A Blog About Literature, Music, Culture, Politics and Anything.
Contact me at my e-mail address at vikki.littlemore@live.co.uk
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At 6.30 pm this-evening, there will be a debate about David Cameron’s plan to turn off all social media sites during times of riot. Yes, this measure may prevent people conspiring and communicating; arranging meeting places, and drumming up hysteria, which is a very important factor, but there are two very big reasons that I personally think social media should stay open for business at all times.
1. EVIDENCE
After the event, there can surely be few more effective ways of catching hold of the perpetrators of crimes than having cold, hard evidence published on the internet. A tweet saying; ‘Let’s meet at 4.00pm and throw a firework through Topshop’s window’, or a photograph on Facebook of a grinning hoodie, proudly brandishing his new trainers for all to see, and the inevitable boastful comments that would accompany it, would undoubtedly be invaluable in securing enough evidence for conviction. During the riots of the last few days, I heard Caitlin Moran describe this very idea as ‘Giving them enough rope to hang themselves’.
We will never compete with their vanity and short-sightedness, and all we need do is sit back and allow them to incriminate themselves.
2. POSITIVE COMMUNICATION
Only those people who relied on Twitter throughout the riots this week will appreciate the inadequacies and shortcomings of the televised news services. While Sky News and the BBC were playing down events, trying to pretend it wasn’t happening, and then when they eventually had to acknowledge it, showing hours-old footage, repeating the same limited cannon of clips, and creating a very limited perspective for viewers relying solely on television, some of us were on Twitter. One only had to click on the hashtag #londonriots, and you were immediately inside the action. People were tweeting from the streets, in the middle of what was going on, people were tweeting about what was going to happen before it did, so that the news spread across the internet, able to forewarn, and preclude. Photographs were coming from journalists, live onto the Twitter newsfeed, reliable sources were sharing the experience with the world, ordinary people were able to ask for help, express their fear, and sadness, and unite. It isn’t an exaggeration to say that on Twitter for those few nights the wartime spirit of the 1940′s was very much alive. Matters were discussed, shared, and wholly illuminated and verified without bias. There was no agenda to the information, and the sources provided photographs. On the first night, before I’d even heard anything about it on the news, I lay in bed, glued to my Blackberry, until five in the morning, and I felt so immersed in the action, so much part of the London unity, that my own life and surroundings felt distant, and surreal.
I can never fully express just how important those few nights of shared communication were, to the people who needed help, and to feel part of a community. To the people who were inside their homes, terrified, but comforted by the entire world, talking to them on Twitter, or those of us who were far away from London, and wanted to feel in-the-loop. No amount of televised news coverage could have competed with the information shared on Twitter during the riots, and even in organising the clean-up process. I hope the politicians make this a consideration in their decision.
Yes, people may have used the social media to organise, but an equal number of people were warned about where the violence was spreading, and were able to move away from the area, or pre-empt it. I think, in this case, more good would be lost, by losing that valuable facility for communication, than harm prevented by stopping the conspirational organising.
On Friday I concluded, definitively, that the perfect way to spend an English summer evening is in the park, with open air theatre, a basket full of food, and a blanket wrapped around you. I spent another wonderful evening at Grosvenor Park Open Air Theatre, this time to see Merlin and the Woods of Time. The atmosphere inside the walls is beautiful; glasses of wine, picnic baskets, deck chairs, people snuggled in blankets, all as the sun is slowly sinking behind the trees, and the air is soft and chill.
The production opens in a burst of energy and laughter, with a full-scale theatrical number, musical ensemble, with the whole cast on stage (or should I say ‘On the bark chippings’?). The laughter of the audience, in particular the children, pierced the air. When the kazoos came out, and the cast began parading around, blowing them, it was hilarious, and you could hear children laughing unreservedly. Every so often, throughout the performance, the quiet of the auditorium would ring with the mischievous chuckle of a child, clearly showing that the children not only followed the plot rapturously, but that they got the jokes as well.
