Day seven, breaking the back

Past the halfway point, how are you holding out?

So I've had a whine about how ordinary I found the Manchester theatre scene this year, and I've made my case for my theatrical highlight.  Except that it wasn't, quite; because as much as I love big, serious and challenging theatre and wish there was some in Manchester more than once a year, my theatrical highlight in the city last year was off the scale as far as entertainment went.

Billy, The Monster and Me! was frankly the most enjoyable time I've spent in front of a stage all year.  Energetic, charming, genuinely funny and heartfelt.  Watching it with friends helped, but in fact we were all friends five minutes into the story.  The image of Gramps asleep in the chair, the monster scoffing- aww, I can't give too much away.....

Because you too have a chance to be a member of Team Billy!  Get yourself along to rePlay at the Lowry later in January; I promise you it's a real treat.  Anything that can keep me and a bunch of kids entranced must be doing something right.

While I'm at it, you should also check out The Man Who Woke Up Dead, which gets an honourable mention; seeing this piece develop earlier in the year was fascinating and while at the time I wasn't sure if the final show quite lived up to the initial potential, it was a stylish and intriguing story brilliantly produced and performed, and probably the only other show I saw on the local fringe that genuinely felt like a worthwhile way to spend time.  Further development can only have improved it in the meantime.  Both this and Billy are at rePlay.

http://www.thelowry.com/events/tag/replay%20festival

And of course I didn't see everything; on my list are One Hand Clapping and Lunch, both of which I've heard good things about.  Let's see if they make an impact for this time next year....


There's one more theatre show to come in this list, and if you've spoken to me at all about theatre in the second half of this year you'll know what it is already....

Day six, the meat course

Theatre.  Where to begin?

Honestly?  I've been really uninspired by virtually everything I've seen this year, especially from the main houses.  Not that I've seen nearly everything (you may be surprised to hear), and I'm sure I've missed some gems.  But what I have seen has been at best competent, at worst abysmal.  So it hasn't been difficult to recognise what I've felt to be the highlights.

I very much enjoyed Dickie Beau at the Contact Theatre in Lost in Trans, thoughtful and challenging with powerful imagery that has remained in my imagination probably more than anything else I've seen this year, and I would certainly been keen to see his work develop in the future.

But my highlight for today is The Old Woman at the Palace Theatre, which was engaging and riveting and provoking unlike anything else I've seen this year.  It demonstrated that stories are not always straightforward and that life isn't always easy to comprehend, but that your heart can be broken by the opening of an imaginary book.

It wasn't original and didn't altogether work, it was the sort of theatre that if seen on the London stage would have garnered a few admiring nods, it didn't break any boundaries of theatre practise or historical convention, but it was an imaginative show that with absolute honesty took no prisoners and sometimes all you want from a show is to emerge feeling satisfied or fired up with enthusiasm for the world.  This show did that for me, and I appreciated seeing it on a big Manchester stage.  Personally I didn't think it was 'brave' (whatever that means), but I get the feeling that Mancunian audiences weren't as captivated as I was.  I'm guessing it wasn't a box office hit.  Artistically it was honest, which is all I really want from my theatre, while taking me into a new realm, which is what I love to get from theatre and yet happens so very very rarely.


That said, there are a few other theatrical moments to come in my #12days, and I'd love to know what you think, feel free to comment, challenge or tell me what I missed....

Day five, gold rings

Music, pfft.  My hard drive kaput earlier this year, so I have spend a grand proportion uploading my CD collection and using the opportunity to listen through whole albums again; something I've not done for many years.  This has meant many rediscoveries rather than new finds.  I think the only recording this year that I've really enjoyed was Prefab Sprout!  Although I also discovered Bread this year, who really lifted my spirits.

Honourable mention has to go to Jonny Trunk, whose website I have used for a while now to pick up odds and ends, but whose 50p Friday promotion this year was made me arrange my life so I can get to a computer I can use to take advantage one day a week!

But my day five highlight has to be the Mike Harding Folkshow.  Turning adversity into opportunity, these weekly podcasts are a vital stream of varied and beautiful music that give me a route into a world that I wish I had better, easier access to, and done with genuine enthusiasm and charm that seems so much more at ease then when he broadcast for the beeb.

And it's an hour and a half every week, and it's free.  It deserves support, because it's a treasure.  EVERY SUNDAY FOLKS; THAT'S TODAY!

http://www.mikehardingfolkshow.com/

I have to admit I get mildly frustrated with people who claim to be curious about music, but who don't listen to Late Junction on BBC Radio 3, Stuart Maconie's Freakshows and this.  I'm learning to shrug and go on my way.

Day four, digging the hole

There seem to have been, this year, a proliferation of new spaces for work.  Although venues are closing at a rate that would make Dr Beeching proud, new places for performances - especially spoken word - and the longevity of others seems to be consolidating the scene.  So alongside Embryo and First Draft, I've discovered Bad Language, and more recent events Evidently and Mon Mon, and I've had a great time at all of these.  I think the difference is that these night encourage conversation and socialising in a way going to watch someone's play doesn't, unless you have half-an-hour to wait around after the play has finished.

(btw I could real off a whole list of others, if I could remember their names.  The scratch night that is held at Sale Waterside; the poetry gig I dropped into at Taurus.  And then there's Newk, which is the finest night of its type in the region.)

