'Power In The Blood' on Billboard

Buffy Sainte-Marie has just posted a link to an interview she did with Billboard which starts off by asking about the song, 'Power In The Blood'. After crediting Alabama 3, she went on to say: 

"My version [of Power In The Blood] is a laundry list of contemporary issues that are challenging everyone right now. It's the age old racketeering problem that's been going on since before the Old Testament. The Roman Empire, the Inquisition -- the whole notion of rackets, where a few guys make a fortune and everyone else is exploited. And it's everything -- it's in the banks, it's in the tanks, in the military, the food supply, the college of business.... The business model at the moment is kind of fraud: Take as much as you can get and give back the least you can.

"It's a big, huge racket that everyone is seeing with new eyes now. "Power In the Blood" is a double entendre. On one end, it's the power of the feudal system to hurt and exploit us. The other power is the power in our brains to survive and evolve beyond this. To balance that with what we need -- common sense and respect for nature and each other."

Don't you wish that all your heroes were this strong, this powerful, this righteous?

And here's a video for the song, 'Power In The Blood' from her album of the same name.



#NoNoNoToWar!

"Never let her go..."

O yes, that's easy for you to say but you did, Emile, you did you fool. You let her get away and look what happened. Luckily, you got her back.

What? O yes, I'm talking about one of the greatest love stories ever, the tale of Emile and Nellie in 'South Pacific', in one of the greatest musicals ever. I saw the Broadway revival at Lincoln Centre in New York five years ago and fell in love with the show. I'd never seen it before or heard it but I knew the songs from the '60s and '70s telly shows that they featured in. And seeing them together told the story I needed to hear. I bought the cast recording on the way out of the theatre and it echoed in my head as we walked out into the snow and ice of the New York winter night and back to the hotel. I floated on a Polynesian breeze...

The production transferred to the Barbican in London in 2011 and I was there to see it again. A different stage and a different cast (other than Bloody Mary) and it was still marvellous. So I got tickets to see it again. And when it went on tour in 2012 I bought tickets to see it at Wimbledon. It was still wonderful and I bought a fridge magnet to remind me of the joy. Listening to the cast recording brings it all back. Sometimes things just click and you get it.

I love this show. I love the songs and the structure, the repetitions of the themes and phrases from the songs. It works as a complete whole with no need for a prequel or sequel. It opens with Nellie and Emile appearing after a lovely day together and we don't need to know how they met, we just know that they've discovered love. It's self-contained and I like to think of Nellie and Emile living their lives quietly in the hills of their Polynesian island, hosting occasional parties and bringing up children and grandchildren with visits to the USA now and then. Nellie would keep up to date with nursing practices in the local hospital and Emile would generate money for college scholarships for local children.

Life goes on y'know.

Badges! Protest!

I  took advantage of the lull in the rain the other afternoon to pop round to my local Tecso enormo-store (yes, a new compound word) to get some provisions in for the week ahead. While I was browsing and trying to remember why I came in the first place (shower gel *tick*, radishes *tick*, rice *tick* ...) I suddenly decided I was pleased I was the age I am. I'm 55 and that means I'm in my sixth decade of life, and I marvel at the changes I've seen and wonder what changes are still to come.

Not all is rosy, of course. With age come health problems and changes that I doubt anyone is prepared for but that's part of growing. I suppose I'm an adult but I still don't think I've grown up - there's still some way to go before I'll accept that insult. My politics haven't mellowed as often seems to be the case as we age and my frustration with the right wing only increases. You see, I remember the '70s when everyone had a cause. Even the right-wing, obvs, except their cause was always 'me'.

I proudly wore my 'Save the Whale' badge in the late '70s and early '80s until I lost it. The '70s and '80s were a great period for badges, badges of all sorts and I still have some of mine, original badges I wouldn't dream of wearing today in case they fell off and were lost. I wore an original X-Ray Spex badge from 1978 when I went to see Poly Styrene at the Roundhouse in 2011 but not since. Today, I wear a Poly Styrene signature badge on all my jackets and coats. Some things never change.

