A colourful character Exclusive John Banville interview: Page 6
Inside: ■
Ham Sandwich ■ Sawdoctors ■ La Rocca ■ Darren Shan
n e r i S the
e 9 04.03.08 su Is | t en m le pp Su t en nm ai rt College Tribune Ente
2
Siren
MUSIC
TH E THE
College Tribune
4th March 2008
Siren the
ISSUE 9
Music “We certainly would have an affinity with Ireland’s past, but certainly not with the society of Ireland today” Primordial: P4
Comedy
“I thought, fuck this shit, accountants don’t get laid, comedians do”Paddy Courtney: P10
Automatic sounds
Having established themselves as one of the country’s most intriguing electro/pop ensembles, Autamata mastermind Ken McHugh tells Eoin Boyle about the composition process and the dedication that goes into generating the group’s special sound Autamata have been praised as one of the most interesting Irish acts of the last few years, and are now back in the limelight with their third album, Colours of Sound, which is due for release in early March. The acclaimed group is the brain-
Arts “You can do no more damage to a writer than to call him a writer’s writBanville speaks P6 er”
Radio “He started threatening me and then the guards had to call him off” Adrian Kennedy: P10
child of one Ken McHugh, who has spent a long time getting together the sound and the vision of what the group consists of. “I sit in the studio and I love what I do. I wrote a load of instrumental tracks initially, but right from the off I wanted Autamata to be a free enterprise, and I kind of did that with the first album, even by calling it My Sanctuary. It’s my thing and if people listen, then it’s great.” At the dawn of the band, it was a slow push to get things started, but McHugh did eventually find that he was getting totally immersed in the studio life, and began the process of building up Autamata as a whole, from the ground up. “A few mates were pushing me to do my own thing, so I set up a label to make my own music and whatnot, and I think the album was out a year before people started asking me if I would play it live. Once I started playing live, My Sanctuary was working out quite well but it was quite mellow and as I used to be in a rock band a few years ago, I just wanted to rock out a bit more. “When you do it live you want to kick it out, so that influenced the second record (Short Stories), and we wanted
to write songs that would work in the live arena.” The live aspect of the group is kept free by McHugh, who allows a degree of fluidity within the ranks of the live band, meaning a fan will never know who may be performing. “When I finish an album, I take it to play for whatever friends are around or free, and then I’ll basically go into rehearsals. I’ll get a drummer, a bass player, a guitar player and then we’ll start moulding the songs into something that’ll work live.” Autamata would possibly be most well-known for the collaborations that occur on each of their albums, ensuring a seriously broad range of sound. “People call it a collective or this and that, but whatever, at the end of the day it’s just me and my tunes. On this album, I have Carol Keogh singing on guest vocals again and Cathy Davey is back for a song. “We’ve been friends since she (Davey) worked on the first album. Both Carol and Cathy at the time, they were two girls whose voices I really liked and I felt it would work with the music I was making. I treat their voices as an extra instrument.” Tracks such as Clouds on the new release more than showcase the ability of such singers. “I like the tone and lyrical aspect, but also their unique thing that they bring to the affair. I just love what they do.” For Colours of Sound, the sound became a joining of the two styles that had made the previous albums so dif-
ferent to each other, and McHugh approaches the release of each as a completely individual project. “At the end of every two years I kind of think that I should release a new album, so I look through everything I’ve written, and of late more and more songs are coming out. I like albums that are a journey in themselves and I don’t get caught up in the mentality of ‘Ah, no, we’re not going to be able to play this live’ or that sort of thing.” The weather and seasons played their part in the record’s genesis too. “I actually finished it around August, I really felt that it was a very summery album so we just sat on it through the winter and we’ll bring it out in March when the sun is starting to come back out. I think it’ll be the perfect time for it.” McHugh is always busy in the studio, especially behind the producer’s desk and he already has the next album in the back of his mind, constantly working on the sound. “I’m a producer of other people’s work as well, but I love to go back to the studio and write songs on my own, it’s just more free. I sometimes get bored with other bands, they’ve one sound on the whole album and then the next album is exactly the same. I just care about making my songs and that’s it. I realized lately that I’m always going to be doing it, I think I’m going to be doing it when I’m ninety.” The album Colours of Sound is out
on March 7th.
Siren
MUSIC
TH E
College Tribune
4th March 2008
3
Dry your eyes Fresh from their nomination in the Choice Music Prize competition, Dry County’s Kevin Littlewood speaks to Lorcan Archer about their journey as a group so far and the changing climate for Irish music “I’m yawning an awful lot” reveals vocalist Kev Littlewood with a grin when asked about the current circumstances of Dry County. “We’ve been having some busy nights lately, with the Choice Music Prize competition the other night, and then the Childline support concert that we also played. But sure what can you expect?” The vocalist can feel somewhat satisfied with the tasks accomplished by the enigmatic group this week, whose music has been causing a stir in the Irish scene since the release of their debut album, Unexpected Falls last year. Falling somewhere in between a sparkling brand of upli ing electronica and the warm tones of shoe-gaze rock, Unexpected Falls helped to define the band in a scene awash with groups. “People always ask us how it came together,” explains Littlewood. “We started off very acoustic, with programmed beats behind it, and then slowly the dance element came in. Pretty much for us, it was a case of being very into electronic music and dance, but also loving rock bands. It seemed natural for us to take the elements that we liked from each and work it into our sound.” The relative success that the group have gleaned from their debut has been expanded upon by the band’s frequent gigging, which Littlewood stresses as a huge part of what Dry County is. “Someone said to me at the award ceremony that we were really being recognized for a live band as well as a recording one, which was nice to hear,” reveals the front man. “We get out
there and play as much as possible. We’ve spent a few months getting our live show up to the standard we want, we’ve now got the full visuals and everything. There’s nothing worse than going to a gig and seeing a band there who aren’t up for it. We give it all we can.” In such settings, the band’s character seems to speak for itself. “It’s great to see people being unsure of you when you start your set, but up dancing and really enjoying it by the end. If people invest their money and time in your band, it’s very satisfying to know that they’ve been won over.” The group do not have any ready peers in the Irish scene, presenting a style that is strongly different to the pack, which allows the group to adopt an independence from the influences of trend and pressure on their music. “It’s funny, when we started people said to us constantly ‘Where’s your drummer?’ and now every second band is using beat programs,” reflects Littlewood. “Musically, we don’t try to fit in. We like what we do, and I like the idea of being the underdog. We have so much more potential to blow people away when they do see us. You meet people who come along to the show and say that they hadn’t a clue that we were like this, at all. There’s something to be said for that.” Nonetheless, the vocalist remains optimistic about the chances for bands in Ireland to succeed in the current climate. “There’s always been great music here. You have to go looking deeper for the really good stuff, but it’s as good as anything in the UK or Stateside. There’ll always be
people willing to hunt it down. But then realistically I think it’s getting harder to get people to both buy albums and go to gigs. It’s just the way the climate is”, he adds. Nevertheless, the future remains bright for Dry County, with a packed year of activity awaiting them in the months ahead. “We’re just concentrating on broadening the amount of people who have heard us. We’re heading over the UK soon enough, then a erwards concentrate on new material, so it’s an exciting year”. With a packed schedule ahead, the band still needn’t fear a lack of inspiration or creativity, as they have a secret weapon in regards to staying musically fresh. “We absorb sounds from all around us,” confirms Littlewood. “But then again, that’s the great thing about working part-time in a record shop,” he adds in a conspiratorial tone. “I get to hear three classical albums a day, three pop albums, three rock albums, dance, rap and everything. Sure I’m sorted.” The album Unexpected Falls is out now.
