London Art Fair

London Art Fair

18 – 22 January 2012

Business Design Centre, Islington

London Art Fair, the UK’s largest art fair for Modern British and contemporary art returns, with over 100 galleries featuring the great names of the 20th century alongside exceptional recent work, from leading figures and emerging talent.

Highlights of the 24th London Art Fair will include:

Main Fair

Galleries from across the UK and overseas will be exhibiting the work of over 1,000 artists covering the period from the early 20th Century to the present day. Museum quality Modern British art is presented alongside contemporary art from today’s leading artists.

Art Projects

Established as one of the most exciting sections of the Fair, Art Projects features solo shows, curated group displays and large-scale installations from contemporary artists and galleries across the world. New to Art Projects in 2012 are Beers.Lambert Contemporary Art, Edel Assanti, Hoxton Art Gallery, Limoncello Editions, Michael Klein, Tenderpixel and Whatiftheworld.

Photo50

A showcase for contemporary photography established in 2007, Photo50 features 50 works presented in an exhibition curated by Sue Steward.

Photography Focus Day, Wednesday 18 January 2012

Featuring a series of discussions and tours dedicated to contemporary photography.

Tours, Talks and Discussions

An extensive programme of talks and critical debates in association with key partners, plus daily tours of the Main Fair and Art Projects.

London Art Fair tickets are now on sale at £11 (plus £1.50 booking fee) in advance, including a copy of the 2012 Fair Guide (to be collected at the Fair). Tickets on the door are £16.

For a full list of galleries and the latest London Art Fair news visit: www.londonartfair.co.uk

Frost Book Reviews: Cathy Glass, The Night The Angels Came

Cathy Glass has written eleven books, this is the first one I have read. She has been a foster carer for over 20 years and this book is based on a true story. It tells the story of a boy called Michael who’s widower father is terminally ill, and whose mother died when he was younger. Cathy has two young children of her own and is going through a divorce, can she put her family though even more heartache?

The book is well written in a factual way. The subject matter is heavy, but it is still a book with moments of lightness and happiness. The young boy that Cathy fosters is only eight and about to lose his last remaining parent, Michael comes from a catholic family and believes that when the time comes, angels will come and take his father away to be with his mother in heaven.

The Night The Angels Came is a heart-warming book, with real life observations that make you nod in agreement. The fact that it is a real life story makes it even more sad. Cathy Glass is a good writer, with years of experience on the subject that she writes. This book is definitely worth a read.

The Night the Angels Came is out now and is published by HarperCollins.

Richmond Question Time With Zac Goldsmith

Time
20 September · 19:30 – 21:30

Location
Duke Street Church, Duke Street, Richmond, Surrey, TW9 1DH

My friend Ben Mallet worked on Zac Goldsmith’s political campaign and is a member of the Richmond Conservative Future, He invited me to a cross party Question Time debate, I am a political junkie so, of course, I went.

The MPs who took part were Zac Goldsmith MP – Chairing and Hosting, Sam Gyimah MP – Conservative Party, Nigel Farage MEP – UKIP Leader, Serge Lourie – Lib Dem, Former leader of Richmond Council for 9 years , Emily Thornberry MP – Labour Party, Brian Denny – Trade Unionists Against the EU Constitution convenor.

It was a brilliant event, put together by young people interested in politics and making a difference. I had a chat with Nigel Farage who promised Frost a interview. Farage came across as incredibly intelligent and well spoken, as did Sam Gyimah, although he got a lot of negativity for being a Tory. Quote of the night came from Emily Thornberry, who was asked about Labour’s time in power and how much debt they had racked up with the Iraq war, she stated: “We went into debt on purpose”. Which is unfortunate, as it is the rest of the country that is paying for it now.

Nigel Farage revealed he had had death threats against him when the talk turned to a homeowners right protecting their own property and Goldsmith asked him if would have a gun in his house if he lived in America, Farage said: “What makes you think I don’t have a gun in my house in this country?”. Serge Lourie defended faith schools, stating that both he and his children had went to one. All in all, a good lively debate. The main thing I took away was how angry people are about the current world situation.

I asked Goldsmith for his comments on how the evening went: “It was the first QT event in Richmond, and seems to have gone down very well. The audience was uncharacteristically lively, and having been a temporary imposter, my respect for the real David Dimbleby has doubled. We had a diverse and high profile panel, and I hope we’ll be able to replicate the success on other occasions. Huge congratulations to the CF team”.

Have You Seen… Five Documentaries to Seek Out (Part Three)

Charles Rivington asks the immortal question: Do all dogs go to heaven?

 

I stated way back in part one that I was going to present this list in no particular order. Having said that I have saved my favourite feature length documentary by my favourite documentarian for last and written so much about it that I’ve had to give it an article in its own right. Oh well…

 

Gates of Heaven (1978)

 

Throughout the first two parts of this three-part article and through these four brilliant films, I have touched on some very challenging issues: war, mental illness and suicide, child molestation and the disintegration of a family, the birth of the movies. It therefore might seem somewhat anti-climatic, perhaps even rather disrespectful to have as my final entry a film about pet cemeteries. Surely a documentary about people batty enough to spend large amounts of money giving Fido a proper burial can only ever be mildly amusing (in a sort of ‘ha ha, she thinks he’s people’ kind of a way) or perhaps even just a bit pathetic. Surely, it can’t be one of the greatest and most profound works about mortality, loneliness and the human condition ever made, right?