I am currently also wearing my 'Punk Cabaret is Freedom' badge since Amanda Palmer is in the country for a month. That badge wins free hugs from Amanda if you meet her in the street or the theatre lobby and that's not something to miss. I got the biggest hug from Amanda a few years ago for wearing that badge and meeting her after an Alan Cummings show at the Vaudeville Theatre on the Strand so I'll not take the risk of not wearing it. O no.

I wore it last night to see Amanda play at the Union Chapel and I'll wear it tomorrow at her book signing session. You never know, I might get another hug.

Thinking back also made me remember the 'Protect and Survive' campaign. That was when the Cold War came into our houses with leaflets posted to every home in the UK and adverts on telly about what to do in the event of a nuclear strike. Today they would probably be laughable but it was dead serious back then. I never quite understood the ideas behind it though. If there's going to be a nuclear holocaust then I'm not sure I want to survive it. Why would I want to go through those hardships and die a slow, painful death? A moment of obliteration seems preferable. A definite case of, 'Bye world, nice knowing you...'.

I vaguely recall 'Protest and Survive' badges from the time but can't see anything online. Change one letter and change the whole meaning. Am I making that up or is there a gap in internet and wiki history?

I don't see many badges worn these days, no proclamation of what we believe in or support. I've blogged before about seeing young people in Joy Division, The Ramones or The Clash tee shirts, bands that disappeared before they were born, and wondered whether they know what they're wearing or maybe they just think it's a good design? I'll probably never ask any of them but it's good to see the images are still current.

Mind you, *some* people still have badges. Amanda is selling badges at her merch table on her current tour so, naturally, I had to have some. They're a new design and I really like the ampersand paint-brush slash AFP design. 'Ampersand' is one of my favourite songs from 'Who Killed...?' and it's a bit more arty than simple the letters AFP. I have a small 'AFP' badge that I wore until I was asked three times in a day what it meant - I got offended looks when I said it stood for Amanda Fucking Palmer. O dear. Well, you shouldn't have asked in the first place.

One of my favourite badge references is in the liner notes to Kim Wilde's 'Snapshots' record in which she states, 'I wear my Pop Star badge with pride'. Kim clearly understands badges. And she is a Pop Star.

 

Now that Buffy Sainte-Marie finally has some merch to sell at gigs (tee shirts with her looking righteous) she needs a badge line in '#IdleNoMore', 'No No No to War' and 'Cho Cho Fire!'. Let's get some politics back into badges and spread the message.

What do you think?

Five Plays

Last week I saw five plays. I know that's a bit much but I saw three of them in the space of 55 minutes so it wasn't really that extreme. I saw 'High Society' at The Old Vic, 'American Buffalo' at Wyndham's Theatre and the trilogy of short pieces 'Not I/Footfalls/Rockaby' by Samuel Beckett as part of the Beckett festival at the Barbican.

First up was 'High Society', the stage version of the classic film with Bing Crosby, Grace Kelly and Frank Sinatra. The stage is set in the round for some obscure reason which makes the stage even smaller, especially when they do some big dance pieces. It's nice that they use the whole space but I couldn't see why it was needed. I liked the minimal staging with grand pianos rising and falling through the stage at different times and the only constant was a small bar that doubled as a breakfast bar and trebled as a cupboard to display wedding gifts. For, of course, this is about a wedding.

Tracy Lord used to be married to Dexter, a rich playboy and yacht designer but is now going to be married again from her parent's home on Rhode Island. And Dexter turns up the day before the wedding with news that two journalists will arrive to cover the wedding as part of a deal to keep her father's latest affair out of the newspapers. Tracy decides to play the outrageously privileged daughter of wealth and go over the top for the journalists before getting sloshed at the evening's party and swimming naked with one of the journalists when her husband-to-be appears. Could it get any worse? O yes, of course it could.

