http://mckenna.se/highres/vol54/TN2%20Vol%2054%20Issue%206

tn Artful, but is it art?

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WINING AND DINING Where to eat out when the parents are paying

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THE YEAR AHEAD IN FILM What Hollywood has in store for us in the year ahead

Portrait: Martin McKenna

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COVERNOTESP2

Catriona, xx

Notorious Crushproof: revealing the dangers of the crush.

Words: Victoria Notaro

I

have always longed to be one of those women who can remain sane when in the throes of lust or attraction. A girl that can really fancy somebody, yet no one else knows. I am not one of those lucky cows.

No, I am the kind of woman for whom the word “crush” is almost onomatopoeic and ridiculously apt. One who is completely caught up in the object of their affections, so much so that the entire world knows, and nine times outta ten, the guy does too.

Nine times out of ten, nothing comes of this crush, and it passes almost as quickly as it first overpowers me. Then I laugh at myself, wondering how I could have spent weeks (months) mooning over this fella, wearing out my Celine Dion Love album, and rewatching my rom com stash (regular readers will be aware I kinda like them). Yet that wasn’t always the case, as I was to find out with two guys, ironically two of my most intense crushes of all time.

In the first instance, I ended up with the bloke for a very long time. Yet the crush never really left me and I always felt he was superior to me in every way - it becomes a problem when you idolise the person who’s meant to be your equal.

Ah but the second one was much more juicy!

It turned out that this mystifying guy who I had admired from afar was equally interested in me, much to my surprise and delight. And it all started in a heady rush of optimism and excitement. But then, much to my surprise, my crush was crushed.

After getting what I wanted, I was like SOOO over it, to quote Clueless. The guy was still great, handsome and smart. But for him to like me that much back? What was he, a freak?! There was something about getting exactly what I wanted that was oddly unsatisfying. Was I crazy?! Or did I just

assume that one must suffer for something worth having? I was soon to learn.

Himself was not a Crushee. In fact, I first met him years ago when he was seeing a friend of a friend. I never in a million years thought I could fall in love with him. No, that could only happen with somebody I had tortured myself over. So imagine my surprise when an actual friendship with no agenda (on my part) led to something so much more.

“

Photo courtesy of Jerome’s Law

Polly Graham interviews the playwright Mark O’Rowe, on his upcoming projects, while in Edibles, Beth Armstrong provides an illuminating, if aspirational, guide on where to eat when your parents are paying, reviewing some of Dublin’s best restaurants.

Lucky for some.

This issue’s feature is on tattoos, possibly inspired by a certain writer’s recent, drunken decision to get one.

Apparently the fire drill is now officially over, so I’m free to return to the library, or, more realistically, the Arts Block café. Until next issue,

There was something about getting exactly what I wanted that was oddly unsatisfying.

Was I crazy?!

”

I was glad to have been proven wrong. For us sufferers, Crushees should be kept at more than an arm’s length. I don’t think somebody who ever had so much power over me, even if the lofty pedestal existed only in my head, could ever be right for me in a relationship. Unattainables are so much more attractive when they remain that way.

It’s embarrassing to put yourself out there romantically, but I’ve accepted that it’s a condition from which I suffer. And now I know there’s real happiness in discovering feelings you never thought could exist as you go along. Keep that guy in your head and out of your bed, I say.

COLLEGE BANDS: Jerome’s Law

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hank god for fire alarms. The fire drill in the Arts Block, which abruptly put an end to my Gothic Writing tutorial, proved a blessing in disguise as it meant I was able to finish TN2. Coursework’s loss is TN2’s gain, as most of the section editors will be able to tell you.

On that subject, this issue sees a review of the Debut Festival at the Samuel Beckett in Theatre, while in Art, Rebecca Long takes a look at Turner Prize winner Mark Wallinger, best known for wandering about the Tate dressed as a giant bear.

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erome’s Law have been doing the rounds for a few years now and, at this stage, have an EP and a string of quality gigs to their name.

Talking to guitarist Smiley (that’s Shane to his mother) from the warmth of my living room as the rain pelts down on a dreary winter afternoon, I’m reminded of the comforting nature of the fivepiece’s sound. “I call it pop music”, he explains when asked to describe his band’s music. “People can a have a negative reaction to that tag, which is hard to understand in the light of acts like the Beatles and the Kinks.”

Sixties pop can certainly be heard in tracks such as “Kicking in the Brain”,but Jerome’s Law are by no means a new Thrills. Other tunes betray a definite eighties influence, such as “Fight in the Dark”, with its “Wicked Game”-evoking lead. Overall, the indie pop of Gomez or the more melancholy side of the Decembrists are possibly the closest reference points.

Like most college bands, Jerome’s Law have their lulls from time to time.

“At the moment, we’re not up to a whole lot,” Smiley tells me. “Some of the guys are doing exams, but we’ve been trying to mash in a few gigs here and there.”

On the topic of gigs in Dublin, he pulls no punches. “There’s a bigger scene above us – bands like Director and Delerentos – but on our level, there are only a handful of really good bands and a load of not-so-good ones. On lowerend gigs, there’s no real quality filter so you get a lot of pretty poor gigs, which doesn’t encourage the punter to come out to see new bands.”

Creativity-wise, things look bright for the band. “We have so many more ideas than we can do right now, but we’d absolutely give anything to put an album out there. At the moment, it’s a case of trying to get people into us.” A quality band, then, in search of new fans. What more need I say? www.jeromeslaw.com www.myspace.com/jeromeslaw

Mark O’Rowe

P3INTERVIEW

Photo: Ros Kavanagh

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ou’re the first person I’ve spoken to all day”, Mark O’Rowe declares to me as we take shelter from the rainy winter afternoon in a pub and order coffee. As a writer, O’Rowe explains, one necessarily leads a fairly solitary existence and the transition back into the real world can be disconcerting; it takes a while if you like, to remember talking. Conversation, however, like play writing, seems to be another forte for O’Rowe – he explains how he has to talk an idea through to find its nub.

O’Rowe says the genesis of his inspiration to write was a combined result of the advent of the home video and action films. His first pieces of writing were plagiarisms of awe-inspiring playground accounts of Bruce Lee films. By the time he was 24, he decided to “actually do something” and write seriously, and though he’d never been to a play before, he began to write one of his own. It was a way of writing “without knowing grammar because you could always claim realism; that that was how people speak.”

In 1997, he had four plays first produced – two pieces for Dublin Youth Theatre as well as Anna’s Ancle and From Both Hips under the Abbey Young Playwright’s scheme. Then came a difficult and long period of blocked ideas; “the big leap” was two years later with Howie the Rookie. The idea of telling one story from two intertwining perspectives through two extended monologues was prompted by his reading Samuel Beckett’s Molloy, and Conor MacPherson’s plays. It was more experimental than any previous work, perhaps coming from his “not giving a shit anymore and realising [he]’d nothing to lose”. This spirit of abandon brought forth a mighty creation; a play about enmity, friendship between two men caught up in gang rivalries, petty crime and accidental sacrifice in south Dublin. It is told in the form of two monologues and through language so detailed and vaulting, the experience of watching it was visceral, and the impact of the play, enduring. For this, O’Rowe deservedly won nu-

merous awards. Of Karl Shiels and Aidan Kelly, he says, he couldn’t have asked for a better cast. Testament to this came, of course, when the two actors reprised their roles seven years on, and though they were both noticeably older than their characters, the power of their performances was undiminished.

Another acclaimed success for O’Rowe was his screenplay Intermission, which he wrote as a money spinner: “it wasn’t difficult, with an ensemble that big and with that many story lines, if you don’t know how to keep going with one scenario you just cut to another story.” What was hard about Intermission was the gap between the writer’s vision of the piece and the director’s final (and different) realisation - “Screenwriting never gives you the same buzz.” During filming, he says that explaining he was the writer felt as insignificant as the cameraman’s cousin! Of course the advantage of film, for a writer whose imagination was nourished for so long by action films, is that one can do anything…unless there is a sudden money shortage. He wrote an almighty car chase for the ending of Intermission, which he didn’t discover had been impossible to realise until he first watched the finished piece. “It’s an okay film with some exceptionally good performances: I love Colin Farrell in it and Colm Meaney – his face on the screen is so compelling!”

Though this great literary imagination seems first to have been captivated by the screen, perhaps it’s the detail of hearing people talk about action films which is significant. Theatre, where the voice is so dominant, where language can abound, is where Mark O’Rowe is happiest. He speaks of the theatre as a very accepting, sociable space, which challenged all his preconceptions and has always welcomed his presence even when he was only sitting in on productions of his plays as “the writer”. This enthusiasm led to his directing debut with his most recent play Terminus; which was so successful, he is resolved to continue directing his own work.

With Terminus, O’Rowe seems bent on proving that the limits of theatre are less con-

Polly Graham interviews the Irish playwright who wrote the screenplay for Intermission, the celebrated plays Howie the Rookie, Crestfall, and most recently, Terminus.

strained than we might think. Using interlacing monologues, this play follows three people’s lives wrenched into a fantastical sphere; one woman’s death, her experience of the afterlife, a love affair with a flying demon made of worms, dissolution of identity and reincarnation. Every line is crammed with internal rhymes, rhythms and alliteration. There is a tension between exhaustion and celebration of the lexicon. My remark on the exuberant poetic language meets with accounts of struggles he had with this form: “Each time I start something new now, it feels harder.” Yet with the success of Terminus, has he never considered writing straight poetry? “Oh God, no way! I feel pretentious enough telling people I’m a playwright!” And pretentious, Mark O’Rowe is not. His explanations behind “interesting choices” which critics laboriously read into his work are staggeringly direct – the reason the characters in Terminus, for example, do not have real names (merely A, B and C), is not because he was trying to develop ideas of anonymity and isolation, but because he “couldn’t be bothered to think up names for them.”

Mark O’Rowe is a bold writer, not interested in pandering to critics in search of a fashionable theme - I ask about the reputation he has gained as the writer who gives a voice to “the underbelly of the Celtic tiger”, but he insists this has never been on his agenda, that his writing is not that polemical: “You write because you have an idea and you want to see where you can go with it, it’s hard enough just to tell a story.”

Simon Armitage renowned for his quotidian aesthetic and linguistic invention, Ted Hughes (“the Birthday Letters, not when he writes about nature and all that shit”), as well as Beckett (“for his musicality”) and Shakespeare (he has done a rewrite of Henry V) are some of his most revered writers. Meanwhile, among theatre enthusiasts and aspiring playwrights in Dublin, O’Rowe himself is becoming a subject of reverence. If you haven’t seen Terminus, catch it at the Edinburgh International Festival 2008 this summer after it makes its New York premiere this month.

