Within Our Echo Chambers Hear Our Cry

Our words may be too many or too few
May simply complicate, or simplify
I’d choose them carefully if I were you

One wonders what we want our words to do
Remove the speck from someone else’s eye?
Our words may be too many or too few

They vanish, most of them, into the blue
But ghosts remain to haunt us when we die
I’d choose them carefully if I were you

We speak for speaking’s sake, our egos spew
A constant stream of consciousness, and lie
Our words may be too many or too few

We patronise our children, to our crew
We speak in ciphers. Words are birds that fly
I’d choose them carefully if I were you

We fill the empty air with nothing new
Within our echo chambers hear our cry
Our words may be too many or too few
I’d choose them carefully if I were you

© Gail Foster 17th May 2023

Lucie Had A Lovely Tone

On the occasion of the Fulltone Orchestra’s grand tour with Lucie Jones

Lucie had a lovely tone
So clear it was and true
That everywhere that Lucie went
An orchestra went too
And everyone who went to see
The orchestra was glad
Not only were they glorious
But oh the Tone they had

Lucie had a lovely tone
So bright it was and clear
That everywhere that Lucie went
The angels lent an ear
The audience were mesmerised
‘How beautiful the tones
And magical the musicals
And voice of Lucie Jones!’

Lucie had a lovely tone
So true it was and bright
That everybody’s spirits were
Uplifted on the night
And Tone he had a baton
And a one, and one two three
In Reading, Bath, and Bournemouth
And in Cardiff by the sea

Lucie had a lovely tone
And Tone in turn he had
An orchestra with talent that
Did drive the devil mad
And what they did with music
Simply thrilled you to the bones
The Fulltone Orchestra
And Lucie Jones

© Gail Foster 25th April 2023

Composite image of Lucie Jones, Anthony Brown (Tone), and the FTO at The Forum, Bath, 29th April 2023 © Gail Foster

Measure for Measure at The Wharf Theatre, Devizes

‘Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.’ Matthew 7: 1-2

From this and other biblical quotes comes the title and theme of Shakespeare’s play, which was first performed at the court of James 1st on the 26th December 1604.

‘Dealing with hypocrisy in government, the abuse of power and the silencing of women, Measure for Measure is an irresistible choice for a modern-dress production. It has the power, four hundred years on, to genuinely startle us with its relevance.’ Liz Sharman, Director.

I confess to having been quite daunted at the prospect of reviewing a Shakespeare play. I’m all for a long word but there really are rather a lot of them all together and sometimes it’s hard to keep up. In addition to that the parallels with the society of today are many and various and almost too glaringly obvious to mention.

‘Political chicanery. Abuse of position. Misogyny. Lying when in office. Sexual impropriety. Leaders breaking their own rules. No – it’s not Westminster!’ Ian Diddams (Pompey).

I went on Monday, which was the first night of the run. As mentioned above, the cast wore modern dress (with a seventies feel). The stage was painted black and bare; the absence of clutter and decoration on the stage leaving the mind free to concentrate on and relish the richness of the language. With the odd prop and sprinkling of light of different shapes and hues to indicate changes of scene, and music and sound used sparingly to the same end; a little mediaeval here, a bit of classical there, a bit of rock, tolling bells, and birdsong; a sombre atmosphere was created that entirely fitted the subject material.

Duke Vincentio leaves Vienna in the hands of his deputy Angelo, and disguises himself as a monk to observe how Angelo enforces the laws that he himself has let slide over the years, saying ‘hence shall we see, if power change purpose, what our seemers be’. Angelo immediately cracks down and brings back some ancient laws, particularly in relation to brothels and sexual behaviours, and sentences Claudio, the brother of the virtuous aspiring nun Isabella, to death for getting his girlfriend pregnant out of wedlock. When Isabella finds out that Claudio is to die she pleads with Angelo, who is suddenly overpowered with feelings of lust and love and proposes that she save her brother’s life by letting him have his wicked way with her.

It all gets a bit dark at this point and there is a rather disturbing scene in which Angelo tries to dominate Isabella by pulling her hair covering off. ‘To whom should I complain?’ asks Isabella afterwards.

Perhaps it is possible to watch Measure for Measure without being reminded of the murder of Sarah Everard and the policing of subsequent demonstrations, the current situation of women in Iran, and the recent revelations about the low rate of rape convictions in the UK and misogyny within the Met, but I didn’t manage it.

