Like a sheep following the herd I too am now using the artist support site Patreon to attempt to live off my writing, and you can be part of that process.
I've designed a very simple page being that you can only donate the smallest sum ($1) on a monthly basis in return for a copy of anything I produce, whether it be poetry, plays or novels, without any extra charge.
Having recently gained a studio I am doing more writing than I ever have done and much will come from it.
If you have enjoyed my writing on this blog over the years than I suggest that you should become an amazingly cool person and support me in creating great work.
It's an exciting step for me and thankfully the technology is there to do it, in view of the arts cuts that have happened in Britain the arts can still be supported in other ways.
And think of it in the long term, I'll develop and mature as an artist and you'll be able to say that you had a hand in that and I think that's important.
Thanks for everyone who has supported me this far, we got a long way to go but we'll stop off at a few inns along the way.
https://www.patreon.com/alistairdavidtodd
Monday, 29 April 2019
Thursday, 4 April 2019
'Night Thoughts of a Classical Physicist' by Russell McCormmach
In the last year non-fiction science books has taken my interest. Mainly it's been mathematical books and in reading them I have found that it is a deeply invigorating subject. Invigorated by the huge changes in how one approaches and what assumptions one has when dealing with the subject.
It makes me think how that mathematicians, as a whole, have been underserved in the arts, with the
only two exceptions I can bring to mind, being: A Beautiful Mind, a film starring Russell Crowe as John Nash, and Tom Stoppard's Arcadia with one of the main characters, Thomasina Coverly, being a young maths genius.
Yet there are whole scores of stories to be done about mathematicians and other scientists, as many of them involve an interesting series of events in order for them to 'discover' their insight into how mathematical processes work with human dramas in their own right.
One such story comes in the form of Night Thoughts of a Classical Physicist by Russell McCormmach, about a fictional German physicist, Victor Jakob, made up from a collage of other real life physicists, in 1918 just as the First World War comes to a close.
Jakob is a melancholy man, going through great changes in himself as the world around him changes. His country has been four years at war while his doubts about it grow and his beloved subject physics is undergoing an impressive revolution from classical physics, as he is used to understanding it and discussing it, to the more relativistic physics of Einstein.
The professor seems lost in time, given to deep pondering, forever going over events, forever trying to untangle all the knots that his subject gives for him yet he cannot help but to keep toying with such things. He is, in a sense, a man left behind. He frequently has dreams of being persecuted by his colleges and gives a feeling that he has missed the boat on the new wave of thinking. It is in part a story about ageing.
The book is theory heavy but I was unfazed as I was used to reading W. G. Sebald (I did my English Lit dissertation on him) who mixes fact and fiction in much the same way. In fact I wonder how accurate I would be if I said that McCormmach's book anticipates the more fully formed books of Sebald with it's mixture of reality, myth and melancholy, which gives the reader a type of education and a type of experience.
Also having read a lot of relatively dry science I enjoyed tackling the same problems in a more fleshed out human way, hanging the theory on hooks of characters and scenes and drama.
It may have been criticised for not being literature enough but I think in the view that using science as the meat for a novel was a relatively new way of writing about history (McCormmach was a science-history professor, similar to Sebald) I found that it was engaging enough to keep me interested, to keep me caring about this character and his 'night thoughts' of the title.
It is quite a gloomy book, so much pessimism in the war and in the general direction of physics, this is really about a man at the end of his life as much as his way of life. I think that with that and with it's physics this book probably only caters to a certain type of person, maybe even a rare one, but it's not one that is going to be adapted to the screen anytime soon.
Now this is where you hit a paywall- well not exactly a paywall more like a moat you can swim across- but what I'm saying is that if you enjoyed this blog and my previous work than you can help support me by going on Patreon.com and search for Alistair David Todd-Poet.
I only ask for the lowest possible donation ($1) so that you don't have to wake up in the middle of the night sweating about bills and tax. Two reasons I ask you of this is 1) It would mean a lot to me and 2) I can buy more books.
Another way you can support me is by buying one of the literary books that I write. The links are on the side of the website, if you are reading this from a mobile phone than switch to web mode to see it.
