Review Archives - Page 20 of 24

Waiting For The Magic: The Photography Of Oscar Marzaroli

Featured, History, Opinion No Responses »

Nov 082013

One of many stunning pictures capturing Scotland’s past in ‘Waiting For The Magic: The Photography of Oscar Marzaroli’

In a world where every living moment seems to be captured on a smartphone camera, it is a delight to revisit the work of a true photographic artist, writes Graham Stephen.

Oscar’s black and white images of people and places, many now long gone, have a dignity and sense of humanity perfectly captured by his meticulous sense of balance and instinctive eye for telling detail.

As Robert Crawford explains in one of the three specially-commissioned essays which complement the photographs, it was all about geometry, the artist’s eye for shape and patterns.

Oscar found this in the real world, in the shipyards, tenement demolition sites and backyards. Then he would wait patiently for the light, the face, the magic. Where others may take a scattergun approach to shooting, hoping for one great picture in a hundred, he would rely on the moment, trusting the shot.

And the results deserve to be preserved and savoured. A panorama of faces from the 1963 Scottish Cup Final, remarkably detailed, each one caught in a split second of life, echoing through the years, link us to a disappeared time. Three young boys, in the middle of an empty street, innocently play in their mothers’ high heels, Oscar subtly uses the light to draw our eyes to two young men talking on the street corner, the picture offering more dramatic intrigue than a year of River City.

The riches in the book are too many to count. As well as his signature shots of Glasgow buildings and people, we get friends and family, landscapes, workplaces and even a sunny-looking Fraserburgh beach.

As we have come to expect from Birlinn, the book is beautifully produced and designed, a fine companion to the great Shades of Grey and Shades of Scotland collections from the 1980s, if you can find them.

And if you’re listening, Santa, Waiting For The Magic will almost certainly be a more lasting gift than Jamie’s or Yotam’s or Hugh’s latest cook-tome.

Waiting For The Magic: The Photography of Oscar Marzaroli
Birlinn Ltd
£25.00

The Marzaroli Collection on Facebook

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The B Project Reviewed

Articles, Opinion No Responses »

Nov 052013

Andrew Watson continues to spend his time in the dark with an unfeasibly-voluminous bucket of popcorn to bring us his thoughts on local film The B Project premiered at the Belmont Picturehouse.

As with most events of this sort, the cinema wasn’t short of people who seemed to have contributed to the film in some way. The audience lapped it up from start to finish.

Among us were Alison Telfer and Dan Greavey, who opened and closed proceedings by thanking cinema-goers and those who participated in making The B Project.

They are co-directors of this Right Here Productions film, shot on the streets of Inverurie, with Greavey explaining:

‘It’s a black and white, 50s B-movie musical, with references to 1980s films and songs throughout.

‘The reason for the 80s references is that the soundtrack consists of covers of songs by my favourite childhood group, Five Star.

‘We were lucky to enlist the services of some of the top musicians in the NE to create and record the soundtrack, and our cast of talented actors and singers were incredible from day one.’

Indeed it’s a heady mix of musical and comedy, as if Sunshine On Leith had been spliced with plenty of uproarious Spinal Tap moments. It’s all delivered in faultless American accents to boot.

Anyway, the story goes that a down-on-his-luck scientist is fighting his peers to secure funding for his latest invention. One day, the power of confidence dawns on him, after being willed by his girlfriend to think positively in advance of his upcoming review.

He then goes on to make an electric chair-esque contraption to transform him from lovable loser to unbearable upstart, losing his friends in the process.

Overall, this is a feel good film with an edgy bite. One can only hope that the mammoth effort put in by the actors leads one day to their personal big time.

Musings Of A Newish Music Photographer No.3

Aberdeen City, Featured, Opinion No Responses »

Nov 012013

Julie Thompson shares her experience as a fledgling music photographer, and a few of her pictures taken at The Old Granite Whistle Test at HMV between August and October 2013.

