Blues/Rock

The task of arranging rock concerts through Arts Festival week must have been a difficult one, what with the number of personnel and the amount of equipment involved. For a lot of people, however, the blues and rock music was the highlight of the Festival, and controller John Hannan must take credit for a generally well organsed presentation.

If the music was for the most part of a high standard, it was also generally a mite samey; most of the groups were big and loud, playing heavy rock ad nauseum, while some built their whole report one around a succession of Cream-inspired bass riffs. Wellington trio Tricycle and Dunedin outfit Anthras came into the category—their music without the redeeming quality of good vocalising. Nonetheless, some excellent groups performed—notable Dunedin group Pussyfoot who roared through a succession of rock'n'roll standards, Highway, a local four piece who moved from soft rock to heavy blues with amazing ease, and Vic group Gutbucket who avoided established blues patterns and concentrated on a style of brassy rythm'n'blues that promises a lot. Local rave Mammal failed to impress, but at least looked as though they were enjoying whatever they were doing. Capel Hopkins and Mad Dog had their moments, the latter providing the best take-off of the week with their sober "Blue Moon of Alabhamy" Throughout, however, audiences were generally unreceptive, possible because this music for the paranoic 20th Century city man was too heavy to penetrate to anybody's musical sensibilities. The light shows didn't help—a good attemps, but hardly enough to provoke a simultaneous blossoming of the senses, especially when groups were plunged into total darkness on stage.

Lectures and workshops were as a rule informative and well presented, with Midge Marsden in his element illustrating the differences between Chicago and Texas style blues. Announcing and compering throughout was inadequate, and why it was all laid on the shoulders of one man was beyond me. Nevertheless, the organisers and the artists themselves worked hard providing entertainment, and what faults did show through were generally taken in the spirit of the Festival.

Drama

Lincoln College—'If there wer'nt any blacks, we would have to invent them', by Jonny Speight

For those who may have watched the television series 'Till death do us part' many of the characters in Lincoln's production of 'If there wer'nt nay blacks, we would have to invent them' will be familiar even if the setting is somewhat different; the biting satire which is so much a part of the bigoted character of Alf Garnett has been transposed into this play (by the same author) in the form of the (symbolically) Blind Man, whilst the character of Alf's acquiescent wife, who will do anything for a quiet life, can be readily discerned in the character of the Backwards Man.

Before turning to a criticism of the Lincoln production, one feels it is necessary to point out that the Lincoln Drama Club has only this year been resurrected after some years of quiescence, consequently many of the flaws which were evident in the acting could be put down to stage inexperience of many of the cast.

On the whole the performance was somewhat disjointed; the pace of what is essentially a fast moving play was, in places, slowed down considerably by the slow picking up of cues and the forced delivery of lines, largely on the part of the minor characters.

However, there were elements in the production which has a potentially devastating impact, referring specifically to that trio of actors Phillip Holder, Ian Cocks and Malcolm Moriss (as the Blind Man, the Backwards Man and the effeminate Young Man respectively) who, with such delicate awareness of mood, built up a powerful atmosphere pervaded by bigotry, fear and blind hatred from a somewhat uninspiring beginning.

As for the set, one must make the observation that this production overcame a problem which many of the other productions in the Festival found rather awkward, and that was the transferring of the mise-en-scene from one theatre to another without destroying it's original visual conception—the odd few grave crosses and the single park bench allowed for the maximum of flexibility in this aspect of the production.

Otago University Production of Edward Bond's 'Early Morning'

Edward Bond's 'Early Morning' has been described variously as a child's view of the world, a Freudian analysis of social and political relationships, and a surrealist view of life.

Life, in Bond's strange world, is brutal and meaningless. "Live", we are told, "is an anagram of evil," and Bond's characters are preoccupied with their search for death. Even Heaven offers no relief; instead the characters are forced to live out a grotesque existence where no pain can be felt, where canabalism is the norm and where the flesh of the victim grows again.

Personally, I think Bond is attempting to portray real life social and sexual relationships by his usual device of gross overstatement (as he did in 'Saved'). The implicit is stated in explicit terms: thus the comsumption of a man's soul/individuality by his fellow man becomes overt canabalism; Queen Victoria becomes an aggressive lesbian; the internal conflict in the central character Arthur (though not, I think, schizophrenia) is physically manifested in his Siamese twin George, who has his own, conlicting interests and tendencies.

'Early Morning' presents certain conceptual problems of production. As in all comedies of menace there is the all-important question of emphasis: it is possible to stress the black comedy (and 'Early Morning' certainly provides ample scope for this) but this can sometimes be to the detriment of the play's ideas. Joe Orton's success with 'Loot' and his failure with 'What the Butler Saw' illustrates how important this balance is. It was therefore gratifying to see that Rodney Kennedy's production always subordinated the very genuine (but sick) humour to the playwright's view of human relationships.

Yet the production itself was abysmally slow; the many scene changes were conducted without as much as a music break and no play can withstand twenty or so thirty-second interruptions. Simple though the set was, the designer's failure to provide a completely multi-purpose set spelled disaster for the play's continuity.

The acting was reasonable throughout if somewhat heavy-handed at times. The three leads—Peggy Jowett as Queen Victoria, Alison Chisholm as Florence Nightingale and Richard Mercier as Arthur contributed well towards the success of the play. The others tended to be a bit static in their vocal attack and page 5 movement and when accents were resorted to, they proved to be only a source of embarrassment to cast and audience alike.