You can even message me with recommendations of books I should cover that I haven't already, I'd be really interested in what you have to offer me. In the meantime stay safe and all the best to you.
It makes me think how that mathematicians, as a whole, have been underserved in the arts, with the
only two exceptions I can bring to mind, being: A Beautiful Mind, a film starring Russell Crowe as John Nash, and Tom Stoppard's Arcadia with one of the main characters, Thomasina Coverly, being a young maths genius.
Yet there are whole scores of stories to be done about mathematicians and other scientists, as many of them involve an interesting series of events in order for them to 'discover' their insight into how mathematical processes work with human dramas in their own right.
One such story comes in the form of Night Thoughts of a Classical Physicist by Russell McCormmach, about a fictional German physicist, Victor Jakob, made up from a collage of other real life physicists, in 1918 just as the First World War comes to a close.
Jakob is a melancholy man, going through great changes in himself as the world around him changes. His country has been four years at war while his doubts about it grow and his beloved subject physics is undergoing an impressive revolution from classical physics, as he is used to understanding it and discussing it, to the more relativistic physics of Einstein.
The professor seems lost in time, given to deep pondering, forever going over events, forever trying to untangle all the knots that his subject gives for him yet he cannot help but to keep toying with such things. He is, in a sense, a man left behind. He frequently has dreams of being persecuted by his colleges and gives a feeling that he has missed the boat on the new wave of thinking. It is in part a story about ageing.
The book is theory heavy but I was unfazed as I was used to reading W. G. Sebald (I did my English Lit dissertation on him) who mixes fact and fiction in much the same way. In fact I wonder how accurate I would be if I said that McCormmach's book anticipates the more fully formed books of Sebald with it's mixture of reality, myth and melancholy, which gives the reader a type of education and a type of experience.
Also having read a lot of relatively dry science I enjoyed tackling the same problems in a more fleshed out human way, hanging the theory on hooks of characters and scenes and drama.
It may have been criticised for not being literature enough but I think in the view that using science as the meat for a novel was a relatively new way of writing about history (McCormmach was a science-history professor, similar to Sebald) I found that it was engaging enough to keep me interested, to keep me caring about this character and his 'night thoughts' of the title.
It is quite a gloomy book, so much pessimism in the war and in the general direction of physics, this is really about a man at the end of his life as much as his way of life. I think that with that and with it's physics this book probably only caters to a certain type of person, maybe even a rare one, but it's not one that is going to be adapted to the screen anytime soon.
Now this is where you hit a paywall- well not exactly a paywall more like a moat you can swim across- but what I'm saying is that if you enjoyed this blog and my previous work than you can help support me by going on Patreon.com and search for Alistair David Todd-Poet.
I only ask for the lowest possible donation ($1) so that you don't have to wake up in the middle of the night sweating about bills and tax. Two reasons I ask you of this is 1) It would mean a lot to me and 2) I can buy more books.
Another way you can support me is by buying one of the literary books that I write. The links are on the side of the website, if you are reading this from a mobile phone than switch to web mode to see it.
You can even message me with recommendations of books I should cover that I haven't already, I'd be really interested in what you have to offer me. In the meantime stay safe and all the best to you.
Friday, 28 December 2018
'Breakfast'
As the year wends it's way to a close I thought I'd finish it off by announcing the (self) publication of my new book, 'Breakfast'.
It's been years in the making as the idea of it started just before I joined college, when I first started to read Dante, and has been developing ever since.
This, after 'The First Man In Space', is my second book and it is a mixed media piece using theatre and film to tell the story of the group of friends who, while discussing the night out previously during their traditional breakfast, discover secrets about each other that explodes their friendship.
It can be found on the Lulu publishing website, a link provided below, as well as at the various open mics that I attend in the South West.
I hope you enjoy it and I hope you have had a favourable year, with best wishes for the coming one.
http://www.lulu.com/shop/alistair-david-todd/breakfast/paperback/product-23927763.html
Friday, 7 September 2018
Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2018
"Now who wants a fucking beer?"
Is precisely what you want to hear at your first Fringe show.
