Over a century after its inception, analysing futurism as an art movement cannot help but be impacted by hindsight of the evolution and implications of the ideas it explored. It can be seen as myopic in how it idolised technological progress in its philosophy, swept up in the excitement of rapid change in the late 19th and early 20th century, without clear foresight for what these changes would entail for society. This perspective is also informed by the radical political ideologies that futurism encouraged, which are commonly seen as destructive by 21st century standards. Of course, this present day perspective is rooted in the original societal inspirations of futurism losing their novelty and excitement, and originating more destructive advancements in technology that have led to more pessimistic outlooks on this progress.

Despite the ideologies of Futurism aging rather poorly, the innovations in artistic formal qualities that it inspired in many disciplines are undeniable, and have proven to be applicable to many artistic ideologies. Presented by the Estorick collection, “Breaking Lines – Futurism and the Origins of Experimental poetry” explores the formal innovations of Italian futurist poetry and how it layed the experimental foundations for concrete poetry in post-war Britain.

Split across the two ground floor galleries, the first room of the show highlights how the Italian futurists, led by their founder, Filippo Tomasso Marinetti, broke poetic convention in their experimental use of form, structure, and sonic connotations of words. Futurism was fueled by a determination to reflect the atmosphere of industrialisation and technological advancement in the early 20th century, which produced new forms, sounds, and complex mechanical systems ripe with artistic inspiration. Concrete poetry of post-war Britain fills the second room of the show, with a particular focus on the work of Dom Sylvester Houédard (1924 – 1992). Houédard, or “dsh” as he referred to himself as, was an eccentric figure who frequented avant-garde circles in Britain after working as a military intelligence officer during the second world war and later becoming a Benedictine Monk at Prinknash Abbey in Gloucestershire. He was also a Theologian, reflected in the works in this exhibit, described in the press release as “exploring themes of transcendence, contemplation and the relationship between the material and the divine”. The display of concrete poetry also includes notable works from other British artists, lent from various collections.

The first room is densely populated, filled with full publications and various excerpts of mostly Italian experimental poetry, framed on the walls and in horizontal glass cases, with monitors showing a flip through video of any full publications on display. The walls are decorated with intermittent floor to ceiling wallpaper strips of enlarged sections of the various works on display, which are hung to overlap these sections in some places, playing with the scale of the works and intensifying the visual landscape of the room. At first I found this to be overwhelming, but after looking at all the works, the curational choice seemed to match the loud, somewhat bombastic style inherent in the futurist works. Without being able to read any Italian, aside from the obvious cognates, the masterful composition of many of the poems became more apparent, directing attention to the qualities that actually influenced the concrete poetry present in the second room of the show. On the far wall, six pages of the futurist movement’s official newspaper, “L’Italia Futurista” display for me is the most beautifully composed poetry in the room. While looking over the largely abstracted compositions of foreign words, letters, and some small illustrations, I found that the natural instinct to read from left to right made an interesting path for the eye, different from the one that may be taken if each letter was replaced with a shape. Futurist literature manifestos from Filippo Tomasso Marinetti, a large print of Carlo Belloli’s famous poem “Guerra/Terra” (War/Land), and various other framed pages from futurist publications make up the rest of the room. The time and consideration put into the design of the original publications reflects the value and esteem such luxury items held at the time, apparent when viewed in a modern context, where an abundance of information sources has reduced quality. I found the inclusion of Blast Magazine II, from 1914, to be a great curational selection. Founded by Wyndham Lewis and Ezra Pound, it offers a contrasting analytical perspective on the era’s innovation in comparison to the Italian futurists, reflecting the alienation and uncertainty of new technologies and inspiring the “vorticism” movement that originated in London. The magazine includes some stunning black and white prints in the geometric, machine like vorticist style, and nicely compliments the mostly text based works in the room.

A large printed photo of Dom Sylvester Houédard greets you on the nearest wall of the second room. He is holding one of his more experimental pieces, “Frog Pond Plop”, a translated haiku by Matsuo Bashō, printed onto a fortune teller, and included in one of the display cases. The photo seems to reflect the softness of the works to come, and the contemplative, spiritual persona of their maker. The most space is given to Houédard’s “Typestracts”, a term coined by poet Edwin Morgan, combining the words ‘Typewriter’ and ‘Abstract’. The abstraction Houédard is able to achieve with a tool as purpose-built as a typewriter is impressive, and must have required planning with serious consideration and compromise for the limitations of the device. As a result, the prints reflect a more modern, complex relationship between man and machine, in comparison to the nascent, ideological observations of technology present in the Futurist works of the first room. While hard to do justice with words, the prints exude subtlety and consideration, combining sparse words with literal or subjective visualisations of their meanings in abstract forms. The uniformity and inherent structure of the typeface used in the compositions plays on and subverts one’s expectancy of direct information from writing and prefabricated symbols, an effect also present in the rest of the concrete poetry in the room, though in a less aggressive way. While not as attention grabbing as the work of Houédard, works from various collections of concrete poetry including the Estorick’s own complete the room. John Furnival’s “Europa and Her Bull”, Paula Claire’s “Animated”, and several works from Ian Hamilton Finlay were some personal favourites. In essence, the second room felt like a much more playful and relaxed continuation of the poetic techniques pioneered by the futurists, with compositions and language much less emphatic in their look.

