next year with Stairwell Books.
Gregory Leadbetter
Gregory Leadbetter is the author of two poetry collections: The Fetch (Nine Arches Press, 2016) and the pamphlet The Body in the Well (HappenStance Press, 2007). His poems have appeared in The Poetry Review, Poetry London, The North, Magma, The Rialto, on BBC Radio 4, And Other Poems, and in CAST: The Poetry Business Book of New Contemporary Poets(Smith/Doorstop, 2014), as well as other journals and anthologies. His book of literary criticism, Coleridge and the Daemonic Imagination (Palgrave Macmillan, 2011) won the University English Book Prize 2012, and he has published essays on Wordsworth, Keats, Charles Lamb, and Ted Hughes. He has written radio drama for the BBC, and was awarded a Hawthornden Fellowship in 2013. In 2016 he was Poet in Residence at Anne Hathaway’s Cottage for Stratford-upon-Avon Poetry Festival. He currently teaches at Birmingham City University, where he is Reader in Literature and Creative Writing. http://www.gregoryleadbetter.blogspot.co.uk
Robert Minhinnick’s ‘Diary of the Last Man’ (Carcanet) appeared in 2017 and was shortlisted for the TS Eliot prize, 2018. Seren publishes his novels, short stories and essays, including ‘Limestone Man’, ‘The Keys of Babylon’ and ‘Island of Lightning’. Carcanet published his ‘The Adulterer’s Tongue’, translations of six modern Welsh language poets, in 2003. He was editor of ‘Poetry Wales’ 1997 – 2008 and is an advisor to the charity, ’Sustainable Wales’ http://www.sustainablewales.org.uk He lives in Porthcawl and published ‘Fairground Music: the World of Porthcawl Funfair’ (Gomer) in 2010. He is collaborating with Park6 films on a film of ‘Diary of the Last Man’, to be screened in Hay, Stratford-on-Avon and Edge festivals this year.
Delma Thomas
Delma Thomas was born in Carmarthenshire South Wales, but moved at the age of four, over the river to Pembrokeshire. She was educated at Glandwr Primary School and Preseli High School. Then went to college in Swansea where she qualified as a teacher. She came to Montgomeryshire firstly to Clatter Primary School and then Caersws Primary School. After over twenty years in the classroom, she joined the Powys Welsh Peripatetic Team.
Having been interested in Welsh things over the years she works hard to keep the language alive and used in the area. She organizes Welsh language activities for Welsh speakers and Learners in the area. and also gives Welsh “taster” sessions to non Welsh speakers who are interested in the language.
Delma also works every month to get Seren Hafren the local Welsh Paper to the press and to the shelves of our shops. She is a member of the National Eisteddfod Gorsedd of Bards.
Ganed Delma yn Sir Gaerfyrddin, ond symudodd pan yn bedair oed i Sir Benfro. Mynychodd Ysgol Glandŵr ac Ysgol Uwchradd y Preseli, yna aeth i’r Coleg i Abertawe lle cymhwysodd yn athrawes. Daeth i Sir Drefaldwyn yn athrawes i Ysgol Clatter yn gyntaf ac yna ysgol Caersws. Wedi ugain mlynedd yn yr ystafell ddosbarth, daeth yn athrawes Bro.
Gyda’i diddordeb ym mhob peth Cymreig dros y blynyddoedd mae’n gweithio’n ddygn i gadw’r iaith yn fyw yn yr ardal. Mae’n trefnu gweithgareddau Cymreig i siaradwyr Cymraeg a Dysgwyr yn yr ardal, a hefyd yn rhoi sesiynau profi i’r di-gymraeg sydd â diddordeb yn yr iaith.
Mae’n gweithio’n ddyfal bob mis i ddod â Seren Hafren, y papur lleol Cymraeg i’r wasg ac i’r siopau. Mae’n aelod o Orsedd y Beirdd yn Genedlaethol a Gorsedd Beirdd Powys.
Andy Warren
Andy Warren is a potter and a musician. You will find his beautiful functional pottery in Mid Wales Arts. He runs pottery workshops there too. He collaborated with Marlis and Delma on a similar event last year and was so well received I have booked the three of them again
Casia Wiliam
Casia Wiliam yw Bardd Plant Cymru 2017–19. Mae cynllun Bardd Plant Cymru yn sicrhau fod plant ym mhob cwr o Gymru yn cael y cyfle i arbrofi â geiriau. Drwy weithdai, perfformiadau a gweithgareddau mae’r cynllun yn cyflwyno llenyddiaeth i blant mewn modd bywiog, deinamig a chyffrous. Mae Casia yn 29 oed a daw’n wreiddiol o Nefyn ym Mhen Llŷn, ond mae bellach yn byw yng Nghaerdydd. Mae wedi cyhoeddi nifer o lyfrau gwreiddiol i blant – Clywch Ni’n Rhuo Nawr!, Arthur yn Achub y Byd a Pedrig y Pysgodyn Pengaled (Carreg Gwalch) a Sgrech y Môr (Y Lolfa), ac wedi addasu dwy o nofelau Michael Morpurgo i’r Gymraeg, sef Ceffyl Rhyfel ac Y Llew Pilipala (Carreg Gwalch). Mae hi hefyd yn aelod o dîm Y Ffoaduriaid ar y gyfres radio Talwrn y Beirdd. Hi yw Swyddog Cyfryngau a Chyfathrebu Oxfam Cymru.