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T

attoo you

Whatever possessed human beings to repeatedly stab ourselves with needles containing dye?

Rebecca Long investigates the art of the tattoo. Portaits by Martin McKenna.

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B

arry is a 24-year-old tattoo artist who is thought to be currently the most tattooed man in Ireland, with nearly his entire body coved. After getting his first his tattoo (an oriental dragon on his forearm) at 17, he began his career with an internship in California.Though they now blend together to form one design, each individual tattoo has a meaning, with the star and the word fate on the back of his right arm his favourite, “I’m saving a few spots like the back of my legs for family or special tattoos, but other than that, I’m pretty covered.”

Though he loves the results, there is a cost, “I hate the pain, anywhere near a bone is really painful. The worst was when I had the spikes in my head put in, I had an allergic reaction and my face swelled to five times its normal size, my Mum (who usually supports his tattoos) cried when she saw me!” While he doesn’t believe he is perceived negatively due to his appearance, he has had a few problems, “The piercing are all surgical steel so I don’t have a problem with airport metal detectors, but I was once held in America for two hours while they checked none of my tattoos were gang related!”

Stepping over the threshold of a tattoo parlour for the first time can be a nerve-wracking if not downright risky business. You have your reasons, but could you explain them?

Put the desire into words? Or would that lessen its impact? Will this new tattoo express something you've never been able to articulate before? As a piece of art will it mean anything? Or last question - is it just a tattoo?

Tattoos have existed as an art form, both physically and aesthetically for centuries. When you define them as a permanent picture or design on the skin, you realise what a visceral connection tattoos provide between us, our bodies and the concept of art.

Throughout history, tattoos have been used to symbolise marks of rank and status, to brand convicts and outcasts, to celebrate love and religious devotion, to reward bravery and enhance fertility.

Tattoos, to put it simply, are more than just the crude designs we used to associate with sailors and bikers.

In today's increasingly individualistic society, tattoos have come to symbolise something, in fact, they have come to symbolise a great deal. Tattoo artistry is a well-established historical art form that has undergone dramatic changes during the last three

decades alone. That's right - it's art.

Once a taboo practise largely confined to those aforementioned sailors and bikers, tattooing has evolved, both artistically and culturally. In fact, nowadays tattooing is becoming widely recognised as one of the oldest and most meaningful art forms, its significance being integral to so many diverse societies. And it's not just because Johnny Depp has a few.

Tattoos and the culture that surrounds them have been an indelible (pardon the pun) part of society for centuries. Associated with criminals and kings, with freedom and slavery, when we begin to chart the history of the tattoo, we find ourselves charting our own histories. As humans we use myths and legends to explain the world to ourselves, to bring order to the chaos, if only in symbolic terms and tattoos and their origins form part of a worldwide mythology that chronicles our experiences as human beings.

According to Māori mythology, tattooing as an art form began with a love affair between a man called Mataora (which means Face of Vitality) and a princess from the underworld named Niwareka. As with every good myth, all was not plain sailing for the young lovers, as Niwareka fled to her father's realm of Uetonga after receiving a beating from Mataora.

P5FEATURE Heartbroken and full of remorse Mataora followed his princess, arriving in Uetonga after many trials. However, Niwareka's family mocked him when they saw him because his traditional face paint was messy and smudged after his long journey. He begged for the princess's forgiveness, which she eventually granted, and her father offered to teach Mataora the art of tattooing. Mataora and Niwareka returned to the human world together, bringing this formerly otherworldly art with them.

So what meaning are we to derive from an ancient myth such as this? That spousal abuse probably isn't the way to a happy relationship? Obviously. But the allusions made here to the otherworldly origins of tattoos are fascinating, to say the least. The idea of permanency in an unstable, everchanging world is an attractive one, all the more so if this permanency can be translated into a statement displayed on your own body. Are we to view the process of tattooing ourselves and the subsequent results as a way to communicate with, or at the very least, acknowledge something higher than ourselves, a form of ultimate freedom?

Well, obviously not if your tattoo reads “Bray Wanderers Forever”,but for some of us, the characters, symbols and words we choose to tattoo permanently onto our bodies have a highly spiritual and personal significance.

Why would someone like Angelina Jolie have a Tennessee Williams quote as a tattoo unless it had some sort of resonance, unless they were trying to acknowledge something they couldn't quite articulate or express by themselves? Something larger than us and something so very universal that it must be displayed permanently for it to have any meaning at all. “A prayer for the wild at heart kept in cages.” A very public, very quiet rebellion.

The cultural state of tattoos has steadily evolved from an expression of social and political rebellion in the 1960s to an accepted form of self expression in the 1990s. Public figures such as athletes, pop stars and actors, like Ms Jolie and the aforementioned Mr Depp, who play major roles in setting a culture's behavioural patterns can be seen sporting highly individual tattoos which seem to express something about their ideals and personality. And they look pretty good too. In a way, tattoos have become the prevailing fashion of the counterculture.

In the '70’s, San Francisco tattoo artist Lyle Tuttle was attracting attention for his designs displayed on The Rolling Stones and the concept of a “tattoo artist” began to gain credibility.

The moment Tuttle tattooed blues singer Janis Joplin with a wristlet and a small heart on her left breast is considered to be a seminal one in the mainstream's acceptance of tattoos as

an art form. The idea that people, famous or not, could become living galleries for a tattoo artist's work is a compelling one. Even the term “body art” alludes to something skilful, something aesthetically valuable and what remains fascinating is how as a practise it has moved from the margins of society to the mainstream.

The actual procedure is where some people can get a bit squeamish.

Traditionally in certain tribal cultures, tattoos were created by literally cutting designs into the skin and rubbing ink or ashes into the wound, a process which may have links to the modern trend of scarification, which is as pleasantly painless as it sounds. Some cultures used a kind of tapping technique, using sharp wooden or bone tools to literally tap the ink into the skin.

Nowadays, the most commonly used method is the electric tattoo machine, which uses an oscillating unit to drive groups of needles into and out of the skin at 80 to 150 times a minute placing pigment into the skin's dermis layer - that's the one below the epidermis. When the dermis heals around the pigment the tattoo, be it a love heart with an arrow through it or a Chinese character you can't quite translate, is formed on the skin First invented in 1891 by Samuel O'Reilly, the electric tattoo machine has remained surprisingly unchanged, unlike the concept of the tattoo itself.

When Village Voice art critic Elizabeth Hess reviewed the 1995 tattoo based art exhibit “Pierced Hearts” at the Drawing Centre of New York she wrote, “Every artist in town will want to see 'Pierced Hearts' because it's the real thing.'“ Tattoo art has gained a validity in modern culture that was perhaps always present but not entirely visible. The show was so successful that it went on a national tour showcasing outstanding artists who were developing their own unique styles and recording through their designs, the history of their art form. In a way tattoo art is a context through which we can view our own history, a medium of meaning that can give us not only personal but social perspective. As societies have evolved, we have seen the tattoo become a matter of personal choice and expression.

Nowadays, tattooed men and women display on their bodies their participation in a tradition that has historically linked humanity with religion, with love, with nature and with life. In certain cultures tattoos are an integral part of sacred rituals, rites of passage, spiritual awakenings. In a way they are even more than an art form.

They remain part of our social and cultural history…even if the average teenager is only getting one to piss their parents off.

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icky,19, got her first tattoo on her eighteenth Birthday “I had the same idea, the stars on my forearms, for years, so I was sure of it. But they didn’t turn out how I wanted at all and when I went back to have them fixed they still ended up looking the same.” Since then, she has gotten seven more tattoos, all designed herself after a lot of thought and is really pleased.

Unlike Barry, who has his tattoos for work reasons, Vicky’s reasons are very different, “For me they are art, and each one has a story. I think tattoos are beautiful and my family love them” Her favourite is the Japanese girl on her back, which she based on the artwork of artist Junko Mizuno. Also unlike Barry, she enjoys the pain of the process and though she loves her tattoos, she does have limits “Nothing on the face or chest, that’s too far.” The expense is sometimes problematic but that is solved for her next one, “My boyfriend is paying for it for my Christmas present!”

FILMP6 t i s i , d r o w y M r a e Y w e N e th ! ? y d a alre Its the New Year and Hollywood has balanced its books, counted the profits, made bids for the Oscars and turned its publicity machine into overdrive for the coming twelve months, heres a quick synopsis of the ones to watch in 2008.

Words: Conor O’Kelly

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loverfield is a misleadingly innocent sounding name for a film; it smacks of Wysteria Lane or some other suburban drama, it is, in fact, the title of one of the most hyped and anticipated titles of 2008, a science fiction spectacular featuring a Godzillaesque, Statue of Liberty decapitating monster from out of space.

Conceived by the brains behind TV series Lost, hordes of internet blogging geeks are getting very hot under the collar about this one. Hotness of a different variety comes in the form of Sweeney Todd, starring Johnny Depp and Helen Bonham Carter, also due this side of the Atlantic before the end of the month.Tim Burton’s latest has received very favourable reviews in the United States.

A whole rake of remakes due in 2008 continues what has always been a worrying trend; studios are loathe to give up successful franchises and equally risk averse with new ideas or formats. Tough break if you already splashed out on the Collectors’ DVD sets of Saw or Rambo, as both are due a rehash this year, perhaps inevitably, Sly Stallone writes and directs in the latter. Much more promising is the return of Harrison Ford in Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of the

Crystal Skull; with Steven Spielberg directing and a cast including acting geniuses Ray Winstone and Cate Blanchett, this will be a major summer blockbuster.

The summer market is awash with comic book action heroes. Iron Man is being distributed by Paramount Pictures, but is, in fact, the first independent production by Marvel Comics and stars Robert Downey Jr. Batman is back in The Dark Knight, again eagerly anticipated by the anoraks who loved what returning director Chris Nolan did in the last episode and can’t wait to see Heath Ledger as the Joker. Edward Norton is The Incredible Hulk and Hellboy also returns for a new installment. The family-friendly Speed Racer is going to be a media-blitz-transglobal event: expect merchandising from McDonalds and LEGO. A retelling of the 1980s Japanese cartoon, it is directed

by Wachowski Brothers (The Matrix), and stars Emile Hirsch and Christina Ricci.