It's fun as far it goes, lots of music and movement, lots of laughs and dancing. But it didn't make me interested in the characters or like them or care what happened to them. I don't particularly care whether a rich heiress marries the journalist, the bore or the yacht designer and I should. Why was that? I like the film and the characters but that didn't follow through to this play. It wasn't helped by Kate Fleetwood's accent being unintelligable some of the time so I couldn't follow what she was saying or by the loudness of Jamie Parker as the journalist - a bit of subtlety goes a long way sometimes. Something that really irritated me was the long dance sequence that opened the second half - all dancing with little of the main characters to help the story along.

Yes, it was ok, and I'm pleased I've seen it but I won't be going back for a second glass.

The second play was 'American Buffalo' at Wyndhams with the star turns of Damian Lewis and John Goodman. It's a small story set in a neighbourhood junk store in New York or Brooklyn or somewhere where the shop owner has just sold an old coin for a comparative fortune that makes him plan to steal another one from a house around the corner to make another good sale. And that's sort of the story but there are lots of twists and turns along the way along with some laughs.

John Goodman is the amiable store owner with a good word to say for everyone, including the local junkie kid who hangs round the store. Then in comes Damian Lewis as the typical loud-mouth with his 70s porn star moustache and cheap suit. He'll help with the robbery and brings along a gun. But it all goes wrong when the junkie needs money.

I suppose that's the whole story. I didn't get any more really and I wasn't terribly impressed. It was ok but... and that's where I get stuck. The continuous repetition of phrases and questions got irriatting after a while (y'know, the Robert de Niro 'you talking to me?' thing) and that's all Damian Lewis's character seemed to do. I'm sure I missed a lot of very clever acting by being distracted by the repetition and that's the play, not this production or the actors. Wyndham's seems to specialise in working class American plays, with 'A View from the Bridge' a few months back and now this. I'm tired already.

It was good to see John Goodman and I really liked his cool, gentle portrayal of the junk shop owner with his basic trust in humanity. His is a nice character in poor circumstances. I was less keen on the rapid-fire and repetitious porn star of Damian Lewis and the annoyance of Tom Sturridge's junkie.

The third was a trilogy of plays performed as part of the Beckett Festival at the Barbican. Now, I'm not a particular fan of Beckett but sometimes it's worth seeing things you wouldnt normally go to see if ony to open up the mind a little bit and that's what these plays did - illustrate that the theatre and the stage can be many things and don't have to be the same old same old. The trilogy was 'Not I' followed a few minutes later by 'Footfalls' and then by 'Rockaby' all performed by Lisa Dwan and completed in 55 minutes.They were staged in The Pit theatre, many levels underneath the Barbican - so many stairs going down means we must have been close to the centre of the Earth. I was slightly conscious of the sheer weight of building above us.

We were let in to a dimly lit theatre with no lights on the stairs and with emergency exit signs covered up. It's to be seen in pitch black with very few lights, sensory deprivation and atmosphere, just words and some movement. First up was 'Not I' with a totally blacked out stage with a spotlight on lips and teeth spouting words high up above the stage. Speaking at an incredible rate, so fast that I couldn't follow what was being said and, every now and then, she'd slow down and then speed up again, a chatterbox just needing to get the words out. A stream of conscious internal monologue taken to extremes. How on earth could she learn so many, many words and spew them out so quickly? Most impressive!

Beckett had obviously used up his quota of words and the second play, 'Footfalls', replaced many words with the character of Amy pacing slowly back and forth as she carried on a slow dialogue with her (dead?) mother. Pacing back and forth, back and forth, setting up a conscious rhythm to the play. There was slightly more light in this one as Lisa paced across a lighted strip on the floor and her shoes echoed.

The final piece was 'Rockaby' with Lisa in a rocking chair rocking slowly back and forth while listening to her life retold by either herself or someone she knows, I was never sure, every now and then shouting out for 'more!' that keeps her story and her life going and developing until ... the end.