 

Wrong. Errol Morris’ Gates of Heaven is, quite simply and quite literally, an incredible film. It’s the sort of film you could watch every day for the rest of your life and it would still be deeply rewarding. Throughout this article I’ve touched on what I believe makes a great documentary and I’ve suggested two things. Firstly, I’ve stated that a great documentary should be impartial and force the audience to form their own judgements

An enthusiastic pet owner.

without telling them what to think.  Because of Morris’ unobtrusive style and the fact that he lets his subjects speak for themselves and is neither nor seen nor heard throughout the entire film (Michael Moore could certainly learn from him), Gates of Heaven does this so effectively that that at any given moment of the film one section of the audience might be in tears while another suppresses giggles. Secondly, I have suggested that the great documentary will often take a subject and use it as a springboard to touch upon much broader or challenging themes. Gates of Heaven is a movie about freaking pet cemeteries that deals head on with humankind’s most terrifying and impossible question: that of its own mortality and solitude. This is truly the stuff of genius. It is one of the greatest documentaries of all time, by one of the greatest documentarians of all time and quite frankly one of the greatest films of all time. It’s also one of my favourites.

 

     Gates of Heaven takes as its inspiration the story of the exhumation and transportation of 450 pets from one cemetery to anotherThis fascinating and odd story is used to shape the film, which is structurally little more than a series of talking heads, into two halves. The first of these focuses on the story of Floyd “Mac” McClure, a paraplegic man who had dreamt of building a pet cemetery after the death of his childhood dog, and uses interviews with pet owners and investors in order to explore how his dream briefly became a reality. Particularly memorable interviewees include Mac’s rival, the owner of the local rendering plant who attempts to defend his unglamorous profession to hilarious effect, and a woman who holds conversations with her dog.  Most of Morris’ subjects have their eccentricities, and the film is not short of humour, but he has a unique skill for looking beyond these to the humanity below, frequently unearthing

Devastating

accounts of loss and loneliness. The story of the failure of Mac’s cemetery is a particularly resonant example of these and the tragedy of the matter is that this compassionate man was unable to translate his dream and his passion into a workable business.  It is a tragedy that occurs daily but that does not make it any less heart breaking and I imagine that it will resonate with many people, perhaps even more so now than in 1978. The final shot of Mac sitting in his wheelchair under a willow tree, surveying the former site of his failed cemetery is entirely devastating, a perfect, wordless evocation of loneliness and despair and a prime example of Morris’s subtle and unobtrusive early style.

 

 

Florence Rasmussen sits on her stoop.

At the film’s centre, acting as a kind of transitional moment between the two distinct halves, is a monologue by an elderly woman named Florence Rasmussen. It is truly one of the most bizarre, moving and hilarious few minutes of any film I have ever seen. Sitting on her stoop outside her house, which overlooks Mac’s cemetery, this fascinating woman recounts her baffling life story in short bursts, constantly contradicting herself as she attempts to explain her troubled relationship with her son. In another’s hands this might have come across as exploitative or condescending and it is abundantly clear that Rasmussen could easily have been mocked as a stereotypical madwoman. Morris’ camera however does not judge, merely records and the entire film is mercifully devoid of any cruel reality tv editing or Louis Theroux-style winks to the audience. Instead Florence is allowed to speak for herself and the result is a frustrating, funny and ultimately sad meditation on one woman’s delusion and loneliness. It is a stunning monologue and one that, as Roger Ebert states, ‘William Faulkner or Mark Twain would have wept with joy to have created.’ And yet, it is reality. It is reality, in its most pure, unedited and unscripted form. Sometimes real life truly is stranger than fiction.

 

 

A funeral at Bubbling Wells

The film’s focus then moves to The Bubbling Well Pet Memorial Park, which is run by the Harberts family. Patriarch Cal is a lot more ambitious and business savvy than Mac but shares his compassion for animals and has even built a church in order to celebrate God’s love for pets. His wife Scottie shares this view stating that, ‘God is not going to say, well, you’re walking in on two legs, you can go in. You’re walking in on four legs, we can’t take you.’ Although clearly successful in their business endeavours, the Harbarts family also harbours some unhappiness and this is particularly obvious in their sons Danny and Philip who both left their other lives (college and a job as an insurance salesman) to come back to the family business.

 

 

A bereaved couple reminisces in Gates of Heaven

There is one moment from this second half of the film that never fails to move me: a long silent montage of the headstones at Bubbling Well. If I had seen it on it’s own without the benefit of the rest of the film, I admit that it would probably have left me cold and it is true that some of the inscriptions are at first glance rather trite, silly even (‘God spelled backwards is dog’ etc). However after 80 minutes spent in the company of animal lovers and grieving pet owners and hearing them express their loneliness and grief, these inscriptions become a profound articulation of a universal and fundamental need for companionship and love. One of them reads ‘I knew love: I knew this Dog’ while another simply reads ‘For saving my life’. It is clear that there are stories behind each of these inscriptions, heart-breaking, heart-warming stories behind every headstone, stories about what it means to be alive, what it means to love and what it means to experience profound loss. They are stories about what it means to be human. Gates of Heaven merely touches on a few of these stories and in doing so it earns its place as one of the greatest documentary films of all time.

 

 

Gates of Heaven is currently available on DVD as part of ‘The Errol Morris Collection’ box set along with Vernon, Florida and The Thin Blue Line, which are both excellent.

 

 

 

CHARIOT OF HOPE—CYCLE OF CHANGE

The Young Indian Socialist on Wheels

By Frank Huzur in Lucknow-Kanpur –Indian heartland.

Charisma is a sparkle in people that money can’t buy. It’s an invisible energy with visible effects.”

— Marianne Williamson

He may not be Harrison Ford. But he is surely James Dean. The rebel with a cause for socialist celebre! And, his name is Akhilesh Yadav, the young Indian socialist titan who is charioting the revolutionary socialist wheels on dusty roads of India’s largest population province of Uttar Pradesh.

Chariots of Fire is a 1981 British sports drama film. It is a story of two athletes who compete in the 1924 Paris Olympics. Eric Liddel, a devout Scottish Christian runs for the glory of God and Harold Abrahams, a British Jew runs to bury the wheels of prejudice and discrimination. The film surprised critics by winning seven Academy Awards. Little wonder, Chariots of Fire, has become 19th most famous film in the British Film Institute’s list of top 100 British films in history of cinema. For those who have liking for poetic justice, the title of the film was inspired by the poem of William Blake, Bring me my chariot of Fire! It is the same Blake whose prophetic poetry and painting shaped the imagination of boys and girls of the Romantic Age in London of eighteenth century.

