Tag Archives: Patrick Jones

Review: My Bright Shadow – Patrick Jones, by leigh amor

June 19, 2019 Patrick Downes Leave a comment

I’m normally the person who reviews music and musicals, so I thought I’d pass Patrick’s new book to my sister in law Leigh for her to give an oversight on My Bright Shadow – Patrick Downes

It is said ‘grief is the price for love’ and this collection of poetry explores the void that is left behind after the loss of a loved one.

My Bright Shadow, by acclaimed poet Patrick Jones, offers a tender insight into grief, with almost touchable pain that defies consolation.

Yet it is the endurance of love that shines in this poetry. Bitter-sweet everyday memories of ironing, homework and hospital visits are entwined with a raw sense of loss and longing.

The universal pain of loss is quietly contemplated here, reaching out for answers and wincing at the pain it brings. Nature offers a comforting presence with beautiful imagery woven throughout, offering a thread of hope.

Haruki Murakami said ‘No truth can cure the sadness we feel from losing a loved one’. Despite Jones’ intimate search for truth and answers, it is a family’s love that is the overwhelming imprint left by this powerful collection.

Review by Leigh Amor

Literature

Review: My Bright Shadow by Patrick Jones by Sian Thomas

June 4, 2019 Sian Thomas Leave a comment

Though I do adore both writing and reading poetry, I admit to having not previously heard of nor read any work by Patrick Jones. That being said, being presented the opportunity to discover him, I took it quickly. Not knowing a poet wouldn’t stop me from learning of them – besides, the process is always enjoyable. Poetry in itself is enjoyable. I’m always excited to read more, and I’m glad I did.
After reading through the whole anthology, I definitely decided on some favourites! Namely: Plume Angel, The Smell of Sundays, Wrapped in the Arms of Ghosts, Lovesung, The Presence of Absence, Mothering, and When are all in my favourites, for a bunch of different reasons.
Plume Angel was the first one to show Patrick Jones’ use of white space, which is a technique in poetry I both utilise (often) and really love to see. It makes the poem much more interesting, when your eyes are darting all over a page rather than just going in one expected direction. I loved the feel of this poem – it was very gentle, from the get-go. The first stanza was my favourite one, but my favourite line was, “tiny talismans / crashed to / earth / from an icarused flight”, solely due to the image of falling people and falling feathers. There, despite the softness, was also a great sadness to it (which is understandable, based on how the book itself and all the poems were born from a son’s experience of a mother with leukaemia). In a similar vein, Wrapped in the Arms of Ghosts also has this feeling with peppered in lines that I find really satisfying. For example, “clinging to sepia stained memories / bleeding frames and flickering effigies / hearing voices from forgotten melodies / is yesterday to be our only legacy” I found to be a lovely line, with a lot of emotion threaded inside and around it – especially considering the sounds that comes from reading or speaking them, which further created an positive impression and reaction from me.
Throughout each of the poems I found that drew me in was a consistent and understandable melancholy. The feeling was crafted really well, and also waded in and out with other things, too. Regret, wanting to go back, feeling the pressure of time and how we should be cherishing the seconds we have (which I do love, as a theme, it has a tendency to humble me and very quickly). The poetry was impressive, with really nice flow and images, although seeing the white space was definitely my favourite thing to take note of.
Lastly, Lovesung was one of my favourite poems, because it opened up a discussion I’ve been having within myself a lot lately. It came for my questioning if poetry and writing is an escape, and if it is – if it works? It came head-first towards my own habit of reading and writing to escape the endless refresh of bad news on Twitter, and the constant background noise of the world running all too fast away from me. And I really liked it, because it almost felt like being seen, and being coyly nodded at in a “I do this too and it’s nice and we maybe probably won’t tell anyone” kind of way. I loved it.
I’m giving the book three stars because I found some of the poems harder to untangle than others. I know full well this is a subjective area, full of people with subjective thoughts, but though these poems were well written and used really lovely language, some of them (for example, The Presence of Absence) did give me trouble in trying to decipher what – in that moment – was happening. I could understand the general sadness and regret leaking out of the poems, but other lines were more puzzling than expected. Which, having said this, could be seen as either good or bad by anyone else – but for me it did disrupt my enjoyment of treasuring the past and dwelling on actions and the present. Because of the grief hanging off some of the poems, I did find it a bit difficult to fully engage, however, this doesn’t take away from my admiration of this collection being published at all, when each pieces is so deeply, deeply personal. That’s worth respecting.
I’m glad I got a chance to read this work. I do love poetry and reading it is always an experience to be had. I had fun, and enjoyed what I saw. I would read it again.