My favourite of the three was 'Not I' and that was also my favourite of the week's worth of plays. It did it's job admirably. It challenges the convention of the play and the stage, the glam and glitz that are totally absent, even the actress is absent other than her mouth and voice. It was most impressive - and so was Lisa Dwan. I'll be watching out for her name in future.

Phones in Theatres

O dear, it happened again, and this time at the venerable Old Vic Theatre. What happened? O yes, sorry but you weren't there were you? A woman decided it was fine to get out her phone to check for messages in the middle of the second half of the play. Admittedly she did it during a boring bit (and I have to say it was a boring song) but that's not really the point. At least she had the decency to apologise and put her phone away straight away.

When she got her phone out I initially kept calm for the few seconds it took to open her messages app and see there were no new messages but, when she closed that and opened another app, that was the sign for my tapping finger to become active. *Tap Tap Tap*. She said sorry and immediately put her phone away. But why did she feel it was OK to get her phone out in the first place and think it's OK to do so in the shared space of a theatre?

 I may be wrong, but I don't recall hearing any 'turn off your phones' announcement in the theatre and, even if there was an announcement, maybe it should be stronger? Maybe ushers out to be trained how to ush properly? There were two ushers behind me so they must have seen the light from the phone but neither stepped forward to say anything.

This happened to me in March and here we are at the start of June and it's happened again. What's suddenly changed in 2015 that people feel able to do this in a darkened theatre? At least she apologised immediately unlike the woman back in March that tried to justify it by saying she was a mother. *sigh*

Paul Smith 'Coney Island (4th of July)'

Today's important news is that Paul Smith announced his new solo album and released the lead song and here's the video for it:



Paul Smith is, of course, the singer, jumper and wordsmith with Maximo Park. The album is credited to Paul Smith & The Intimations and is called 'Contradictions'. It's released in August and is available to pre-order here. Oops, my finger slipped and I accidentally seem to have pre-ordered the record!

It also looks like he might be touring the album so that's something else to look out for. I missed his tour of 'Margins' (his first solo album) so I will need to try especially hard not to miss this one.

'The Merchant of Venice' at Shakespeare's Globe

The summer season at the Globe is really good this year. I've already seen an excellent production of 'Romeo & Juliet' and Friday night was the turn of 'The Merchant of Venice', another Shakespeare play I hadn't seen performed.  It had been raining on and off all day and was getting a bit chilly as we took our seats in the open air theatre but I was looking forward to seeing it for the first time. And then on came musicians and actors dressed for a masked ball to set the scene in old Venice.

There's a lot of storytelling going on in this play and the stories merge and become one as the play progresses. We've all heard of Shylock but it's not solely about Shylock. There's Bassanio who wants to marry Portia and Lorenzo who elopes with Jessica, Shylock's daughter who takes some of her father's riches as a dowery. In order to pursue his suit of Portia, Bassanio needs to borrow 3,000 ducats and he approaches his good older friend, the merchant Antonio who is short of cash but says Bassanio can use his name as surety for any loan he can find. And that's where Shylock comes in as the money-lender who agrees to a pound of flesh as the bond if the loan is not repaid. But he is pressured into this by Antonio's sneers about usury and charging interest on loans so Shylock waives interest in favour of a straight forward deal.

Through all the twists and turns of the play we get to know the characters, their strengths and weaknesses. As the plot goes forward it'sever winding and developing and taking new turns. Clearly, Bassanio must win Portia's hand but who would guess that he wouldn't recognise her later when she appears as the young male doctor of law in the court scene (I suspect that young Bassanio needs glasses). Jessica's eloping with Lorenzo doubles Shylock's determination to stick to the letter of the law and claim his pound of flesh when Antonio fails to deliver the cash on time, despite being offers more ducats by Bassanio. And who would guess that it's Portia, as the young doctor, who finds the solution to Antonio's dilemma and saves him at the last minute by a legal twist just as Shylock is about to extract his pound of flesh. There's a lot going on...