Not so quiet on the popular front With Battle of the Band competitions popping up everywhere in the thriving Dublin music scene, The Popular Front guitarist Milo McMahon is emphatic that their success in the UCD contest was a helpful stepping stone towards great things for the Bray based band. “Winning the competition gave us the money, recognition and confidence to record our current EP, Sons & Ones – it sort of took things to the next level for us,” reports the guitarist. “It really is a great thing to have on the CV too.” Not resting on that particular bunch of laurels, the band has been busy building their profile in the city with plenty of live shows. “Gig-wise, we’ve been very busy. The support we’ve received from UCD has been absolutely brilliant in that respect. We’ve been offered great gigs like the B&L and Engineering Balls, and played with the likes of the Fun Lovin’ Criminals here. Outside the college too, we’ve had a show with The Flaws and stuff like that.” Not only this, but with The Popular Front signed to a small Canadian label for the foreseeable future, a full twelve date tour in western Canada has already been set up. Such an undertaking is no mean feat for a band that still has to
Gareth Byrne speaks to last year’s UCD Battle of the Bands winners The Popular Front’s Milo McMahon in order to catch up and see how things are progressing for the budding melodic rockers, and what sort of effect the win really had for them record their debut album. “We’re going to cover 3,000 miles and play about twelve shows, and hopefully make it through alive. We’ve been really lucky to get that opportunity, as a lot of Irish bands don’t really get the chance to play outside of Ireland all that much, let alone getting full tours, so we consider ourselves very fortunate and are going to do our absolute best to make the most of it.” The brand of infectious melodic rock played the band, typified by songs like What Do I Know on their latest release, is soon to be given the full long-player treatment with plans for the album already in motion. McMahon has no desire to rush that important release however. “We loosely plan to record our debut album over the course of Christmas ‘08 and summer ‘09. It’s the type of thing we don’t really want to rush because you only get one first album and we really want to make sure we do the best job of it we possibly can.” Like any growing band, the Internet has
helped the group get their sound out to many ears that may have picked up on the buzz around the group. “Particularly What Do I Know and Pretty Dresser have been getting a lot of plays on the Internet and stuff, and that’s been very cool. I think the main obstacle we face is communicating the music to as many people as possible.” McMahon is adamant that if someone wants to check out the group for the first time, then a gig is the best way to ensure a real understanding of their music. “The live show is a huge part of what we are, and really sums up the proper Popular Front experience, if you know what I mean. We love to have fun at our shows and make sure our audience is having a good laugh too. We generally love to make asses shake as well, so there’s a high likelihood of people getting their dance on at one of our shows.”
The Popular Front play the UCD Bar on the 6th March
4
Siren
MUSIC
TH E THE
College Tribune
4th March 2008
Aural Examinations num in the States, the Montreal based quintet’s 2008 offering was an opportunity for the band to ‘be daring’ and to ‘stretch the envelope of who they are’, profoundly articulated by griping singer Pierre Bouvier. The album’s opening track, When I’m Gone, initiates this hybrid of bewailing lyrics, sugar-coated with animated sprightliness, as one of the more frenzied songs on the album. It contrasts with the more dance inclined noise of The End, a tune which is bizarrely draped in a displaced R n’ B essence, and which npppp is a rather o eat direction for this pop-punk outfit. However bothersome a listen as it is, Just when we thought all the disillu- their musical incompatibility is cause sioned Emo kids had surrendered their for appraisal. The album is a mixed bag ailing gall to the wind a er their ‘Black of sorts. From the frenetic pop sensibility Parade’ had dropped its curtain and of Time to Say Goodbye to the utterly disstruck its last mournful g-chord, Simple parate dance-meets-R n’ B bellow of The Plan’s self-titled third album has defied End, Simple Plan at least shows gusto at all consensus. Here they present anoth- attempting what they are quite patently er copy for the pop-punk extremists to lousy at- cra ing a plausibly credible colsweat over. lection of songs. With their two previous albums, the annoyingly titled No Pads, No Helmets… Just Balls and the shamelessly self-eviSophie O’Higgins dent Still Not Getting Any ranking plati-
simple plan
simple plan
autamata
la rocca
colours of sound nnnpp
Autamata are back with their third album, this time presenting a beautiful mix of their last two ventures. The opening song, Effervescent, bristles with the great electronic ambience and intelligence that characterised their debut album My Sanctuary, while the following track is a far more direct affair, poppy and full of fun. Colours of Sound thankfully does not fall into the same trap as their last release, keeping things changeable and the listener guessing as to what will come next. Irishman Ken McHugh is the brainchild of this operation and does much of the material himself, but the true joy of this album comes with his collaborations. However, the highlights are the two songs featuring the incredible Carol Keogh of The Tycho Brahe, surely one of the best voices in music today. Another highlight is the frantic beat and wild pace of Music’s All We Need. The album is excellently put together, each song finely complemented by what has gone before and what comes a er, making it loud when it should be and reverting to calmness with perfect timing. It is an entertaining album, from the instrumentals, to the collaborations, to the ode to LCD Soundsystem in Come Party at My House. While sometimes failing to reach the sheer catchiness that such shiny songs would suggest could be possible, the consistent quality is there in buckets, and it’s more than worth looking into.
Eoin Boyle
the truth nnnnp
Many Irish acts have tried to break the US market, but very few have succeeded in establishing themselves as musical acts with high calibre and lasting appeal. La Rocca are hoping to prove the critics wrong and to crack the US with their unique blend of catchy, authentic rock. Hailing from Delgany and Rathcoole and led by lead vocalist/guitarist Bjorn Baillie, their latest offering The Truth is a collection of catchy melodic rock numbers that are certainly very easy to sing along to. The album opens with a strong rock ditty, Sketches (20 Something Life), which showcases intricate guitar licks and a solid beat that definitely exudes promise. Baillie’s rough vocals are reminiscent of Kelly Jones of Stereophonics fame, but don’t be fooled, La Rocca are a band who have their own individual style. Their current single, This Life, is a commercial, very American sounding affair with its catchy rhythmic piano melody and rock standard vocals that are hard not to warm to. Comparisons can definitely be drawn to the likes of Razorlight and The Kooks but La Rocca don’t rely too heavily on influences here for inspiration, showing that they are well able to create music that is not only original but appeals to a large section of the music buying public. The group have certainly cra ed a fine album which is not only catchy, but high-quality, solid rock, and could well be their calling card to success in the wider world.
Heather Landy
Watchi Watchi empire Securing a breakthrough critical triumph with their newest release, Irish Metallers Primordial’s Alan ‘Nemtheanga’ Averill spoke to Lorcan Archer about his aversion to the Indie scene and the ‘coffee-table cool’ of modern Ireland Should the average music fan be asked to name artists who create seriously emotional music, songs that truly grab the listener and debate the issues of life and death, but music that is still instilled with a real sense of wounded pride and passion, the list would be more than likely be quite a meagre one. Ireland’s own Primordial, who have been quietly releasing albums of dark, sweepingly epic music for the last fi een years, are arguably one of the foremost bands that belong in that list. Speaking shortly a er the success of a sold-out release gig in Temple Bar for their sixth album, To the Nameless Dead, Alan Averill can look at the recognition and critical acclaim that the band have been enjoying since its release with some justified contentment.