Leanne Smith at HMV - Pic by Julie Thompson

Leanne Smith performs for The Old Granite Whistle Test at HMV – Pic by Julie Thompson

Here’s a little quiz for you. What do Gerry Jablonski, Craig John Davidson, Amy Sawers, The Lorelei and Little Kicks have in common?

If you answered ‘Fat Hippy Records’, then you’d be right. But were you also aware that they, and several of their Fat Hippy siblings, have also played free gigs in HMV on Thursday nights for the last few months?

Let me present The Old Granite Whistle Test:

“The Old Granite Whistle Test is a weekly event at HMV in Aberdeen. It occurs weekly on a Thursday evening at 6:00. The band night was initially set up by HMV as a platform for new rising local acts to get some publicity, but quickly became a partnership between Captain Toms/Fat Hippy Records and HMV Aberdeen. As of the present moment, Steven Spencer and Tom Simmonds are dual organisers of the weekly event.”

The Old Granite Whistle Test sessions began on 1st August 2013 and were kicked off by Daniel Mutch, a young acoustic singer/songwriter. The second week showcased Craig John Davidson, whom I have since had the privilege of seeing play, when he supported The Lorelei at Meldrum Town Hall.

Sadly, I was unaware of these sessions until the third one, when The Lorelei came down to entertain us.

Despite complaints from a neighbouring vendor that they were too loud (just how is that possible?) they did their thing with that exuberant joy for their music which they seem to have, whenever I see them play; and, as a bonus, they got complimentary juices from the Juice Bar.

First Leanne Smith, a bonny girl with a sweet smile and voice to match, and then Amy Sawers, amazing voice, entertained us on the following Thursday evenings, bringing August to a close.

September’s line-up began with Robbie Flanagan and his guitar, and the following week, the twin rappers SHY & DRS, accompanied by Dave Brown on guitar.

They also filled Sandi Thom’s vocals on their Top 40 hit, The Love Is Gone.

The non-acoustic part of their set was sadly cut short due to technical problems.

The third session, featuring Uniform, had a delayed start as their frontman was caught in traffic.

Unfortunately, I only caught the very start of their set as I had an appointment elsewhere.

The fourth week was a blast, with Gerry Jablonski and the Electric Band bouncing around HMV, fresh from their new album launch at The Lemon Tree; which was, incidentally, my first official music shoot, providing images for the Aberdeen Voice.

What an excellent way to wind up September.

October opened with The Little Kicks, well, half of them, who are always a favourite. As they were playing later that evening at another venue, the drummer and bass player were not performing, although I did spot them lurking in the crowd.

I first encountered, and shot, this band at the Brewdog AGM in August. I was attending that event to provide images for an Aberdeen Voice article.

In fact they were, along with The Xcerts, the first live music I’d shot, apart from at the Belladrum Festival a couple of weeks earlier. Confession time: it gave me such a buzz that I wanted to do more.

Cara Mitchell played the second session of October. It was the first time I’d had the pleasure of hearing her.

The third week was supposed to be the Polish band, CETI, fresh from their Lemon Tree album launch.

However, due to illness they were replaced at short notice by Jon Davie.

I’d come across this singer/guitarist before when he played a solo acoustic set at The Lemon Tree.

He’s the frontman for GutterGodz, who I went down to Stonehaven Town Hall on Oct 25th to shoot, along with Deadfire and The Ruckus.

Colin Clyne, back home from a long stint in California, played the fourth week.

He has a good voice, which he accompanies with his guitar and mouth organ.

Having built up a following in the United States, he is hoping to repeat his success back home.

Over the weeks, I’ve chatted with Captain Tom of Fat Hippy Records about these sessions.

I put a few questions to him:

Q: Who came up with the idea of The Old Granite Whistle Test, and the name?

A: It was Steve Spencer, who works at HMV, who came up with the name and made the effort to get everyone involved.

Q: Has it been easy to persuade the acts to play?

A: Very. No one has needed to be persuaded, I think just about everyone we asked said yes, if they were available, and many more have asked to play.

Q: Have the bands enjoyed the experience?

