Archive for category Music

Assist

RW-Twitter-Cover-photo-2To celebrate Glastonbury weekend, check out the Orchestra of Syrian Musicians, with Damon Albarn.  “When there is violence in the world, you have to make more beautiful music, and make it more intensely.” Music in exile becomes a kind of homecoming.

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We don’t know what impact there will be from Britain’s withdrawal from the EU on refugees and asylum seekers.  We can be certain, however, that people will continue to flee war and persecution, and that those who get here, by whatever routes, will continue to face bureaucracy, prejudice, detention and destitution.  So the work of charities who dedicate themselves to campaigning and fundraising and organising to support them will continue to be vital.

assist

Assist Sheffield is one of those organisations.

ASSIST Sheffield is currently the only Sheffield charity focused on destitution among asylum seekers.

Our aims

  • To provide accommodation, food and support for asylum seekers in Sheffield who are in conditions of need, hardship or distress
  • To advance the education of the public, and other statutory and voluntary organisations, in order to assist the inclusion of asylum seekers into the wider community
  • To raise awareness about the plight of asylum seekers in our city

Who we help

We help asylum seekers whose initial claims have been rejected, and who are therefore destitute.

We only give support to people who can demonstrate their situation.

Unfortunately, we cannot support everyone who needs help. We prioritise those who don’t have any other means of support from friends or family, those who do not have somewhere safe to sleep or regular access to food and those who are particularly vulnerable, for example because they are unwell, elderly or pregnant.

If you can, support this work by donating or volunteering.

 

sheffield welcomes refugees

 

 

cropped-cropped-Poster-2Migration Matters Festival

Saturday 25th June

Rudio, by Lucy Haighton
12pm-2pm

A ‘meet and greet’ movement based workshop.

NB: This workshop will take place in the Adelphi Room at The Crucible Theatre (55 Norfolk Street)

The Art of Migration Showcase, featuring Bashar Farhat (poet), Mina Salama + Special Guest
12pm-2pm

Performances from a vibrant mix of talented regional artists with migration and refugee backgrounds. Commissioned by Arts on the Run.

Puppetry Worskhop, by Vertebra Theatre
2pm-4pm

Exploring immigration through puppetry!

Silk Road, by Incomplete Collaboration
4pm-5pm

Migration explored through poetry, sound and art.

Eastern Europeans for Dummies, by There There
6pm-7pm

Brutal beginners guide to Eastern Europeans.

Tanja, by Strawberry Blonde Curls
7.30pm

Locked up. Shipped around. Sold as sex.

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Desert Island tunes

Finally, I get to do my Desert Island discs.  Kirsty Young appears to have lost my contact details, but no matter, because this year the 24 Hour Inspire featured a pop-up radio station, and I was asked to choose 6 tracks, a book and a luxury, and to talk about them with interviewer Chella Quint.

But how to pick just 6 tracks?  It would not, realistically, have been easier if it was the BBC 8.  Or even 12, or 20… Not when music has been such a huge part of life, not when it matters so much.

Listening, as I often do, to contributors to Desert Island Discs, I can see a range of different approaches to the task of selection.  Some take the biographical approach – linking the tracks explicitly to key points in the life story they are describing.  This is interesting, and enriching to the biography, but it may mean that the music doesn’t stand up in its own right, and has purely nostalgic value.  Some just pick 8 tracks they kind of like – but you can tell in this case that music is not a passion, not an obsession but a pleasant accompaniment to other things.  They have not agonised about those choices, they haven’t felt as though they have personally betrayed the artists who don’t feature in the final cut.  That’s fine, but I can’t be like that.

When music really, really matters, the problem is not finding 6 or 8 or however many tracks, it’s finding a rationale for selecting for this particular purpose, on this particular date and time.  That’s how I come to terms with it – on another day, in another context, I could and likely would have an entirely different set of tracks.  So, what was my approach this time?

First off, I wanted to be able to say something about each track.  Not just, this is brilliant, I love this, listen to this bit (although in a normal music-listening context there is a lot of that).  But something about why it matters to me, how I encountered it, what it does to me.  Secondly, the context.  It’s the 24 Hour Inspire, so the music I pick has to be something that moves me, challenges me, disrupts me, inspires me.

