TN2 Issue 3

Black magick

tn2

John C. McGinley The Melvins Nyree Yerhainharsian Politics and fashion The Flaws

28 October – 10 November, 2008

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Calendar of fun

tn2’s pick of the most exciting things to do in Dublin this coming fortnight

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

Monday

28 Steve Albini-fronted, minimalist-math-noise rockers Shellac play tonight.

The Button Factory, Curved Street, Dublin 2, 8 pm, €20

29 The Week That Was take to stage to share their masterful indie-pop with Dublin. Am awful excited.

Crawdaddy, Harcourt Street, Dublin 2, 8 pm, €14

30 The Silk Labyrinth, a piece adapted from eight poems by David Pérez began its run on Tuesday (until 8 November).

Smock Alley, Exchange Street Lower, Dubln 2, 8 pm, €18

31 Quantum of Solace and Hunger are both released. A violent portrayal of one man’s commitment to a higher cause and a wee film about Bobby Sands.

Cinemas nationwide.

1 Start of the Celluloid Sinatra season at the IFI, celebrating one of the greats of showbusiness.

Irish Film Institute, 6 Eustace Street, Dublin 2

2 The Walkmen have been getting themselves a bit of attention lately.

The Button Factory, Curved Street, Dublin 2, 7.30 pm, €20.50

3 The Kills play tonight.

A little like watching two people have sex through music.

Tripod, Harcourt Street, Dublin 2, 7.30 pm €22.50

4 MGMT play a second date tonight. Should be fun.

Ambassador Theatre, O’Connell Street, 8 pm, €24.50

5 I was never one to advocate violence. All I’m saying is Paul Brady is a surprisingly small man.

Vicar Street, Thomas Street, Dublin 8, 8 pm €29.20

6 The Merchant of Venice begins a two-week (or thereabouts) run tonight.

The Helix Theatre, Collins Avenue, Glasnevin, Dublin 9, 8 pm, €22

7 W. is released, a portrait of George Bush brought to you by Oliver Stone, the man behind Alexander. At the very least it’ll be funny.

Cinemas nationwide.

8 Northern Stars and Southern Lights: The Golden Age of Finnish Art 1870-1920 begins today.

The National Gallery, Merrion Square, Dublin2

9 Kanye West brings his Glow in the Dark tour to Dublin tonight, with support from Santogold.

RDS Simmonscourt, Dublin 4, 8 pm, €65.70

10 To be honest, Built to Spill completely went over my head, but other people tell me they’re good. And it’s a Monday.

Whelans, 8 pm, €20

xkcd.com

Do YOU consider consider “cooking” removing the foil on a MICROWAVABLE CHICKEN CURRY? Have you got the nearest TAKE AWAY on speed-dial/ your CHRISTMAS CARD LIST? Is “pushing the boat out” getting EXTRA PEPPERONI on your pizza?

In short, are you a CULINARILY CHALLENGED?

Yummy din-dins?

If so, worry not, tn2 is at hand to save you from your culinary quagmire.

We’re looking for people to take part in a cookery challenge. You’ll learn how to prepare a delicious, cheap and healthy meal with our lovely food editor and quite probably get your picture in this here paper.

Chances are, there’ll be some free food involved as well.

For more information, contact edibles@trinitynews.ie

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28 October – 10 November, 2008

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Contents John C. McGinley talks to Hugh McCafferty

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The Melvins on curating ATP, touring and rock politics

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The Flaws talk to Maeve Storey

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Arts block art

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Impressionists and the people: from Paris to Dublin

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The more sinister side of Dublin history

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Hallowe’en reads

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Joe Daly on topics magical and, indeed, macabre

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Trinity graduates take to the stage

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Crippled by a lack of ambition

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Dostoevsky on stage

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Powerful fasion

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The lady look vs. menswear for girls

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Screen politics

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Deep fat fried and delicious

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The grape guide

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Reviews

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28 October – 10 November, 2008

Issue

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Ah, lovely Hallowe’en. For most, it’s a time for watching scary movies, eating sweets to the point of nausea, and threatening young children to get off the rose-beds. Here at tn2, though, as per usual, it’s a time for breaking new boundaries of cutting-edge (Hallowe’enthemed) journalism.

Actually, that “Hallowe’en-themed” part is a bit of a lie. I may have stuck a Magick Macabre shot on the cover, but it’s all a shambolic façade. Had I not forgotten that this issue would be published a few days before the evening in question, believe you me, I would have instructed my writers to deliver the Hallowe’en-themed edition of tn2 to end them all. As it turned out, our Books Editor par excellence, Jean Morley, as well as our accomplished Theatre Editor, Kathy Clarke, saved us a bit of face and delivered an article on Dublin ghost-lore and a feature interview with illusionist Joe Daly, respectively. Nice one, guys.

Of course, All Hallows’ Eve isn’t the only frightening event on the horizon. The US presidential election will be taking place very soon and Michael Armstrong, our Film Editor of unparalleled ability, took it upon himself to speculate what kind of movie this particular election would make.

Patrice Murphy, a Fashion Editor whose talents know no bounds, also had the election on her mind and included an article by the very lovely Ann-Maria McCarthy on the role of fashion in American politics in her section.

Elsewhere, Caroline O’Leary, an Art Editor whose impressive knowledge of the topic is matched only by the lyricism of her writing, decided that people really should take the time to visit the Douglas Hyde Gallery and reviewed its current exhibitions. Seriously, though, it’s literally at the entrance of the Arts Block and it’s free in.

Our music team, comprised of editor Steven Lydon and deputy editor Maeve Storey, interviewed grunge godfathers The Melvins and Monaghan hopefuls The Flaws between them. They also invented music – a little known fact.

In the food and drink department, Melanie O’Reilly continued her brave work as a Dublin-based food critic, overcoming adversity of all kinds to make sure you don’t have to. Paul Finnegan also immersed himself in the greasy world of Dublin’s premier chippers. It was a difficult job for the young man, eating all of those delicious chips and batter burgers, and I won’t lie to you, he did put on a lot of weight in the process. But he did it all for the good of you, dear reader. The mess.

So far, I’ve written a lot about a selection of people who have contributed to this issue. “Stop concentrating on those other losers, I want to hear more about you, Hugh, you’re the best,” you’re probably saying to yourself. Well, I don’t blame you, but don’t worry, I saved the best ’til last. Yes, that’s right, I actually wrote something for this issue: a probing and thought-provoking interview with actor John C. McGinley (or Dr. Cox from Scrubs, if you will), which you’ll find on the next page.

Enjoy, then, and have a pleasant Hallowe’en.

Yours spookily,

Hugh Editor tn2@trinitynews.ie

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A minor Cox-up After somehow managing to call actor John C. McGinley the wrong name, Hugh McCafferty succeeds in turning things around and pulls off a spectacular interview

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ive minutes into my interview with John C. McGinley and things have settled down nicely. Initial stock questions have been dealt with unproblematically and he’s started to expand in an interesting manner upon some of the more probing queries I’m throwing his way.

Then, suddenly and without any warning, everything goes tits up.

“So, do you ever think that you, John C. Reilly, will be overshadowed by your most well-known character, Dr. Cox?” I ask, with a wide-eyed, enquiring look on my face.

Suddenly, his expression changes from amiable interest to confusion.

“John C. Reilly? I’m not John C. Reilly, I’m John C. McGinley,” he replies, a little note of bewilderment in his voice.

My jaw drops ever so slightly as I’m struck by the realisation that I’ve gone and made a bit of a blunder. Step Brothers star John C. Reilly came to Trinity during the summer and appeared in issue one of the paper, hence my similar name slip-up. But that’s not really much of an excuse, is it? In short, then, it’s game over. I’ve broken the most basic rule of interviewing: don’t call your subject the wrong name.

I desperately attempt to think of other people I can blame for this little faux pas of mine. The Phil council, yes, they’ll do. Barry really should have given me more notice for the interview. Of course, that’s right. And who books two guests called “John C.” within two months of eachother? Confounded, reckless scoundrels is who.

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Luckily, John C. Reilly, oops, I mean McGinley is actually a pretty nice chap and wasn’t that perturbed at all by my astonishing display of ineptitude. The Scrubs star (he plays the wise-cracking, wisdom-imparting Dr. Perry Cox, in case you’ve somehow man-

land – UCD, three years ago – over a thousand students (including myself) were turned away as the demand to see him speak was simply too high. “I’ve never felt anything like the energy I felt in that room,” he recalls. “It was like my impression of what the Roman senate would have been like – the lecture theatre itself is shaped like an amphitheatre and people were hitting tables and making noise. Standing there, it felt like there was a wall of energy coming at

Scrubs has been a hit over here, but not so much back home. I mean, a lot of people aren’t even aware it exists

McGinley at the Phil.

Photo: Rachel Kennedy aged to avoid watching the show or, indeed, television for the last eight years or so) visited the Phil a few weeks ago and addressed a huge crowd in the Edmund Burke Theatre.

The last time he visited a college in Ire-

me, it was astonishing.”

Perhaps more astonishing is the success that Scrubs has enjoyed on this side of the Atlantic as opposed to the States. “At home, it’s chugged along for eight seasons now. It’s been the darling of the critics, but as far as popularity goes, it’s no Friends. At the same time, never in my wildest dreams did I think we’d be going this long.”

Despite his satisfaction with the show and the innings it’s had so far, McGinley re-

mains uncertain with regards to its future.

After its seventh season, Scrubs was dropped by its original network, NBC, and picked up by ABC. Having just wrapped up season number eight, the first to be produced for ABC, McGinley explains what may lie ahead. “There are two possible directions, two business models that the show is going to follow now. Either the network will take a band-aid approach, fix it up a little and see how long it lasts, or it’ll treat it like an old antique – polish it up and make it run further; reinvigorate it in a way. I don’t know which one it’s going to be but obviously I’m hoping for the latter.”

This talk of “reinvigoration” points towards indications by Zach Braff during the summer that season eight may be his last in the lead role of JD and ABC president Steve McPherson’s suggestions that the show may continue with new characters.

Regardless of its future, McGinley is more than happy to talk at length about Scrubs, something I wasn’t really expecting, especially in light of the considerable number of high-profile projects in which he has been involved throughout his career. Since his first movie role in 1986, he has appeared in almost fifty films, including Platoon (1986), Wall Street (1987), Se7en (1995) and Office Space (1999) – as well as the less notable likes of Highlander II: The Quickening (1991), On Deadly Ground (1994) and (shudder) Rob Schneider-vehicle The Animal (2001).

Does he ever fear that his popularity as Dr. Cox will lead to him being typecast? “Not

28 October – 10 November, 2008

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McGinley with Scrubs co-star Zach Braff

in the states, certainly. It’s been a hit over here, but not so much back home. I mean, a lot of people aren’t even aware it exists.”

With his extensive television and film experience, it’s easy to forget that McGinley’s acting career bagan on stage. When asked whether he would consider a return to theatre, he replies, “Right now, with an eight month old baby and a new house to fix up, I’ve got a lot on my hands. In the long term though? A thousand times yes. Especially if the Abbey called me up.”

With a name like McGinley, it’s no surprise that the New Yorker has strong ties to Ireland. “Every few years, I come over for ten days or thereabouts with my father and my two brothers, which makes a perfect group for golf, of course. I’ve travelled all over the country. A few years back I made my way from Galway to Dublin, driving along the southern coast. When I did that, I had two rules: if I saw something fun or engaging, I stopped. If I didn’t, I kept driving.” He must have made it to Dublin in a jiffy, so.

And where is his favourite spot in the country? “Donegal. It’s one of the most stunning places I’ve ever been in my life.”

With my “token questions about Ireland” box firmly ticked, I ask McGinley about how he approaches his roles. “As I see it there are two schools of acting. There’s the kind of DeNiro approach where the actor dives in to the role, immerses themselves entirely in it, like someone like Daniel Day-Lewis. On the other hand, there’s the John Malkovich approach where, instead of the actor becoming

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28 October – 10 November, 2008

the character, the character becomes him.

Someone like John is a lot more comfortable letting the character into his world. I go for the second approach. I like to add some of my own flavour to a character, to bring my own bag of tricks to the text. I don’t pretend to be as talented as these guys, though. Daniel’s performance in There Will Be Blood blew me away – it’s the greatest performance by

of time restrictions. TV is more of a grind, y’know? You’ve got persevere, keep things fresh. It’s more difficult because you’ve got to be constantly digging, but at the same time you’ve got to stay true to what you established eight years ago.”

