Razia Iqbal | The Reporters

Herta who?

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 15:07:28 +0000

If you have not heard of Herta Mueller, the winner of this year's Nobel prize for literature, then you might feel that the Committee have done it again - pulling an obscure writer out of their large, literary hats. But Pete Ayrton, her UK publisher at Serpent's Tail, argues that that is precisely their role: To bring to our attention the work of neglected writers who are underappreciated in the Anglo Saxon world.

It is certainly true that there is always less interest in the Nobel Prize for Literature in this country unless a British or American writer wins the prize. So, here is the case for "obscurity" being a good thing. When the announcement was made live on air, I was unable to comment because, apart from her novel, The Land of Green Plums, which won the IMPAC prize in 1998, I couldn't say very much about her. In fact, I couldn't even remember the name of that novel!

I have since read extracts of said book and I will now buy it and read it properly. Mueller writes about a group of young students whose experiences under the dictatorship of Nicolae Ceausescu are graphically observed.

Interestingly, the book was not written in Romanian, but in German. Mueller comes from a family who were a part of the German-speaking minority in Romania, and her sensibility is informed by that perspective. She now lives in Berlin, where her novels are published to great critical acclaim. A bit like Franz Kafka writing in German in Prague, Mueller saw in her mother tongue a direct and poignant expression of alienation. It could be argued that the work loses some of its significance when read in translation.

All of this, though, forces the reader to confront the complex tapestry of Eastern European history in the late 20th Century. And although the author left Romania in the 1980s, she remains interested in the issues of oppression and exile, which makes her a universal writer.

In fact, she sees it as her duty to write about those things, and she wrote the Land of Green Plums in memory of Romanian friends who were killed under Ceausescu.

James Joyce never won the Nobel Prize, nor did Vladimir Nabokov, but they were giants in their lifetimes. I am glad Herta Mueller has won, because from today, she will be known to a much wider readership than she ever thought possible.

All aboard the Booker express

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 16:42:56 +0000

So it's September, which means this year's Booker train is chugging along towards its destination, where it arrives in early October with the declaration that one author is the "best".

Today's stop was the announcement of the six shortlisted books. Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall has immediately been cast as the odds-on favourite by two major bookies, both of whom were represented at the press conference. This in itself is interesting and part of the whole marketing machine behind the Man Booker prize. More of that in a moment...

First though, the shortlist (there's a rough guide to the six nominees on this page). Chairman of the judges, James Naughtie, declared it the strongest line-up for the last couple of decades - a bold claim indeed.

Are these things only subjective? Would a different panel have come up with a completely different shortlist?

One of the judges, Lucasta Miller, told me that something happens when you read 132 books one after the other. You learn how to tell what works and what doesn't, the levels of virtuosity at work, and so forth. I'm sure there is truth in that, but I read a lot of fiction, too, and I would have included both William Trevor's Love and Summer, as well as Colm Toibin's Brooklyn, over Sarah Waters' book. Hers is a page turner, but I found little in it that was profound.

That's just my view, but it is equally legitimate to the one the judges took. Except their opinions will change the fortunes of the writers. The bookies, too, play their part. As does the media.

Is there any value in book prizes, then, beyond the razzle dazzle of long lists, shortlists, shop displays, special offers, radio interviews and the eventual prize-giving? How many of previous winners will last the test of time?

So many books are published each year that it could be argued that such prizes act as a guide for readers bewildered by the choices out there. But, as someone who loved the Trevor and the Toibin, I would want everyone who cares about stories which leave you ever-so-slightly altered to read them.

The prize industry is an elaborate game, and as with any game, it can be a lot of fun.

Summer break

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 18:29:27 +0000

I am off on an extended break; back beginning of September. Enjoy whatever summer sojourn you have!

The Booker brand?

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 15:12:17 +0000

It is not surprising to hear this year's Chair of the Booker Judges, James Naughtie, saying that "we believe it to be one of the strongest lists in recent memory".

He is hardly likely to say it was anything but among the strongest etc. Every year, every chair of the judges makes claims for the choices they alighted on. Prizes for books as for many areas of the arts are utterly subjective, yet strangely seductive, not just for writers, but for those who write about them, we journalists.

But it's not the case for all writers. I've heard that Sebastian Faulks, whose new novel, A Week in December, is published in the autumn, didn't want his book submitted.

There is a savagely critical and funny scene in the novel about book prizes, by the way, and whether his book was or was not submitted, it has set me thinking about the literary novel and prizes and the attendant madness that ensues around them.