“That show was great. It was a long time coming, and I think it’s indicative of an Irish Metal scene that’s very healthy at moment, compared to what it used to be. For a whole generation of fans of that music, the small mindedness and begrudgery that may have existed in the scene before isn’t really there any more. There is no longer such a perception of ‘How could an Irish band be as good as an American one, or a Swedish one?,’ which is only a good thing.” Having been hard at work cra ing their evocative style since the early 90s, Primordial have been slowly building up a base of support on their home soil in truly underground fashion. With the vantage point of experience, Averill can look at the different situation today with reasonable authority. “It’s a lot easier today for groups to
get going, and a lot of it is to do with the Myspace phenomenon. Now a band can rehearse once, record it, and have that up on the web for everyone and anyone to hear. Back in 1993, we had one demo, with about 400 copies, and we sold every last one of those through the post, one by one. I think bands now realize the level of professionalism and dedication that is required.” To the Nameless Dead could very easily be termed a milestone album for the group. Not only has it been massively successful for the band, scoring a huge amount of critical praise and high sales across Europe and the U.S., but it seems to have cemented the group as having finally arrived as one of the most vital artistic components of their genre. A sentiment repeated consistently in reviews is the unique personal-
Siren
MUSIC
TH E
College Tribune
4th March 2008
david turpin
tegan and sara
the sweet used to be
the con
nnnpp
ng the fall ity and poetics of Averill’s vocals. “I don’t really sit down with an idea in mind of what each song will be about” explains the singer. “I write about a lot of things, travelling especially inspires me.” The group have an obvious connection with older Ireland, but not the kitsch, unrealistic Celtic image that is bought and sold daily, rather the vital cultural events and elements that exist in our history, such as the band’s exploration of the Great Famine and the poetry of Yeats. “We certainly would have an affinity with Ireland’s past, but certainly not with the society of Ireland today, which I view as a very self-satisfied, coffee-table cool. We don’t fit into that. I think that culture is reflected in the music that is so popular today in Ireland, the sort of Indie, singer/ songwriter stuff that I personally find pathetic.” Growing up in the lean days of Dublin in the 1980s, the group are very much children of a different age. “In the 80s, people had less, so they gave more. The economic revival is still something good that happened to this country, obviously, I mean, you
walk around Dublin and you could be in any developed city in Western Europe. But it’s brought with it a new generation of late twenty somethings who’ve been brought up on pure capitalism. We’re that bit older, so we’ve never wanted to be part of that.”
“The thing I hate about it, is that it’s neither here nor there. It is not ‘alternative’, and has neither one extreme of emotion or the other. It’s never dark enough, or never complicated enough. I’d much rather listen to a folk singer, or even pop music, because at least that’s not pretending to be something it’s not.” With a he y season of festival appearances on the horizon across Europe this summer, and demands for their return to the USA mounting, the band’s camp will be more active than ever this year. “This band is never a chore,” stresses Averill. “It’s never felt like a job. There are moments you can feel like ‘What the fuck am I doing stuck in this airport for the past seven hours?’ But there is no point in whinging about that sort of thing when you get to travel the world, stand on a stage and play something you’ve created, to thousands of people. That would be pretty ridiculous to complain about.”
“We certainly would have an affinity with Ireland’s past, but certainly not with the society of Ireland today, which I view as a very self-satisfied, coffeetable cool.We don’t fit into that” Expanding on this point, Averill is keen to put distance between Primordial and the mainstream music that exists in Ireland. “There is nothing I hate more than Indie music. I fucking despise it,” he states with a laugh. “I realise that the genre is obviously very present in the college generation, but they need to be offended,” he earnestly points out.
The album To the Nameless Dead is out now.
5
Apparently, Dublin-born David Turpin once flirted with the idea of becoming a jingle-writer. Thank whatever deity led him to reconsider embarking on such a career move, for this debut reveals an artist with an evident talent for tender melodies allied with electronic textures. The boy can certainly cra a good song, of that there is little doubt, and on occasion he creates an atmosphere so mellow you practically feel yourself dri ing away, such as on Melody of the Plains. The beautifully arranged and gloriously sweet Beyond the Stars also displays an ability to tug at the heartstrings that is irresistible. The layered compositions containing emotional lyrics recall The Postal Service’s album Give Up, which represented a similar venture into synth-pop. Turpin is hardly flawless however. The album occasionally hits the odd bum note, with Patience sounding remarkably like a Damien Rice impersonation. For the majority of the album he prefers to amble through almost every track with a whisper that he presumably imagines lends his songs an extra ethereal quality. He might argue over the lyrical worth of the songs, but the lack of any real variation still grates. Nonetheless, it would be churlish to expect too much for his first album, and there is a lot here to enjoy and to praise, with precious little to criticise, showing that this is a real case of emerging, raw talent.
nnnnp
The Con is the critically acclaimed fi h album released by Canadian twins Tegan and Sara. The songs are mainly pop rock with so er undertones thrown in for good measure, and sound like they’ve come straight from a stylish Quentin Tarantino soundtrack. The record is swimming with originality, from the multi-layered vocals to the simply regulated beats. The catchy melodies are simple, and exist as the understudy to the amazing lyrics. Back in your Head and Hop a Plane are the gems of the album, with the truthful lyrics coming across brilliantly, while the dancing piano cords and syncopated guitar riffs have the power to make the songs really stay in the listener’s head. However their startling originality doesn’t always work. Are You Ten Years Ago is a strange combination of voices and broken chords which don’t gel, almost to the point that the song is unidentifiable with the other tracks. There is no doubt Tegan and Sara’s attraction lies in their smart vocals and uncanny ability to fit as many syllables into one line as possible, and this feat alone deserves your attention. As simple as these songs may be, there is no denying these girls have talent. The list of collaborators on The Con is also pretty incredible, from Jason McGerr of Death Cab for Cutie to Hunter from AFI. If the duo is cool enough for The White Stripes to cover, you know you’re onto something special.