It’s important to really embrace a family who’ve just discovered that their child has Down Syndrome and help them to see that this is a chance to be a great parent any actor in the last 25 years.”

And what’s own personal proudest moment? “I’d have to say either Platoon or the eight years of playing Dr. Cox, I really would.

Of course, you’re dealing with two different tasks there. With film, you’ve got two hours to flourish and very often you can be confined by a finite function with those kinds

McGinley played Sgt. Red O’Neill in Oliver Stone’s Platoon (1986) Beyond acting, McGinley has played an active role in the National Down’s Syndrome Society since his son Max was born with the condition in 1997. It’s a topic he’s extremely passionate about. “You’ve got

to put the emphasis on inclusion and on empowerment; you’ve got to celebrate the similarities, not the differences, y’know?

You’ve got to just dive in there and get the similarities all over you,” he explains as he rubs his arms enthusiastically, miming the metaphorical plunge.

“It’s important to really embrace a family who’ve just discovered that their child has Down’s Syndrome and help them to see that this is a chance to be great. Y’know, maybe most parents don’t have to take their kid to aquatic therapy several times a week, or to that extra class or to go that little bit extra for them. As I see it, you’ve been blessed with the chance to be a great parent and you should embrace that.”

Parenting is something that will be preoccupying McGinley for the time being, it seems. Second wife Nicole Kessler, whom he married last year and who accompanied him on his visit to the college, gave birth to daughter Billie Grace in February. When I ask what the future holds, he tells me, “Right now, I’m papa bear. As I said, I’ve got an eight month old daughter and an eleven year old son to take care of and a new house to work on, so I’m busy with that. At the same time, if Oliver [Stone – McGinley has appeared in six of his movies] calls or if the Abbey calls, Nicole might have to paint the house herself,” he finishes with a laugh.

As he leaves to have dinner with several members of the Phil council, I bid McGinley farewell with a casual “thank you.” No names. Just in case.

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All the kudos, none of the cash Steven Lydon spoke with Dale Crover and Buzz Osborne of the Melvins – a band criminally overlooked by most punters

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he Melvins are one of the most highly respected and influential rock bands active today. In a genre where it seems you’re not anyone until you’re dead, they are unique in that they are, well, still alive. More remarkably perhaps, even after twenty years, the quality of their output remains unblemished by corporate sell-outs or unsuccessful experimentation.

They are looked on as one of the biggest influences of the “grunge” genre in the nineties, famously having employed a young Kurt Cobain as a roadie – a piece of trivia that continues to haunt journalistic introductions to this day.

I spoke to drummer Dale Crover and guitarist/vocalist Buzz Osborne before they went on stage at the Button Factory a week ago.

If the Melvins are known for the quality of their music, they are known likewise for being largely ignored by the mainstream media for the entire span of their activity.

While contemporaries Soundgarden, Pearl Jam and Nirvana were breaking into charts all over the world and getting heavy MTV rotation, the Melvins remained very much an underground band. I asked why this was the case. “Our music is never going to ever

have that kind of popularity. It’s too weird,” says Osborne, “our stuff ’s always been experimental, but experimental compared to what? Compared to Throbbing Gristle, no, we’re not. Our stuff is like top 40 compared to that. Compared to what’s popular, on the radio at this point, yeah, we’re experimental. But our stuff is never going to be popular, you know, it’s just not going to happen.”

Would the Melvins have “sold out” if they were offered enough money? Is it just coincidence that they’ve retained their artistic integrity instead of making their own Nevermind? “No, we just couldn’t do a record like that. We wouldn’t be able to. We’d take the cash though. We’re not going to be a Nirvana junior. Our stuff is better than that. We already did three albums in the early nineties with Atlantic Records anyway. They knew from the beginning we weren’t going to do anything other than what we wanted to do.

We’ve never liked across-the-board popular music ever anyway.”

So no cash, but what about the kudos?

“Well, we were offered to curate All Tomorrow’s Parties this year, y’know, a few things like that. Recognition doesn’t mean shit really. All of the accolades, none of the cash,” Osborne laughs.

So are the guys still happy to play gigs

twenty years on, without major financial gain? “Oh sure. Still fun. If the Rolling Stones can drag their bloated carcasses on stage every night, then we can too. We probably tour more than we used to, or at least as much. I don’t particularly like life on the road, but it’s part of the job. I wouldn’t like life in Starbucks either, or life in Home Depot, or in an emergency room in a hospital.

There’s a lot of sitting around in somebody’s dressing room. At least you get to be creative this way.”

The band received an injection of fresh blood to the line-up recently in the form of the band Big Business. A strong two-piece in their own right, they now make up the rest of the Melvins’ line-up, playing shows with two drummers in tandem. It is this ability to constantly rejuvenate their output that keeps the band favourites of fans and critics alike.

They are strikingly down to earth, if not dismissive, about all of this critical recognition, however. They seem sceptical about the kind of hero worship and idolatry so often lavished on rock stars, especially those advocating the decadent rock and roll life style. “Speaking generally about rock and rollers, knowing what we know about those guys, probably the best thing to do is the ex-

act opposite of what they say. I think people should look to higher sources for religion, politics, and all that kind of stuff. We’re artists, we communicate, but ultimately we’re just entertainers. If you wanna inherit your political leanings from what some rock band says, you’ve got some problems.”

With the advent of the internet, the music industry is beginning to restructure itself with manifold repercussions for some bands, especially those who haven’t crossed the rather large hurdle of commercial viability. I asked how this was affecting them.

“Well, one plus is that music is a lot easier to get a hold of, sure,” responds Crover, “that’s good for younger bands, but overall that doesn’t mean the quality of music is going to get any better. It’s not. Nowadays far less people are going to be willing to invest money in a label, and so the “classic album” as we know it will probably die out. The Beatles’ White Album, or Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon. All of these smart-asses downloading music think they have it figured out: well, there’s gonna be repercussions coming. I don’t think they thought of that.”

Twenty minutes later the Melvins played a blistering show to a packed out Button Factory. Here’s to another twenty years.

The Melvins (l-r: Buzz Osborne, Dale Crover and Jared Warren). Photo: David McMahon

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28 October – 10 November, 2008

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Achieving (more than) vagueness The Flaws are on the ascent and have the potential to go very far indeed – Maeve Storey had a few words with the Monaghan boys

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s my lovely music editor here at tn2 wrote in one of his previous articles, “most people have the impression that the majority of Irish bands are crap” - and quite frankly I have to say that’s the view I’ve always had, too. Sure, there are, as with everything in life, some exceptions to the rule. There are the obvious examples - the perennially popular U2 whose consistent string of hits over the last two decades put them at the number one spot for Irish bands, the glorious pubanthems of Thin Lizzy and, let’s face it, who could live without Sir Bob himself blabbering on about why he doesn’t like Mondays?

The sad thing about all these examples of fine Irish talent is that none of them are new. None of them are the “next big thing.”

They aren’t doing anything different. They aren’t changing the face of Irish music.

What about the next generation? In 2008, what Irish bands are out there that can really stand on stage and compete with the barrage of international acts that invade our television sets and our radio waves?

In an attempt to find the answers to these questions, I spoke to Dane McMahon bassist and backing vocalist in up-and-coming Irish indie group The Flaws to find out just tn2

28 October – 10 November, 2008

what state the Irish music scene is in.

The Flaws are a charming four-piece band from Co.Monaghan who can, indeed, play damn good indie-music. Obviously influenced by The Smiths, as Dane himself admitted in our brief chat, they have put together their very own blend of melodic guitar, up-lifting vocals and even some rather powerful lyrics.

The Flaws, it seems, can stand up to and even exceed the wave of generic indie bands that have flooded the music scene over the past five years (The Wombats, The Hoosiers, The Kooks - does anybody really know the difference?). With this in mind, why is it so hard for young Irish bands like The Flaws to gain recognition for their musical ability on a larger scale?

“The music market is just so dense, you really have to fight your corner and get stuck in there if you want to go for it and really achieve something,” Dane told me, and to be fair to the lads, that’s what they’ve done.

In 2005 they bravely self-financed an EP of their early material which went down a storm with Irish radio stations and gained high praise from top Today FM DJ Alison Curtis who, according to the band’s press blurb, proclaimed their track “Sixteen” to

be one of the best Irish songs of the year.

High praise for a group that were relatively unknown at the time. The song was, however, not released as a single until last year after the band re-recorded it with the help of Irish producer Gareth Mannix and I have to admit, it’s an infuriatingly catchy indiepop track.

Since then, the band have been touring, gathering a gang of adoring fans who, by the looks of the posts left on the band’s forum on theflaws.com, are definitely in it for the long run. One eager fan exclaims, “I didn’t think that I could love you guys any more than I already did, but after that performance I certainly do! You are the best Irish band EVER!” Once again, high praise indeed. But despite their success, the band don’t seem to have let it go to their heads at all. When I asked about the title of their debut album Achieving Vagueness, which they released last year to great acclaim, I was confronted by a side of the band that I was blown away by - their painstakingly honest self-awareness. “This album is not it; we’re still only achieving vagueness. It’s not perfect but it’s us for now. We know we’re only just starting. That’s why we’re called The Flaws - we know we still have so much more to give.”

In an age where ego is everything, it’s refreshing to speak to a group who have such modesty and a true desire to make not just good music, but great music. While the charts are bombarded with an onslaught of bands who release one-off indie anthems,

which are adored by BESS students in the Purty Kitchen for about a week, The Flaws see the bigger picture. “We don’t feel pressurised to make a number one single. We’re still making the music that we want.”

And for now, this doesn’t seem to be doing them any harm - the band played to a full house of appreciative fans in Whelan’s just last week and are set to play the Spirit Store in Dundalk as part of the Amnesty International Small Places Tour on 27 November.

But these gigs are only relatively small compared to some of the places the band have played this year - including nine festivals, most impressively the legendary Glastonbury.

I asked Dane about this experience and he tells me that it was a “monumental” moment for the group, playing for a crowded tent at one of the world’s best-known music festivals. Three times the size of the second largest festival they’ve ever played (Electric Picnic), the softly-spoken bassist recalled Glasto (as he affectionately calls it) as “daunting but a once in a life time opportunity. We just had to give it our all.”

Finally, as our short interview drew to a close I quizzed the musician about The Flaws’ plans for next year. “We’re going to step back, start again and begin re-thinking ideas for the new album” he said, before joking, “we plan to get bigger and bigger and then take over the world!”

Well, if their brilliant first album is anything to go by, I’m sure The Flaws’ next offering will achieve far more than vagueness.

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Art in the Arts Block The Douglas Hyde Gallery currently features work by Turner Prize-nominated artist Gillian Carnegie as well as an exhibition of Japanese tea bowls – Caroline O’Leary takes a look

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rinity’s own Douglas Hyde Gallery is easy to miss, tiny and tucked away by the Nassau Street entrance to the college. Unlike other university galleries, such as the enormous UCC Lewis Glucksman Gallery, the Hyde is small and select. Built into the concrete of the Arts Block, it reflects the building’s modern architecture by specialising in contemporary shows that range from the obscure to the award-winning.

On entering the gallery, the viewer is often torn between distaste for yet more concrete boxes and the realisation of escape from the hustle and bustle of college life to a large, bright, airy room: alone with the art.

Currently running are two very different and somewhat contrasting exhibitions, which illustrate the enormous expansion in meaning of the term “art”, featuring Turner Prize-nominated painter Gillian Carnegie and a special exhibition of Japanese tea bowls.

The larger gallery houses a selection of work by Carnegie, an artist that seems to defy both expectation and categorization.

Her subjects include fairly standard stilllifes, landscapes and nudes, which appear at first glance to be extremely standard and even a little uninspired.

It was this factor that first drew widespread public attention her way when, on being nominated for the 2005 Turner Prize, The Daily Telegraph printed the headline “Turner Prize shocker: the favourite is a woman who paints flowers. Whatever next?”

Though beaten to the award that year by Simon Starling’s far more Turner-friendly conceptual work Shedboatshed, Carnegie’s work should by no means be dismissed as unoriginal. It is only on closer inspection of her supposed mundane subjects that her technique becomes clear in her almost imperceptible distortion of these everyday subjects.

