“Pub is the Hub” was an initiative set up in 2001 by The Prince of Wales. It encourages breweries, pub owners, licensees and local communities to work together to help retain and enhance rural pubs. The idea was that providing new services from the pub, such as a post office or a shop, either keeps an essential service in the village or brings a new one in.
My local, the Coronation Tap, could never be called a rural pub, as it is only about a mile and a half from the centre of the city of Bristol. However it could be called a village pub, as it is in the area generally called Clifton Village. “Whatever”, as they say: the principle of “pub is the hub” is fulfilled superbly by the Coronation Tap, except that it’s a musical hub.
When I first came to Bristol five years ago, I was fortunate that in my first week here a friendly local told me about the CoriTap, as it is often called. I soon discovered that Jan and Mick Gale, the licensees, had built up an enviable reputation for the quality and variety of the live music, and also for the friendliness of the pub.
Since then they have gone from strength to strength and last week I was there at an unusual time, Monday morning. The occasion: BBC Radio Bristol was broadcasting live from the pub for two hours, because the following day Jan and Mick were going to the Grosvenor House in London for the award of the “Publican” trade paper’s “UK Music Pub of the Year”. The CoriTap had made it to the last six.
One reason for this success is that it’s not just the punters that enjoy the live music sessions here. Without exception, musicians line up to describe it as their favourite venue; this despite the fact that in terms of space it’s less than ideal. Atmosphere is hard to specify, but this pub has it in spades. An appreciative clientele is another reason why Jan is constantly being approached by new acts, some from beyond our shores, that have heard about the CoriTap legend from fellow-musicians and want to come and see what all the fuss is about.
Jan and Mick didn’t win this time; I believe that we came joint second. But there is always next year. This is the first time that the pub has entered the competition, so to have reached a national shortlist at the first attempt is some achievement. I am confident, and so are all the customers and musicians who love this venue, that next year the title will come to Bristol!
http://www.thecoronationtap.com/calendar.php
http://news.bbc.co.uk/local/bristol/hi/people_and_places/newsid_7959000/7959612.stm
http://www.thisisbristol.co.uk/news/Bristol-s-CoriTap-running-UK-s-best-music-pubarticle-591011-details/article.html
Tuesday, 31 March 2009
Monday, 23 March 2009
Does the UK need an equivalent to Jon Stewart ? Does it already have one?
I have been reading lots lately about the way that the spoof news programme “The Daily Show” in the US has dealt with the economic meltdown, socking it not just to the banks but also some of the financial commentators, who, they allege, were complicit. I’ve also seen unexpurgated video of Jon Stewart, the show’s front man, “doing a Paxman” as we say here, on TV financial “tipster” Jim Cramer. Meaning he borrowed some of Jeremy Paxman’s relentlessness, albeit with more humour. Just go to Google and search for "Daily Show Jim Cramer".
As a result Stewart got lots of favourable comment in the British press, plus the question, “why don’t we have a British equivalent?” The coverage of the story in The Observer (London) harked back to the BBC’s “Not The Nine O’clock News” and “The Day Today”, saying these were the only examples we had of satirical news coverage; both brilliant but both many years ago. (1980s and 1990s respectively). The charge was repeated in an editorial.
I thought this was unfair, because we’ve had “Bremner, Bird & Fortune” - extremely sharp satire, whether or not you agree with its political standpoint. The fourteenth series screened in November 2008.
The Observer‘s leading article concluded, “There is no British equivalent; that’s a shame”. I don’t agree; there is a British equivalent and I for one am keen to see it back on our screens.
As a result Stewart got lots of favourable comment in the British press, plus the question, “why don’t we have a British equivalent?” The coverage of the story in The Observer (London) harked back to the BBC’s “Not The Nine O’clock News” and “The Day Today”, saying these were the only examples we had of satirical news coverage; both brilliant but both many years ago. (1980s and 1990s respectively). The charge was repeated in an editorial.
I thought this was unfair, because we’ve had “Bremner, Bird & Fortune” - extremely sharp satire, whether or not you agree with its political standpoint. The fourteenth series screened in November 2008.
The Observer‘s leading article concluded, “There is no British equivalent; that’s a shame”. I don’t agree; there is a British equivalent and I for one am keen to see it back on our screens.
"If you can deal with triumph and disaster ..."