Date movies, romantic comedies, whatever you want to call them, are another genre shamelessly supported by studios; box office receipts must make it worth their while and somehow salve their collective conscience: 2008 is no different. Uma Thurman appears in The

Accidental Husband alongside a rather spiffing cast including Colin Firth, Isabella Rossellini and Sam Shepherd.

George Clooney will swoon audiences alongside Renée Zellweger in Leatherheads, a 1920’s period piece centred around American professional football. He’s Just Not That Into You has another ridiculously strong ensemble cast including Drew Barrymore, Scarlett Johansson, Jennifer Aniston and Ben Affleck. Based on the (depressingly idiotic) idea that women must not pursue men who don’t pursue them first, this will undoubtedly be a huge success, particularly with the crowds who will flock to Sex and the City: The Movie, also due for summer release.

Judd Apatow (Knocked Up, Superbad) looks set to continue his reign as Hollywood’s comedy impresario with involvement in projects including Don’t Mess With Zohan, starring Adam Sandler as an Israeli counter terrorist wannabe hair stylist, Pineapple Express, ,starring Seth Rogen and James Franco as a pothead and his dealer and Step Brothers, starring the irrepressible Will Ferrell. In the same vein, Be Kind Rewind stars Jack Black and Mos Def. Having accidentally erased the entire collection of video tapes in the video rental store that Def works in, the two produce reenactments of the

films in an attempt to evade discovery.

Directed by Michel Gondry, this one promises to be a cut above average On a more high brow note and very eagerly anticipated is Daniel Day-Lewis’s appearance in There Will Be Blood.

Already tipped for Oscars from advance screenings, Day-Lewis is in full method form and apparently gives a staggering performance as a misanthropic oilman of 1920’s America. Colin Farrell teams up with Ed Norton for Pride and Glory, a New York cops and corruption drama.

Finally the feature length debut of playwright Martin McDonagh (The Beauty Queen of Leenane, 1996), In Bruges, sees hitmen Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson hiding out after a job gone wrong - this film has been chosen to open the 2008 Sundance Film Festival.

There many more including, X-Files, Star Trek, Harry Potter, Narnia and another “James Bond” installment.

Remember: these are only the blockbusters, countless independent and arthouse films will also compete for your eyeballs in 2008, so be sure to spread your euros and support the Irish Film Institute. This is where the really original films will appear this year, and think about it – do you really want to see the The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor?

P7FILM

The monstrous Coen Brothers Words: Ciara Barrett

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n a scene from the Coen Brothers’ latest film No Country For Old Men, the antihero Llewelyn Moss asks, concerning the vengeful Angel of Death-cumdelusional sociopath Anton Chigurh (played to horrible perfection

by Javier Bardem), “What’s this guy supposed to be…the ultimate badass?”

“No,” answers hitman Woody Harrelson, at his hospital bedside, “I’d just say he doesn’t have a sense of humour.”

The films of Joel and Ethan Coen, who have written, produced, directed and edited together a prestigious body of work, from Blood Simple in ‘84, and including Barton Fink and Fargo of ’96, The Big Lebowski (’98), and O Brother, Where Art Thou? from 2000, tend to be able to find the funny in humourless badasses. Well, if not in them, around them. There is something witty—wittingly or not—in Mad Man Munt (played by John Goodman, ever-present to the Brothers) in Barton Fink when he distractedly refuses the offered return of a boxed package he entrusted to Fink for safe-keeping which may or may not—but most likely does—contain the decapitated head of a woman Fink slept with: “You keep it”, he says. “It’s yours.”

And in Fargo, Gaear Grimsrud’s disposal of Carl Showalter’s (Steve Buscemi, another familiar face in the Coens’) dead body via woodchipper is hilariously macabre.

What makes these guys “badass” is their total and irreverent disregard for a real or conceptualized ordered Ameri-

can society, a society “ordered” by respect for materials both bodily (a humanist ideology) and manufactured (a capitalist ideology) and which may be exploded—often literally in the Coen Brothers’ movies—by subverting or turning the former (in)to the latter. (In this sense, churning a human leg into itty bloody bits with powertools becomes an ironic social statement) But I guess it’s not even a “disregard” for order really, in these Coen Badasses, as that would imply a rational refusal or rejection of ideology. Rather these guys don’t even know the ideology exists and that’s what makes it powerless against them. That’s why The Dude of The Big Lewbowski can’t be Badass: by his own admission, he’s been to college, he’s held some version of a job, he’s been through the wringer, the system, whatever you want to call it—he has some history. And he also has a conscience, a sense of sympathy for his fellow man—or, at the very least, a porn star named Bunny.

Setting aside their commonly talkedabout lush cinematography, an ironic particularity of settings in the corners and middles of America, pastiche plays, and generic homages, we might trace through the Coen Brothers’ films a thematic concern for an inherent and pathological lack of—or losing of—this “sense of sympathy” in American society, past and present and future. These bad(ass) guys are simply incapable of feeling with (a transliteration of “sympathy”) other people, which is probably the implicit reason for their compulsive

need to inflict pain, to inflict feeling.

They can understand empathy, that is, a feeling for, feeling one’s own pain in lieu of another’s having to, and they know they can’t have that, but they do not know that that pain, that feeling, can be withheld, out of sympathy that inspires thought and feeling before action. Case in point: “You don’t have to do this,” Llewelyn’s wife confronts Chigurh, at once rationalizing for her life under threat and making an emotional appeal.

And Chigurh laughs. Her plea is so cliché, so naively faithful in a sympathetic human nature that he simply does not have; Chigurh can appreciate the dramatic irony in that. But is it humorous?

No. And it is in this detachment of irony from humour that No Country also detaches itself, in a way, from the rest of the Coen Brothers’ body of work.

Almost every one of their films is a play on—or plays with—genre and film codes: The Hudsucker Proxy (1994) and Intolerable Cruelty (2003), for example, throwbacks to Howard Hawskian 1940s slapsticks, Miller’s Crossing (1990) and The Man Who Wasn’t There (2001) heavily visually coded for film noir.

Their narratives play with audiences’ expectations, therefore, according to the genres into which they are fitted (or not, as the case may be). This “playfulness” is the source of satire and irony and thus lends itself to humour, which is, essentially, a recognition of play or being played with.

But Anton Chigurh, who is at the

heart—or the pit, I should say, because this is a movie quite effectively without so-called “heart”—of No Country is the antithesis of “play” or satire or irony, as we know it in the movies. His page-boy haircut is undeniably funny-looking, but it can’t be funny without recognition from within the narrative. His vengeful, violent acts are so paradoxically unnecessary and coldly reasoned and performed that they defy criticism or analysis. There may be moments of irony and play around him, suggestions of humour, but that feeling cannot last, the centre of humour cannot hold, and narrative tropes therefore fall apart.

The title, No Country For Old Men, which is also the title of the Cormac McCarthy book of which it is a faithfully adaptation, is, tellingly, taken from the opening line of Yeats’s poem “Sailing to Byzantium”, wherein he laments “the artifice of eternity”, the inability to preserve the essence “Of what is past, or passing, or to come.” No Country For Old Men appropriately stands out in stark contrast to the films, supposedly of “its kind” and by the same makers. Like its own enigmatic character Chigurh, it plays against being “played out”. It’s what makes it weirdly wonderful and truly horrifying. It is, I think, evidence that the Coen Brothers have, if not a faithful confidence in the good nature and humour of mankind, a good sense of humour about themselves and moviemaking, past, present and future.

No Country For Old Men is released on 18 January.

MUSICP8

the soft bulletin Words: Carolyn Power

A

nother year, another off-the-wall big screen musical, another distraction as the exams creep silently up on us like a vast, silent, creepy-crawly thing. Hot on the heels of the Hairspray remake, Tim Burton’s celluloid shrine to Steven Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd is set to dazzle many – and probably leave just as many slightly confused by it all. I’m looking forward to it with bated breath anyway: mad barbers, random odd singing, cockney madams (you Lovett, you slag), pies made of murder victims as a classic waste-not-want-not attitude, opportunities for the worst puns you will ever make (“razor-sharp”…”a cut above”: pretty much 75% of the critic’s comments, I’d wager)…what’s not to love?

For the rest of you who can’t wait to see it either, or any of you who just like seeing odd films with music in them, while you wait for Mr. T. and his blades of glory (eh? Eh?), take a gander at John Waters’ 1989 squares’n’drapes effort, Cry-Baby, which is a bit like Grease’s funnier, better-looking cousin. Starring a young Johnny Depp in one of his first films, Traci Lords in one of her first legal films and Iggy Pop in a tin bucket bathtub, this doo-wop versus rockabilly adventure features everything from the sublime (Depp, natch) to the faintly disturbing (Amy Locane knocking back a jarful of her own tears). You simply must.

And as for a few standout musical moments for the flashboxes: 1) Christina Ricci’s bowling lane tapdance in Vincent Gallo’s Buffalo ’66: a strangely arresting clip from one of the best and funniest love stories ever 2) The Dude’s Kenny Rogers trip in The Big Lebowski 3) The ear-slicing “Stuck In The Middle” sequence in Reservoir Dogs 4) The whistling-and-stalking bit in Twisted Nerve.

There is also, of course, the fantabulous “Time Warp” from the Rocky Horror Picture Show: but then, if you need me to tell you that, then you have been living in a bunker and probably don’t get the Trinity News there, and so cannot be helped.

Regarding entertainment of the live variety, some dates for the diary include Los Campesinos in the Village on and Johnny Flynn and the Sussex Wit in Crawdaddy on 16 February.

Go figure The Go! Team’s Jamie Bell shows us how sensible rock stardom is done. Words: Layla Hancock-Piper

W

hen I turned up at Tripod to interview The Go! Team ahead of their recent show, I was greeted by a large sign exhorting me to turn on my Bluetooth and a bevy of young women in hazmat suits. It was all a little puzzling,until I remembered that the night was organised by Nokia as part of their interactive, digital, musical, creative multimedia feast, otherwise known as “The Trends Lab”. The lab part seems to explain the hazmat suits, but the Bluetooth? Turning on your phone, you are greeted by a deluge of digital delights (if you’ll excuse the alliteration). The reason I’m here, though, is The Go! Team, who are, well, a really, really good band, well, project, or ensemble… or whatever they are. You see, the mastermind behind the Team, Ian Parton, made his first album, Thunder lightning Strike, alone in his mother’s kitchen in Wales. He used a multitude of record players to assemble a range of diverse samples into a glorious cacophony of catchy tracks that leave you with the distinct feeling that you’ve heard them somewhere before. Parton was only forced to recruit a band of fellow musicians when Franz Ferdinand asked him to open for them on their 2004 tour.

