Category: Reviews

Reviews of books. exhibitions, and other stuff I have seen.

Cyrano

June 21, 2026

We went to see Cyrano de Bergerac at the Noel Coward Theatre. It was pretty good: the adaptation is lively and Adrian Lester is a really good, convincing Cyrano. The last time I saw this play was 36 years ago with Edward Petherbridge, who definitely emphasised the poet in Cyrano, whereas Lester leans more to the warrior, but he’s balanced and reflects the character well. If I can risk sounding like a old git, I appreciated his delivery: I think some contemporary actors, used to TV and film, don’t really know how to project into a live theatre, but Lester’s voice and diction are exemplary, crystal clear to the back of the auditorium.

The play, to be honest, is a bit old-fashioned. The first scenes are unnecessarily confusing: the last act could be cut almost entirely. There are some creaking old dramatic devices at work: the people who are always interrupted just before they speak the words that would change everything: a character who gets a fatal wound and then walks and talks for another forty minutes before suddenly doing an elaborate, prolonged death. The big problem is with the credibility of the character’s motives. Roxane knows Cyrano all her life, but never suspects she might fancy him until she discovers he wrote all those words, when she instantly realises she loves him. She declares explicitly that she loves the man who wrote those words ‘in spite of his face’ even while she still thinks it was handsome Christian, sounding more as if she were a character in a logic puzzle than a real person.

And what about Cyrano? His refusal to declare his love, his committed support of Christian? Roxane is allowed here to briefly suggest his behaviour is manipulative, but a modern audience, with darker and more sophisticated ideas than the Victorians, can’t help wondering whether Cyrano’s behaviour is perverse in a deeper sense, with him getting a certain secret pleasure out of the idea of his beloved in the arms of another. Still, the number of times the story has been borrowed and updated shows it is an appealing archetype.

Anyway, I recommend this production.

The Armed Man and more

June 3, 2026

Last Saturday we went to hear Karl Jenkins conduct The Armed Man at the Royal Festival Hall – he also played some extracts from Palladio and Adiemus. Good stuff: to me Jenkins, along with others such as Michael Nyman, stands for the welcome return of serious orchestral music that is melodic, not austerely intellectual, and not film music (though I suppose most of Nyman’s stuff is for films.

It’s true that Jenkins relies a lot on bright, uptempo stuff and there tends to be relatively little dramatic development within pieces: they set a mood and stick with it (maybe a bit like film music after all). He has also been a little brave in taking inspiration from other cultures – you don’t have to be extremely woke to wonder whether there’s something a bit off in people singing in a fake African language. We also had muezzin singing (why not, I suppose). On the whole I think Jenkins is just respectful enough to his sources to get away with it.

A very enjoyable afternoon, anyway.

Turner and Constable

April 9, 2026

This show at Tate Britain has a fantastic collection of works by both artists (but no Haywain, no Fighting Temeraire). There was a rivalry between the two, who were almost exactly the same age: sometimes friendly, sometimes with an edge. Turner was more radical and achieved recognition much earlier. He travelled more, and was more adventurous both in his range of subjects and in his techniques. Occasionally his love of drama led him to produce paintings that are slightly absurd or virtually incomprehensible (Moses writing Genesis in a weird foggy bubble). Constable’s rural scenes are much safer, but there is an insistence on the real that perhaps veils a hint of darkness. Constable preferred to paint direct from life until he realised that ‘six-footers’, which could only be painted in the studio, were what got him attention.

Turner is often mentioned as a precursor of Impressionism, but here we can see that Constable was also given to a free, loose style, especially later on in his career. When the Pre-Raphaelites came along, all of that was dumped: though they respected the older painters’ attention to Nature, they rejected ‘sloshy’ painting in favour of sharp edges and a realism filled with clear detail. I like the Pre-Raphaelites, but this exhibition makes it seem they took British art down a dead end, diverting it away from what might have been a British school of Impressionism and some memorable art.

Ram’ses

March 31, 2026

It is a strange quirk of fate that the best-known of the Pharaohs is probably Tutankhamun. That’s surely because his is the only ancient Egyptian burial treasure that has survived more or less intact, showing something of the incredible wealth and beauty of these funeral hoards. He was, however, a minor monarch, young and short-lived, at the end of a failing dynasty.

In the next dynasty, by contrast, and not all that long afterwards, there lived what may actually be the greatest Pharaoh of all: Ramesses II – or Ramses, it seems both variants are equally accepted. I’m going to make matters worse by calling him Ram’ses. At Battersea Power Station there is currently an exhibition devoted to him, and we visited.