However, my day four highlight manages all of this while bucking the trend for taking away our roofs.  It feels like it's been there for so much longer, but it is only this year that the Korova Arts Café opened in Preston, and it has already, as far as I'm concerned, established itself as the go-to place for enabling work, relaxing, and decent coffee.

http://www.projectkorova.co.uk/

Some people seem to think that Preston is too far; I would only point out that it's quicker than travelling from Greenwich to the City, or Richmond to the west end.  But then, for some people Huddersfield and Bolton are too far.  And the last train home from Preston is later than my last train home from Manchester; what's going on there?

I like Preston.  It's not the greatest city in the world.  But the bus station is thrilling, the Oxfam bookshop is a money drain, the Conti is somewhere I need to pay more attention to in 2014.  And then there's Korova.

Sam Buist has achieved something remarkable in managing to get this off the ground.  Alongside other venue operations I sometimes wish it was easier and swifter to pin down to definite projects, but what is happening is interesting and always worth investigating.  With their Hatch, Klectic and Experimental projects there's real scope for engaging with work and I suspect I will be spending much more time bobbing up and down over the coming year.  You should to!

Day three, where I start to go off the rails

I know a lot of cultural people, a lot of people into good music and theatre, and a lot of people with little money.  You'd really have thought more of them would pop to Huddersfield for one Monday in November when the music festival showcases some of the best contemporary music for FREE.

My third pick of the year has to be the Huddersfield Contemporary Music Festival Monday, gig after gig after gig from eleven in the morning to well after I have to scoot for the last train home.  Just getting off the train is an awesome experience, with a stunning façade opening onto a heart-lifting square.  It is with such bemusement that Bolton Council, when offered an opportunity to create an entrance to the town that could be just a striking, have gone for their transport hub which will only say to visitors that they've made some horrendous mistake.

And then Huddersfield has a fine selection of concert halls and gig spaces that are thrilling to move between for each set and comfortable to spend time in absorbing the music.

But this year especially I was blown away by Jennifer Walshe, who's writing was brave and evocative and who's performance was inspiring. It was the final set I caught this year, and partly because if I had to leave early I was glad to leave on a high.  It was a world I'd had some insight into (and some fellow performers at the First Oxo Conference in July were powerfully in their own right) and yet I was taken to a new standard and I have no doubt she will continue to inform by work for some time yet.

Tremendous stuff.

Day two, where I continue to make out I'm cool

I buy far too many books, and I read far too many books too superficially.  And I really don't like novels.  Very occasionally a book strikes to the heart of the matter.

I also buy pretty much all of those books from charity shops on the strength of the cover.  This was no exception.

I've read some pretty damn fine books this year.  The Secret Lives of Buildings by Edward Hollis was right up my street anyway but packed with revelation.  Energy Flash by Simon Reynolds was an incredible journey through a part of culture that had seemed beyond my grasp with memory and research powerfully combined.  Both were charity shop finds.

I hadn't heard of John Williams, but the book was in decent nick, I liked the cover and thought it would look good on my shelves.  Which, frankly, is where most books spend most of their time.  I was encouraged by positive words of people I respected on the back.  I expected a gentle, thoughtful read.

Stoner is a marvel of terse prose and overwhelming truth, I think.  Its subject is unremarkable and therefore felt absolutely relevant to me personally.  It's heartbreakingly honest, both tragic and reassuring.

I don't want to oversell it.  It hasn't changed my world, but it has stayed with me because it speaks of things that are always with me.  Now, of course, this book is everywhere, on everyone's must-read lists and stacked up on tables in every good bookshop.  Often the pretentious part of me despairs that a discovery of mine has suddenly become mainstream; not in this case.

Day One, with nothing to relate

I promised you I'd blog my highlights of 2013 over the twelve days of Christmas.  If I muck up the technology on this you'll have to bear with me.  But let's crack on with the content.

As I would proudly, if idiotically, boast until recently, the last film I saw at the cinema was The Curse of the Were-Rabbit.  Partly this inertia was caused by the truth that no film will ever come close to being that great.  I recently spoilt this record by watching Nebraska, which was fine but isn't my day one highlight (watch Straight Story instead, or as well).  Partly it was caused by my love of the live experience, although I still enjoy some television and honourable mention should go to Porterhouse Blue which I discovered this year and was a tremendous watch.

But my first highlight is, in fact, a film; not a new or even recent film, but new to me and perhaps to you too.  Not an original or ground-breaking film, but one which presented its world with a striking and entertaining spirit.  Fortunately I don't have to wax lyrical about it, because you can see it for yourselves; it's Mauricio Kagel's film Ludwig van

I saw this as part of the RNCM Beethoven season, which was a true treat.  They are a real treasure and a great asset to the Mancunian cultural scene.  I intend to spend quite a bit of time with them through 2014.  So much of their stuff is free, so you have no excuse not to join me!

Yup, that's it.  Another highlight tomorrow, though they've not all be quite so straightforward as this one so expect much more in the way of honourable mentions and preamble.

And share yours as well; I'm already looking for what 2014 will have to offer.  I already have BS Johnson films from the BFI lined up from my Christmas hoard!

Merry Christmas.