In her paintings, one finds sculptural blobs of paint shaping the surface and “cracking” backgrounds which add a jarring note of unreality to the scenes. A vase of roses, usually so comforting and positive an image, becomes something unsettling and even a little disturbing through Carnegie’s miserably subdued tones and disintegrating background.

It is not what she paints, then, but the way in which she sees and renders her subject matter, that causes the viewer to become fascinated.

Three paintings in particular, taken from the Overlook series, represent the true individual innovation of Carnegie. Each piece portrays an identical Tudor-style housing facade rendered in a remarkably different

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Overlook XXV - Gilian Carnegie (2007); courtesy of Collection Thomas Borgmann

way, ranging from neon yellow outlining, to an almost standard landscape, to the apparent structural disintegration of this little house’s world – enormous, rough brush strokes paint the image’s gloomy and dismal sky.

In contrast to Carnegie’s acclaimed work, the gallery’s second choice of exhibition – Japanese tea bowls – is so unusual that director John Hutchinson felt the need to justify his decision in the informative pamphlet provided. To his credit, with a

little background information both the artistic merit and contemporary appeal of the objects becomes apparent.

If you ever spend a summer living with a teahouse manager and all-round tea fanatic (as I recently and very enjoyably did), you rapidly learn that there is much more to tea that beating a bag around a mug and adding milk and sugar. Originally discovered in China, the tradition spread to Japan in the ninth century where it became not only popular but also an important part

of the cultural tradition. This was due to both its medicinal attributes and its promotion of personal and spiritual well-being.

The traditional Japanese tea service is complex and exists in various forms; from bon temae, a tray service, to kaiseki, a full banquet including Japanese sake wine.

The equipment used in the service is traditionally the most significant component and is always handled with care and reverence.

Unsurprisingly, then, tea bowls are of the utmost importance and vary immensely depending on many factors, such as whether the tea being served is thick or thin and whether the ceremony is performed in summer or winter.

The bowls currently on show in the Hyde Gallery are a beautiful representation of artistic aesthetics and functionality that has evolved for hundreds of years in Japan to reflect principles of harmony (wa), respect (kei), purity (sei), and tranquility (jaku) principles that have governed the tea ceremony for hundreds of years.

These bowls are modern creations and reflect and illustrate the numerous different styles of bowl creation, some spun on a wheel, others hand-mounded, delicately glazed and painted inside and out with calligraphy brushstrokes in relief and several other variations.

The bowls are beautiful in their simplicity; their unpretentious exteriors are each individual and unique. So important are traditional bowls that, when broken, they are painstakingly repaired using a mixture of lacquer and often powdered-gold to disguise the dark colour of the lacquer (kintsugi).

The worth of these objects to an entire nation is obvious, and allows us to fully appreciate the unique artistic beauty of both Japanese culture and its people.

Displaying these exhibitions together may seem a bizarre choice but in doing so, the Douglas Hyde prompts its visitors to reassess their idea of modern and contemporary art. The exhibitions show the huge and growing range of meaning of the word “art.”

In addition to this, and perhaps more importantly, they illustrate art’s ability to transcend time, culture and function. Both exhibitions involve traditional subjects rendered unique by virtue of their creator’s skill, and together they encourage the viewer to re-evaluate their pre-conceptions of what art is and should be.

All this and you don’t even have to leave the campus.

Gillian Carnegie and Japanese tea bowls exhibitions run in The Douglas Hyde Gallery until 13 November.

28 October – 10 November, 2008

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Sur la Plage - Edgar Degas (1869-1870); Sir Hugh Lane Bequest - on loan from The National Gallery, London

Impressionists and the people As art movements go, Impressionism possesses considerable mass-appeal – Ciara Finlay visits some recent Impressionist exhibitions in Dublin

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hen we consider art, it is usually perceived to be something that has been left to the confines of “high culture” and regarded as inaccessible to the masses. However, as far as Impressionism is concerned, we find that this movement possesses an undeniably broad appeal.

This can be seen in countless facets of everyday life, with numerous Impressionist works leaping out from their gilded frames and onto posters, coffee mugs, and even aprons.

The great works of this movement are generally thought to reside in the romantic location of Paris, particularly in the the Musée d’Orsay where one can admire Manet’s The Luncheon on the Grass, Renoir’s Bal au moulin de la Galette, Montmartre and Van Gogh’s Starry Night Over the Rhône.

A mere bridge-crossing away is the Musée de l’Orangerie where one can find Monet’s Nymphéas. The queues to get in to these museums are often as long as those for the city’s other great attraction, tn2

28 October – 10 November, 2008

Disneyland Paris. This fact alone indicates the huge public demand for such works.

Over the course of the summer, Trinity students had no need to go quite as far as Paris to enjoy the works of the impressionists. Three minutes from the Pav stands the National Gallery of Ireland and for two weeks from late July to early August, the Millennium Wing featured an exhibition titled Impressionist Interiors Bringing together works from private lenders and museums alike, the exhibition took an insightful look at paintings from a movement typically remembered for its depiction of sunsets and gardens.

The usual suspects had their works hanging for all to delight in, including Manet’s The Ball at the Opéra, Morisot’s The Artist’s Sister at a Window, and Degas’s The Convalescent.

These paintings, though very beautiful indeed, were not the only works which received significant admiration. Some people say that young children make the greatest art critics as they are unpretentious, wholly

dedicated to their own art and brutally honest. If this is true, then we cannot overlook Women of Paris: The Circus Lover by James Jacques Joseph Tissot.

Tissot’s incomparable abiity to depict high society can clearly be seen in this painting, full of colour and life. This may account for the reactions of the children who marvelled before it with wide smiling eyes.

Had any members of the Dublin University Gender Equality Society visited the exhibit, they would have responded to it with a similar sense of delight and doubtlessly commended its curator Janet McLean. Works by Berthe Morisot as well as Mary Cassatt were hung along with those of Camille Pissarro and Paul Gauguin, demonstrating how their work, once atrociously undervalued, is now held in equal regard to that of their male contemporaries.

The combination of all of these elements meant that Impressionist Interiors could be enjoyed by both connoisseur and amateur alike.

Don’t fret if you missed the exhibition though, Impressionist art can still be found in the city, in The Hugh Lane Gallery, for example. In honour of its centenary year, the gallery decided to celebrate in style. On 26 June, President Mary McAleese opened the Hugh Lane 100 Years exhibition, focused on the 39 Hugh Lane Bequest Paintings.

This exhibition marks the first time since the 1913 controversy surrounding the ownership of said paintings that the entire collection has been on display in the gallery – a terrific triumph for the cultural movement in Ireland.

Also featured are paintings by artists such as Antonio Mancini and George Russell, adding to the overall grandeur of such a wonderful display of art.

Entry to this exhibition is free, although donations are encouraged, which allows for casual observation of these great works by anyone who takes even a passing interest.

For many who venture in to take a glance, the highlight of this exhibit is Renoir’s Les Parapluies, a painting which captures a scene familiar to all those who reside in Ireland – an umbrella-crowded street.

The great variety of works on show here creates a vibrant demonstration of art in Ireland. From the left bank and right bank of the Seine to the south side and north side of the Liffey, Impressionist exhibitions never fail to gather a growing number of art aficionados when they are put on display. Given the quality and quantity of Impressionist work on show in the Hugh Lane at the moment, anyone with even a passing interest in art would be mad to miss it..

Hugh Lane 100 Years runs in The Hugh Lane Gallery until 31 December.

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Dublin’s dark side

Jean Morley looks at the murkier side of the city’s history books

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e all love a good ghost story.

Remember cowering under the bed-sheets with a neon copy of Goosebumps by RL Stein? Or watching the mesmerising opening credits of Are you Afraid of the Dark? I often wonder how many other people out there still have flashbacks of that creaking swing.

For overgrown children of the nineties, Trinity is a gothic wonderland. Rollerdiscos aside, the college is at the centre of Dublin’s ghostly tradition, having had more than its share of phantasmagorical happenings. Read on and you’ll never again walk alone to the Pav. Trinity College campus Of course, we all knew that there was something foreboding about this place. Take the interior design of the Museum Building. A university forcing its natural scientists to study under the shadow of a huge dead elk is merely breeding morbid tendencies.

Indeed, as Brian Showers points out in his fascinating book Literary Walking Tours of Gothic Dublin, Trinity has mothered five great writers of the tradition. Charles Robert Maturin (author of the often emulated Melmoth the Wanderer), Joseph Sheridan le Fanu (often hailed as father of the modern ghost story), Fitz James O’Brien and Oscar Wilde all hobbled across the cobblestones at various points. The college’s most famous gothic son, however, is Bram Stoker.

Creator of the world’s most famous vampires, he deserves a lifetime achievement award for services to Transylvanian tourism and uninspired Hollywood directors.

But where are you most likely to find the ghastly remnants of Trinity’s past? No, not the meetings of the University Historical or Philosophical Societies; although Stoker did preside over both at various stages in his academic career. Nor should we look to Dublin’s smallest burial site; the Chaloner Cemetery, in which Trinity’s provosts and fellows are buried. Instead, try the extension to the Berkeley Library. Excavated in 1999, the site was found to contain dozens of human remains, many dating to the late eighteenth century.

The severely dismembered state of the bodies and their cumbersome arrangement in shallow pits, suggests the handiwork of medical students. Prior to the 1830 Anatomy Act, medical schools relied on covert means of acquiring corpses. Having received the bodies in the dead of the night in order to carry out dissections, the students would have been eager to dump the proof of their work.

However, before chastising Trinity meds as an over-zealous lot, we ought to see their actions in the context of the time. Bodysnatching was as common as cricket, with far gorier examples in neighbouring colleges. The Royal College of Surgeons was famous for its use of “sack-em-ups” – men with the extrememly useful ability to produce bodies on demand.

Edinburgh Medical School, however,

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ings down through the years. Nowhere is this more evident than in the gothic interiors of the city’s churches. Where else in the world would tourists queue outside a chapel in hopes of shaking hands with some mummified remains? Tradition dictates that visitors to St. Michan’s church, beside the Four Courts, shake the hands of its mummy for luck. The eight hundred year old templar knight is not only a weathered veteran of the crusades but a more recent victim of repetitive strain injury.

The “black church” is a name ascribed to a number of Dublin’s ecclesiastical buildings, including Holy Trinity in Rathmines, St. Lukes of the Coombe and the Chapel of Ease on Mary Street. Repeatedly walking around such a church in the light of the midnight moon will guarantee an audience with the Devil himself. It will also make you very dizzy.

St Stephen’s Green You thought rogue pigeons were the only threat to a peaceful lunchtime sandwich in the Green. But the park has been home to more ghoulish sights. According to seventeenth century reports, the park was choked with weeds and severely overgrown.

Worse still were the exhibits in the park’s southwest corner. Not only could on take in the pleasant view of a leper colony here, but there was also gigantic gallows pole to behold. The park served as a public gallery for the remains of Dublin’s less fortunate criminals. brought the practise to more morbid depths.

Two Irish emigrants moved to the city, eager to profit from the academic demand for bodies. Preferring to avoid any arduous digging, they captured “waifs and strays” passing their door before selling their bodies for hefty rewards.

Despite goings on elsewhere, the Trinity burials remain particularly strange – for reasons unknown to the most experienced of archaeologists, camel bones were sprinkled among the remains.

Unfortunately, accounts of supernatural phenomena in the college are often confused, with a Long Room Ghost, a Rubrics Ghost and even a New Sports Hall ghost batting each other in the credibility stakes.

Thankfully, college history enthusiast Professor Garrett Fagan of Pennsylvania State University, is on hand to differentiate between accounts. He recounts the “only authentic” Trinity ghost story, the unfortunate murder of Edward Ford.

A college fellow and famous academic, Ford occupied House 25 of the Rubrics building. As controversial as he was talented; he was described by one colleague as an “obstinate and ill-judging man.” One evening, a group of typically rowdy Trinity students threw stones at his window, rousing him to anger. Pulling out a gun and muttering profanities, he shot into the taunting crowd.

