Sadly, the world seems to be progressing further and further backwards. With most people addicted to being online and seeing an increase in misogyny, the women are becoming more and more at the peril of “Andrew Tate” style opinions.
Two Little Pigs, written and performed in part by Cailtlin McEwan, the story shows the impact of toxic masculinity in an absurdist, Utopian world. When Mark and his long time girlfriend break up over his partial descent into misogyny, he begins to hate all women. In ensuring he is meeting his “protein goals” and, for some companionship, he buys a highly intelligent pig who was raised with farm hands who were hot on feminism, with the goal to feast on her from cells collected and incubated to make “cruelty free” meat. Pig tries to teach him the error of his ways, but lines blur and it becomes all too much.
The concept has an essence of Animal Farm about it. A hyper aware animal who is learning the ways of humans is beginning to infiltrate somewhat and point out what’s wrong with them. But they are still “new” enough to not really understand a lot of things. Cleverly, this allows Mark to rethink and reevaluate things and there’s a mutual learning between the two on life and what has gone wrong.
By using the same performer for both the ex-girlfriend and the pig is an interesting concept. It blurs the lines and triggers these moments of introspective thought for Mark and makes this all uncomfortable. This is a clever approach but at times wasn’t always clear – there’s a difference in physicality to try and determine this strange cross between the pig and the ex but sometimes it took a bit of time to suddenly realise this change.
The production is mainly from Mark’s perspective. The ex disappears quite soon into the show, only being around to ultimately set the scene. And while this is meant to be a learning curve for him as a male, the feminist part of me didn’t want to give him air-time. Maybe this approach and uncomfortable-ness is a clever ploy to teach us something, and maybe the male audience members and , sure, we don’t like him. But I couldn’t get on board with him being the centre of things. I guess it would have had more impact if he maybe learned a lesson by the end but he doesn’t. Again, perhaps this is intentional and we are meant to see that there is likely no redemption in truth but really, I wanted some character arch moment after all we had witnessed.
Two Little Pigs at the root of the concept is really interesting and its attempts to make you feel uncomfortable and question everything is certainly successful. Unfortunately, without a real turn around in the story, it felt slightly flat and wanting.
It’s nothing new to combine classical music with acrobatics. In recent years, the Southbank Centre have embarked on combined multi-disciplinary acts together, often with classical or orchestral music with another art form. The blend of these goes well together and very complimentary art forms.
But what if I told you that the acrobatic performers were also the musicians? I hope the news of this blows your mind as much as it blew mine to see. Tale of the Firebird takes on the fairy-tale story of the Phoenix, delivering this through music and physical theatre alone. The greatest achievement in this is the ability to play the instruments perfectly through mid-contortion or being propelled into the air. The music and performance already does well to bring the story to life, making it easy to follow and understand, even if you’re not aware of the tale.
The awe inspiring performance nicely builds throughout… we start with the performers playing music but soon, the odd trick in thrown in, separate to the instruments until they combine these, then fire, then even more intricate techniques. This gentle crescendo warms us up – they don’t try anything complicated or fancy with this but the simple build is enough to shock us and be open-mouthed at their incredible abilities.
While there is a protagonist and a villain who occupy the narrative, all the performers have their moment in the light and are all as clearly talented as one another. This isn’t just a commentary on their circus skills but the fact not a single note was out of place, while upside down, mid-air, whatever it may be, was just amazing to watch. What was even more incredible was a mini-harp – I never knew this existed! With plenty of children in the audience, the audible noises of excitement and awe was only vocalising what we were all thinking.
Tale of the Firebird is unlike anything I have seen before – the existence of performers with the ability to not only perform music but to also perform body-defying tricks at the same time is so unique and so impressive to see – it has to be seen to be believed.
If any of you were a teenage girl, you will have had a “boyband” moment – the moment where you were obsessed to some degree with their music, their looks and were convinced you were destined to marry one of them. For me, this was punk and emo bands but I definitely get the hype and we all know the “Take That” euphoria stereotype.