The current line-up consists of Sam Dook, Kaori Tsuchida, Chi Taylor, Ninja, Jamie Bell and, of course, Parton himself. Before their packed-out gig, I had a chat with the very lovely Jamie Bell. Bell, (who must not be confused with the “Billy Elliot”-playing acting moppet of the same name) was, for a rock star, very ordinary. I asked hopefully if the band lives together in a big

team-headquarters style house, I was informed that, no, they don’t. In fact they don’t even all live in the same city and when they aren’t on tour, they all have too much catching up to do with old friends to party it up as a gang of rock stars. So far, so sensible.

Of the band’s recent United States tour with The Flaming Lips, which had been sold to the band as a three way with Sonic Youth, Bell seemed pretty chuffed, if a little dazed.

Recalling one particularly memorable night, in which Sonic Youth did actually perform, he couldn’t remember anything about the city except “there was a baseball stadium.” Right.

Turning to the band’s peculiar sample-based genre of music, I was curious about how Bell felt about music sharing, and by extension, illegal downloading. Acknowledging that it is increasingly impossible to prevent, Bell described it as “a grey area, it’s easy to be a hypocrite about it”,noting that “people have been taping off the radio for years, it’s just easier now.”

The Go! Team’s most recent album Proof of Youth was leaked on the internet this spring, months prior to its official release, something Bell describes as “really really annoying, it ruined the whole build-up.” But, “it’s never going to go away and if someone likes us, they’ll probably buy the album anyway.” Gearing up for the night’s performance, I was curious as to just how a band whose music is so sample based manage to put on such a dynamic live show. “there’s not much improvisation” Bell admits “but it’s a lot of fun, and there’s still room to fuck it up”.

On that note I left Bell to whatever his crazy rock star preparations might be, (cup of tea? Quick smoke?)

Oh, and they didn’t fuck it up.

P9MUSIC

B

Biffy

JAZZ

-FUN

iffy Clyro are the new Metallica. At least that’s what a certain well-known newspaper is saying. Puzzling as that might sound, it’s clear that these guys are becoming a very big band indeed. The Scottish three-piece combines a sterling pop sensibility with an admirable dose of progressive rock. Once known only by a small but devoted fan base, their fourth effort “Puzzle” went straight to number two in the UK charts, along with the critics’ stamp of approval. We spoke to the band on the tails of a successful gig in the Phoenix Park.

“We’re getting used to playing bigger venues now”, said drummer Ben of the gig, “we love playing Ireland.

We’re definitely coming here more often”.Suspicious as that sounds, the band has, in fact, been known to play here regularly in venues like Whelan’s and the Music Centre in past years. Recently, they branched out of the capital for a four show Irish tour, and have scheduled dates with American nu-metallers Linkin Park. I couldn’t help but ask. “I’ll try to be diplomatic about this”, was the good-natured reply. “I don’t listen to their cds, I don’t know anyone that does, but it’s a good

K OF

Clyr

o

TOM O

opportunity to play for kids that mightn’t have seen us before.”

It’s not just in Europe they’re making headway. A controversial incident State-side recently had the spotlight on the band. The show running late, the promoters decided to cut the band’s stage time to one song in the middle of their set. The band showed their displeasure by destroying their instruments and the stage before being forcibly removed by security. “I think we acted appropriately given the situation”. A refreshing change from the insincere theatrics we’ve come to expect from some rock bands then.

Indeed, up to this point, Biffy have owed much of their attraction to outstanding musical ability on stage and in the studio rather than gimmicks or marketing.

Three part harmonies and frequent time signature changes surface frequently on most tracks: this is no mean feat within a three-piece format. “It means

RRO W?

there’s less to hide behind on stage. Also, we don’t have to worry about guitarists fighting with each other when we’re writing songs”.That said, the new album is certainly a departure from their old sound, featuring more conventional structures and cleaner production, which has displeased some older fans. “We’re happy with the album. We don’t decide a direction in advance, it just happens naturally. The next one could be a jazz-funk record.”

Words: Steven Lydon

LIVEREVIEWS

T

Foy Vance

Madness

@ The Sugar Club 19/11/07

@ Odyssey Arena 7/12/07

Words: Tim Smyth

Words: Chris Kitson

here's something in the water up North at the moment. Just as we're getting to know the wonderful Duke Special, along comes Foy Vance to make sure we realise how beguiling a lilting Ulster accent is. The Bangor-born troubadour's on the up and up lately, with a brace of songs featuring in Grey's Anatomy and a debut long-player – Hope – burning up the critical columns.

Support for tonight's show comes from Colm Lynch. Now, you might imagine that he's just another graduate of Whelan's Academy for the Terminally Dejected, but no better-left-in-thebedsit moper is he. During opener “Lucinda”, he comes on like a oneman hoedown.

No matter how good the support is, though, tonight is Foy's night. He's the McGyver of live music: armed with only his voice, his guitar, a £19 suit and a whole heap of loop-pedals, he takes the audience on a grand tour that covers Louisiana, Motown and the streets of Belfast. He makes quite the first

impression on this hack, delivering Bukowski-inspired lyrics (“I liked the look of her skin. I wanted to peel it off and put it in a frame”) over swampy loop textures.

The quality doesn't flag for a minute, and neither does the variety. “Be With Me” is a hollering blues stomp laid over the kind of beat-boxing that would have Tom Waits taking notes, while “Gabriel And The Vagabond” is a paredback tale of redemption. Set highlight “It Doesn't Take A Whole Day” is the kind of song that you could cover in caramel and turn into a dessert. He even throws in a few covers – or rather, reinventions. “Back In Black” features scat-singing instead of interminable soloing, and “Billie Jean” becomes from a ballad more fragile than a Ming vase.

It feels like a gig in your living room and when he closes the set with a recording of his daughter singing, you expect him to head home, lock up and sit back by the fire.

Funny, that, considering how he's about to go stellar.

T

he crowd that descended upon Belfast’s Odyssey arena on the night of Friday 7 December was something to behold. Punters of all ages and all sizes went a good way to filling the huge venue. Never have I seen so many people wearing fezzes and pork pie hats in one place. Only one band could draw together such a range of people sporting such a range of headgear: Madness.

Madness were the most successful band to come out of the Ska revival of the early eighties and they spent most of that decade atop the charts. They visited Belfast as part of the Transport From London tour.

The lights dimmed and the chimes of Big Ben counted down as Madness appeared onstage. They launched straight into Ska anthem “One Step Beyond”; band members bounded about the stage and brass instruments swung wildly.

Suggs, collar up, shades on, was the classic showman and managed to dominate a crowded stage of ten

people. The big screens cut between close-ups of the band’s antics and some marvellous animations.

The band played old songs early on, including several from their first album, before moving on to newer stuff. So far, so good, but there was a growing sense of anticipation in the audience; we had yet to hear any of the greatest hits.

And then, with the first few drumbeats of “House of Fun”, the ska-pop volcano erupted. Those at the front danced flailingly, those at the back sang loudly.

The last few songs were a medley of Madness classics; “Baggy Trousers”, “Our House”, “It Must Be Love”. This was made all the more impressive by Kix, the sax player, floating ten feet above the stage.

It was a memorable night and after two encores, the nutty crowd dispersed to hang up their fezzes in the knowledge that they had seen something special.

FASHIONP10

New year,

new

makeup bag

I

Words: Patrice Murphy

don’t think that there is anything in the world that I love more than sitting down with my girls and having a bit of a gossip. To be honest, I think it’s the same for every girl, and inevitably the conversation will turn to the trivial and fairly shallow topic of our skin and make-up. As college students, we go out alot, we drink a lot, we fall asleep without taking our makeup off A LOT and it’s par for the course, but our skin does suffer as a result. These girly SOS meetings are therefore crucial to the discovery of some sumptuous new skincare products for a bit of TLC and, of course, some shiny new make-up to cover up all those sins. And if two heads are better than one, isn’t one hundred better again? With this in mind, I took to the streets and found what Trinity students would call their “cult products” and “top beauty buys”.

In terms of skincare, most of you seemed to favour Nivea and Simple for cleansers and moisturisers. Face wipes also seemed to be a product that most of you couldn’t live without, with Rimmel and Simple as the top two brands named.

At this juncture, can I plead with you, stop using face wipes!! Convenient in a pinch, but the high levels of alcohol found in most high street brands are extremely damaging and drying on the skin, and its not uncommon to get a burning sensation. Far better is a cream cleanser or a facial wash like Clinique’s “3-step program”, costing approximately €87, which many students highly rated as their favourite cleanser, toner and moisturiser.

Again, I recommend caution in using toners; check the list of ingredients and watch out for those containing large amounts of alcohol, as many do, and can be very damaging to the skin if not removed properly.

However, one cleanser that was mentioned quite frequently and which I’m now looking forward to trying out myself is the Cetaphil “Gentle Skin Cleanser” for dry or sensitive skin. It claims to ‘not strip the skin of natural protective oils or emollients or disturb the skin’s natural pH balance”. At only €8.70 a bottle from your local chemist for this oil based cleanser, it’s hardly going to break the bank, and the fact that it was voted one of In Style’s “Top Beauty Products of 2006” and has found its place in Allure’s “Hall of Fame” only adds to its desirability!

A somewhat surprising contender for our blemish banisher was nannies’ favourite Sudocream – with strong antiseptic properties. it was frequently quoted as the best way to

get rid of spots, with toothpaste and aftershave also mentioned. My own preferred method when I feel a spot coming on is a bit of tea tree water on it straight away and then a Lush face-mask. For irritated spots I’ve found “Catastrophe Cosmetic” to be the best and for those spots that you can feel coming up, “Cosmetic Warrior” has proved to be my saviour, both of which are under €10. I’ve found that if it’s dealt with straight away, you can avoid getting that spot at all and, for the love of god, don’t pick at it, you’ll only end up scarring yourself! One last thing on the subject of skincare is, invest in it. You only have one face, it’s the first thing everyone sees and the only thing that everyone sees all day, everyday.