Although uninjured, the group was furious and decided to retaliate. Having collected their (illegal) firearms, they returned to fire through his window. Unfortunately, the

prank was fatal, as Ford died from his gushing wounds. To this day, a man dressed in a wig, gown and high knee breeches wanders beyond the rubrics at dusk. Often taken for a misguided arts student, he ambles down to Botany Bay before fading into the air.

But Ford is not the only wandering soul associated with Trinity’s stony walls. Archbishop Narcissus Marsh was provost of Trinity in the 1670s, before rising to his clerical post in nearby St Patrick’s Cathedral. A quiet and bookish man, he spent much of his time in his churchyard library. He was also a guardian to his niece Grace, an innocent young girl of whom he was very fond.

Unfortunately, Grace fell in love with a Curate, from a far-off English parish. Worried about leaving her loving uncle, Grace avoided revealing her plans to marry and eloped with the dashing curate. She left a note for her loving uncle, who died soon after, a heartbroken man.

To this day, librarians in Marsh’s Library report sightings of a forlorn phantom.

Trawling through stacks of books, he is desperate to find his niece’s words. Similar ghostly spectres are also to be seen in our own Lecky Library. Flicking aimlessly through books as essay deadlines approach, they shuffle through handouts in eternal despair.

Dublin’s inner city churches From meetings of Yeats’ Hermetic Society, to the reformation of Boyzone, Dublin has been home to some truly freakish happen-

Copper-faced Jack There are a number of adjectives commonly used to describe Dublin’s premier culchie nightclub but “sinister” is not usually one of them (Ed. – I beg to differ, Jean). However, learning about the real Copper-faced Jack forces a reassessment of the nightclub’s aims.

Lord Clonmel (1739-98), as he was otherwise known, was one of Dublin’s notorious “hanging judges.” Determined to execute at all costs, he is most famous for his actions in 1792. In sentencing a boy for petty theft, he also decided to convict the father. The innocent man was hung and drawn to compensate for the actions of his reckless son.

Bram Stoker later occupied Lord Clonmel’s home, which is two doors up from the infamous nightclub. Unfortunately, without the rancour of the nightclub’s music in the late 1800s, ghosts were the only things going bump in the night.

To conclude Ghost stories are the monkey nuts of the literary world; insubstantial treats to be enjoyed at Halloween. But is there truth in their cadaverous folds?

We’ll end with the words of one college librarian, asked to confirm the existence of a Long Room ghost. “Sometimes, if it’s twenty past nine on a cold, wet Thursday evening or something and the lights flicker, you think maybe, just maybe, there’s something out there...”

28 October – 10 November, 2008

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Hallowe’en reads If throwing bangers at your neighbour’s dog grows tiresome this Hallowe’en, then you could do worse than casting an eye over these spooky classics Exquisite Corpse Poppy Z Brite (1996) “…his jaw ached from biting again and again into unresisting flesh. The bathroom was a charnelhouse. Most of his guest’s body was strewn across his bed, reeking and oozing.”

Sounds like a cheery little book, doesn’t it?

Well, that’s horror queen Poppy Z. Brite’s Exquisite Corpse for you, a novel that is both consistently shudder-inducing and totally engrossing. I have never wanted to put a book down more, and I have also never been so completely unable to do so.

The novel centres around two serial killers, Andrew Compton – a necrophiliac who has escaped from a British prison – and Jay Bryne – a cannibal whose character was modelled on American serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer.

Brite follows the lives of both men to their inevitable meeting in New Orleans, a city whose decadence and squalor Brite describes in loving detail.

On meeting, each killer is at first the other’s intended victim, until they discover that they are equally matched. They become lovers and begin to kill together, each trying to come to understand the unique “tastes” of the other.

Brite spares her readers no moment of her characters’ violence or sexuality, which for the two killers, are completely bound up together.

The novel is not purely from the perspective of

the killers, which saves it from overly valorising them; Brite also places her reader in the mind of Andrew and Jay’s final victim, Tran Vinh, a young drug dealer.

It is through Tran’s character that we are taken into a subplot of Brite’s, which is very much concerned with the time in which she was writing.

She explores the epidemic of AIDS in the early 90s, mostly through minor characters, although Andrew Compton has also contracted HIV from one of the young men he murdered.

This subplot follows a group of men that Tran knows, all of whom have HIV or AIDS. This group is headed by Tran’s ex-boyfriend Luke, who spends the novel raging against his disease, and bemoaning his loss of Tran.

It is when Brite takes the perspective of Tran that we discover arguably the most frightening thing about these men – their sheer magnetism.

Their victims seem to be drawn to them because they are utterly fascinated by them.

Perhaps it is this quality possessed by Brite’s characters that makes it possible to get past the images of grotesque violence and explicit sexual behaviour. I’ll admit, part of it is pure fascination – the desire to find out what makes Andrew and Jay the way they are and what on earth they are going to do next. But what really keeps you reading are the rare moments of kindness shown by the killers, and the raw and even desperate humanity of the characters. Kara Furr

The Turn of the Screw Henry James (1898) The Turn of the Screw by Henry James is a wonderful ghost story which deals with a topic both most repulsive and fascinating to human consciousness – the corruption of childhood innocence by adult evil.

On first learning that we had to read the short novel as part of an English Studies module, I admit I was not at all excited given that I have always dreaded anything typically “horrific” as manifested in any cultural form. However, I must admit that James’s novel took me by pleasant and welcome surprise.

The finesse and elegance of the writing and the structure of the narrative immediately draws one in. The setting is suitably eerie – a company listen attentively to a ghost story narrated from an account given to the story-teller by a governess of whom he once made the acquaintance.

This woman’s experience of the presence of evil while taking care of two children at an isolated country house forms the main body of the text. However, even before we reach this point, the reader is struck by the dynamics of the opening that hint at some special relationship between the governess and the man to whom she has relayed her tale.

The almost uncanny ability of characters to guess the thoughts of others leaves the reader with a sense of wonder and awareness of the in-

herent subjectivity of narrative, as well as the difficulty of gleaning knowledge from that which is told from another’s perspective.

Despite James’ great craft in this respect, the reader is perhaps more intrigued by the beautiful children, Miles and Flora, of whom the governess is taking care. Corrupted, it would seem, by ghostly presences in the house, their behavior towards the governess and their housekeeper grows increasingly stranger as the story progresses, creating an escalating sense of tension.

They are at first trusted by their governess, who eventually finds herself unable to control her fear and suspicion to an end that is as dramatic as it is strikingly silent.

We are as unsure of the children’s corruption as much as we are of the existence of the ghosts.

The apparent neuroticism of the governess has repeatedly come under scrutiny from literary critics, yet I believe that she is aware enough of her own, concealed motivations to prove her honesty in this regard and win some respect from the reader.

The thrilling content of the story holds the reader from the beginning all the way to the dramatic close. And though typically concerned with intellectual issues, the tale is a master class in the art of narrative suspense. It is essential reading for any who wishes to relish the joys of a most excellent horror indeed this Hallowe’en.

Amy-Nora Fitzgibbon

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28 October – 10 November, 2008

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You’ll never believe your eyes Kathy Clarke talks to Joe Daly – creator and star of Magick Macabre – and manages to return to the office in one piece

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nless you’ve been walking around Dublin with your eyes closed this past few weeks, you can’t help but have noticed the posters for Magick Macabre, a new magic and illusion show that will be performed live at the Olympia Theatre from 24 October.

Joe Daly, the featured magician and brains behind the show, looks awfully scary in said posters. Rest assured he’s not in real life. In fact, he’s very chatty, friendly and talking to him is a bit like having a natter with an old friend – if any of your old friends could cut a man in half, that is.

Don’t get too comfy though, Daly isn’t at all like the camp magician at your tenth birthday party. He doesn’t pull rabbits out of hats, colourful hankies out of his sleeves or coins from behind your ear. At least not anymore. While he might have done some magic tricks in order to pay his way through college, he has moved on to a much more sophisticated (and scary) level of illusion.

This has been facilitated by teaming up with Riverdream, producers of the world famous Riverdance and, of course, horror king Wes Craven.

It all stemmed from one magical night in Blackpool when Daly was just a young boy.

Those of us who have been to Blackpool will know that on certain days it can be very magical indeed. It was here that Daly first

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came face to face with his soon-to-be hero, Paul Daniels. “That mental magician off wife swap?” you say. Yes, that’s the one.

The young Daly found himself in the front row at a Paul Daniels magic show and,

The young Daly found himself in the front row at a Paul Daniels magic show and, as fate would have it, Daniels singled him out of the crowd and summoned him on stage to help with a magic trick as fate would have it, Daniels singled him out of the crowd and summoned him on stage to help with a magic trick. When Daly found himself standing next to the lovely Debbie McGee, (she is rather lovely isn’t she?), he fell in love – with magic, that is.

As he stared into the blackness of the huge theatre, the atmosphere was electric.

“I can’t remember the trick, but I do remember looking down and not being able to see the audience because of the bright lights. I was amazed, I thought Paul Daniels had made the audience disappear!” It seems he had found his calling.

From then on in, Daly’s parents no longer had to worry about what to get young Joe for Christmas or birthdays. It was always a magic set or a prop or something in that general area.

Daly is the first to admit that, while most children – especially boys – tend to go through a “magic phase,” he never grew out of his. He has been obsessed from the very beginning. In fact, if Mummy and Daddy Daly hadn’t forced him into college (he has a marketing degree from Trinity), he would have just run off and joined the magic circus after leaving school.

In retrospect, however, he cherishes his degree as a tool for helping him break into a notoriously difficult industry. After college, a determined young man funded by a credit union loan and the proceeds of selling his car, launched, produced and directed his own show, Vapours.

The show heralded the emergence of a new art form: a magic show with unbelievable illusions and breathtaking special ef-

fects. Daly explains: “what I didn’t want to do was, here’s a trick, here’s a box, let me show you what it does.

The fact that there was a story in Vapours meant everything had a reason and it flowed naturally between each illusion. Magick Macabre has even more of a narrative. When the curtains go back, the set is there and you are in that world for the entire show. It’s meant to be a theatrical experience, like watching a play.”

Vapours toured around the country, selling out all manner of venues, including The Helix, and Daly continued to pursue his dream. He contacted some big names in the theatre world, asking them to come and see the show. One in particular took notice: John McColgan, one of the creators of Riverdance and a big fan of the horror genre.

Not only did McColgan take Daly under his wing, telling him that he had the potential to do something on a much bigger scale, he also contacted Wes Craven. More about this later, though. Suddenly, Joe Daly had been transported into the big time, creating his own major magic spectacular.

Daly is keen to iterate that Magick Macabre is not a typical magic show – and not only in the sense that it doesn’t involve leather trousers, flimsy shirts and windswept hair.

It’s much more a theatrical spectacular, combining magic, illusion, horror, comedy 28 October – 10 November, 2008

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and romance and, according to Daly, makes magic sexy – something it has never been before.

What makes the show so unique, the magician says, is the quality of the special effects. Banish thoughts of dry ice and smoke from your small little minds. These are movie-quality effects, illusions that have never been seen before specifically developed by David Copperfield’s illusion designer. If you think making the Statue of Liberty disappear was impressive, wait till you see “The Burning Alive,” “The Drill of Death” and “The Sawing in Half.” Tameness is simply not an option, as Daly explains: “Typically, when you saw someone in half, you would have a box, but we have no box. We saw from his crotch right up to his neck. After we saw him in half, we split him in half.” Don’t bring your granny along to this one, then.

The show, which was recently previewed on RTE’s The Late Late Show with Pat Kenny, is set in an asylum and is loosely based on a story Daly heard when he was a child. In a similar fashion to Vapours, Magick Macabre features protagonist Daemon Cordell, a magician who, in order to achieve the perfect magical illusion, has killed his assistants.

Caught and found criminally insane, he is put in a psychiatric facility.

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28 October – 10 November, 2008

led. Lovely stuff, so. Daly insists, though, that Magick Macabre is not just the kind of gross-out exercise typically worshipped by teenage boys (there is, in fact, a 15+ certificate for this production). “There’s actually lots of humour in the show. There’s an element of tongue-in-cheek and although Daemon is a twisted, evil, charming character on stage, there is something about him that the audience will really enjoy. The show will make you laugh when you know beyond all doubt that you shouldn’t.”

An intriguing element of Magick Macabre is that it contains no dialogue whatsoever.