Fiona Redmond
Sebastian Clare
Gig Guide
v From
04.02.2008
Tuesday 4th March: Gary Numan, Tripod, €32.50, doors at 7.30pm The Cult, Olympia Theatre, €44.50, doors at 8.00pm Masquerade Ball with Ham Sandwich, TransZend, €20.00, doors at 10pm Wednesday 5th March: John Verderslice / Subplots, Crawdaddy €14, doors at 8pm Fish / Glyder, The Sugar Club, €22.65, doors at 7.30pm
The Coronas / The Chapters / Rob Smith, Ambassador Theatre, €25, doors at 8pm Fuzz Bear, Karma, €10, doors at 2pm
Juno Falls plays Whelans on Tuesday, 11th March
Thursday 6th March: Naughty by Nature, Tripod, €27.50, doors at 7.30pm The Popular Front, Radio City, €8, doors at 8pm The Tossers, Blood or Whiskey, The Hub, €13, doors at 8pm Friday 7th of March: Gravenhurst, Florence and the Machine, Crawdaddy, €14, doors at 8pm Kíla, Pavilion Theatre, €25, doors at 8pm Saturday 8th March: MGMT, The Academy, €16, doors at 8pm
Sunday 9th March: The Delays, The Sugar Club, €20, doors at 8pm Casinotone for the Painfully Alone / Ugly Megan, Whelans, €13m doors at 8pm
Tuesday 11th March: Juno Falls, Whelans, €10, doors at 8pm
Wednesday 12th March: Velvet Revolver, Ambassador Theatre, €54.80, doors at 8pm Adrian Crowley, Whelans Upstairs, €12, doors at 8pm Thursday 13th March: Velvet Revolver (2nd show), Ambassdor Theatre, €54,80, doors at 8pm Peanut Butter Wolf / James Pants / Kormac, Crawdaddy, €17, doors at 8pm The Blood Red Mountain Band, The Hub, €12.50, doors at 8pm Sult / Prison Love / John Spillane / Des Bishop, Vicar St., €30, doors at 8pm
6
Siren
ARTS
TH E THE
College Tribune
4th March 2008
The old man and the sea Booker Prize Winner John Banville speaks to Caitrina Cody about missing out on university, his time as an Aer Lingus employee, and his intense need for solitude John Banville is a small, self-contained man, with an air of tidiness and aloofness. He walks into the room with his eyes aimed squarely ahead, and takes his place at the podium with minimal fuss. The assembled audience is diverse – elderly ladies with A4 pads, grungy teenage literature students, even one newborn baby accompanies his enthusiastic mother, keeping a respectful silence, as if conscious of the presence of greatness in the room. He is patient with the audience and their many questions, pausing to consider his response each time. The only time that he responds promptly to a question without much thought is when asked which Hollywood actor he feels would be best suited to playing him in a movie of his life. “Brad Pitt,” he declares, the dry wit that pervades much of his literature coming to the fore. Banville is not afraid to laugh at himself. It is only a er the lecture, on a one-on-one basis, that the laughter lines that border Banville’s eyes can be seen, the glimmers of amusement that sparkle in them, the dim-
ples that make an appearance as he cracks a not-infrequent joke. It is time for the million-dollar question, the question that must plague Banville everywhere he goes. He looks politely bemused when asked if winning the Man Booker prize award in 2005 has changed his life. “My life? No, of course not. No award can ever change your life. I still write what I want. I get a lot of fans, a lot of mail, people wanting me to give them my opinion on their writing. But that’s OK, I can deal with that.” Banville is famous for regarding his work as an art form, and in the a ermath of his Booker success, his remarks took the literati by surprise. “It is nice,” he told reporters at the time with blunt sincerity, “To see a work of art win the Booker prize.” He defends his comments with characteristic honesty, “In a way, I wanted to be mischievous and annoy the literary circle, but I stand by what I said. What I set out to make was a work of art, and I felt that it was right to say, ‘Yes, it’s a
good thing for this kind of book to win a big prize.’” The 63-year-old Irishman is, despite his fame, devoid of pretension and posturing. He is a man that retains his own boundaries, does
life around me; as long as they’re outside – I don’t want them in the room. When I’m working, all I see is a blank wall. “I hand-write my work, so that I have the time to think about the words as I write them down. Computers are too fast, and sentences look too final on the screen, not fluid enough. I need time to think about each word and go back and think about them again. Only then do I transfer my work to a computer. “I write each sentence and I get it right and I keep re-writing. It’s like a snail crawling across the page, leaving this horrible slime behind it, although sometimes the slime glistens. Every now and then I will write a sentence and I will get it absolutely right. It will be written and I will hear a kind of ping, like when you hit your nail on the side of a wine glass. That’s what keeps me going.” Banville’s writing is well-known for its precision and language, rather than plot. He sees himself as two different people – Banville the
“I need my space and I need my routine. I’m not one of those writers who can write on the bus or the train, I need to be at my desk. I need my own piece of blank wall” not get too close, and is the first to admit that he is a solitary being, describing writers as ‘shy, nocturnal creatures.’ “I’m a very private person,” he concedes, “I need my space and I need my routine. I’m not one of those writers who can write on the bus or the train, I need to be at my desk. I need my own piece of blank wall. I have to have the sounds of
writer, and Banville the man. As a writer, he must immerse himself completely in the world of words; lose himself completely in the creation of his characters. “When I stop writing for the day, have my first glass of wine, and begin to turn into something resembling a human being again, say I’ve written four or five sentences that a ernoon, I can remember only the gist of them. It’s because somebody else wrote them. The person, who is now sitting at the table with a glass of wine in his hand, is not the same person who wrote those sentences. “My wife and I were on holiday and we met up with another couple, the man was a writer. He would write during the day, and when he would emerge then in the evening, he would look grey and haggard. I turned to my wife and laughed, and said, ‘I should hope I don’t look like that when I finish writing for the day,’ and she turned to me and said, ‘Of course you do dear.’ “Writing is an ordeal, a struggle; it’s hard to switch your mind off then when you’re meant to. That’s why I like to have a glass of wine when I’m trying to relax.” His first wife once described the author’s return to civilisation as akin to ‘a murderer who’s just come back from a particularly bloody killing,’ and this image aptly conveys the intensity of Banville’s approach to writing. He did not attend college – a decision that he now looks back on with regret. “I’m sorry I missed out on university. I couldn’t wait – I wanted to get out of Wexford and Ireland and see the world. But looking back, college is such a great time for social enjoyment and I wish I’d gone. “When I was seventeen, all I wanted to do was to get away from Wexford. I wanted out. I never learned the names of the streets in Wexford, because I was just lodging there. I wanted more, more, more. I wanted the world.” It is hard now to imagine Banville as anything other than an author – his solemn and ponderous aura seems ideally suited to the gravitas of the literary world. His desire to see the world, however,
Siren
ARTS
TH E
College Tribune
4th March 2008
7
■ The Works of Banville: Booker Prize winning The Sea, The Silver Swan and Christine Falls written under the pseudonym Benjamin Black
saw him play a very different role, as an Aer Lingus clerk. “I joined Aer Lingus for the cheap flights. I wasn’t an air steward though; I would have had to talk to people then. My first flight was to San Francisco for the grand sum of £2. I loved it; it was so different to Ireland, like a completely different world. The job was very boring though, apart from the cheap travel.” Like Samuel Beckett, one of Banville’s self-confessed literary influences, the author’s relationship with his mother has been a source of artistic tension throughout his adult life. “I suspect that, for me, my conscious life really began the day that I pushed my mother away and said, ‘No, I don’t want any more kisses.’ I remember that very clearly. I was about four or five. I can see the scene, and I can see my mother’s face. It was a terrible moment in my life; it was a terrible moment in everyone’s life when they have to pull away from
the mother-ship. But I think that that’s when I started to be myself, insofar as I am myself.
“I think that the relationship of the male artist with the mother is very, very important, always very fraught, and very tender in its way. A lot of art is made out of that relationship – that difficult relationship.” Banville gives his parents credit for fostering his sense of confidence, and giving him emotional support. “My mother brought me up to feel like I was a God. There was nothing I could not do, and I’m eternally grateful to both of them for that. They had lives that were narrow because of their circumstances of education, of class, financial situation. But for us, their children, we were going to become Gods.” Banville, who started writing from the age of twelve, is keen to deny his reputation of being a writer’s writer – a label that would imply that his complex and highly literary works are aimed at other writers, rather than ordinary readers.