Blake’s verses were tickling my senses to cast a glance at the wheel of a chariot in heart of Lucknow, the Capital of Uttar Pradesh where I had chosen to be in search of witnessing a history of earthly colours. Lucknow is seat of erstwhile Persian glory and could easily qualify as Lahore of northern India in etiquette and courtly reputation.

Politics of Chariot in India has a prophetic tryst. People remember the rolling of one chariot of fire in winter of 1990 which ended up fanning the flames of hatred against about 200 million Muslims of India. That was L K Advani-led Chariot which had a Muslim driver but it ended engineering blood-thirsty hatred against Muslims across the country. It is a nightmare of post-Independent politics of India. About three years ago, India’s socialist titan, Mualayam Singh Yadav had undertaken a chariot journey of socialist orientation and it had stormed the villages and towns and triggered a string of idioms of resistance and protest politics. So much so that Advani had no hesitation in emulating it with his own discriminatory dose of chalk and cheese. Fear and anguish was hanging in the air of every Muslim homes of Indian nation. Hundreds perished in the communal frenzy. Politics is a blood sport.

It is sunny September morning on 12 September 2011. Painting the socialist country red is the blast of exuberant cries of ‘Hail Socialism’ on smiling and shouting faces of young and old alike. The reason for the congregation of a large number of young men and women is the inauguration of a motorised socialist chariot journey, Kraanti Rath Yatra, the charioteer of which is a young socialist icon, Akhilesh Yadav. Just as the average height as Rahul Gandhi is, ashen faced and robust in his expression of smile and satisfaction, Akhilesh alias Tipu breezes past the swarming crowd. When I cast a glance at the chariot of socialist revolution it is glimmering in blood-red hues of miniature designs of cycle after cycle on the rectangle floor of the motor bus. Here is the tech-savvy socialist. A quick glance reveals his fancy for state-of-art public address system staring into the crowd on hoot of the motor bus. So is the sight of the music box belting out socialist songs cut to the beat and rhythm of Bollywood music. The interior of the sophisticated chariot is pulsating with plasma screen, laptop tuned into internet dongles manned by his acolytes VJ Chauhan, Anurag Saxena, Rahul Bhasin, Naved Siddique, a Radio Jockey and Gazendar Singh and others, deluxe sofas for reclining in peace, toilet on wheels and the hydraulic lift to catapult the socialist icon on the metal roof of the rath as and when the campaign stops.

Chariots are central to Indian and also Persian mythology. Most of the gods in the pantheon can be seen riding them. The Sanskrit word for a chariot is Ratha, a collective ‘reth’ to a Proto-Indo-European word ‘roto’ for ‘wheel’ that also resulted in Latin rota and is also known from Germanic, Celtic and Baltic.

A huge mass of crowds, with red cap sitting prettily on their skull and red and green socialist flags with picture of socialist Patriarch Mulayam Singh Yadav fluttering out of the slim bamboo staff in their hands, are cheering the young socialist Akhilesh Yadav on the green lawns of Socialist Party headquarters: 19, Vikramaditya Marg, less than kilometre of the residence of Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister, 5-Kalidas Marg.

The young socialist smiles and waves his right hands in acknowledgement of the cheering crowd.

In the middle of September 1987, his father, Mulayam Singh Yadav who was just a member of state legislature at the time with penchant for street fighting for the cause of poor Indian peasantry, had sowed the seeds of revolutionary socialism through his debutant journey on wheels. Chaudhary Charan Singh, ex-Prime Minister of India addressed Mulayam Singh as ‘Little Napoleon’ of India. A couple of years later, he would be sworn in as the chief minister of Uttar Pradesh when Rajeev Gandhi would lose power to Vishwanath Pratap Singh in New Delhi for the hot seat of Prime Minister. The young son who is less than forty years of age and younger to Congress crown prince Rahul Gandhi, is being egged on by socialist stalwarts, Mohan Singh, Braj Bhushan Tiwari, Azam Khan and his uncle Shivpal Singh and patriarch father Mulayam Singh, to repeat the historical act of overthrowing the ruling party and pave the way for return of Samajwadi Party (Socialist) to power in Lucknow.

Just as Mulayam Singh Yadav flagged off the Kraanti Rath for the first round of three-day roll around 150 km stretch circling textile town of Kanpur, Unnao and strings of rural townships, the bugle of transferring the rein to young socialist ahead of crucial 2012 springtime Assembly elections is also sounded. Akhilesh knows the heavy weight of expectations and responsibilities thrust on his shoulders. He has done it in the past when he left Sydney after securing a master’s degree in environment engineering to learn the ideals and principles of socialism walking the dusty village roads, fields of paddy and wheat and orchards of mangoes in the province. Today, he is a member of Indian Parliament in lower house, House of Commons, Lok Sabha from Kannauj and is also the president of State Samajwadi Party in Uttar Pradesh. His baptism in national politics is over a decade old since 1999 debut. Hardly any village is left to tread for the young man where he has not left his footprint as he has cycled over thousand kilometres in search of joy and sorrow of the ordinary folks.

The cycle atop his sports utility vehicle Pajero follows the motorised chariot. The cycle is the symbol of Indian socialist party, the weapon of change for Akhilesh who cycles out of much passion and determination while exhorting hundreds of young workers to set the pace alongside him.

The chariot on wheels roll past the stone memorials of Dalit icons, including statues of serving chief minister Maywati who is fighting the swelling armies of disenchanted people in the province over charges of monstrous corruption. Her discredited regime further swells the size of crowd on roadside waiting to welcome the chariot of young socialist politician. A caravan of young biker is speeding ahead of the chariot, screaming in delightful renting of socialist slogans. It is quite a spectacle with young boys looking spirited in their moment of reckoning as their red cap shimmers in the shining September Sun.