MAN!FEST: The Drag Boyband does exactly what their production company says on the tin: they provide a production that is very on the nose about boy bands. We meet the group, comprising of 4 very different characters, but ones we all recognise in a boy band: the quiet shy one, the athletic girl-mad one, the bad boy and the posh boy. Together, they provide unique songs, all perfectly catchy but, when you listen closely, the lyrics reveal something a little darker or highlighting male stereotypes. Think, a song about leaving you on read, or telling you everything you want to hear as a teenage girl about your attractiveness and worthiness. But between interpersonal relationships and the dodgy demands of their production company, the cracks start to form and chasm. And soon, this boyband aren’t the perfect men after all (not that they ever were).
The production is full of unique and one off songs. They are so quintessentially boyband-esque, with toe tapping beats and a catchy-ness you would find hard to forget. When you listen closer, the lyrics are something unsavoury, reminding me much of my adult years of listening to old songs and suddenly knowing what the lyrics now mean. Their ability to pull this off and put thought into it is commendable and the attention to detail is fantastic. This is accompanied by impeccable choreography that N Sync would be jealous of. The performers have a great ability to show the tension in the group while still being able to “perform” and we can then see the trajectory of this demise woven throughout.
While entirely enjoyable, there felt like there was something missing. It was easy enough to get involved and at no point did I feel boredom. I was invested. And I will always be impressed with anyone who can sing, dance, break dance and still sing without gasping for breath . But the story-line over all hit a flat note for me. I know it’s a slight cop-out to not give more reason but maybe, for me , it just missed the mark.
MAN!FEST: The Drag Boyband is an enjoyable production, harking to all our inner teenage girls and our unobtainable idolisations. But something was just missing to give it the wow factor.
Bi-curious George the drag king, is back again with more theatre based on nature. This time, moving on from an array of animals, George has decided to focus on the humble Snail and I for one came away well informed!
Bi-Curious George: Snail Trail in a comedic drag king act meets reflective piece on transitioning. We firstly expect this to be a full-blown cabaret/drag king act, with the snail as the main focus, as they come on the stage, sllloowwllyy and with a giant snail shell on their back. They interact with us throughout, telling the story of the snail but also themselves, in the most endearing and friendly fashion that we soon feel like close friends.
George does well to change the tempo and play with our feelings from comedy, to camp cabaret and then personal and very vulnerable moments. We learn intimately about the formation and life of the snail, which I never thought I would be so fascinated by. Thrown in are some exaggerated and humanised elements to bring humour and relatability. But soon there are moments when the shell comes off and they unveil themselves and their journey through transitioning. George is entirely loveable and these moments connect us, whether we can resonate or not. Soon, the comparison to the snail, the “coming out of your shell” phrasing, all makes sense and we soon see why George loves this little creature so much, especially through their personal journey.
This is a relatively new show and some honing is still needed. Moments which could have been cut down or sharpened slightly but this is all part of theatre and creating art. We already know that with a bit more time, George will have this as sheer perfection like their last show.
Bi-Curious George: Snail Trail is a raw and honest production, with moments of comedy and one hell of a giant handmade shell.
If you had told me that there was a theatre in a sauna… I would have been confused and told you you were lying. Why would anyone think that (albeit genius) idea up? Well, in come Sauna Theatre, who have done just that and triumphed beyond anything.
I love a sauna like anyone else, but it’s usually just a place you relax as a spa or post gym workout. Not somewhere I really thought of theatre being positioned. How would it work with the intense heat? How does a performer even get on with this environment? But my expectations were by far surpassed with actually how genius an idea this is.
Sauna Theatre has set up at the wonderful Summerhall, with a huge circular sauna built in their courtyard. Everything is thought of – changing rooms, lockers, places to dry your hair after, spare flip flops, costumes, towels, the whole lot! Comms beforehand with all the things you need to bring as so clear but still, if you need anything or forget anything, it’s all there for you.
There are a range of sessions you can join – some look like they pull on the traditional sauna, with relaxation sessions in the morning, but there are also raves, night time activities and, what I chose, Mysteries of the Picts – a storytelling, theatrical session where you are immersed in the sauna and the history of the Scottish lands. Anyone who knows me knows my deep love of Scotland, its history and everything in between and beyond. So to know more about the picts in such a setting was truly exciting. I couldn’t anticipate exactly how brilliant it was.
Set in 3 sessions, there’s enough time to have a short break from the heat, quick cold plunge, drink and back into it. The acts felt like no time at all – I found out later that these were 15 mins each but they were so enjoyable and I was so involved that it felt like no time at all. It was only noticeable when the heat became ever so slightly uncomfortable, meaning the break was well needed and timed. This isn’t a criticism – this would happen at a normal sauna, but part of me never wanted to leave, another desperately needed some cool air.
