Anna May Wong Must Die! at the New Diorama Theatre

Anna Chen, Lucy Sheen, Veronica Needa, In the Mirror, New Diorama Theatre

Anna Chen, Lucy Sheen, Veronica Needa

ANNA MAY WONG MUST DIE!
Written and performed by Anna Chen
Live music accompaniment from Charles Shaar Murray and Marc Jefferies
New Diorama Theatre, NW1 3BF
Thursday 10th November 19:30
Saturday 12th November 20:30
£8.50/£6.50
(There will be a Q&A after the Saturday performance)
Presented by True Heart Theatre
Anna May Wong Must Die! at the New Diorama Theatre

At last, I’m performing two shows of my multi-media Anna May Wong Must Die! as a “work-in-progress” at the New Diorama Theatre as part of True Heart’s In The Mirror season. Also performing during the week: Lucy Sheen and Veronica Needa. (Details on the webpage.)

I’ll be on-script as it’s still early days in the life of this piece (so no press), but I hope to come out of the week with the play nailed. I look forward to to hearing some solid feedback, especially if you come to the Saturday Q&A session where the three of us plus True Heart artistic director Wing Hong Li will be chatting to the audience.

It’s unusual, possibly unique, to get three Chinese diaspora writers and performers together like this in one UK venue in one week so please do try to make it.

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Big Society: a conversation at the Foundling Museum

A little bit of politics, laydees an’ gennelmen with “Big Society: on a conversation at the Foundling Museum”.

Recorded at Café Art during the St Ives Arts Festival September 2011. Written in June 2011.

St Ives Festival 2011: Intro and Kicking A Dinosaur video
St Ives Festival 2011 pix: Artists & Tate Balloons
St Ives Festival 2011 pix: The Island and St Nicholas Chapel

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Lost ‘n’ found punk leather jacket brings joy to these trying times

Ring those bells, break out the cheap fizz, for I have been reunited with my original punk leather jacket which I thought I’d lost in various house-moves.

Clearing out the Vault Of Horror that is the hall cupboard, I finally mustered the courage to trawl through the crud and found a bag containing said item. It weighs a ton. Partially customised by Vivienne Westwood back in the days of Sex when kids could walk in and ask and receive individual styling tips from the Grande Dame of Punk Couture, she looped yards of heavy chain through the epaulettes and made me feel a million dollars, even though we were rejecting that sort of materialism back then. Or so I was told. I was young. I was wet behind the ears. My brain hadn’t fully growed.

Emboldened by watching the Master do her thing, I then went to town and finished the job.

Here’s a pic of Keith Moon wearing the early version before The Who’s gig at Celtic FC. (Note photographer Chalkie Davies in suburban knitwear.)

Keith Moon Anna Chen leather punk
Pix (c) Anna Chen

First outing for the punk jacket since being reunited with it here

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Looting and the UK Riots: as above, so below

Who could forget the big crisps heist of the summer of 2011? With Poundland in front of us and our comrades behind us, we held the world and special-offer broken biscuits in the palms of our hands, along with a bottle of Pantene medicated shampoo and a pack of genuine Cussons Imperial Leather soaps. Luxury! That was all we could carry for, in the spirit of solidarity, we had to share our booty fairly with the bredren and we were mindful of such things. I cast my eyes across the cornucopia of Stuff I could only dream of and wept that my pockets were already crammed with Haribo gelatine sweetmeats. So with a giant Toblerone or two clenched between my ample thighs, I hurried out into the night knowing I would eat this day and have shiny hair also.

We felt like kings.

Welcome to Thatcher’s children: the logical conclusion of the dictum that “there is no such thing as society”, that we are all as atomised as a handful of broken biscuits. Rampant consumerism, celebrity and bling. Knowing the price of everything (even if you can’t afford it) and the value of nothing. How cheaply these kids have been bought and then sold on to the lowest purveyors of crap.

I’d wondered idly before in this blog what it would take to knock Murdoch and the rest of The Sopranos who’ve been running this country off the front pages. It’s as if once the mask was ripped off the Dark Lord’s face (and replaced with a foam pie), a maelstrom of malevolent forces was unleashed: a right-wing nutter massacre in Norway, the bullet-train crash in China, the end of the US space age that had represented such hope, the deaths of two majorly talented women (RIP Amy and Fran), and now the UK riots.