One of the first stops of Akhilesh is just in front of the Ambedkar Park housing hundreds of elephants in stone. The Elephant Castle! He emerges on the top of the roof through hydraulic lift to the wild cheers of the crowd. Some pelts marigold and rose on him in greeting as others are dancing in the middle of the road to the beat of socialist songs. The red cap is adorning the crown of young socialist. He breaks into his cry for the revolutionary change.

Revolution is a noun in the part of speech. It is different from rebellion. It is neither debacle nor uprising. A rebellion is open resistance to a government or authority whereas revolution is a rebellion that succeeds in overthrowing the government and establishing a new one. The young socialist is wheeling on his chariot for revolution.

He roars, “I want you all, brothers and sisters, to overthrow the corrupt, ego-maniac and stone-hearted regime of Mayawati-led Bahujan Samaj Party (BSP). She takes pride in being a daughter of Dalit. Does she bother about the miserable plight of her Dalit sisters when she sends her private jet to bring sandals from Bombay? A dalit girl is victim of rape every hour in the province yet she lives in luxury and pomp. Nowhere in the world does any politician order erection of their own statue but she has the audacity to get herself sculpted in her lifetime. Forget her own sculpture she has wasted your hard-earned money in sculpting over 2000 elephants, each elephant statue costing 10 million rupees!”

The crowd cheers in rising crescendo. Old men and women stares into him to steal a glimpse of the young man. The caravan moves ahead to reiterate the pledge at the next stop which is not more than a kilometre away. Hundreds of people go on walking up and down in the front and the back of the chariot, making it crawl-like-cockroach at a snail’s pace. The socialist songs blaring out of the record keeps the marching socialist supporters in high spirit. A vast crowd of young boys and girls trailing before the young socialist are not walking without any reasons. The previous socialist governments under Mulayam Singh was disbursing unemployment allowance to young boys and girls and also offering special incentives to young girls. It is called ‘Kanya Vidhya Dhan (Special fund for Girls’ education) and unemployment allowance to jobless youths. There is special yearning for the same amongst majority of youth because the Mayawati government scrapped the social welfare programme out of discriminatory prejudice.

I can relate the marching columns of socialist caravan with the Long March of Pakistani lawyers under the leadership of chief justice Iftikhar Muhammad Chaudhry. Imran Khan, playboy-turned-politician had turned the light brigade in Pakistan at the time. The once deposed chief justice had taken the country by storm through his more than one Long Marches from Lahore to Islamabad and Khyber to Karachi while galvanising around tens of thousands of lawyers to rally around him against military regime of General Pervez Musharraf. Musharraf was a dictator loved and hated in equal proportion in his country. The ruling head of Uttar Pradesh is widely perceived in democratic polity as a dictator with much contempt for democratic transparency in her functioning.

Indeed, Akhilesh feels divinely inspired when he hops over his cycle or he is running to shakes hand with surging crowd of supporters. He is a fitness fanatic and his lithe, urbane disposition makes him agile like an athlete as other workers struggle to catch up with his pace. There is a spring in his steps.

He would tell me, “I believe that I am born with a divine purpose. I am fast, and when I run, I feel divinity presence in propelling my pleasure walk.”

The years of dedication and training are paying the dividends. Socialist ideals and principles hang around his neck like a millstone. He grew up watching his patriarch socialist father whenever he could catch up with him during summer and winter vacations in Saifai green meadows, mingling with peasants, labourers and poor city folks like his near and dears. His father is elder statesman of Indian socialist politics. A man for all seasons! He follows his conscience. He renew his strength by taking a quick nap on the campaign trails and then springs back to his steps to mount up a fresh charge as if he were mounting up with wings as eagles. He runs and never feels weary. He walk and never faint.

When a young adolescent or pre-adolescent child appears near his shoulder, he raises his right and left hand to pat the back and shoulder of the young boys like an elder brother. Quite a good number of them are awestruck about the glistening walls of the chariot whereas others are charged up to touch him just as hundreds of thousands appear to touch the apron strings of Sonia Gandhi and her crown prince Rahul Gandhi in the dust swirls of heartland villages.

Akhilesh Yadav is a clear favourite in province of Uttar Pradesh to lead and he beats Rahul Gandhi phenomenon by a long mile in popularity. The young socialist exudes confidence when he says, “I think about smiles and tears of my people every single day. I spend three hundred days in villages and towns of Uttar Pradesh whereas Rahul ji only visits for 60-65 days. Still later, I wish Rahul Gandhi succeed in doing something remarkable for the people. I want him to perform better. I’ve respect for him.”

Rahul phenomenon has been much of a widely televised spectacle as and when scion of the Gandhi dynasty ventured to read the pulse of people. Whether the spectacle included spending the night on string cot of a Dalit woman or claiming in fury of Bhatta Parsaul on the fringe of Delhi that women were raped and molested with dozens of poor buried in bone fry of ash stones! The corporate Indian media has not been equally benevolent with the socialist icon. Like his Prime Minister father Rajeev Gandhi, Rahul also comes across as a reluctant politician and has struggled to floor the audience with hypnotising public address. Even the Wikileaks cable reveals Rahul doesn’t enjoy public meetings. However, sincerity does ooze in his talk but that is not enough to sway the masses which demands theatrics and rhetoric laced with witty remarks and pungent humour.

When the socialist chariot wheels into textile city of Kanpur cantonment, the young socialist is swarmed by hundreds of thousands of Muslim men and women. A bunch of bouquet and wheel-size rose and tulip and marigold garland are furled in the air. Some land on the target, ashen-neck of the young socialist whereas some fall flat on the glittering roof of the motor chariot.

