Vocal Point

The cultural delights on offer in Leeds never fail to surprise me. Having enjoyed Northern Ballet Theatre’s updated version of Romeo & Juliet, we were lucky enough to pop across to the Howard Assembly Rooms to catch the last day of Janet Cardiff’s rather stirring sound installation ‘Voices: A Forty Part Motet’. Forty individual speakers magnificently capture the solo intricacies involved in Thomas Tallis’ piece ‘Spem in alium’, originally designed for eight choirs of five voices. Sit, or lie (as many visitors do) in the middle and it is the closest thing, I can only imagine, to being within the booming epicentre of a real choir. If you chose to inspect individual speakers, you can not only grasp the intricate measure and tonal perfection of each voice, but also, if you catch their idle chatter before the piece begins, you can even hear them cough, advise and talk to one another. An invigorating experience, I hope it comes back.

As for the ballet, I was amazed to discover that the Northern Ballet Theatre - based in Leeds and possibly the country’s most pre-eminent dance company spanning a globe-trotting forty years - prepare for their next ballet while simultaneously performing their current one. Not only that, but the performers mix up the roles, so depending on which performance you see, my Mercutio could be your Romeo. I guess this helps to balance what must be a rather punishing schedule, and goes a long way to understanding the abundance of talent there is within the company.


I feel that I should jump to the defence of Lady Gaga, not just because she’s clearly ace and possibly the most interesting thing to happen to pop music since Madonna did all that monochrome stuff during her Exotica period, but mainly because some slightly misguided scribes have really been sticking the Stilettos in of late. Apart from a couple of good tracks, I don’t really get Ms Gaga’s musical appeal, but I certainly get everything else: the outlandish “oh no she didn’t” get up, enough to make Liberace look like a soiled tramp, and her equally cryptic and compelling persona, brilliantly personified in her teacup sketch on ‘Friday Night with Jonathan Ross', which saw the TV host squirm in his seat and first enamoured this batty woman into all of our humdrum British hearts.

But “so much for Lady Gaga’s feminist credentials”, says Hermione Hoby in last Sunday’s Observer, who was heartbroken to find Gaga cupping her bosom in a topless photo shoot for Q magazine. Before I get into questioning what on earth a once Britpop-championing institution like Q is doing putting pop’s first Lady on their cover (following on from a previous issue's dubious choice of a black leather porcupine-esque Cheryl Cole with the caption “Cheryl rocks” - like, what the hell is happening here?), it’s the misogynistic lads mag appeal that Hoby is taking offence too, and more specifically, that her “jutted hip, parted lips and vacuous expression tick the remaining boxes that constitute the mainstream image of sexy.”

But I don’t think Hoby is giving Gaga even half as much credit. Someone who went out in Knightsbridge the other day wearing a lobster on her head and a transparent nurse outfit with electrical tape over her nipples is evidently someone who is challenging “the mainstream image of sexy” and this is something that she has done from the start - clearly Hoby must have held her in much higher feminist regard beforehand, you know, when she did all those gigs in nothing but a turquoise leotard. And it’s quite impossible to clearly define someone like Gaga who goes out her way to avoid "ticking the boxes": yes, she’s clearly topless on the cover of this month’s Q, but I’m pretty sure her elongated fingers are down the front of her trousers, producing a dildo-shaped dong in her pants. Well, you certainly won’t find that on the front of Nuts magazine, that’s all I’m saying. Perhaps in Hoby’s too-quick-to-judge riposte she may have slightly missed the point. Here's the original article anyway: http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/musicblog/2010/feb/28/lady-gaga-feminist-credentials.


In Radio Head: Up and Down the Dial of British Radio, John Osborne sums up BBC 6 Music as bridging the gap between people who feel too old for Radio 1, but not yet old enough for Radio 2. People like me, basically. It plays an eclectic mix of mostly great music from some of the country's best DJs, and George Lamb. As well as the brilliant Adam and Joe, there is also Steve Lamacq, Gideon Coe, Stuart Maconie, Lauren Laverne: all exceptional talent who clearly revel in working within an environment that doesn't seem to be too hung up on playlists or minding your manners.