Back in Edinbugh I meet up with an old friend and we go and watch 'The Thinking Drinkers', a sitting pub crawl hosted by two knowledgeable men, Ben McFarland and Tom Sandham.
The start of the show is a gloomy one. They bring in a casket and announced that it could be soon the end of the pub. 3 pubs a day close down currently. They then transform the casket into a bar where they served themselves their drinks.
During the show the pair give you five drinks and talk about their history. Drinks such as:
12th of Never Pale Ale,
Ketel One Vodka (a dutch Vodka rather than American one as they described Donald Trump to be a 'bell-end' 'total bell-end'),
Four Pillars Rare Dry Gin,
Jameson Irish Whiskey and
Diplomatico Reserva Exclusiva Rum.
They go through each drink describing what you should taste and talk about how they originated. A fascinating look at the circumstances of how each drink was brought about. Vodka came from the saloons of the wild west, and Gin Palaces were created to make the Victorian scourge of drinking gin (a problem that was bringing Britain to it's knees) more socially acceptable and comfortable.
Two things that I learned which I can still remember are 1) the oldest building found in the world was a pub, and 2) cans are better than bottles for storing beer as the glass of the bottle lets the light in which affects the beer. Pubs are also places of revolution and dissent from all authorities.
It was entertaining and informative ('You're laughing and learning, you lucky fuckers!'), as well as drinking actual, well chosen, booze alongside them. This was an absolute delight to be a part of making me wanting to sign their petition to save the local boozer, which can be found at www.longlivethelocal.pub.
Next we go to the late night showing for my friend Adam Elliot's show 'House on Haunted Hill'. We were given ping pong balls at the start, which were mercilessly thrown at the performers throughout the show despite only needing to be used for one specific scene. The cast treats us to a horror story based on the B-movie starring Vincent Price.
Of course this is the Lampoons, previously in 'Attack of the Giant Leeches', who have a particularly mad-cap and downright bizarre way of getting humour out of their source material. The four actors make up the show with energetic slapstick and silliness give you a frenzy of jokes as they tell the story of the unsuspecting guests at the haunted house. Pure madness with some excellent set pieces, verve and determined to keep you laughing.
The next day I watched Mark Grist's 'King of Poetry', a children's show about what it would be like if he was crowned poetry King. It has a great concept and the show had some lovely poems that involved the audience. Mark had a gentle, warm presence, which became colder and meaner as he got more entitled as his character of the poetry King. Seeing the younger members of the audience join in with enthusiasm was a delight to witness.
In the late afternoon I then go to see one of my favourite poetry performers Luke Wright (who has appeared on this blog before: http://poetrykindness.blogspot.com/2018/02/the-toll-by-luke-wright.html). His show was about being Poet Laureate, as Carol Ann Duffy is set to step down from the role next year. On a smaller stage then what I'm used to see him he delivered an energetic, witty commentary in his journalistic poems about Britain and it's state.
He wonders if there should be such a thing as a 'poet laureateship' as it reflects the power structure in royalty. This is also a homage to his younger self as 'Poet Laureate' was the title of his first Edinburgh show, which is good to see as he has stuck with this particular art form and become something of a minor master of it.
Phil Jupitus, from the TV quiz show 'Never Mind the Buzzcocks', does poetry, did you know?
"35 years in the business and not a hint of a publisher. That's the quality of what you are about to hear"
As Porky the Poet he regales stories of the music business to an audience seated in small room in The Voodoo Rooms. His all embracing showmanship displays a flair for showing off and an enjoyment of making people laugh. The poems about the band Madness and his first gig were very well constructed and very funny, but just his presence alone was intoxicating enough.
As he took donations with a bucket I told him how it's great that he does poetry. And he replied, for some reason,with "Never give up", which is exactly what you want to hear in your last show in Edinburgh.
It's great to see all manner of art alive and well in Scotland and to see performers in every stage of their careers. I go up every year and hope to do so next year. See you there?