As well as awarding prominence to the esoteric discipline of concrete poetry, this exhibition reveals a perspective on futurist literature that might usually be overshadowed by its radical ideologies as well as futurism’s more famous contributions to the visual arts. This perspective is undoubtedly a result of expert research and analysis, and a testament to the depth of the Estorick collection and its unique dedication to Italian Art and its impact. With an extensive amount of works not mentioned in this review, and expertly written wall texts that offer great historical insight, the show has potential for many takeaways and subjective points of interest. The curation effectively invites visitors to traverse the two galleries freely and come to their own conclusions, avoiding overbearing narratives, and making for a pleasant, contemplative viewing experience.

Review by Chris Wieland

Featured Image: Carlo-Carra_Atmospheric-Swirls-A-Burning-Shell-1914_Courtesy-Estorick-Collection

Breaking Lines – Futurism and the Origins of Experimental Poetry/Dom Sylvester Houédard and ConcretePoetry in Post-war Britain. 15 January – 11May 2025 Estorick Collection of Modern Italian Art. Visit Estorick Collection for details

Read Chris’s latest Review: Anastasia Samoylova’s ‘Adaptation’ – A visual journey examining the distinction between simulated ideologies and reality – at Saatchi Gallery until 20 Jan 2025 – Abundant Art

Amy Jephta’s ‘A Good House’ is an incisive and satirical exploration of race, class and respectability politics in contemporary South Africa. Presented by the Royal Court in collaboration with the Bristol Old Vic and Johannesburg’s Market Theatre, the production positions Jephta as a crucial voice in the theatrical interrogation of post-apartheid society.

Set within the confines of Stillwater, a gated community emblematic of South Africa’s aspirational middle class, the play begins with the unexpected appearance of a corrugated iron shack on an undeveloped plot. This intrusion rattles the neighbourhood’s flimsy liberal façade, prompting the formation of a Residents’ Association to call for its removal. Sihle (Sifiso Mazibuko) and Bonolo (Mimî M Khayisa), the estate’s only Black residents, are coerced into delivering the eviction notice, a task that highlights the uneasy tensions underpinning their status within this predominantly white space.

Jephta deftly critiques the contradictions inherent in the Black middle class’s pursuit of social mobility, exposing the compromises required for assimilation. Bonolo’s preoccupation with outward symbols of affluence—her prized cheese knife and wine aerator—reveals the fragility of her belonging, while Sihle’s reluctant tolerance of latent racism exposes the emotional toll of their precarious ascent. Surrounding them are their Machiavellian white neighbours: Chris (Scott Sparrow) and Lynette (Olivia Darnley), whose progressive rhetoric conceals deep-seated entitlement and a racialised fear of the outsider, and Jess (Robyn Rainsford) and Andrew (Kai Luke Brummer), a younger couple who awkwardly assert their own unfounded displacement as more significant than Sihle and Bonolo’s.

Under Nancy Medina’s assured direction, the play’s most arresting moments emerge in its use of humour to pierce these social veneers. One such scene sees Sihle and Bonolo retreat into an aside, collapsing into uncontrollable laughter at their Blackness. Their writhing fits leave the audience in a state of disarmed amusement, underscoring Jephta’s sharp critique of performative allyship, where laughter functions both as a release and a weapon against exclusion.

The shack, a stark and enigmatic presence, evokes a Beckettian sensibility. Its evolving design—courtesy of ULTZ’s minimalist yet clever set—gradually humanises the space. As it becomes adorned with bright window frames, a satellite dish, and potted plants, it increasingly mirrors what the neighbours consider home, which amplifies its threat. Resisting straightforward explanation, the shack serves as a symbol of intrusion, fragility and the unspoken tensions beneath the estate’s surface.

The performances are equally compelling. Sifiso Mazibuko’s portrayal of Sihle captures the internal conflict of a man torn between ambition and authenticity, while Mimî M Khayisa imbues Bonolo with a brittle poise that conceals her underlying vulnerability. The white characters, though rendered with less complexity, serve as effective vehicles for examining the hypocrisies of privilege and quotidian racial and neighbourly dynamics.