A: I believe so. Some nights have been busier than others, but I think most relished the opportunity to play HMV for the first time.

Q: So, was it a frustrating or fun experience for you?

A: A bit of both, I suppose, if I’m honest. It’s great to be involved in an exciting new outlet for Aberdeen’s burgeoning and talented live music scene, but it can be a frustrating business when bands cancel at short notice or there’s a lack of support for really talented artists. But that’s the same for all gigs everywhere.

Q: Are there any amusing anecdotes you can relate?

A: Well, there have been a few interesting moments along the way. Without being specific I’ll confess that most of them involve the weekly running of the gauntlet with traffic wardens, to get parked anywhere near HMV to unload the PA. They’re very good at their job, so they are.

Q: Have HMV enjoyed giving up a bit of their floor space and time, do you think?

A: I think so. I get the impression they have probably wanted to do something like this with local music for some time, and it’s just taken a while for the opportunity to arise.

Q: Will you be doing more next year?

A: I hope so. This first 3 month stint from August to October was in some ways an experiment to see how it went, and what sort of response it got. So we’ll sit down with the powers that be at HMV over the next few weeks and see how we all feel it’s gone. Hopefully everyone’s happy and we can find a way to do another 3 month stint in early 2014.

Suburban Saints will complete the October line-up on the 31st, and, indeed, bring The Old Granite Whistle Test to a close for 2013. Whether it returns next year remains to be seen, but for me it has been a great way to see some of our local talent in action.

If The Old Granite Whistle Test returns next year, I shall certainly be there.

You’ve heard a little bit in this article about how and when I got started photographing live music.

In future weeks I plan on catching up with some of the local music photographers for a chat, to find out how they got started, their best and worst experiences, and maybe even garner some tips.

Click here to view more HMV Photos.

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Musings Of A Newish Music Photographer

Aberdeen City, Featured, Opinion No Responses »

Oct 112013

Julie Thompson shares her experience as a fledgling music photographer, and a few of her pictures of Johnny Marr and support act, Meredith Sheldon at The Garage, Aberdeen on 9 October 2013.

Sitting waiting patiently in the photo pit for former Smith Johnny Marr to come onstage, I thought back to the time when I wondered just how people got in here.

Now I know. Sometimes it’s luck, sometimes it’s who you know, sometimes who you shoot for. For those at the top of the game, it’s what they can do. Me, I’m just starting out.

Now I know, that having acquired that prized photo-pass, you get the first three songs in the pit and then you’re kicked out. If you don’t get what you need in that brief window of opportunity, tough.

Often, like today, you may not even find out if you have access until a few hours before. I got my pass confirmation e-mail only this morning, for a gig with doors open at seven this evening.

Sometimes you get to the venue only to find your name is not on the list after all. That was not my fate today; I collected my pass and headed into The Garage, formerly Moshulu, on Windmill Brae.

I arrived a little after 1900 and the place was almost deserted. As I’d not been here before it gave me a chance to find my bearings without fighting through crowds.

Be aware, if you need to find the bathroom here, DO NOT leave it until the last minute. It’s a fight to get there when the place is full and the only puddles we want to see on this floor are puddles of spilt beer.

I bumped into a fellow tog and we headed down for the support act.

We had the pit to ourselves to photograph a gorgeous young American lady, Meredith Sheldon. The camera loves this lassie and she was a pleasure to shoot.

Playing lead guitar accompanied by a bass guitarist, a floor-length skirt pointed out to us that she was a girl playing rock guitar who supported The Lemonheads on a previous tour.

Three songs later and we left. The odd thing about this game is that you don’t tend to hear the music while you’re shooting. It can be quite intense in the pit.

You don’t have long to warm up, figure out your camera settings and get the shots you want.

Ever-changing lighting can be a challenge, very dim lighting a nightmare. No flashguns are allowed in the pit, after all.

Things outside had changed in that time; many more people had arrived, but the place wasn’t really busy yet. We grabbed a drink and listened to the rest of Meredith’s set.