Faulks is of course a very popular novelist and doesn't necessarily need prizes for his books to become better known, though no doubt merely being on the long list, short list and of course winning a prize such as the Booker helps sales, and can transform reputations.

But there are several previous winners who, while they may not have sunk without a trace, have hardly continued to make an impression with subsequent books.

During the last 10 years or so, Booker judges have veered towards the quirky, even though many of the short lists have included the literary grandees of our age. This year, there are a few first-time novelists, but it is a solidly establishment and mainstream type of list, with double winner, J M Coetzee in there, as is previous winner, A S Byatt; shortlisted before twice, but never won, is Colm Toibin and Hilary Mantel, whose latest book is recommended summer reading in many a publication recently, make a powerful group hoping to get to the shortlist.

The joker in the pack is already being identified as James Lever's Me Cheeta, the memoirs of Tarzan's chimp, Cheeta. I wonder if it will make it to the shortlist. Because if there is one thing the Booker is associated with, it is that weird notion, the literary novel, and in bookish circles this is a hornets' nest.

Robert Harris, a very popular novelist, who doesn't need the publicity created by the Booker, has in recent years been viciously critical of the prize and the idea that novels can only be defined as literary because of an inherent intelligence that makes them difficult to read.

I would though, argue with his contention that the literary greats of the 19th Century, Dickens, Thackeray, Trollope and Eliot would have laughed at the pretensions of the Booker.

It is, of course, true that those novelists saw one of their prime aims as wanting to entertain, but they would no doubt have looked on their work as being far superior to the penny dreadfuls and other sensational literature of their age.

And today, there are novels that people think they should read because they are shorlitsted for prizes or have won them. The success of Richard and Judy's Book club has blown a lot of that out of the water, and publishers have taken the programme seriously as they have watched it transform sales, and give potential audiences of books guidance over what they should buy.

The brand still exists, even though Richard and Judy's book club doesn't as such. In that sense, perhaps that is what the Booker has become, little more than a brand.

More than just cartoons

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 15:25:29 +0000

News that the BFI film festival in London this autumn will open with the world premiere of Wes Anderson's first animated film, The Fantastic Mr Fox, is yet another indication of the extent to which serious film festivals are embracing animation.

Cannes opened with an animation for the first time in its history this year and in early September, in Venice, John Lasseter of Pixar will be honoured with a lifetime achievement award. Lasseter has become a symbol for all that is inventive in this medium, but I was amused to read recently that he admits that when the boys and girls at Pixar run out of ideas, they re-charge their imaginations by watching Japanese animation and in particular, the work of the legendary Hayao Miyazaki.

Worth noting also that Wes Anderson has opted for the very slow, classic handmade stop motion or frame by frame technique to tell the story of the best-selling children's book by Roald Dahl.

And he has a stellar cast list for the voices. George Clooney is Mr Fox and Meryl Streep is Mrs Fox; and he has Bill Murray, Michael Gambon, Willem Dafoe, Owen Wilson, Jarvis Cocker and Helen McCrory. Despite having one of the greatest of Dahl's children's tales to play with, Anderson tampers with the story, (only slightly though) and while purists might mind, it will no doubt be a big Autumn draw.

Animation has gone way beyond being children's entertainment only; it is big business and not just at the box office. It is a major employer in the creative industry. And endorsements on the serious film circuit add to its kudos, continued popularity and investment.

Cultural Olympiad takes shape with Tony Hall

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 17:25:19 +0000

The news that Tony Hall has been confirmed as Chair of a new Cultural Olympiad board prompts a few thoughts.

In him, the London Organising Committee of the Olympic Games (LOCOG) has a tireless champion of the arts and if anyone can shed light on how the Olympiad will proceed from now on, it's him.

In addition to chairing the new board, he will also sit on the Board of Directors of LOCOG. How will he manage his new role with his other day job at the Royal Opera House? I don't doubt that he'll find a way, but with both being high profile, publicly accountable positions, I imagine there will be immense scrutiny.

The issues specifically relating to the Olympiad are to do with how the whole thing will work. Few would argue with the fact that the UK has a major opportunity to showcase the cultural sector when the eyes of the world will be on London for the three weeks of the Olympic Games in 2012.

But so much of what has already been said about the Cultural Olympiad smacks of art by committee and now we have a new structure, a Cultural Olympiad Board. It's no wonder those who care raise eyebrows. New structures cost money to run and create new layers of bureaucracy. These are not places where artistic endeavours naturally flourish.

