Scottee2013-05-23T13:17:24-04:00Scotteehttp://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/author/index.php?author=scotteeCopyright 2008, HuffingtonPost.com, Inc.HuffingtonPost Blogger Feed for ScotteeGood old fashioned elbow grease.The Death of Lucy Meadowstag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.29403522013-03-23T14:04:36-04:002013-05-23T05:12:01-04:00Scotteehttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/scottee/
Lucy made the brave decision to transition last year and was supported by the school at which she taught. St Marys Magdalens C of E Primary head teacher Karen Hardmen said she fully supported Lucy's decision. Parents and pupils were told in December that Mr Upton should be addressed as Miss Meadows after Christmas break.
A letter to parents read: "Mr Upton has recently made a significant change in his life and will be transitioning to live as a woman. After the Christmas break, she will return to work as Miss Meadows."
Soon after the Accrington Observer reported 'male teacher will return to class as a woman'; this marked the start of Lucy's harassment by the press. A day after the Accrington Observer printed their article Richard Littlejohn would dedicate this fortnightly column in the Daily Mail to the matter.
Provocatively titled "He's not only in the wrong body... he's in the wrong job" Littlejohn outlines why he thought she should have left her position at the school. He continues (using the incorrect pronouns) by claiming she shouldn't be 'entitled to project his personal problems on to impressionable young children... he is putting his own selfish needs ahead of the well-being of the children he has taught for the past few years'. Littlejohn's article was swiftly removed since Lucy's death but as I write this no statement has come from the editors or Littlejohn.
Littlejojn's previous journalistic exploits look like they were meant for a Radio 4 satire - Horsemeat!Who the hell knows what goes into our food any more?, This is the HMRC hotline ... if you now need the Samaritans, press three and Tough childhood? Get out of jail free.
Dick is no stranger to homosexuality as Marina Hyde wonderfully put in The Guardian. "Richard has referred 42 times to gays, 16 times to lesbians, 15 to homosexuals, eight to bisexuals, twice to 'homophobia' and six to being 'homophobic' (note his scornful inverted commas), five times to cottaging, four to 'gay sex in public toilets', three to poofs, twice to lesbianism, and once each to buggery, dykery, and poovery. This amounts to 104 references in 90-odd columns - an impressive increase on his 2003 total of 82 mentions. There is, alas, no space for us to revisit the scientific study which found obsessive homophobes more responsive to gay porn. But Richard, we're begging you: talk to someone."
To use another title of a recent Littlejohn piece 'Sack a columnist for being offensive? Perish the thought! - Over 4000 people have signed an online petition calling for a public apology from the Daily Mail and for the Editor to sack Littlejohn. I, however am indifferent if he loses his job at the Mail or not; he's a journalist and will find other avenues for his transphobic and homophobic rants. I want to do something more profound. I want to invite him to tea with the T community to educate him, answer any questions he may have and eliminate the fear he obviously has towards trans people.
Littlejohn is not the only one writing transphobic tirades. Three months ago I wrote an article for Huffington about my disgust at Julie Burchill's shoddy 'don't mess with my menopausal mates' article. The Observer quickly retracted the article and an apology was printed.
What should we learn from these articles of hate that continue to be given national platforms? They are a bleak reminder that bullying and transphobia are alive and well in the media, even post-Levenson.
Sadly Lucy's death is not the only story of its kind this week. A UK teenager was jailed for only three and a half years for killing gay teenager with autism by setting him on fire after scrawling homophobic insults on his body; another reminder that we have not yet reached equality.
Sexual and gender equality is not putting Alan Carr or Graham Norton on the telly or where a L.G.B or T storyline isn't just a kiss that ends up on every front page. Sexual and gender equality is about living in a world where those who are LGBT are supported, visible and accepted socially, legally and politically.
Littlejohn in yet another recent transphobic article on gender-neutral toilets writes, "Until recently, the 'trans' crowd has been lumped in with the LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) lobby. Now that gays and lesbians are firmly rooted in the mainstream, the trannies have regrouped."
The Lesbian, Gay and Bisexual communities will continue to stand together with our strong Trans friends (despite their exclusion of from one of the biggest equality charities) to ensure we are all treated with the same equality as any other human being and we will continue to actively speak out against those who stand in the way.]]>The Price of Pop Has Fizz All to Do With My Fat!tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.27333732013-02-21T10:24:59-05:002013-04-23T05:12:01-04:00Scotteehttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/scottee/
In a report issued by the Academy (who represent nearly every doctor in the UK), the doctors are calling for the government to treat fast food like cigarettes and yet again the doctors miss the mark, massively.