Jephta’s writing is notable for its dual specificity and universality, rooted in the socio-political realities of South Africa yet resonating with broader questions of belonging and exclusion. The shack becomes a potent metaphor for contested spaces, and A Good House interrogates notions of land ownership, identity and the limits of community.

Review by Florence Marling 

Featured Image: Camilla Greenwell

For information and tickets visit A Good House – Royal Court

Read Florence’s latest Review: Tara Clerkin Trio: A Sonic Journey Through Bristol’s Avant-Garde Soundscapes, at EartH Hackney on 16 November – Abundant Art

As children, fairy tales whisked us away to magical worlds. Our imaginations ran wild, crafting vivid scenes of princesses and faraway lands. The English National Ballet captures this nostalgia with their breath-taking production of the Nutcracker.

Act I opens with an inviting warmth, gently drawing the audience into Clara’s world through the Stahlbaum family’s Christmas Eve party. The set is adorned with rich hues of red and brown, and a tall Christmas tree gleams behind the dancing guests. A moment of hushed awe sweeps through the audience as Clara’s mother swirls across the stage with an almost ethereal glow, her costume studded with sparkles. The scene’s highlight arrives with Drosselmeyer’s puppet show. The children gather excitedly as two dancers emerge from the puppet stage to perform a duet that is both mesmerising and unconventional, blending the traditional grace of ballet with sharper, more puppet-like movements.

Soon, the celebrations draw to a close and the guests bid farewell, leaving Clara’s family to retire for the night. The audience watches Clara sneak back downstairs to the living room, unable to resist the allure of her gift, the Nutcracker doll. As she sits, the magic begins to unfold. Through a delightful use of lighting, the living room is transformed into a space where reality and imagination blur. Mouse-shaped “shadows” can be seen darting down the banisters and across the tops of bookshelves. The audience watches, spellbound, as a shadow shifts and grows into the ominous figure of the Rat King, who then emerges on stage, as if by magic. Here, Clara’s dream begins…

She suddenly finds herself in the midst of a fierce battle between the now life-sized Nutcracker and the Rat King. The scene is delightfully absurd, drawing laughter out of the audience with its ridiculous, dreamlike chaos. Clara is bombarded by a gang of street mice and a mini nutcracker army. She is soon bustled around the stage to safety by a group of suffragettes, bringing more laughter and adding a fresh, playful edge to the show.

With the audience’s mood at a cheerful peak, the battle scene dissolves and the stage transforms into a silvery, moonlit forest. Clara, now grown, stands cloaked in a veil of white mist with the Nutcracker Prince. A “moon” glows at the back of the stage and resembles a large silver bauble, echoing the playful tone of the battle. Yet, the grandeur of the scene is undeniable, and the audience stills once again, breath taken. Clara and the Prince now showcase a stunning duet, drawing the audience deeper into the splendour of the moment through ethereal twirls and lifts that sweep across the stage. With a flurry of twirling snowflakes, the Ice Queen arrives and the audience is swept into the Dance of the Snowflakes. The dancers seem to float across the stage, creating the illusion of a single, grand snowflake centred by the Ice Queen’s glittering crown.

In a deliciously creative bridge to Act II, the Ice Queen conjures up a glistening ice sleigh, and Clara and The Nutcracker Prince climb aboard, leaving the audience to watch in awe as they are lifted up into the air as the curtain falls.

Act II invites the audience to join Clara in the Land of Sweets and Delights. The set bursts with colour and charm, consisting of a series of intricately painted and brightly coloured sweet-themed tents that evoke the feeling of stepping into an old-fashioned sweet shop. The whimsical atmosphere sets the stage for the Sugar Plum Fairy to present a suite of sweet-themed dances. One by one, Clara samples the delights and the dancers (the “sweets”) take centre stage with stunning, gravity-defying dances. The audiences watches in awe as ‘turron’ emerge from an oversized sweet box and ‘marzipan-zwiebelfloten’ leap across the stage. Among the many standout moments, the sahlab dance captivates with its slow, seductive choreography, while the liquorice allsorts bring a playful energy with their whimsical, brightly coloured costumes. The vibrancy and energy of the scene provide an exciting contrast to the misty splendour of Act I, culminating in the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, a captivating presentation of precise and elegant movement. As the Land of Sweets and Delights fades away, Clara is gently returned to her living room, and the show concludes on a high note, bringing the magical journey full circle, and leaving the audience spellbound.