My title comes, of course, from Kipling’s “If”; the poem that for many years was voted the UK’s favourite. The rugby players of Wales & Ireland were put to that test on Saturday, after they had played out the final stage in the Six Nations tournament. In the event Ireland won, though they might have lost in the final 30 seconds had not a Wales penalty goal attempt fallen 61 inches short. “Who measured that?” I thought, on reading it in my paper. Then I remembered that by winning, Ireland had achieved the coveted “Grand Slam”, which had eluded them for 61 years, so this was a forgivable bit of poetic licence. Whether it was 61 inches or 62, it was a damn close-run thing. So the reactions of the players when interviewed after the game were a test of character, which I am glad to say they passed.
Normally I can do without the interviews of the players. They have done their talking on the pitch; it’s a rare sportsperson who can offer an instructive insight after the game; especially just a few minutes after having played 80 minutes of top-class sport. I’d rather hear the views of the studio panel of top-class and well-paid summarisers that the BBC has assembled to give an overview. But first we always have to endure ten minutes of banal questions followed by mostly (sorry, guys) anodyne replies.
I say normally … but on this occasion the players’ responses were instructive and I think they passed with flying colours. I didn’t hear all the interviews but in those I heard the Irish were gracious in victory and the Welsh gracious in defeat; both gave credit to their opponents, following traditions which I had feared had been outdated.
But my all-time favourite for grace in defeat, or at least getting a sense of proportion? Boris Becker, after winning Wimbledon in 1985 (at 17 years old, and the first unseeded player ever to do so) and winning again the following year, was then beaten in the second round in ‘87. Replying to the inevitable overblown shock-horror questions at the post-match interview, he said simply: "I lost a game of tennis; nobody died."
Normally I can do without the interviews of the players. They have done their talking on the pitch; it’s a rare sportsperson who can offer an instructive insight after the game; especially just a few minutes after having played 80 minutes of top-class sport. I’d rather hear the views of the studio panel of top-class and well-paid summarisers that the BBC has assembled to give an overview. But first we always have to endure ten minutes of banal questions followed by mostly (sorry, guys) anodyne replies.
I say normally … but on this occasion the players’ responses were instructive and I think they passed with flying colours. I didn’t hear all the interviews but in those I heard the Irish were gracious in victory and the Welsh gracious in defeat; both gave credit to their opponents, following traditions which I had feared had been outdated.
But my all-time favourite for grace in defeat, or at least getting a sense of proportion? Boris Becker, after winning Wimbledon in 1985 (at 17 years old, and the first unseeded player ever to do so) and winning again the following year, was then beaten in the second round in ‘87. Replying to the inevitable overblown shock-horror questions at the post-match interview, he said simply: "I lost a game of tennis; nobody died."
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
Who'd want to run a railway?
It’s good to have an opportunity to defend the UK’s often-criticised rail system. Did I hear you say “a rare opportunity”? Shame on you!
Last Sunday I was travelling, as I often do, from Cheltenham to Bristol Temple Meads. This time I took the first train of the day, the 09.52; I had been surprised that there wasn’t anything earlier, but as the train was half-empty, the operator would no doubt have replied that there’s no demand for an earlier train on a Sunday.
You don’t have to be a railway fan, just a traveller, to know that the franchise for cross-country routes, particularly from my home in the South-West to the North-East and Scotland, is no longer held by Virgin Cross-Country but by the imaginatively named Cross-Country Trains. You might not also know that Cross-Country Trains is / are run by Arriva.
I was chatting to the very helpful guy running the shop (probably his title was Retail Manager or something like it.) I was keen to found out what differences the franchise change had made (I hadn’t observed too many, apart from a new and rather dull external colour scheme on the trains which they had taken over from Virgin) and he was very forthcoming. Yes, there was a definite improvement in the new company as seen from the viewpoint of the employees, all of who had transferred across from Virgin, like the trains.
I told Paul (not his real name) that my only beef about the change was that it had been reported that the main reason Virgin lost the franchise to Arriva (several years earlier than it was due to expire) was because of frequent complaints of overcrowding, i.e. insufficient capacity, but I had seen little change in that regard.