Obesity is seemingly the issue that everyone has an opioin on, fed largely by misinformed press headlines like the 'obesity epidemic', and questionable statistics that endorse the idea that every fat person on this great Isle is maliciously killing off our health service.
As much as George Osborne might like the Academy's suggestion of a 20% tax on fatty foods it's not going to do much for Britain's waistline - do you really think a £1 burger newly priced at £1.20 is going to make England thin? Whatever the government decides the best route is to tackle obesity, the price of pop has fizz all to do with my fat!
The suggestions raised by the doctors include a 100 million pound investment into medical interventions such as weight loss surgery. Here is where my many problems lie with this report - none of their suggestions tackle the real issue behind obesity: mental health.
I've had a difficult relationship with food since I can remember. I am the son of a bulimic and as a result I adopted bad eating habits. I also learned that food could supply emotional support at times of need. I am not fat because I'm greedy; I'm fat because I've lived with an emotional eating disorder for over 15 years.
If we are so set on tackling obesity then this report is completely the wrong approach. If someone suffers from anorexia it would be completely ludicrous to mock them in public, cut them open, expand their stomachs and expect them to magically have a new relationship with food. Yet why do we think this is the way forward with overeaters? Twenty per cent of people with eating disorders die - the largest number of fatalities amongst all mental health conditions. If you believe moving take away joints away from leisure centres is going to cure people with food addictions and get the nation slim then we need to talk.
We, as a society need to rethink how we treat obesity - medically and socially. Each day when I leave my house I am confronted by fat phobia - be it shouted from white vans or the huff and puffs of people forced to sit next to me on public transport. I am fully aware my body repulses some of you- but I don't care
Here's a radical notion: some of us chubsters don't want saving, we love being fat. This might sound like I'm contradicting myself but my brain and my fat and completely detached. Every time I sit down to eat a meal I have to re-evaluate my relationship with food; eating disorders are one of the hardest addictions to cure. Unlike drugs, alcohol or fags you need food to survive. Now, with my eating disorders under control, my fat represents a strong, sexy and confident person. I am happy with the body I inhabit.
March sees the start of the third annual Burger Queen pageant. It's a body positive variety show that celebrates chubsters who are able to make positive connections between mind and body, and who aren't afraid of flaunting their flab. It's a radical idea, but one that is becoming increasingly popular- ticket sales are bulging as quickly as the British waistline. Why? As the bullying of fat people increases, it's only natural that an outspoken band of fatties fight back... and we're doing it in sequin bikinis and high heels. Jeremy Hunt eat your heart out.
http://burger-queen.info]]>London Fashion Week - Are You Cool Enough?tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.27111732013-02-18T19:00:00-05:002013-04-20T05:12:01-04:00Scotteehttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/scottee/
There used to be a time when London Fashion Week left me with cirrhosis, bunions and a bedroom full of half eaten canapés, scented candles and half inched décor from the copious parties, after parties, launch parties and wrap party parties. Not to mention the hours spent in the back of a cab in silly clothes rushing to watch thin people walk in a straight line in drafty warehouses.
This year not one email, invite or even tweet has had my name on it. It seems I am out of fashion, unfashionable, passé - but when was I was ever in fashion - or what Vogue would call 'en vogue'?
As a fat gay bloke who wears ladies clothes I guess London Fashion Week isn't supposed to be for me - none of the clobber fits me, none of the designers will allow me to wear it and none of the PR's want my optimism for 'trend' on the front row but even so... am I missing out?
Why have I been left off the lists this season? Although I don't think many who turn up to LFW are on the list - it's a lot of 'don't you know who I am?' and pretense in patent leather shoes. I'm also not one for blagging my way in and lording it up, I'm a bit old fashioned and expect an invite if I'm invited.
This week I received a one line email from someone at Dazed Digital. "Are you doing LFW this year?" I replied, "I think I am too silly for them". He responded with, "They do take it all rather seriously".
A few seasons ago I was told of a few chubby gays who painted their faces pretending to be me and 'my assistant' to get into shows - this year they'll be lucky to get into China White.
Does a Mulberry handbag full of invites equate to success or does it just mean you're happy to turn up to the opening of an envelope? Although I'd like to think it is the latter, sadly I think popularity in fashion circles is reflected by how many LFW happenings you are invited to. This is a sorry state of affairs but fashion has never pretended to be inclusive; in fact it's possibly the only industry that celebrates its elitism.
I am aware this is my bruised ego talking and if I'm honest I'm a little disappointed I'm not as popular with people in over-priced sunglasses as I seemingly once was. This might look like I've got my knickers in a twist because I haven't been invited to a party - which is only half true - but there is a bigger question to ask here about popularity and the playground politic of wanting to fit in.