Even outside this particular context, I can’t be doing with music that is merely pleasant.  It has to move me – that can mean intellectual stimulation (a Bach fugue, for instance, or much of European postwar ‘classical’ music), emotional impact (much sacred music, even though I’m a humanist, and a host of songs that for some reason – lyrics, context, something in the tune, something in the vocals – make me well up or want to punch the air), physical effect (heavy grungy sounds, infectious dancey sounds, music that makes me move my feet, my hips).  These are not mutually exclusive categories, of course, as my choices will demonstrate.

TRACK 1: SONGHOY BLUES – SOUBOUR

There had to be music from Mali.  Because that’s where so much of the music I love was born – think Muddy Waters, think Hendrix – before it was transported across the oceans on the slave ships, asserted its power as it blended with the folk music and hymn tunes it encountered in the Americas and then made its way back home again.

soubour

Songhoy Blues grew up listening to the rich Malian tradition, and griots such as Ali Farka Toure – and to Muddy Waters and Hendrix.  You can hear all of this in their music.  I’ve written previously about some of the reasons why I feel such a strong emotional connection with West African music, and about the other powerful dynamic in contemporary Malian music – the resistance to the murderous jihadist bigots who invaded the north of the country, and banned football and music, inflicting brutal punishments on those who failed to comply.  Songhoy Blues’ sound is joyous, a powerful riposte to the bigots, a reminder that the ‘grey zone’ as they call it is full of colour, full of melody, harmony, rhythm, full of beauty and warmth.

And this year of all years, there had to be Bowie.

TRACK 2: DAVID BOWIE – SUFFRAGETTE CITY

suffragette city

This one goes back to my first encounter with the Star Man, which I wrote about on the day his death was announced.  It’s not necessarily my favourite ever track but it’s deeply significant as the start of a relationship that has continued throughout my teenage and adult life, and will continue, despite his death, because all of that music is still there to enjoy and explore.

Crimson were part of my teenage years too.

TRACK 3: KING CRIMSON – RED

red

I’ve always said that Red was my favourite album from the 70s manifestation of the band, and often said that ‘Starless’ was my favourite track on that album.  But for desert island purposes, Starless would be so wrong.  It could actually feature in a ‘songs that must never be played during a lonesome, marooned and possibly hopeless sojourn on a desert island’ list.  Instead I picked the title track, a grungy heavy instrumental that I always loved, that I remember listening to, drinking cheap cider, sitting on the floor at my boyfriend’s house, and rocking out.

Kirsty MacColl would have to be with me on the island.

TRACK 4: KIRSTY MACCOLL – FREE WORLD

kirsty freeworld

I imagine she’d have been great company in person – certainly the musicians she collaborated with talk about her with enormous affection and warmth, but also respect.  She certainly deferred to no one – Johnny Marr tells a lovely story of her taking Keith Richards to task for getting something wrong on the guitar, and Keith accepting it meekly…  Kirsty’s songs can be funny, poignant, sharp (sometimes all three), her voice is gorgeous, and she’s one of a number of women in rock/pop music who have managed to make their own rules, to do things their way, against the odds.    This song makes me want to punch the air and change the world.

Another voice of rare beauty – actually one of the loveliest voices ever, anywhere:

TRACK 5: SAM COOKE – A CHANGE IS GONNA COME

sam cooke

This song is heavy with the hope and the hopelessness of the early sixties civil rights movement – people holding on to the possibility of change whilst being confronted daily with implacable  hostility to change.  I think of that – but I also think of the fact that an African-American currently sits in the White House, and for all the injustice and inequality that remains, for all the entrenched prejudice, things can and do change.  I would never have believed, twenty years ago, for example, that gay marriage would be legal in so many parts of the world.  And for all that there are still so many places where to be gay is to be outside the law and in danger of violence, it happened without that much fuss here, and in other countries, in the end.  Even outside the social justice activist world, most people seemed to say, tacitly or otherwise, good on them.  I have to remember and have faith that every time things seem hopeless, that a change IS gonna come.

And finally to the least well-known track of my six.

TRACK 6: FLOBOTS – WE ARE WINNING

The Flobots are hard to pin down – the highly political lyrics, spoken and sung, are backed not just with guitars and drums but with viola, cello and trumpet and the effect is intense and powerful.  This track is marvellously idealistic, optimistic, hopeful.  We are Winning.  It doesn’t always (often) feel like it, but it’s something to hold on to, something to keep you keeping on.  It speaks to my belief that what we do matters, precisely because this world is all there is.  As Joss Whedon put it, in Angel:  “If there’s no great glorious end to all this, if nothing we do matters then all that matters is what we do. Cause that’s all there is. What we do. Now. Today.” And there’s a particular pertinence in these lines in the context of an event that celebrates learning, teaching and research:  There is a war going on for your mind.  If you are thinking, you are winning.