Having finally got a chance to listen to her, I decided that she’s good. You can find samples of her music on her website and she’s worth a listen.

A photographer from a local newspaper arrives, so there will be three of us in the pit for Johnny Marr.

It’s a good-sized pit, not overly deep but with enough room for moving around. Sometimes the pits can be challenging, as the order you enter is the order you stay in, not ideal for getting different angles.

This venue has early start times for live music and quick turn-around between bands, mainly due to the fact that it’s used as a late-night clubbing venue after 2230, so we headed back to the pit to wait. We weighed up the new microphone layout on stage and picked a start point.

As sitting on each other’s knees is a no-no, the prime position is usually grabbed by the first one into the pit. As the time progresses we will all take turns in the different spots, so it’s no biggie.

I did a final mental check on camera settings, grabbed a quick photo of the set list and shot some tests of the crew as they made last minute adjustments to the equipment on stage.

The tension was worse than waiting for your exams to start in school.

What went through my mind, when Johnny Marr and his band first came onstage?

‘Wow, it’s gone very dark. What’s that flash? Oh, it’s a strobe. I can’t focus on anything here… it’s going to be a disaster!’

Then the stage lights came on and we were away.

The time flew by and all too soon we were being ushered out of the area. The place was packed by this point; it was a sell-out.

I grabbed a drink and then did some chimping* at the back of the venue.

I finally got a chance to listen to the rest of the set without seeing much. One of the hazards of getting pit access is that you usually get a crap view later on.

Between songs, Johnny was complimentary of Aberdeen as he’d apparently had a wander during the day and liked the place.

The crowd was jumping and as we reached the last few songs the place erupted as some old favourites rang out, including an excellent cover of I Fought The Law.

Out into the night, it was hissing down, I popped into Drummonds for a quick look at a new venue to me.

I’ll be shooting Catfish and the Bottlemen there on Friday.

*Chimping – looking at the pics on the back of your camera and going ‘oo oo’ when you see a good one.

More photos:

Johnny Marr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/ladypakal/sets/72157636386073343/

Meredith Sheldon: http://www.flickr.com/photos/ladypakal/sets/72157636386410513/

Johnny Marr Set List (for those who like that sort of thing)

Upstarts

Panic

Right Thing Right

Sun and Moon

Crack Up

Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before

New Town Velocity

The Messenger

Lockdown

Say Demesne

Bigmouth Strikes Again

Generate! Generate!

Word Starts Attack

I Want The Heartbeat

How Soon Is Now?

———————–

Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want

The It Switch

I Fought The Law

Getting Away With It

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Rock And Roll Busker – David Innes Reviews

Articles, Opinion 2 Responses »

Oct 042013

For some semi-pro musicians, it’s not unusual for the phone to buzz on Thursday night and the conversation to go along the lines of,

“Davie min….”

“Aye?”

“Got a gig the morn?”

“No, Saturday at The Cragshannoch, Sunday at The Argo”.

“Can you fill in with us at The Bilermakers? Cash in hand, start at 9 o’clock, after the bingo”.

“Aye, go on then, send me your set list. Keys will help. Is Shake Rattle and Roll still in bloody Bb to accommodate your sax player?”

Dave Innes reflects, from fraught experience, on such rattlings and rollings as he flicks through the pages of Graham Forbes’ Rock And Roll Busker.

It was ever thus. Busking, you see, is not solely the preserve of the Oasis-obsessed fellow outside John Lewis’s, or of the tasteful Eastern European accordionist flourishing the bellows in St Nicholas Street.

Busking, to those in the know, is playing along brazen frontedly, with songs you half-know without anything as decadent as a rehearsal, making an intuitive contribution, often taking a leap of faith with chords or fingering, and always having the fallback default option of “muffled E” if you’re a bass player.

This is a seat of the pants world where bum notes are ‘jazz licks’ and mis-timed cues are ‘a bit of funk syncopation’. Audiences never notice. Sssssshhh….