The sessions were broken up from the beginning to “the end” of the Picts, picking up on archeological finds and theories, with verbatim voice overs but mainly wonderful storytelling from two actors. They were supported by our Sauna gurus, who equally took up space, adding ice balls filled with beautiful scents of lavender, mead, thyme and then performing intricate and traditional fan and towel movements to circulate the air and smells. It was a wonderful equal measure of relaxation, awe and invested learning. It was absolutely perfect. It evoked the feeling of days gone by of swapping stories across a fireplace and potentially in sweat lodges such as this. It felt tribal, traditional and ancient. We felt part of something more earthly and worldly.
The end really leaned into the relaxed lifestyle, when our sauna guides really became playful – water and scents dripping from immersed leaves were artfully moved around the space, around us and then, deeply submerged and playfully thrown across us. Cue laughter, an intense coolness and then increase in heat, smiles all around from participants and performers – it really was a beautiful ending to such a fantastic experience.
Sauna Theatre, Sauna Sessions and especially, Mysteries of the Picts is a tour de force in immersive theatre. An experience like no other, I could do this over and over again, never tire, and only want more. It was total perfection.
Take all the typical royal stories you hear of succession, throw in a drag king and a whole heap of humour and you have Lil Wenker’s Boyking.
I was introduced to Lil Wenker last year with their western cowboy turned accountant act and instantly knew I needed to see more of them. This year, they bring the story of 8 year old Prince Wilfred who is 14th in line to the throne and very unhappy about it. What ensues is a catalyst to trudging up his deep and dark evil side, as he embarks on becoming King through any means.
Boyking is rude and crude from the start. We get multiple characters out of Lil Wenker, from the court jester, to snippets of his father and the odd brother. His mother appears but only as a giant boob, manipulated and grotesque in a Bouffon style appendage that appears from off stage and breast feeds the Prince. The characters are distinctive and prompted with different voices, mannerisms, physicality and associated props which are all very clever to bring the story forward. They’re not deep characters and that works perfectly; enough to give shock but also enough that you’re not emotionally invested.
Everything is highly elevated and exaggerated. A large crown that allows Lil Wenker to provide some hilarious physicality with audience interaction that could border on too much for anyone else but who for Lil Wenker pulls laugh after laugh from it the more it goes on. There’s also to say that we are all involved throughout; don’t think that you can go without being interacted with or asking for some involvement. And this is always welcomed – it adds to the hilarity and, when audience interaction is unexpected, Lil Wenker is skilled enough that this doesn’t throw them – they go with it and it only adds to the fun.
There are really dark, black comedy moments however – when Boyking is evil, the grotesque boob, to name just a few and this is a level more than their last show. Without the traditional physical aspect of Bouffon, it still touches on this dark and taboo humour which makes you occasionally gasp-laugh with the shock factor but also, with great intellectual comedy.
Boyking is dark, naughty and ever so funny. Prepare to be hilariously shocked and belly laugh throughout.
It’s hard to miss a large giraffe head across the fringe. I heard of Francisco last year and sadly never got the chance to see him. But that yellow and brown pattern has haunted me ever since – haunted me for a missed opportunity.
What transpires is one hour of complete and enjoyable nonsense. I’m not sure if there was a story per se but little small sketches throughout that seamlessly linked into one another or slightly circled back.. The majority of the narrative is to enable a healthy dose of audience interaction and it works very effectively. So, easy to say, if you’re the shy and retiring type, this is not for you – but nothing to fear, Francisco is nothing but friendly, even if his visible bum cheeks feel slightly daunting at first.
Francisco has made a very impressive headdress, something from Lion King comes to mind. Made out of cardboard and not entirely accurate or anatomically correct, the small hole for his face allows him to make confident and hilarious eye contact, sound and facial expressions. This all adds to the ridiculous humour and there’s no rhyme or reason to why the giraffe’s interactions are sometimes from his face or the giraffe’s inches above him. We don’t question it as it only adds to the humour and ridiculous nature.