We are building up a new world.
Do not sit idly by.
Do not remain neutral.
Do not rely on this broadcast alone.
We are only as strong as our signal.
There is a war going on for your mind.
If you are thinking, you are winning.
Resistance is victory.
Defeat is impossible.
Your weapons are already in hand.
Reach within you and find the means by which to gain your freedom.
Fight with tools.
Your fate, and that of everyone you know
Depends on it.

(Flobots, 2008)

Selecting my six tracks might have been tricky, painful even.  I feel I owe a personal apology to so many artists I love but have left out, and if I were to do this again (I ‘m more than willing, guys) I could easily come up with another six, and another, and another…

But these felt good.  The 24 Hour Inspire is all about inspiration (obviously), and I feel inspired when I hear these songs.  I feel energised, and optimistic, and I want to dance, and to punch the air and change the world.  I hope at least some of the songs will affect at least some of you in similar ways.  I’ll add the recording of the interview when it’s available. Meantime, enjoy!

 

 

 

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At the Dark of the Moon – a poem by Katherine Inskip

Amongst the many Bowie tributes which have appeared on my Facebook wall and Twitter feed (indeed, there has been little else today), there was this poem, by a friend and former colleague.  I know Katherine Inskip as an astronomer and University teacher – I had no idea she was a poet.  And this, written as an immediate response to the loss that we’ve all been feeling, is just so right.   Thanks Katherine.

 

He died at the dark of the moon
and I cannot help but wonder
if he knew, or if the change,
this once, was not his own.

For he lived as the moon does,
strange and bright, inconstant
as time itself, casting fluid
shadows into space.
And if we felt some echo
in his forms, his songs, his life,
the moon would not do less.

He died at the dark of the moon
at the moment when all things change.
And he died as the moon does,
with its face turned out, away.
Gone from our sight forever.
Gone, for a while.
Gone, but no less bright.

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Bowie: We can be heroes, just for one day

Fascinating Bowie tribute focusing on Bowie in Berlin, from That’s How the Light Gets In.

That's How The Light Gets In

Ch-ch-changes
Just gonna have to be a different man…

In Berlin: Imagine a City, Rory MacLean writes of how, in 1976, ‘rock ‘n’ roll’s blazing star fell to earth in Berlin. Bowie arrived in the city a haunted, haggard wreck: barely six stones, sleepless and wired on cocaine, possessing little sense of his own self-worth. ‘I really did have doubts about my sanity’, Bowie wrote later. But, according to MacLean, Bowie found himself in Berlin (and he might know since, fresh out of film school, he was a young assistant to the director on the film shot in the city at the time, Just a Gigolo).

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Loving the alien

Three moments from the early 1970s.

Suffragette City

ziggy

1972,  the Cellar Bar at the Hutt, Ravenshead, Notts.  The Hutt was a Berni Inn, purveyor of prawn cocktail, steak & chips, and Black Forest gateaux – but the Cellar Bar was a dark and crowded space where a 14 year old could get served with Babycham or Bacardi & lime, and where the juke box was turned up LOUD.   I didn’t even know this was Bowie, I just knew it was exhilarating, intoxicating.  And dangerous.

Star Man

starman

Seeing that clip now from Top of the Pops, it’s hard – impossible even – to make sense of how shocking, how ridiculously daring and provocative it seemed at the time when he draped his arm so casually around Mick Ronson’s shoulders and they sang together, close.  There was no other topic of conversation the next morning at school in Mansfield. But for some of those boys and girls who knew they could never conform to the gender roles assigned to them, who knew they were different, and were scared and thought they might be the only ones who felt that way, it was a moment that changed their worlds, it gave them hope and courage.

Time

aladdin saneListening to Aladdin Sane on the record player in our living room, staying within arms reach of the volume control so that we could ramp it down speedily if the parents came within earshot at the point when the lyrics got seriously inappropriate.

 

Bowie was the unifying factor in the otherwise rigid musical demarcations of the time.  I loved Motown, Simon & Garfunkel, and Bowie.  My friends loved Alice Cooper, Deep Purple, and Bowie.  My brother loved Gong, Hatfield & the North, and Bowie.  And as for the boy who is now my husband of 38 years, who introduced me to Hendrix and Crimson, amongst others (and who I introduced to Motown and reggae) – Bowie was our musical meeting place.  The fact that he could play some of the songs – well, reader, I married him…

It is those memories that are the most powerful, from those teenage years when everything was so intense, when we were trying to work out who we were and who we wanted to be. Bowie was part of that – he made us question, made us imagine possibilities, showed us we could reinvent ourselves if we wished.