That’s where the yarns in Graham Forbes’s third book will chime with jobbing musos, who share the author’s obsession with playing to an audience, not for the cash but for the buzz that only live performance can impart.

Glaswegian by birth, Forbes grew up in the 1960s and 1970s, when, if players were prepared to travel, they could be playing live every night. As well as traversing Scotland with a series of bands of rock n roll misfits, semi-alcoholic soulmen and cabaret tearaways, Forbes played in a credible line-up of the Incredible String Band and on sessions by household names.

Beyond this, however, his desire was always just to turn up, plug in and rock out.

The associated tales are hilarious, fascinating, and will ring true with anyone who experienced those crazy days and their financially-meagre but often otherwise hedonistically-satisfying rewards, destroyed forever by pub DJs and bloody karaoke.

Forbes is forthright, opinionated and passionate. Those he loves and respects are described affectionately, but he reserves harsh words and a fine level of splenetic disdain for money-obsessed managers, lazy, unreliable band members, young acts concerned only with record deals and for music stands onstage. He likes 1950s valve amplifiers, tanned, long-legged American girls, mountaineering, Fenders and skiing.

As he brings Rock And Roll Busker up to date, he divides his time between Florida and Glasgow, always on the lookout for a gig, whether for the well-heeled in the humid clubs of Saratosa, or the formica-chic of Paisley’s Patter Bar offering punters a few hours respite from the grim deprivation of life in the put-upon West of Scotland. Accounts of his experiences in these starkly-diverse situations show that his love affair with entertaining has diminished none.

My favourite rock n roll books are Deke Leonard’s twin behemoths Maybe I Should’ve Stayed In Bed? and Winos, Rhinos and Lunatics. Rock And Roll Busker is every bit as entertaining and nostalgic and has earned the right to be slotted in next to those seminal tomes on my bookshelves.

ROCK AND ROLL BUSKER
Graham Forbes
(MCNIDDER & GRACE)
282 pp

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Colin MacKay And Davy Cowan CDs Reviewed

Articles, Opinion No Responses »

Sep 132013

Whilst I’m not sure if there exists a specific and empirical Scottish identity, which leaves me a bit unsure as to how to vote next year, for the selfish purposes of this article, I’m saying that it’s been a good couple of years for releases by Scottish musicians, writes David Innes.

2012 saw terrific releases by Meursault and Two Wings, each experimental but melodic and thought-provoking. In 2013 so far, the John Langan Band’s so-called pan-European traditional acoustic music was displayed to magical effect on Bones Of Contention and bluesier offerings from Dave Arcari (Whisky In My Blood), Hot Tin Roof (All Night Long), King King (Standing In The Shadows) The Black Diamond Express (Brimstone For Hell) and the perennial Blues ‘n’ Trouble (Try Anything Twice) have all impressed critics, reviewers and fans alike.

Johnny and the Copycats have celebrated more than half a century of never-say-die gigging by releasing 50 Years On and new CDs by Colin Mackay and Davy Cowan, both the subject of Voice interviews, have come our way.

We’ll get a copy of the Copycats’ disc, but in the meantime, what about Buckie loon Mackay’s recording and Highlander Cowan’s release?

Do What You Love (Colin Mackay, Self-release) was recorded in Nashville, with production legend Bil VornDick at the board.

Colin is careful to point out that the Nashville connection does not necessarily mean that he’s recorded a country album, citing southern rock and soul as big influences on his writing. There’s no doubting that there’s a toughness and swagger about his own material on Do What You Love.

Perhaps it’s because he’s wearing his own clothes on his own six compositions that these are where he turns in his strongest performances. This is especially evident on the opening three tracks, the title track, the Miracles-esque Whisky Morning and Let You Go.

VornDick’s hand-picked session men are a massive part of the album, laying down surefooted, sympathetic tracks which enhance immeasurably Mackay’s songs. He has said himself that he was in awe of the talent surrounding him during the recording, and there’s little question that both producer and musicians have inspired Colin to demonstrate his own vocal abilities to fine effect.

www.colinmackaymusic.com
Aberdeen Voice interviews Colin MacKay

Further west on the Moray Firth, Davy Cowan, formerly of Celtic crowd-pleasers Coinneach has been coached and encouraged by producer and Barbaraville label owner Martin Stephenson to find his own voice and become known ‘beyond the village’.