I’ve alluded to it but moving down, we are often treated with a full view of his bottom. There’s nothing sexual or necessarily crude in this, but only elevates the nonsense more and adds to the overall costume – with slightly mismatched patterned accessories, verging on leopard rather than giraffe. It might seem like something that a starting out act might do in absence of funds but this is actually a very clever approach and weirdly goes together.
There’s a little bit of Mr Bean about this act. Very little actual speech is uttered, and if it is, it’s almost mime. But we entirely get what he means. Slight, more obvious prompts are made to help the audience along but he fully embodies his act through physicality which is innately funny. His interactions with the audience are abundant but nothing terrifying. There’s some slight crude-ish humour – think sniffing his ever growing quantity of g-strings on a washing line, but mostly it has a tinge of slapstick and a touch of flirtation.
Francisco de Nata is just pure nonsense of the best kind. It’s one hour of surprising comedy, evoking the naughtier side of Rowan Atkinson and providing humour that trails one after the other in perfect succession.
There are some concerts where you leave talking about a particular solo or favourite piece. Then there are concerts that make you rethink what an orchestras purpose can be. The National Open Youth Orchestra’s concert with the BBC National Orchestra of Wales at the Wales Millennium Centre was very much the latter.
NOYO is the world’s first disabled-led national youth orchestra, bringing together talented disabled and non-disabled young musicians from across the UK. For Cardiff, this orchestra has a special connection. The city is home to one of NOYO’s regional ensembles, based at the Royal Welsh College of Music & Drama. Young musicians rehearse there throughout the year, building their confidence and musical skills before progressing to national performances like this one.
Since its launch in 2018, the National Open Youth Orchestra and its partners have successfully established a programme for young disabled musicians to develop their skills at an advanced level, offering accessible ensemble practice and performance opportunities in five regions. Alongside young musicians, the orchestra has pushed the boundaries of contemporary classical music, inspiring composers with a new range of instrument sounds and showing it could help widen audiences for contemporary classical music through relaxed performances. All National Open Youth Orchestra musicians have come through the ranks of five regional NOYO Ensembles, which are delivered through major partnerships in London, Bournemouth, Bristol, Birmingham and Cardiff.
The concert celebrated what an orchestra can become when accessibility is treated as part of the creative process rather than something added afterwards. Alongside violins, brass and percussion were electronic instruments such as the Clarion, played on an iPad. Rather than feeling unusual, they blended naturally into the orchestra’s sound, creating colours and textures that felt completely at home.
It’s easy to forget just how much work goes into a performance like this. Speaking about the tour, Cardiff NOYO member Josh Phelps, explained that preparation had started months before the concert.
“Since September, we have done three in-person rehearsals in Bristol, Birmingham and London. We spent four days together on a residential course over Easter as well as several online sessions.”
Asked what had stood out most, his answer was refreshingly simple.
“I’ve most enjoyed performing in prestigious venues, giving the premiere of The Orchestra: A Young Person’s Guide and seeing audiences enjoying our concerts.”
That enjoyment was obvious in Cardiff. There was a warmth between the players that couldn’t be rehearsed. Smiles were exchanged after solos, musicians encouraged one another throughout the performance and there was a genuine feeling that everyone on stage wanted each other to succeed. It created an atmosphere that was impossible not to respond to as an audience member.
The concert also highlighted another side of NOYO that often goes unseen. Daisy Evans, a graduate of the Royal Welsh College of Music & Drama, supports delivery of the Cardiff NOYO sessions and spoke about how working with the orchestra has shaped her own career.
Daisy explained that before joining NOYO she had worked in inclusive music-making and instrumental teaching, but the orchestra had allowed her to develop those skills in a professional orchestral environment. She has arranged music to suit different learning styles, conducted everything from classical repertoire to film music and improvisation, and worked one-to-one with musicians to ensure they can take part in rehearsals in ways that work best for them.
During this tour Daisy supported a musician performing on the Clarion, helping with setting up the instrument, following colour-coded notation during rehearsals and providing support during the performance itself. Sometimes that support was practical. Sometimes, she said, it was simply offering a reassuring smile after a solo.
After the Cardiff performance she asked some of the musicians how they had felt. One admitted to being nervous before walking on stage, but said those nerves disappeared once the music started.
For Daisy, that’s what makes live performance so important.
She believes making music together creates opportunities for young people to build friendships, express themselves and communicate in ways that don’t always rely on words. For many musicians, those shared experiences can be just as valuable as the performance itself.