Casia Wiliam is the Welsh Children’s Laureate 2017–19. The Welsh Children’s Laureate scheme aims to ensure that children throughout Wales get the opportunity to play with words. Originally from Nefyn on the Llŷn Peninsula, Casia now lives in Cardiff with her family. She has published numerous original books for children – Clywch Ni’n Rhuo Nawr!, Arthur yn Achub y Byd, Pedrig y Pysgodyn Pengaled (Carreg Gwalch) and Sgrech y Môr (Y Lolfa), and has adapted two of Michael Morpurgo’s stories into Welsh, Ceffyl Rhyfel and Y Llew Pilipala (Carreg Gwalch). She is also a member of Y Ffoaduriaid, a team of poets on the popular radio series Talwrn y Beirdd. She is the Media and Communications Officer for Oxfam Cymru.
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First told as a novel, now retold for the stage, Khaled Hosseini’s 2003 book has sold 31.5m copies in 60 languages. It was adapted for film in 2007, this stage adaptation is by Mathew Spangler, first appearing in America in 2008, and Nottingham in the UK, in 2013. Its ambition is considerable, embracing themes of family ties in the Shakespearean tradition, whilst echoing the more modern stage variations on the theme realised by Willy Russells’ Blood Brothers.
Returning to the Rep after a successful West End run, a full house, notable for being both predominantly young and ethnically diverse, reflected the more affordable ticketing policy of the Rep, after the controversy of £100 tickets for the production in London. The Rep is a fabulous auditorium, with 825 steeply raked single tier seats ensuring there is not a bad view in the house. A simple set features wood strip flooring and vertical planks which double as skyscrapers in San Fransisco, and more modest accommodation in Kabul. An elaborate butterfly wing /kite screen, which descends from the ceiling, is particularly effective for scene and mood changes. On stage, Hanif Khan’s tabla-playing, sat on a mat, adds mood, musical pulse, and authenticity, augmented by Tibetan singing bowls and Schwirrbogen.
Raj Ghatak is the star of the show as main protagonist and narrator Amir. On one level this is a story about two young Afghan boys, kite runners, whose lives spectacularly diverge. On another, this is a love story, the love between a father and son, and about friendship, betrayal, guilt, atonement and redemption. Jo Ben Ayed is wonderful as Amir’s childhood friend and fellow kite runner Hassan, son of his father’s servant, and brother-like figure. He is an essential, downtrodden foil to Amir’s success story. Every tragedy needs its villain, Soroosh Lavasini is exquisitely leering sneering and vicious as street thug Assef. When in America, Amir remarks that there is no Afghan word for sociopath.
The Taleban, Russian Army, Sunni / Shia rivalry and American immigration service throw up various obstacles along the way, with modern Afghan history the backcloth to this human tragedy. Gary Pillai is outstanding as Amir’s father Baba. He is an imposing, traditional figure, with a selective interpretation of religious demands, and a moral frailty, revealed in the second act, which motivates his largesse to his servant. Amiera Darwish plays Amir’s wife Soraya, in the only principal female role, with a confident beauty. Early on, Amir remarks that he thought that John Wayne was Iranian, as he spoke in dubbed Farsi on his imported Westerns, a gentle, amusing aside. But theatre goers should be warned that there is a pivotal, but gruesome, male rape scene in which a young boy takes an unexpected backdoor delivery.
Inevitably a stage production cannot match the detail of the original book, nor the dramatic panoramic landscapes of film. But what this production does have in spades is energy and drive. The obvious Afghan/ American culture clash is understated, the visceral culture clash between Amir as Pashtun (Sunni) and Hassan as Hazara (Shi’a) dominates proceedings. In an era of British isolationism through Brexit, and an uncertain Trump led America, the Kite Runner is a beautiful, searing, modern human personal tragedy, uplifting and humorous, but unforgiving of the brutality of human shortcomings, universal in its outlook and appeal.
The narrated account of Amir’s family’s flight from Afghanistan, courtesy of a passage in an airless, empty fuel tanker, awash with vomit, excrement and urine, so bad that it induces some passengers to commit suicide, cannot fail to move. Touchingly, the delight on the faces of the audience, many of whom rose to their feet to applaud at the end, was mirrored by the delight of the actors who had given their all in a memorable production.
Runs until the 24th March and continues on tour.
Gary Longden
Garyswordz 