Those of us who are easily confused need not worry: Daly assures me that audience members are given a comic on entering the performance space that will explain all.

Otherwise, the entire show is done through a soundtrack, and a very diverse one at that, featuring music from The Chemical Brothers, Faithless, The Prodigy with some opera thrown in for good measure. A strange mix but, then, it’s a strange show.

McColgan sent Wes Craven the show’s script – Craven, of course, being the brains behind iconic horror movies such as Nightmare on Elm Street, The Hills have Eyes and Scream. The director, despite having never been involved in a stage or theatre production before, was excited about the prospect and wanted to meet both Daly and McCol-

gan.

After a gruelling week-long meeting in Boston, Craven finally got on board (as writer for a Las Vegas version of Magick Macabre). While Daly’s original script will still be used for the Dublin production, Craven

Typically, when you saw someone in half, you would have a box, but we have no box. We saw from his crotch right up to his neck. After we saw him in half, we split him in half has changed it a little for the Vegas audience who, Daly asserts, “are really there for the gambling, so if you let them go for an interval – oh, there’s a slot machine – and you lose half of your audience.”

A show such as Magick Macabre will not only bring something entirely fresh to the

Dublin theatre scene, it will also be completely different to other magic shows in Las Vegas. Amongst productions by Penn and Teller at The Rio and David Copperfield at the MGM Grand Casino, Daly should not only hold his own but he should present a twist on traditional Las Vegas magic displays that serve purely as entertainment, minus the narrative.

Daly is absolutely delighted about the deal, citing this as the biggest break of his life. Is he worried that he won’t live up to the expectations? “Yeah absolutely. It’s a lot of pressure. But what an opportunity.”

With Craven’s input, the Vegas version will most likely prove to be pretty spectacular, but if you want to catch Daly’s show a bit sooner and a lot closer to home, you had best head down to the Olympia.

With an exciting creative team, including director Thomas de Mallet Burgess – who has directed major opera productions in Germany, Sweden, Italy, Canada, as well as in Ireland – and costume designer Joan Bergin – winner of the two Emmy Awards for The Tudors – the show has the potential to be excellent.

Daly assures me that it will scare the audience on so many levels, make them look behind them, and laugh when they really shouldn’t. Make sure you don’t miss out on the adventure.

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Trinity graduates take to the stage Kathy Clarke spoke to Nyree Yerhainharsian, a graduate of Trinity’s soon-to-be-defunct Acting Studies Course

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arlier this month, Bedrock Productions staged the Irish premiere of Lebanese-born playwright Wajdi Mouawad’s explosive and comic exploration of war-torn life, Wedding Day at the Cro-Magnons. You might say it’s a bit of a crazy play.

A family, caught up in the absurdity of war, tries to maintain some semblance of normality. It should after all be the happiest day in young Nelly’s life: she’s finally having her wedding. However, there are a number of obstacles in the way of domestic bliss. One is that the city where she lives is under continual bombardment. Another is that there’s no groom. But that will have to be sorted out later.

If that little synopsis isn’t enough to get you excited, there’s more: three of the cast members are graduates of the Trinity Acting Studies course. Ever dreamt about the exciting lives led by acting graduates? Nyree Yerhainharsian, who plays Nelly, tells all.

I managed to catch up with the young actress during a break from rehearsals and she was eager to talk about how much the Trinity acting course had helped her forward her career. “It was absolutely brilliant,” she said, “beyond anything I could have expected. I learned so much. It’s an amazing foundation for aspiring actors. If you look at how Trinity graduates are getting on and the work that they’re getting, it’s such a shame that the course is gone. Some excellent people and brilliant work have come out of it.”

Nyree could not think of a better way to get an actor’s career started; for her, the course acted as a foundation to help speed up the notoriously difficult process of finding work. An actor with training tends to know the business a little better, having worked with theatre professionals and made valuable contacts from agents coming to see Trinity showcases. “I have been working steadily since I finished,” she happily reported, “which is great. I’ve done three shows since I graduated last year including this next one. I did Phaedra’s Love with the Loose Canon Theatre Company in the Project Arts Centre, Top Girls with Galloglass, which toured the country, and I’m currently working with Bedrock.”

She enthusiastically described her most recent project.

“The play is about a family who live in the top floor of a flat block in the middle of war-torn Lebanon. There are bombs going off all over the place and snipers everywhere. They are preparing the feast for their daughter’s wedding but it’s funny because there is no fiancée – they’re just trying to pass the time to get away from the bombing. The daughter – that’s me – is narcoleptic.”

Did she have any difficulty in playing a character with such a strange condition? “It was always going to be difficult, but I’ve been working with the director now for a few months and I kind of understand what he’s looking for. We definitely had to work on specific elements of character building.”

The young actress just adored working with director Jason Byrne on the show, describing his vision of theatre as so exciting, such a different style and way of working. “It’s a whole new way of looking at theatre. A different way of dealing with actors and a different style of acting. The whole acting class worked with him on a show called Black Snow in the Samuel Beckett Theatre. That was the first time I worked with him and I’ve been intrigued by his style ever since. It’s totally untraditional and against the grain, which is great.

It’s useful for young actors to experience new ways of working before settling down.”

This run of Wedding Day at the Cro-Magnons may have come to a close last week but it’s likely that you won’t have to wait long to see Nyree on stage again.

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28 October – 10 November, 2008

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A little lame

Tara Robinson decides that Druid’s current production of The Cripple of Inishmaan is a successful, if slightly tame, effort

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et in 1934,The Cripple of Inishmaan describes the arrival of a Hollywood director to an island near the small, rural community of Inishmaan.

Not only more titillating than the reported news of a cat biting a goose’s tail, the promise of outside contact brings a particular sort of hope for Cripple Billy, an unloved boy whose chief form of amusement is gazing at cows to alleviate his endless boredom. The convenience store where Billy lives with his two elderly “aunts” is a place of communal gathering which draws on a

host of Irish theatre traditions from Synge to O’Casey.

Reaching into these traditions, AngloIrish playwright Martin McDonagh creates a world whose inhabitants are stunted and spirit-starved, where hope is a danger to the merciless orders they know and where the only surviving humour is for the audience, dark and painfully violent.

Part of the Ulster Bank Dublin Theatre Festival, this production marks yet another successful partnership between McDonagh and Druid, who have already staged his

Leenane trilogy (The Lonesome West, The Beauty Queen of Leenane, A Skull in Connemara) to much critical acclaim.

The Cripple was, of course, excellently cast and displayed wonderfully directed comic ease, pace and tension. The set was a high-budget moving construction which managed to allow for beach-side, bedroom and shop but at the expense of fluidity as all-in-black stage hands scurried around between scenes.

Perhaps this was only a small deterrent for this picky critic, the large majority of the audience clapping between each scene as an expression of their enjoyment (and indeed a sign of the production’s excellent understanding of scene development and climax).

The production was funny and refreshingly tight, but it could have been more

violent. We must ask ourselves, especially as part of a Dublin Theatre Festival in 2008 (not 1934), what purpose a play like this serves for a contemporary Irish audience.

At one point Cripple Billy says, “Well there’s plenty round here just as crippled as me, only it isn’t on the outside it shows.”

This observation is at the very heart of the play and cleverly underlies all of the entertaining dialogue and caricatures. The violence behind McDonagh’s work is what makes him one of the most original contemporary Irish playwrights and, had it not been so tame in the staging, the merciless attitude to the human condition might have come across stronger, giving us something more poignant to take away from the Olympia.

The Cripple of Inishmaan returns to Dublin from 18 to 22 November at the Pavilion Theatre, Dun Laoghaire.

Simply delirious

Aoife Griffin takes a look at Enda Walsh’s reinterpretation of a classic Dostoevsky text

laywright Enda Walsh’s Delirium is an extreme reinterpretation of Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov – a hybrid of obscene puppetry, surreal dance, and provocative animation that transports the audience to a horrorscape of a family in collapse. The play is concerned primarily with the destruction of the unattainable – the frustrated pursuit of disinterested lovers, disinterested fathers, and disintegrating spirituality.

The opening and closing of a play are instrumental in the creation of its tone and the dark, dishevelled set and unsettling soundtrack succeed in making the audience feel like they are discovering something intensely private. The stillness of the play’s exposition suggests a desperate desire for unity, love and forgiveness, concepts that

the egotistical race of humanity to nothing more than farcical, savage acts. The bursts of manic dancing emphasise the distances in the play between character and circumstance, desire and actuality, ambition and ability. We witness the servant become master, the son become father and the lover become enemy. In the process, we are taught never to assume what kind of person one is capable of becoming.

Delirium is so intense and bizarre that you find yourself clinging onto its title as the only anchor of logic that runs throughout the entire two-and-a-half-hour production. The temptation to lose yourself in the play is as seductive as it is unnerving and is prevented only by moments of extreme shock or softness that deny the possibility of a complete mental escape route. The sto-

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28 October – 10 November, 2008

Walsh explodes as the lights go up to reveal a family literally tearing itself apart.

This portrayal of a conflicted and conflicting family unit is brash, clear and honest and brings the force and arbitrary nature of obligation to the fore. The disquieting quality of Walsh’s reinterpretation of the original text lies in the characters’ acknowledgement of things that are out of the ordinary.

Alyosha’s poncho and spiritual puppet, Fyodor’s fake tan and odd costume: they are all questioned by the characters, making the disintegration of normality all the more pronounced and profound.

The utilisation of puppets by Alyosha and Smerdyakov highlights the perverse and bizarre actions of humanity, emphasising needs and desires that go unfulfilled in our interactions with others and reducing

ryline feels secondary to the performance itself, in that it is the only influence on these otherwise uncontrollable characters.

The violence and misery laid out before the audience is a force that threatens to take away hope. The final scene between Alysoha and Smerdyakov forces us to question how the idea of hope could even exist. What we see and hear is a story of unadultered depravity, with effectual use of fast moving images behind the fast-speaking Smerdyakov, the image of a memory forced to relive a knowledge it does not desire.

What Enda Walsh has given us is a play that shows hope destroyed but which reminds us that, as we watch this destruction, we are not a part of it. We are somehow saved and somehow have the chance to begin afresh. So begin.

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Fashion power Ann-Maria McCarthy looks at the role of fashion in politics from Jackie O to Michelle O

Hillary Clinton: would you vote for this outfit?

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ackie Kennedy Onassis has a lot to answer for; forty years on and we still see clones of her, both in politics and in fashion. Of course, she set the standard to which all aspiring first ladies feel almost duty-bound to follow; the classic shift dress, a subdued pea-coat and a pillbox hat are, if not the uniform, at least what we all envisage of a woman in politics. That standard is, arguably, demure, elegant, nonthreatening, and certainly not individual – all the things we expect from a woman on the outskirts of politics.

During the current American presidential campaign, Michelle Obama has faced much criticism from various parties on her “look” – she can come across as too independent and too fierce; and much of this opinion is based on her wardrobe, the sharp tailoring of which is somewhat intimidating in spite of her attempt at the traditional Jackie O look.

Notice how, after the infamous fistbump, Michelle wasn’t seen in dark colours or trousers for over a month – she knows as well as we do that pastels make her seem like more of a homemaker and less of a kick-ass lawyer. Both the Obamas staunchly emphasise their working-class roots and, although at times Michelle’s style can be glitzy and expensive, when she does pursue the support of the working classes, Azzedine Alaia is relegated to the back of her wardrobe and the more reasonable, local designs of Mario Pinto, in austere black and grey, are worn instead.

Compare this with Cindy McCain who,

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quite frankly, doesn’t do austere or subtle and most certainly does not do working class. Her look is more good old-fashioned American bling. At one of her husband’s many public appearances, she wore an ensemble that cost over $300,000. The average price for a U.S home is $200,000. To say that wearing an outfit like that when two major US banks dealing with mortgages are on the verge of collapse (not to mention the rest of the economy) is in bad taste and insensitive, would be an understatement.

Depending on your politics you will either see her as a pit-bull or a pig in lipstick, but can you really deny that that Sarah Palin has got the style for the job right? Nothing flashy, nothing overtly sexy, nothing that is going to draw criticism (for her clothes anyway). Her clothes are serious; she’s campaigning for a position that would see her sworn in if John McCain was to die in office and, therefore, has potential to be the first female President of the US. She has to show that she is a professional and if her speeches and foreign policy know-how aren’t going to make people take her seriously, she can at least look the part. As a relative unknown, her image is important as, unfortunately, many American voters will only know her by that.