When it came to beauty and make-up products, the same names came up over and over again with rave reviews. One of the most popular products seemed to be Clarins “Beauty Flash Balm” (€34), which gives an illuminating glow to the skin and was a lovely base for make-up. Following hot on its tails is old favourite, Elizabeth Arden’s “8-hour cream”.A firm favourite with many celebrity devotees, this has been described as “the product with a thousand uses” and can be used as an overnight treatment for dry facial skin, a lip gloss, a treatment for any dry or rough skin on the body (heels, elbows and knees), dry and split ends and eczema. At €26.50 for a 50ml bottle, it is a bit pricey, but to be honest, I think I’m a little too intrigued by the hype to stop myself!

For foundation Mac’s “studio fix” (€31) ranked the highest for its amazing ability to cover all those spots or blemishes.

However, Mac’s makeup artist Joseph Vera recommended Mac’s face and body foundation himself (€36), as it is easy to wear a light coat during the day and then build up for better coverage and more of a “night look”.On the more inexpensive side of things, Maybelline is always a popular range and Rimmel’s “Recovery” foundation (€8.95) was quoted frequently and seemed to be in most students’ makeup bag, with students saying it gave a nice glow to the skin.

When it came to cheeks, there were three products named more than any other. Benefit “Highbeam” (€24) which gives the cheeks a beautiful glow or highlights the cheekbones was the one most frequently quoted. This was closely followed by Benefit “Benetint” (€36.50), which is a liquid blusher and can also be used as a lip colour. Both last almost forever! Nars “Orgasm” blusher was also mentioned quite a few times; it gives the cheeks a nice peachy colour and isused by J-Lo. Make-up wise, the top three mascaras were Yves Saint Laurent “faux lash” (€22), Dior’s “Diorshow” (€26) and the Mac “Pro lash” (€13). The YSL mascara was recommended by both experts and students alike, with one makeup artist, employed by a competing company, singing its praises.

Those eye shadows brands favoured most by students were Benefit and especially Mac, due to its durability. The most popular eye shadow made by Mac, which can be used by everyone as a base, is the pearly white colour “Shroom”.At €15 it’s great value and does last a long time. A few make-up artists themselves, along with recommending Mac, also recommended Stila’s eye shadows. Costing €19 each, they are that bit more expensive, however, you can buy a pan of your choice of four eye shadows for €71, making a saving of €4, and then in future only buy refills for €14, which is that bit more cost-effective in the long run.

Real make-up aficionados will adore the true investment of primers, and once again, it was Mac that was cited as most loved. The primer under my shadow made it last all night (and well into the next morning), without wearing off or even smudging. The lip primer not only helps your colour last, but also smoothes out the creases in the lips and is great for those smokers and lipstick wearers among us to prevent our lips looking cracked and dry. The lash primer gives that “false lash” effect and thickens the lashes, making them look that little bit longer and more impressive. That extra layer on the lashes may make it that little bit harder to remove, however, makeup artist Joseph Vera again recommended the Mac “eye and lip remover”, saying that he had never come across a better makeup remover, that every trace of makeup is easily removed by this oil and water based cleanser.

P11FASHION

When

Words: Ciarán Durkan

Ciarán

met

Ciarán

N

ot many people may have heard of Irish Fashion designer Ciarán Sweeney, yet this designer has made quite a name for himself in recent years. Named the leading light in Irish fashion by British Vogue a decade ago, his career has flourished ever since. Last year saw the opening of his own store in Dublin's CHQ, which showcases his entire collection catering for both men and women, as well as some interior pieces, jewellery and paintings. Sweeney shows abroad as often as possible; he has exhibited in the United States, UK, France, Italy, Spain and most recently in Russia. February 2006 saw Sweeney represent Ireland in a unique international exhibition entitled “Men in Skirts” in Madrid, where he exhibited alongside such fashion giants as Jean Paul Gautier, John Galliano and Vivienne Westwood. Last year, Sweeney had a one man show in The State Museum of Architecture beside the Kremlin in Moscow.

He classifies his Russian experience as “once in a lifetime stuff”. His client list reads like the list for a Hollywood soiree, with stars including Madonna, George Michael, and Elton John, as well as many important Irish figures, such as President McAleese, The Corrs and Moya Brennan.

His work has been described as highly labour intensive, an almost ancient method as he draws, dyes, prints and handpaints the finished pieces in his Dublin studio. As one of the most prominent young fashion designers in Ireland today, it may be surprising to hear that although Sweeney went to art college, he did not study fashion design there, instead he studied art and design education majoring in printed textiles. He says it was the only way to convince his parents that going to National College of Art in Dublin would give him a real career. While there he “got a bit fixated with fashion” and started to make garments from his printed textiles. Sweeney says as a youth he was often driven to prove he could do something and he was inspired by the fact that he was not considered a fashion student to venture further into the world of fashion de-

sign. In 1994, one year after his graduation, his one-man show “the Drowning of Ophelia” received rave reviews.

Sweeney describes his designs as being about storytelling through touch, colour and print. His inspiration is drawn from a variety of sources: architecture, people, smells, tastes, a place, a colour, a person.“The places I visit have a huge effect on me and I love discovering them”, he explains, “when I travel, I prefer to stay with someone from the city I'm in, hotels are for honeymoons”. When designing, Sweeney says “I sort of work backwards” visualising the object in its function at the end, the out come and goes from there.

Although one might expect it to be difficult for someone without the benefits of a fashion degree and the usual ( and more often than not belittling) stages of apprenticeship which are required to climb the ladder of the fashion world, Sweeney seems to have bypassed all that, and launched his own career independently. Perhaps this is for the best, because although he says that he would never rule out working for a major fashion house, such as Versace, due to their emphasis on print, he's not really very good at being told what to do creatively.

Although when asked about the fashion world in general he described it as “bitchy, selfish, cutthroat, desperate, gorgeous, (and) fake”, he says that there are some great things happening in Ireland at the moment and more to come. His favourite designers are Alexander McQueen for cut and John Galliano for visual spoiling, so it must have been quite a privileged for him to have shown side by side these two in the “Men in Skirts” exhibition in Madrid last year. Sweeney is one of few fashion designers who design for men and women and says he likes designing for both. And speaking of men, when asked

about his opinion of men’s fashion in Ireland. he replied “ a lot better than 10 years ago, braver definitely, ...I have noticed the men are hotter too.” Haven't we all.

His commissions both private and corporate are a testament to the talent and beauty of his creations. He says his work is not targeted at a specific market, age or type of person, but rather to be cherished by whoever is attracted to it.

Perhaps this attention to detail and fine craftsmanship in his work is what has attracted such extremely famous clients. “I love what I do and I've worked with some of the most talented people on the planet, that’s when I'm in my element, working with another creative.” Sweeney says that it is possible to get very close to someone when you are working with their body and their image of themselves. Although some of the his favourite clients have been Brenda Blethyn and Moya Brennan, who he describes as “unique women...who are top of their game”, its nice to know that he has not let it all go to his head as he says he also loves working with the “woman or man off the street who come in to see me.”

BOOKSP12 The War Against Cliché

United States: Essays 1952-1992

Why I Am Not a Christian

Author: Martin Amis

Author: Gore Vidal

Author: Bertrand Russell

Price: €12.20 528pp

Price: €24.30 1298pp.

Price: €15.20 256pp.

Publisher: Vintage

Publisher: Abacus

Publisher: Routledge

Amis’ essays give the impression of a man at daggers drawn. Though the range of topics he muses upon is broad (football, Austen, even a sustained treatment of Jurassic Park), nothing escapes the ferocity of his scathing pen. He is, at his best, lampooning public figures, from his hyper-masculine, “reactionary from the cradle” Maggie Thatcher, who clawed her way up from the “impossible glamour of the Ministry for Pensions” to an impossibly PC Hilary Clinton, whose book It Takes a Village, Amis scours for sentences like: “In addition to being read to”,Clinton sensibly notes, “children love to be told stories”. Deserves a place on any bookshelf.

United States brings together all Vidal’s major essays from the second half of the twentieth century. Whether he’s discussing pornography or Plato, Henry James or Henry Ford, Vidal’s style is an exercise in patient, unhurried meditation. Essays are collected under one of three headings: “State of the Art” collects Vidal’s reflections on art and literature; “State of the Union”, his thoughts on American politics and “State of Being” brings together memories “of an earlier self”, reading more like a Who’s Who of the twentieth century than a exercise in recapturing lost youth.

Quite possibly the twentieth century’s most famous atheist, Bertrand Russell’s Why I Am Not A Christian collects fifteen of the author’s essays on “Religion and Related Subjects”, including the resoundingly wicked title-essay in which Russell declares (somewhat tamely by modern standards) that “the Christian religion, as organised in its churches, has been and still is, the principle enemy of moral progress in the world”.The first port of call for any doubting Thomas.

American Letters Paul Earlie reviews the life of one of America’s most prolific and controversial man of letters.

G

ore Vidal has been happily nipping at the flanks of American social problems for the last five or six decades.

In between elegant denouncements of America’s “blood for oil” foreign policy and impassioned pleas for the legalisation of drugs (for example), Vidal has seen time to pen some 24 novels, eight plays for stage and television, seven full-length screenplays (including the raunchy, Penthouse-sponsored Caligula) and a much-lauded memoir, 1995’s Palimpsest. Recently published in paperback, Point to Point Navigation is Palimpsest’s slimmer, yet nonetheless elegant, concluding volume, containing everything we’ve come to expect from the Grand Old Man of American Letters: Wildean wit, a refined yet conversational style, and of course, Vidal’s trademark narcissism.

One could be forgiven for supposing that Vidal’s narcissism stems from the fact that for the greater part of

the twentieth century, Vidal was seldom out of the public eye and like all public intellectuals, he has accumulated a devoted posse of detractors. Vidal’s sometimes over-weaning pride and sense of self-purpose, however, are attributes which, for better or for worse, he has shamelessly fostered since the publication of his first novel. “Contrary to legend”, he writes in the book’s opening chapters, “I was born of mortal woman, and if Zeus sired me, there is no record on file in the Cadet Hospital at the U.S. Military Academy, West Point”.

One entire chapter is constituted entirely by a single quotation from Dennis Altman’s book, Gore Vidal’s America, one of the first sustained explorations of Vidal’s considerable and variegated corpus. Vidal is an adept at self-promotion and it’s clear his death will rob us of the best advocates of his own work we have ever had - and are ever likely to have.