Working Man’s Dream (Pictish Pop Records/Barbaraville) is already creating minor tremors beyond the Black Isle.

It’s a solid set of original songs, with a faithful cover of Tom Paxton’s Ramblin Boy included, and the producer has brought the best out of Cowan by encouraging him to find his own voice to emote his personal, yet universally-themed songs.

He’s a lucky guy.

At times displaying the tough yet vulnerable cracked emotion of Johnny Cash, and occasionally recalling the sonorous timbre of Tom Russell, his performances have credibility and are delivered without histrionics or Autotune.

Whilst for the genre junkies and categorisation obsessives Working Man’s Dream can probably index-carded and filed in the Americana drawer, the album is simply a welcome example of mature home-grown songwriting and delivery, drawing in Celtic and country influences, with an added energetic punk edge as needed.

www.davycowan.com
Aberdeen Voice interviews Davy Cowan

Ceilidhcatu – Brazilian Beats Meet Bogie Ballads

Articles, Opinion No Responses »

Sep 132013

Itinerant Scots have been accused of many musical misdemeanours. Musicologists have built careers tracing the global paths that Scottish traditional music has wandered along, injecting swing into cowboy music, adding Hebridean angst to the blues and a hint of bothy life into bluegrass. Since the heady days when The Old Blind Dogs linked New Deer with New Orleans there’s been a consistent interest in setting traditional Scots tunes against global rhythms. Along those lines, and on the face of it, this looks like an interesting CD release from Huntly’s Deveron Arts, reviewed by Graham Stephen.

Brazilian musician Allysson Velez, inspired by ceilidh music, recognised rhythmic links with his own tradition and its African slave roots. He teamed up with Omar Arif, a West African musician living in the area, and a handful of local musicians, including fiddle maestro Paul Anderson. The result is Ceilidhcatu, promoted as ‘a transcultural community of art’.
What I expected was a cross-cultural stew of shared enthusiasm with musicians sparking off each other’s playing and musical styles.

This may well happen in a live situation, but much of this recording lacks a dynamic spark, sticking to repetitive, unadventurous arrangements and never quite matching its ambitions.

Too often it sounds like two styles brought hesitantly together, shyly inter-mingling, but happier to stick to familiar territory. That, you may argue, is itself a fundamental tradition in the NE.

Not that there is anything wrong with the performances. The musicians play well, which is frustrating, because at times the formula works, giving hints of the possibilities. The relentless African drum patterns, for example, enhance the gloom and menace of Twa Corbies.

Driven by Anderson’s strong fiddle, The Devil In The Kitchen set threatens to take off, demanding to be pushed into overdrive by some strong percussion. When the drums arrive, however, they stick to a repetitive groove regardless of changes in the tunes, where subtle shifts and textures would have brought the set to life.

Opening track Scotland The Brave also suffers from this sense of deceleration, giving a feeling that the two elements have been brought together separately, rather than being a natural bonding. The traditional songs and tunes chosen are also very familiar. Perhaps a choice of material beyond the standard session repertoire might have enhanced the project.

Significantly, the strongest tracks are duets featuring only Velez and Afif, their hypnotic Maracuta rhythms echoing the legacy of slave trade links between Brazil and Africa. Set against this, an unexpected unaccompanied version of The Rovin’ Ploughboy, perfectly sung by Shona Donaldson, somehow encapsulates the aching soul of the NE bothy ballad while Steve Brown’s pipes on Farewell To The Creeks sit well in natural sound effects.

