Neil: All my creative work flows from one event: when I was four I discovered my great aunt’s piano. I just had to play. My parents bought me a little toy one from Woolworths to see if I was serious. I persevered, so they bought me an upright that cost £4 from a family migrating to Australia. In my teens I ended up sharing a classical piano teacher with BAFTA winning actress Cheryl Campbell who was in my class at school. I think I must have thought I could play without much practice until one day Miss J said gently: “Neil, rather than do two hours on a Sunday the day before you see me, try doing just ten minutes a day.” How did she know, I puzzled. Now I see how right she was. However, it was the devil’s music that really got to me. Continue reading NEIL BEARDMORE – THE FULL PLAYWRIGHT’S VISION→
The ego endeavours in all kinds of ways to defend itself against the objective unpleasure and dangers which menace it – Anna Freud.
My childhood was characterised by solitary play. At an early stage, I crouched by the house with a stick and scraped out the mortar between bricks. Using my thumbs, I filled the holes with a sand-and-water paste. It was my idea of a physical experiment. I’d understood the need for secrecy so I did it on the quiet, when my parents weren’t looking. Later I imagined tunnelling out from my bedroom to explore the street as an undercover agent. Continue reading MY SECRET LIFE→
I first met painter and sculptor Sheelagh Frew Crane at the LP Café in Watford where she was playing a ‘voices-off’ part in a modernist play. When we talked later I realised that the idea of people hearing invisible voices was central to Sheelagh’s own artistic concerns.
When I asked her about the first signs of hearing voices in life, she described an incident that happened to someone she knew who had been leaving a room when a voice spoke, “Don’t go through that door.” The big shock for that person, Sheelagh said, was the real and absolutely external nature of the voice with no one else in the room. What usually followed, Sheelagh said, was a struggle against a rising tide of voices, often becoming menacing, then a ‘diagnosis’ followed by a long period of heavy medication, until finally the person came to accept the voices as a dialogue, establishing a working relationship.
Minnie Birch is a highly original folk-indie singer who writes her own material and has appeared three times with Joan Armatrading. I began my interview with Minnie by asking where her unusual stage name came from. She explained, “Minnie is my aunt’s middle name and Birch is my grandma’s maiden name.”
Leslie: You’ve recorded two albums Settled and Floundering. What’s the story behind these two titles?
Minnie:Settled is one of my favourite words. In one way it conjures up this idea of being at peace and secure, and on the other hand it has these connotations of giving up, settling for second best or ‘settling the score’. The title track from this EP is all about how an unconventional love can still be ‘settled’. At the time I was surrounded by people who were ‘settled’ and it seemed like my love wasn’t… and yet it was. It’s a song about how the magic bits of early love fade away but you still want to be with that person. That’s my idea of ‘settling’. Flounderingis, to me, the exact opposite of being settled. Continue reading A MUSICIAN’S TALE→
All of us have a primitive prompter or commentator within, who from earliest years has been advising us, telling us what the real world is – Saul Bellow.
Picture a room with a boy in bed. The room is small and, though it has a child’s wallpaper with rockets and stars and a chest full of toys, it feels quite empty. Bare and untouched, as if it was a cell. It’s summer and the glow from the street spreads across the walls. The light is soft and grey, filtered through curtains. Outside, the boys are playing football, shouting; inside, the boy is talking to himself. He’s imitating voices – cartoon characters and the woman next door. He speaks with an accent, all la-di-dah. Next he tries cockney. When he imitates children his voice goes squeaky and when he mimics adults he talks into his boots. His impressions are funny.
‘Without contraries is no progression’ – William Blake.
My childhood was full of journeys. Some of them were moves and some were visits. It meant that I travelled a lot for a child in the 1950s.
The first big trip was the annual Christmas drive from London to the NE. It took twelve hours through hail and snow with my dad white-knuckling the car around corners like Ahab in a storm. I sat in the back being good. At the end of that drive there was Christmas with family and lights and parties where everyone loved me. It was the kind of journey into darkness where the battle against the elements had a bright-and-shiny ending. Continue reading IT’S THE JOURNEY THAT COUNTS→
‘For me the process of creating art… is a way of re-connecting with your inner self, it stimulates the imagination, it can bring clarity, which in turn helps to dissolve problems; it strengthens the ability to concentrate and can have a calming and comforting effect.’
I interviewed Catherina Petit–van Hoey, a visual artist, originally trained in textile and fabric work, who now experiments with an unusual combination of mixed-media art, meditation, alchemy and art therapy. The titles Catherina uses for her artworks give an idea of some of her concerns, they include: ‘Threads of Time’, ‘Human Alchemy’, ‘Sweet Life’ and ‘The Enlightenment of a Housewife’.
‘Often I can see the humour and the sadness in the same situation and, as a writer, I have sometimes taken a tale which was told to me as a comic story and recast it as a tragic one or vice versa.’
I talked to Chris Hill, a former crime reporter who now writes literary and comic fiction. I asked Chris about his career as a journalist. “People sometimes think,” he told me, “that because I was news editor of The Citizenin Gloucester during the Fred and Rose West murder case, I write thrillers. Funny enough, I’ve never had any desire to do so.” Chris now works for WellChild, a UK charity which helps seriously ill children. “It’s a job,” he said, “which I find very fulfilling.” Chris was the 2001 winner of the Bridport Short Story Prize, so I began the interview with questions about his literary interests and methods.