Curiously for a memoirist so devoted to cultivating his own reputation, Point to Point offers us

(aside from a touching account of the death of Vidal’s partner of fifty-three years, Howard Auster) almost nothing in the way of illumination of his own character. Instead Vidal saves his ink for the constellation of stars which have always studded his long and distinguished career (Paul Newman, Princess Margaret, Amelia Earhart, Bette Davis - the list is surprisingly endless). Yet his memoirs are not peopled with “people” in the conventional sense: his method tends towards caricature, even the grotesque, as he pulls real-life acquaintances out of shape in order to remould them as the unwitting agents of his razor-edge wit.

The results speak for themselves.

Vidal’s mother, who, he notes sadly, never baked a cake in her life, becomes the monstrous socialite capable of drinking, “in the course of a lifetime, the equivalent of the Chesapeake Bay in vodka”.At a dinner party given by Vidal and his partner, Greta Garbo asks for the “little boy’s room” and then promptly leaves the toilet seat up. After

years as a novelist, playwright and essayist, Vidal’s greatest form remains the anecdote, as he heaps one amusing tale after another on the unsuspecting reader, each one as precious, pithy and snigger-inducing as the last.

Unfortunately Point to Point finishes badly on the dismount, as the book’s penultimate chapter is given over entirely to unravelling the JFK conspiracy (“Hence”, Vidal breathlessly finishes, “the use of Oswald as patsy and his murder by a fellow CIA agent”). The final chapter is little better, dominated by a quotation from Pope’s Dunciad: The hand, great Anarch, lets the curtain fall, And universal darkness buries all Inexplicable, really, for a chatty, scoresettling memoir of the twentieth century and a life so devoted to bettering its lot.

Point to Point Navigation is available on paperback from Abacus, priced €11.99.

P13BOOKS

R

p

especially reading through the first few chapters of this book I started thinking very clearly about what my principles really are and realised just how many excuses I make to myself every day.

I personally found the first

P n i l a a t

Michael Norton’s The Everyday Activist is a step-by-step guide to saving the world. Hana Chelache learns how to “Get Off Your Ass and Make a Difference” well as its strong moral message, is its incredible sense of optimism. Its opening pages really grab you with genuinely thoughtprovoking quotes and the stories of people who’ve made a huge difference.

All your sense of being defeated before you start just goes away. I found that,

than others, like making a point of only buying fair-trade gifts, planting trees and not wasting excess water. I found the later chapters more difficult to deal with because after changing your lifestyle, Michael Norton wants you to get out there and change the world. His methods for changing the world, again, are pretty accessible. He basically wants you to identify an issue that concerns you, think about what solutions you can bring to the problem and then do everything in your power to go make a change happen. Again, he does a brilliant job explaining what you have to do as simply as possible. He’s also very encouraging. He sees the ultimate potential in each of his readers and expects us not to disappoint him.

These chapters were just as good, perhaps even better than the earlier ones, but I also began to lose some of the optimism I gained in the earlier chapters when I realised just how high his standards were.

For Michael Norton it isn’t enough for us to be concerned about a particular issue, he wants us to set up an international global organisation to eradicate this problem (that, I’m not exaggerating).

The fact that the majority of the people who read this book won’t make an overwhelming difference to the world isn’t Norton’s problem; he gives us all the information and help we need to make that dream a reality.

It’s our problem because most of us can’t be bothered. Believe me, I want the world to change, but I want someone else to do it. If you want to be the person who is going to change the world, then this is the perfect book for you. As for me, I hope this book is going to change me for the better, but I’m still worried that I’m going to turn my head again the next time someone asks me for some spare change.

The Everyday Activist is available on paperback from Boxtree, priced €15.20.

t

Ca

Against the softly, softly approach being taken at the moment by the wider media on global issues where personal responsibility is rarely pushed, I find Norton’s unapologetic stance extremely welcome.

The best thing about this book, as

ne

eading this book was a bit of a slap in the face for me. For a while, I’ve been feeling quite apathetic about the state of the world.

Probably like a lot of people reading this review, I’d say I’m concerned about all the issues addressed in this book, such as global poverty, climate change, homelessness and anti-social behaviour.

But like most of us, I tend to be the type of person who turns my head when I see homeless people in the street and will try not to think about the sweatshop conditions my clothes were made in when I buy them. The only positive thing I’m doing at the moment is to replace my one-hour flights home to the south east of England with a ninehour journey via a nine-hour rail and ferry trip (yes, it’s torture, but its not easy being green).

Anyway, despite being able to pat myself on the back about that one, my general state of ignoring all the problems of the world, most of which I’m a direct contributor to in my lifestyle, has been gradually wearing me down.

Deep down I’m coming to realise that saying “that’s terrible” is not an adequate response.

In actual fact, ignoring the problems in the world is making me pretty miserable.

If all this sounds familiar (and I’m sure it does), then the British social activist and all-around good guy Michael Norton wants you. His book The Everyday Activist is a sort of self-help guide in a similar vein to books that want you to eat a healthier diet or solve your relationship problems. The simple format is probably one of the book’s strongest points, giving you straightforward, direct information about what’s wrong with the world and what we can do to put it to right. While reading this book might be effortless, Norton, like all good gurus, isn’t going to give us an easy ride.

He wants people to recognise how they contribute towards the problems of the world and then change their ways.

section of the book easier to respond to than the last few chapters.

Earlier on, Norton points out the problems facing the world today and advises you on how you can change your lifestyle to help solve them. Some of them are slightly more easily do-able

THEATREP14

Highlights from the Debut Festival O What a Lovely War Reviewed by Polly Graham

Dan Herd’s production of O What a Lovely War was a great success. First produced in 1963 devised by Joan Littlewood’s radical company the Theatre Workshop, this piece immediately entered the canon as one of the most powerful theatrical comments on the tragedy of the First World War. Songs from the trenches are combined with songs from the home front; all performed, and this is perhaps the play’s essential conceit, by Pierrot (the ordinary serving man from the Commedia del Arte) clowns, introduced and framed by a ringmaster figure. Meanwhile an upstage screen subverts the mood of the music hall by projecting disturbing images and statistics about the four-year conflict. It has been recognized as a deeply effective conceit and it is to the director’s credit that he chose this project for a “Director’s Option”; because the play convinces us itself of its anti-war argument, the demands which the director faces relate to the performers themselves. Dan Herd showed great command of his ensemble, as well as the more intimate scenes and exchanges in the piece. I was especially moved by the “Stille Nacht” episode, and the exceptional voice that sang, hauntingly offstage, from the German trenches. The framing narrative provided by the Master of Ceremonies, Dave McEntegart was boldly directed and performed. When the focus shifted away from the ghostly ringmaster he sat in his dressing room downstage right and his face was reflected to us in a mirror. The performance ended with a beautiful, metaleptical demasking; the Master of Ceremonies taking off his moustache and make up, staring at himself in the mirror and poignantly announcing to us in a silence perhaps more powerful than words, the artificiality of the theatre of course, but also that we had just witnessed the story of ourselves, on stage – everyman.

Antigone

Reviewed by Aoife Griffin

By Jean Anouilh, translated by Louis Galantiere and brought to the Beckett theatre by Liz Bragg. What I found effective in this piece was that the overture began in the foyer and everyone was already in position when the audience entered, setting the tone of actions already in motion. The presentation of the chorus, played singularly by Lucy N Moylan was emotive and evocative, adumbrating the urgency that dominates the rest of the play.

Anoulih's Antigone is a play that deals with the complex ideas of revenge, justice, and body politic versus the body natural. It brings out ideas on kinship and family ties and nowhere as poignantly as between the arresting dialogue between Creon (Davey Kelleher) and our eponymous Antigone (Emma Meehan). The entire scene was shot through with palpable rage and confusion, contempt and arrogance and was impressively blocked using very simple, natural movements which kept the audience fixated throughout The play was slow to begin, with hesitant performances by some of the supporting cast but quickly gathered momentum as the deed is done and the difficult decisions made, with the final scene between Creon and Chorus ending the play powerfully.

Overall both plays stand as testament to the quality that is expected and exceeded by the festival which continues to grow in popularity every year.

Exit the King Reviewed by Aoife Griffin

Exit the King is an absurdist work written by Eugene Ionesco, translated by Donald Watson and brought to the Samuel Beckett stage by our own Zoe Ní Riordáin. The stage was constructed as the audience entered, nicely reflecting the idea of human constructions of time and space that dominate the play. At the same time the overture was eerie and uneasy, leaving the audience with the feeling of having forgotten something very important, effectively setting the tone of the rest of the play which deals with the ideas of rhetoric, self and consciousness.. The cast was well-chosen and the stage space properly utilised while the props themselves proved interesting and well-made, the clock being my especial favourite. The play further interrogates concepts of power, the body and love, while Queen Marguerite's exclamation of 'you're going to die at the end of this show!' challenges the concept of traditional theatre. Marie Boylan, as Queen Marguerite, really comes into her own in the final scene of the play, thoroughly engaging the audience with her narrative authority ('he thinks his existence is all existence!') The timing of her lines with the music proved simultaneously expectant and palliative. The lighting, at times slightly overwhelming, really comes into its own when we watched the king's final ascension to the throne through his shadow on the wall.

Though the turning of chair at end a bit clumsy the falling of the crown proved a nice touch

P15THEATRE

Disjecta a Samuel Beckett laboratory Words : Karina Jakubowicz

D

isjecta - A Samuel Beckett laboratory began the way that most Beckett productions are inclined to do; with a very dark preset. As I sat in the midst of the gloom I couldn't help but notice that the man sitting to my left looked rather familiar.

He was an older man, with a nice hat, and an attractive wooden walking stick.

But before I could attempt a conversation, a mouth had suddenly appeared about twenty feet above the stage. It would seem that the play had begun, and it was time to abandon all sense of reality. This particular disjecta was comprised of four parts, the first (concerning the flying mouth) was of course the infamous Not I. Everyone has a string vision of how Not I is meant to be done, and though my admiration always goes out to any performer of this piece, I couldn't help but be critical of this one.

I felt that the delivery was far too quick, the emphasis rather prosaic, and the lack of rhythm almost irritating. The second piece (adapted from an abandoned work) was a great improvement. Despite the fact that Nick Johnson had a rather shaky English accent to begin with, he managed to bring out the eclectic, quirky humour of Beckett's work in a seemingly effortless way.

By the end of the first act I am pleased with what I've seen, but still distracted by the older man to my left. My attempts to accost him subsequently fail and he escapes.