That continued through the decades since – we backtracked from Ziggy to Hunky Dory and Man Who Sold the World, and even to the early singles when he was Davie Jones, with the King Bees, The Lower Third, and various other short-lived bands. No amount of nostalgia or grief will make me remember The Laughing Gnome with fondness, or some of the other early tracks. But even then, there was the sense of someone who would try anything, experiment fearlessly, take risks.  And the variety was dizzying, from the heavy rock of Width of a Circle, to the delicate An Occasional Dream or the whimsy of Kooks.

We awaited each new album with a mixture of excitement and trepidation – would he let us down?  would this one disappoint?  No, and no.  And how extraordinary that on Saturday night, just a day and a half ago, we prepared ourselves to listen to the new Bowie album, by playing the Ziggy Stardust farewell gig and Philip Glass’s Low Symphony.  And he didn’t let us down.  This one did not disappoint.  I tweeted that night:

No other artist that I’ve been listening to for > 40 yrs is still doing new stuff today, still sounding so fresh.

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And then this morning I woke to the news that he is gone.

So tonight, we will play songs from across all of the years in which Bowie has been part of our lives.  We will raise a glass to the Starman, and probably get a little drunk and sing along, and cry a bit.  He may be gone but we have so much music, enough to sustain us, enough to inspire us.

Don’t let me hear you say life’s
taking you nowhere,
angel

Come get up my baby
Look at that sky, life’s begun
Nights are warm and the days are young

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2015 – the best bits

This was the year we threw off the shackles of paid employment.  Martyn first, in March, and me at the very close of 2015.  It feels terrifying and liberating all at once.

For me, this new freedom will give me more time to do the things I care most about.  My PhD, which I hope I will now be able to do justice to.  And Inspiration for Life, in particular the 24 Hour Inspire.  Of all the things I’ve done over the years, this is what I’m proudest of.

And I hope of course to have more time to do the other things I love, more time to read, write, listen to music, go to gigs, go to the cinema/theatre, meet up with friends, travel, watch some of the box sets which are gathering dust by our DVD player…

Below are some of the cultural highlights of 2015.  I’ve been lucky to have access to Ensemble 360, Opera North, Tramlines, Sheffield Jazz etc, and to have wonderful friends and family to share these experiences with.

Film

The best of the year, without a doubt, was Timbuktu. Abderrahmane Sissako’s film is both beautiful and harrowing, a passionate cry from the heart about the threat posed by fundamentalist jihadists to the people, the culture and the music of Mali.

timbuktu

I won’t rank my other favourites, but they are:

Inside OutPixar at its very, very best. Clever, imaginative, daring, funny and moving. As the Guardian review said, ‘In the film’s wildest moment, the wanderers enter a zone of abstract thought, where they are zapped into a series of increasingly simplified geometric shapes, as they – and the film itself – dizzyingly self-deconstruct (“Oh no, we’re non-figurative!”)’.

inside outriley

A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night – Ana Lily Amirpour’s film has been tagged as ‘the first Iranian vampire Western’. Atmospheric and full of unexpected touches (including a skateboarding vampire), and a powerful feminist narrative. Sheila Vand has a fascinating face that can look very young and somehow ageless at different moments.

Love and Mercy – biopic of Brian Wilson, portrayed both in the Beach Boy years and in later life, by Paul Dano and John Cusack respectively. Cusack’s portrayal is fascinating – seeing the clip of the real Brian Wilson at the end of the movie, I realised just how perfectly he had captured him, despite the lack of obvious physical resemblance.

love and mercycusack

I Believe in Miracles – the story of Nottingham Forest’s astonishing European Cup success. A joy from beginning to end. And featuring a couple of brief glimpses of my kid brother who was a ball boy at one of those games, as well as glorious clips of my all-time footballing hero John Robertson at his best. And funny and poignant anecdotes from the players, and clips of Clough running rings around interviewers.

miraclesrobbo

Mad Max: Fury Road – just a blast, possibly the best action movie I’ve seen, with a powerful female lead in Charlize Theron’s Furiosa (an action movie that passes the Bechdel test!), visually almost overwhelming and with an awesome soundtrack. And the Doof Warrior.

mad maxdoof warrior

Avengers: Age of Ultron. I’ve written previously about how much I love the Marvel films. This was a joy, thanks in large part to Joss Whedon’s crackling dialogue (the script is often where costs are cut in big budget movies, but thankfully not here).

