Shakespeare and Plan B - liminal artists and easy bedfellows?

Over the last couple of weeks I have been considering the role of artists (verbal, musical, theatrical, sculptural etc.) in society and specifically their ability to criticise politics.

Traditionally artists were kept on the edge of society, as travelling minstrels at Medieval courts or Elizabethan theatre players, or secluded artists, like Picasso, they formed micro-communities with their own social rules. They are citizens of their own countries but they are also uniquely placed to comment on society, as quasi-strangers in their own lands.

Throughout time the Arts have had this function, in Romeo and Juliet Shakespeare comments on Elizabethan social reform resound throughout Romeo and Juliet, where the Prince proclaims new rules and the protagonists fall foul of a system that cannot understand,  ‘What, ho! you men, you beasts/That quench the fire of your pernicious rage/ With purple fountains issuing from your veins’. In Hamlet Shakespeare similarly puts up a mirror to the Jacobean approach to monarchy (The King and the Playwright).The ability to critique contemporary government and society did not end with Shakespeare, at the Queen’s Jubilee arts evening Hockney said, ‘I don’t think we can quite rely on governments to see the bigger picture so we need the Arts’. Interesting that the Arts can say things that politicians or people in other contexts can’t.

The social commentary in Romeo and Juliet (when the men are brawling on the street) came to mind recently when I was listening to Plan B’s ‘ill Manors’. Music has long been the refuge for protest music; the Sex Pistols released the controversial  ‘God Save the Queen’ in the year of the Queen’s Silver Jubilee. Plan B uses his song to critique the current government’s policies impact on the poor to widespread acclaim. Showing the foolishness of Cameron’s hug a hoody, ‘He’s got a hoodie on give him a hug...on second thoughts you don’t want to get mugged’, the Olympics, how the poor can take advantage of the benefits system and accuses Boris of ‘rob(bing) them (Londoners) blind’. He can be quite clever with his wordplay, ‘We’ve got an eco-friendly government; they like to preserve our natural habitat’. His song can be summed up in his satirical play on the Conservative statement, ‘There’s no such thing as broken Britain, we’re all bloody broke in Britain’. These statements would be very weighty coming from the mouths of the protester but somehow from the mouth of a pop singer it encounters no such censorship. It has been played on all the major music channels and has been bought as a pop song by thousands, entering the UK charts at number 6. What is so special about the medium of song that makes that kind of commentary acceptable? (you can watch the video here)

Like Shakespeare, Plan B walks an interesting line here. Plan B samples Shostakovich’s Seventh Symphony, which just sounds like ‘classical music’, getting into bed with Conservative values, but the classical piece was created as a reaction to Nazi militarism, what does that suggest? Shakespeare counted the royals amongst his patrons but what does his generous portrayal of Henry VIII say to a Stuart court? And is Shakespeare’s Henry VI, part I an attempt to boost patriotism or a stern critique of it, just as England is fighting off the Spanish Armada?

What do you think the role of the ‘artist’ is in society? Do they even have a place? I’d be interested to know your thoughts.

North Rhine Westmania!

Wrote this piece for Doppelpunkt. Thought I'd share it with you guys.

I had some holiday to use at work so I decided to spend a week and a half in North Rhine Westphalia. Although I made brief forays into other countries; namely Holland and Belgium the main focus of the trip were three German cities, Düsseldorf, Aachen and Cologne.

I flew into Düsseldorf from London on a warm Monday evening. The airport felt really big but I think this was mainly because I couldn’t find my host. Once reunited with my friend the first exciting thing about my return to Germany was my first ride on a double-decker train. I imagine, if you live in Continental Europe, the thought of a train on two levels is not that unusual but in England they don’t exist; between that and the Sky Train I was quite enamoured of the German rail system.

Düsseldorf, like the airport, was bigger than I expected. I particularly enjoyed the old town, complete with Schneider Wibbel immortalised in music and metal, little town squares and gorgeous waterfronts. Their rich heritage in Persil and other soaps is celebrated in the town museum which boasts a large collection of artefacts and trilingual signs. The other wonderful part of Düsseldorf to visit is the harbour. Like much of the rest of Europe, the old industrial parts of the country have been salvaged through architectural innovation. The arty office blocks make for an interesting view but if nature is more your thing there is also a really nice Rhine walk in this area complete with little beaches. Like many German cities Düsseldorf’s public transport is comprehensive...but one word of warning, don’t trust the station names. Getting off the train at Düsseldorf Zoo Station will not lead you to Düsseldorf Zoo but an ice-rink, the zoo was destroyed in the Second World War.

Stroking Schneider’s Nose. Düsseldorf.

For the majority of my trip I was based in Aachen, staying at a backpackers hostel. I was taking a bit of a leap because usually I only stay in HI hostels; but I found the backpackers hostel to be much friendlier, more homely and, importantly for a girl on foot, more central than its competitor. Aachen is a great German city to visit; it has got impressive regional, national and international transport links. The old town has some lovely places to visit; Charlemagne’s Cathedral, a UNESCO site with an impressive treasury, the Town Hall, again Carolingian in origin and now featuring an impressive multi-sensory museum, and lots of pretty little streets with a surprising amount of remaining architecture for a city that was 80% blitzed. It is hard to verbalise my love for this city but one of the things I really like is how truly international it is; the last big city before the border with both Holland and Belgium it is not unusual to hear at least three different languages at once. Several of my shopping experiences have started in German and ended in English via French! This attitude is echoed in everything from the architecture to the food and the music that I’ve heard in Aachen. That and the ice cream from a little parlour called Del Negro is the best I’ve tasted outside of Italy; they’ve got loads of flavours, the portions are huge, the prices are small and they even let you do half and half!

Amazing Aachener Eis!

Finally I wanted to write a little about Cologne. It took me a while to visit Cologne because of the loyalty I felt to other parts of Westphalia. The rivalry runs so deep that to ask for Kölsch in an Altbier region is really quite offensive! But Cologne was lovely. The riverside at Cologne is much photographed and with good cause. A similar size to Düsseldorf but very aware of its historic context, where Aachen is built in circles, Düsseldorf builds in squares and lines. Nowhere is this more evident than in comparing the Cathedrals of both towns. Aachen circular and Carolingian, Cologne is tall, gothic and towered. The city museum showcased just how aware the people of Cologne were of their cities relevance. The town had, for a long time, been able to harness all the local resources, and become a powerful independent city. That power had been seized on occasion for good and for very bad uses but I felt the museum dealt with this subject gracefully. There was lots to do in Cologne even on a national holiday; I reckon I could have spent more days there and still not have been bored.

In sum then, I really enjoyed my return to West Germany; the challenge of communicating in foreign languages, walking through foreign climes and discovering new cities. I hope you will consider visiting North Rhine Westphalia and discover its charms for yourself.