I suspect I'm no longer 'cool' - a word which in fashion terms is shorthand for young and possibly interesting. I'm 27 years old and no longer are Dazed & Confused able to flog me as 'up and coming'. Nowadays I roll about stages and talk about gender, naffness and class - I am uncool.
What is it that attracts us to the utopia of cool-ism? Are we genuinely excited by new ideas or is this yet another way of expressing our fascination with youth and being young. When I was a kid the gay looking one from Saved By The Bell was the epitome of cool, it seems that now cool is self-aware, cocksure, lives in E2 and smells of mephedrone.
If being out of fashion means you get to stay in your pyjamas, eat biscuits and watch the telly then I'm quite happy to remain that way. This season I'm retiring from fashion, even though I don't think I was ever in.]]>The F Word - Feminismtag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.24708792013-01-14T07:29:08-05:002013-03-16T05:12:02-04:00Scotteehttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/scottee/Fat Is a Feminist Issue on the kitchen table meant I was a feminist before I could even walk. Mum wore the trousers, put food on the table and was liberal in her parenting. I fetched tampons from the corner shop for her, watched her bath whilst discussing my emotions and encouraged to wear whatever I wanted. As an adult I spend half of my life in women's clothes, throwing the gender handbook out of the window and the other half slightly less girly. It's no wonder last week left me a fat feminist femme open jawed, angry and alienated by some of the leading public facing feminists.
For those of you who haven't encountered this week's hate crimes as published by the left wing press, journalist Suzanne Moore kicked off with an article in the New Statesment eloquently expressing how misogyny flourishes during economic downturn. Moore quickly loses her argument/respect when she claims the perceived ideal body for a woman was that of a "Brazilian transsexual" which understandably rustled feathers across social media. The Twitterverse demanded she retract her statement. Moore responded via the Guardian (of course): she wasn't up for saying sorry and she'd worked with trans people so it was OK. Later that day she threw a wobbly on Twitter and told her followers to cut their dicks off if they wanted to be 'more feminist' than her; this led to Moore dramatically exiting stage left with the back of her palm on her forehead and leaving twitter - FOREVER!
Not wanting to be left out of a bit of lazy journalism, national treasure Julie Bindel used her 140 characters to accuse LGBT news site PinkNews of running a 'tranny cabal' against her mates- most of whom who use the word transsexual like a 1970's sitcom would use the word 'darkie'. Bindel goes on to tweet that the trans community are bullies, #irory.
Feminists up and down the county are pulling their hair out before Ann Hathaway even has the chance to get hers cut off. Before you can say Les Miserables renowned femme writer Julie Burchill completes the Holy Trinity of Fallen Feminists with yet an Observer piece on the subject that would leave me shouting at a dashboard on the A2 to Margate on a Sunday afternoon.
Burchill's piece provocatively titled 'Transexuals should cut it out' for the Observer outlines why the trans community should leave her mates alone: basically 'cause we wouldn't want to see them angry as they are all going through the menopause. If this statement wasn't ridiculous enough the rest of the article it is littered with what can only be described as disgusting and intolerable transphobia.
Her opening proclamation details how well she knows Suzanne- they've glugged Bolly and scoffed lobster together! The Patsy and Edina of journalism! Burchill is even godmother to Moore's daughters so if anyone can put this into perspective it's definitely Burchill.
Burchill calls those who oppose the views of not only her pal Suzanne but 'the other JB' a bunch of "dicks in chicks' clothing". Let me remind you this statement comes from a feminist, thinker and acclaimed writer for a lefty publication. Other transphobic remarks include talk about having nuts taken off because 'its all most of them are fit to do', 'their relationship with their phantom limb' and various references to cutting things off and 'expecting' privilege - I can't picture the situation in which the editor thought these were all reasonable, measured and insightful things to say so why they where published? As of yet no one from the editorial team at the Guardian or Observer are publicly owning up to the transphobic diatribe.
Throughout Burchill's ill informed piece there seems to be a fascination with men and their genitalia because only men with penises are transexual. For the record Burchill, gender isn't about what is or isn't between your legs, its far more complex than Xs and Ys. If I constantly told you that your vagina was your identity would you find it hard to swallow?
Bindel is noted for being a 'veteran women's rights and anti-domestic violence activist' as if this was evidence that no person with such attributes could be transphobic. Burchill also states both she and Bindel are from working class origins in an attempt to highlight where they sit on the ladder of oppression - her argument is flawed at every hurdle.
I am bitterly angry that these pithy opions were able to be aired in such a nasty and vitriolic nature that not only break guidelines around inciting hatred towards trans people but I believe break the law under hate crime.