Despite the fact that she didn’t win the Democrat nomination, can we begin to talk about women in politics without mentioning Hilary Clinton? And yet, perhaps understandably, fashion was never a priority of hers – she even turned down an interview with Vogue during her campaign. During

her time as First lady, she glammed-up on occasion in Oscar de la Renta but when she decided to run for Senate, her look wqas totally desexualised. Perhaps this sterile image backfired – no one could see Hilary Clinton, the person, anymore. Is that why towards the later stages of the primaries she tried a bit of femininity – blouses and pink, and crying for the television cameras? Was it simply a case of too little too late?

This apparent need to dress the part, despite the loss of individual personality, is not reserved for American women – it is visible in French counterpart, Carla Bruni, as well. Admittedly, being a former model, born in Italy and raised in France, Carla has somewhat of an edge on her competitors.

She is no stranger to reinvention, though, progressing from outrageously glamorous in the early nineties, to relaxed boho for her music career, and now, like almost every other woman in politics, she has adopted the Jackie O look.

Known for her many affairs, the boho look of Carla the singer may have accentuated her “loose woman” image – fine when she was a model but when she married French president Nicolas Sarkozy, something had to give, and the makeover was extreme but effective.

This was evidenced by the recent presidential visit to Great Britain, an undeniable publicity success; the flat sensible shoes, almost overly long pencil skirts and pill box hats that made up her wardrobe were all the papers could talk about, on their front pages, no less.

She even managed to survive the revelation of nude pictures that were published during her visit – no mean feat, particularly in the British tabloids. Whilst her look may come across a bit try hard, even fictitious, her popularity has irrefutably soared, and with a husband who is tolerated one minute and despised the next, I suspect his advisors are relieved they have the makings of a French Princess Diana in Carla.

Perhaps it is unfair to pit our own Mary McAleese against the inherent chicness of this French/Italian woman, but no-one could argue that the Irish President was ever going to be a darling of Vogue – to be fair, she has never tried to be. Her look is professional, in control, understated and competent, and she pull it off well. It may be described as boring, traditional or safe, yet that is what she is aiming for; not stylish or fashion conscious, but so that when she speaks, she is respected, and perhaps so that we care about her words, not her shoes.

Conversely, consider the effect of fashion – or more appropriately, a “look” - on these powerful women – they have all changed or adapted their style to their audience, admittedly, some with more success than others.

Why, then, does our own President not acknowledge this power? Why did Hilary obliterate every aspect of femininity in her dress, when her very gender was such a selling point in her campaign? And why does it seem that in the twenty-first century, even western society is disinclined to endorse a woman in power with femininity, strength and personality – as an individual?

28 October – 10 November, 2008

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Long live ladies Menswear is in Bridget English celebrates feminity in fashion

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ashion is a dichotomy of extremes and autumn/winter 08/09 does not disappoint in this sense. While menswear may have been one of the key trends to walk down the catwalk, femininity still reigns supreme in the accessory department.

From Lanvin to Luella, bows were all over this season’s catwalks, whether adorning hair slides, bands, belts or attached to key pieces. The season’s clothes horse is taking fashion cues from Gossip Girl’s Blair Waldorf - big, small, black or brightly coloured, dressing-up hasn’t been so much fun in years.

Emmy-winning Mad Men is also a major inspiration with vintage 60s brooches all over the high street. Never has their been a better time to raid Grandmother’s jewellery box but, failing the discovery of an heirloom or two, A-Wear has some fantastically elegant pieces.

For the more daring among you, larger eye-catching pieces are sure to revive even the most basic of looks.

While a season or two ago the fashion world was toasting Sienna Miller and her ever–changing array of oversized slouchy handbags, this season it’s all about structured chic. While the lofty heights of Chanel’s 2.55, the Hermès Birkin Bag or a classic Mulberry piece may lie beyond the average college budget, River Island and Oasis currently stock a fantastic range of similar bags.

For night-time activity, the impossibly impractical but oh-so-chic clutch is still a key look and always a favourite of

Gossip Girl’s Leighton Meester

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the fashion mavericks, so pack light and opt for polished minimalism.

Although Grace Kelly is without doubt the most iconic of royal fashion icons, this season is celebrating the unlikely Queen Elizabeth as a style maven.

While the heritage trend can sometimes be a little overwhelming, the addition of a silk scarf, as seen at D&G, is an easy way to stay demurely on-trend.

Shoe-wise, autumn/winter 08/09 is the season of the T-bar. Channel your inner Coco Chanel or 1940s housewife and look to Topshop for some of this season’s prettiest pairs. If you’re looking for something a little bit more comfortable, thank your lucky stars that flats were a key look this year. They appeared in collections by, amongst others, McQueen and Armani, with embellishment and quilting the top trends, and jewel tones also featuring heavily on the runway.

To protect against the Irish winter (read: rain, rain, rain), tights are both a practical and stylish addition to your wardrobe. Luxury lace gives a nod to one of this season’s main trends and while they might not leave you as warm, dry and toasty as your heaviest winter woollens, they promise to make you feel fabulously sophisticated Last, but certainly not least, the ultimate feminine accoutrement – pearls.

From bracelets, to earrings to chains, this is the ultimate in classic chic.

Autumn/Winter 08/09 is truly the season of the Lady; chic, elegant and classic, long live femininity.

Ana Kinsella, on the other hand, advocates a boy–ish alternative

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enswear worn as womenswear has a rich history, pioneered by style icons like Katherine Hepburn, Marlene Dietrich and Coco Chanel. And yet it remains a largely untapped goldmine for those of us growing bored of the skinny-jeans-cardigan-and-cute-top uniform which is so dominant nowadays, both on and off campus.

Menswear introduces a whole new range of shapes and forms, far removed from any girly dress you’ll pick up in Topshop. Best of all, it’s really easy to work into an outfit and can be dressed up or down.

Now, we’re not talking about Canterburys and your boyfriend’s zippy here – there are many ways to wear menswear and actually look well, as opposed to hungover.

The beauty of menswear is in its simplicity. The easiest and most basic ensemble of this kind is an oversized men’s shirt with leggings, with a belt to give it form. I prefer to belt at the hips as the waist-belt is a look that’s been done to death. Then, you can throw an oversized cardigan over the shirt. This is easily the comfiest outfit I’ve ever worn, and it’s quick, easy and versatile. You can add a girly edge in your choice of accessories.

It’s important to always keep proportion and volume in mind – if you’re wearing a huge shirt on top, you’ll want something tight and streamlined on bottom.

This is why dark leggings are perfect.

Just make sure that your shirt covers

your bum, because leggings do not automatically equal trousers, and nobody particularly wants to see the outline of your arse on display all day long.

Things to avoid when wearing menswear include anything with heavy shoulders, as it doesn’t matter how stylish the print of your boyfriend’s blazer is if it makes your shoulders look like you’re off to play American football. Also, it’s a nice idea to spend a few extra minutes on your hair or make-up if you’re going particularly masculine or voluminous, as it’ll provide a great contrast to your look and make it stand out that bit more.

You don’t have to go all-out, either. If you’re afraid of leaving your girly comfort zone completely, then just stick to accessories as a way to add a boyish edge to your outfit. Both trilbies and round bowler hats are great ways to hide a badhair day, and a pair of brown leather Oxford shoes would look great with skinny jeans .

Possibly the best thing about menswear is that it’s a cheap way to expand your wardrobe. The men’s department in Urban Outfitters is full of oversized bargains, as are Topman and H&M. You can also pick up men’s shirts for as little as 3 euro in your local charity shop or, if you don’t want to spend a penny, raid the closets of your boyfriend, your flatmates, your male friends, your brother or even your dad. They’re all veritable treasure troves of pieces that’ll transform your look from Audrey to Katherine in seconds.

Style icon Katherine Hepburn

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The dream ticket The most fascinating presidential election in decades is a screenwriter’s dream, but what kind of film it would make, asks Michael Armstrong

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ndoubtedly the pitch has already been made. A country beset by economic, political and social unrest. A discredited administration that has removed freedoms at home and damaged America’s standing abroad. An epic contest to decide who holds the most powerful office in the world. Sex, lies and ticket tape parades. Coming soon to a cinema near you - the 2008 Presidential Election.

A film adaptation of this year’s race for the White House could be with us sooner than we think, if recent history is any evidence.

Films such as Primary Colours, Recount and Oliver Stone’s upcoming W., were all made while the administration in question was still in office. All of these films focus on one particular event or figure in America’s political history, but what makes 08 (a working title) such a fascinating prospect is that any of the characters in this real life drama could carry their own film.

Take Barack Obama for example. The film could start with the story of his search to find his Kenyan roots, or his introduction to the wider world at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. With not one but two bestselling memoirs, it isn’t like there is a shortage of source material. The real question is who could portray the Senator from Illinois, who has become a cultural icon in

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his own right. Many established AfricanAmerican actors seem ill-suited for the role. Avery Brooks is a little too old, Denzel Washington a little too famed for his portrayal of Malcolm X, and Samuel L. Jackson a little too Snakes on a Plane. The thought of an Obama rally climaxing with his Ezekiel 25:17 monologue from Pulp Fiction does have a certain appeal, though.

Were I the casting agent my pick would be the immensely talented Chiwetel Ejiofor, a British actor of Nigerian parentage, who has so far only found supporting roles in films such as American Gangster and Children of Men. As for his Republican opponent, the more haggard and aged John McCain looks, the more I’m reminded of a latter day Marlon Brando. Necromancy isn’t really an option here however, so Brian Cox could stand in and adequately capture the war hero’s tenacity and temper.

I’ve a feeling Robert Redford could do a great Joe Biden, but the real casting chore would be everyone’s favourite moose-huntin’ Russian-spottin’ hockey mom, Sarah Palin. While Tina Fey’s impersonation is spot on, it wouldn’t suit the more worthy dramatic tone of many election films. Holly Hunter, on the other hand, can do bitch better than anyone, and already has the downhome folksy accent required to strike fear

Illustration: Rachel Kennedy

into the hearts of those who can name more newspapers than the would-be Presidentin-waiting.

The supporting roles in this electoral drama seem a little easier to cast, as many have been portrayed on screen before.

Emma Thompson’s portrayal of Hillary Clinton was one of the few successes of the haphazard Primary Colours, but I also think Desperate Housewives star Felicity Huffman could pull it off.

No doubt many media figures would be willing to play themselves if the money was right. This could prove helpful, as an actor would have no hope of outdoing the real John Stewart or Bill O’Reilly. With Hollywood dominated by left-leaning filmmakers such as Aaron Sorkin, however, I seriously doubt Karl Rove would be willing to poke fun at his ridiculously biased punditry. Enter Phillip Seymour Hoffman or Ricky Gervais to play the neo-conservative mastermind.

Uber-conservative Mitt Romney probably won’t be auditioning either, but there has always been an uncanny likeness between the handsome business mogul and Lost’s Matthew Fox. Don’t be surprised if the big secret at the end of that show is that they are in fact the same person.

To get people queuing in droves at the box office, however, the scandals that have decorated this campaign season from beginning to end will need some airtime. John Edward’s marital mishaps could be given pathos by the vastly-underrated Greg Kinnear, while some much needed sex appeal could be added by the injection of Transformers star Megan Fox as knocked-up teen Bristol Palin. Artistic licence, I know, but

anyone who has watched either of the campaigns’ promo advertisements will know that reality and electioneering rarely run side by side.

After the melodrama of the Clintons’ defeat and the frothy scandal of the Palin nomination has kept audiences entertained for the first half, the economic collapse could provide a perfect change of tone for the second act. At the crisis talks in the White House, Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson (John Malkovich?) could deliver an Oscarwinning “we’re screwed” speech, and we’d be all set for the big finale: election day.

The problem there is we don’t yet know how it’s all going to end. Though perhaps that’s exactly why this race has been so fascinating to watch, as with all the accusations, machinations and shifts in public opinion, only a fool would call the election today in either candidate’s favour. One option for our budding filmmaker could be to break from reality in order to keep our interest, ending with some sort of M. Night Shyamalan-style twist. Chris Rock’s theory that Obama is a robot created by Oprah could be confirmed, while in McCain’s case, maybe we’ve all been seeing dead people.