TV

Lots of Marvel here too, with Agent Carter, Daredevil and Agents of Shield all delivering in spades. Daredevil was the darkest of the three, but the others had their moments and all had humour, well-drawn characters and moments of poignancy as well as action.  In other sci-fi/fantasy telly, Tatiana Maslany continued to be astonishing in Orphan Black, The Walking Dead continued to ramp up the tension till it was almost unbearable, and left us at mid-season break with everyone we care about in mortal peril – again.  The latter also spawned a prequel (Fear the Walking Dead) which showed the start of the crisis – the bit we missed as Rick Grimes was in a coma in hospital whilst society crumbled in the face of the undead onslaught.   And Humans was a thought-provoking and engaging take on issues around AI and what makes us human.

tatiana

As always we watched a lot of detectives. Two French series – old favourite Spiral was back (we missed you, Laure, Gilou, Tintin et al), and a new drama, Witnesses, was complex and compelling with an intriguing female lead (Marie Dompnier).   River was something else – Stellan Skarsgaard’s broody Nordic cop haunted by ‘manifests’ of his dead partner amongst others. Nicola Walker was stunning in this, as was Adeel Akhtar as River’s actual living partner.  Walker also caused considerable potential confusion by simultaneously leading in Unforgotten, which made one forget the implausibility of an entire police team investigating a very cold case (and nothing else, apparently) by the subtle and compassionate portrayal of the various suspects as their past actions resurfaced to disturb the lives and relationships they had built.  No Offence was refreshing too (though we felt uneasy with some particular plot developments in the later part of the series) with Joanna Scanlan’s  DI being startlingly rude, but also funny, forceful and warm, and a fab supporting cast.

witnessesno offence

This is England 1990

This is England deserves a much more in-depth consideration than I can give it here – one would need to re-view the whole series from the film to this final (if it is indeed that) instalment.  But there’s no denying – they can be a tough watch, as brilliantly funny as they often are.  It’s not just the moments of horrifying violence, I think the hardest thing would be to have to go through again with Lol her descent into despair in TiE 88.  Vicky McClure’s performance was intense without any histrionics and all the more devastating for that.  This final part had moments too, relating to Kelly, and to Combo, which stay in the mind.  And whilst the ending was upbeat, with that long-postponed wedding and Kelly’s return to the fold, Milky’s separation from the group and the reasons for it, and the likelihood that Kelly’s recovery will not be as straightforward as all that, mean that the darkness is not far away.  It’s been a hell of a series, with superb writing and direction and equally superb performances.

lolTIE

Raised by Wolves

When it comes to comedy I can be a hard woman to please.  Not that I don’t like a laugh,  GSOH, that’s me.  But I’ve given up on so many sitcoms because they’ve made me cringe more than they’ve made me chuckle.  However, despite feeling slightly neutral about the pilot, I did get into Raised by Wolves, and fell rather in love with the magnificent Della (Rebekah Staton) as well as with the writing, which as expected from Caitlin Moran (and sister Caroline) was rude and exuberantly funny.

della

Roseanne

We watched this back in the day (88-97) and rewatching it now is punctuated by cries of ‘OMG that’s George Clooney’, or spotting Big Bang Theory cast members (Sheldon’s mum and Lesley Winkle, with Leonard still to show).   But what we also realised was how much of our approach to parenting came from this show, where family life is chaotic, temperamental, combative but always loving.   And ‘our’ tradition of summoning family members to the meal table with a loud cry of ‘FOOOD’ appears to have been inspired by the Conners as well.  As I recall, things went seriously off kilter in later series, but so far, so funny.  Joss Whedon had a hand (probably just a fingertip in some eps) in the early series, which can’t ever be a bad thing.

roseanne

Résistance

French drama focusing on the activities of various Resistance groups in Occupied France – this was obviously a must-watch for me.  I hadn’t expected it to be as close to real events as it was, which was a mixed blessing, as I quickly realised who was doomed and who might survive… The central female character, Lili, was a fictional construct, which seems to have annoyed some viewers, but I felt it was a valid way of providing a thread to link the early activity of the Musée de l’Homme group with the Maison de la Chimie and the Combat and Manouchian groups, taking us all the way through to the Liberation.  It was a powerful, well constructed drama.  And the renditions of the Marseillaise, ringing out in prison cells and in the face of firing squads, came back to us so intensely in November when that spirit of defiance was called upon once again.

