5 ITAKE the bloody photo
will you? The lood's going cold! Lite in pre-revolutionary Russia as recorded by the camera ot the writer. painter and
. photographer Leonid , Andreyev. The torty rare
colour plates will be on show at the Street Level Gallery, Glasgow. 7-29
Q Apr. See Art Listings page j 53.
I Aww no! lte’s taken us back to 1978! We'll hivtae
weartlares and sing ‘We're
on the march wi' Ally’s army.’ What a nightmare! Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. in which an old man takes two kids back in time via a telephone box, will be at Glasgow and
‘ Edinburgh 0deons.See E Filmlndex page15.
It was the best of times, it was the worst oftimes. Scotland had massacred Argentina. but Bruce Forsyth was back on the box. In a small slum just below the Castle. a hunched, hobbling hombre tried to scrape a crust as a scribe. Wherever he peddled his wares however, the cry was the same: ‘Gardez l’eau.’ and ‘there. put that in your Shortlist.” Which he did.
Theatre critics are a queer lot, their lives dedicated to service with a simile, rather than with a smile. Recently, there have been very lew smiles exchanged between them and Scotland‘s theatre companies. Bearing the brunt ol the animosity was Ann-Marie Di Mambro's warm but salt-centred play, Tally’s Blood. In an ettortto lend them ott, lain ‘Champion at the People' Heggle bravely took on the wee bastions ol the Arts pages. l-le, quite rightly, detended theatre companies trom the charge at not being experimental enough while the critics barked back that the Traverse was no place torsoap opera.
To make sale the streets once more, The Observer Scotland has organised a one-day conterence on Saturday 7 April to discuss whether aesthetic standards matter to anyone other than the critics, especially when Joe Punter is ilocking to see shows which have been panned in the press. Uniortunately tor The Observer, neither the director nor author of the show which sparked the whole debate will be in attendance. However, lain lteggie will be moseying on into town tor the bunlight at the OS Corral. Plus, a cortege ot critics are bound to be around to discuss the impact that they have. Names being bandied about include w. Gordon Smith, Elaine C. Smith, Gerry Mulgrew, Joyce McMillan and Stuart Cosgrove. It could well be worth calling in at the Tron Theatre (10am—4pm), it you worry about such things. Alternatively, you could iust stay at home and examine your navel.
Scotland's first Acid House rave took place last Saturday. Going one better than their English counterparts. who tend to get trapped on orbital motorways on their way to rural raves. the Scots‘ version was held on the top deck of a bus chugging up the M74. In fact the participants were the severely ‘tired and emotional' day trippers to Blackpool. led by the Mad (‘owgate brigade from Shaver's Weekly. 'l'heir Blackpool binge was based on the kind of drinking at which even ()liver Reid would turn up his stomach. Despite this, there was only one casualty: missing. presumed drunk.
Mr X (he couldn‘t recall his name) was last seen wandering along the sands asking bemused Lancastrians why the Castle had so many lights on It.
Just what exactly do The Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester, intend to do with entries lor their Playwriting Competition? Not a lot-judging by the logo they have chosen to advertise it. Instead oi a beacon ot hope tor starving scribblers they otterthe inspiring picture oi a broken empty waste paper basket. Presumably waiting to receive the tons oi typed paper that the judges wish to hurl in it. Why not simply cutout the middle man and bin your own? Maybe they don’t expect the standard to be very high, but there must be a subtler way at advertising the iact. It’s like trying to get people to visit Scotland by seducing them with Peter Morrison records.
Aberdonians are often accused. quite wrongly ofcourse. ofbeing parochial. Fair enough. the local paper does have the habit of reporting world news only if an Aberdonian is involved. For example. when the Titanic sank. The Press and Journal's headline was purported to be ‘Aberdeen man drowns at sea‘. The latest example comes from the administrator of a Traverse show on tour. The Edinburgh quine had been talking to the janitor at the Kemnay village hall for half an hour when he suddenly picked up on her ‘foreign tongue'. ‘Ye‘re nae fae roon here though are ye lassie'.’ Are you fae lnverurie or fit‘."
The Stage, the paper tor ‘resting‘ thespians, has recently been betraying disturbing Jacobite sympathies. In the latest issue it reiers to Scotland as a ‘Principality’. Now, either it believes that showing support tor the late Bonnie Prince Charlie will boost their sales here or they really do think that we have a Prince at our own. In that case who do they think it is? Malcolm Rilkind? Kenny Dalglish? Or maybe they consider Pat Kane is the Scottish version oi Prince Charles?
The List m 1‘) April 19903