“You can do no more damage to a writer than to call him a writer’s writer, because other writers won’t read him except to find ammunition against him, and readers won’t read him either. I’m not a writer’s writer.When the book is finished, I want to be read by readers” “You can do no more damage to a writer than to call him a writer’s writer, because other writers won’t read him except to find ammunition against him, and readers won’t read him either. I’m not a writer’s writer. When the book is finished, I want to be read by readers. “I write first of all for myself, as all writers do; a er that, when the book is done, I want it to be read by readers, not by writers. God forbid. I don’t write for academics, critics, book reviewers; I write for people.” The author of eighteen novels as well as three plays, Banville feels that his days as a journalist were a training ground for his present career, teaching him to pare down his sentences and eliminate anything unnecessary. In this regard, he can be seen as following in the footsteps of Beckett, whose minimalist approach focused on what was le implicit in his work. He reflects on the phenomenal success of the Booker Award winning The Sea, a book that has captured the imagination of readers around the world. “Criticism of my books over the years is that they were not necessarily cold, but too balanced. In a way, the novel should be lightly unbalanced, should be slightly rackety, like our lives, wallowing around and stuff. The Sea seems to have hit a balance that people find feels like the insides of their heads.” Banville is intent upon challenging his readers and their preconceptions. His characters are known for their unreliability, his books as ‘difficult.’ “I don’t want readers to be com-
fortable,” he explains, “I want them to be interested. I want them to be passionate. I want them to be all those things, but I don’t want them to be comfortable.” The author is honest about the challenges and limitations of writing as an art form, and emphasises that it is essential to write with the body as well as the mind. “Writing about sex is almost as difficult as writing about happiness. Happiness is the most difficult of all, that’s impossible. Sex is so silly that you have to find metaphors and analogies that will both communicate the joy and the losing of one’s self and also the silliness of it. “All art in a way comes back to the body, and if you make a real work of art, then it will be an endeavour of eroticism. The artistic experience is an almost erotic experience, not just your mind, but your body is involved in it.” As the author finishes his lecture, there is rapturous applause and a rush begins to secure a place in the book-signing queue. Before Banville leaves the podium, he pauses, with a twinkle in his eye and explains that for the last hour, his foot has been stuck to the floor by a piece of chewing gum, a disconcerting experience, but one that he struggled through with his typical composure. “I hate chewing gum,” the award-winning author mutters, “It should be banned.” And with that, Banville faces the eager gathering, whips out his pen and soldiers on, affixing his signature with gracious dignity to dog-eared copies of The Sea, sporting a quiet smile for all.
8
Siren
FASHION
TH E THE
College Tribune
4th March 2008
A.F.
C.O’D.
C.O’D.
Lights, camera, fashion
A.F.
Katie Keane attended the 23rd annual UCD Fashion Show and was blown away by the splendour of the dazzling extravaganza of fashion, music and dance
■ Photos: Aidan Finn (aidanfinnphoto.com) & ■ Clive O’Donohoe
The perfectly coiffed model strides confidently down the catwalk, her head raised high, her demeanour calm, as if oblivious to the rapturous cheers on either side. Clad in a bubble-gum pink mini-dress, she is a vision of perfection and the pounding beat of the bass is all that she can hear. Since 1985, the UCD Fashion Show has showcased both the talent and beauty of its students and thrown it all on stage in an explosion of colour and style. The show itself fuses fashion with art, music and dance to create a jaw-dropping performance which not only gives students a chance to be creative, but does it for a great cause too. All proceeds of the show went to the Down Syndrome Centre which truly made it a night not to be missed. Live music was provided by The Coronas, whose hit singles Decision Time and San Diego Song rocked the catwalk and roused the already excited crowds. Like Kings, winners of the Bebo Band Competition, also gave an outstanding performance that really added a little something extra to make the show come alive. Both the UCD dancers and the Nike D-Clash crew made sure that there was never a dull moment in the show. Decked out in an array of neon colours and prints, the two well-rehearsed dance groups provided entertain-
ment for the crowd and gave life to the stage. However, the models from the Down Syndrome Centre stole the show with their confidence, exuberance and enthusiasm. All looking beautiful and handsome, some enjoyed it so much they even didn’t want to leave the catwalk. The clothes themselves were provided by Dundrum Town Centre with a few different looks being especially prominent and bright, outrageous colours exploding on to the catwalk. River Island’s collection was not for the faint-hearted, especially where the boys were concerned. There was an abundance of multi-coloured skinny jeans on both the male and female models which would be a brave choice for anyone. The emphasis was on tight and bright attire. Floral prints also made a comeback. Models were seen wearing clothes with a slightly old-fashioned vibe. Hair was set in tight curls and pinned up while garments were long and elegant. The Punk look made an unforgettable and well-overdue return to the catwalk. Unlike the previous neon styles, this look involved more monochrome with flashes of bright colours here and there. Waist-coats, long hair, short skirts and belts featured. The style overall was more sultry than the current New
Rave look that holds such a fixed position in most of the high-street shops today. However the clothes on show from Calvin Klein certainly lacked in shock value. Classic red and navy garments with stripes and check patterns enforced the ‘can‘t beat a classic’ message that the designers were obviously going for. Blue jeans held their fixed place and jackets were tailored. Monsoon’s collection was vivid as ever. Colourful dresses were decorated with big block prints and flowers. When and if the sun ever comes out, there will be no excuse not to be well prepared. The Young Designer Competition demonstrated that in the fashion world, there’s always room for new ideas. The theme this year for the competition was “I bet you look good on the dance floor”. The emphasis was mostly on legs, as the outfits were generally short and either extremely baggy or very fitted. There was great diversity between all of the designers, the collections ranging from dresses that were quite wearable, to outrageous concoctions of materials, one dress even decorated with miniature teddy bears. The competition process carried out in the style of the television programme Project Runway, with the designers stepping out of
FASHION
Siren TH E
College Tribune
4th March 2008
9
A.F.
A.F.
The secret diary of a
Fashion Show model Cathy Buckmaster stifled her stage fright to walk the catwalk of the UCD Fashion Show in front of a packed Simmonscourt Pavilion, and lived to tell the tale A.F.
C.O’D.
a line-up. Laura Faughnan from NCAD was named Young Designer of the year, her striking outfits standing out with her striking and eye-catching designs. The model beside her was adorned in her elaborate pink and black dress which demonstrated her unique but tasteful design skill. The competition for Model of the Year was a parody of popular television programme America‘s Next Top Model, with each model given a photo of themselves as they le the catwalk. Female Model of the Year was blue-eyed Katie Slattery, a First Year Business student, while Fourth Year Business and Legal student Paddy Schwanberg accepted the crown as the male winner. Ultimately, the vast majority of clothes showcased were extremely wearable. There was a diverse selection of shapes and styles to suit most body types. The use of
colour was probably the most daring element of the show, letting us know that spring is well and truly here. For girls, the message was to chuck the baggy jeans and jumpers and go for more feminine, flattering outfits. For the guys it’s all about variety. Now more than ever there is huge variety in men’s fashion, whatever their personal style. Fashion has and always will have a huge place in youth culture. Influenced by music and art, it is an outlet for anyone to express themselves, and above all else, the UCD fashion show celebrated this spectacular expression of creativity and raised muchneeded funds for Down Syndrome Ireland.