lili resistance

Fargo

If the idea of series 1 seemed in principle a bit odd, a second series was all the more so.  But if anything, series 2 is even better, even madder, even wittier than the first.  The film had Frances McDormand, who is always a very good thing, and series 1 had Allison Tolman, who filled those shoes admirably. In series 2 we root for her dad, Lou (we’ve gone back in time) and grandad Hank (played by Ted Danson), and her mother Betsy (I would like some time to see Cristin Milioti NOT dying of cancer, if that’s OK).  And we do kind of root for Peggy too, with her passion for self-actualisation and ‘being the best me I can be’, even if it proves somewhat dangerous for those around her.

fargo

Honourable mentions to Homeland, Doctor Foster (Suranne Jones magnificent as a woman scorned), and Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell.

And of course there was Doctor Who.  This year’s Who was top notch.  Capaldi really found his voice, the plots were rich and complex without being merely baffling, and the climactic episodes were powerful and moving.  I will be writing more about Who in due course.

who

Theatre

On the Crucible main stage, we saw Arthur Miller’s Playing for Time, with a stunning performance from Sian Phillips, and Romeo & Juliet, with Freddie Fox and Morfydd Clark as the lovers.  The Miller play seemed stagey at times (an odd criticism, in a way, for a stage play) but the performances carried it and I reflected afterwards on the way in which the Nazi death machine was itself stagey, whether the intention was to terrify and subjugate, or to deceive.  Romeo & Juliet was terrific, but reminded me of how bloody annoying those two are, and it’s no disrespect to the actors that I wanted to give them both a good slap.

Music

Operatic outings this year included a fabulous Kiss me Kate, a powerful Jenufa, and a magnificent Flying Dutchman, all from Opera North.

 

I’ve written previously about the splendid Bassekou Kouyate gig at the University’s Firth Hall.

bassekou_and_amy

At the Crucible Studio, Ensemble 360 treated us to performances of Mendelssohn, Ives, Janacek, Watkins, Brahms, Berg, Boulez, Kurtag, Mozart and Bartok, amongst others.  Such fantastic musicians, and particularly delighted to have had the chance to hear so much 20th century music this year.  Same venue, different ensemble –  Chris Biscoe’s Profiles of Mingus feat. Tony Kofi on sax (we’d heard him playing Mingus last year, with Arnie Somogyi’s Profiles of Mingus).  More jazz, courtesy of  Leeds Jazz Orchestra (feat. one Aidan Hallett) in Leeds Golden Acre Park.

And then there was Tramlines.   Nothing much to add to what I said at the time, except that I can’t wait for the 2016 festival.

So, thanks to those who shared these highlights with me.  I look forward to lots more in 2016.

I hope to blog more in 2016, of course.  I managed a post most months in 2015, and the overall total looks more impressive thanks to eight in Refugee Week and a few reblogs from That’s How the Light Gets In and Nowt Much to Say.  I blogged for Holocaust Memorial Day, wrote about the Hillsborough inquests, the 24 Hour Inspire, Marvel films, Tramlines, the phenomenon of the ‘fugueur’, the music of Mali, the ‘refugee crisis’, and the murderous attacks by Daesh in Paris and elsewhere.  I also blogged for Inspiration for Life, and on the aftermath of the May General Election. Thanks to all who have read, liked, reblogged, commented, etc.

And for 2016, which may seem to hold so much threat and so little hope, I cannot do better than to quote this poem, by Sheenagh Pugh.  Apparently she doesn’t rate it – scribbled it in a hurry on a card for a friend going through a tough time.  I beg to differ.

Sometimes things don’t go, after all,
from bad to worse.  Some years, muscadel
faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don’t fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

A people sometimes will step back from war;
elect an honest man, decide they care
enough, that they can’t leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.

Sometimes our best efforts do not go
amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen:  may it happen for you.

May it happen for you, may it happen for all of us.

 

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The music in my head (part 2): West Africa and beyond

To add to my most recent piece about the music of Mali, here’s a great piece from That’s How the Light Gets In on West African music (with a strong emphasis on Mali, naturally!)

That's How The Light Gets In

This is the second of three posts which round up some of the music that I’ve enjoyed in 2015 but never got round to writing about. This one discussed music from beyond these shores that I have been listening to in 2015, particularly some fine West African releases.

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