I’m a big fan of the ICA. I even like getting there, which is unusual… I’m extremely impatient and getting from A to B is not nearly as exciting as sitting in A Bar. However, strolling under the Admiralty Arch and down The Mall is to bathe in London’s glory. It’s also one of my favourite things to do. Of course, I have to avoid the hundreds of tourists, who are often nagging me to get in their photo; they think I’m Mick Jagger. (I’m not joking – this has happened a few times. Turns out, despite being one, I don’t look like a chick in her twenties.)
I’ve recently been to two absurdly good evenings at the ICA. I missed this year’s Hay Festival which really shook me up, and not in an Elvis fashion. I’ve only been to Hay once, but promised (myself – no one else cared) I’d go every year from that moment on. But unfortunately, I was broke and ended up drunk elsewhere – the story of my life. This is not a cry for rehab admittance; it’s just me admitting shit.
Anyhow, I decided to seek out something Hayish. I caught wind (not a Wales gust – phew!) of an evening hosted by The Independent Alliance of Publishers at the ICA, and booked tickets to three talks sharpish. One by the hero I’ve been banging on about – Alan Bennett, one by Simon Armitage and one by Edna O’Brien (I had no idea who she was, but liked what Wikipedia had to tell me)
There was a good 2 1/2 hours of talking and I was captivated throughout. Alan shared stories of the tramp lady who lived in his garden. Simon Armitage read some of his finest poems, including the stunning An Accomodation, which you must watch…
And Edna O’Brien told Kirsty Lang (and us) about her work, the banning of The Country Girls and her failed marriage; she is an extraordinary woman who has overcome all forms of oppression.
I purchased Edna’s memoir Country Girl, and stood awkwardly while she signed it. Awestruck, I couldn’t get any words out. On the whole I have a lot to say, so being rendered speechless is not something I’m comfortable with. It happened last with Craig, from Hollyoaks…
I left the ICA feeling smug. I’d had my own little Hay, without going to Wales.
I returned to the ICA a few weeks later to see Pussy Riot: A Punk Prayer. The film follows the Russian protest group Pussy Riot. It focuses on the three girls arrested for protesting in Moscow’s Cathedral of Christ the Saviour: Ekatarina, who has now been released, and Maria and Nadia who are still in prison. The case has sparked international interest…
The film is an eye-opener to the juridical system in Russia. The jurors text on iphones, and the courtroom wail and clap as if they’re at a football match – ironic considering the girls are behind bars for hooliganism. Further irony can be found in Putin’s comments that the protests are reminiscent of the Bolshevik’s suppression of religion, yet we watch what can only be described as a Soviet Union style show trial.
Hmmm… Putin. I think it is time to get some PUssy rioT IN your policies.
There are some great touches, including interviews with the parents of the girls. In most cases they support their daughters; Nadia’s father even contributed to the lyrics of ‘God Shit’. The only flaw, as my film whizz girlfriend pointed out, is the structure. The opening would have been more gripping, had we seen clips from the trial.
The Pussy Riot are intelligent chicas who are fighting something HUGE through art and music. I like them a lot. What I don’t like is that they’re in jail. FREE PUSSY RIOT! We shouted running down The Mall. Typical Mick Jagger. Always up to something.