Bright, rich costumes, and vividly coloured puppets created an exciting and vibrant feast for the eyes. A clever device was used, in the form of two sports commentators (with stereotypical voices), who were extremely funny, and created a lot of energy, and, together with the rest of the cast, kept the performance highly dynamic. The humour is hard to pigeon-hole, as it was mainly very family friendly, often decidedly so, but occasionally a line or gesture was thrown in that was unsuitable for the children in the audience, but hopefully went over their heads. It wasn’t entirely child-suitable, but as a whole experience, it’s very family orientated.
The characters are larger than life, and make it a kind of pantomime, but with the alfresco freshness of Summer. Mordred, for example, played wonderfully by Robert Mountford, enters with energy, boldness, and loudness. Again, very cleverly funny.
Every so often a line, or gesture, absolutely lit me up with joy. For example, Lancelot being described as; ‘A bilingual, metro-sexual fairy’, or the moment when a siren went past outside at the precise moment of David Hartley’s line; ‘It makes all sounds melodious’, with a small inclination of his head, which couldn’t have been better timed if it had been planned.
Robert Mountford had a tendency, being tall and dressed dramatically all in black, to steal each scene he was in, no less than his shining moment, for me, when he came in as though he’d been decapitated, with the costume making it look as though he were holding his head under his arm, and he began to dance, which was so delightfully funny. The giggles of children and adults alike could be heard above the music.
Lancelot, played perfectly by Paul-Ryan Carberry, was a pompous, dense fop, but played with intelligent humour.
When I saw As You Like It last week, I fell in love with Rosie Jones and her Maxine Peake spunk. This week, as Elaine in Merlin, she didn’t disappoint. One of my very favourite moments of the night was when someone asked; ‘Would you like some wine?’, and Elaine replied; ‘I would not! I am having a pie’. It was one of those beautiful Waynetta Slob moments, with perfect comedic timing. The later scenes whirl up into a dizzying chaos, as potions are brewed and drunk, time is warped, and the stage is flooded with the entire cast. Throughout one of the most chaotic scenes, Rosie Jones (or should I say ‘Elaine’?) is walking around the edge of the audience, hunched over, eating a pie that she has just fallen in love with, thanks to one of the potions, giving disgusted and aggressive glares at the audience members.
Natalie Grady, who plays Morgana, made two appearances as a seemingly unassuming cleaning lady, dressed in overalls and headscarf, singing the Vera Lynn song; We’ll Meet Again, which could be perfectly unremarkable moments in the production, but for Grady’s growling delivery, and northern tea-lady charm, which was hilarious.
Alan McMahon’s Merlin, a tall, spindly figure, was camp, dapper, and Leslie-Neilson-posh. His delivery and performance were completely golden in terms of comedy, so beautifully effeminate, and twinkly-eyed, and nimble-limbed. In terms of the funny lines, his delivery was spot-on.
Nicholas Asbury’s commentator injected high-energy comedy, usually installed just above the audience’s heads in the special commentator’s box, he was wickedly funny, and the scenes with Poor Dee The River Girl were hilarious, especially the fight with the White Knight. Any time a man is wearing a platinum wig, and fighting another man twice his size, only good things will happen.
The finale is grand, with another large-scale musical number, which leaves you on a note of feel-good warmth and energy. I got a real feeling that the cast love what they’re doing, and they want their audience to enjoy it. As a production, Merlin feels very warm-hearted, with wit and pomp, and theatricality, but all in the bliss of a park on a summer night.
Another perfect evening in the park, it really is the only way to spend a summer evening in England. Go, while you still can!
My Mum said she felt 'Pampered', what with the delicious picnic we'd brought, and the comfy striped cushions we were given by the lovely people on the ticket desk.
I live in a world filled with bowls of pasta, cups of tea, and Aaron cardigans. I live a sheltered life in a town where very little happens. On Sunday night I stayed awake all night, until 5.00 am, glued to Twitter, reading with horror about London being destroyed. I have a deep love of London, of the places, street names, buildings, and the people. Seeing the photographs of a very particular type of person setting it alight gave me a lurch in the stomach, and made me feel intensely sick.
Tonight, after following the events solely on Twitter, I turned on the news, and, as much as I hate clichés, my mouth fell open, and I almost cried. Seeing the destruction and brainless violence, by people who won’t even show their face, brings me to tears. How inhuman and de-socialised do you have to be, how intensely do you have to feel separate to the country you live in, to want to destroy it?
