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Showing posts from January, 2001

Process(ing)

First, the writing. It's a process, not an event.

It's typical that, on my last day before plunging myself back into the day job, I could now do with a good week working on my play. It was only yesterday and today that I garnered the momentum, first through a natural development in the story, and the second, because the script had a read through from four actors in Richmond. Having my words read out was both very helpful, and at times, particularly towards the end with one particular 'monologue', rather cringey. It's all good though and there seemed to be no doubt that the material was timely and relevant.

Another reason why I didn't get much done it during the week was because my uncle in the west of Ireland died. Suddenly I have no uncles left on either side. My Mum's four brothers all died within the last decade or so; all way short of the old three score and ten. My Dad had six brothers. Kieran was the last remaining. So it's true. Women do live lon…

BP Portrait Award

BP Portrait Award
Wim Heldens - first
Louis Smith - second
Ian Cumberland - third
Young Artist Award - Sertan Saltan

The first in the line up was Isobel Peachey's 'R.H.', a male friend whom she has captured in an almost eerie naturalism.
The first portrait that I felt emotionally overwhelmed by was Jan Mikula's 'Jakub', oil on canvas, but which is clearer than a high resolution photograph. Viewers were getting up as close as they could to examine the paintwork whilst slack-jawed before telling their neighbour 'astonishing'. It is apt, then, that Jakub is a documentary film maker - because this has to be the most authentic documentation of a person in oil that I've seen. A little girl, having stared at it a while, looked up to her mother and said 'that's freaky'.
Louis Smith's 'Holly', the second prize-winner is undoubtedly impressive, if only in size. The scene is based on the classic myth of Prometheus, who was chained to a rock b…