The English National Ballet’s Nutcracker is truly a night to remember. The adaptation embraces the childlike charm of the story and evokes a warm sense of nostalgia while seamlessly incorporating creative, modern ideas. It is a production that enchants audiences of all ages, capturing the timeless splendour of the story through ornate sets and costumes and its fresh, imaginative flair.

Featured Image: Anna Nevzorova as Ice Queen and English National Ballet dancers in Nutcracker by Aaron S. Watkin and Arielle Smith (c) Johan Persson

Review by Aishani Chatterjee 

Information and tickets : Nutcracker Ballet Tickets | English National Ballet

Read our latest Feature: The arts have never been afraid of noses

Reflective to its drawn-out title, writer and director Chantal Akerman takes advantage of every second of her 201-minute piece to understand the meticulously ordered world of its titular character, Jeanne Dielman. The striking ‘real-time’ performance delivered by Delphine Seyrig is supported by Ackerman’s wide and static shots to disrupt the audience’s expectations of pace and narrative importance as we devote our attention completely to a quiet yet intense unravelling of the everyday life.

Jeanne takes to her routine with a hypnotic precision which is particularly effective through her preparation of food. As we watch her peeling every inch of each a potato, one by one, nothing is left to our imagination. The fixed camera helps employ and restrict our focus as we are unable to escape the frame until she has finished, sometimes even lingering after she leaves. Throughout these sequences the audience experience with Jeanne, the significant emotional weight of time passing. Moreover, her completely expressionless face suggests that this rigorous routine is a distraction from the evident emptiness we see and feel on-screen. Unable to skip a step within these practices creates an almost horror-like quality to her work as we begin to anticipate the potential for something that might slip out of her control.

This air of uneasiness is amplified by the film’s limited dialogue. Eating dinner with her son, Sylvain (Jan Decorte), she shares ‘I added less water than last week. Maybe that’s why it’s better’ which brutally punctuates their unintermitted slurping. Without even a responsive look, these words are left lingering between their placemats with an incredible power, emphasising how painfully repetitive and unrewarding her world is. And so, she must keep to her orderly schedule, wasting no time after her last slurp to clear the table, busy herself in the kitchen and bring out the main course.

She also folds her time as a sex worker seamlessly into her schedule as it is treated with the same lack of sensationalism as making mashed potatoes. The preparation for her guest is deliberate: she calmly removes her apron, set the potatoes to simmer, and receives him at the door. And after he leaves, she is back in the kitchen, impeccably dressed to put the potatoes back on the boil. Once again, the intense regularity is a seemingly desperate attempt to brush over her reality.

Thus, it is almost startling when she is stopped in her tracks by a closed cobbler shop or leaves a café absentmindedly before even sipping her coffee, because her seat is taken. Cracks begin to appear within her assuredness. The previously safe confinement of her home is disrupted too, as her son finally finds his voice but only to draw attention to her malfunctions. Remarking on her forgetfulness and messy hair, the steady pace is jolted and it becomes increasingly difficult for Jeanne to rediscover her rhythm within the comfort of her distraction. Ultimately, this spirals towards an unnerving conclusion which leaves us still uncomfortably lingering in-frame, post-credits and slowly remembering our capacity to get up and go.

Hailed by Le Monde in 1976 as “the first masterpiece of the feminine in the history of cinema” and voted Sight and Sound’s Greatest Film of All Time in 2022—the first such recognition for a film by a female director—Akerman’s work remains a radical statement on time, space, and the overlooked labour of women. It is a film that will persist your mind for new interpretations and understandings weeks after watching. Something completely worth an audience’s investment of time.

Review by Olivia Kiakides 

Featured Image: Jeanne Dielman (1975) Collections Cinematek (c) Fondation Chantal Akerman

Sight and Sound Greatest Film of All Time Critics’ Poll winner 2022

Opening in cinemas across the UK on 7 February 2025 as part of the BFI’s major Chantal Akerman BFI Southbank season running throughout February and March 2025.

BFI Distribution re-releases a 2K restoration of Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, in UK cinemas on 7 February 2025 coinciding with a (near) complete retrospective season of Chantal Akerman’s films at BFI Southbank throughout February and March.

A UK cinema touring package of further Akerman titles including Je tu il elle (1974), News from Home (1976), Les Rendez-vous d’Anna (1978), Golden Eighties (1986), and La Captive (2000) will also screen at partner venues across the UK, including Ciné Lumière, Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA) and Glasgow Film Theatre.