There's also a lot of very subtle and some not so subtle scenes of anti-semitism, something the play is famous for and this production brings out very powerfully. We have the good Antonio that everyone loves because such a nice and generous gentleman and yet as soon as he sees Shylock his demeanour totally changes into cold hate with vitriolic language and he even physically attacks Shylock by grabbing his throat. Why Shylock still agrees to loan Bassanio the money is a puzzlement after this treatment. Even the lovely lady Portia can't help but treat Jessica as a lowly person by handing her a wineglass to hold like a servant and slightly hesitates before including her in her kind words to Lorenzo. It's an oddity of the play really, since there were - according to the historical notes in the programme - only about 300 Jews in the country in Elizabethan times so the vast majority of the audience is unlikely to have met any Jews.

The court scene at the end of the play keeps you on the edge of your seat - obviously Antonio won't die or give up a pound of his flesh but how do we get there through the wtisting and turning arguments? This was performed very well indeed and you can almost see the inspiration strike as Portia hits upon the solution to save Antonio. And then the cruelty comes in by pushing and pushing against Shylock so he loses all the money but then also loses all his private wealth and house, to be left with nothing. Antonio declines his share of Shylock's wealth in favour of Shylock signing it over to Lorenzo and Jessica and provided Shylock converts to Christianity. What chance has Shylock?

The very final scene of resoltion with all the lovers present and the farce of the missing rings ends with Lorenzo and Jessica hearing of their bounty by inheriting wealth from Jessica's father, Shylock, and that should be end of the performance with their future secured. But this production goes one step further with Jessica on her knees wailing at the edge of the stage at the news of her father having to convert and a procession of churchmen in white robes coming on stage with Shylock to baptise him while chanting in Latin. There was a stillness and silence about this scene, with Shylock quietly moaning, almost as if in pain, with each cup of water covering his head as betrays his faith to keep his life. Powerful and shocking.

The staging is quite simple but very effective with a grille backdrop boxing in the centre of the stage for most of the play to represent Venice with sections opening as doors and windows. This changes with the addition of a gauzy silken curtain coming out from the sides to represent Portia's home in Belmont. Bits of furniture are carried out for some scenes, such as tables with elaborate boxes for Portia's suitors to choose (only one casket holds her portrait) and chairs for the final court scene.

The cast were excellent and, as you'd expect, Jonathan Pryce was a powerful Shylock with his real life daughter, Phoebe Pryce, playing his daughter Jessica in the play. She had a nice presence, wild and rebellious with her father and sweetly romantic with Lorenzo, her lover. David Sturzaker was great fun as Gratiano with his one-liners and comic gestures, just like any young man who thinks too much of himself. I also liked Rachel Pickup at Portia going through a whole range of emotions when dealing with her suitors and quietly confident playing the young doctor of law, especially that moment of inspiration when she announces that Shylock may have his his pound of flesh, but only the flesh. Dorothea Myer-Bennett was also great as Nerissa, Portia's hand-maiden with some great comic timing and sardonic looks. I'd also single out Stefan Adegbola as the daft servant Launcelot - can this be the same actor I saw in 'Widower's Houses' earlier this year? He was great fun and full of devil may care energy!

This play is a masterpiece of storytelling with some great set piece speeches ('The quality of mercy...') and this production is excellent. If you're in London (and it's not raining) then you could do a lot worse than head on down to the Globe to see it.

An Evening with Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer at Hackney Empire

On Thursday evening we made the trek over to Hackney to see Amanda Palmer and Neil Gaiman do a show to promote the edition of the 'New Statesman' magazine on the theme of 'saying the unsayable' that they guest-edited. The event was hosted by the 'New Statesman' and, just in case anyone forgot there were big banner adverts reminding us.

The stage was set like an elaborate morning room with a grand piano, a chez longs and a gold embossed chair along with various props including a giant gramaphone. And lots of trailing wires for microphones - I worried about Amanda wandering around with ample opportunity to trip up (she didn't). Both Neil and Amanda were dressed in black and Amanda's pregnancy 'bump' was very prominent - the proud mother-to-be showing off.