DJs of this calibre are hardly going to be left homeless in a year's time when the station is set to be decommissioned, but I find it hard to believe that these personalities will suddenly be happy to start hawking the latest Taylor Swift single when they've been able to play the Pixies for the past few years. Which makes the whole decision of cutting 6 Music and BBC Asian Network (not to mention a vast percentage of the BBC's online content) to focus more on their main radio stations (that’s Radios 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5) even more perplexing. So, let me get this right, in order to be more brilliant, the BBC is cutting things that are already brilliant? Eh?

The arguments in favour of this decision talk of the benefits for commercial radio, and given that the BBC own so much of the radio pie their competitors have to fight for the remaining slices. This is felt more at a regional level, where commercial stations are really struggling. But who is saying that there needs to be a limit on these things? Digital stations and the internet has blown radio wide open. Surely now only the best radio stations with the best content and a complete understanding of their market will be sure to survive. This again makes the elbowing of 6 Music and BBC Asian Network even more confusing. Being so niche, I hardly think that stations like Virgin and Magic are going to benefit from their absence whatsoever. Get rid of the local stations and, yes, maybe they would.

Surely in this global audio market where it is very easy people to listen to what is being broadcast right now from Iraq to Israel, from Norwich to Nebraska, the fact that the Beeb should be at their best is even more relevant, not downsizing in an attempt to filter their content. In Radio Head, Osborne asks the radio critic for the 'Radio Times', Jane Anderson, whether there are too many radio station. "That's like saying there are too many books." So if this was merely a cost-cutting exercise, can't we just assume that they will spend the money improving stations that are already fine as they are? Maybe Radio 2 can fill the 6 Music void and I'm just getting in a bit of tizz over nothing. But I find it very hard to imagine Steve Wright discussing the importance of The Wedding Present before spinning the new Peaches single.


I managed to humiliate myself quite convincingly on BBC Leeds the other day, where I present a 20 minute, fortnightly look at the new cinematic and DVD releases. An impromptu Oscar-related quiz occurred after ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ by Van Morrison, and I lost to Johnny I’Anson’s ever-pleasant co-host Isma Almas. For someone who is recruited for their knowledge of film, this is humiliating to say the least. I’ve always watched people squirm under the pressure of answering seemingly redundant questions on TV shows normally presented by people like Ant and Dec and Dale Winton and yelling at the screen for knowing the answers to the easiest of questions, but I have now developed renewed sympathy for the sort of pressure these people must be under.

So I’ll offer my predictions for tonight’s Academy Awards, which I’ll be watching, more for revision purposes than entertainment. And if any of them are indeed correct, try not to act too surprised.

Best Picture
My choice: The Hurt Locker - A real seat-of-the-pants nerve jangler set during the Iraq war which, for such a relevant concept, side steps political comment in favour of the psychological repercussions of conflict and the relationship between recruits.
And the Oscar goes to… Avatar - For costing so much bloody money

Best Actor
My choice: Colin Firth - Sensitive, intelligent, well-measured and well-tailored performance in A Single Man from an actor who hardens his synonymously wet Brit routine into something altogether more troubling.
And the Oscar goes to… Jeff Bridges - He’s an all round good egg and plays his own country music.

Best Actress My choice: Carey Mulligan - Bolstered by a Nick Hornby script for An Education, she’s a newbie with plenty of charm and talent, but perhaps an Oscar is stretching it a bit.
And the Oscar goes to… Sandra Bullock - Have you heard her Texan accent? That ought to just about tip it.

Best Supporting Actor
My choice: Christoph Waltz - For being the most sublimely creepy Nazi since that guy who’s face came off at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, he was easily the best thing in Tarantino’s absurdist war comedy.
And the Oscar goes to… Christoph Waltz - Easily, I should imagine.

Best Supporting Actress My choice: Mo’Nique - She’s a stand up comedian, believe it or not - her snarling, aggressive turn as the mother of Precious in Lee Daniels’ intense poverty piece is just about as bad as a mother can get.
And the Oscar goes to… Mo’Nique - And she doesn’t even plan on shaving her legs.

Best Director My choice: Kathryn Bigelow - For making great use of location, timing, and maintaining a knife-edge approach to suspense instead of investing all energy into bangs and whistles. Unlike her ex-husband, James Cameron, who will win this one easily.
And the Oscar goes to… James Cameron - He did spend a hell of a lot money.