And Now, For a Bit of Off-Topic Political Ranting...

In light of the recent Isle of Wight proposal, that young women coming forward for the emergency contraceptive pill be offered birth control on a month-to-month basis, the blogosphere has been alight with ranting and raving against this outlandishly liberal proposal.  As an outlandish liberal myself, as well as a feminist who keeps the issue of reproductive rights near and dear to my little heart, I couldn't help brandishing my laptop and adding my unofficial two-cents to the debate.

Contraception isn't a "license to have sex" as the Conservatives would have you believe. Adolescents will have sex whether or not they have access to contraceptives- this is not a debatable point. Their surging hormones and peaked curiosity are all the "license" they need. Proper contraceptives will, however, help to ensure that the sex they are already having is safer. It will also hopefully make a dent in our staggering teen pregnancy rates. This is good common sense, yes, but it also makes good economic sense. Less teen pregnancies equal less teen mothers on state benefits and more productivity for the next generation. Who can honestly say that a lower benefit bill and higher worker productivity would be a bad thing, particularly in this economic climate?

The propaganda being pushed by the right is that contraceptive pills will be given out willy-nilly, without any medical advice or follow up, and as a substitute for practical sex education. The facts, however, are very different to this and are spelled out clearly in the Isle of Wight's initiative. There will be a follow up, and the pills will only be distributed on a month-to-month basis. This is yet another example of Tory fear-mongering and a reliance on the electoral base blindly believing whatever they're told without doing their own research.

Furthermore, the pill is widely considered to be medically safe with millions of young women being prescribed it each year. While there are a small percentage of girls for whom taking the pill would not be medically sound, the same could be said about all medications including over-the-counter formulations and herbal supplements. Some people will suffer severe allergies to aspirin, for example, but it is not prescribed only on doctor's advice. On a similar note, there are members of the public who have extreme reactions to latex. Are we going to argue that because there's a very slim chance of a girl going into anaphylactic shock due to condom use, that the sale of condoms should be prohibited?

Perhaps the bigger issue is that we have less of a problem with boys taking charge of their sexual health than with girls demanding control over their own bodies.

No one is saying that girls (or boys, for that matter!) as young as 13 should be having sex. Of course they shouldn't, but it does still happen and denying it would be naive. No one is saying that our sex education policies don't need a massive overhaul. They obviously do. No one is claiming that a wider and easier distribution of the pill is the answer to every underage sex problem. For example, the pill doesn't protect against STDs. Still, burying our heads in the sand and pretending the problem doesn't exist isn't the answer. Look where that approach as gotten us, with teen pregnancy rates the highest in Western Europe!

If parents are genuinely concerned about what their kids are up to, they should try asking them. If they feel they can't, or that their kids aren't being honest with them, then perhaps that's a problem which they should address independently of the state.

Rant officially over.

Review of 'The Maddening Rain'

'The Maddening Rain'

Written by Nicholas Pierpan

Directed by Matthew Dunster

Old Red Lion Theatre

31/08/2010 - 18/09/2010

*A darkly comedic look at the City’s final, pre-recession glory days.

Money is a game in Nicholas Pierpan’s new one man show ‘The Maddening Rain’, which tells the story of the economic crisis from the perspective of an unlikely ‘City boy’. Following its protagonist’s rise from disgruntled bank teller to financier on a £400,000 per year bonus, actor Felix Scott quips that the result of the recession was that ‘no one would lend us money to play with’. ‘It’s a big storm. It’s going to fuck things up for awhile. You’ve just got to ride it out and try to make some money while you do,’ are the sage words of his boss. Meanwhile, Felix Scott’s character does ride it out, he does make money, and in the process he readily betrays everyone in his path. The only distraction from accumulating wealth and status is an unlikely encounter with his teenage girlfriend, and what ensues as a result is the spark of his professional and personal ruin.

Felix Scott is engaging and likeable in his role, and he tackles head on the challenge of supporting the weight of the play squarely on his shoulders. Particularly in moments when he portrays his boss, Andy, he displays raw emotional intensity and vulnerability. Likewise, the tenderest moments come when his character is discussing feelings of isolation, and exploring the magnetic pull he feels to his former life and love. Humour is also well utilized, and Felix Scott has excellent timing where this is concerned.

The two main drawbacks for the production are its length and set design. With a runtime of just under 90 minutes, and without an interval, the piece struggles to maintain attention throughout. Although Nicholas Pierpan’s script is engaging, some consolidation would be appreciated in order to cut down on the duration. Secondly, Alison McDowall’s set is very appealing, but it does not serve Felix Scott well and is not practical for the Old Red Lion Theatre. The majority of the space is occupied with a replica of an office, which is accurate and useful in creating the environment, but which renders the large portion of the stage unusable. Felix Scott is left with only a very small amount of bare stage to play. Further complicating this problem is Matthew Dunster’s direction, which finds his actor standing centre stage for the bulk of the time, with his hands firmly in his pockets, while an unused set looms behind him. A set which is more interactive would add variation and visual interest and would allow Felix Scott an opportunity to explore more emotional levels. More importantly, it would give the piece some greatly needed variation.