I’ve grown up in England, and feel it in my bones. As furious and disenchanted as I am sometimes with the Government and the way the country’s run, I never feel separate to Britain; I feel part of something very special. As an Englishman I feel part of a nation that once ruled an empire spanning most of the world, in spite of the fact that we’re a very small island. In Britain we have something very, very noble and special, and only people who have come from outside and don’t feel part of it could ever want to hurt it.
The fact that a man was killed by the police (a man who pulled his gun out first) may have ignited the first fire, but the brainless vigilantes who are sucking everything they can find out of every shop, and burning every building they come across, are not looting in the name of Mark Duggan.
Living in quiet, middle-class England, I understand that the Police have shortcomings, and are often guilty of corruption, but on a basic level they’re there to protect us. If I’m in trouble; if someone breaks into my house, or I’m attacked on the way home, I ring the Police, and they come. If I ring them then shortly after, they come and fix my problem. With a few exceptions, they are good men and women. Policemen do a job passionately, and they are a strong force to stand up for people who follow the law. I wish desperately that I could make the young people in London who feel so outrageously indignant about Police brutality realise that you only get shot by Police if you shoot them first, or put yourself in a position where they point their guns at you. People who work hard, follow the law, and lead normal, quiet lives, will never face the barrel of a Police gun, or any gun. Mark Duggan died because of the life he lead.
Any sympathy that might have been afforded to these people, any respect, or consideration, has been wiped out in fire. No-one will ever take them seriously again, and they’ve sealed the same fate for everyone else. When the students protested back in December, I felt so strongly that it would have been far more effective, instead of rioting and causing violence, to sit in the road outside Westminster, and outside the party offices, in complete silence, to stop traffic. Imagine if the politicians had to step over thousands of silent, staring faces, who wouldn’t move. How much more dramatic and powerful would that have been?
Violence is one of those things in life which is totally counter-productive, and does the opposite of what you want it to.
The people destroying London are not British, and are not human. British people would never destroy any city, let alone London, and I hope that doesn’t make me sound racist, but we love London.
Copyright Grosvenor Park Open Air Theatre
Last night I spent a Summer’s evening amongst striped deckchairs and strawberries, at Grosvenor Park in Chester. I’d gone to see As You Like It. My expectations were somewhat mixed, because from outside the secluded, fort-like open air theatre, standing with the peasants in the park, the impression is of something quite unsavoury, almost like being at the back of a circus tent, or fairground. When I walked in, however, I was immediately transported. I was in a world of people sitting in deckchairs, or around the seating terraces, eating food and drinking glasses of wine that sparkled. I was in a world of soft blankets around people’s shoulders, hampers from Carluccio’s (included with the VIP ticket), strawberries and clinking plates. I was suddenly at ease, found a spot on the front row of the tiers, and settled into my meagre feast of strawberries, watermelon, and Pringles. As the pleasant hum of conversation, and picnic-clinking babbled merrily along in the soft evening sun, no-one noticed a man enter the stage, until he spoke. The audience was taken by surprise, mouths still full of pasta or, in one case, a carefully assembled Eton Mess, constructed from Tupperware with strawberries, ice-cream, and meringue in them. Suddenly the performance had started, whether we were ready or not.
The Guardian described this production as; ‘Idylic’, and The Stage; ’nigh on faultless’. I can only reiterate those words. It was a blissful experience.
After the initial abruptness of the opening, when the audience were caught on the back foot, following the initial exchange between Orlando and Oliver, which felt absolutely fraternal, and something much more than just stage fighting, there was an intensity to the physical contact between the two actors that really felt like they were two brothers, the audience (I felt) was suddenly woken from the unsettled beginning by the startling entrance of Charles, the wrestler, played by Rob Compton. Like a bright light, this Sid Vicious character with punk hair and black leather came in with such energy (and David Beckham looks), it was a shot in the arm. He had wildness, a cockney accent, with a genuine blood-lust for his opponent, straight out of the Sex Pistols. As Rob Compton displays a much softer side in later scenes, as other characters, his ferocity in this scene is really impressive .