This scene was particularly well acted by Simon Carter as the dour and unforgiving Angelo, and Eleanor Smith in her Wharf debut as the innocent Isabella. Other scenes in which these two excelled in their passionate delivery were the scene in which Angelo is surprised by the suddenness and depth of his feelings, and the scene where Isabella gives Claudio, played by the always watchable Oli Beech, a piece of her mind for suggesting that his life might be worth more than her virtue.

As well as much morality to mull on there is many a mirthful moment in Measure for Measure, mostly delivered by the ebullient Ian Diddams as Pompey Bum the Bawd (resplendent in a gold shirt familiar to his fans) and the magnificent Lesley Scholes as Mistress Overdone, both of whom were made for such roles, and the rather strange Barnadine, who was covered with so much hair I couldn’t tell who played him! I also enjoyed Paul Snook as the crafty Lucio’s wit and word play, and Tor Burt’s gentle delivery of Mariana’s lines. Interesting and thought-provoking characters were Duke Vincentio (described as ‘the old fantastical duke of dark corners’ by Lucio), played in enigmatic and conspiratorial fashion by Pete Wallis, and the Provost, Jessica Bone, who seemed to be the only straightforward and truly merciful representative of the law in the play.

It’s not my place to criticise Shakespeare but at one point someone sleeps with someone pretending to be someone else and because it is dark nobody knows that they are sleeping with the wrong person (the bed trick) and also someone’s head is cut off but it’s not the head of the actual person it’s supposed to be but because they are dead nobody notices (the head trick) and I find both those things completely unlikely but I guess that’s poetic licence for you.

In the end everyone, with perhaps but not necessarily the exception of Isabella, has been taught a lesson about justice and how we shouldn’t be removing specks from each other’s eyes before getting out the planks from our own.

What of Duke Vincentio though? Was he lazy, sneaky, incredibly wise, or all of the above? Because in the end it seemed that he might be just as capable of riding roughshod over a woman’s wishes to satisfy his own desires as anyone else was. Perhaps no-one is all of anything, and Shakespeare leaves us to make up our own minds about him and his final question to Isabella unanswered.

The prose and poetry in the play is glorious, and so much easier to understand in performance than on the page. There are so many chuckleworthy turns of phrase – ‘groping for trouts in a peculiar river’ being one of my favourites – and philosophical and potentially dangerous questions to stimulate and confuse the mind, such as ‘They say, best men are moulded out of faults’, and ‘Might there not be a charity in sin…’.

There have been many words written about Shakespeare and his meanings and motivations over the years, but whatever his intent he has left us in Measure for Measure a play that begs huge moral questions, acknowledges everyone’s fallibility and humanity, and gives you a good laugh to boot.

The Wharf’s production on the first night wasn’t perfect. There were a few lines forgotten for a moment, and it took a while to warm up, but all in all it was very well done by an experienced cast and incredibly engaging. The theatre wasn’t packed but it will be by the end of its run, and I wasn’t the only person to have felt privileged and thrilled to enjoy a bit of Shakespeare in our beautiful theatre.

I asked the people in the row in front of me for a few, well three to be exact, words to describe their experience. ‘Jolly good evening!’ and ‘Thoroughly enjoyed it!’ they said, and on the way out I heard a lady say to her friend with some surprise that she had understood it all.

One has to wonder what the relatively new King James 1st would have thought of being presented with such a stark message about government and morality.

Finally, it’s worth remembering that it wasn’t until 1660 that women were even allowed to be on the stage at all, and that all the women’s parts in the original play would have been played by men.

If you get the chance to see Shakespeare at The Wharf this week or ever in the future, give it a go; you’ll be hugely entertained and supporting quality theatre in Devizes by doing so.

And if you’re less than familiar with the plot of the play or Shakespeare generally there’s no crime in having a quick Google. No-one needs to know. Not that I did or anything…

© Gail Foster 29th March 2023

Images of Pete Wallis as Duke Vincentio and Eleanor Smith as Isabella by Gail Foster

Who Are The British People Anyway?