The state of Uttar Pradesh boasts of 22 per cent of Muslim population. There are as many as 150 constituencies out of 403-strong UP Assembly which is under the direct influence of Muslim voters who only decide whom to send to the floor of the Assembly. For over past two decades and especially after the demolition of Babri Mosque by army of fanatic and militant Hindutva workers under direct insinuation of the then BJP-led government, Muslims of not only Uttar Pradesh (Northern Province) but also the rest of India have felt safe and sound under the wings of socialist patriarch Mulayam Singh Yadav. Kalyan Singh was the chieftain of the communal BJP government, who acted on sly in demolition of the Babri Masjid whereas the New Delhi central government was headed by PV Narsimha Rao, only the first non-Gandhi family Prime Minister to complete the full tenure.

It is worth mentioning that the Socialist Party of India-Samawadi Party was founded a month ahead of the demolition of the Babri Mosque on 6 December 1992. It was November without rain when the socialists of India gathered together at Hazrat Mahal park in Lucknow to pledge their ambition and aspirations under the charismatic leadership of Mulayam Singh Yadav and others. The Socialism received a new lease of life.

The young socialist in Akhilesh knows it quite well how the politics of his land changed for ever. It was his father who had ordered police firing on the marauding Hindu-caste Kar Sevaks in dying days of October 1990 and thus saved the disputed structure. Mulayam Singh was the chief minister of Uttar Pradesh at the time. His famous refrain, ‘Koi Parinda bhi par nahi mar payenga’ (I will not allow even a bird to flutter near the dome of Babri Mosque) became the stuff of legend in homes and hearths of Muslim across India. The same constituency of late has been reportedly drifting away from the socialists in mystifying circumstances. The divide and rule doctrine and indeed certain decisions have plagued the solidarity. Even so, emergences of quite a few parties like Peace Party and Ulema Council with Muslim faces who have been walking the Muslim quarters with the lofty ambitions of winning their lost glories are also contributing to pool of confusion in largely neglected and deprived quarters of Muslims. However, the characters heading these groups are alleged to be prop up of Hindu-caste communal and vested groups and they don’t have wherewithal or charisma to guide or lead or for that matter win any seats on their own. At the most, they are prancing in the battlefield only to eat into crucial Muslim votes. So far as any analysis of the delicate pole-position comes to the surface it only indicates a sinister agenda at work to spoil the party of Socialist candidates who are more ideally placed to defend the Muslim homes and hearths.

Are Muslims really drifting away from their once cherished party-Socialist Party of India or Samajwaadi Party? I spoke to Rizwan Solanki and Hasan Roomi in the sprawling and historic Phool Bag, formerly Queen Victoria Garden, ground of Kanpur (Cawnpore) in the simmering afternoon of 13 September. Phool Bag is an historic ground with whoever of little political consequence must conduct their political rituals there as has been established tradition since the British days. Akhilesh Yadav was addressing the huge crowd of cyclists in their red cap and flag fluttering from their handles from atop the roof of the Kraanti Rath. The young socialist was expected to alight from the motorised chariot and join other workers, including local candidates Haji Irfran Solanki and Hasan Roomi on the dais but the dais was uprooted and ransacked in middle of the night by local administration for apparent reasons. Socialists have become habituated of such uncivil interference in Mayawati’s prejudiced regime. Rizwan is a stocky, a little pot-bellied young man in his early twenties. He smiles the smile of an adolescent pregnant with image of a shy boy and tells me, ‘Muslims in Kanpur are socialists. Capitalism or communism doesn’t enchant them. They don’t want to think about any other political formations, let alone Peace Party or whatever. Akhilesh Yadav is our leader and we want him to take on the mantle of Chief Minister after February 2012 Assembly elections.”

Akhilesh disembarked from the deluxe interiors of motorised chariot and leads a team of over thousands of cyclists as he goes on cycling for next twenty three kilometres into heart of Unnao, an industrial district carved out of Kanpur. I see hundreds of cyclists panting and fumbling in the scorching sun, including Irfan Solanki, a UP Legislative Assembly member and a candidate in the elections, but not the young socialist who is unfazed by the heat and dust of the not so handsome roads. He goes on peddling like a pied piper of his socialist army, sweating bucketful of toxic yet smiling like a champion Tour-de France cyclist Lance Armstrong. While the rhythm of race reaches its pace, there are scores of youngsters and old men alike who want to whistle near him and prod the running battery of photographers to shoot a picture for their walls.

When the chariot wheels was dusting down the narrow metalled stretch of Muslim bastion of Miangan, Hasanganj and Hafizabaad in Bangarmau between Unnao and Lucknow borders, the crowd was turning in and out in its instinctive strength to register its presence on both sides of the divide. It was Takia square and I could see the bold letters sculpted into masthead of a stone and cement gate, Ashfaqullah Khan memorial gate. The chariot grinds to halt. Hundreds of thousands clap in chorus and rents the sky with socialist slogan to receive the young socialist Akhilesh Yadav. I get hold of a Muslim gentleman in his forties and ask his name. His skull cap is missing but his flowing beards are neatly hanging down his robust chin. There are wrinkles creasing his forehead. When he smiles, his teeth are a little mashed up to portray the picture of a seasoned community campaigner. He blurts out without further delay-Raes Ahmed. I poke him again and ask him why is he here to welcome the socialist chariot. He told me, “Mulayam Singh Yadav has been saviour to Muslims of India. Now, his son is amongst us. He is more promising in his outlook. Akhilesh is not only a Chief Ministerial material, but he is a Prime Ministerial material. What Mulayam couldn’t achieve in his lifetime his socialist son would achieve. This young man is messianic. He is a deliverer, preserver and redeemer. All of us Muslims believe him and tasted him. He replies to even an ordinary workers’ phone call like his father. There have been numerous occasions when we troubled him in middle of the night and he was not sleeping.”