For more information visit Chantal Akerman: Adventures in Perception | BFI Southbank

Read Olivia’s latest Review: Kew Gardens invites visitors for their annual spellbinding light display in ‘Christmas at Kew’, until 6 January 2025 – Abundant Art

When it comes to Rachel Zhang’s work the more you look, the more you see. It’s art which requires meticulous observation from its viewer, if in return they want to be rewarded by the joy of discovering the hidden figures discretely placed amongst the scene – such as the politician in the stomach of a patient in ‘seeing permission to enter’ or the bust of a head of a woman in the bottom right corner of ‘hot place heart space’.

Based in Brooklyn New York, Zhang studied at the School of Visual Arts and was recently awarded the NYFA Recharge New Surrealist Prize and has such described as a “leading voice in contemporary genre painting”. Her current exhibition at Saatchi Yates, has offered her a second opportunity to display her art in London, in a gallery acclaimed for its dedication to emerging artists.

Within the walls of the Bury Street building, Zhang has presented 13 titled paintings with the exclusion of captions, enforcing the viewer to translate her work independently – a choice that may not favour the minds unfamiliar to surrealism. Each canvas depicts a familiar location but with a whimsical, phantasmagorical interpretation, inspired by contemporary narrative painters Nicole Eisenman and Neo Rauch. Through these surrealist figurative scenes, she wants us to consider “how interconnected we are- with our relationships to others, to things and places, to the systems we belong in and what roles we play within society” and as such intertwines her paintings with the themes of social psychology. Her work is striking, emblematic and vivid in colour. The large array of work on display is certainly a feast for the eyes, and while brim-full, allows breathing space for thought and thinking and serves as a mirror to the individual’s life- with what you notice and give meaning to, being unique from the person stood next to you. Her work extends to video format, and she provides an array of collage animation, accessible for free online which she hopes gives each person an opportunity to revisit her work in the intimacy of their home.

For those who are mesmerised by surrealist work, and don’t require conceptual subject matter prior to viewing art, Zhang’s exhibition is worth a visit and her career deserving of observation.

Featured Image: Rachel Zhang’s artwork on display – Hot place heart space, 2024, Oil on canvas, 182.9 x 213.4 cm. Courtesy: Saatchi Yates Gallery

Review by Emma Carys

About Rachel Zhang

American artist Rachel Zhang, based in Brooklyn, NY, delves into the absurdities and existential anxieties  surrounding personal autonomy and societal roles concerning systems of power. Through surrealist figurative  scenes, Zhang explores the evolving beliefs that structure social hierarchies and manifestations of control. Her  oil paintings, symbolic of contemporary genre painting, often depict figures in conflict or metamorphosis,  navigating mysterious tasks and public spaces marked by power dynamics. As a second-generation Chinese  American woman, Zhang’s work reflects her nuanced perspective on visibility, otherness, and the complexities  of identity in relation to her cultural heritage and societal expectations. She draws from personal and collective  histories, including the intersection of Asian American experiences, family narratives during 20th-century China,  and broader histories of women’s roles. Zhang earned her BFA from the School of Visual Arts in New York,  where she cultivated her interest in surrealist imagery and its intersection with social psychology. In 2024, she  was awarded the NYFA Recharge New Surrealist Prize.

For more information on Saatchi Yates’ current and upcoming exhibitions visit Home | Saatchi Yates

Read Abundant Art’s latest Review: ‘The Legends of Them’: A spiritual journey sung through scattered memories – Royal Court Theatre until 21 December – Abundant Art

Award-winning actress and reggae singer, Sutara Gayle aka Lorna Gee, invites you into a dreamscape experience; sharing moments in her life, told through songs in this one-woman performance written and performed by herself – The Legends of Them.

Gayle’s dynamic relationship with her mother and her faith emerges as the most compelling aspect of the narrative. Throughout her journey, we hear echoes of her mother mentioning the Lord and the Bible; this seeps into all the crevices of her life, within her desire to become a singer and her sexuality. Near the end, Gayle re-enacts a moment with her mother on the phone, where she comes out as a lesbian. Her mother first responds with, “Well… what about the Bible?” but then tells her that she is her daughter, and she loves her. A moment that really defines the relationship between the two of them, and simply sums up her mother. A mother devoted to her faith and children.

At times, the non-linear narrative can be confusing and hard to follow. However, in some instances, it works well to provide context on Gayle’s character, to understand and see things the way she interprets certain memories. It also invites us to make sense of these specific moments, and question why she has ordered things in certain ways. A helpful tool could’ve been using the colours and lights with more urgency. While contributing to a beautifully vibrant atmosphere, they could have aided in informing audiences of characters and time shifts.