Only two things, for me, stopped the production being perfect. I wasn’t that keen on the stainless steel trees which are part of the set, and I think they would have worked much better in another material, perhaps more natural and realistic, even real trees. The metallic effect is contemporary and modern, but in the middle of such beauty and the greenery of the park on a summer night, with the real trees hanging over the walls, the unnatural hardness of the stainless steel felt, to me, ugly.
The other thing, the only other thing, is the use of jeans as trousers for the men, an unnecessary incongruity, which (for me) spoiled the otherwise perfect costumes, which were elaborate, luxurious, and looked absolutely lived-in, and well-worn, and looked like real clothes, rather than costumes.
During the first few scenes I was actually preparing for disappointment from some of the performances. In honesty, I was worried that some of the actors were going to be too weak to fill the shoes of previous productions that I’d seen. Rosalind didn’t immediately appear to have the adequate substance and inner-metal that the character requires, and felt a bit too much of a girl and almost insubstantial. Likewise, I didn’t feel Touchstone was ultra-quick-witted enough, compared with previous performances I’d seen, and he didn’t immediately seem to have the fast intelligence of the character, and instead felt a little bit petulant. However, I’ve only expressed these feelings because after the first couple of scenes the actors seemed to have overcome whatever unease they felt at the start, and had really sunk into the roles, completely allaying my fears. In the later scenes, they felt perfect.
One last niggle- I was disheartened that Le Beau, played by David Hartley, wasn’t French. A lot of the jokes and other characters’ lines depend on Le Beau being outrageously and humorously French, and the lack of a French accent meant that those jokes didn’t work, and were lost, which is a shame.
Orlando, played adorably by David Ricardo-Pearce, was a really refreshing revelation. He was quietly heroic, with a gentleness and softness, not aggressively masculine, which made for a really endearing portrayal of the character.
As Rosalind, played fantastically by Natalie Grady, transformed into Ganymede, she took on all of the gumption and substance that makes this female character an equal for the men. She had joyfully adolescent lasciviousness and lusty growls when away from the men, which ascended to a beautiful dexterity when manipulating Orlando, so that you felt she was a real match for him.
There were moments of pure, stomach-tickling comedy, of the kind that Shakespeare would have created in his day, and which are often lost nowadays on an audience that doesn’t really speak the language they’re listening to. One of these moments was created by Silvius, played by David Hartley. His anguished screams of; ‘Phoebe’ from outside the theatre, perfectly timed, and hilarious, made sense of the references to him by Corin and Rosalind, which have been lost in other performances I’ve seen.
The next remarkable entrance was by Jaques, played by Nicholas Asbury as a kind of drunken Rik Mayall figure with a Young Ones voice, who made his first appearance taking gulps of the drinks of the front row of the audience. His scene with the musicians, Rob Compton playing guitar, was absolutely uplifting, and their interaction was funny and heart-warming with pure joy.
Asbury’s interpretation of the famous ‘All the World’s a stage’ speech, perhaps one of Shakespeare’s best known, was delivered in a drunken and irreverent way, which made it lighter to experience, and refreshing, and not what one expects. However, he never lacked the weight and poignant intensity that that speech requires, but managed to be funny with it, although it could have had a little more depth of volume (perhaps ‘Boom’ is the right term). Nicholas Asbury is cockle-warming and effervesces with comedy, to the point where it becomes exciting to watch.
In these later scenes Touchstone, played by Paul-Ryan Carberry, really revels in the role, and comes into his own. If he started out a little weakly, in his later scenes, especially the verbal dual with Corin, he gave the character all the flourish and intelligence, and deep intensity of wit, that he so needs. Touchstone has a particular kind of personality, and Carberry captures it perfectly.