The Cultural Olympiad has set itself very ambitious targets indeed. They want the Olympiad to change the way the games are seen from London 2012 onwards; they want to use the Games to transform attitudes to the arts in the UK. Many partnerships and collaborations have been forming ever since its launch last year, but what shape the Cultural Olympiad takes really starts with Tony Halls appointment.

Is culture too London-centric?

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 17:40:12 +0000

A UK-wide search for City of Culture which will host the Turner Prize and the Brit awards, among others, in 2013, has been launched by the Culture Secretary Ben Bradshaw.

He says we have been too London-centric for too long in our cultural life. I am not sure who the "we" he is referring to is. It can't be the towns and cities outside the capital with flourishing cultural landscapes. Take Manchester, currently hosting its second international festival and has had some fantastic reviews of new work commissioned. And it can't be Gateshead, where at the Sage the Northern Sinfonia is celebrating its 2,000th performance later this month; Edinburgh is gearing up for its annual festival, including the book festival and Fringe, and that is to mention only three. They and other cities are surely not thinking that they are too London-centric. The comment could only come from someone speaking from a London-centric perspective.

Cities and towns all over the UK work to create interesting and stimulating cultural programming, and hundreds of people engage with the cultural offerings in their areas. Perhaps it is a criticism of the media, obsessing only over what happens in the capital.

Mr Bradshaw made this comment by way of launching a national competition to find the nation's first City of Culture. The success of Liverpool as European Capital of Culture, once it was finally spearheaded by TV producer and screenwriter Phil Redmond, resulted in the kind of figures politicians love to cite: 7,000 events; £800m of economic benefit to the Liverpool city region; 15 million visits to a cultural event or attraction.

Using culture as a regeneration tool is commonplace now, but the kind of engineering promised under this new initiative is to do with selling a brand. There is no extra money. The successful city, to be chosen in 2013, will be given the rights to use the UK City of Culture brand, and tailor it to their own city. The bids will be assessed in the context of a fitting follow on from the success of Liverpool and the Cultural Olympiad; given that the latter continues to be mired in uncertainty doesn't bode well for this new initiative.

What would you do with your plinth moment?

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 17:13:22 +0000

On the face of it, Antony Gormley's latest public work of art is pleasingly democratic and novel.

Giving the fourth plinth in London's Trafalgar Square - one of the most prestigious platforms for public sculpture - over to 2,400 individuals to stand on for an hour at a time, could be viewed as radical and innovative, and on one level it is. The counter view is that it is faddish; a gimmick and without artistic merit.

There is something moving about this latest project by Gormley, an artist who has carved out a stellar reputation for routinely filling landscapes with his art instead of having it inside galleries (though he has done that too).

The individuals who are standing on the plinth can do whatever they want, as long as it's legal. They have the National Gallery as their backdrop. And what could be more monumental than standing in Trafalgar Square, a place which embodies paying homage to the traditional type of military or establishment statue?

But what makes this project interesting is that it is anti-monumental; giving the plinth over to the ordinary man or woman places value and merit in elevating the ordinary. I know it will be the spectacular and the eccentric which will capture the headlines. Tomorrow, a scientist raising awareness of lack of clean water, will spend his hour dressed as a giant poo. But I must confess that the most interesting aspect of this project will be the ones who do nothing. Who stand, or sit and reflect.

The potential for profound transformation of some kind is great. And for the viewer too. What would you do with your plinth moment?

Multi-storey art park

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 17:11:37 +0000

I have always thought the River Thames divided London, but a truly stunning view from the ninth floor of the multi-storey car park in Peckham Rye shows that it actually unites the city. The view has to be one of the few in the capital which allows you to see major landmarks from both sides of the river, from Canary Wharf and the Dome in the east, to the London Eye and the Houses of Parliament.

This sense of unity dawned on me as I looked at art by emerging young artists (all under the age of 30) in an exhibition called Bold Tendencies III, curated by Hannah Barry. It is the third such exhibition in the car park, but the first since the success of the Peckham Pavilion at the Venice Biennale, which heralded this suburb's attempt to carve out a place for itself on the contemporary art scene.

The exhibition has some terrific pieces in it, from Hannah Barton and Xavier Poultney's huge black blocks - one with a central hole, and the other containing a fibre optic prism - which face each other and channel the setting sun to create a striking effect.

Another remarkable piece is called Broken Obelisk. James Balmforth's work does exactly what it says on the label, but you have to see it to believe it. And there will be many children who will want to destroy the pristine beauty of Bayly Shelton's piece, Rocks of Ages, Sands of Time.