Paul however said that progress is being made and Arriva had just bought five renovated “HST sets”, i.e. the so-called High-Speed Trains. They’re widely used elsewhere in the country; I say “so-called” because the name is a misnomer on this part of the route, where average speeds are not that high due to the frequent bends. He said that these new acquisitions had been extensively renovated and were better than the “Voyager” trains that were previously the only trains on this route. I agreed that the HSTs were more comfortable and roomy, less noisy, and had more capacity compared with the four- and five coach Voyagers. I added that they also didn’t suffer from the smelly-loo syndrome of the Voyagers; the latter always remind me of the scene in the movie version of “Glengarry Glen Ross” when the Al Pacino character, holding forth in a bar, says: “all train carriages smell vaguely of shit. It gets so you don’t mind it. That’s the worst thing that I can confess. You know how long it took me to get there? A long time.”
Enough of movies: Paul told me that the five new trains (well, second-hand but renovated) were the most that “the Government” had allowed Arriva / Cross-Country to buy. That’s not the first time that I’ve heard “from the horse’s mouth”, i.e. from a railway employee, that the TOCs (Train Operating Companies) cannot make their own decisions about procurement of new trains and that new trains / rolling stock are allocated centrally. Makes you wonder about the thinking behind privatisation. It seems to be a typical British muddle. You sell off the railways, giving private companies local monopolies. However, their prices, i.e. fares, are controlled to a great extent in a way not many private enterprises are. Then you can take away their franchise if their services are overcrowded, i.e. they don’t have enough seating capacity (e.g. the Virgin Cross-Country case, plus threats of similar sanctions have probably been discussed with First Great Western) but if they want to buy new trains they are told they can’t. The FGW employee who first told me their hands were tied in this respect, said that most new trains are currently being allocated to routes serving the north, where FGW doesn’t operate. I don’t know how true that is. Furthermore, I know that late running can bring financial penalties, but how many times have you been on a train that is held up by a signalling problem (which is clearly outside the TOC’s control), or because another train (which may be from a different TOC) is running late? That's often been my experience.
I know that the Rail Minister Tom Harris (in July 2007) said Arriva's commitment to increase capacity – “it has promised a 35 per cent rise in the number of passenger seats on rush-hour trains by June 2009” - had played a key part in the award. Strange that he used the phrase “[Arriva] has promised to … “ when his department has so much control over whether they can keep that promise.
In short: we love to complain about the railways in this country. Our moans are generally directed at the company whose train we’re travelling on, but who’d want to run a railway company these days, with the messy structure we have? Just stand at a major junction station (say Leeds) and count how many trains arrive and depart every hour; many of them operated by different companies, and using track and signalling systems owned by yet another company. I rest my case.
Last Sunday I was travelling, as I often do, from Cheltenham to Bristol Temple Meads. This time I took the first train of the day, the 09.52; I had been surprised that there wasn’t anything earlier, but as the train was half-empty, the operator would no doubt have replied that there’s no demand for an earlier train on a Sunday.
You don’t have to be a railway fan, just a traveller, to know that the franchise for cross-country routes, particularly from my home in the South-West to the North-East and Scotland, is no longer held by Virgin Cross-Country but by the imaginatively named Cross-Country Trains. You might not also know that Cross-Country Trains is / are run by Arriva.
I was chatting to the very helpful guy running the shop (probably his title was Retail Manager or something like it.) I was keen to found out what differences the franchise change had made (I hadn’t observed too many, apart from a new and rather dull external colour scheme on the trains which they had taken over from Virgin) and he was very forthcoming. Yes, there was a definite improvement in the new company as seen from the viewpoint of the employees, all of who had transferred across from Virgin, like the trains.
I told Paul (not his real name) that my only beef about the change was that it had been reported that the main reason Virgin lost the franchise to Arriva (several years earlier than it was due to expire) was because of frequent complaints of overcrowding, i.e. insufficient capacity, but I had seen little change in that regard.
Paul however said that progress is being made and Arriva had just bought five renovated “HST sets”, i.e. the so-called High-Speed Trains. They’re widely used elsewhere in the country; I say “so-called” because the name is a misnomer on this part of the route, where average speeds are not that high due to the frequent bends. He said that these new acquisitions had been extensively renovated and were better than the “Voyager” trains that were previously the only trains on this route. I agreed that the HSTs were more comfortable and roomy, less noisy, and had more capacity compared with the four- and five coach Voyagers. I added that they also didn’t suffer from the smelly-loo syndrome of the Voyagers; the latter always remind me of the scene in the movie version of “Glengarry Glen Ross” when the Al Pacino character, holding forth in a bar, says: “all train carriages smell vaguely of shit. It gets so you don’t mind it. That’s the worst thing that I can confess. You know how long it took me to get there? A long time.”