Friday, 1 June 2018
Matthew Borne's 'Cinderella'
It's not often that I find myself watching ballet. The last time I saw any contemporary dance was at Uni with a piece about 9/11, which I was stewarding. To which the stewardess that I worked with said "well, did you understand that?".
Fortunately the well worn story of Cinderella comes to us ready understood, being so well known. But this has to be told entirely through the language of dance, not a language I am well versed in. I tap dance but ballet is something else, perhaps something more elegant, softer.
This is the perception of classical ballet, full of dainty little fairies in tutus turning pirouettes to Tchaikovsky. Matthew Borne over the years has turned ballet into something more modern, more subversive and, maybe, more accessible.
The story is set during the Second World War. An upper class family have invitations to go to a dance, something that their servant girl, Cinderella, wishes she could go. The setting of the living room is cold and eerie, slightly dilapidated due to the austerity of the war. It shows a family in decline. Interrupting all this is a magical dandy of a fairy godmother who introduces sparkle in the gloom and offers Cinderella an answer to her wish. She shall go to the ball!
In the beginning there seemed to be a lack of dancing as there was more of a stylised movement, but later in the ball scene there was dancing aplenty. The dancer's accurate points of their twists and turns was captivating, indeed I didn't feel time pass. What the dancer's had to say with their bodies was controlled to allow them full expression of what the human body could achieve. This dissolved any other awareness of the world that one may have.
There wasn't the usual ballet moves that one might expect, instead there was lots of angular shapes being made and unexpected sudden gestures that surprised. This was evident in particular in the hospital scene at the end where having met Prince Charming Cinderella is separated from him and his search for her while her 'family' galloped through the corridors.
The most affecting scene in the ballet was the day after Cinderella and Prince Charming's night together where they danced away from the prying eyes of others. The morning was theirs with the possibility of owning the rest of their lives together. It was really a splendid moment that you almost wanted to leave them to privacy.
I was entranced in this performance, I thought it was remarkable work from very hard working dancers guided by a very capable director. It made me want to watch more ballet, classical and modern, so I can get more of a nuance in their art, so I can learn the language of dance.
Fortunately the well worn story of Cinderella comes to us ready understood, being so well known. But this has to be told entirely through the language of dance, not a language I am well versed in. I tap dance but ballet is something else, perhaps something more elegant, softer.
This is the perception of classical ballet, full of dainty little fairies in tutus turning pirouettes to Tchaikovsky. Matthew Borne over the years has turned ballet into something more modern, more subversive and, maybe, more accessible.
The story is set during the Second World War. An upper class family have invitations to go to a dance, something that their servant girl, Cinderella, wishes she could go. The setting of the living room is cold and eerie, slightly dilapidated due to the austerity of the war. It shows a family in decline. Interrupting all this is a magical dandy of a fairy godmother who introduces sparkle in the gloom and offers Cinderella an answer to her wish. She shall go to the ball!
In the beginning there seemed to be a lack of dancing as there was more of a stylised movement, but later in the ball scene there was dancing aplenty. The dancer's accurate points of their twists and turns was captivating, indeed I didn't feel time pass. What the dancer's had to say with their bodies was controlled to allow them full expression of what the human body could achieve. This dissolved any other awareness of the world that one may have.
There wasn't the usual ballet moves that one might expect, instead there was lots of angular shapes being made and unexpected sudden gestures that surprised. This was evident in particular in the hospital scene at the end where having met Prince Charming Cinderella is separated from him and his search for her while her 'family' galloped through the corridors.
The most affecting scene in the ballet was the day after Cinderella and Prince Charming's night together where they danced away from the prying eyes of others. The morning was theirs with the possibility of owning the rest of their lives together. It was really a splendid moment that you almost wanted to leave them to privacy.
I was entranced in this performance, I thought it was remarkable work from very hard working dancers guided by a very capable director. It made me want to watch more ballet, classical and modern, so I can get more of a nuance in their art, so I can learn the language of dance.
Wednesday, 7 March 2018
Good Brains
'It's a shame to see good brains go to waste',
Says the CAB (Citizens Advice Bureau) woman who is dealing with my PIP (Personal Independent Payment) Appeal claim after it had been cancelled on dubious evidence.