As a side note, Nicholas Pierpan’s ending to ‘A Maddening Rain’ is well constructed and interesting, but it doesn’t fit with the progression of the rest of the text. The conclusion of the play, although well acted, left more questions than answers. Ultimately, this is a well acted piece with promise, and a few minor changes would go a long way towards improving it further.

Playing August 31st through September 18th at the Old Red Lion Theatre, London.  Review written by Megan Hunter for Fringe Review: http://www.fringereview.co.uk/.  3 Stars.

Homesick

Close your eyes tightly. Now think of ‘home’. Chances are that one distinct image rushes to your mind. For me, the idea of ‘home’ will forever be torn between two very different places. There is 'the home that chose me', and then there is 'the home that I chose'.


It’s strange how our memories consolidate with time. When I think of my grandmother, I think of her perfectly manicured, blood red fingernails. I think of picking strawberries that matched those nails, in her garden, on a warm summers’ evening. I remember her sundress rippling in the breeze as I clutched tightly to her steadying hand.


My memories of my childhood and of 'the home that chose me' are of waves on a clear blue lake, endless expanses of prairie that melt into the skyline, the shrill cries of tornado sirens, and my father’s classic toy car collection. I can still taste my mother’s pancakes and apple cider, can still hear the sound of my fingers descending on the keys of my piano, and can still feel that first, perfect kiss with the first, perfect boy I ever loved. I will always remember the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair as I sped down the highway in my blue Honda Accord (the one with the ‘Free Tibet’ bumper sticker that garnered more than a few curious looks).


My memories of 'the home that I chose' are no less precise. They include taxicab headlights glistening through the rain at Astor Place, Bryant Park covered by a blanket of fresh snow, Grand Central Station brimming with tension at rush hour, and the massive foyer in our apartment with its smooth wooden floors. I can still taste my favourite Venti-Earl Grey-Soy-Tea Misto with two unrefined cane sugars, can still hear the sound of fireworks over the East River on the Fourth of July, and can still feel that first, perfect kiss with the perfect man I married. I will always remember the feeling of sinking into our beige, down-filled sofa with geometrically patterned pillows (the one that cost well over a month’s salary and took even longer to pay off).

Seriously. . . I loved that sofa.

So why the sudden burst of nostalgia? A few weeks ago, I was speaking with a work colleague about New York. Unable to contain my excitement that he would soon be visiting 'the home that I chose', I stuttered inarticulately ‘you should really, really go to . . . uh . . . um... oh god, what was it called? It was on 6th… or was it 16th…?’ Disastrous, just 100%.

I never did remember either the name or the location of my mystery suggestion. Thinking back, I’m not even sure what I was trying to recommend. Was it a restaurant, perhaps, or a vintage clothing store? The fact is, I will never know at this rate. It's gone. Details that only 18 months ago were as real to me as my shoe size have now, inexplicably, disappeared from my mind. Memories from my childhood are even vaguer. They come in brief streaks of colour, sporadic flashes of true sensory overload. I remember my grandmother's nails, but not the sound of her voice. I am losing myself somehow, losing my history, and it completely terrifies me. I feel like an intruder in someone else's life, with a past that I can recite the details of but which I cannot personally recall.

For the first time in recent memory, I am desperately, nauseatingly homesick. Or at least I would be, if I could remember 'home' at all.  So I must try harder.  I must close my eyes more regularly and think of my 'homes'.

The London Theatre Talks 2010

The London Theatre Talks 2010: 'Banks are More Important to Society than Theatre'
London – The Phoenix Artist Club – 24 Aug – 19:00 (0:40)


As a stimulating addition to the London Fringe Festival, the historic Phoenix Artist Club in Soho hosted ‘The London Theatre Talks 2010’.


The talks were a series of panel discussions which featured prominent cultural experts in conversation about issues currently affecting the arts. On Tuesday, August 24th, the topic was: ‘Banks are More Important to Society than Theatre’.


The panel consisted of Nina Caplan, journalist and former Arts Editor of ‘Time Out‘, Shaun Hutchinson, the Editor of ‘New Black Magazine‘, and journalist and actor Ben Holland, who also used to work in the City. The talks were chaired by critic, journalist, and regular chair of the ‘Platform Talks’ at the National Theatre, Aleks Sierz.


In discussing the connection between theatres and banks, the panel paid particular attention to new theatrical works which dealt with the subject of corporate and economic corruption. Lucy Prebbles’ ‘Enron’ was a major point of discussion. Other topics focused on why theatre remains popular, what it should aim to achieve to be classed as successful, which of the two (theatre or banks) had brought society more honour throughout the course of history, and how the current economic crisis would impact the way that each does business going forward.


Thankfully, none of the panellists were biased in their responses and all were, as expected, articulate and well informed. In considering the talk prior to attending, I had feared that the ‘debate’ would in fact be a funding rally in response to the recent governmental cutbacks to the arts. While I obviously disagree with the arts-focused budget cuts, I was interested in hearing a balanced argument for both sides and was pleasantly surprised to find just that. The responses were well rounded and provided interesting insight into how we measure ‘success’ and ‘value’ in modern Britain.