CEILIDHCATU
NordEste/NorthEast (Deveron Arts)

Life Cycle: A Bike Ride Round Scotland And Back to Childhood

Articles, Opinion No Responses »

Sep 132013

On a whim and a wave of memories of his love for his childhood bike, Gary Sutherland calls his younger brother Stewart and proposes that they go for a wee run, just like they did as bairns. This time it’s not a Christmas morning 5-mile round trip to Duffus from their home village of Hopeman on brand new bikes. This time it’s around Scotland. Despite neither having been astride a bike for years, the response is, ‘Yeah, OK’. And so it begins. David Innes reviews.

Part travelogue, part buddy movie storyboard, Life Cycle celebrates the simple pleasures and sense of achievement to be had by travelling, seeing the world from a different perspective and all via self-generated pedal power.

Sutherland’s narrative captures the joys of achievement, cholesterol-stuffed Scottish breakfasts, pints and companionship, even when he and Stewart are struggling with the gradients between Ullapool and Durness.

He dislikes hills. He grimaces at headwinds. He detours miles to visit a good coffee shop. He’s a proper cyclist all right.

Although sometimes the in-family anecdotes and snatches of conversation veer into ‘you had to be there’ territory, there are some gems.

Gary and Stewart have found a Callander bakery selling butteries. Yes, civilisation and Ambrosian lard-laden soul food that far south.

‘Do you think butteries are good for you?’ asked Stewart
‘Oh aye,’ I said, even though they’re nothing but butter and salt, ‘I reckon you could power your way round Scotland on butteries alone’.
‘I’d like to see you give it a go’.
‘I reckon I’d be able to do 10 miles to the buttery’.
‘That’s pretty impressive’.
‘It’s also a lot of butteries’.

Although two-wheeled trainspotterly stattoes like me would love to have had daily progress charts, tables of averages and maps of the journey included as an illustration of the tour, that isn’t the purpose of Life Cycle. In some places it’s almost cathartic as the struggle to self-motivate each morning and the mental and physical anguish of tortuous hill climbs are described.

Life Cycle is a tale of a couple of weeks one summer re-affirming life’s simplicity and familial ties. No more, no less. This is encapsulated in the description of a long and welcome descent after a day of excruciating climbing in Sutherland.

‘My eyes were fixed on my wee brother, flying free amid this majestic landscape. It was one of the finest sights I’d ever seen. It was all worth it for this.’

Now and again there can be too much seemingly-anodyne detail given, but on publication of A Journal Of The Plague Year and Robinson Crusoe, Daniel Defoe was acclaimed for bringing journalistic verisimilitude to the fledgling novel genre. Gary Sutherland is in good company.

So, as we cyclists feel winter on the back of some chillier September mornings, as the shorts are consigned to the back of the drawer and the winter gloves are looked out, what better time to reflect on the pleasures of summer cycling and take inspiration for one’s own road trip once the days lengthen again? You may find it between the easily-read pages of Life Cycle.

Life Cycle: A Bike Ride Round Scotland and Back to Childhood. Gary Sutherland.
Birlinn Books. 214pp. £9.99

Facile Scotland

Articles, Opinion 3 Responses »

Sep 062013

Having seen a book entitled Fascist Scotland (Birlinn Books, 256 pages) at the library I thought I’d check it out as the name of the author, Gavin P Bowd, seemed oddly familiar. This proved to be correct as he wrote an article in Scotland on Sunday earlier this year linking Scottish Nationalism with Nazism for which he allegedly received ‘death threats’. Having read this awful book I can imagine the alleged ‘death threats’ can only have come from serious historians who have seen their profession dragged into the gutter and their status reduced to that of a third-rate fairground barker, writes Dave Watt.

Basically, the book implies that there has been a major connection between Scotland and Fascism since the 1920s.

It is shotgun mudslinging of the lowest order, even implying that Rudolf Hess arrived in Scotland because he knew the place was full of Nazi sympathisers and that the wartime government was afterwards involved in some sort of major cover-up.

He uses a ludicrous quote from an Evelyn Waugh’s Officers and Gentlemen, in which a lunatic alleged Scottish nationalist Miss Carmichael, an avid admirer of Hitler, proclaims that, ‘When the Germans land in Scotland, the glens will be full of marching men come to greet them, and the professors themselves at the universities will seize the towns’, as his basis for showing that Scotland was just waiting for the word to go Nazi during the war.

