Within three days of their affiliation the Contemporary Arts Group held a "Shoestring Concert" in the Memorial Theatre. Over two hundred were present. It was unfortunate that there were the usual flaws of an amateur concert: lack of a competent M.C., poor continuity between items and a badly planned programme which didn't end until approximately 11.15. The quality of items ranged from the I sublime to the ridiculous.

Jazz Club members contributed two short sets at the beginning and end of the concert. Compared with some of the heavier items in a I rather pretentious evening the club was a breath of fresh air.

Murphy's forceful trumpet and Gervin's refined alto—showing a slightly more masculine vigour than in previous concerts—led a small but voluble group. Bassist Tommy Tamati and drummer Dave Lawrence although failing sometimes to provide the necessary rhythmic foundation, produced some irrepressible humour, and the high spot of the evening's jazz was probably the dialogue between the two. John Scully, beautifully deadpan, introduced in his best avant-garde manner a bit of Palm Court sax calculated to confirm the "highbrow" opinions of jazz. When the boys took themselves seriously they were less successful.

Peter Bland was obviously ill at ease in the unnatural context of a stage, but he seemed to relax more when he spoke several of his poems. The first few poems combined farce with force and were technically deceptively simple. The Love Song was an aesthetically sensual poem with delicacy in the imagery. He was clearly the outstanding genuine poet of the evening.

Alistair Campbell was disappointing. His Love Song of cows and daffodils and a country lane seemed a little Wordsworthian.

Tim Eliot gave a delightful rendering of the verse of the 19th century Scottish "poet" McGonigal. He declaimed this preposterous "inspired" verse in broad and ponderous Scots burr.

Peter Varley recited Lorca's Lament. I'm afraid the audience remained unmoved to the tragedy of Ignatio's death, as the reading was a little too stylized and pompous to convey any depth of emotion.