Theatre

Review Before I Leave National Theatre Wales

June 3, 2016 admin Leave a comment

(4 / 5)

National Theatre Wales soar as their revere for a nation of unified pride reigns in a more increasingly inclusive Welsh theatre, at the Sherman Theatre.

From first glance Before I Leave is a story of Alzheimer’s – inevitably sad and scattered with a respectably predictable style of humour. However, with a wonderfully assured cast, a truthful direction, and a truly vibrant script, a brewing passion of a profound Welsh musicality triumphs! Rocky’s war-cry of ‘Why can’t we give love one more chance?’ encompasses this performance for me. We all can appreciate the desperate actions of a character put ‘Under Pressure’.

To quote playwright Patrick Jones “This play is a testament to the healing power of song” From the perspective of, debatably, the youngest person in the audience on Tuesday night, regardless of my cultural experience – and knowledge of The Jam or Neil Diamond – I (like the entire audience) can acknowledge that music has an ability, if somewhat exploited in this piece, to evoke our human longing for nostalgia, understanding, belonging and escape. The Before I Leave chorus and choir added a beauty, in its sentiment, to a pop-rock enthused performance.

Director Mathew Dunster champions empathetic and honest portrayals, through an admiration for ‘the people’. From Desmond Barrit’s unapologetic portrayal of an ex-policeman embodying a life of continuous conflict. Celia Hewitt’s sorrowful, and enlightening, Isabelle, and Dafydd Hywel’s exulted grit in Rocky – who illuminates the truth behind a too well-known Welsh figure. But, Martin Marquez’s Joe – a slowly fading rocker, unsure of what he’s raging at anymore – makes for a seemingly effortless and encompassing performance, and perhaps, as a result, the most under-rated of the evening.

Dunster’s direction – of meandering crossovers and the adopting of minimalistic solutions – highlights a simplicity that poignantly reflects a nation of loss. This constant interchanging of time, characters and setting reinforces the spirit of a community continuing to live. And, the audience, intended or not, are coaxed to ‘power through’ the surges, and droughts, of a zealous intensity.

Jones’ sincere, and deeply-rooted play is confirmed in the understanding of its disease. Abrupt, and ambling, scenes are a mere portal into the scattered objectives of a chaotic (real) life.

Anna Fleischle recreates all too familiar settings. Chairs striking – in their primary colours – plonked, to animate waning lives, on the uninspiring mesh of carpet. Seamlessly, a reflection of the struggle to express vividity in an increasingly taxed and drained Welsh society, as well as those plagued by Alzheimer’s, can be discovered in a tragically governmental building – a Merthyr library. Straker’s poignant projections of our green valley, its ever-present brutality, and our glorious dead, succeed in capturing the tensions of an ‘evolving’ Wales.

Before I Leave is painstakingly perceptive – yet the light never fails to pierce through its shadows. National Theatre Wales commanded the audience to their feet and left them humming.

Theatre
Before I Leave
Venue: Sherman Theatre
Dates: 27 May – 11 June, PN 31st May
Director: Matthew Dunster
Written by: Patrick Jones
Design: Anna Fleischle
Technical: Heddwyn Davies/Andy Evans (Sound), Dyfan Jones (Music), Angharad Matthews (Costume), Dick Straker (Video designer), Joe Fletcher (Lighting)
Cast includes: Desmond Barrit (Evan), Olwen Rees (Isabelle), Dafydd Hywel (Rocky), Llinos Daniel (Gemma), Martin Marquez (Joe), Melanie Walters (Dyanne) and Oliver Wood (Scott)
Running time: 2hrs 30min

Theatre

Review Before I Leave NTW by Gemma Treharne-Foose

June 3, 2016 Gemma Treharne Foose Leave a comment

(3 / 5)

It’s taken me a while to process what I saw on Tuesday night at the Sherman Theatre, Cardiff. National Theatre Wales seemed to create a sensory experience before even setting foot in the theatre space. As we settled in our seats, the lady next to me commented how much the set looked just like a nursing home – I was sure the heat of the auditorium and (I thought) faintest smell of disinfectant were part and parcel of the show – or was I imagining it? It seems I’d misjudged the show and its assumed setting before it even began.