Yet Otago University must be congratulated for attempting such an immensely difficult and important play. The apparently insurmountable technical difficulties were handled surprisingly well. The fact that they succeeded in provoking a good deal of interest amongst drama enthusiasts at Arts Festival was undoubtedly a measure of their success.

Folk

Folk music's contribution to Arts Festival 1970 consisted of lectures and a guitar workshop as well as two Come-ye-all concerts preceding a Grand Final concert at the town hall.

The title "N.Z. Traditional" would probably have been somewhat prsumptious to Frank Fyfe's mind. His lecture on the subject proved a realistical appraisal of New Zealand's tenuous folk heritage. This particular field insufficiently emphasised in a country where 'folk music' proficiency is too often measured on how well overseas artists are imitated. The other lecture was a specialized one in the contemporary field by Robbie Laven dealing with the influence of Eastern music on contemporary folk. It was surprisingly interesting to the initiated listener—straight forward with a refreshing lack of dogmatic assertions. The least instructive attraction was a guitar workshop by Pitt Ramsay. This was, not unexpectedly of little practical use to budding virtuosos. The reward for watching was a glimpse of the Ramsay genius.

The most notable feature of the Come-ye-all concerts was the high standard over all. A national festival allows performers with local reputations the chance to establish wider recognition and many did so. The Monday night concert in particular was very good and although long, it was never tedious and concluded in just the right manner (leaving you wanting just a little more) with Hamilton County who were enthusiastically received.

The final concert performers were roughly divided by the two halves of the concert into those who had emerged during the week, and the specially invited guests. The performances were balanced, varied and consistently good.

The Mad Dog was considerably tighter and less frenetic than usual and included a straightforward version of "Mac the Knife" complete with steel guitar in their performance. The Windy City Strugglers, however, managed to retain the ethnic decorum.

A highlight for the reviewer at least was a beautifully controlled version of Leonard Cohen's "Sisters of Mercy" by a Christchurch singer named Frank Wood assisted by some friends on melodica, cello and guitar. A feature of the concert was the number of quality female singers. Another resident of Christchurch, Rose Shiells, sang blues based material with a distinctive low voice and included a Joplin number. Marion Arts from Waikato sang contemporary and Marilyn Bennett performed traditional material with one song backed by sitar and tabla which was an interesting experiment though not completely successful. For variety John Caldwell did a couple of flamenco numbers.

The evening (and week's folk) was concluded with possible symbolic irony by Tamburlaine whose contribution was straight pop.

1970 Arts Festival Yearbook

Edited by Arthur Bates.

Price 50 cents.

This yearbook was disappointing. The contributors were on the whole well known and few of the contributions were either extraordinarily good or bad.

The quote from Humbert "O my Lolita, I have only words to play with" is applicable not only to Murray Edmonds, but also to Dennis List and Norman Bilbrough. Their poems are disjointed and do not convey anything in their entirety.

Several of the poems are very simple yet effective. These were Brian Turner's "Mirror, mirror on the wall." and Brent Southgate's "Studies".

Many of the contributors are clever but little else because the connotations they hold for the author, do not convey the same thing to the majority of the readers. Russell Halley however has managed to avoid this in "Hoardings" and manages to convey the contemporary power figure.

"Commissioner Gerder in his heat sealed vinyl suit with disposable hands and removable feet never forgetting the disposable head."

The best poems in the yearbook are Jim Horgan's "Palendromes" in poetic form, and "Kingseat/My Song; 1969". Both these poets know the meaning of words and demonstrate it in their poems.

Of the prose lkey Robinson's "It Goes" conveys most, though it is more poetry than prose.

The standard of writing is fair, but little of it is very promising and little of it is distinctly New Zealand. Most of it could have been written by Americans.

Jazz

The growing influence of jazz on pop music evidenced by such groups as Blood Sweat & Tears, Chicago and The Flock should have created a great interest in jazz this year. Perhaps it did, but the sounds heard seldom effected the successful synthesis of jazz 3nd pop which some might have wished for. Conventional jazz there was, often exciting and evocative, sometimes dull and cliched, plus the usual competent mechanical trad, band romping and blaring through the old standards.

The Acme Sausage Company provided its usual indeterminate performance, often under various guises. The enormous speaker box of Harvey the Underdog blasted the ears of Tuesday night's audience, while Thursday's group was more conventional, with only one bass player at a time. Heavy pop riffs provided rhythms for some numbers—Atlantis was a very simple yet interesting affair—on Friday the Thirteenth soloists Girvan, Murphy and Charles really swung. Drummer Bruno was impeccable.

Other groups were more conventional—a university group headed by alto and trumpet worked its way through some pop standards—Mercy Mercy Mercy etc., with competence and they looked as if they were enjoying themselves.

The more professional acts of Kevin Clark and Marie Francis were in some ways the highlights of the Arts Festival jazz; their trios being the most unified groups—Bill Gilbert's bass playing with Marie Francis on Milestones was the best heard, and Kevin Clark's Nodal Modal etc. was it.

It was a pity that the workshops were unsuccessful, for most of the groups could have done with more practice, which would have introduced a polish, and a lot more interest. Some arranging is not a bad thing—Asosco's Eight and a Half for the Bass Player was one of their most interestingly executed numbers because they had loosely arranged it beforehand.