Enough of movies: Paul told me that the five new trains (well, second-hand but renovated) were the most that “the Government” had allowed Arriva / Cross-Country to buy. That’s not the first time that I’ve heard “from the horse’s mouth”, i.e. from a railway employee, that the TOCs (Train Operating Companies) cannot make their own decisions about procurement of new trains and that new trains / rolling stock are allocated centrally. Makes you wonder about the thinking behind privatisation. It seems to be a typical British muddle. You sell off the railways, giving private companies local monopolies. However, their prices, i.e. fares, are controlled to a great extent in a way not many private enterprises are. Then you can take away their franchise if their services are overcrowded, i.e. they don’t have enough seating capacity (e.g. the Virgin Cross-Country case, plus threats of similar sanctions have probably been discussed with First Great Western) but if they want to buy new trains they are told they can’t. The FGW employee who first told me their hands were tied in this respect, said that most new trains are currently being allocated to routes serving the north, where FGW doesn’t operate. I don’t know how true that is. Furthermore, I know that late running can bring financial penalties, but how many times have you been on a train that is held up by a signalling problem (which is clearly outside the TOC’s control), or because another train (which may be from a different TOC) is running late? That's often been my experience.
I know that the Rail Minister Tom Harris (in July 2007) said Arriva's commitment to increase capacity – “it has promised a 35 per cent rise in the number of passenger seats on rush-hour trains by June 2009” - had played a key part in the award. Strange that he used the phrase “[Arriva] has promised to … “ when his department has so much control over whether they can keep that promise.
In short: we love to complain about the railways in this country. Our moans are generally directed at the company whose train we’re travelling on, but who’d want to run a railway company these days, with the messy structure we have? Just stand at a major junction station (say Leeds) and count how many trains arrive and depart every hour; many of them operated by different companies, and using track and signalling systems owned by yet another company. I rest my case.
Thursday, 12 March 2009
Pantomime as community
This week I am getting back to normal, after having been involved in a most wonderful local event. It was a pantomime: in early March moreover!
A pantomime in March is pretty unusual, and this was the first time I had been involved in this particular event. In fact I hadn’t been involved in thespian-type activities for longer than I can remember. Which means certainly 10 years, maybe 15. (those of you, like me, whose age is closer to 60 than 20 will identify with the syndrome whereby one always underestimates how long it is since you last saw such-and-such a person, or did such-and-such a thing, by at least 50%)
The famous Hotwells Panto always happens in March; years ago they very sensibly decided that the traditional period around Christmas is very crowded, whereas people’s diaries are less full in the first months of the New Year. I said it was famous; and that’s true if you live in or around Bristol (the one in England, that is) and take an interest in theatre. I hesitated to say “amateur theatre”, because this production was very professionally run in many ways. Nobody got paid, so in that sense it was certainly amateur. But then I have just remembered that the French word “amateur” simply means “lover of”. Everyone involved in this production certainly qualified in that sense.
I very nearly missed being involved. On 4 January I was walking the beautiful streets of Clifton – “handsomest suburb in Europe” as Betjeman called it, and I will not disagree with him on any matter, least of all this one. I happened to see a poster which read: “Hotwells Panto; Robin Hood; read-through and casting 4 January.” That very evening, in fact, but what struck me was that they were being very previous. Casting now for next Christmas, which is when pantos normally happen? So I went home and Googled it (“like you do”) and got loads of hits, including a half-page article from the “Independent” (a national paper in the UK, in case you’re reading this from anywhere else). The article claimed that the Hotwells Panto was the hot theatre ticket in Bristol, even above the city’s famous Bristol Old Vic. So I naturally had to go along to the read-through and see for myself. Now, two months later, and with the run having finished last Saturday, I can report that what I found was most impressive in many ways:
Longevity: this Panto has been running for nearly 30 years and it seems the vast majority of those involved have been involved for the vast majority of those years.
Commitment: there were, I believe, about 100 people involved, including cast, crew and those making costumes, scenery, props etc. The cast ranged from children of primary-school age to “seniors” like myself, although we were short of performers in their twenties. Any takers?
Local popularity: it’s very much seen as a community event, so all the seats for all four nights were sold out within days, as that article in the “Independent” had predicted. A total of well over 1000 seats went in double-quick time and as far as I know the show is not advertised.