That sense of belonging ran through the whole evening. The partnership with the BBC National Orchestra of Wales never felt like experienced professionals leading from the front. Instead, it felt like musicians sharing a stage, learning from one another and celebrating what could be achieved together.
Too often conversations around accessibility focus on what people can’t do. NOYO quietly turns that conversation around. It simply presents brilliant young musicians making ambitious music at the highest level, with the support and technology that allow everyone to contribute fully.
The centrepiece of the evening was The Orchestra: A Young Person’s Guide by Charlotte Harding, arranged by Liam Taylor-West, read by Niamh Moriarty .Inspired by Britten’s famous guide to the orchestra, this felt like a work written for today’s generation. Every section had its moment, but more importantly every musician seemed to have a place within the story the music was telling.
Thanks to NOYO for giving us permission to reproduce this below, a wonderful illustration of the power of culture and access working hand in hand.
The Orchestra: A Young Person’s Guide, Charlotte Harding, arr. Liam Taylor-West
I – Particles
It moves the energy in the air, Particles, frequencies, vibes, sync into our skin, our bones, our hearts, our souls, Waves of potential – traditional, experimental – Enliven our senses through notes and tones, That are heard, performed, composed, evolved by this unique sonic formula … This is our orchestra.
II – Individuals
So this orchestra, it’s the sum of its parts, Vibrations start with individual, Bows, breaths, valves, keys pressed, Strings, sticks, the flick of a switch, And in this orchestra, everyone fits.
III – Sections
From individuals to aural connections, When instruments come together, they unify into sections, Winds, brass, percussion, electronics, strings, keys, Melodic, homophonic, bass lines, voices, textures, beats, There’s strength in numbers; we’re players in a team …
IV – Palettes
From individuals, to sections, to an orchestral palette …
… of kaleidoscopic colours that can paint and inhabit, Realities, dreams, stories on a screen, variations on a theme; blue, red, yellow, green, A portal to worlds of imagination, or a personal key for emotional articulation …
V – Tutti
This orchestra echoes the past, sounds in the present, It’s creating a future sonically incandescent, It’s a symphonic celebration of all that we are, An open invitation to all play our part, A universal language of joy and endeavour, That moves us most when we are tutti, together.
NOYO play Bristol Beaon as part of this tour and the performance will be available to listen to from BCC Radio 3 here
As someone who spends much of my time thinking about stories: How we tell them, who gets to access them, what makes them unique and why they matter.
I often leave the theatre asking myself one question: How did this make me feel? With Owl at Home, the answer was simple. I felt held.
Theatr Iolo has long understood that theatre for young audiences should never talk down to them. Instead, Owl at Home invites us into a gentle, imaginative world where stillness becomes a strength and curiosity is something to celebrate. Based on Arnold Lobel’s much-loved stories, the production reminds us that the smallest moments can often carry the greatest emotional weight.
From the moment the performance begins, George Williams fills the stage with warmth, humour and boundless curiosity. His Owl is thoughtful, eccentric, playful and quietly vulnerable. He finds joy in the everyday, creating adventures from ordinary objects and conversations from silence. It is a performance built on trust; by trusting children to understand emotion without needing everything explained, and trusting adults to reconnect with the child that still exists within them.
Williams’ experience in clowning shines through every movement. His physical comedy is beautifully judged, allowing the humour to emerge naturally from Owl’s curiosity rather than from exaggerated performance. He throws himself around the stage with incredible commitment, making every stumble, leap and playful interaction feel effortless. Every inch of the performance space is explored, and every prop has purpose. Nothing feels decorative or unnecessary; each object becomes another opportunity for storytelling, surprise or laughter. It is a masterclass in making a seemingly simple set feel limitless.
What resonated most with me was the production’s commitment to visual storytelling. As an audio describer and storyteller, I spend a great deal of time considering how stories can exist beyond spoken language. Owl at Home demonstrates this beautifully. Movement, rhythm, music and expression become languages in their own right, proving that powerful storytelling is as much about what we see and feel as what we hear.
Music gently threads the production together, adding warmth without ever overwhelming the story. Since leaving the theatre, I have caught myself repeatedly singing Cosy, one of the show’s original songs. It is deceptively simple, wonderfully memorable and perfectly captures the feeling of Owl’s world. To me, that says something about the quality of the writing and composition. The best theatre doesn’t always leave you quoting dialogue; sometimes it leaves you humming a tune that quietly follows you home.