The First part of the Second act was a rendering of Beckett's short story Dante and the Lobster, which to my mind has never been done on stage before. I have to say that Beckett really

comes alive in these lesser-performed pieces, since they are freer of definitive interpretation. The final part was a performance of Ghost Trio, which involved two white screens placed either side of Nick Johnson, who lies on the floor between them. A film was then projected onto the screens whilst the audience watched with bated breath. It showed Nick in an empty white room, clothed in what appeared to be a grey dress worn over trousers, bent over in a sitting position, and clutching an ipod. Every so often the Nick in the film would get up, open the door and close it again, whilst the real Nick lay inanimate for the duration. It could have been amusing, even hilarious, but nobody was laughing. This for me is Beckett in a nutshell, - when the hilarity of life becomes too mesmerizing to laugh at. Nick had it nailed, my hat goes off to him. To make matters even better, the man sitting next to me turned out to be none other than Barry McGovern (Samuel Beckett's original Vladimir from Waiting For Godot).

After fighting my initial reaction (which was to scream with glee and then wrestle the poor man to the floor) we finally got talking. McGovern seemed to find the performance interesting, stating that he liked the Ghost Trio best of all. He then continued to tell me that the latter part of the first act (From an Abandoned Work) was first published in the Trinity News, but that Beckett was rather upset about it. It would seem that the Trinity editorial staff had made the creative decision to 'correct' his post-modern punctuation without consulting the author first. Needless to say, I left feeling thoroughly saturated with the absurdity of life. What more could you ask for from a

ARTP16 Once upon a time in a land far away, "art" and the art world was commonly perceived (and rightly so) and propagated as being a bit la-didah. Alas the once impenetrable, steadfast veneer of snobbery that enveloped the sacred concept of “art” has been, well, cracked. The distinction between high and low art is no more. Art is no longer for the select, the elite, the “learned” connoisseur nor even simply art for art’s sake; art is now for, and dependant on, the people. It’s as blatant as a moustache on the Mona Lisa – the art of today is about tangible, concrete and material human interaction. Art meets entertainment in the aesthetic battle of the 21st century.

Encountering a work of art is no longer based on just looking at a canvas or walking around a piece of sculpture, it has transcended the concept of looking into a w o r l d that is not our own.

Art now physically enters our

world and our space. Our interaction is conditioned by our time, making our interpretation completely subjective. Deep, I know.

Now apply this theory/observation to Colombian-born Doris Salcedo's Shibboleth now on exhibit in the Tate Modern. The raw power of the giant crack, snaking and splintering its way through the floor of the Turbine Hall, lies in how we, the visitor, have to trace its beginning as a hair-line crack, walk along it as it gradually grows, look down into the recesses of the schism and are then forced into considering its meaning. It is a colossal 167 metres long and actually just looks like a huge split frantically zig-zagging through the museum floor. However, the realisation does gradually dawn that it is in fact a solid construction of a social truth. The crack is the artistic and conceptual representation of the history of colonialism and the phenomenon of racism. The symbolism of the actual floor dividing encourages the viewer to assert the nature of colonialism, and indeed of illegal immigration, as a fact of our own time. Such a giant rift appearing in the middle of a building’s “solid” foundations is indicative of two worlds pulling apart, revealing a hollow type of no man’s land hovering in the middle.

The fact that we actually end up standing on either side of the gap takes this truthful and representational

Moral art or is the Tate just cracked? art to a whole new level.

We are, in reality, living through an age where people move or are forced to relocate and seem to get lost and disappear over borders. Shibboleth is an attempt at embodying this - people literally disappearing into the unknown, into the abyss. Though colloquially known as “the Crack” grasping a proper understanding of the work’s name – Shibboleth – can open your eyes to how this piece can be interpreted. “Shibboleth” refers to an Old Testament story in which the word itself acted as a type of password that only the peoples of the Gileadites could pronounce accurately and therefore used it as a mode of testing on the Ephraimites as they tried to cross the river Jordon. If they couldn't, they were captured and executed.

Apparently it's something to do with the pronunciation of the "sh". Now throwing off the biblical shackles attached to the name as a conceptual art piece, the choice of name is fitting as it is symptomatic of the various tools of “acceptance” used by an enemy, an oppressor or even a dominant power.

We, the viewer, belong to the piece, it does not work unless we actually engage with it and relate it to ourselves and the

events that shape our lives. We must internally battle why we have ended up on one side of the crack or the other. We are encouraged to ask why there are those who have been lost to the middle and how, or can we, even mend the divide? Salcedo challenges and reforms the conventions of today's art by inviting viewer participation like never before. She asks us to succumb to the pretension that art can be a moral entity. This is significant as the piece will remain even once the exhibition is over, only it will be filled in, leaving a scar disfiguring the room forever as a constant

r e m i n d e r.

Such a delicate and difficult, though unavoidable, political, social and, of course, cultural aberration is condensed down to an easily accessible and essentially genius art form – earth being cracked open revealing a nothingness below.

The issue is quite plainly laid at our feet.

However, there have been some farcical reports of people actually falling into the crack….Maybe someone should ask the Tube lady to come and announce “please mind the gap” at various points of the piece?

P17ART

Anti-War slogan wins infamous Turner Prize Words: Rebecca Long

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his year, artist Mark Wallinger's work State Britain won him the prestigious Turner Prize award. The exhibit is a reproduction or, rather, representation of activist Brian Haw's 40m long protest against the British government's polices on Iraq, which accumulated outside Westminster during a period which began in 2001. It was commissioned by Tate Britain and kept a strict secret until its unveiling last January. Haw's original protest display consisted of and was defined by contributions from the public, which included placards bearing anti-war slogans, posters, teddies and drawings. It was dismantled by police following the enactment of the Serious Organised Crime and Police Act 2005, in an act which resonated throughout British society. The original display symbolised ideas of free speech and entitlement to human rights: so the question is, is Wallinger's work a mere reproduction of a piece of political graffiti or does it symbolise something all on its own?

The Serious Organised Crime and Police Act placed a restriction zone of 1km around Parliament Square for unauthorised demonstrations and Wallinger, choosing to take this literally, divided the exhibit in two with a large black line which runs through most of the Tate. So in effect, though the concept has its detractors, one half of State Britain is operating in an illegal space.

Wallinger was the favourite to win the 2007 Turner Prize on the basis of this work and the idea that Haw's original and, now illegal, protest can be recreated and explored through art is indeed a powerful one. Through his reproduction Wallinger explores the controversial status of human right and social liberties

in society today by essentially continuing what Haw began in 2001. The Tate Britain website warns us that this display contains images of human suffering that some visitors may find disturbing. The 600 posters, slogans and flags that make up the exhibit include images of children that have been described as unrecognizable and obscene; these help to articulate the idea that the themes and concepts raised by Wallinger in State Britain cannot, in a sense, be contained by what he has made, just as the spirit of the original protest could not be removed from Westminster's eyeline. In an interview he described the original demonstration as “parliament's guilty conscience or a mirror held up to them that no one paid close enough attention to - they didn't want to see how ugly they really were.”

So one has to ask to whom Wallinger is showing this mirror. Is it to the government alone or to society in general?

Wallinger's first Turner Prize nomination came thanks to his 1994 work A Real Work Of Art. This, ironically enough, wasn't a work of art at all, but a real live racehorse which Wallinger had bought and named “A Real Work Of Art”. By entering it into races and, therefore, into bookmakers' computers around the country it was supposed to be a further interpretation of Marcel Duchamp's ready-mades concept. However, the horse's career was short-lived - it only ran one race before injury forced it to retire. Some would say that's a comment on contemporary art right there.

Wallinger's early work often focused on issues such as monarchy, class and nationalism, on issues of belonging and was noted for its element of social commentary. His primary

Mark Wallinger, winner of his year’s Turner Prize for his piece State Britain.

Photo: Charlie Hopkinson

concern has been to promote an avenue of exploration of the “politics of representation and the representation of politics”, focusing on the idea of individual and social responsibility and where these two intersect. His sculpture of the figure of Christ being presented to Pontius Pilate with his hands bound behind his back, Ecce Homo, was the first piece to be placed on the empty Fourth Plinth in Trafalgar Square. It was the only life-sized sculpture in the square, all the others being huge and imposing and representing the idea of might and empire. This figure of Christ was placed at the edge of the massive plinth to accentuate its vulnerablility and humanity. It could be interpreted to encompass two of Wallinger's themes: what it means to be English and the concept of belief within structured systems. Works such as On An Operating

ART

EVENTS

BULLS ON PARADE AND THE FONTANELS- Fundraiser for Trinity Arts week. Thursday January 17th, The Hub, Temple Bar, Doors open 8pm Tickets on sale in the Arts Block E6 or at the door E8 A LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS: The Turner Watercolours including the Mary A. McNeill, “Bequest of Silhouettes and Miniatures”. 1 - 31 January 2008.

MIROSLAW BALKA:Tristes TropiquesIrish Museum of Modern Art, 26 sculptures and installations by the leading Polish artist. 10 October- 17 March.

Table (1998), Prometheus (1999) and The Word In The Desert I (2000) use quotes from Shakespeare and religious texts to further explore these themes.

Every year, the Turner Prize and its recipient generate much media coverage, much controversy and much discussion. Every year, people say that the Prize makes no sense, that it has become a mere sensation, playing on the already controversial nature of the art it promotes. Every year, there's a winner and people either agree or disagree.

Wallinger has said that the sculptures he creates and indeed the art form in general is about “teaching people to look a bit more closely”. The same perhaps could be said of the perpetually scandalous Turner Prize: Wallinger's exhibit this year certainly invited people to look closer.

GORMLEY’S ANNIVERSARY EXHIBITION: variety of works by acclaimed artists at Gormley’s Gallery.

17 January- 7 February.

WALKING DOWN O’CONNELL STREET: Public pen air exhibition of four “walking” elemental sculptures by Julian Opie on O’Connell Street, sponsored by the Hugh Lane Gallery.

20 Janurary-8 November.

THE CANVASES PROJECT EXHIBITION: exhibition of artists’, amateurs’ and non-artists’ works at Cornucopia Restaurant, Wicklow Street Runs until 1 February

EDIBLESP18

“Daddy, I forgot to go to Tesco this week...”

(Or knowing just where to eat when your parents are paying.)