Accessibility: despite that core of long-term involvees (is that a word? It is now), there is no clique culture. Despite being a total stranger off the street, so to speak, I was offered a great part. (see below)
Tradition: this Panto has developed its own traditions but it also sticks to the “traditional Panto” format, unlike many professional pantomimes that rely increasingly on hiring celebrities and recycling lots of smutty jokes. (This one had lots of witty double-entendres but that’s different from gratuitous use of four-letter words; this is supposed to be a family show, after all)
Quality: given top marks by a friend who came to help with makeup, then saw the show. This was her first exposure to the Hotwells Panto and she said it compared very favourably with many professional pantos to which she’d taken her children over the years.
Topicality: this is a major feature of Panto, whether amateur or professional. This year the theme was, of course, the credit crunch or recession or whatever you like to call it. That being the case, I was delighted to be offered the part of Baron Hardup: very much in line with the zeitgeist.
Creativity: in so many ways. For example, in a wonderful spoof on the TV show “Strictly Come Dancing”, all the male dancers were dummies, made and dressed by members of the “Ambras” – the female chorus of local legend and named after a nearby street. One dummy was Barack Obama, one was John Sargeant, referring to the British broadcaster’s recent “career” as a ballroom dancer. (http://www.bbc.co.uk/strictlycomedancing/contestants/john_sergeant.shtml)
Originality: anyone who liked Monty Python will recall the phrase “Nobody expected the Spanish Inquisition”. I certainly didn’t expect a troop of Vikings to appear in the middle of “Robin Hood”, and neither did the audience. But appear they did, with great impact and to the delight of the audience.
Laid-back production & direction (apart from the occasional but inevitable tantrum!) by Gill Loats and Amanda Webb. Not content with directing this one, they also direct the Southville Panto and Gill is also a producer with the professional “Show of Strength” theatre company in the city.
A witty script produced by a team of writers, in a process developed over the years. The claim is that it’s written by locals for locals, and that is certainly true. One of the local issues that surfaced this year was the City Council’s controversial plan to bring in parking permits. The superbly villainous Sherriff of Nottingham, relating his taxation plans, says: “and I’m even going to tax them for parking their horses outside their own houses”. Then he adds with an evil grin: “of course there will first be a period of full consultation ……. dream on!” A good script needs people capable of delivering it, and the cast was full of such people. It’s well-known that a successful panto needs good people in the role of the villain and the Dame; this production had them. These and others were people who could have succeeded on the professional stage if they had chosen to.
To end on a serious note: we were all handed a questionnaire asking us for our feedback for a local research project investigating whether theatrical and similar events, such as this one, promote community adhesion. It seems clear to me that they do. Twenty years ago we lived in a village so small it had neither a school nor a village shop. However there was a real community spirit and, yes, there was a flourishing panto. Then we needed a larger house, so we moved to another village, similar in many ways but it wasn’t until we got there that we found much less of a sense of community … and, guess what, no panto. Did a panto help to create a community spirit or vice versa? Which was cause and which was effect? You tell me.
I feel privileged to have been part of such a great local institution as the Hotwells Panto, and especially to have been made so welcome, being a newcomer. If you want to know more, here’s the piece that appeared in the local paper, the Bristol Evening Post, last week. Granted, local papers are rarely negative about amateur shows, but even so, it’s worth a read: http://www.thisisbristol.co.uk/seven/Hotwells-pantomime/article-732338-detail/article.html
A pantomime in March is pretty unusual, and this was the first time I had been involved in this particular event. In fact I hadn’t been involved in thespian-type activities for longer than I can remember. Which means certainly 10 years, maybe 15. (those of you, like me, whose age is closer to 60 than 20 will identify with the syndrome whereby one always underestimates how long it is since you last saw such-and-such a person, or did such-and-such a thing, by at least 50%)
The famous Hotwells Panto always happens in March; years ago they very sensibly decided that the traditional period around Christmas is very crowded, whereas people’s diaries are less full in the first months of the New Year. I said it was famous; and that’s true if you live in or around Bristol (the one in England, that is) and take an interest in theatre. I hesitated to say “amateur theatre”, because this production was very professionally run in many ways. Nobody got paid, so in that sense it was certainly amateur. But then I have just remembered that the French word “amateur” simply means “lover of”. Everyone involved in this production certainly qualified in that sense.