As Shaun Hutchinson said, we go to the theatre to be inspired, entertained, to learn, and to seek answers about ourselves. Nina Caplan added that since the beginning of the financial crisis, the theatre has attempted to provide answers to the questions of what went wrong and why, while the banks have remained largely silent and insular. Likewise, Ben Holland pointed out that the visual medium of the theatre has provided an entertaining way for the general public to gain some understanding of a particularly complicated issue which is considered to be dull and dry. In this way, people have flocked to productions like ’Enron’ for answers, even when they are not specifically related to the topic of the global recession.


However, we have also constructed a society which is wholly reliant upon finance. Major financial institutions regularly back commercial theatrical productions, primarily on the West End, and because of this the relationship between the banks and theatres is incestuous. Still, one of the main differences between the two is their attitude towards profit. While banks are concerned only with their bottom lines, much of the theatre is actually loss-making. As funding cuts continue and with banks less likely to lend financial support to riskier artistic endeavours, the area of the theatre predicted by the panel to suffer the most was the Fringe. The conclusion of an interesting evening was that both financial institutions and artistic outlets are necessary in society. While I agree with that assertion, I know which of the two I prefer.


Panellists: Nina Caplan, Ben Holland, Shaun Hutchinson
Chair: Aleks Sierz
The London Theatre Talks 2010 were held August 24th and 25th at the Phoenix Artists Club in Soho. Review written by Megan Hunter for Fringe Report: http://www.fringereport.wordpress.com/. (c) Megan Hunter 2010

Creekside Artists at the Fringe

Creekside Artists at the Fringe
Seven Dials Club – 2 Aug to 18 Sept – 26 Aug – 11:00 – 21:00

The exhibition consists of 45 pieces by 14 separate artists. The works displayed are in three interconnecting rooms, on the walls surrounding the Seven Dials Club in Soho. Mediums range from oil on canvas, digital illustration and prints, charcoal and ink on paper, and spray paint on canvas among others. Throughout the dates of the exhibition, the Creekside Artists have teamed up with local musicians and poets, and have even featured a life-drawing event during the showings in order to create a multi-faceted artistic experience.

Necole Schmitz’s ‘Madonna of the Sorrows’ is 54 x 74 cm oil on paper. It is an inventive re-imagining of Renaissance paintings portraying the Virgin and infant Christ. In Necole Scmitz’s piece, a haggard and broken woman with sorrowful eyes clutches an expressionless child to her breast. In contrast to the perpetually glowing images of youth and beauty usually seen in this context, ‘Madonna of the Sorrows’ invokes feelings of pain and uncertainty.

Emma Louise Fenton’s ‘Not Again’ and ‘The Morale of the Story’ show brief insights to lives of modern, city-dwelling children. Both pieces have been created using digital illustration and are 156 x 110 cm. In ‘Not Again’, a small boy sits in his bedroom, surrounded by numerous forgotten gadgets, engrossed in a book while his mother scolds him from the doorway. In ‘The Morale of the Story’, the same boy stands amidst the technological clutter, his arms and legs sprouting branches as he morphs into a tree. By the window, an abandoned telescope focuses on the world outside, a bleak and grey urban landscape. They imply an increasing isolation from nature as we simultaneously yearn for it.

Paul Coombs’ ‘Why the Long Mask?’ is 30 x 24cm acrylic on canvas. It shows the dark visage of an unknown man covered in a white mask. The piece is both fascinating and very disturbing. It has the feel of a cold and degenerate sexuality together with mysteriousness, and is deeply unnerving.

Brenda Brown’s ‘Jazz’ is a colour burst of vitality against a dark backdrop. At 40 x 44 inches and in oil on canvas, red and vibrant yellow pop as the texture creates an interesting focal point. There is the impression of motion and sound together with a subtle hint of the curvature of a saxophone.

Victoria Trinder’s ‘By a Hairs Breadth’ and ‘JP’ are round, 120cm diameter creations in oil on board. They are gorgeous, fantasy like glimpses into a brightly vivid dream. Exotic flowers blend with a myriad of colours to create a stunning and wistful experience.
All of the art featured is the work of members of the Creekside Artists, a not-for-profit co-operative based in Deptford, which provides affordable studio space and a unique, creative community for artists working in all disciplines. The Creekside Artists hold Open Studio events three times each year, in June, September, and December.

Artists: Brenda Brown, Paul Coombs, Emma Louise Fenton, Alex Glen, Rachel Hale, Siobhan Keane, Henrietta Loades-Carter, Daryl Mohammed, Sofie Pinkett, Dave Ravenswood, Mat Rochford, Necole Schmitz, Victoria Trinder, Caz Underwood.

Showing at the Seven Dials Club 1 August through 18 September 2010. Written by Megan Hunter for Fringe Report: http://www.fringereport.wordpress.com/. (C) Megan Hunter 2010

Review of 'He's Not Black'

'He's Not Black'
Written and Directed by: Chima Nsoedo
London Festival Fringe
The White Bear Theatre Club, Kennington
23/08/2010 & 29/08/2010


London Festival Fringe – The White Bear Theatre Club – 23 & 29 Aug – 19:30 (1:45)


It’s New Years Eve 2008, Barack Obama is about to be sworn in as the first black president of the United States, and four friends are out celebrating the holiday in style at a local night club. For Jeremy (James Hamilton), a notorious drug dealer, it’s a chance for one more night of freedom. In forty-eight hours, he will stand trial for possession of drugs with intent to sell, after having been handed in to the police by his best friend Leon (Wayne Joseph). It’s also Jeremy’s opportunity to keep an eye on Leon’s movements. Leon owes Jeremy a favour for his role in a previous crime, and Jeremy has convinced him to lie under oath on his behalf. For Jennifer (Catherine Ashton) and Olivia (Teraiś Latore), wealth management advisors from the City, it’s a chance to drown their sorrows on the brink of financial and professional disaster. As the evening wears on and the drugs and alcohol flow freely, the group discuss the effect that their race, gender, and class have had on their lives. If a black man can become President of the United States, reasons Leon, then anything is possible. ‘He’s not even black’, muse the others in turn, sparking a debate on what it is that defines race in modern Britain.