The play won over the audience from the get-go as the characters emerge and we begin to see small vignettes and glimpses into their lives. These scenes cross over, interrupt one another and interface with their communal experience of singing in a choir. The set, beautifully designed by Anna Fleischle and her team, contextualises the rich landscape and history of the community where it is set on five digital windows, creating a vivid backdrop for the action on stage. This staging helps build up momentum and keep the play pacey and light, full of visual morsels and edgy, familiar riffs and melodies. The songs had a visible, moving effect on the audience as the connections between the songs and the choir members were played out. We see how the tangled personal lives of our loved ones are at odds with bureaucratic ‘local service providers’ and how at odds we are as a system to provide well-meaning person-centred care and support. There is one poignant moment where ex-police officer ‘Evan’ struggles to comprehend why a social worker is giving him a ‘needs assessment’ using an iPad: ”In my day, we had a pencil and a pad’, he muses while the social worker retorts: “Yes but I can see a whole street in New York LIVE if I want to…”. “Why…?” Evan says, completely exasperated by the whole thing. In that precise moment, Evan becomes our Dad, our Uncle, our Granddad…and probably us in the future, too.

Miner ‘Rocky’ is trapped in his past as an ex-picketing Collier and there is an on-going clash as Evan and Rocky dredge up previous battles fought during the Miners’ strike. Throughout the play we see dear Evan crumble as his daughter Gemma facilitates his confusion and takes advantage of his finances, causing him to lose his home and his grip on his own life and independence. We’re introduced to ex-punk Joe and his wife Dyanne who is doing her best to cope with Joe’s diagnosis of early onset Alzheimers. The first half, culminating in a rousing rendition of ‘Hurt’ by Nine Inch Nails/Johnny Cash, was tender and bittersweet.

The second half delves more in to the personal struggles of the characters as their meeting hub, the local library, is earmarked for closure as part of austerity measures (“Tory bastards!” Rocky spits out….and his frustrations with Tory Britain in the 80s seem as relevant as ever). As Joe struggles to comprehend and find words to air his frustrations, the couple clash causing Joe to lash out – there is a powerful scene between them as Joe becomes frightened and agitated and the police are called. Meanwhile, ex-librarian and Opera singer Marjorie is losing her grip on her orderly lifestyle and not even post-it notes can help her anymore. Will she be able to find her voice again?

In the second half, the pace of the play seemed to lose the hold for me slightly and lacked the initial punch of the first half. At times, the play reminded me of Jonathan Larson’s ‘Rent’ and seemed awkward in places as the scenes became longer. Rocky’s character was troubling for me. Jones clearly has a fondness for the Valleys and a clear message about their demise and future challenges. But the play does teeter very close to the edge of romanticism and sentimentality for a time when ‘everyone stood up for their rights’ and our communities were OK then. I find it awkward when the stereotype of the ‘wistful, mournful miner’ finds his way in to so many plays depicting Welsh/Valleys life (and this is coming from the Granddaughter of a Rhondda miner). There was something not quite right about the face-off between Rocky and the ‘Hoody’ who betrayed him.

That being said, the eventual coming together of Evan and Rocky was touching. They are after all, two sides of the same coin; both insecure, frightened and haunted by their past. Gemma’s treatment of her sweet Father Evan highlights the ugly side of all of us; too lacking in time, too impatient and to wrapped up in our own lives to care about the stuff that really matters. There is nothing like dementia or Alzheimer’s to drive this reality home. We see that it is all-encompassing and full of conflict for all who are touched by it. But it is a leveller, too. And we are reminded that living well is just as important as managing the condition. Exasperated by the choir’s experience at the ‘Britain’s Got Talent’ audition in Cardiff, mild-mannered Marge pipes up: “We are not SUFFERING from Alzheimer’s, we are living with it!”

The choir remind us that a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s does not mean that they ‘become’ their illness. There are shadows and small reminders that they are still there, if we care to look for them. In Isabelle’s tapping (as an ex-secretary), Ex-punk Joe not conforming when his wife wants him to get ready for an appointment: ‘Naughty boy!’ he shouts. This is what he was…and perhaps still is: a rebel at heart. We see it in the resilience and strength of character of Evan, despite being hemmed in and pressured to move in to a care home. This play is all of us. We are all Evan and Rocky and Gemma and the patronising stand-in choir director. Patrick Jones reminds us that even when the soul of a community is shut-down, threatened and it seems that all hope is lost, we are strongest when we find our community – wherever or whatever that community means to you.

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