We jump from event to event, with her time in prison, moving from school to school, to the birth of her son. She shares these stories through humorous songs, keeping the audience entertained till she suddenly cuts off into a silence, and so does the audience, and the colourful lights dim. She moves on to the next story. Many of the big moments are expressed through highly energetic reggae songs. These are definitely the standouts. Especially her mother’s song about her beloved sewing machine and her chaotic school journey. Her songs are filled with humour and packed with detail, keeping the audience engaged. It is in these moments that the audience is really drawn into what Gayle has to say.

Though entertaining and humorous, Gayle does not hide the dark and traumatic moments she had experienced. It is here that we see more practical use of stage lighting to create tension and significance, with dark blue lights and smoke taking over the stage.

We see and hear everyone through Gayle, except her brother, Mooji. Uniquely, he is the only character who is voiced by himself through pre-recorded spoken words. This is an interesting artistic choice, highlighting his significance in Gayle’s life, spiritually guiding her through reflective moments. By the end, the audience is also invited by Mooji to join Gayle in reflecting on how memories shape us and our identities. We are asked to “close our eyes” and focus on the present, the now, and not think about the past or the future, offering us a meditative calm to take away – drawing a perfect conclusion to the performance.

Review by Rim Alkaiat

Featured Image: Sutara Gayle AKA Lorna Gee

Image Credit: Harry Elletson

The Legends of Them-Royal Court Jerwood Theatre Downstairs https://royalcourttheatre.com/whats-on/the-legends-of-them/

Read Abundant Art’s latest Review: “A Festive Cauldron of Fun”: Simon Armitage’s adaptation of ‘Hansel and Gretel’ Wows at Shakespeare’s Globe – until 5 January – Abundant Art

The Globe Theatre’s presentation of Hansel and Gretel casts a magical glow over the festive season with a burst of joyous energy. Written by Simon Armitage, this adaptation breathes new life into the classic Brothers Grimm fairy tale from 1812 with a comedic twist, brought to life by a talented ensemble.

The story follows a young Hansel and Gretel ( Ned Costello and Yasemin Özdemir) who are led into the forest  by their parents, a wood cutter and a bread maker (Harry Hepple and  Beverly Rudd),  attempting to save their children from a conflict back in their home village.  On the way, Hansel catches wind of their plan and surreptitiously places white pebble and bread crumbs  to trace their way back home, however, his plan fails. The story then  follows the two abandoned siblings, left to fend for themselves, who are allured by a tempting sweet and sugary  house. But even the house has its secrets, as Hansel  and Gretel come across a  “creepy old lady” (the evil witch, Beverly Rudd), who takes them under their control.

This new version contrasts from the original narrative in a way that sets in tune with a modern audience. In Armitage’s version we see war and conflict rather than poverty and hunger in the original 18th century family which leads to the abandonment of the children. In this representation, the parents prioritise their children’s safety, unlike the original version, where the parents’ original emotions were guided by hopelessness and desperation. The image Armitage attempts to portray is of a loving family, rather than a grim and melancholic one, shifting the focus from despair and ruthlessness  to selfless love  and hope.

Well choreographed and performed musical pieces such as ‘Usherette’s Song’,  ‘Lamp Light’ and ‘Panic Attack’ bring melodious and light hearted moments to the  audience. Despite the rains pouring into the circle at the Globe on a cold December evening, the audience was enveloped in the joyous warmth radiating from the performers.

Narrator Jenni Maitland delivers an engaging performance from start to finish,  introducing the characters with comedic flair and interspersing the show with humorous anecdotes.. Beverly Rudd’s versatility speaks loud and clear through her dual characters, as she convincingly plays both the mother and the wicked lady, seamlessly transitioning  between two contrasting roles. In one, she is an outgoing, firm, and caring mother, and in another, she is the grooving, cunning and sly, antagonist. Through both she manages to bring humour into the show.

Overall, this show is a spectacle in its own right: the tight and concise storyline by Simon Armitage perfectly blends with the precise and impactful direction by Nick Bagnall.  It is easy to follow for everyone and well performed by the entire cast. The witch’s cauldron brings an effervescent opening to the festive season in this family friendly adaptation at the Globe Theatre!

Review by Ayush Chatterjee

Featured Image: Beverley Rudd as Witch in Hansel and Gretel at Shakespeare’s Globe (c. Ellie Kurttz)

For tickets and information visit Hansel and Gretel 2024 | What’s On | Shakespeare’s Globe

Read our latest Review: Tara Clerkin Trio: A Sonic Journey Through Bristol’s Avant-Garde Soundscapes, at EartH Hackney on 16 November – Abundant Art

I had coincidentally travelled straight from Bristol to see Tara Clerkin and her bandmates, brothers Sunny-Joe Paradiso and Patrick Benjamin, whose sound unmistakably channelled their West Country hometown. Settling into the deep-set bleachers of EartH Hackney, I found myself in a space reminiscent of a ramshackle school assembly hall, with its lofty ceilings and dwindling grandeur. Originally an octet, the group had shed five members, yet the stage bore no resemblance to this subtraction. Arranged with a mélange of acoustic instruments, multiple mixers, pedals, and peculiar pieces of retro-futuristic tech, the trio’s setup felt anything but stripped back. At the centre sat a cerulean glass fish, suffused in light, its gaping mouth directed at a microphone. Both abstract and amusing, it stood as an emblem of the eccentric experimentalism that was about to unfold.