Much more likely is the film being postponed until we know just how either candidate will actually fare in office. Great films based on true events or individuals always have the gift of a little hindsight, adding pathos to our expectations, contemplation to our initial outrage. If it was only possible to pass this gift from cinemagoers to the American electorate before November, we might get the President of our dreams, not just the plotline.

28 October – 10 November, 2008

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Deep fat fry me Paul Finnegan examines the state of the noble Dublin chipper in the twenty-first century and picks his favourite from the multitude

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ack in the bleak early nineties, it fell to one man to unearth an emblem capable of uniting the masses that formed the spine of Pre-Celtic Tiger Ireland. The Van has become to Roddy Doyle’s Barrytown Trilogy what “The Dead” was to Joyce’s Dubliners: an accurate snapshot of a particular mood at a particular time in Dublin.

Perhaps more importantly, though, it provided us with arguably the most definitive symbol of the day: the humble, greasestained, brown paper bag of chips.

But what has become of Irish fast food since Doyle’s zenith? Has economic prosperity really brought an end to the day of the chipper? Is the panini (Ed. – I think you’ll find that’s “panino” Paul, you uncouth cretin, you) the new batter burger?

At least Cork still has Lennox’s which, if boards.ie can be taken as a representative source of insight into public opinion, is more than a fine-dining emporium but a prominent social institution.

With a strange stirring of local pride, I set out with a chip-loving friend to see if we could find Dublin’s equivalent to the Corkonian powerhouse.

Although its distance from the city might undermine its claims to be a truly great Dublin chipper, the cultural significance of

Dino’s in Terenure cannot be understated.

This is the place that inspired Thin Lizzy’s “The Boys are Back in Town” where “Friday night they’ll be dressed to kill/ Down at Dino’s Bar and Grill.”

To be honest there wasn’t much dressing to kill the night we called in there. Nor was “the jukebox in the corner blasting out my favourite song.” Maybe things have changed since Phil Lynott’s day, but unfortunately one can’t help but feel that if the boys were indeed back in town, they’d probably want to find somewhere else to hang out pretty quickly.

Despite Dino’s connections, Burdock’s near Chirstchurch probably has the most rightful claim to being the chipper with the most celebrity-points in Dublin. According to local lore (and owner Leo), it’s here that Bono, the Edge, Larry Mullen and the other guy have been known to come after a high octane night out with Louis Walsh and Mary Black.

The U2 frontman is also known to drop by when he decides he needs to do some field research to make sure he’s still in touch with the common man he’s so desperately fixated on believing he can relate to.

U2-based revulsion aside, Burdock’s is one of the most noteworthy chippers in this collection mainly because it can honestly

The grape guide

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Photo: Nikita Kashner

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erlot is certainly a huge player in the red wine market. It is characteristically low in tannic bitterness which allows for its easy consumption almost as soon as the grape is squeezed.

Bordeaux is the ancestral home of the grape. The coolness and dampness of the region means that Cabernet-Sauvignon (Bordeaux’s primary grape) cannot always ripen, so Merlot, with its resilience and mellow character, can be found blended with some of the best Cabernet-Sauvignons imparting its richness and subtlety to the mix.

Elsewhere in Europe, Merlot has been adopted in response to its popularity. An area to look out for is Ticino. This Italianspeaking region of southern Switzerland produces some superb Merlots. They tend to be soft and easy to drink but some ultrafruity examples can be found and some wines, after being aged in oak barrels, can be very distinctive and unique.

In the New World, wine can have an in-

claim to be properly old-school. In fact, the owners are so keen to respect its noble tradition that they refuse even to serve burgers. The chips are grease-tastic and for the coppers at the bottom of your wallet they’ll throw in a nice ladle full of those little crispy bits of chip. Nice.

However, the perfect chipper should be always only a stroll away so Burdock’s is out. Closer to home, Sophister students will undoubtedly lament the recent shut down of Seashell which was, until last year, the closest chipper to campus. Granted, they mightn’t always have maintained the highest hygienic standards, but anywhere that will deep fat fry anything (within reason) you bring in off the street is hygienic enough in my book.

Still within close range of the Hamilton there is a reasonable alternate in Lido on Pearse St., a chipper with little to really distinguish itself from the pack – although the staff ’s striped uniforms do give lend the place a bit of class.

The classic chipper has always played an important role as a great social leveller and for that reason Roma II on Camden St. (a hotspot for traditional fast food joints) simply must be mentioned. Bringing together the Whelan’s and Flannery’s crowds with a mutual sense of purpose is this establishmment’s greatest achievement and one which shouldn’t be overlooked. Roma II might not be the cleanest place to eat but the food is generally tasty, if slightly tending towards to soggy side of greasy.

Also nearby is Angelo’s on Wexford St. The proprietors here will very kindly let

you bring in your own bread to make a delectable chip butty and, in doing so, beat the recession one chip sandwich at a time.

All the aforementioned places have a certain degree of merit but are really a preamble to the announcement of the finest chipper in the city: Aprile – again on Camden St. The frites here are simply fantastic; that should be taken as granted. It’s the other, seemingly more trivial details that set this chipper apart.

Firstly, there are the reasonably priced Wurly burgers, the in-house name for a battered burger in a bun, a simple but ingenius combination. Secondly, there is the close proximity to the canal, where on a quite night you can grab a relaxing waterside bench from which to enjoy your late-night feast.

However, what really confirms Aprile’s status is the fact that it is the number one choice among the gardaí patrolling the city at night (notice the squad cars usually parked outside and prevalence of uniforms in the queue). If anyone knows their chips I’m willing to guess these guys do.

Appropriately enough, we have just seen the twenty-second Worldwide AntiMcDonalds Day come and go. But perhaps organisers McSpotlight don’t really need to go to all the effort of pointing out the nutritional calamity of your Big Mac Meal, the sinister manipulative techniques used in McD’s advertising or the environmental damage they’ve unleashed on the Amazon.

Just give the world an Aprile Wurly burger and chips and wipe that smile off Ronald’s face.

Merlot is distinguished by its sweetness and simplicity, suggests Shane Quinn dustrial efficiency about it and often lacks the personal touch of the age-old estates in Europe. There are, of course, exceptions and Chile has shown itself to be the leader of the pack. The wines here are of surprisingly high quality. Really fruity and rich Merlot is blended with the lesser-known grape Carmenere to form some great wines which are best drunk young.

Australia, on the other hand, doesn’t do Merlot very well at all. The same can be said of California; however, other regions in the States produce some fine grapes, my favourite being Washington State.

The grape is surprisingly flexible when it comes to food. Most game (pigeon, goose, duck) is well complemented with simple and even cheap Bordeaux. The low tannin content means that Merlot isn’t great for red meat but it would still wash down pork or liver quite well. Sometimes, though, it is enjoyed best without food.

If you’re having finger food then note that Merlot is a perfect partner for Parma

ham, and New World Merlot enhances “hard” cheeses such as Prima Donna (Holland), Doddington (United Kingdom) and Pecorino Toscano Stagionato (Italy). For soft cheeses try a Chilean Merlot with Brie de Nangis (France) or even Brillat Savarin (France).

The sheer popularity of Merlot means that one doesn’t have to look very far for a cheap bottle.

I personally recommend Karu Merlot (2006), which you can pick up for € 6.99 in O’Briens. This Chilean wine is simply delightful and shockingly cheap. It has fruitiness to spare and will leave your mouth watering long after your final sip. Having roast beef this Sunday? Cook it rare and make sure to serve this with it.

Château Tarreyrots (2005) from Bordeaux is also a treat and at €11 from O’Briens, it’s a bargain too. Its subtlety is perfect for any lamb dish. It’s also perfect on its own and could be enjoyed with snacks or at a buffet.

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Film reviews

director

David Keopp

starring

Ricky Gervais, Greg Kinnear, Tea Leoni

running time

102 minutes

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Ghost Town

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y Ne ws

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Ricky Gervais is a household name in the UK and Ireland, yet remains relatively unknown in America outside of a small but loyal fan base. The Office never aired in the States and although the Steve Carrellled remake is a huge success and Extras was picked up by HBO last year, Gervais is still unfamiliar to mainstream American audiences.

Ghost Town, however, marks the arrival of Ricky Gervais as a leading man and his first major role in a Hollywood film, after supporting performances in films like Stardust and Night At The Museum. His decision to star in this film, however, is slightly strange. After all, Gervais has stated in the past that he plans to quit acting to focus on writing and directing. He has also stated that he fears the effects that fame and celebrity will have on his life.

So starring in a large Hollywood production seems rather odd, even counterintuitive, if we are to believe these claims.

But perhaps Gervais, who supposedly is constantly bombarded with movie scripts, just really liked this one and thought he’d give it a shot. In any case, starring in one film does not necessarily mean that Gervais will star in a dozen more. Maybe I’m making too much out of this career choice; after all, the film, while not wildly creative or interesting, is an enjoyable comedy that

is often heartfelt without being mawkish.

Ghost Town was directed and co-written

by David Keopp, director of Secret Window and writer of Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull and Spiderman. Other than the star, the film relies heavily on Greg Kinnear and Tea Leoni, who are wonderful in their roles, but it is Gervais’s performance that holds the film together. Any other actor in his role, such as fellow British export Hugh Grant, would make the film unbearable.

The typical romantic-comedy conventions are all present in this film, but while some scenes and ideas are gimmicky or ill-conceived, Gervais is such an atypical rom-com lead that the film avoids becoming trite. Instead, Gervais brings his usual persona to the picture to make it engaging and fun for the audience.

Gervais’s character, Bertram Pincus, is a misanthropic dentist who can see ghosts after temporarily dying during a standard hospital operation. His accident is caused by a surgeon played by the very amusing Kristen Wig, best known for her work on Saturday Night Live and small roles in Knocked Up, Semi-Pro and Walk Hard. Their doctor-patient consultations are one of the comedic highlights of the film, but sadly she only appears in the first twenty minutes.

Unfortunately for our hero, he can now

not only see ghosts, but hear them as well.

Greg Kinnear plays Frank, the recently expired husband of Gwen (Tea Leoni), who, through a mixture of threats and stalking, persuades Pincus to try and break up his ex-wife’s new engagement. Gwen is set a marry Richard, a human rights lawyer Frank is convinced is a horrible man.

Pincus agrees in the hope that once the engagement is off, Frank will leave him alone.

Despite successfully breaking up the engagement, Pincus predictably falls in love with Gwen. This lasts until he makes one too many references to her dead husband, and she becomes suspiscious, feels violated, and leaves. Frank remains to tag along, wondering why he hasn’t ascended yet, and Pincus, once again, is alone. Near the end of the film, after another, more real near-death experience that corresponds to Frank’s ascension, Pincus has a moment of revelation. He decides to help the other nagging ghosts, learns the benefits of helping people, and becomes a better person in the process. I realise this sounds like nothing new, but it is a credit to the filmmakers that the final act manages to be very affecting and emotional.

My main criticism with the film is rather arbitrary and it does not negate any previously stated positive aspects.

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While I admit that I did enjoy the film, due to its conventional plotline and message, I would have never wanted to see it were it not for Ricky Gervais’w presence.

While it doesn’t have the bite and intelligence of his other work, Ghost Town is enjoyable, and this wouldn’t be possible without his involvement. It might be a mark of the snobbery many bring to the rom-com genre that I’m wary of praising it without restraint or qualification. Though the comedic and emotional scenes are clearly signposted throughout, it does not make them any less enjoyable or affecting.

Therefore, despite a lack of originality, the film succeeds in its intentions.

Ghost Town will undoubtedly do better in this part of the world than it did in America. The film was released in the states less than a month ago, and is already no longer in cinemas, taking only $11.5 million. This is an undeniable box office flop, but stateside reviews were wholly positive, praising Ricky Gervais in particular.

One factor could have been the truly awful publicity campaign that failed to get across any of the worth of the actual film.

We should however, always be sceptical of those who equate financial success with artistic merit, given the highest grossing film in America last week was Beverly Hills Chihuahua. Christopher Kelly

28 October – 10 November, 2008

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Film reviews

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In my Irish Politics class the other day, the lecturer was outlining our course for the year, but when he talked about the north, he referred only to the problem of Northern Ireland. Not the state, people or culture, just the problem.

