There are, I think, two truisms that deserve to be noted before we start. The first is that new writing at Oxford is ridiculously hard to sell. No one’s heard of the play, so marketing requires extreme ingenuity for it to be considered anything close to a success. The crew are usually a group ofContinue reading “Preview: Me & Mike”
In the Oberkassel area of Düsseldorf’s district 4, on the west side of the river Rhine, stands a rather remarkable building. It has white walls and a black roof, with numerous windows of various sizes – including a rather elegant loft extension. Indeed, if we ignore this extension and the roof terrace which sits aboveContinue reading “The Art of Our Time”
Warhol, armed with hundred dollars’ worth of change, took Ethel Scull to a photobooth and shot image after image after image.
A crewmember’s dreadful boast (uttered in the smoking area of Cellar): this is ‘sort of the BNOC play for this term’.
Walking down the street away from the cinema, I was almost overwhelmed with a disconcerting haze of claustrophobia.
Even Tarantino himself seems to understand, implicitly at least, that his story takes the wrong medium.
The Barbican Centre, that gargantuan, sprawling labyrinth of brutalism, has been an intriguing space ever since it opened its doors to the public in 1982. Not only does its location in the heart of the City create a stark juxtaposition between its muted, Orwellian concrete and the polished sheen of the surrounding glass skyscrapers, theContinue reading “An artist’s obsessions”