Avril Lavigne, A Night In November and Editions.
Avril Lavigne The Point, Dublin
By Tony Clayton-Lea
In a curious cross-fertilisation process, it seems Avril Lavigne, the 18-year-old Canadian faux punk rocker, has encroached on the territory of Blue and Westlife: most people at this sold-out concert, which was shifted from the Olympia Theatre because of demand, seemed to be 10- to 15-year-old girls.
Whether a shift in listening trends is emerging is debatable, but having a packed venue sing along to Lavigne's Complicated and Anything But Ordinary, songs of naive but easily understandable emotional issues, makes far more sense than anything boy bands have offered.
That's not to say Lavigne is a role model of perfectly disaffected proportions. She appears focused and assertive amid the trappings of angst and the naff rock 'n' roll poses; her songs seem honest enough, and that's as much as anyone can ask for in these days of whitewash, chicanery and choreography.
It's a pity, then, that she possesses the stage charisma of a mollusc and that the light show - so much a part of the eye-popping thrill for her audience - is about as exciting as a battery of paparazzi flashbulbs. You would have thought that, having sold more than 10 million copies of Let Go, her appealing debut album, and played numerous gigs to promote it, she might have learned a little about stagecraft.
Yet several of the songs softly kick and punch: Sk8er Boi, Complicated, Mobile, My World, Anything But Ordinary and her new single, I'm With You, are generic, but they're efficient generic. A version of Green Day's Basket Case pleased the boys and highlighted her influences and possible future direction. We await her next step with interest, but whether her fickle audience cares a jot is moot.
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A Night In November at Gaiety Theatre, Dublin
By Gerry Colgan
Almost 10 years after its debut, Marie Jones's one-man play retains all of the humour, relevance and humanity that enchanted its first audiences in pubs and theatres. Dan Gordon was the man with the torch then, now held high by Marty Maguire. There is simply no way not to enjoy and be moved by this extraordinary entertainment.
The story is that of Kenneth, a dyed-in-the-wool Belfast Protestant who finds himself on the road to a different Damascus. His conversion takes place at a soccer match at which the opposing teams are the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland and the prize is advancement in the 1994 World Cup. As the Orangemen roar their hatred and menace, he sees a microcosm of the life he has led and recoils from it.
Back home, he looks at his unthinking wife and considers his future. Soon he decides: to hell with the golf club and the closed society he can no longer tolerate. He heads for the United States and the next match. His companions, picked up in Dublin, are a slap-happy, irresponsible bunch who look no further than the next adventure, and he has the wildest, most liberating of times with them. But, back in Belfast, there are more atrocities.
That is the story, vividly painted by an actor blessed with a mobile face, a flexible voice and a gift for characterisation. Like Walt Whitman, he contains multitudes, and pours them onto the stage with joy. The dominant laughter is underscored by an all too familiar darkness, giving depth and meaning to Kenneth's story. Direction by Tim Byron Owen is beautifully poised, and Robert Ballagh's minimalist set is just right. One for the memory bank.
Runs until Saturday.
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Editions at Lavit Gallery, Cork
By Mark Ewart
The artwork from the 12 printmakers assembled for this exhibition appears to have been selected on the basis of a demonstrable technical rigour and a preference for landscape, still life and figurative subjects.
One common attribute of printmakers is a predilection for rendering imagery graphically. The clearest example is seen here through Catherine Kelly's screen prints, which feature illustrative representations of women playing on a swing and rope, with the particularly vivid colour conveying a pop art punchiness. Ditto Jean Bardon, whose precise etchings of vases are arranged in neatly ordered lines, not unlike a museum's precious miniature artefacts.
Pamela Leonard's etching Windswept Trees has a wonderful fluidity, as the trees are subtly stylised to heighten a sense of graceful, almost poetic movement. The gestural mark making is employed to good effect to describe foliage textures and has a spontaneity that belies the technique's laboriousness.
Sioban Piercy's screen prints of classical architecture show a beautifully subtle tonal range, coupled with a neutral colour palette that gives a ghostly appearance to the subjects. James McCreary's landscape etchings are eye-catching despite their smallness. His mountain views are accentuated by the grainy pixelated effect of mezzotint, which gives a convincing impression of aerial perspective.
Runs until Saturday.