It’s an attitude I’ve become aware of in the two years I’ve lived down here, ever since I had to explain to a Londoner in Freshers’ Week that Ulstermen were not, in fact, inbred slum-dwelling terrorists.

Like many, I’m proud to be neither British nor Irish, but Northern Irish, coming from a generation that became politically aware at the time of the Good Friday Agreement. There’s a goodnatured humility and honesty to the people of Ulster that is unique, and I was reminded of it by of all things, a brutal depiction of one of the province’s darkest moments.

Other than an irreverent song that makes light of his death, I don’t know much about Bobby Sands, the IRA hunger striker and Republican martyr. I came to Steve McQueen’s Hunger fearing he would receive some sort of exaggerated, heroic treatment on screen, similar to the messianic tone of The Motorcycle Diaries.

To McQueen’s credit, his film makes no cheap political point. Far from focusing on Sands, Hunger constantly shifts perspectives from inmates to guards to RUC officers, showing how trapped they all are by the situation.

Any blame is placed on Thatcher’s

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British government, who deny the prisoners political status while forcing ordinary prison guards to quite literally clean up their mess and face the deadly reprisals of the IRA. After charting the appalling conditions of the Maze prison, the film coalesces in a scene between Sands, played with gruesome realism by Michael Fassbender, and his priest, played by Liam Cunningham.

What starts as awkward banter between two men soon turns into an argument about what, if anything, is worth dying for. Then again the focus shifts, as it should, to the personal tragedies that have left such deep scars on the Northern Irish psyche.

Sands recounts a tale from his childhood, and what was moving about his story was that it was not specific to one community or the other, but an experience any Northern Irish person could identify with - having the pride in your identity met with superiority and derision from others.

It’s a question every one of us faces eventually: how can we be proud of a country many think should not exist?

What makes Hunger superb is that in answering this question it ignores divisive political issues and focuses on the things that unite Ulster people.

The film ends with a scene on a bus, with a song I used to sing when I was a kid. I hadn’t realised the song was so old.

I hadn’t realised we all knew it.

Michael Armstrong

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The Fall

Watching Tarsem Singh’s The Fall, there is little doubt that one is beholding the work of a cinematic auteur. This enchanting adventure fantasy explores the unique possibilities of combining the medium of film with the act of storytelling.

The film begins in a 1915 LA hospital with five-year-old Alexandria (Catinca Untaru), who has broken her arm while working in the family’s orange groves.

She meets and befriends a movie stuntman called Roy (Lee Pace) who is bedbound after injuring his spine while performing a stunt. This depressed hero, who has lost his girlfriend to a leading man, begins to spin a tale about five mythical heroes seeking revenge on the evil provincial governor Odious.

As Roy weaves the stories of an exslave, an explosives expert, an Indian, Charles Darwin and a masked blue bandit into an elliptical fantasy tale, they come alive to Alexandria with all the beauty and dramatic richness of a child’s imagination.

The magic of Roy’s tales for Alexandria soon begins to mirror the magic of film art for the viewer. In the beautifully natural performance of Untaru, the virtue of a child’s free imagination is used to explore the act of reassembling stories using familiar motifs from reality.

This demonstrates the defining characteristic of an auteur, an individual capable of tapping into the universality of human nature.

All the way through, this makes for a

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complex viewing experience. We are confronted by a bold combination of operatic, absurd and melodramatic elements.

Despite this visual excess, the film never becomes a distanced, coldly cerebral affair. We quickly learn that Roy tells his tales in order to get Alexandria to steal some morphine from the hospital dispensary, part of his plan to commit suicide.

There is a deeply emotional element to the central friendship, demonstrating the healing power of storytelling, while reminding us that sometimes our psyches render our stories too large for us to deal with. This is true for Roy, who can only find a happy ending through Alexandria’s belief, curiosity and companionship.

There is also something complex and compelling about the way lush colours and desert landscapes speak in the film, without ever overpowering the voices of the characters. The Blue City ruled by Odious, the labyrinthine high fortresses and desert sand, all dramatise the harsh and dark plight of humanity.

This haunting and endearing film raises a number of questions regarding human morality. As the tale reverses the story of the fall, the true magic of its artistic endeavour is made apparent. Our two injured protagonists imaginatively rise above the frail humanity around them, while the director’s use of universal themes allows him to craft a prodigiously individual film. Eglé Zinkuté

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CD Reviews ity Ne Trin w

James Murphy and Pat Mahoney

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The Bootleg Series Vol. 8 - Tell Tale Signs: Rare and Unreleased 1989-2006

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soul, Mown and Eighties disco. Murphy and Mahoney open the mix with an exciting and up-lifting instrumental by Peter Gordan and the Love of Life Orchestra who set the tone with the sound of soaring trombone and saxophone solos over a steady drum beat. By the time the second track, the sensual croonings of Baby Oliver’s Eighties-inspired disco classic Primetime, had smoothly rolled in I was already captivated.

And the album just keeps getting better.

The two musicians/producers keep coming with track after track, perfectly mixed and remixed tunes, each one completely different from the next but yet some how managing to blend together in a way that makes it seem like they were never played separately. The album really opened my eyes to all the great 70s and 80s music that never gets a mention.

Intoxicatingly brilliant, it should not be missed: start your love affair with James Murphy now. If you get as much enjoyment out of his music as I have over the last five years, you won’t be disappointed.

Maeve Storey

artist

Listening to Tell Tale Signs is often like trawling through a writer’s first drafts: more intriguing for what it reveals about the process of composing songs than for the quality of the songs themselves.

I don’t mean to suggest that the album – which collects live and unreleased recordings from 1989 to the present, many of them early versions of tracks on Time Out of Mind, Love and Theft, and Modern Times – isn’t good. There isn’t a bad song on it.

It’s just that many of them appear in more polished form on the studio albums.

The two versions of “Mississippi” here, for example, are perfectly decent in themselves but, to my mind, the acoustic take is over-ponderous and the second effort unnecessarily restrained. Neither comes close to the faster, rollicking blues of the Love and Theft version – definitely that album’s stand-out track. The difference is the contribution of Dylan’s band, which is also muted on a recording of “Ain’t Talking” that lacks the haunting quality it has on Modern Times. Nonetheless, these versions, and those of “Everything Is Broken” and “Dignity,” amongst others, do

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James Murphy. What a man. Just saying his name brings a smile to my face and quite literally sweet sweet music to my ears.

Mr Murphy is the front man and creative genius behind LCD Soundsystem and when he’s not writing and touring with them, he can be found producing, DJing and signing other budding electro acts to his dance-punk record label DFA. The multi-talented bastard.

After his sensational gig in the Button Factory last Friday, to celebrate his sheer awesomeness, I just had to include a review of his Fabriclive album, mixed alongside fellow band member Pat Mahoney in 2007. It might not be a new release but, hell, if you were at the gig you know that you need to go out and buy it and even if you weren’t and have never even heard of the man himself you still need to go out and buy it.

When I first heard this album, this time last year, I was blown away. Expecting and in some ways hoping for something resembling the familiar electronic beats of LCD, I was hit by an explosion of funk,

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stand up in their own right as well as encouraging the listener to reconsider their better-known counterparts. For Dylan, a song never exists in one version alone.

The live recordings are a mixed bag.

The best of them are the intimate “Girl On the Greenbriar Shore”and a swaggering, growling “Lonesome Day Blues.”

There are also strong interpretations of Bill Haley’s “Miss the Mississippi” and Ralph Stanley’s more recent “The Lonesome River.” The soundtracks, “Huck’s Tune” and especially “Crossing the Green Mountain”, are lyrically sensitive but musically a little flat. But the absolute stand out track – and one of the few that, amazingly, can’t be found elsewhere – is “Red River Shore”. Crooned in a gravelly-silky voice which seems on the point of cracking at any moment, and with a restraint that makes it genuinely moving, it is as poignant a reflection on disappointed love, world-weariness and religious longing as Dylan has recorded.

This album repays many listens and supports Dylan’s exalted reputation of recent years. Alex Runchman

28 October – 10 November, 2008

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Restaurant reviews

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(01) 6775651

Located on Suffolk Street, Pacino’s is an extremely convenient place to go for a meal before a night out or simply somewhere to eat without having to worry about spending your month’s grocery budget. What makes this restaurant stand out from its competitors is the quality service it offers. The staff here are very friendly and attentive. It must be said that the evening we chose to review it, there was a table of forty that demanded a lot of attention and, as a result, there were one or two slight blunders. Nevertheless, I would still recommend this fine, competitively priced establishment.

The interior is fairly pleasant and the music is at just the right level to allow banter but, at the same time, enhance the ambience. I do feel the need to point out one detail in the décor, though: our table was at the front of the restaurant and in the lovely brickwork on the walls were drilling holes in plain sight. It did not make the best first impression, considering it would have been perfectly possible to cover the unsightly DIY evidence. Perhaps it was just our table, but it would be desirable for the management to fix this detail.

Also, when it comes to service there were a few timing errors and our waiter did forget to give us a dessert menu (it

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28 October – 10 November, 2008

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took roughly 35 minutes for him to bring the menu). To make things worse, we had to ask him for spoons when we were eventually served our dessert. At the same time, he was a very nice man and we could forgive these mistakes due to the busy evening.

The final teeny tiny black mark, if we are to be really fussy, is that the table had been set to the wrong side, which I did not notice as, like the waiter, I am left handed.

When it comes to the food, our party ordered a variety of items from the menu, and one thing has to be said: the food really is amazing value for money.

Only three of our party of five, ordered starters: Naan and Sencha both ordered the barbecued ribs at €6.50 a pop, and I ordered the goat’s cheese salad with green lettuce, cherry tomatoes, and mango, drizzled in a honey dressing.

The Pacino’s special barbecue sauce was indeed special as both the boys agreed it was the highlight of their starter with a nice zingy touch. However, on the down side, one plate of ribs was in fact, rib-less.

The goat’s cheese salad was rather tasty with its combination of savoury cheese, sweet mango, leafy green lettuce, honey dressing and juicy cherry tomatoes. It was also quite good value at €8.95 for a medi-

um-sized salad.

Naan and Sencha both ordered the nine-ounce fillet of steak at €24.95. The response to the tenderness and cooking of the steak (Sencha preferring his steak as rare as possible) was two thumbs up as the chef had cooked them exactly as ordered – rare (excuse the pun) in Ireland.

Ms Mango ordered a large Cajun salad as she was in a bit of a rush and the response to the salad was most positive indeed. She remarked that it combined just the right amount of Cajun spices to compliment the green salad, beef tomatoes, and juicy pineapple pieces (and I dare say the Pinot Grigio helped).

Mr Mango, on the other hand, ordered a twelve-inch Pacino’s pizza and not a scrap was left. The dough was not too deep and the toppings were neither burnt nor under cooked: a good pizza overall and again very good value for money at €14.95.

I ordered the chicken Gratella, which consisted of strips of chicken breast that had been basted in olive oil and herbs, then grilled and served with a Cajun creamy tomato-based sauce that had a nice little kick to it, and potato wedges, for €15.50.

For dessert, the party (sans Mr & Ms Mango) each ordered a different dessert. I ordered the orange crème brûlée (€6.25),

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which had slight undertones of vanilla since the citrus orange tang was the dominant flavour within the crème. The crème topping had the correct amount of brown sugar for the flame to create a nice, crisp top layer without hindering the crème itself. If I am going to be particular about my crème standards, I would suggest perhaps a little less egg and a tiny bit more double cream to improve the texture and make it a tiny bit less “eggy” – a minor detail and a personal taste at that.

Sencha ordered the banoffee pie, which went down a treat, and at €5.95 it was quite a surprise that it was so tasty.

Finally, Naan had the strawberry cheesecake which, like the crème brûlée and the banoffee, was rather good – not too strong and not bland in the slightest.

The perfect end to a pleasant evening.

After the meal the cellar bar (formerly La Bodega) is a nice place to sit down, have some wine from the bar and, if you get a little peckish, there are hot and cold tapas available to order.

On the weekends, there is live music and the general atmosphere is rather laid back, with a mildly romantic feel to it. Perhaps an ideal place to take your significant other, as it really is a hidden gem.

Melanie O’Reilly

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