A er having attended the UCD Fashion Show auditions on impulse, I felt remarkably underdressed wearing old jeans and runners in a room full of very fashionable girls. Standing in line in the Astra Hall, waiting for it to be my turn to parade in front of the judges, my palms began to feel fairly damp. When the results were announced, I was surprised and delighted to find myself one of the hundred and thirty models and dancers that were finalised as the full cast for the show, due to take place at the end of February. Four months followed with many events, including a bucket collection for the Down Syndrome centre, the worthy recipients of all the proceeds from the show, as well as meetings for promotion and with the creative director and producers of the show. Catwalk practice also took place, where many a dodgy walk occurred, a pyjama themed launch night and the dreaded fittings where delusion could not be escaped. We were also separated into mysterious groups according to our hair colour, complexion and general appearance which had various titles such as Abba, the Porcelain Dolls, Chestnuts and Jocks and Princesses among many others. The day finally arrived and everyone arrived in Simmonscourt at the early hour of ten in the morning with clean un-made up faces as instructed. However, most of us seemed to have gotten away with wearing a smidgeon of fake tan to take the edge of our early morning paleness. Hundreds of pairs of shoes in every colour and height imaginable lined the le hand wall along with the many rails of colourful clothes we would be wearing. The show was to start at eight that night, so professional hair and make up stylists got started on everyone immediately. On the hair side of the room, dryers roared and hair product as well as clips were scattered across the work tables surrounded by models clamouring to get their hair done. On the makeup side, the girls lined up in bulk to take advantage of being pampered for the day. The Porcelain Dolls had possibly the most dra-
matic make up with their hair tightly knotted into curls at the top of their head and a base of opaque shimmering white which was applied to their face with the addition of round pink cheeks and drawn on eyelashes. When my turn rolled around, my hair was tightly pinned to one side with solid hair sprayed curls falling on my right shoulder. My make up had to remain fairly natural as I was to model in the Young Sesigner of the Year collection. We began fitting on our clothes at half seven. I changed into my first outfit, a fitted black cotton dress with a surf motif and neoprene shorts, designed by one of the young designers, Kim Gilbert form NCAD who had been inspired by the surf scene form the 1920s. Accompanying it, I wore red sunglasses perched on top of my head and towering black wedges. Outside, in the main hall a bright yellow catwalk fell from the roof and continued along the walkway. Chattering from the audience could be heard before the music started to blare. The Coronas began playing as the first models le the safety of our backstage haven to walk up and down the blazingly bright catwalk. The time spent lining up backstage, preparing for my turn was, needless to say, anxietyridden. Walking out in front of four thousand people was intimidating enough without the addition of tall shoes to heighten my fear of snotting myself. The atmosphere behind the scenes was frantic, with people bustling around everywhere crating a lot commotion. There was a combination of eager yet worried chatter. Some of the girls were dancing to the music, some practicing their walk and others just stood still, looking increasingly terrified as their turn grew ever closer. However, we were all looked a er by the ever present, unbelievably organised backstage crew always there to keep us in line if someone began to wander. Far too quickly, it was my turn to strut up and down and before I knew it I was pushed out onto the long yellow catwalk with my partner and under the gleaming glare of the spotlights. Luckily, I did not freeze and, hopefully, competently managed to make my way up and back and even strike a pose or two. Nearing the finale, Panti, our wonderful transvestite host took on the role of Tyra Banks as the six short listed girls lined up on stage. He handed out pictures of the girls who would not make Model of the Year, building the excruciating tension, until the nail-biting v finish when it was just I and another shortlisted model, Katie Slattery le on stage. Alas, my name was called and I humbly le the runway and the radiant Katie became Model of the Year along with Paddy Schwanberg, who donned the mantle of Male Model of the Year. The fear and anxiety I felt, although very poignant before I walked the runway, seemed to melt away the second time round and was gone by the third as I walked out with a bit more confidence. All in all, despite the worry and frantic atmosphere backstage, it was an exceedingly enjoyable experience and without a doubt, completely worth it.
10
Siren
ARTS
TH E THE
College Tribune
4th March 2008
Paddy Irishman Actor, comedian and writer Paddy C. Courtney speaks to Cian Taaff ahead of his first solo stand-up gig, about his refusal to sell out just to get into television and his love for the Irish language Almost nobody would have believed that a thirty-something male from Malahide would ever make it as a successful artist in the big bad world of comedy, but the Irish Film and Television Award (IFTA) nominated Paddy C. Courtney has proved the world wrong in more ways than one. Not only have tickets for his solo gig in Vicar Street in April been selling out like selection boxes at Christmas, but he and co-writer Daniel O’Hara received IFTA nominations for best television script for their critically acclaimed TG4 comedy Paddywhackey, in which Courtney also had the leading role. “I decided to be a full-time comedian when I sat, very hung-over, behind the desk in my office (I was working as an accountant, for a record company) and thought about the gig I had performed the night previous. “I thought about the three girls I had snogged and the girl I had slept with, and thought to myself, ‘Fuck this shit, accountants don’t get laid, singers and comedians do’. I handed in my notice that week.” Courtney claim, with his characteristic . “Some of my family and friends thought I was mental giving up such a deadly job in a record company and
others were shitting themselves that their lives would appear on stage coming out of my gob,” he jokes. With minor roles in short films such as Yu Ming is Ainm Dom and Fluent Dysphasia, Courtney’s biggest role came in the form of Paddywhackery, which he co-wrote with O’Hara.
before we could shoot it and get it on to the telly. I never wanted to do the usual comedian thing and just say yes to any old shit just to be on the box. Too many are doing that these days, to the detriment of the comedy scene, on stage and on screen. You know who you are.” Despite his lack of fluent Irish, Courtney is a firm advocate of the cúpla focail, something obvious upon perusal of his acting CV. “I have a touch of the National Republican about me, so I am a big believer in the phrase, ‘Tír gan teanga, tír gan ainm’, meaning a country without language is a country without a soul. We should be proud of our language and we should try and hang on to it anyway we can. “I don’t have a recognisable face, which casting directors seem to appreciate. I look different in any of the parts I have played in film or on TV, but one day I was delighted to be stopped in the street by a girl. As I reached for my pen to sign my autograph on her chest, she asked me where Busárus was. Bitch. I gave her wrong directions for building my hopes up.” Courtney is set to spend less time giving out wrong directions, with quite an ambitious year ahead and high hopes to achieve a lot in the coming months.
“I thought about the three girls I had snogged and the girl I had slept with, and thought to myself,‘Fuck this shit, accountants don’t get laid, comedians do” “Working on Paddywhackery was a bit of a dream come true to be honest. I have always wanted to make something that would show off my writing and acting talents. I believed that if I wanted to make feature films in the future then I had to start somewhere, and a telly show on TG4 was a great start in my quest to tell stories on screen. “But be warned people, it took bleedin’ ages to write the script and then get funding for it to be made from the good people at TG4, BCI and Section 481,
“The most immediate thing is to prepare for my upcoming show. I am starting to get nervous now it now, although I shouldn’t as I have gigged there with Podge and Rodge, Keith Barry, Après Match and every other comic who has held a microphone on stage. “A er that I plan to produce a short film that I wrote last year and put my head down and finish the two TV comedy/dramas I am writing at the moment. Oh, and win the lotto of course,” c o n c l u de s the comedian with a chuckle.
Video hasn’t killed the radio star Cathy Buckmaster reverses roles when she plays host to Adrian Kennedy, who tells her all about his death threats, the trouble with Chris Barry and those late-night controversial topics It’s a er the watershed and a radio talk show host’s proud yet articulate voice echoes out of the radio. His is a voice very distinctive and familiar to many a student avoiding a last minute essay.