The chariot of fire and socialist resolve rolls on the village road breezing past small hamlets surrounded by popcorn, wheat and maize fields. I see the young socialist chatting animatedly with his team of young tech-savvy planners and campaigners, most of them are upper-caste Hindu socialists. For long, his father and the party has been criticised in certain urban pockets of Delhi and Bombay for being the party beholden to his own strong agriculturist clan of Yadavas and Muslims, yadavas who share common descent with famous king Porus who won the battle of wits with Alexander the Great in the epic battle on the banks of Sutlez and Indus. This charge might sits pretty with Lalu Prasad in Bihar banks but not with the Socialist comrades in Uttar Pradesh. The social engineering of young socialist is complete and his team has as many members from Brahmin, the priestly and top-of-the-Hindu pyramid as he has from kshatriya, kayasths, traders Vaishyas, Muslims and any other segments, including Dalits and other other segments of society. He knows the art of integration more than Rahul Gandhi. There are more than six thousands divisions in the Hindu-caste fold and each caste has more than hundred divisions in their folds, including the Brahamans.

This is young Indian socialist Akhilesh who knows the soil of his farm lands and can tell with the authority of an agricultural scientist which season will yield what particular variety of crops. His degree in environmental science is of handsome utility to him in his socialist politics and he is making great use of the craft he learnt in Australian University. Farmers are nation builder in his heart and he values their judgement and native wisdom more than anybody else. Like father like son.

(Frank Huzur is an author, poet and playwright. He is biographer of Imran Khan. Imran Versus Imran-The Untold Story is his latest non-fiction. Also view www.frankhuzur.com. He can be contacted at frankhuzur@live.co.uk)

Have You Seen… Five Documentaries To Seek Out (Part Two)

   

This is the second part of my list of five documentaries that I love and hope that you will discover and love too. The first part, in which I lurch from historical curios to sexual fetishes and underground comics, can be found here: Part One.

 

The Sorrow and The Pity (1969)

 

Perhaps due to its appearance as an anti-date movie in Annie Hall, Marcel Ophuls’ The Sorrow and The Pity is often unfairly relegated to the punch line of jokes about gruelling and dull ways to spend an evening. It’s true that Ophuls’ film is a pretty mammoth undertaking but for those willing to persevere it can also be an immensely rewarding one. Filmed in 1969 (although not released until 1981 due to objections from the French government) and clocking in at a mammoth 251 minutes, Le chagrin et la pitié (to give it its French title) is an in-depth look at the behavior of the inhabitants of the French town of Clermont-Ferrand during Nazi occupation.

 

In a sense The Sorrow and the Pity could almost be watched as a companion piece to Albert Camus’

A striking poster for the film.

powerful1947 novel La Peste, which deals with the same subject by using disease as a metaphor for occupation and I will admit that having this book in the back of my mind certainly helped me clarify my experience of this gargantuan film. There is a famously enigmatic quote at the end of this novel, ‘What we learn in time of pestilence [is] that there are more things to admire in men than to despise.’ It is The Sorrow and The Pity’s inability to either confirm or deny this statement that makes it so compelling and the audience is forced to try (and fail) to make the moral judgments that the film so stubbornly avoids.

 

     The Sorrow and The Pity is split into two parts. The first of these, entitled The Collapse focuses on the French Resistance and particularly on Pierre Mendès-France, a Jewish political figure who was a key member of this group. The second, entitled The Choice, presents us with the other side of the coin recounting the story of Nazi collaboration particularly that of Christian de la Mazière, a member of the upper classes who fought under the banner of Fascism. As well as these key figures and other well-known persons (including British primeminister Anthony Eden), Ophuls also spoke with the ordinary townspeople who were faced with the impossible choice of collaboration or resistance. This puts a very human face on this grueling situation and by the film’s close you really do feel as if you have lived among these haggard, corrupt, heroic and deeply relatable people in their little town of Clermont-Ferrand. Perhaps the most remarkable and uncomfortable thing about the film is it’s lack of moral judgments particularly given the film’s relative proximity (just over twenty years) to the events it describes. Anthony Eden provides us with perhaps the most useful way of processing this when he states that, ‘One who has not suffered the horrors of an occupying power has no right to judge a nation that has.’ By the end of The Sorrow and The Pity it is impossible to argue with him and we realize that this is perhaps the closest we’ll get to an understanding of Camus’ inscrutable sentiment.

 

The Sorrow and the Pity is currently available on region 2 DVD and is well worth setting aside time to watch.

 

 

Capturing the Friedmans (2004)

 

The Friedmans celebrate during happier times.

Arnold and Elaine Friedman and their three sons were pretty much your archetypal middle class family living in a small town in upstate New York in the 1980s. He was an upbeat and well-liked teacher who ran a computer class out of their basement while she was a hardworking housewife whose rather serious demeanour made her the butt of her husband and three sons’ high-spirited jokes. Like many upwardly mobile families of the period, their favourite pastime was recording their mundane yet happy lives on their personal video camera (a relatively new innovation at this time).  They were content, down to earth and almost aggressively normal, like a Jewish 80s Cleavers. All this came crashing down in November 1987 when their typical suburban house was raided after Arnold was accused of molesting several children in his computer class. Extraordinarily, the family did not give up their beloved hobby and continued to record every tense discussion and blistering argument on videotape as more and more allegations were made, son Jesse was accused and their family began to disintegrate.

 

Andrew Jarecki’s Capturing the Friedmansassembles this startling footage and intercuts it with interviews

The accusations tore the family apart

with the family, police and victims. What makes the films so gripping is that it is cast in the mould of a thriller with each new piece of evidence or witness testimony contradicting something that the audience had earlier been convinced was fact. The result of this is that you are never really sure of anything except the truly subjective nature of truth and, by the film’s close, it is almost impossible to make any definitive judgements about Arnold and, to a larger degree, Jesse’s guilt. This style is undoubtedly effective and makes the film breathtakingly gripping. However, its moral implications have opened it up to some justified criticism and it is hard to watch the film in the same way now that news has emerged that Jarecki (who had previously declared himself to be impartial) actually funded Jesse Friedman’s appeal.