Words: Beth Armstrong Roly’s Bistro 7 Ballsbridge Terrace, Ballsbridge, Dublin 4 Tel: 01 668 2611

Restaurant Patrick Guilbaud Merrion Hotel, 21 Upper Merrion Street Dublin 2 Tel: 01 676 4192

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estaurants have been reviewed using a star system for many years, but Patrick Guilbaud has two of the most highly sought after stars in the Restaurant business - Michelins.

Awarded an incredible two stars and with a host of other awards, if you want a real treat, Patrick Guilbaud is the best Dublin has to offer. True to form, being the best restaurant to eat in the city, it is on the (extremely) pricey side. Starters such as foie gras or Dublin bay prawns

are on average 40 euros, with main courses tipping the scales at 56 euros for Turbot with desserts around the twnety euros mark. However, a well-kept secret is the Patrick Guilbaud set lunch. With two courses for 38 euros and three for 50 euros (not including wine), this cheaper alternative means you can enjoy a world-class menu and incredible service at a fraction of the cost of an a la carte dinner. Definitely a place to try!

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oly’s in Ballsbridge is one of Dublin’s best-known restaurants. Describing itself as a bistro, it serves delicious food using the best of Irish ingredients. On offer is a scrumptious menu with highlights including deep fried fish and chips in beer batter and pan fried Dublin bay prawns with garlic, chilli and ginger butter and wild rice. Their home-baked bread is to die for… get a basket or two.

The a la carte evening menu prices range around ten euros for a starter and

upwards to thirty for a main course with a set menu at 42 euros for three courses.

Akin to Fitzers, it offers an early bird, or “pre-theatre” menu at a reasonable 23 euros for two courses and 26 euros for three. The lunch menu is also very competitive, with the set menu pricing 21 euros and the house wine is twenty euros. A glass of champagne is as reasonable as Dublin gets (under nine euros) so if your parents are in a celebratory mood, Roly’s is the place to go!

Shanahan’s on the Green

offer along with delicious side orders such as crispy fried onion strings and creamed sweet corn, costing 9.50 euros each. With a menu like this, you expect the waiters to have southern drawls.

Almost as good as the menu are the historical artefacts on display in the Oval Office bar. However, as you can probably guess, the excellence of Shanahan’s comes with a price.

Generally regarded as serving the most expensive steak in Dublin, the food does not come cheap, with steaks averaging at 50 euros and other main course options around 40 euros. Eat with caution!

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19 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2.

Tel: 01 407 0939

his American style steakhouse is at the top scale of the market.

With a varied menu (featuring seafood and other meats, apart from its famous steak), Shanahan’s is old-school America personified. This is Deep South wood panelled, old world charm. The menu combines fresh Irish seafood with choice cuts of certified Irish Angus beef.

Fillets, sirloins and rib-eyes are all on

P19EDIBLES

Detoxify your life

C

hristmas, New Years and the copious parties which fall during the festive period have now come to an

end. Despite the fun of rounding off 2007, hidden in the delicious food and drinks of the Christmas season were calories which have resulted in a few of us feeling full and vowing to cut back on junk in January. The usual list of New Year’s resolutions starts with a vow to lose weight, however, there is a way to get rid of that bloated feeling without having to work out complicated calorie sums in you head or decide if it’s carbs that are out and the maple syrup diet in. Detoxing over a period time, from three days to two weeks, can remove toxins from your partied-out body, leave you feeling light and lean once more.

The aim of detoxing is to encourage your body to rid itself of chemicals and toxic by-products alleged to accumulate in the tissues as a consequence of stress, poor dietary habits, pollution, cigarettes, drugs, alcohol, too many late nights and lack of exercise. Detoxing is said by nutritional therapists to help boost the body's natural self-cleansing mechanisms, reducing strain on the digestive system and strengthening organs such as the kidneys, the skin, the liver, the lungs and the lymphatic system. The process promises to deliver more energy, clearer skin, improved

Eating 101 Words: David Kearney The North inner city is not particularly notorious for the quality of its eating establishments. However, for years, 101 Talbot has been quietly earning a stellar reputation for good food in a dingy part of the city more famous for its vast selection of discount retailers and pound shops. Hidden upstairs between two apparel outfitters, number 101 does not give a much of a first impression. But if you are brave enough to chance the stairs, the culinary gem that awaits you will

sleep, greater mental clarity (always good!) and a more efficient immune system, as well as helping you lose weight.

Detoxing is the buzz word of the minute, and although many celebs head off to week long spas on tropical islands with a chef at hand to prepare delicious but detoxifying meals, there is a way to do it at home. Morgan Spurlock attempted to live only on McDonalds during the making of his movie Super Size Me and as a way to recover after inhaling as many burgers as he possibly could, his girlfriend Alex Jamieson introduced him to detoxing. She has now used her know-how to produce a book The Great American Detox Diet.

During a detox programme, the plan is to remove from your diet ingredients that result in toxins being built up in your body. The most common ingredients in the standard western diet that are causing health woes are caffeine, refined sugars, refined carbs, artificial sweeteners and food additives. As such, when detoxing it is best to avoid wheat, meat, dairy, salt, alcohol, caffeine and sugar. That sounds like everything, but the plan is to keep to a diet consisting of mainly fruit and vegetables for the amount of time you have decided to detox, be it for only for a few days, or at

allay any fears you may have had. The décor is informal yet stylish in an understated way. Paintings by local Dublin artists adorn the walls in a constantly changing exhibition. Rustic tables are arranged around an awkward sunken central area and the whole place has a comforting worn-out feeling. The front of house staff proved to be remarkably efficient, and seated us at a window seat where a fresh jug of water complete with mint leaf was waiting. A generous helping of fresh loaf was instantly brought over. The service continued to be just as attentive during the course of the evening.

The menu itself is concise but varied, with Middle Eastern and Mediterranean influences. There’s also a separate pasta selection and a good wine list. I had homemade hummus with crudités and pitta bread, which was a generous size but sadly lacking the kick of the chilli oil described in the menu. Despite this, it was an authentic and tasty entrée. Caramelised apple and celeriac salad with roast pecan nuts impressed my dining partner, but was far too sweet for my taste. As we were both hungry, it was a relief to see that main courses were promptly delivered and were again of a

Words: Beth Armstrong most two weeks. Jamieson comments that “Detoxing your diet can be simple, but you may need a few days to get into the groove. Start off by writing out a plan of what you're going to eat, go shopping beforehand and cook larger portions of healthy meals so that you can take leftovers for lunch.”

A common detox menu would be fruit for breakfast, a light soup for lunch (watch out for hidden added cream) and a salad for dinner. Many interesting recipes are available online, on sites such as http://www.energiseforlife.com/detoxrecipes.php On top of eating fruit and vegetables, two litres of water should be drunk each day with tea and coffee being replaced by herbal teas. If you are normally a caffeine addict, you may find yourself getting headaches as the toxins leave your body. Symptoms, however, will pass as your body adjusts and toxins are eliminated.

Although not, as Jameison puts it “quick-fix, fit into your bikini by the weekend plan”, detoxing for a shot period of time should leave you feeling in tip-top condition ready to start 2008 with a bang.

Alex Jamieson’s book The Great American Detox Diet, published by Rodale International Ltd is available now from all good bookstores.

good quality. I opted for the corn-fed chicken, which was stuffed with tomato and mozzarella. Quantities were just right and enhanced the delicious taste of the chicken. The chickpea cakes on the other side of the table were a little less successful, without the same richness of flavours, but with their own unique earthy taste. The spicy harrissa-style accompaniment livened proceedings up immensely however. Never one for dessert, I opted out, but chocolate mousse was devilishly black in colour, served in a dainty espresso cup, and apparently made up for its small size in the sheer intensity of its flavours.

The bill was surprisingly reasonable for food of this quality – 60 euros for two including alcohol. Staff were courteous and efficient and the whole evening flowed seamlessly – as eating out should. 101 Talbot provides high quality food in a less formal, more convivial environment, and it has a unique charm all of its own. Highly recommended. Reserve in advance.

101 Talbot Street, Dublin 1.

Tel: 874 5011

ENDNOTESP20

Temper, temper my In my social circle, I am know for yet outlandish ways and short temper on ting put y onl I’m if sometimes I feel as ple peo and a show for others. We go out s wait for me to do something hilariou and off the wall. I tire of being “that” guy. How can I change my image?

Yours, James Dear James, Why stop now? You’ve got a captive audience, why not up the ante?

Introduce some pyrotechnics, perhaps enlist some backing vocalists. Develop a franchise! In years to come, you’ll be able to live off the profits from t-shirt sales.

H T

Resolute Dear Mrs Fix-It, After many years of failed and tawdry New Year ’s resolutions, I turned back on th e idea.

However, I got so fed up with people asking what my resolution was this year that I told huge lie. I claimed that I was going m ake the most fool-proof resolution ever, bu t that I wouldn’t disclose wh at it was until 2008 .

Here’s the kicker, it’ s now mid-January and I haven’t thought of a resolution yet. An y ideas? Resolutely yours, Agatha.

Dear Agatha, I can’t promise to provide you with an accurate and fulfilling resolution because I don’t know you. Based on the information th at you have given me, however, I can surm ise that you’re lazy an d unwilling to follo w things through. Yo u’re not very imag inative nor are you witty.

You also appear to care very much about w hat people think of you.

You haven’t supplie d your age, but fro m what I can make ou t from your hand-w riting, you’re quite yo ung. Perhaps then, this year you should str ive to be less selfabsorbed, more selfl ess and a better pe rs on in general. Or just sa y that you’ve reso lved to give up New Year ’s Resolutions etc.e tc.etc.

It’s not as if anyone listens to them anyw ay.

Dear Mrs Fix-It, Does my bum look

big in this?

Yes.

Have you got problems of your own that need fixing?

Email Mrs Fixit at mrs.fixit@trinitynews.ie

xkcd.com

no.359

“A somewhat surprising contender for our blemish banisher was nannies’ favourite Sudocream.” FASHION P10

Mrs Fixit

Teen Stars: Hayden Panetierre (18 year old star of Heroes) dating her 30 year old co-star? Jamie Lynn Spears pregnant at 16? 2008, you’re being too good to us.

Cheques Finally Clearing: No more Bank Holidays mean that Christmas cheques are lighting up bank balances all over campus.

Leap Year: February 29th comes but once every four years, and how exciting it is!

Joe Dolan: A musical monolith, West Meath’s favourite son and a snappy dresser. R.I.P.

Dressing Appropriately: Coats ruin a perfectly good outfit. The novelty has worn off.

The New Year’s Resolutions of Others: Booooooooring.

N T