He is questioning a soon-to-be-bride who is defiantly claiming that she’ll chop off the genitalia of her fiancée if he cheats on her at his stag night. It’s the Adrian Kennedy Phone Show and the topic under discussion is a recent poll claiming that 72 percent of men cheat the night before their wedding. Controversial issues are only too familiar to this radio broadcaster, and despite eccentric guests, worrying attitudes and bizarre comments, Kennedy claims to take it all in his stride. “I’ve worked in radio since I was sixteen. The talk show happened by accident but I do enjoy it still. I always worked in radio; it started when we used to get a half day on Wednesday and I used to do a radio show that a ernoon out in Bray.” Chris Barry was Kennedy’s predecessor on the FM104 Phone Show. When Barry jumped ship for 98fm, it caused chaos in the station and an ensuing legal battle, but Kennedy explains that it all
have a right to their opinion worked out to his benefit. whether I agree with it or “There was a bit of connot.” troversy at the time, but Never one to shy away it all got resolved and I from a controversial or seritook over and he went to ous issue, Kennedy is happy 98FM. It kept me in the job to tackle any issue, however and I’ve had it very lucky taboo. This gusto has put ever since. We’ve been the him in danger in the past, number one night time however, when word spread show in Dublin for the last to a convict about an issue ten years so we must be spoken about on the show. doing something right.” “We had a situation where Notorious topics include I got death threats and it had drug dealing, unusual sex- ■ Tasty: Adrian Kennedy grabs a limited edition Wispa to be dealt with by the Gardaí. ual acts and the pros and Apparently, a guy who threatcons for the consumption of dog meat. The extreme nature of the to them, to ensure a lively debate. You’ll ened me a couple of years ago had just subjects debated on the show seems to never hear us talking about something gotten out of jail and he was a little bit attract the harsh and defiant opinions of that will have twenty calls in a row, all annoyed at me because of an issue dismany of the more peculiar people roam- saying the exact same thing because that cussed while he was locked up. “He started threatening me and then gets boring very quickly.” ing the airwaves of Dublin. Despite the strong views and outra- the guards had to call him off. It all went “We do get strange people, but what I always say is that out of a population of geous comments o en made on this away but it was a little bit scary at the a million and a half, you’re bound to get show, Kennedy claims that he doesn’t time. He knew what car I drove, and the some oddballs. A lot of the oddballs have get frustrated. “I’m a firm believer in route I took home and all this freakish a tendency to ring us up but we do have a freedom of speech and the one thing that sort of stuff. “Fortunately, that hasn’t happened nightly audience of over 50,000 so you’re makes our show a success is that people are allowed to air their views no matter very o en, as I don’t think my nerves bound to get all sorts of people. “We try to do topics that have two sides how unfavourable they may be. People would be able for it. Other than that, I
just get the odd nasty text but nothing that you’d take seriously.” Accommodating debates about abortion and homosexuality wasn’t going to make him any best friends among the more conservative side of the population. Kennedy explains his encounters with certain straight-laced Dubliners. “Only last week, there was a complaint thrown out about a guy complaining that I had interviewed a cocaine dealer. This guy complained to the Broadcasting Complaints Commission that we were encouraging people to use cocaine which is a load of rubbish. “People regularly complain about the show. On average, there is about one complaint a week. But yet in the last ten years, we’ve had only one complaint upheld against us.” Kennedy concludes contentedly, “People’s attitudes to all sorts of stuff like homosexuality and other moral issues have relaxed an awful lot. It’s definitely easier to talk about things and we don’t get as many people with extreme right-wing views. Dublin is a lot more of a liberal place than it would have been ten years ago.”
Siren
FILM
TH E
Col-
4th
11
Music can set you free
Honeydripper is not your average happy-golucky musically themed film, as it deals with controversial themes such as racism, which nnn ef- pp fectively adds to this films seductively catchy soundtrack. It is 1950 and a make-or-break weekend for Tyrone Purvis (Danny Glover), proprietor of the Honeydripper Lounge. Deeply in debt, Tyrone is ■ Honeydripper desperate to bring back the crowds that used to nnnpp frequent his establishment; he decides to lay off his long-time blues singer Bertha Mae, and announces that he’s hired a famous guitar player, Guitar Sam, corrupt sheriff of the town, who for a one-night-only gig in order to save the club. subsequently puts Sonny to work Into town dri s Sonny Blake (Gary Clarke Jun- on the cotton fields of Alabama. ior), a guitar player desperate to make it big as a The movie pushes along briskly, musician. Applying to play in The Honeydripper, littered with witty dialogue and an he is rejected by Tyrone and intercepted by the excellent soundtrack which rang-
es from Gospel to Blues. This is a feel-good movie that provides its audience with a valuable insight into what it was like in those times, with celebrated actor/producer Danny Glover giving us yet another consistently outstanding performance.
Max Harding
Cottage cheese ■
The Cottage nnppp
The Cottage is a rather confused and sub-standard film, which follows in the footsteps of the wonderful From Dusk Till Dawn, but without its fine polish. The film opens with a kidnapping by an unexpected duo who are very different brothers; one is an experienced member in the world of crime and the other a spineless and submissive husband. This predictably makes for some very enjoyable interchanges and combined with a feisty and aggressive hostage the first half of The Cottage is very entertaining. However this does not last long as it briskly descends into lunacy. Our main kidnapper visits the local village to use the phone,
encountering a bizarre set of villagers who warn him to stay inside, as strangers didn’t last long in their parts. This is quite a funny scene and one is driven to expect some form of cult behaviour but this thought soon degenerates along with the film, as it turns into your average and highly uninspiring slasher film. The by now thoroughly annoying hostage (Jennifer Ellison) escapes, bringing the bungling brother with her. They find a very odd farmhouse, seemingly empty, yet with a fire burning and lights on, and things get even stranger for them by the moment. Up pops our sub-human and disfigured farmer and the ‘fun’ begins. The other remaining characters show up at the farmhouse soon a er and cue the predictable and gruesome horror schlock. The Cottage progresses from a fun and entertaining crime film to a horrible and horribly disappointing slasher. It’s not that it’s such a terrible film- it does do a few things in an interesting way and it uses suspense very well- but what happens a er the suspense has probably all been seen before.
Eoin Boyle
The third dimension You can’t fault U2 for effort. First they tried to conquer America and to become the biggest band in the world. Now they’re trying to cast their net into another dimension, documenting the South American leg of their Vertigo tour with a concert film unlike any other that’s gone before. Visually, the results make for a stunning cinematic experience. Don a pair of nerdish 3D-glasses and witness bassist Adam Clayton strut down the stage’s curved catwalk, and swing his bass out of the screen. When Bono points, he practically stabs you in the eye, even in seat L16. Banal things like mic-stands and booms all become tangible items. If the powers that be could pump the smell of Argen-
■
U23D
nnnnp tinean sweat and beer into the room, only then could the realism be improved while in the comfort of your theatre seat. Musically however, the gig is still magnificent. Remove the novelty of the 3D event, and you still have a memorable concert. It’s made all the better for the passion of a fanatical Latin crowd, their hands alo to the beat seemingly only inches in front of you. As a band, U2 demonstrate that there’s still plenty of life in these four rather middle-aged dogs yet. Bono still makes his trademark Jesus impersonations, while the Edge wields his Fender and gets on
with it. The finest moments are saved for either side of the encore. Live favourite Where the Streets Have No Name sees 90,000 fans bounce in tandem, and The Fly, accompanied by a dizzying array of messages, sayings and letters splattered across and extruding from the screen. For all its realism, U23D still leaves the viewer with an occasional pang for an experience you cannot have - as a member of the ecstatic stadium throng. On the plus side, you still have the best seat in the house; it’s probably the best rock show you’ll never go to.