Set and costume design are appropriate for the piece. Olivia’s red mini dress, gold shoes and belt, together with Jennifer’s black jumpsuit and accessories lend to the party atmosphere, as does the addition of the roped-off VIP area. However, sound design detracts from the action.
Although ‘He’s Not Black’ is set in a night club, it is not necessary for dance music to be played continuously as a reinforcement of this setting. Instead, it makes it difficult to concentrate on the script. Likewise, the sound is used too often to stress the mood, when the acting and script should be sufficient. Employing the use of fade in and out would have been better.


The cast of ‘He’s Not Black’ work well together as a company and are fully committed to their roles. Wayne Joseph, in particular, turns in an emotional performance which captures well his character’s inner turmoil. But the script and direction by Chima Nsoedo need more work. At an hour and forty-five minutes in length without an interval, the play is too long with repetitive themes, and it fails to hold attention until the end. Although a great deal is being said about race, the majority of it is clichéd without new insight. There’s a mixed race woman struggling with her identity, a black woman trying to find her place in a predominantly white industry, a black man dealing drugs because he can’t find a better way to get himself out of poverty, and a young black man trying to better his situation at any cost. These are familiar character types, and despite numerous plot twists and turns, their actions are highly predictable. The characters presented are also not written as sympathetic, and because of this it’s difficult to maintain interest in their predicaments.


Additionally, some of the humour borders on offensive and ‘He’s Not Black’ is therefore not recommended for the faint of heart. Jeremy states, at one point, that when he ‘fu*ks white women, he gives it to them hard to get back at them for slavery’. Lines like this are uncomfortable, but if they are necessary within the greater framework and message of the play, they can be justified. As written, they seem to serve no purpose other than shock value.


Cast Credits: Catherine Ashton – Jennifer. James Hamilton – Jeremy. Wayne Joseph – Leon. Teraiś Latore – Olivia.


Company Credits: Writer/ Director/ Producer – Chima Nsoedo. Production Designer – Laurence Webb. Lighting/ Stage Management – Ross Pomfret. Sound Engineer – Daniel Vieco. Producer – James Hamilton. Producer/ Assistant Director – Fiona Bines. Assistant Director – Diana Mumbi.


Playing August 23rd and 29th at the White Bear Theatre Club in Kennington. Review written by Megan Hunter for Fringe Report: http://www.fringereport.wordpress.com/. Reviewed on August 23rd, 2010. (c) Megan Hunter 2010.

In Praise of New York

Honoré de Balzac, the 19th century French novelist and playwright, once wrote that art was ‘nature concentrated.’ Van Gogh promised that a love of nature was the only ‘true way to understand art.’ And Rembrandt famously recommended that nature should be our only master.

I spent seven wonderful years living in New York, the foremost altar to humankind’s ability to create. The city’s sharp lines and hard edges speak to something in stark contrast to Rembrandt’s ‘master’; it is the ultimate example of the civilized industrial spirit. My time there was also some of my most defining, at once inspiring and overwhelming, and each moment spent surrounded by concrete was a reminder of how incredibly lucky I was to be living in the place of my childhood fantasies. It is also impossible to escape the infectious buzz of Manhattan once you have been immersed in it. Even now, after a year spent away, I can sometimes feel its energy coursing through me, and there are nights when I wake up with a gasp after a particularly vivid dream and sit awake in the cool darkness of our bedroom, longing for home.


In the final days before my departure, I ran frantically through the streets taking hurried pictures of my city. After my time at work had wrapped up and there was nothing remaining in our apartment except for a few bulging suitcases, the only thing left for me to do was say my goodbyes. With my camera in one hand and a scribbled piece of notebook paper in the other, I retraced my steps: from my first tentative days spent in student accommodation (a grand old hotel in the heart of midtown), to the site of my wedding (a grand old penthouse in the heart of Wall Street), I rushed to capture each memory feeling that if I did not preserve it for myself, it may disappear. By making a project out of something that should have been cathartic, I was distancing myself from the overwhelming sense of loss that was settling in. And looking back at these photographs now, I realise that they capture my mood upon leaving, but little else. New York looks cold, angular, and grey. These are architectural shots, a documentary of my movements through time, but they feel impersonal and distant. In my memory, it was nothing like this; there it was, and always will be, in Technicolor.