This made me think of Allen Ginsberg's 'Howl' with it's haunting first line:
'I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness...'
Which didn't make me think of myself but of someone I knew at University, and who decided to die.
How anecdotal to almost everyone has that become. We probably all knew someone who was bright, well-liked, fundamentally decent and aspired to the Good, yet who was able to give up on life without hope, sinking in a society that could no longer support them.
More than the distraction of Russian spies trying to re-surge the Cold War I would like the News to tell me about why people with good brains are being wasted. Why we end up having to do all we can to defend our benefits, why we struggle to get a foothold in the housing market and why, some of us, decide it is all too much?
This won't be polemical piece as I think politics is divisive enough but ask yourself why do these things happen to these people, and then is there anything that could make the situation better?
I'm an explorer of such questions and I don't necessarily expect easy or clear answers, but in pursuit of the question we may just find something that might work along the way. At least against the waste of life we may well feel that it's worth the journey.
Says the CAB (Citizens Advice Bureau) woman who is dealing with my PIP (Personal Independent Payment) Appeal claim after it had been cancelled on dubious evidence.
This made me think of Allen Ginsberg's 'Howl' with it's haunting first line:
'I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness...'
Which didn't make me think of myself but of someone I knew at University, and who decided to die.
How anecdotal to almost everyone has that become. We probably all knew someone who was bright, well-liked, fundamentally decent and aspired to the Good, yet who was able to give up on life without hope, sinking in a society that could no longer support them.
More than the distraction of Russian spies trying to re-surge the Cold War I would like the News to tell me about why people with good brains are being wasted. Why we end up having to do all we can to defend our benefits, why we struggle to get a foothold in the housing market and why, some of us, decide it is all too much?
This won't be polemical piece as I think politics is divisive enough but ask yourself why do these things happen to these people, and then is there anything that could make the situation better?
I'm an explorer of such questions and I don't necessarily expect easy or clear answers, but in pursuit of the question we may just find something that might work along the way. At least against the waste of life we may well feel that it's worth the journey.
Friday, 23 February 2018
'The Toll' by Luke Wright
Video for his poem The Toll.
The last time I saw performance poet Luke Wright was at the Tropicana in Weston-Super-Mare, where I gave him a post card for his trouble, with his show 'What I Learned From Johnny Bevan'.
This time round we were in Clevedon's Theatre Shop, a small intimate space where it gave Luke a tight grip on the audience as he performed some poems from his collection 'The Toll'.
Swaggering on stage he gives a high energy performance with rollicking anecdotes about Brian Eno having a Korma and conversations about Iain Duncan Smith with his dad.
He gives off a laddish air of a macho one-of-the-boys attitude but there are several sensitive moments including in the titular poem about a woman working at a toll booth.
Luke seems to be a poet that yearns and wishes there to be a coherent identity to England, a land he loves and tussles with, with his connection to one of the most English of poets John Betjeman. Indeed with the way that Luke entertains he could arguably be considered as an heir to the man who wrote about teacakes and tennis. Luke is not only interested in the England of now but also of the England of the past.
There's a poem about a man in Georgian times who decides to eat what he likes when he likes, which involves a lot of Oysters being shucked and a lot of prison arrests that has no rehabilitative effect. Apparently the news, in those times, were sung as poems on street corners. Luke muses on the lovely voice that Huw Edwards must have.
Iain Duncan Smith (a 'shyster' in Luke's opinion) is used in a poem reflecting austerity by using only his initials for the beginning of each word. This shows the robust flexibility of the English language that Luke exploits time and again.
It's a lot of fun and certainly not as harrowing as 'Johnny Bevan' but it does reflect a nation still divided, still arguing, with the desire for wholeness and healing. Luke does a fantastic job at raconteur and public poet, hectoring when necessary and then bringing the whole audience into a secret that he allows us to be in on.
He does a new show every year and this year he is touring with his new verse play 'Frankie Vah'. You can see where he is playing next here.
In my opinion we live in one of the greatest times for poetry and will performers such as Luke Wright it will continue to be so for a good long time to come.
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