Simon Ward
FILM RETROSPECTIVE
War’s ugly reality Few scenes in Western film of the past thirty years can compare with the Russian roulette scene featured in Michael Cimino’s 1978 masterpiece, The Deer Hunter, in terms of sheer tension and mortal terror. The psychological effect of such a twisted game has been firmly absorbed by popular culture, appearing in everything from The Simpsons to 24, and while widely parodied, it remains a scene that inspires dread. What is o en forgotten is the breathtaking movie on
■
The Deer Hunter (1978)
both sides of that scene which can easily be classed as a stunning look into small-town American life in the 1970s, as well as the brutalising effects of war on those who take part. The Deer Hunter was a breakthrough vehicle for Robert De Niro and Christopher Walken, both portraying small town foundry workers who with their closest friends, travel through the three
sections of movie, those being life before war, life during it, and life a erwards. The effect of the movie is greatly helped by the extended first section, centring around a tight-knit community celebrating a wedding. Cimino then instantly plunges the viewer into the horrors of Vietnam, going straight from drunken fun in their hometown to burning corpses and horrifying bloodshed. This is real acting, with Walken more than deserving his Oscar for his performance as Nick Chevotarevich and his portrayal of one man’s transformation into a living corpse due to the effects of war. Beautiful cinematography
brings to life locations ranging from the American wilderness, Saigon’s seedy bars and the roaring inferno of the men’s civilian workplace. The Deer Hunter is a classic that does not fit into any single genre, instead moving excellently between immersive drama, psychological thriller and ac-
tion movie. Should there be one movie a leader should watch before sending his people to war, The Deer Hunter, with its amazing scope and honest study of the concept of sacrificing oneself for patriotism, would be a fine choice. Lorcan Archer
12
Siren
BOOKS
TH E THE
College Tribune
4th March 2008
Rags to riches Barra Ó Fianáil delves deep into the heart of India and its culture, while reviewing Vikas Swarup’s bestseller, Q & A. ‘I have been arrested for winning a quiz show. They came for me late last night, when even the stray dogs had gone to sleep. There are those who say I brought it on myself. After all, what business does a penniless waiter have participating in a brain quiz?’ Thus begins Vikas Swarup’s first novel, Q & A, a book that not only was a financial success for its Indian author, but which has also developed into somewhat of a cult classic in the short time since its publication. Most people who call themselves readers, will probably be aware of the work either by way of its initial success, or later as it floods the shelves of second hand bookshops around the globe. It is of particular popularity among backpackers; the fact that it passed so freely from traveller to traveller, particularly in South East Asia, adding to its relevance among student audiences. The book’s popularity seems to be based on two things; firstly a very interesting idea as a premise, probably ensured the book’s popularity to some extent, and secondly the author in exploring and elaborating on this idea, has received much praise for the picture he managed to paint of modern day India. The interesting idea is basically this - that a young, poorly-educated street child from Mumbai, manages to get on an Indian game show which resembles our own Who Wants to be a Millionaire, and answer all the questions correctly. The book is thus basically made up of chapters describing various segments of our young protagonist’s life, which by all accounts has been a very eventful one. By extraordinary good luck, each of these experiences is shown to give the answer to one of the questions on the quiz show. But Cecilia Aherne has shown us, by creating one of the worst films ever shown, that a good idea, which deservedly catches peoples attention, needn’t always end well. And indeed this novel is certainly not without its flaws; the most obvious of which are perhaps the author’s creation of a world that is very black and white, and one way or the other, hyperbolically so. This, very much in the Bollywood tradition, almost turns the book into something resembling a fairy tale at times, and takes away from
■ ■
Q&A Vikas Swarup nnnpp
the book’s second main quality. This, as mentioned, is the colourful and supposedly accurate picture that the novel paints of modern day India. The book certainly seeks to tackle some of the countries major issues head on. With chapters dealing with such things as the intentional mutilation of street children so that they may be used for begging (a practice rumoured to be widespread in India’s cities’ criminal underworld), the indignities of slum living, the inequity among the sexes, and the fanatical idolisation of movie stars, Q & A does not shy away from the topics which constitute contemporary India’s dirty laundry. The book is also filled with descriptions of the country’s beauty and diversity, with colourful descriptions as varied as the beautiful Taj Mahal, to the chaos and hustle bustle cities like Mumbai and Delhi. Even our protagonist’s name, Ram Mohammed Thomas, comprising an element of his Hindu, Muslim and Christian history, can be seen as an embodiment of a dynamic that has shaped the development of India as a nation. The book raises these issues, and gives a description of them, but usually knows its own limitations and stays away from any philosophical discussions. By the end you realise you have been reading a novel of adventure, where all is rarely as it seems, rather than a piece of work which has anything particularly insightful to say about the issues it shines a light on. Ultimately, an enjoyable read that choose, quite successfully, to deal with the serious contents encountered in the narrative, in a very dramatised and intense way. This could go some way to explain its extraordinary success - a man called Dan Brown found some success with a similar structure and model not too long ago.
■ Swarup: Creator of cult classic
Mirroring the past
Susanne O’Reilly explores the world of Kate Mosse’s Sepulchre, following the fortunes of Leonie and Meredith, as they embark upon some not-so-exciting adventures in the modern world and Medieval France Sepulchre ■ Kate Mosse nnppp ■
Kate Mosse’s Labyrinth was a fantasy novel, loosely based around medieval French history. It was on every bestseller list for months, its clever style and fast pace recommending it to many readers. Perhaps realizing that she had stumbled onto a winning formula, Mosse decided to write a very similar story called Sepulchre, with an even flimsier grip on reality than its forerunner. Sepulchre consists of two interwoven stories; one is set in 1891 and involves a teenage girl named Leonie Vernier and her incredibly over-complicated life. The other follows a character called Meredith, who unwittingly begins to recreate Leonie’s story in the present day. Leonie’s brother Anatole is in a lot of trouble with a man named Victor Constant, for making off with his girlfriend Isolde. Constant, who enjoys abusing women and playing mind games, stalks the couple for quite a while before they decide to fake Isolde’s death, and she takes up residence in the isolated Domaine de la Cade in southern France. Anatole’s eagerness to see her again leads to his departure from Paris, together with Leonie, who thinks Isolde
■ Kate Mosse: Repetitive is her aunt. Constant, of course, is too clever by half, and soon picks up their trail, flattering Leonie into betraying her brother and spreading vicious rumours about them around the town. The Domaine de la Cade is no ordinary house; deep in its grounds stands a Visigoth tomb, which contains vague sorts of spirits and demons. It’s not terribly clear why the Sepulchre is essential to the story, other than as a means of bringing about Constant’s demise. But if this link seems tenuous, it’s nothing compared to the feeble and contrived relationship between a set of drawings
painted by Leonie, and a set of Tarot cards that Meredith happens to pick up while in France, researching for a biography on Debussy. Conveniently enough, Debussy happened to live in the same building as the Verniers, and spent some time in the region of Domaine de la Cade himself. Thus Meredith hurries down south, to find that Domaine de la Cade is now a hotel, run by an Englishman named Julian Lawrence. The plot continues to thicken, with a dash of romance, intrigue and suspense added to the plot and not-so-surprising twist at the end. The two stories are well written, and Mosse certainly knows how to maintain a reader’s interest – which is why the weak, predictable ending is so disappointing. If you’ve read Labyrinth, there’s really no point in reading Sepulchre, as the settings and even some of the characters are almost identical. The cast of characters is immense, and nobody is what they seem. Fascinating as this is for a while, by page 400, with another 150 pages to go, you may begin to wonder why you bothered. Too many shadowy creatures and mysterious humans are le unexplained at the end, leaving one wondering whether even Mosse herself knows what or who they were, or what exactly they added to the story. There are far too many baffling connections, relationships and fateful events for Sepulchre to make much sense.