The setting of a currently-unused car park is genius in itself, particularly as, in this third Bold Tendency, there are a bar and café attached. The unrivalled views alone should prompt people to flock there, but I think it is the art that should get people to the car park in Peckham.

Hannah Barry is a name to watch and I am certain that some of the artists she is championing will be on the verge of fame. If you think there is incongruity in the idea of interesting contemporary art in the place made famous by Del Boy in Only Fools and Horses, then consider the contrast of this: After I left this brilliant view, I wandered the streets of Peckham, and thought about the social conflict of recent years, knife crime and marginalised communities. I marvelled at shop after shop selling fresh meat and fish; vegetables from all over the world, and quick ways of sending money to Africa.

I wanted so much to believe that some of the people I encountered would make the journey up to the top of the car park to share that view and see a united city made real.

Groundbreaking legacy will linger

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 12:06:33 +0000

There aren't many entertainers whose deaths could prompt wall-to-wall coverage on media outlets all over the world.

But then Michael Jackson was unique.

In musical terms, the hyperbole is legitimate - he was quite simply an international legend.

For all those who think the coverage is excessive, there are millions of others who have danced to or listened to his music, seen him perform and loved him. And for these people, this is an epochal moment.

There will inevitably be a continuing, prurient interest in his tragic flaws as a human being; but it is as a profoundly groundbreaking talent that he should be remembered.

His voice as a child was extraordinary - he had an unusually adult feel for soul music.

Music journalists such as the late John Peel, Paul Gambaccini and Richard Williams who were present at the Talk of the Town promotional tour in the early 1970s, were dazzled by the showmanship and natural talent the youngster displayed.

After his voice broke, he continued to impress with his vibrato and phrasing.

It is rare to move from childhood fame to success as an adult. But to do it in the way Michael Jackson did underlined his genius.

Much is always made of his 1982 album Thriller and yes, it was brilliant, but to my mind his first big solo album - 1979's Off the Wall - is one of the greatest albums of all time.

It is an album which heralded Michael Jackson's arrival as a major star, but it did much more in terms of musical legacy. It was a watershed moment.

With Quincy Jones as producer, the album married R&B with pop in a way that had never been done before and it was a portent of the dominance of R&B in the charts in the 1980s and 1990s.

It was the slickness and catchiness of the tunes that marked Jackson's style and produced four US top 10 singles including number ones Don't Stop 'til You Get Enough and Rock With You.

Thriller built on that but did something utterly inspirational and smart - he fused black R&B with white rock to produce the best-selling album of all time.

It made Jackson the first truly cross-cultural international superstar.

Of course, I haven't even touched on his awe-inducing dancing, which was both fluid and instinctive. And it made him seem otherwordly.

His musical influence has been long lasting; Michael Jackson's talent has become part of the DNA of popular music and while there is much sadness in his passing, his presence and groundbreaking legacy will linger.

Theatre on the big screen

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 17:44:48 +0000

The purists could be up in arms, but perhaps there won't be too many of them. Taking its cue from the Metropolitan Opera in New York, the National Theatre in London will on Thursday embark on an ambitious experiment. It will launch its pilot season of NT Live, broadcasting live performances of plays onto cinema screens in the UK and around the world.

Nearly 300 cinemas around the world (73 in the UK) will see a live performance of Jean Racine's Phedre (in a translation by Ted Hughes), with Helen Mirren in the title role. This performance will be beamed live via satellite from the National theatre, using five cameras.

Phedre is the story of a woman consumed by an uncontrollable passion for her young stepson - and thinking her absent husband, Theseus, to be dead, confesses her darkest desires.

When I asked the director Nick Hytner why he chose this play, he said two words: "Helen Mirren".

If this could work with anyone, it would work with her selling it - and she does, in trailers in cinemas up and down the country, mainstream, selective Odeons and Vue cinemas, as well as more art house venues. And why this play? It is, according to Hytner, a purely theatrical experience, but will not and should not be viewed as a film for those sitting in cinemas.

It is more like the equivalent of watching a live sporting event. Phedre is certainly an intense evening at the theatre, and there isn't much in the way of action; it is emotional and requires a serious attentiveness.

There has always been an issue with filming theatrical productions; directors tend to hate it because it makes the productions look flat. But Hytner is a convert in this instance, for two reasons: he thinks that the National can - and should - reach as wide an audience as possible; and the technology, he believes, gives a clarity and resolution which makes it feel "live" for the cinema-going audience.