The show followed the pattern of the 'Evening with…' shows they toured in America a few years ago and released as a CD, a mix of chat, recitals and songs. Neil opened the show with his poem about freedom of speech, 'Credo', which is printed in the 'Statesman. He read a story about hosting a table at a literary awards ceremony and another about animals vanishing so mankind started experimenting on and eating babies (Amanda crawled under a throw for comfort at this point).  They talked and interviewed each other about having to censor themselves on Twitter and occasions when they hadn't censored themselves and the consequences. There were some interesting tales.

There weren't many songs - Amanda said she didn't know there was going to be a piano - but the first one was 'The Killing Type' and later we had 'Brick' (a Ben Folds song) and a bit of 'Oasis', all with Amanda on piano. She also accompanied Neil singing the song they wrote together, 'I Google You. Amanda also played the touching 'Bigger on the Inside' on ukelele.

And they had guests, some of whom they'd invited to write articles for their edition of the 'Statesman'.  Mitch Benn was loud and played a song, Hayley Campbell read her tale of the end of Twitter, Andrew O'Neill was deliberately shocking in his jokes (well, not that shocking really) and Roz Kaveney read a story. All came together for a general discussion at the end and were very gabby.

The show ended with Amanda playing the marvellous 'Ukelele Anthem' a song I first heard when she played it at her small show at the British Library a few years ago, with Neil crouching beside her and holding up the lyric sheets because it was so new and she hadn't learned it yet. She had to stop half-way through for water to help clear her throat and then started up again. Then it was clap clap clap and the show was over. They were on stage for about 2.5 hours so that's not bad at all!

It was lovely to see Amanda again, after nearly two years. The last time I saw her was at the Roundhouse with the Grand Theft Orchestra when she was touring 'Theatre Is Evil'. That seems so long ago given her previous touring habits. It's 10 years since I first saw her play as part of Patti Smith's Meltdown festival in 2005 and that was also the first time I met her when she signed my copy of 'The Dresden Dolls' album. I'm seeing her again in just over a week at Union Chapel for her own show - I'm looking forward to that!

PS: thanks to whoever took the photos of the pair on the stage I found on the Internet!

Bowel Cancer Screening

This morning I headed towards St George's Hospital to be screened for bowel cancer. I don't have any symptoms - and I don't have cancer - but it's something that happens under the National Health Service when you turn 55. You get a letter explaining what happens, then an appointment and, a couple of weeks before the appointment, you're sent an enema kit. You don't have to turn up, of course, you can decline the invitation but why do that? Especially since my mother had bowel cancer in the late '60s.

The day started with giving myself an enema. You need to do it an hour before leaving home for the hospital so you have time to clean out the bowel. Lie on your side and insert the thin tube into your bum as far up as possible and then squeeze as much as of the liquid into your bowel, hold it in for a few minutes and then head to the toilet to flush it out. Hey presto, clean bowel!

When you get to the hospital and it's your turn to be seen, the nurse sits you down to explain what's going to happen, sign the consent form and then leave you to get changed into a backless gown, some 'modesty' shorts (with a flap in the right place for ease of access) and some non-slip socks. All your clothes go into a plastic bag to take with you. The consultant came in to introduce himself and make sure I knew what was going to happen. He explained that he'd pump some air into my bowel to help open it up and if I needed to pass wind to feel free to do so with no need to be embarrassed. Then I just sat and waited my turn.

A nurse came to pick me up and walk me to the consulting room to be greeted by two more nurses or doctors - I missed what was said in the hubbub of meet and greet, get me onto the trolley on my side and have my bum exposed discreetly. And more talk to check I am who I am, show me the monitor I can watch to see what happens and then I feel a hand slathering on some lube and I'm prodded. Ooo er, it's happening. I suspect a lot of the talk is to distract the patient.