While Tut’s treasure has attracted blockbuster crowds all over the world, Ram’ses’s funereal collection, probably much more opulent, was lost to tomb raiders, though his mummy was discovered later. So what can you feature in an exhibition? The curators have actually done fairly well. Luckily Ram’ses commissioned hundreds of statues and monuments during his unusually long reign, and in fact it’s one of his portraits that features in the famous poem Ozymandias (his name in Greek). So the exhibition features a number of depictions of the Pharaoh and his family, especially his first and favourite wife Nefertari (he had hundreds of wives and concubines). We can also see depictions of him in battle, with his pet lion running alongside his chariot. Ram’ses scored many solid victories, but the one he was proudest of, the battle of Kadesh against the Hittites, is generally regarded as more of a draw.

The exhibition does rely on a number of artefacts from earlier and later periods. Most of the jewellery here (not all that much gold, in spite of what the publicity says) is the sort of thing Nefertari might have worn, but actually from decades or centuries before or after her time. This is OK given the amazing stability of Egyptian culture, which changed little over three thousand years. In fact one interesting thing here is the way Ram’ses reconditioned statues from long before, having a thousand-year-old lady recarved to represent his mother: we also see art made for Ram’ses that much later kings appropriated in a similar way.

Less grand than other exhibits but highly interesting are a few ink sketches on stone by some of the artists who worked for Ram’ses. These are less formal than typical Egyptian art and convey a more vivid sense of the artist’s individual humanity.

All in all, well worth a look.

Samurai

March 11, 2026

Apparently they are more commonly referred to as Bushi in Japan? We went to see the British Museum’s exhibition which explains the long history of the Samurai. Beginning as medieval warriors, they effectively became the Japanese upper class until their abolition in the late nineteenth century, when the rule of the Emperor was restored and the Shogunate brought to an end.

Like their aristocratic counterparts in Europe, the Samurai retained an affection for swords and suits of armour. One set of Samurai armour here was sent to King James (I and VI) who would surely have understood the double significance of the compliment and warning it embodied. Another suit was later sent to Queen Victoria. While they retained a sense of themselves as warriors, the Samurai developed an interest in drama and culture generally, which may have helped while away the days they were required to attend the court at Edo (rather the way Louis XIV made the French nobility come to Versailles?) As a whole social class they naturally included valiant women, and it seems gay and/or cross-dressing young men were not unknown.

The exhibition features a wide range of fabulous and illuminating artefacts, but it is those extraordinary helmets that are really the stars. They are elaborately decorated with dragons, birds, and a finely worked butterfly, and there is one with leaves that Katharine said resembled a pixie hat. One Samurai seems to have been unable to decide between horns and a massive fist – so he got both. These all seem rather impractical: European knights had fancy tournament armour with decoration and crests, but when it came to an actual fight they were inclined to switch to the plain, streamlined steel that best deflected blades and points. It seems that in Japan being visible and showing high status was more important than guiding weapons away from your cranium. The followers of each Daimyo (top Samurai) had a different style of cover for the heads of their spears, and apparently there were actually spotter’s reference books, so you could identify which great lord was passing by on the weary trip to or from Edo.

Very interesting. Here is King James wearing his Samurai armour (this never happened).

Perfection

March 6, 2026

I read Vincenzo Latronico’s book Perfection, about a young Italian couple who move to Berlin, where they live a highly fashionable life, working as web designers, going to trendy bars and restaurants, making friends with an international community of highly mobile young professionals, and above all, owning a series of beautiful objects that help create stunning pictures for their Instagram feed. It’s inspired by Georges Perec’s Things. The book is clever and very readable, and I recommend it – it was shortlisted for the International Booker and received well-deserved praise.

It’s a very believable account set in a specific time and place which Latronico must surely have experienced, full of neat, exact references. The theme, lightly but clearly outlined, is the contrast between a life that looks perfect ‘in the pictures’ but as lived falls a little short of ideal and becomes subtly unrewarding in a way the couple find hard to address.

Stylistically, it is highly unusual, consisting entirely of generalised descriptions of the sort of thing the couple do, the kind of meals they eat, what types of people tend to become their friends (few Germans) and so on. There is no dialogue or directly described action, and we are frequently told about feelings and moods they often felt. The narrative stays at this high level of generality throughout. It works fine, but I can’t help thinking how the tutor on a creative writing course, or some publisher offering feedback would respond. Why not have someone murdered, they might suggest, then the reader has a story to draw them through all this lovely description? Could you relate an argument they have over soft furnishings or something, just to bring these brand references to life? Have you ever heard of Joseph Campbell and the Hero’s Journey?