 

What earns Capturing the Friedmans a place on this list though is it’s unique, self-documented insight into a family in turmoil; the way each family member deals with the traumatic events is a master class in psychology and it is staggering to consider why on earth they chose to film themselves going through this horrible ordeal. Elaine Friedman is perhaps the most fascinating character in this respect, the seemingly emotionally fenced-off wife who was oblivious to her husband and son’s crimes. She is also arguably the most sympathetic of the Friedmans and it is heartbreaking to watch as her family continues to favour their father, frequently taking sides against Elaine even after he is prosecuted for the most despicable crimes. A great documentarian will often start with one subject and allow it to develop organically into something entirely different. This is certainly the case with this film, which started out life when Jarecki interviewed son David Friedman, who is a clown by profession, for a documentary he was making on children’s entertainers in New York City. That this light-hearted film spawned  Capturing The Friedmans is as intriguing as it is darkly ironic.

 

Capturing The Friedman’s is currently available on Region 2 DVD and come with a wealth of special features including Jarecki’s ‘Just a Clown’, the documentary on New York clowns that introduced him to David Friedman, and a wealth of documents (including a psychologist’s assessment of the victims) which are provided as DVD-Rom content.

 

Read Part 3, in which I discuss my favourite feature length documentary.

Charles Rivington can be followed on Twitter at @crivington.

Ke$ha Joins Campaign To Ban Animal-Tested Cosmetics In Europe

‘Animal’ Singer Ke$ha Joins Campaign To Ban Animal-Tested Cosmetics In Europe

American singer Ke$ha has joined stars Leona Lewis, Ricky Gervais, Dame Judi Dench, Mary McCartney and Melanie C, in urging EU politicians to keep their promise to ban the sale of cosmetics that have been tested on animals such as rabbits and hamsters [1].

The stars, and more than 60,000 compassionate consumers, have signed the CrueltyFree2013 petition organised by animal charity Humane Society International [2] urging EU politicians to make Europe a cruelty-free cosmetics zone by 2013.

Animal testing for cosmetics is banned in the UK and EU, but it is still legal to sell animal-tested products and ingredients imported from countries such as Brazil, China, Canada and the United States.

A European Union-wide ban on the sale of animal-tested cosmetics is due to come into force in March 2013, and could be a major step toward a global end to cosmetics animal testing. However, as the 2013 deadline approaches, the European Commission has hinted the ban may be delayed, perhaps by many years [3]. The lives of thousands of rabbits, hamsters, mice and guinea-pigs hangs in the balance.

Ke$ha signed HSI’s CrueltyFree2013 petition as her first collaboration with animal charity Humane Society International following her appointment as the charity’s first ever Global Ambassador.

Ke$ha said:
“I am honored to be the first HSI Global Ambassador because my music is inspired by the freedom and primal beauty of animals and the natural world. I take this opportunity incredibly seriously because we are ALL animals. One of the main underlying sentiments of my music is to respect all living creatures just as they are. I believe that together, we can change laws that allow innocent animals to be unjustly mistreated and abused all over the world.”

Ke$ha’s goal is to help HSI promote respect, protection, and compassion for animals around the world. Her record of musical success is impressive – her hit “TiK ToK” was the biggest-selling digital track in the world in 2010 and her “Animal” album has already sold over 2 million units worldwide. She’s racked up a number of prestigious award nominations, and took home a 2010 MTV Europe Music Award for Best New Act.

Readers can join Ke$ha in signing the CrueltyFree2013 petition at www.hsi.org/crueltyfree2013

HSI is part of the international ‘Leaping Bunny’ cruelty-free standard. Approved brands are independently audited to guarantee no animal testing and include Urban Decay, Hard Candy, Montagne Jeunesse, Marks & Spencer, Sainsbury’s and Superdrug. To shop cruelty-free download our Leaping Bunny Compassionate Shopping Guide at http://www.leapingbunny.org/images/globalguide.pdf

Have You Seen… Five Documentaries To Seek Out (Part One)

   In a special three part ‘Have You Seen…’, Charles Rivington explains that reality does not necessarily bite…

 

Reality is a dirty word. With the recent tragic suicide of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills cast member Russell Armstrong hitting headlines, the debate about the cruelty of so-called ‘reality’ television has once again captured public imagination. I’m not here to debate the culpability of the show but there is a well-known saying that suggests, and I’m paraphrasing, that every innovation or new piece of technology, even those conceived with the best of intentions, will eventually be used to bring mankind one step closer to destruction. In a sense, this is exactly what happened to the documentary genre when its techniques and style were first appropriated, bastardised and reduced to their most shallow and cruel form by the reality tv docu-soap. I believe that, now more than ever, we should learn to value, appreciate and celebrate reality again, not Bravo’s ‘reality’ but the unscripted, impartial and thought-provoking reality of cinema’s great documentaries. This edition of ‘Have You Seen…’ is therefore a little bit different as, rather than focusing on one film, I have decided to focus on a genre, that of feature-length documentaries. Due to its length, I have split it into three parts.

 

The documentary genre  is as old as cinema itself and almost everything you can imagine has been the subject of a documentary film.  Narrowing this vast category down to a definitive ‘five greatest’ would thus be pretty much impossible not to mention entirely redundant given the subjectivity of this criteria (how do we define greatness? Is my great the same as your great and is your great the same as Leonard Maltin’s great? Probably not.). Having said this, I do believe that a great documentary, regardless of whether its subject is penguins or the Second World War or a spelling competition, should challenge its viewers and force them to consider an idea or a point of view that might never have occurred to them. Whereas the great documentary-maker simply observes and questions without judgement, the great documentary connects with the audience by insisting that they think for themselves, forcing them to evolve from passive observers to active participants. This list is simply five films that did that to me.