As I begin to settle into my new life in London, a fascination has gripped me and for the first time in my adult life I am able to fully appreciate de Balzac’s sentiment. There is individuality to Greenwich Village, but the rush of the city pales in comparison to the perfect solitude of a well manicured garden. London, to its credit, is an undeniably green city, placing an extraordinary amount of importance on the seamless blend of urban and nature. Within walking distance of our central London flat are no fewer than 3 parks, 2 public gardens, and a forest. Streets here are leafy in a way that makes ‘A Tree Grows in Brooklyn’ seem like a delightful afterthought.
Rembrandt and Van Gogh were obviously masters of the canvas. And with one look at their subject matter, it’s easy to see why they were so fascinated by it. These glimpses of nature are, perhaps, more subtle and fragile in their power than a towering art-deco facade but their appeal is also, arguably, more timeless and universal.

If the time ever comes when I leave London, I hope that it will be just as bitter sweet for me as it was leaving New York. This is our home now, at least for the moment, and while it may not yet have the memories, it certainly has the Technicolor.

Text and photographs by Megan Hunter for Fringe Report: http://www.fringereport.wordpress.com/. (c) Megan Hunter 2010

Book Review- 'One Day' by David Nicholls

‘Have you read it yet? You have to read it!’


My friends and co-workers had been pestering me to no end. Apparently ‘One Day’ was the book of the summer, and it certainly seemed that way. Glowing reviews of it were published on billboards and in tube stations, with accolades from Nick Hornby, Tony Parsons, and ‘The Guardian’. Twenty-something commuters clutched it to their chests like a sort of manifesto, engrossed and oblivious to everything else. So I stalled.


There’s a part of my nature which abhors mass popular culture. It’s a remnant from my petulant teen years that I still struggle to shake. I haven’t listened to the radio for the better part of a decade. I’ve never owned a ‘Girls Aloud’ album, and the minute my favourite band sells out the O2 I know it’s all over for me. I’ve never read ‘The Da Vinci Code’, ‘The Secret’, or any of the ‘Harry Potter’ books. I don’t watch ‘East Enders’.


Now, I’m not particularly proud of myself, as I’m sure that I’m missing out on lots of enjoyable, entertaining things simply because I can’t relax, get past my snobbery, and let myself appreciate them. Still, when I saw how much everyone loved ‘One Day’, it put me off in a massive way. I came up with excuses not to read it. I spent a week forgetting to put it in my work bag. I got caught up reading Kristen Reed’s ‘The Ice Age’ instead (which, as it happens, was worth neither the time nor the money spent special ordering it). Finally, the nagging from people whose opinions I respect cracked me. I caved in and started reading it.


I was immediately hooked. For anyone who was as put off by the hype as I was, all I can say is this: don’t be. This is one of those rare occurrences where the object of excessive praise is actually thoroughly deserving of it. ‘One Day’ engrossed me, left me oblivious to everything else. I started pestering my friends and co-workers to read it. I read when I should have been sleeping, daydreamed about reading while I was at work, and kept missing my stop on the tube.


I’m reticent to say too much about the plot, as I don’t want to give anything away that would spoil the enjoyment of discovering this very special book for the first time. What I will mention are the things David Nicholls has done exceptionally well. The use of humour, for a start, is spot on. Ironic observations about life, popular culture references from the past twenty years, and gentle sarcasm left me smiling with each page turn. The characters are also extremely human. They have flaws, sometimes painfully so, but they are endearing in a way that leaves you recognising bits of yourself in them. I identified so much with the character of Emma that I actually wondered whether the author had been hiding cameras around my flat.


Most crucially, though, are the relationships ‘One Day’ creates. This is not a stereotypical, cookie-cutter romance. Emma and Dexter seem to loathe and annoy as much as they love and respect each other. In short, theirs is a story that you will relate to, fall in love with, and which will leave you longing for more when it’s done.


Written by Megan Hunter for Fringe Report: http://www.fringereport.wordpress.com/. (c) Megan Hunter 2010

Top Three Fashion Finds

With summer finally here, I thought I’d share my ‘Top Three Fashion Finds’ for this season. When it comes to fashion, I stand by the rule that that there are no set rules. If you feel comfortable and confident with yourself and how you look, you’ve already won. And if you can help to bring that comfort and confidence to others, even better! With that in mind, I also think we have an obligation to share our best finds. Here are mine:

• Mineral Makeup- A few weeks ago, I accompanied a friend to a complementary spa day and makeover. It was meant to be a glamorous experience, where professional beauty experts would work their elusive brand of magic and we would emerge butterfly-like from our cocoons as ‘new women’. But as the day wore on, I found myself growing itchy and uncomfortable thanks to the pounds of makeup that had been caked onto my skin. At the first opportunity, I snuck away and furiously scrubbed it all off. It got me to thinking, though: isn’t it a strange concept of beauty, to hide ourselves away behind a thick mask of pore-clogging chemicals?
  Now, I never thought that I’d be one to shun traditional cosmetics such as Yves Saint Laurent or Dior in favour of their greener counterparts. After all, I had a part-time job during art school at Sephora, the stateside Mecca of cosmetics junkies everywhere. I have a perhaps too fond memory of the first time I purchased the perfect shade of red Chanel lipstick. Still, there is something uniquely satisfying about putting cosmetics on your skin that are actually good for it. And it is particularly during the summer, when traditional makeup melts away faster than the Wicked Witch of the West in ‘The Wizard of Oz’, that all-natural makeup really holds its own.
  Mineral makeup gives exceptional coverage, while still allowing your skin to breath and be seen. More amazingly, you genuinely can’t feel it at all. Sometimes I will actually forget whether I’m wearing it until I catch site of myself in a mirror and notice the airbrushed effect.
  Furthermore, Its natural mineral content provides substantial protection from the damaging effects of the sun, and preventing wrinkles is a whole lot easier than trying to treat them. Finally, it’s good for sensitive and problematic skin (I should know, as I’ve been blessed with both). I use Lily Lolo, for their competitve prices and very generous sample sizes. I’m also happy knowing that I’m supporting an independent, local business. http://www.lilylolo.co.uk/