This is a very successful, celebrated book, but you and I could never get away with writing like this. You have to ask, how did Latronico ever get a literary agent to take this on? The answer seems to be – he married one.

Seurat

February 19, 2026

We went to the Seurat exhibition at the Courtauld. It is a small, focused show, featuring a series of paintings he did of ports and landscapes along the Channel coast, including some preparatory sketches. This gives a good opportunity to make comparisons and see the development of his technique.

Seurat of course was the leading exponent of pointillism, in which the picture is built up from hundreds of dots of unmixed colour. One aspect of the method that I hadn’t appreciated is that dots of the opposite colour are always included, so for example in a blue area there will be some dots of orange. This is meant to give a special vibrancy to the colour. Often it really does, lending a unique luminosity to the paintings, but I thought in other cases it was less effective. Seen from a distance those less successful works look very much like straight, accurately realistic pictures.

We’ve seen Seurat’s pictures before, and in fact the Courtauld itself has several on display that are not part of the current show. But the consistency of subject and the interesting sketches here make it an illuminating exhibition.

Mozart at the RFH

January 26, 2026

We went to an enjoyable concert consisting of the Overture to the Magic Flute, Piano Concerto no. 21, and the Requiem. Music this popular is often used as a lure to get audiences to listen to something more obscure, but this was pure pleasure.

I remember being shocked when I first discovered that the usual version of the Requiem is a completion of a work Mozart never finished himself. Whether or not he really came to think of it as music for his own funeral, it’s impossible not to be reminded of his early death, which certainly deprived us of some of the greatest classical music never written. Imagine the results of an extended rivalry between Mozart and Beethoven, each needling the other into constantly raising their game, like some Romantic era Lennon and McCartney…

Woman In Mind

December 11, 2025

We went to see the new production of Woman In Mind, the Alan Ayckbourn classic, staring Sheridan Smith as Susan and with Romesh Ranganathan as Bill Windsor. It’s a great show and I recommend it: funnily enough my only reservations are about the play itself. There are some spoilers in what follows.

The story is in essence about a woman losing her mind. In the early stages her delusional and at first ideal life contrasts with the depressing reality, as she switches between the two. I would have liked a neat resolution to all this, but we don’t get one: instead the delusions get stronger, less controllable and less pleasant and eventually swallow her up.

I said one side of the story is the depressing reality of her life, but in fact our faith in the reality of even the ‘real’ parts is gradually undermined (or at least, mine was). Bill Windsor seems to move across gradually from sensible reality to florid delusion. Muriel the sister-in-law seems like a caricature, too completely awful to be a real person. The behaviour of Susan’s son is not depressing in normal ways but bizarre, and seems to revolve around her, even if in a most negative way. So perhaps in the end we are to realise that the entire play is the record of a set of growing delusions that reflect reality only in a distorted way. That can still be interesting, but I think a little less than a play that does engage with real life effectively.

Grayson Perry Delusions

July 18, 2025

Delusions of Grandeur at the Wallace Collection is an exhibition in which Grayson Perry reacts to the items in the museum. It got lukewarm reviews when it opened, perhaps because of a lack of coherence. Certainly Perry makes things complicated. We know that context changes the significance and even the value of art, and he likes to control that context by inventing new artists to be the ‘creators’ of some of his work – arguably even ‘Grayson Perry’ is one. Here apart from personas we have seen before he introduces the artist Shirley Smith, also the deluded Honourable Millicent Wallace who believes herself to be the true heir to the Wallace Collection. This opens the way to many reflections on the palatial and the ladylike. He complicates things further by bringing in the work of two real outsider artists, Madge Gill (whose stuff was exhibited here in its own right when the galleries had been emptied in WWII) and Alois Corbaz. So there is no simple story to the exhibition: but how could there be? The collection is complex and so is Perry, and this is the shadow thrown by the former on the latter (or vice versa, or both). This unmanageable complexity is acknowledged right at the beginning by a figure of a Man of Stories who has narrative threads literally bursting out of him.

Coherent or not, Perry is never uninteresting, and there are some nice things here, notably a helmet and figure in armour that are a tribute to the Wallace’s formidable collection of arms and armour, but also great objects in themselves. The ‘tapestries’ Perry goes in for these days are less successful in my eyes. Whisper it quietly, but perhaps the best stuff is the pots.

Not for everyone – you probably know already whether you like Perry’s stuff or not – but I enjoyed it.