So today I had the pleasure of seeing a new play by Carol Ann Duffy.
She either was, or is, the poet laureate.
I’m not sure which because, curiously enough, turing up for twelve-hour NHS shifts takes up more of my time now than reading about the latest developments in the arts sector.
Anyway, the play is called My Country. I’d love to get my hands on a script to read and re-read.
In an era where the many feel increasingly disenfranchised from the powerful few, a play which blends the oral and personal history of the many with characteristically Duffyite poetic lyricism to make sounds of ugly ideas unbelievably beautiful and rhythmic and sounds of solid ideas questionable, is most welcome.
She’s done more for consultation with the public than most large multinationals, political parties, or other organisations.
Politics at present is, to say the least, divisive. It’s pitting everyone against everyone.
In its song, sincerity, truth, and poetics, this play dramatises these very divisions and their remarkable similarities.
Despite major cuts to the arts, it throws to the fore the very importance of artistic works in formulating opinion and debate whilst providing laughter and entertainment.
Is it a coincidence, then, that front-row-student-tickets are a fiver? Or is this about the formulation of the ideas of future generations, even if those future generations are nearly thirty because of job freezes and cuts and employer demands for those with further study under their belts?
I have no idea.
I’m trying to think of some pithy final comment. But I have no idea. I’m tired, and the rail journey between Britain’s two worst-linked major cities is inapproriately long.
Please, if you get a chance, go and see this piece. And let me know what you think.