• 
  
  ‘Spare Pear’ Ballet Flats- One of the best things about summer, in my opinion, is the shoes. Delicious wedges, strappy sandals, kitten heels, and towering platforms are everywhere. Buying shoes is a bit like my Everest: the journey is endless, there are countless factors to take into consideration, and there are many points where I seriously consider giving up. But every year, I eventually find the perfect pair, the kind that insights waves of envy in friends and strangers alike. On my commute to work, I catch the lusty gazes of other women as they try to determine where I bought them, and try to pluck up the courage to ask.
  Inevitably, they also turn out to be highly impractical creations; devices of complete and unimaginable torture. Far from coveting glances, I hobble home at the end of the day to looks of total pity. My poor feet bleeding and covered in plasters, I curse the very moment I laid eyes on the beautiful, wretched, agonizing things. Usually, I end up buying some cheap, ugly, even more uncomfortable flip-flops to wear for the rest of the way and then promptly throwing the whole lot into the bin.
  It’s after a lifetime of such crises that I have discovered salvation. ‘Spare Pear’ is a totally ingenious American brand which creates rollable ballet flats compact enough to fit into even the smallest cluch. They also come inside a lovely cloth bag which is perfect for toting the monstrosities which landed you in this horrible mess to begin with. At the dirt-cheap price of only $22.50 US, and with reasonable rates on international shipping, you will look stylish and clever. So clever, in fact, that no one will suspect how much money you wasted on utterly useless shoes. http://www.sparepear.com/
• Liberty for Target Dresses- The last time I was in the States, I stopped by the middle-class, middle-America institution that is ‘Target’. Much to my delight, I found that they were featuring, for a limited time, design specialties from Liberty of London. I love Liberty, love wandering through their gorgeous store on Great Marlborough street and taking in the array of colours, fabrics, and scents. Liberty is a bit like a fashion museum, though. While I thoroughly enjoy looking at the collection of Monets in the National Gallery, I have no intention of buying one myself. So, too, it is with Liberty. Even if I had a spare £1,000.00 in the bank (which I definitely don’t), I doubt I could convince myself to spend it on just one dress.
  When I realised, then, that these gorgeous Liberty for Target concoctions were only $30.00 US a pop, I couldn’t resist. I snapped up as many as I could cram into my suitcase and then threw in some sumptuous cropped cardigans as well, just for good measure. I’ve been wearing them obsessively ever since. My favorite is an A-lined, knee length, tiered dress in their Isis patern (a gorgeous array of burgandy, teal, and lemongrass peacock feathers on a dark green background). I wear it with a lime green, cropped, ¾ length cardigan and chocolate, leather platforms. Then I walk up and down Great Marlborough street and chuckle to myself at my own good fortune/ dumb luck. Liberty is currently stocking a selection from their Target collection in store and on line, but at greatly inflated prices. Still, it’s makes for a substantial bargain if you consider what these things normally retail for. Better still, pop in for colour and pattern inspiration, and then hit the high street instead. http://www.liberty.co.uk/

Written by Megan Hunter for Fringe Report: http://www.fringereport.wordpress.com/. (c) Megan Hunter 2010.

Vegetarian Cuban-Style Black Beans and Rice Recipe

Arroz y Frijoles. Gallo Pinto. Hoppin’ John. Whatever name they go by, Beans and Rice are a staple meal throughout Latin America, the Carribean, and many parts of the United States. It’s easy to see why: this is a meal which is ridiculously inexpensive, easy, and tasty. The ultimate comfort food, it’s the perfect way to warm your belly on a chilly winter night. And as a further benefit to my fellow veggies, the combination of beans and rice provides a source of complete protein, as well as a favourable dose of Iron and Vitamin B.


There are countless ways to prepare this dish, but I like to use a variation on the Cuban method. The Cubans call their dish Platillo Moros y Cristianos and generally add black beans to a simmering and richly flavoured sofrito, or base, and serve over piping hot white rice. Sofrito is traditionally made with lard and often has a touch of bacon or ham added in, but don’t worry as the recipe below is suitable for vegetarians (vegans, hold off on the cheese or buy a vegan version and you can also enjoy!).