There may not be a political objective in this insurrection, but the situation has its roots in politics. Triggered by the fatal police shooting of Mark Duggan last week, the anger fuelling the riots had been building for a long time.

In this topsy-turvey world, the unelected Tories, backed up by the LibDems (cursed be they unto the last Ramsay McClegg) forced the poor to recapitalise the bankers following their crisis and recession, while the rich remain untouched. Cuts to public services will see this country on its knees while directors and bankers pay themselves Croesus-sized wedge — the bankers in particular are now paying themselves more in bonuses than they are lending, despite benefiting from a public bail-out. Emboldened by the flabbiness of the Labour opposition, the government is even considering cutting the 50p rate of tax for the top one percent.

VAT is the most unfair tax going, and raising it to 20 per cent has halted the slow climb out of the doldrums that was underway. The poor pay the highest proportion of their income as tax and still the party of the rich keep on squeezing.

The media taunt us with images and tales of the super-rich as if they are a good thing. Bernie Ecclestone buys his daughter Regan — or is it Goneril? — a £56 million house in London while her property portfolio includes a £60 million mansion in L.A. The new aristocracy tell us in their demeaning X-Factorish product that you only create “art” in order to gain Stuff, fame and all the baubles that we’d once rejected as meaningless tat. No inner life, no self-respect, no introspection. Just feral impulses encouraged by a feral elite.

What did we think would happen? There have been voices telling us that we have to listen to the people who’ve been stripped of hope, with nothing to look forward to but a future of Victorian levels of poverty. How much did the EMA cost us? That measly £30 a week to encourage kids to continue their education, to grow inside, feel self-worth and make themselves employable. At £560 million per year for an entire generation, it was cheap in comparison with the estimated £100 million plus that the riots will have cost. And how do you put a price on the damage done to the national psyche? To race relations? To trust?

The outreach workers who were connecting with these kids now have no jobs thanks to the cuts. Libraries are closing. Wonderful solid old Victorian brick schools are being sold off as luxury flats while rubbish boxes are built to replace them. Oh, I’m sorry, even that’s not happening, thanks to Education Secretary Michael Gove.

People were burnt out of their homes and at least one man has died. The nation has welcomed martial law into our country.

The damage runs deep. The looted items stand for far more than just the acquisition of Stuff.

Two fictional references come to mind: Pottersville, the corrupt town which sprang up where there was once a community in It’s A Wonderful Life. And the episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer where our eponymous heroine has never been born. Beloved Characters are now vicious murdering vampires once denied Buffy’s positive influence — the finale where lovers and friends kill each other is one of the saddest moments I’ve seen in a TV show. You look at the kids rioting and it’s hard not to imagine each and every one of them as fully-developed, kind, intelligent, self-reflective individuals able to participate in society as productive human beings — if only they had been born in a different time-line.

Instead, we have mere shadows of people. Yes, criminal elements have to be punished. The young people who did this have to learn that there are consequences for destructive anti-social behaviour against their own bredren, innocent people. But so should the grand theft looters at the top who have set the agenda and the example. As above, so below.

Meanwhile, Murdoch and his friends carry on like it’s bidness as usual.

Musical commentary by The Bermondsey Joyriders with “Society Is Rapidly Changing”. Video by me.

Brilliant Photoshoplooter pix

Sympathy and condolences to the friends and family of the three who died last night in Birmingham.

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Thames Clipper trip through London

Here’s my video of a lovely trip through the centre of London the other week by Thames Clipper, under the shadow of the absurdly huge Shard-enfreude which looks like the Tyrrell Corporation in Blade Runner. It is so absurdly huge, dominating the London skyline like the Mayor’s ego (Boris Johnson AND Ken Livingstone), out of proportion with the surrounding buildings, that I fear for the hubris of all involved.

The video includes Tower Bridge, the Tower of London, City Hall, The Shard, Globe Theatre, Millennium Bridge, Tate Modern, St Paul’s Cathedral, National Theatre, Royal Festival Hall, London Eye, Big Ben and Hungerford Bridge.

Only a fiver with a travel or Oyster card.

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We may be some time …

Please bear with me as I move my steam-powered website from Dreamweaver to WordPress for the bells and whistles.

I’m trying to find my way around the new gaff and slowly pouring the updated content into this spanking new site. Hope you like it.

Meanwhile, here’s one I made earlier at Madam Miaow Says.

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