Articles

  • Sep 12, 2024 | thespectator.com | Simon Parkin |Bryan Appleyard |Paul F Kildea |Harry Cluff

    Even before the 872-day long siege ended, both survivors and onlookers had already begun to refer to Leningrad — formerly and currently known as St. Petersburg — as a city of heroes. Tales of bravery and self-sacrifice were enshrined in memorials, histories and memoirs, which between 1945 and 1991 were published in the Soviet Union at an average rate of one per day.

  • Sep 6, 2024 | thespectator.com | Joanna Pocock |Alexander Larman |Paul F Kildea |Anne De Courcy

    On reaching the end of Hettie Judah’s Acts of Creation, I felt somewhat overwhelmed. At 272 pages, the book isn’t particularly large, but the time span it covers, from prehistoric goddess figures to Laure Prouvost’s 2021 cyborg-octopus installation “MOOTHERR,” is enormous. The trajectories, practices and obsessions of the artists discussed range far and wide.

  • Aug 29, 2024 | australianbookreview.com.au | Paul F Kildea |Arts Highlights

    In the winter of 1937–38, Bertolt Brecht, a refugee from National Socialism, lived in furious exile in Svendborg, a small town on the Danish island of Funen. There he wrote and compiled a collection of poems under the working title ‘Gedichte im Exil’ (Poems in Exile). Sometime between galleys and the poet’s move to Sweden following the Munich Agreement, the book was renamed Svendborger Gedichte, the second section of which begins with a simple motto: In the dark timesWill there also be singing?

  • Aug 24, 2024 | thespectator.com | Nicholas Farrell |Paul F Kildea |Billy McMorris |Amy Everett

    Was it chance or destiny, I wonder, that caused the eldest of our six children, Caterina, to pull over in the dead of night and park the car where she did? She was on her way back with a young man from a beach party down the coast and had stopped next to a derelict farmhouse so she could look for shooting stars in the endless night and make a wish.

  • Aug 24, 2024 | thespectator.com | Paul F Kildea |Neve Gordon |Richard Kemp |Juan P. Villasmil

    Some years ago, following a Christmas performance of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker, I sat in one of the dives near the theater with a member of the corps de ballet, the gay son of close friends. The audience had been populated largely by children and teenagers, most of whom were either smitten by the intrepid, empathetic Clara or wanted to be her. Yet the mood perceptibly shifted when, at the end of Act I, the life-sized nutcracker doll transformed into a most handsome prince, all grace and gluts.

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