Ingredients:
1 large onion, diced
4 garlic cloves, crushed
2 bell peppers, finely chopped
410 grams of chopped tomatoes with chilli (or roughly 1 tin)
2 heaping tablespoons of concentrated tomato puree
pinch of salt
pinch of sugar
dash of pepper
dash of cayenne pepper
dash of turmeric
1 tsp hot chilli pepper
1 tsp paprika
800 grams of black beans (or roughly 2 tins, or 4 cups cooked)
hot sauce of your choice (Cholula is highly recommended if you can find it!)
water
crumbled queso blanco or shredded mature cheddar cheese (optional)

Directions:
Preheat oil in a large frying pan, and sauté onions, peppers, and garlic for several minutes until the onions are transparent. Stir in chopped tomatoes, adding in tomato puree to thicken. Continue stirring in spices, sugar, salt, pepper, and 5-6 tablespoons of water over low heat. Simmer gently for 20-30 minutes, or until mixture has reduced and thickened but taking care that it does not burn or dry out. This base is your ‘sofrito’.
After the mixture has simmered, add in black beans, 1/8 cup of water, and a few dashes of hot sauce, and continue cooking on low/medium heat for an additional 5-10 minutes or until it is heated throughout. Serve over a bead of steamed white rice, with grated cheese and hot sauce on the side. Serves 4.


Written by Megan Hunter for Fringe Report: http://www.fringereport.wordpress.com/. (c) Megan Hunter 2010.

Review of 'I am Woof'

I am Woof
Created and Performed by: Robert Taylor
Produced by: ScenePool
Edinburgh Fringe Festival
The Space at Surgeons Hall (V53)
06/08/2010 - 14/08/2010
*An emotional powerhouse. Not to be missed.



Robert Taylor's original piece 'I am Woof' is a moving and insightful look at the impact of war. Based on verbatim text taken from interviews with soldiers returning from Afghanistan, it explores the reasons why young men and women enlist, their fear in the face of battle, and their struggles to reacclimatize once they've returned home. Set on a bare black stage adorned only with one wooden chair, this is a simple, honest, and incredibly powerful exploration of a vital topic which doesn't receive enough attention.


'I am Woof' focuses on the individual stories of three soldiers, each at different points in their service. There is the experienced, disillusioned older man who has sacrificed his youth and relationships to fight for his country. Then, there is the soldier leaving for Afghanistan who is terrified of what he faces but proud of his place in a family line of servicemen. Finally, there is the young man returning home, scarred by what he has seen in battle, and facing mental health issues as he attempts to readjust to life in Britain.


The most impressive part of 'I am Woof' is that it doesn't take a biased stance on the current conflict. Instead, it allows the true words of its real life subjects to speak for themselves. This is not a political piece pushing an ulterior motive. Instead, it is a human piece which examines the high moral cost to our society of sending young men and women to risk their lives. It also asks a series of crucial questions. What are the reasons which motivate young people to join the military? How well do we prepare our troops for battle, and how well do we support them once they're there? Even more crucially, how do we support them once they return?


Robert Taylor turns in a brilliant performance while effortlessly transitioning through the truths of each character. He infuses life and vulnerability into other men's words, while allowing for subtlety and emotional variation. That he resisted the urge to make this controversial subject matter melodramatic is greatly appreciated, with the end result being that it is impossible to take your eyes off of him. The only disappointment with the performance is that it isn't longer, as you want to know more about these men and their stories. But for the thirty minutes that he is on the stage, Robert Taylor is delightful and totally captivating. Paul O'Brien has also supported the piece perfectly with his naturalistic, understated sound design. While setting the tone for the text, the sound lends atmosphere without competing for audience attention. The focus remains where it should be: on the words.


There is a recurring theme of 'youth' in 'I am Woof'. One of Robert Taylor's characters says of enlisting, simply: 'I was young; I don't think I knew what I was getting into'. If we at home were also unaware, we can no longer be after seeing 'I am Woof'. The performance is playing at the Edinburgh Fringe from August 6th through August 14th. If you are going to be in Edinburgh for the festival, I highly recommend seeing it. 5 Stars.


Playing August 6th through August 14th, 2010 at The Space at Surgeons Hall (V53) at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Review written by Megan Hunter for Fringe Review: http://www.fringereview.co.uk/. Artwork by Ben Jarlett.

Review of "Shrunk"

Shrunk

By, Charlotte Eilenberg

Presented by: Good Night Out Presents

The Cock Tavern Theatre, Kilburn

18/05/2010-12/06/2010

*The tables are turned in this darkly-comic look at psychoanalysis and its effects on both therapist and patient.

Charlotte Eilenberg’s new play “Shrunk” explores the concept of modern psycho-analysis and the potentially negative power it can wield. It questions the impact of an analyst’s own struggles on the advice which they give to their patients, as well as the impact of that advice on their lives. Would we still value the opinion of our therapist if we knew how similar they were to us, flaws and all?

The credentials of “Shrunk” are certainly impressive. The Cock Tavern Theatre is a beacon on the London Fringe scene, producing consistently good material, a fine example of which is its long running “La Boheme” which is transferring to the SoHo Theatre in July. Under the Artistic Direction of Adam Spreadbury-Maher, The Cock Tavern has won awards and critical acclaim and built a reputation as a showcase for exciting new works. “Shrunk” playwright Charlotte Eilenberg also won both The Critic’s Circle Award and a Laurence Olivier Award for her first play, “The Lucky Ones”, which had an extended sell-out run at The Hampstead Theatre. Director Julian Birkett has built an impressive career as a producer and director for BBC TV. And actors Jack Klaff and Amanda Ryan have, between them, experience at the National Theatre, the Donmar Warehouse, the Royal Shakespeare Company and the West End.
Adding to these strengths, Kate Guinness has designed an intricate and intimate set which truly draws the audience in. The endless collection of books, dark wooden window shades, leather and oak furniture, and plush carpets create an extremely realistic analyst’s office. This attention to detail, combined with the close quarters of the Cock Tavern, produce an overwhelming feeling of actually being in the room with Max and Celia. Sound and lighting design compliment this experience perfectly.