The other entrance that produced, actually, one of the most exciting experiences I’ve ever had in a theatre, was by Phebe. I’ve played this character, and anticipated the portrayal in this production with baited breath, anxious that it should be done right. Phebe, played magnificently by Rosie Jones, entered the space running flat-out, with utter determination and a blazing conviction in her eyes which was so beautifully hilarious. If the expression ‘eyes ablaze’ should ever be used, it’s now. Rosie Jones, with that spunky northern fire perfected by Maxine Peake in her formidable female roles, played Phebe like one of the Furies. The speech where she’s describing Ganymede to Silvius, juxtaposing positives with negatives, grew and grew into a schizophrenic dichotomy, and she went from being torn between like and dislike, to a real mental tearing-apart, a meltdown. The performance was given so much energy, aggression, and passion, that the audience applauded, though with reluctant uncertainty because of overlapping the next character’s entrance, and the actors had to take a pause because the audience felt so compelled to give Rosie Jones commendation in applause.
The whole experience was just beautiful, from the perfectly English complexions of the women on stage, to the perfect pitching of the humour and music. It was enthralling, uplifting, dazzling to the eye, and absolutely warming to the heart. I can’t recommend it enough, as a complete experience.
One of the best things about Risotto is that you can experiment. Almost anything makes a good risotto, and part of the fun is trying new things. In an attempt to try something different, I carried out one such experiment for tea tonight. I made Sausage and Mushroom Risotto, using Quorn sausages, but you could use meat ones, and it was delicious. Because of the density of the sausages, which were cut into pieces, and the rice, it was extremely filling, and satisfying, but actually very healthy, with very little fat or calories. It’s very pleasing to eat something which makes you feel full and sated, but which also gives you the piece of mind of knowing that you won’t pile on the pounds.
INGREDIENTS: (Serves Two)
METHOD:
The only way to be sure it’s done is to keep trying it. Taste a bit of rice, and keep simmering until it’s soft.
Then, put it out, and enjoy.
My Mum, enjoying the Risotto.
If you do try this, please let me know how you get on. Also, if you have any suggestions, I’d be glad to hear them.
Happy Cooking, and HAPPY EATING!
When the weather is beautiful, all I want to do is put on a dress and listen to music.
Summer Playlist:
1. Two Door Cinema Club, Tourist History (Record)
2. The Twang, Two Lovers (Track) 
3. The Best of Fleetwood Mac (Record)
4. Dirty Pretty Things, B.U.R.M.A (Track)
5. The Very Best of The Velvet Underground (Record)
6. The Libertines, Boys in the Band (Track)
7. Blondie
Sunday Girl (Track)
Rapture (Track)
8. Bombay Bicycle Club, Flaws (Album)
9. The Emotions, Best of My Love (track)
10. Kasabian, Secret Alphabets (Track)
11. The Rolling Stones (Because it wouldn’t be summer without the Rolling Stones), Beast of Burden (Track).
12. Al Green
1. Tired of Being Alone (Track)
2. How Can You Mend a Broken Heart (Track)
The music you listen to in the summertime has to have a special quality. It has to be light, and fresh, but deeply funky and soulful. It’s the kind of music, as some of the tracks above have been for me, the kind of music that comes onto your i-pod when you have it on shuffle, lying on the sand of a beach, and it just feels perfect. It’s about the music you’re listening to fitting the light around you perfectly; that golden-green light. Summer music, more than any other, has to be music you love.
I had to restrain myself, because I didn’t want to stop compiling this list. This is only a tiny selection of the music I’ll be listening to this summer. Feel free to add to it.
This Bangers, Mash and Mushrooms is one of the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted, and so simple and quick. In less than thirty minutes you can have an indulgent, comforting, but quite healthy feast on your plate. I’ve included a few notes on how the recipe can easily be adapted to become vegan. Equally, while I’ve used vegetarian sausages, you could use meat ones, whatever you like. I make this all the time because it’s just a thing of beauty (though perhaps more in taste than to look at).
Ingredients:
STEP ONE
The sausages. I’ve used Quorn this time, but I usually prefer Cauldron. The vegetarian Lincolnshire, or Cumberland, are really delicious and full of so much flavour, quite spicy in fact. This is the first time I’ve used these particular ones, which are the new and improved Quorn recipe, and I have to say that they are really tasty. I’m sure normal meat sausages will work much the same.
I used the sausages straight from the freezer, but defrosted them slightly. This allows you to slice them neatly. If they are completely thawed out then they break up and crumble, and you end up with a mess.
Slice the sausages into hefty chunks.