I very nearly missed being involved. On 4 January I was walking the beautiful streets of Clifton – “handsomest suburb in Europe” as Betjeman called it, and I will not disagree with him on any matter, least of all this one. I happened to see a poster which read: “Hotwells Panto; Robin Hood; read-through and casting 4 January.” That very evening, in fact, but what struck me was that they were being very previous. Casting now for next Christmas, which is when pantos normally happen? So I went home and Googled it (“like you do”) and got loads of hits, including a half-page article from the “Independent” (a national paper in the UK, in case you’re reading this from anywhere else). The article claimed that the Hotwells Panto was the hot theatre ticket in Bristol, even above the city’s famous Bristol Old Vic. So I naturally had to go along to the read-through and see for myself. Now, two months later, and with the run having finished last Saturday, I can report that what I found was most impressive in many ways:
Longevity: this Panto has been running for nearly 30 years and it seems the vast majority of those involved have been involved for the vast majority of those years.
Commitment: there were, I believe, about 100 people involved, including cast, crew and those making costumes, scenery, props etc. The cast ranged from children of primary-school age to “seniors” like myself, although we were short of performers in their twenties. Any takers?
Local popularity: it’s very much seen as a community event, so all the seats for all four nights were sold out within days, as that article in the “Independent” had predicted. A total of well over 1000 seats went in double-quick time and as far as I know the show is not advertised.
Accessibility: despite that core of long-term involvees (is that a word? It is now), there is no clique culture. Despite being a total stranger off the street, so to speak, I was offered a great part. (see below)
Tradition: this Panto has developed its own traditions but it also sticks to the “traditional Panto” format, unlike many professional pantomimes that rely increasingly on hiring celebrities and recycling lots of smutty jokes. (This one had lots of witty double-entendres but that’s different from gratuitous use of four-letter words; this is supposed to be a family show, after all)
Quality: given top marks by a friend who came to help with makeup, then saw the show. This was her first exposure to the Hotwells Panto and she said it compared very favourably with many professional pantos to which she’d taken her children over the years.
Topicality: this is a major feature of Panto, whether amateur or professional. This year the theme was, of course, the credit crunch or recession or whatever you like to call it. That being the case, I was delighted to be offered the part of Baron Hardup: very much in line with the zeitgeist.
Creativity: in so many ways. For example, in a wonderful spoof on the TV show “Strictly Come Dancing”, all the male dancers were dummies, made and dressed by members of the “Ambras” – the female chorus of local legend and named after a nearby street. One dummy was Barack Obama, one was John Sargeant, referring to the British broadcaster’s recent “career” as a ballroom dancer. (http://www.bbc.co.uk/strictlycomedancing/contestants/john_sergeant.shtml)
Originality: anyone who liked Monty Python will recall the phrase “Nobody expected the Spanish Inquisition”. I certainly didn’t expect a troop of Vikings to appear in the middle of “Robin Hood”, and neither did the audience. But appear they did, with great impact and to the delight of the audience.
Laid-back production & direction (apart from the occasional but inevitable tantrum!) by Gill Loats and Amanda Webb. Not content with directing this one, they also direct the Southville Panto and Gill is also a producer with the professional “Show of Strength” theatre company in the city.
A witty script produced by a team of writers, in a process developed over the years. The claim is that it’s written by locals for locals, and that is certainly true. One of the local issues that surfaced this year was the City Council’s controversial plan to bring in parking permits. The superbly villainous Sherriff of Nottingham, relating his taxation plans, says: “and I’m even going to tax them for parking their horses outside their own houses”. Then he adds with an evil grin: “of course there will first be a period of full consultation ……. dream on!” A good script needs people capable of delivering it, and the cast was full of such people. It’s well-known that a successful panto needs good people in the role of the villain and the Dame; this production had them. These and others were people who could have succeeded on the professional stage if they had chosen to.
To end on a serious note: we were all handed a questionnaire asking us for our feedback for a local research project investigating whether theatrical and similar events, such as this one, promote community adhesion. It seems clear to me that they do. Twenty years ago we lived in a village so small it had neither a school nor a village shop. However there was a real community spirit and, yes, there was a flourishing panto. Then we needed a larger house, so we moved to another village, similar in many ways but it wasn’t until we got there that we found much less of a sense of community … and, guess what, no panto. Did a panto help to create a community spirit or vice versa? Which was cause and which was effect? You tell me.