With gawkish confidence, the trio shuffled onto the stage and immediately dove into their instrumental riddles. Paradiso opened with discordant brushes of his cello, while Benjamin’s coolly executed keyboard melodies garbled between Clerkin’s ouroboros-like synthy loops. The result evoked a sound reminiscent of Dorothy Ashby’s Afro-Harping albeit in a more fragmented, adventurous iteration. While the layering grew impressively complex, moments of disjointedness left me questioning whether parts were intentional or stumbling toward coherence, and how the former members could have fit without it sounding entirely frenzied. However, once they found their way, their off-kilter samples, electronic drum beats, and airy piano chords laced together, both overriding and giving way to produce a respiring, multi-instrumental soundscape.

Loosely defined as jazz, their show possessed an interstitial quality, straddling multiple genres and covering a range of sonic touchpoints—from naturalistic psych-pop and ambient folk to elements of DnB and woozy trip-hop. Despite drawing from a myriad of influences, their unifying thread was distinctly geographical. Recording samples from everyday life in Bristol, Clerkin captured the nonchalance of the city—breathy gusts from the harbour, chiming church bells, and dismantling scaffolding. Through improvised and extended grooves, these samples led the rapt audience on an undeniably engaging, psychogeographical journey through their hometown.

The trio’s contemporary soundscapes of the city were complemented by an homage to their sonic heritage, as they pushed the 90s Bristol trip-hop template into twisted new forms. At times, this felt like a bold reinterpretation; at others, it seemed to tread familiar ground. Clerkin’s brittle yet breathy vocals carried a sweetness that inevitably drew comparisons to Lou Rhodes of Lamb or Tricky’s long-time collaborator, Martina Topley-Bird but there was also an element of vulnerability in her delivery that made her voice uniquely her own. Playing mostly new material, the brothers steered each track into uncharted territory, executing rhythmic handbrake turns that sometimes felt unsteady but solidified the trio’s commitment to unpredictability.

Taciturn on stage, Paradiso signalled the end of each track with a slightly awkward yet charming thumbs-up, prompting applause from the audience. An unplanned, vaguely chaotic encore followed, with Paradiso somersaulting onto the stage, Benjamin tripping over the stairs, and Clerkin watching with mild amusement, clearly accustomed to their antics. Their final performance delivered a kind of jazz/dub ballad: velvety vocals layered with deviant beats that clashed abrasively against Clerkin’s aquatic clarinet notes—perhaps an ode to the glass fish mascot.

A truly avant-garde and experimental band, Tara Clerkin Trio delivered a completely mesmerising performance. Despite their unorthodox instrumentation being challenging for the audience at points, their set ultimately won us over with pastoral fades, washes of synths, and syncopated drum beats, leaving a lasting, transgressive impression, even if it occasionally lacked polish.

Review by Florence Marling 

Featured Image : Tara Clerkin Trio at EartH Theatre (c) Samuel Mitchell

Presented by Upset The Rhythm

Read Florence’s latest Review: ‘All We Imagine As Light’ – A Beautiful Meditation on Womanhood in India, in cinemas from 29 November – Abundant Art

Payal Kapadia’s ode to Mumbai eroticises constant movement: woozy shots of passing trains, crowded markets and murmuring traffic evaporate before we can grasp them. These dreamlike sequences are elliptical to the extreme, catching us, as observers, in the perpetual present tense. Fleeting encounters between friends and lovers unfold amid the humidity, darkness and perpetual rain; bright lights twinkle across a city that never sleeps as each worker, spectator and traveller holds fast to its allure to keep it alive. Even in the opening scene, Mumbai reveals itself as a place to be lost, to be healed, to gain and to lose time.

Tender and entrancingly observed, All We Imagine as Light captures the loneliness and ennui of three women navigating life as nurses in the sprawling city. Prabha (Kani Kusruti), grounded yet withdrawn after her husband left for Germany and ceased all contact, now sublets her apartment to the plucky Anu (Divya Prabha). Anu, however, is already causing a stir among her friends at the hospital with a clandestine relationship with her Muslim boyfriend (Hridu Haroon). Their older colleague Parvaty (Chhaya Kadam) is widowed and now faces an uncertain future; a property developer has bought her building and without proper documents, she risks losing her home.