 

Yet, despite all of this, and despite a committed performance turned out by both members of the cast, there are things about “Shrunk” which don’t work. The script has several darkly comical elements, however attempts at shock plot twists come across as too predictable. Further, the play relies heavily on melodrama, which makes it difficult to find pieces of the action believable. For example, the reality of a spouse leaving is undoubtedly traumatic, but Celia’s behaviour suggests a deeply disturbed woman with mental health issues beyond the pain of marital breakdown. Where the audience wants to see real emotional honesty and vulnerability from her, she is instead written as unsympathetic, psychotic, and violent. With this in mind, it is unlikely that Max would be so relaxed around her or, indeed, that he would freely reveal so much of himself given that she is pointing a gun at his head. Obviously, she is forcing him to speak, but Max’s forthcoming calmness feels out of place. By layering the character of Celia, allowing for her to express more emotional levels, and sharing more glimpses of her life with her husband, it would lend much needed sympathy to her character and, by extension, believability to the play as a whole.

The result of this lack of emotional variation is the impression of unnecessary exposition and posturing, which misses the numerous opportunities for real, honest connection between the characters. However, Jack Klaff and Amanda Ryan are both obviously skilled actors, turning out entirely watchable and entertaining performances. The set is sumptuous, the writing is generally witty (aside from the prevalence of excessive Freud impressions), and with work on the structure and characterisation within the script there is certainly room for improvement. Ultimately, there is a great deal of talent on display in this particular production, and “Shrunk” is worth seeing if for this reason alone.

Playing through June 12, 2010 at the Cock Tavern Theatre, Kilburn. Review written by Megan Hunter for Fringe Review: www.fringereview.co.uk.

Review of "The Libertine"

The Libertine
Presented by: Sedos
The Bridewell Theatre, Bride Lane, Fleet Street
02/03/2010 - 06/02/2010
*An Invitation into the Debauched World of the Second Earl of Rochester


Defiant, morally unrestrained, dissolute, and promiscuous, the second Earl of Rochester was as well known for his dalliances in Restoration England as he is today. Based on his life and poems, Stephen Jeffreys’ “The Libertine” explores some of Rochester’s more controversial years and, in particular, his affair with the actress Elizabeth Barry. Playing at the Bridwell Theatre through Saturday, March 6th, Sedos’ production takes an unorthodox approach to this story of a highly unorthodox man.


The thing that makes reviewing “The Libertine” so difficult is that it truly is a tale of two opposing acts. Act One, despite some issues, is an overall enjoyable experience. The acting, from Luke Trebilcock as Lord Rochester in particular, is very good, and the action moves ahead at a comfortable pace. The use of the Grotesque Chorus in demonstrating bits of back-story is clever, and unique choreography by Leigh Tredger and Angus Jacobs allows the chorus to transition effortlessly from individual entities into one concise unit. Still, the highlight is the playful, satirical humour that courses through the first half and is at its finest when Rochester, Sebastien Blanc as George Etheredge, and Mark Macey as Charles Sackville share the stage. Rebecca Weymouth’s fine portrayal of Jane is also of note. Add to this the palpable chemistry between Rochester and Brooke Peterson’s Elizabeth Barry, and it is possible to overlook the often too gratuitous and overt sexuality that permeates the piece.


Of course, this is a play about the second Earl of Rochester, England’s precursor to the Marquis de Sade, and one expects a certain level of debauchery. Stephen Jefferys has rightly filled his text with sexual references, and there should be little doubt when booking tickets of what is in store. However, where this production errs is by removing itself from the 17th century setting and attempting to use a combination of period-inspired text, New Romantics style costumes, and a heavy metal soundtrack to uncover modern-day taboos. The problem with all of this is that it is no longer 1672, and attitudes regarding sex have had a major shift. Instead of confronting the audience with its subject matter, the production tries too hard to shock them and in doing so it risks predictability. Meanwhile, with nearly every other character on staged equally or more debauched than him, Rochester ends up looking tame by comparison.


It is with the second act, though, that the play needs the most improvement. With all the energy and pacing of the first act forgotten, the second drags on endlessly. This seems to be partly a textual issue, as Act Two deals with heavier emotional material and thus loses some of the playful cynicism of the first. Rochester is also dying, something that the programme notes and historical accuracy have set us up for, but watching him struggle and wince for over an hour while his friends cry around him is exhausting. Tighter cues between lines and more greatly varied emotional levels would better serve to keep the audience’s attention. As it is, “The Libertine” is recommended for a handful of standout performances and some nice moments in the first half. 3 Stars.


Playing through March 6th at the Bridewell Theatre on Bride Lane, Fleet Street. Review written by Megan Hunter for Fringe Review: www.fringereview.co.uk.