I feel privileged to have been part of such a great local institution as the Hotwells Panto, and especially to have been made so welcome, being a newcomer. If you want to know more, here’s the piece that appeared in the local paper, the Bristol Evening Post, last week. Granted, local papers are rarely negative about amateur shows, but even so, it’s worth a read: http://www.thisisbristol.co.uk/seven/Hotwells-pantomime/article-732338-detail/article.html
Wednesday, 4 March 2009
Non-retirement
I "retired" last July. I use the quotation marks advisedly; what I mean is that I retired from full-time work and from being on someone else's payroll. I personally don't like the R-word; sounds too final for my taste.
A friend I'd invited to my retirement party (there we go: the R-word again) asked "aren't you nervous about this? It’s a big change.” Yes, it is a big change, but one I was looking forward to. And most of the people I know who have recently retired or are contemplating it, seem to welcome it; but by no means all of them. Some were looking forward to more time playing golf or just taking it easy in general; others had lots of projects lined up and I was in the latter group. Some, on the other hand, contemplate the prospect with uncertainty at the very least. After all, it’s not just the financial implications; it’s the loss of structure and, for many people, (particularly men) a large part of their identity.
Then there’s the group that were worried about it in advance but pretty soon realised the benefits; like a man I met last week who said he’d been dreading retirement but within 7 days was wondering why he’d been concerned. Maybe he hadn’t had a plan of how he would fill his days, but he soon realised there were already more other things in his life than he’d realised; or maybe he was just discovering lots of new activities, on the basis that nature abhors a vacuum. Like the retirees who use the old chestnut: “I don’t know how I ever had time to go to work.”
A few years ago I was in
I did already have a plan of sorts but my next question was: what kinds of things should "the plan" ideally contain? So that’s something I am researching at present, for my benefit and hopefully for readers of this blog too. I’ll be talking to people who have retired, are planning to retire, or maybe just have it on the distant horizon. I will also be bearing in mind the wise words of Charles Handy, who coined the term “portfolio working” – a principle that I have found a great inspiration for more than 10 years now and which I’ll explain in forthcoming blogs. The beautiful thing is that portfolio working survives retirement. Watch this space!
If you haven’t heard of portfolio working and want to know about the principle, check out Handy’s “The Age of Unreason.” (Harvard Business School Press, 1998) It’s also referred to briefly in his autobiographical “Myself and Other More Important Matters” (Arrow Books, 2006)
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Radio Ga Ga?
No, not the title of the Queen hit (though that’s a great track anyway in my book) but the tale of a retired (and therefore maybe slightly gaga) person (strike that; I prefer the American term “senior”, as in the T-shirt I saw in Pike Place market in Seattle, proudly stating: “I’m a senior; give me my damn discount”) and a project to renew his acquaintance with radio presenting.
A few years ago I was a presenter (all right, DJ if you prefer) on Hereford Hospital Radio. Great times, although I often wondered how many people actually listened to our programmes. I don’t recall that we ever did any in-depth market research to answer that question. Maybe we were afraid of what the answer might be and anyway we were all having too good a time. So, as I am no longer a wage-slave / salary-man / whatever you like to call it, I thought I might take it up again.
The local hospital radio organisation in Bristol, where I now live, took ages getting back to me, so I tried the newer community radio station, Bristol Community FM. So far I have been impressed with the comprehensiveness of the training they are offering for us six volunteer inductees. In fact during the very first training evening we were told that at the end of just four training sessions of two and a half hours each, we needed to be ready to record a one-hour pilot show. Provided that show meets BCFM’s criteria, especially with regard to having a Bristol angle, it’ll be broadcast and could lead to a regular slot in the schedule.
When given this unexpected and prompot challenge, my off the cuff response was this: one of the things I have enjoyed most in the five years I have been here in Bristol is the quality and variety of the live music scene; much of it in pubs and other informal venues; all inexpensive or free. I have seen so many very talented performers who don’t make their living from music, maybe because they are in less-commercial genres, but maybe because they would prefer the music to be a part-time activity. But I have also seen performers who are full-time musicians but have been happy to perform in pubs, including Andy Shepherd, a legend of the jazz saxophone for years and Beth Rowley, who’s gone from pub gigs to #4 in the album charts in very short while. I though I could interview musicians on both sides of the financial divide and investigate what makes the difference, as well as talking to venue owners and of course playing some music, both live and studio recordings. So far so good; however it turned out that four of the six of us on the course wanted to present a show focused on the local music scene, albeit different genres in some cases. I was thus persuaded partly buy my better judgement and partly by the station, to propose a second option.