Presumably the 50000 Scottish servicemen and women who died in the Second World War were all rushing to join the Wehrmacht when they absent-mindedly forgot that they had rifles in their hands and the Germans were obliged to kill them.

Bowd also claims that although 549 people in Scotland volunteered to fight for the Republicans in the Spanish Civil War, and only one (yes, that’s right, one) went to fight for the Fascists, there were many Franco sympathisers in Scotland and, at one point, refers to us as ‘Mosley’s Lost Legion’.

Based on this kind of statistical interpretation I could state that there are many sympathisers in Scotland for the notion that the Earth is flat.

One of the more surreal pieces in the book alleges that the Protestant League in Scotland initially supported the Spanish Republic since they were kicking out priests from Spanish schools, but goes on to state that they all changed their minds as the Civil War went on and supported the Fascists as a consequence of becoming suddenly impressed with Hitler.

No evidence is supplied for this abrupt alleged Scottish Protestant devotion to Hitler, there are no voting statistics, no pictures of Orange banners with Adolf crossing the Rhine on a white dobbin on the 12th of July, no radio broadcasts from Ibrox with the crowd singing ‘Hello, Hello, We Are The Falangist Boys’ and stating that they were ‘up to their knees in Anarcho-Syndicalist blood’.

Nope. Nothing like that. It happened like that just because he says so.

Paralleling the surreal observation about Scottish support for Franco, he seems to imply that since the National Front got 0.08% of the vote in 2011, there is a huge secret groundswell towards Fascism in Scotland. The obvious corollary to this is that if the evil Jocks gets independence it will be concentration camps all over the shop and you won’t be able to get a quiet latte in Costa for people standing on chairs singing Tomorrow Belongs To Me.

This book is appalling. I don’t know if the smug-looking cock (see pic) did any serious research apart from cherry-picking anything, no matter how tenuous, to make his spurious point but he seems to be unable to relate his findings to his own statistics.

Don’t buy this book. Don’t bother reading it. It’s crap.

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Rosemary Goring, After Flodden – A Review

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Sep 062013

We’re a week away from the 500th anniversary of the ill-starred Battle of Flodden, where ten thousand Scottish deaths robbed the nation of the cream of its youth and its respected and progressive monarch James IV. It is a half-millennium-old scar on the Scottish psyche that refuses to heal. Bringing a human and emotional focus to that dreadful afternoon and its immediate aftermath is the triumph of Rosemary Goring’s first novel. Voice’s David Innes reviews.

It is all too easy to read military history and to become tied up in weaponry, strategy, tactics and numbers, forgetting the individual human outcomes and emotional fallout of major, traumatic events.

After Flodden time-shifts effortlessly and expertly, moving between the preparation for battle, a harrowing account from a participating character and, majorly, a Kidnapped-style post-battle journey across the threatening Border Marches as far south as Durham, to deal with a familial issue of national importance.

Whilst this is going on, the English noose threatens to tighten around the Borders, regarded as an anarchic free-booting hotbed of crime and hostility to authority.

Of course, constrained by accounts of historical events and by the actual cast list of 1513, the author has to fit within the timeframe and the presence of major contemporary political characters. This does not curb her narrative imagination, however, and the plot and sub-plots are populated by protagonists with whose emotions, motives and actions it is easy to identify.

Emotions? Character traits? Are mistrust, subterfuge, passion, intrigue, betrayal, guilt and remorse enough to be going on with? Paniter, Crozier, Torrance, Louise, Benoit and even the vixen are memorable and credible imaginative creations, even where Goring’s own obvious fictional instincts have to be tempered by historical fact and evidence.

This is a fascinating and illuminating page-turner, especially for a debut novel, and readers will hope that there is more to come from the skilful, artful pen of Rosemary Goring.

ROSEMARY GORING – After Flodden
(POLYGON) 331 pp £14.99

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