 

I've heard great things about Hoop Dreams

I have limited the field to just feature length films (no Attenborough here I’m afraid) and excluded films that I think most people have already seen and therefore don’t fall under the remit of ‘Have You Seen…’ (Bowling For Columbine and Man on Wire for example are both wonderful films but are excluded for this reason).  I should probably still apologise in advance because I am bound to have omitted one of your personal favourites either because I don’t share your opinion or because I simply haven’t seen it yet (Hoop Dreams, often regarded as one of the greatest documentaries of all time, is omitted from this list for the simple reason that I’ve never watched it). These five films are presented in no particular order. Feel free to disagree/put forward your own suggestions/advertise a dating website for rich singles in the comments below.

 

The Early Actualities of the Lumière Brothers (1895)

 

Having spent quite a bit of time defining the rules for this list, I have gone and broken at least one of them in the first entry because this is not one film, but rather a collection of one-reel films – the first ten of which were debuted at the Grand Café in Paris in 1895. It is also arguable the extent to which they are documentaries as given their short length (one-reel is usually less than a minute) it seems that most of them were probably at least partly choreographed and the comic L’Arroseur Arrosé (The Sprinkler Sprinkled) is often hailed as the first narrative film. Regardless of this, they are remarkable records of a bygone age and are therefore more than worthy of mention.

 

Filmed in their hometown of Lyon, Auguste and Louis Lumière’s fascinating actualities, among the first films ever made, give us an unparallelled glimpse at the lives of the French working class at the turn of the century. Among these first ten are La Sortie de l’Usine Lumière à Lyon (Workers Leaving the Lumière Factory in Lyon)

The Lumiere Brothers

and Les Forgerons (The Blacksmiths). Their depiction of the working class, and the fact that they were screened to audiences of all backgrounds, makes them as much a document and engine (pun intended) of social change as they are the remarkable first gasps of an emerging technology. Of course, at the time, the draw of these films was the amazing technology on display and the Lumière’s cinématographe, a device that recorded, developed and projected films, was the real star. These early audiences, used to the flat painted backgrounds of the stage, were particularly impressed by the capturing of nature on film and it is said that the popularity of films such as Repas de bébé (Baby’s Breakfast, which featured Auguste’s own family thus making it the first home movie) owed more to the movement of the leaves in the background than to the film’s charming subject matter.  Because of this, this early, pre-narrative period of cinema is often referred to as ‘The Cinema of Attractions’  (a term coined by film scholar Tom Gunning). Nowadays, the opposite is true and it is these actualities’ remarkable depiction of every day life in France at the turn of the century that makes them so fascinating.

 

For a set of ‘local films for local people’ featuring an interesting look at British life during a similar, slightly later period, check out Sagar Mitchell and James Kenyon’s actualities which were often filmed and projected on the same day and feature many other entries into the ‘factory-gate’ subgenre.

 Both the Lumière Brothers and Mitchell and Kenyon films are currently available on DVD. As they are out of copyright, they can also be legally watched online for free and are relatively easy to find.

 Crumb (1994)

Part of my fascination with the documentary genre lies in its wonderful breadth. Anything from pet cemeteries to the horror of war to cave paintings to parrots, when handled in the right way can make, and have made, incredible documentaries. That this list’s second entry should be so wildly far-removed from its first is a testament to this breadth and I make no apologies for the jarring shift in tone. I can’t begin to imagine what the Lumières and Mitchell and Kenyon would have made of Terry Zwigoff’s moving and shocking Crumb, a film apparently so depraved that the 1996 Academy Award nominating committee switched it off after only 20 minutes, but I like to think that, unlike the prudish Oscar snobs, they would have persevered and recognised it as a worthy and spellbinding entry into the genre they helped to create.

 

     Crumb is very hard to describe and like the best documentaries doesn’t tell you how you should respond to it so that laughter, tears and repulsion are all equally valid reactions. It takes as its subject Robert Crumb, the

A self-portrait of R. Crumb. He's not kidding either...

subversive comic artist most famous for creating Fritz the Cat, the counter-cultural slogan, ‘Keep on Truckin’’ and a myriad of other works that were at the forefront of the underground comics movement of the 1960s. I have to admit that I was wholly unfamiliar with Crumb’s work before I saw this film (I only sought it out because I’d seen and loved Zwigoff’s rather more mainstream, Ghost World) and even now I’m not sure if I can say that I actually like his drawings with their garishly warped figures and often challenging and unsettling depictions of women and African Americans. However, as is the case with many great documentaries, the ostensible subject is merely a way in to much richer territory and the heart of Crumb lies not in these drawings (although their geneses are often as fascinating as they are disturbing) but in the man himself and his bizarre and tragic family, most notably his disturbed and equally artistic brothers, Maxon, who developed a penchant for sitting on nails and sexually harassing women, and Charles, a recluse who committed suicide before the film was released.

 

Featuring various interviews with family members, friends, critics and ex-girlfriends as well as his surprisingly well-adjusted wife and daughter, Crumb paints a picture of an intelligent and sensitive man who escaped a

Robert Crumb and friends

horrible childhood and went on to find salvation through art when others around him who were not as lucky.  Crumb is a disturbing yet frequently amusing portrayal of mental illness and people on the fringes of the society that is frequently depressing but also strangely relatable. Crumb himself is a tapestry of quirks and odd sexual fetishes. As a young child he developed an attraction to Bugs Bunny to the extent that he would carry a picture of the cartoon rabbit around with him, periodically taking it out to look at it and much of the film deals with his life-long obsession with women with disproportionately large hindquarters. Despite these quirks Robert Crumb emerges as an oddly charming character whose quiet sense of humour and bafflement and disgust at the world around him is remarkably sympathetic, perhaps even inspirational.

 

Needless to say, Crumb is unsuitable for children and the prudish but if you can stomach it, it is a very rewarding experience. It is currently available on Region 2 DVD (annoyingly this print does not feature the fantastic Roger Ebert commentary that is available to our American cousins, so if you watch the film and like it – and have a region free DVD player – the Region 1 DVD is well-worth seeking out for this alone).

 

Coming Soon… Part 2!