Subsequent productions coming to a cinema screen near you will be Shakespeare's All's Well that Ends Well; Nation, based on a Terry Prachett novel and adapted by Mark Ravenhill, and Alan Bennett's new play, The Habit of Art, with Michael Gambon, Alex Jennings and Frances de la Tour.

The Met's experiment is hugely successful. Opera is beamed live into 800-plus cinemas around the world. But it costs money. Each production the National does this with will cost £120,000 and, although it is sponsored, the National hopes tickets sales will be able to sustain it in the longer term.

The reach of the National Theatre's productions will certainly increase; ticket sales for the first Phedre cinema performance are currently 71%. But will there be a cost in terms of quality of experience? And is that just a precious perspective? Of course, making artistic work as widely accessible as possible, especially when funded by the taxpayer, is a good thing. But is it being done at the expense of the actual experience of the art form? And would it be complacent to accept that theatre will always be for a niche audience?

In some respects this is a good example of how innovative the creative industries can be; using technology to stay relevant and create new audiences, and the proof, as ever will be with the number of bums on seats.

Acropolis now?

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 17:25:51 +0000

Is there is a difference between the ownership of culture and the ownership of particular artefacts? I have been mulling this over while thinking about the significance of the opening of the new Acropolis museum in Athens on Saturday.

The structure is Greece's answer to the British argument that there is nowhere in their country to house the Elgin marbles, the sculptures taken from the Parthenon's frieze and brought to the UK, two hundred years ago.

Architect Bernard Tschumi's glass and concrete building will house the stones Greece still has as its centrepiece, in a glass gallery which is angled to complement the angle of the Parthenon temple three hundred metres above it. And plaster replicas of the stones in the British museum will sit next to those Greece has in its possession.

The British Museum is willing to lend their bit of the Elgin marbles in theory, but the Greeks have to refused to acknowledge that the British museum is the legal owner of the artefacts. It is a controversy which matters because it forces us to debate the issue of culture and globalism - even though, in the case of the Elgin marbles, it sometimes feels as though it is more akin to a school playground spat.

Where do you stand on this issue? Should the Elgin marbles go back to Greece, or stay in the British Museum? Is that even the right question?

Shouldn't the question be how do we deal with culture in a globalised world; how do we deal with monuments that have global significance?

Call for investment in British arts

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 10:46:51 +0000

From last night's News at Ten: Some of the biggest names in stage, screen and design are calling for greater recognition of the key role played by Britain's creative industries.

The National Campaign for the Arts met in London today and called for greater investment in one of Britain's big business success stories.

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Don't forget the cultural economy

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 15:03:25 +0000

Could the creative industries provide innovative models which will make this sector not just resilient in the current economic climate, but allow it to flourish?

There are economists who think this is happening already. Recent research from the National Endowment for Science, Technology and the Arts (Nesta) suggests that the cultural sector will grow by 4% between 2009 and 2013 - double the estimate for the rest of the economy.

There are parts of this sector which are clearly feeling the effects of the recession, such as architecture and advertising. But others, like the video games industry, are burgeoning. There is a skills shortage, however, which means companies such as RealTime Worlds, in Dundee, run by Dave Jones (he created the original Grand Theft Auto), are having to look abroad for employees. Yet the currently available University courses on video games technology are over-subscribed. Surely, this is an area where the government should be looking to invest?

I've been talking to Lord Puttnam about this and he is a passionate advocate of investing in the creative industries. He thinks they are where young people want to work and argues that the government dismisses their potential at its peril. This goes to the heart of an argument that historically presents the arts community as whingeing luvvies. In fact, the reality is that the creative industries will by 2013 employ 1.3 million people and the wealth generated by these industries could reach £85 billion. It is the economic case for the arts that those in the creative industries need to make.

The National Campaign For The Arts has launched its arts manifesto today which includes a section on the economy: "To maximise the sector's potential, governments should commit to investment over a longer funding cycle of five years, more in line with established business planning". That's one thing, but the creative industries also need to make a case for funding connected with private investment. If the state funding diminishes, so will private sponsorship, so it's in the interests of the state to maintain investment.

The UK is uniquely good at creativity and innovation. Even in difficult times, institutions such as the National Theatre are innovating. Their NT Live project, which will project Racine's Phedre with Helen Mirren, live into 70 cinema screens around the UK, creates a new model to increase audiences.

For many bold enough to say so, the creative industries can be part of the solution to get the economy out of recession.

More on the Venice Biennale

Razia Iqbal (the Reporters) — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 11:36:30 +0000

You can watch my report from "the Olympic games of the art world" below.

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