Before I retired (sorry, that word again) I had spent the last 5 years of my full-time work in the employ of The Stroke Association and the last two of those was in media relations; placing stories about stroke and stroke survivors and being interviewed on radio and television. During that work I had met some really fantastic people who had fought back from the often devastating effects of this condition and none them more so than a Jamaican-born Bristolian called Lafrance Gordon. This man was introduced to me by the local Black Development Agency who said, “We have here a very charismatic stroke survivor who could be a banner-carrier for you.” How right they were; I set up more broadcast interviews with Lafrance (many of which I did with him) than pretty well all the other stroke survivors in my region (the whole of the South) put together.
Doing those interviews I earned more about a fact that I’d already known: that people of Afro-Caribbean and South Asian background are significantly moiré at risk from stroke than are white people. What’s more, there are large gaps in awareness in those communities, as Lafrance showed me.
As stroke is the nation’s #3 killer and its #1 cause of severe disability, I thus decided that the most worthwhile subject for the pilot would be this very topic. I’d been in touch with many of the local experts on stroke both in the NHS and the charity sector, and I could interview all those as well as Lafrance and other stroke survivors. Finally I could salt the mix (sorry, spice it up, as salt is a no-no) with musical requests from the interviewees.
Watch this space!
A few years ago I was a presenter (all right, DJ if you prefer) on Hereford Hospital Radio. Great times, although I often wondered how many people actually listened to our programmes. I don’t recall that we ever did any in-depth market research to answer that question. Maybe we were afraid of what the answer might be and anyway we were all having too good a time. So, as I am no longer a wage-slave / salary-man / whatever you like to call it, I thought I might take it up again.
The local hospital radio organisation in Bristol, where I now live, took ages getting back to me, so I tried the newer community radio station, Bristol Community FM. So far I have been impressed with the comprehensiveness of the training they are offering for us six volunteer inductees. In fact during the very first training evening we were told that at the end of just four training sessions of two and a half hours each, we needed to be ready to record a one-hour pilot show. Provided that show meets BCFM’s criteria, especially with regard to having a Bristol angle, it’ll be broadcast and could lead to a regular slot in the schedule.
When given this unexpected and prompot challenge, my off the cuff response was this: one of the things I have enjoyed most in the five years I have been here in Bristol is the quality and variety of the live music scene; much of it in pubs and other informal venues; all inexpensive or free. I have seen so many very talented performers who don’t make their living from music, maybe because they are in less-commercial genres, but maybe because they would prefer the music to be a part-time activity. But I have also seen performers who are full-time musicians but have been happy to perform in pubs, including Andy Shepherd, a legend of the jazz saxophone for years and Beth Rowley, who’s gone from pub gigs to #4 in the album charts in very short while. I though I could interview musicians on both sides of the financial divide and investigate what makes the difference, as well as talking to venue owners and of course playing some music, both live and studio recordings. So far so good; however it turned out that four of the six of us on the course wanted to present a show focused on the local music scene, albeit different genres in some cases. I was thus persuaded partly buy my better judgement and partly by the station, to propose a second option.
Before I retired (sorry, that word again) I had spent the last 5 years of my full-time work in the employ of The Stroke Association and the last two of those was in media relations; placing stories about stroke and stroke survivors and being interviewed on radio and television. During that work I had met some really fantastic people who had fought back from the often devastating effects of this condition and none them more so than a Jamaican-born Bristolian called Lafrance Gordon. This man was introduced to me by the local Black Development Agency who said, “We have here a very charismatic stroke survivor who could be a banner-carrier for you.” How right they were; I set up more broadcast interviews with Lafrance (many of which I did with him) than pretty well all the other stroke survivors in my region (the whole of the South) put together.
Doing those interviews I earned more about a fact that I’d already known: that people of Afro-Caribbean and South Asian background are significantly moiré at risk from stroke than are white people. What’s more, there are large gaps in awareness in those communities, as Lafrance showed me.
As stroke is the nation’s #3 killer and its #1 cause of severe disability, I thus decided that the most worthwhile subject for the pilot would be this very topic. I’d been in touch with many of the local experts on stroke both in the NHS and the charity sector, and I could interview all those as well as Lafrance and other stroke survivors. Finally I could salt the mix (sorry, spice it up, as salt is a no-no) with musical requests from the interviewees.
Watch this space!
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