The production also reminded me why I continue to advocate for accessible, inclusive arts experiences. Accessibility isn’t simply about removing barriers; it’s about creating opportunities for everyone to feel welcomed into a story. Before the performance had even begun, this commitment was already evident. A resource table outside the auditorium offered audiences access to song lyrics, a stage layout and background information about the production. These thoughtful additions allowed people to familiarise themselves with Owl’s world in advance and demonstrated that accessibility had been considered as part of the creative experience rather than added afterwards. As someone working in accessibility, these details mattered, and they reflected the care that ran throughout the production.
There is a tenderness running through the entire performance. Owl spends time alone, yet the story never frames solitude as something to fear. Instead, it becomes a place where imagination flourishes. At a time when so many of us feel pressure to move faster and do more, Owl at Home gently reminds us that there is beauty in slowing down, noticing our surroundings and finding comfort in our own company.
Watching the audience was one of the evening’s greatest pleasures. Children laughed freely, leaned forward with anticipation and became completely absorbed in Owl’s adventures. Adults smiled just as often, perhaps recognising something of themselves in Owl’s quiet rituals and gentle optimism. It is rare to witness a production that speaks so honestly across generations without compromising either audience, but Theatr Iolo achieves exactly that.
The production plays 15 – 30 August 2026 Edinburgh Fringe, find out more here
Hi I’m Steve Sobers, one of the RWCMD Community Volunteers, in this role the volunteers seek to support the college mission of being “A Space for Everyone”. The volunteers come from a range of different backgrounds, to support their role, they receive a volunteer pack and training on presenting to the public on behalf of college. Volunteers speak to community groups about the work of RWCMD and develop links with communities and college.
An important element of the role is working with the college, to focus on a range of productions in the Creative Programme to support new audiences to access the venue and see live performances. I have previously supported 7 members of my church group to see the RWCMD Big Band for a jazz performance. During the most previous term I worked with Guy the Communities Engagement Partner and we discussed the Creative Programme of performances. I was particularly interested in a new play called Boy-Ish by Massena Productions to see how it would approach the subject of men and their place in contemporary society, which it did…delicately and with sensitivity.
One of the reasons I was particularly interested in this show was, I’m currently serving as the lead facilitator for the ANDYSMANCLUB group that meets every Monday (except bank holidays) 7:00pm-9:00pm at the Cardiff City Football Stadium. AMC are a men’s suicide prevention charity, offering free-to-attend peer-to-peer support groups across the United Kingdom and online. We want to end the stigma surrounding men’s mental health and help men through the power of conversation. #ITSOKAYTOTALK
The production BOY-ISH begins with a simple premise—four young men breaking into their old school for a night of drinking, reminiscing and reckless nostalgia—but what unfolds is far richer, darker and more tender than this setup suggests. The play uses this return to familiar spaces as a way of exploring the emotional archaeology of boyhood: the jokes, the games, the bravado, the unspoken rules, and the quiet wounds that never quite heal.
The writing by Rhys Warrington, in collaboration with Anthony and Kel Matsena, is sharp and attuned to the rhythms of male friendship. The dialogue swings smoothly between laddish humour and moments of startling vulnerability, capturing the way men often supress their feelings rather than speak to them aloud. The production leans into this tension beautifully. Told through a fusion of music, movement and gripping drama.
The play understands that growing up is messy, and that the spaces that shaped us—schools, locker rooms, playgrounds—leave marks that adulthood doesn’t simply erase. It explores how trying to change can feel like betrayal, while staying the same can feel like failure.
The Matsena brothers’ choreography brings an electric charge to the production. The physicality of the performers gives the audience access to the inner lives of these men in ways the characters themselves cannot articulate. It’s a clever and affecting, especially in a play about people who were taught to ignore or deflect their feelings.
The result is a production that feels both intimate and universal. In the end, the play lingers because it understands something essential: that the people we were as children never fully disappear. They echo in our friendships, our fears, our choices. And sometimes, all it takes is one night in an old school to hear them again.
Creating opportunities for a diverse range of people to experience and respond to sport, arts, culture and live events. / Lleisiau amrywiol o Gymru yn ymateb i'r celfyddydau a digwyddiadau byw
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