Viewers must embrace the unhurried pace of this film, where reflections unfold without clear narrative realisations or linearity. Instead, the camera captures prosaic details and intimate moments of unguarded womanhood from shaded doorways, through windows and down long corridors. Here, the trio moves, visible yet obscured, alive in the city yet isolated and insignificant amid its vastness.

We witness a moment of unfettered heartache as Prabha rocks back and forth on her bedroom floor, clutching a rice cooker sent by her husband– an insulting, parting gift. This loveless object becomes a poor substitute for his presence, while a haunting jazz piano score underscores this moment of forbidden yearning. Her sorrow lingers with the rain that beats down through the open window, filling the room with a palpable scent of petrichor and melancholy.

A twist of fate brings the three women to the coast, where the film’s colour palette softens, and sunlight gently warms their faces. Away from the nocturnal city, the women experience moments of visibility and begin to heal from their respective heartbreaks. While the retreat provides solace through quiet revelations and subtle gestures, the director skilfully avoids the conceited trap of a simplistic city-coast binary. She continues to underscore the charged tensions between the women that were present in the city, yet allows room for self-reflection and quiet bonds of sisterhood to take root.

All We Imagine As Light is a subliminal example of womanhood in modern India. The narrative is deliberate, if in places a little discursive, yet mesmerising in its honesty and affection. A film replete with aching sadness and heartbreak yet shaped by moments of connection and quiet humanity. Though nothing is resolved, great shifts have taken place.

Payal Kapadia’s All We Imagine as Light is winner of Cannes Grand Prix 2024 and is in cinemas 29th November.

Review by Florence Marling

Read Florence’s latest Review: ‘Waves’ of Displacement: Huang Po-Chih’s evocative exploration of labour and identity, at Hayward Gallery until 5 January – Abundant Art

‘Christmas at Kew’ returns for the festive season and its eleventh year to welcome visitors back inside its magical wonderland. Dating back to the 18^th century, The Royal Botanic Gardens were officially declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2003 boasting many iconic pieces of architecture, including the Princess of Wales Conservatory and the Palm House which have become synonymous with their image, along with the park’s wildlife, nurturing an impressive 50,000 living plants. This year’s never-seen-before installations marry light and music to transform the gardens nature illuminated in the night and is utterly magical.

From the moment you step onto the trail you are instantly immersed into the festive atmosphere with the grandeur of the first installation perfectly setting the tone for the evening. Titled ‘Sea of Light’ and commissioned by Ithaca Studio, this spellbinding production is physically impressive being composed of 8,000 individually controlled calls of light along with 400m of bespoke LED lit trees.’[1] The lights swirl around the onlookers, coil around the trees, and blanket the grass, all while rhythmically shifting through multicolours in time with hauntingly beautiful music. Additionally, the choice to showcase the display against the historic Palm House adds a magical touch, as the vibrant spiral seem to flow into the building, creating a whimsical and captivating visual effect.

The standout performance compelled me to audibly gasp at my friend ‘how have they done that?’ Suitably titled ‘Fish are Jumping’ the installation has onlookers watch from the bridge as small beads of light sporadically leap from the water, mimicking fish in motion. It premiered at Glow Eindhoven festival in the Netherlands and is described by its producer, Toer Studio as ‘An ode to the little simple surprises in life.’[2] This intimate display gives moment for pause within the theatricality of the exhibition, celebrating the stillness and wonder of the festive season.

Just when you start to lose yourself within this dazzling wonderland completely, you are struck by its dramatic finale. Set before the opposite side of the Palm House, a stunning light and water show takes centre-stage, commanding—and deserving—your full attention.

Different crowds gather to watch repeated rounds, huddled over the bridge as if at a live concert. Overall, ‘Christmas at Kew’ delivers a show that more than lives up to expectations, enchanting both adults and children alike, and has personally re-awoken my Christmas spirit.

Review by Olivia Kiakides

Featured Image : Christmas at Kew 2024. Credit – Ines Stuart Davidson-©-RBG-Kew-scaled

[1] https://ithaca.studio/2018/01/15/sea-of-light/

[2] https://studiotoer.com/fisharejumping/

For tickets and information visit Christmas at Kew | Kew

Read Olivia’s latest Review: ‘Whistling As The Night Calls’: Martin O’Brien and zack mennell’s provocative exploration of the spectral space between life and death- at Deptford VSSL Studio until 1st December – Abundant Art