Who are the British people anyway?
The ones who with Conservatives agree
And only them? Are we allowed to be
The people now? Are we allowed to say
A word against the government today?
Free speech, you say, but not the BBC
It’s not for that you pay the licence fee
To let the lefty woke get in the way

The who? The woke, the liberal elite
The Linekers, the Attenboroughs, you
And every other person in your street
Who disagrees with what the Tories do
Be quiet you, while we turn up the heat
It’s not as if you’re British people too

© Gail Foster 10th March 2023

Putin Did A Little Speech

On the occasion of Putin’s state of the nation address after a year of war in Ukraine

Putin did a little speech
The audience looked pretty shot
But sat and listened to him preach
Because they had to. Looked a lot
Like statues, as if some had died
Already, some were nearly dead
And some were simply dead inside
A rictus smile stuck on a head
And on he ranted, on and on
As one by one they fell like flies
Upon the floor - another gone
And then another - in their eyes
Was only darkness. Clear the floor
Said Putin, and then bring me more

© Gail Foster 21st February 2023

Cometh The Man

On the occasion of Matt Hancock (who?) going into the jungle (what?)

Oh how our MPs entertain us
We are what we eat - and sustain us
Licking Boris's ring
Was an actual thing
And Nadine ate an ostrich's anus

Matt Hancock. Who cares? Who is he?
And where did you find him? (BB)
And what has he done? 
Blah, blah, trouserless fun
Blah, blah - ah, so a Tory MP

Good luck in the jungle! You're who?
Do watch out for the crocodile poo!
And the people who think
You're a wanker, wink wink
For the fans of a Tory are few

Who knows? He might prove to be good
Give some old Tory women some wood
Not that they'll see
Being more BBC
But I'm sure that they would if they could

Cometh the moment a van
In which cometh Matt Hancock who can
Come up with the goods
In the House or the woods
Where is he? He's coming! Oh man

© Gail Foster 2nd November 2022

Elon Had A Little Sink

Elon had a little sink
And quite a lot of Twitter
A Starlink and a skating rink
And gold encrusted shitter
I'd give it all up in a blink
He said, and not be bitter
If I had farts that didn't stink
And tarts that didn't titter

Elon did a lot of farts
And most of them were smelly
Distracting him from all the arts
He liked to watch on telly
And darts - he did like watching darts
And reading Machiavelli
While reaching down to touch the parts
He hid beneath his belly

Elon liked the ladies so
And ladies liked his money
He wished they wouldn't titter though
At things that were not funny
It's not the time for jokes you know
He'd say, make like a bunny
And - oh! - don't interrupt my flow
Don't titter at me honey

Elon had a massive head
And doors he had to widen
An IQ higher than, he said
The tide that he was ridin'
But when he snuggled in his bed
He'd no-one to confide in
Except his teddy, Little Ted 
And poster of Joe Biden

Elon quite liked Donald Trump
And Putin, or whoever
Was popular that he could hump 
To make himself look clever
And if they cut him off he'd dump
Them instantly, forever
And never let them kiss his rump
Again. Or nearly never

Elon had the notion that
He was the true Messiah
Jesus, he'd say, was a twat
And my IQ is higher
And I'm the King of Twitter, sat
Above all that desire
Me even though my head is fat
And I may be a liar

Elon. Onle. Leon. Nole -
Who knows what you equate to
You say you'll root out every troll
But who knows what will fate do
World domination is your goal
And nothing less will sate you
Beware behind the grassy knoll
The ego that creates you

© Gail Foster 28th October 2022

He Always Was Conservative, Was Fred

He always was Conservative, was Fred
'The one thing they will never take away -
Conservative and proud!' he used to say
'And British. British born and British bred'
He liked a bit of bunting on the shed
And Elgar, bits of which he liked to play
Upon his trumpet on Election Day
'To keep away the immigrants' he said

When Boris came at first he liked him well
But then there was the party thing, and he
Was not impressed by that, nor by the smell
Of bullshit, Truss's rubbish, his MP - 
The list went on. He just said 'Fucking Hell!'
And died, they said, in front of the TV

© Gail Foster 21st October 2022

What Company They Keep

On the introduction of the phrase 'anti-growth coalition' to the Conservative lexicon

The Ministry of Silly Words devised
A phrase designed to bring about division
So dreadful it was worthy of derision
One has to wonder why one is surprised
Or that one is, with others so despised
Described as being in some coalition
So comprehensive in its composition
That definition would be ill-advised

Wait - anti-what? The anti-what are who?
The enemy. The enemy is me?
And anyone who dares to disagree
Apparently, with anything they do
What words they use to lull us all to sleep!
How dull they are. What company they keep

© Gail Foster 7th October 2022