The camera is inserted at the end of a flexible tube, easing deeper into me and I can watch it on the monitor. My bowel is very pink and shiny and the camera pushes gently deeper through the folds of flesh and muscle and I can see inside myself. It slowly eases out so the consultant can check the walls of my bowel for polyps, little growths that might signal possible cancer. If you have any small polyps another function of the camera tube is to cut them off and that's what would be sent for testing to see if they were cancerous. Luckily, I have no polyps and my bowel looks entirely healthy.

The whole thing was over in around five minutes and I was wheeled out into a recovery room to get changed again, get papers from the nurse and then find my way out through the maze of corridors. Since I've been given a clean bill of health then that's it until I turn 60 when I'll be sent a do-it-yourself screening kit to check for any signs of blood. And that was that. It would've been different if they'd found any polyps or even cancerous growths - if they'd found any sign of cancer I would have been sent to the cancer department straight away but that wasn't necessary.

I was surprised by the response to my blog about the operation I had five years or so ago for a para-umbilical hernia, with people wanting to hear about it from someone who's had it done so I thought I'd share this experience in the same spirit. It didn't hurt at all - it was uncomfortable but not painful. It's also remarkable how the natural embarrassment of being in a room with four clothed people while you've got a camera up your bum displaying the inside on a telly seems to vanish. 

So there we are, another little gem from the National Health Service. Prevention and early intervention makes so much sense in terms of my health as well as to the budget of the NHS and aren't we all lucky in this country that such services exist? I'm terribly grateful.

Meera Syal at the Royal Festival Hall

Last week I went to hear Meera Syal at the Royal Festival Hall - the event was supposed to be at the Queen Elizabeth Hall but was moved on the day to a space on the sixth floor of the Royal Festival Hall. The talk was to celebrate the publication of Meera's third novel, 'The House of Hidden Mothers' and was part reading, part interview with Maya Jaggi and part Q&A with the audience.

After a rather long introduction from the RFH curator of the Alchemy Festival and then from Maya (an award-winning journalist but, to me, any reown comes from being Madhur Jaffrey's neice), we finally heard from Meera. She read one of the opening pieces from the novel about two friends sitting in a cafe talking about surrogacy in India and how one of the friends is desperate to have a baby. That segment had all the wit, intelligence and naturalism you'd expect from Meera and the book sounds like it's going to be a good read.

After the reading Maya led off with questions about the themes of the book, about ageing, surrogacy in India, friendship, ambition and family. Meera was, as ever, thoughtful and intelligent in her responses, sprinkling in some humour to lighten the mood as she talked about the book and the background to it. There was a really interesting discussion about changes in India, the modernisation on the one hand and the continual poverty on the other, the shocks that some British Indians can face when they go 'home'. At one point Meera was asked whether she felt India or Britian was her 'home' and she chose Britain - she's a Wolverhampton lass after all.

There was the inevitable question about whether it was becoming easier to get non-stereotypical acting roles these days to when she began.  She said she longed for the day when that question was irrelevant and commented that Madhur and Saeed Jaffrey should have played Cleopatra and Lear but they helped pave the way for her generation. Maya mentioned that Meera had played Beatrice in 'Much Ado', a great production that I saw her in in the Olympic summer of 2012.

The new book is published in June but was available to buy after the session and Meera stayed around to sign it. There was a long queue for the signing and a few words but I got my copy signed. I couldn't help but mention that I'd seen her as Beatrice and had seen Zoe Wanamaker in the role a few years earlier but that I thought Meera played the role better (I said so at the time too). Chris asked if she'd ever thought about playing Cleopatra herself but she hadn't - now, I think Meera would be a great Cleopatra! Let's hope someone has the entirely sensible idea of offering her the role one day soon!

I'm looking forward to reading the book and doesn't it have a fab cover! The paperback of 'Ha ha Hee Hee' has been re-printed with a new cover in the same style and I think it would suit 'Anita and Me' as well. Good marketing but also helps create an individual style for Meera. Happy reading!