Into a hot pan stir; Olive Oil (or whatever oil you have, all vegetable oils work the same. You could even use butter), garlic purée (garlic salt works just the same), Mustard, salt and pepper.
Once all those things are mixed together, throw the sausages in. Stir them into the mixture and make sure they’re coated, so they get all the flavour.
It doesn't look pretty, but the smell is heavenly, and it tastes GOOD!
Once the mixture has soaked into the sausages (you have to keep stirring), they will begin to cook. While this is happening, peel the mushrooms and cut them in half.
Once the sausages are starting to brown all over, throw the mushrooms in. Give it a good stir, and get everything mixed in together. Allow them to simmer, with the lid on, but stirring every couple of minutes, for about ten minutes, until everything looks brown and cooked.
STEP TWO
Which is basically just the potatoes. Once the sausages and mushrooms are browned, you need to stir in the mashed potato. Either have the potatoes ready and mashed at the beginning of the recipe, OR, if you’re short of time and would like an easy option, I’ve found one. I recently discovered microwavable mash. Now, it’s not as healthy as the real thing, but it’s pretty good. I’m not usually in favour of this kind of thing, I hate it, but it doesn’t taste like Smash, it tastes like delicious, fluffy mash, that you’d make yourself. I promise you, it tastes really good. Just follow the instructions on the packet.
Throw the potatoes into the pan, and give everything a really good stir. You want to get all the flavours mixed in.
You’re now basically just waiting for the mash to be hot. Keep stirring it all together until it’s piping hot, then crumble as much cheese in as you’d like. In my opinion, the more the better. I used cheddar, because I like the flavour and it melts, but use whatever you’d like.
STEP THREE
Serve!
Once the cheese has melted, get a plate and serve it. Eat it while it’s hot!
That’s it! What could be easier? I promise you, it is DELICIOUS! Mushrooms, cheese, potatoes, sausages full of flavour, what’s not to like?
I hope you give this a go, and I’d really love to know how you get on, so let me know.
I’ll leave you with my lovely Mum, who enjoyed it immensely, and told everyone in the pub about it.
It started about three weeks ago, thanks to Pizza Hut and their ‘Free Unlimited Salad Bar’ with any main meal. I tried the breadsticks they have on the salad bar and they are beyond delicious, I don’t know what’s in them, but they are. One thing lead to another, and I found myself in the nibbles aisle of Morrissons, buying breadsticks. It occurred to me, while sitting in Pizza Hut, eating half a Stuffed Crust pizza to myself, that they could be a valuable slimming aid.
On those occasions when food is too long a time away, and your whole body is pulling you towards the cupboard where the crisps and chocolate biscuits are, I now get a breadstick instead. They average around 19 or 2o calories per stick, depending on the brand, and 0.something (a trace) grams of fat. Basically, they’re quite healthy, but fill you up nicely. Think of how many breadsticks you could eat, and still be having less fat and calories than a packet of crisps. It’s a lot. Also, they’re delicious, and don’t taste of fat like crisps.
So far I’ve tried two brands; Morrissons healthy eating ones, and Morrissons Italian range. The first, being packaged as low fat and low calorie but actually containing exactly the same as the others, weren’t as nice. They didn’t have much flavour, and tasted (ironically) slightly of oil. The Italian breadsticks are lovely, and very satisfying. I’m going to try as many as possible, and will keep you posted.
By the way, they go lovely with a cup of tea.
In St Mark's Square, Venice, wearing an outfit that I didn't even like back then, let alone now.
Things that I regret:
Glee's American Dream
Even in rehearsals, doing what makes me what makes me most happy, I never allowed myself to feel like a real actor, never enjoyed the moment.
This was one of the first nights when I hadn't planned or expected it to be special, I'd just gone out to a local amateur dramatic awards evening, not expecting anything, and it turned into one of the most special nights of my life. Even though I hadn't thought much about my outfit, it felt right, and I felt confident in myself. As I walked casually onto the stage and was presented with the trophy and handed a bottle of champagne, I was grinning. It was a truly special moment, that I hadn't seen coming.
This was the night of my twenty-first birthday. It was one of the first occasions when I'd spent time thinking about my outfit, and really made an effort. Somehow, I managed to feel radiant.
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