I'm not annoyed Burchill wanted to stick up for her mates, I'm not angered she is uncomfortable with anyone who sits outside of binary gender. I'm outraged at her use of language, bullying tactics and uneducated opinions on trans people. The journalists in question are educated, well read and informed women, and their comments under the Observer/Guardian banner. In a strange sort of way I wouldn't be shocked if the 'Daily Fail' published something like this, We're used to seeing phobic fear mongering from them but it seems that now even the left wing media in the UK deem it appropriate to give transphobia a platform as well as fund it.
As I write this the piece Burchill's bullying has had over 2,000 comments, 6,000 facebook shares and Twitter has been trending more times than Julie has has lobster. I worry about the effects this will have on the trans community, as Roz Kaveney explains in her Guardian response "do you think that what you've written makes it more or less likely that an elderly trans woman living on a housing estate will get jostled on the stairs by her neighbours? Or that a teen trans man will be punched in the street?". Burchill is a femme icon for many young women and young feminists like myself. With this icon status comes a responsibility. Her views endorse transphobia to her many fans and followers, they are factually incorrect and with this prejudice is able to thrive.
I expect the Guardian and Observer desks are manically preparing some sort of damage limitation package but the damage has been done. We all know trans people are not the bed wetting academics that Burchill would have us believe but we need use our voices, blogs and outlets to have it known.
A wise feminist once said to a fat, femme closeted 15-year-old year old from Kentish Town: "If you want to live in a world where you hold you partner's hand walking down the street or have their picture on your desk at work then live in that world, hold your partners hand and have that picture on display." The transphobic outbursts of Burchill, Bindel and Moore last week disapointingly highlight that transphobia is alive and well in circles that should know better. The responsive outrage from feminists of all genders will hopefully lead to solidarity in the face of hate. And trans people will continue to hold hands, display pictures on their desks, and live the brave, bold lives they always have.]]>Camp (as Christmas)tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.21605782012-11-19T19:00:00-05:002013-01-19T05:12:01-05:00Scotteehttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/scottee/
Entertainment turns me on. It has no pretense but mounds of artifice. It's accessible, engaging and unashamedly camp.
I remember when I was very young, in the early 90s, I would try not to gesticulate - I'd hide my limp wrist, keep my hands in my pockets so I wouldn't seem gay or girly.
Meanwhile, on British television, light entertainment was in its heyday: Cilla Black, Bob Downe, Dame Edna, Lily Savage, Michael Barrymore, the Spice Girls - and repeats of Les Dawson, Larry Grayson and the Carry On films. Gender-bending men in polyester-blend safari suits were presenting game shows on primetime. It was outré and risqué rather than politically confrontational.
These were unadulterated show-offs, self-confident, often freaks, but loved by the public. Meanwhile, I was painfully shy, despite my mum's best efforts sending me to youth groups and letting me roam around with the wrong kind of kids.
When I started performing a few years later, there was no alt drag scene; it was all big gay superclubs. Everyone was in jeans and T-shirts and effeminacy was looked down on - 'no fats, no femmes'. I'm a fat femme! I didn't want to be defined by my sexuality - I wanted to be different.
Maybe performance art seemed the way forward for me, a way of glorifying my outsider status and freaking people out with bizarre outfits, bodily fluids, being visible in a different way.
I started my alternative night, 'Eat Your Heart Out', because I was too weird for the cabaret world and not academic enough for the art world. I've always tried to make stuff that's highly visually appealing, but when people call me a performance artist I feel uncomfortable. I want people to enjoy themselves - my references are working-class variety and television entertainers.
For a long time, I've tried to do stuff to make people feel differently about things. How pretentious is that? We're living in this time and entertainment is escapism - people want to escape that world for a few hours.
With 'Camp', my new show at London's Roundhouse, I'm trying to carve out a space where things can be fun and I can experiment without being controversial in a vulgar or grotesque sense. It's a test to see if I can be entertaining without pouring pasta sauce all over people - and it's about coming to terms with my own effeminacy and a public proclamation of the things that have shaped me.
I wanted to do a show other people could bring their mums to. I wanted to present people who are making really interesting work who would never normally share a bill, so I've asked showbiz friends ranging from gay-bar drag acts I met pulling pints in 2004 to Barbican regulars. It's about inventive popular culture with an emphasis on fun. I'm hoping it will be like the 'Royal Variety Show' meets Vic Reeves's Big Night Out for people on Tumblr.
Up until the first broadcast (but more accurately the late 60s when the television came into working class homes) the predominate English speaking voices you would hear would have been local ones. Broadcasts changed this; suddenly a plethora of proper pronunciations not native to the regions were entering the lingo.
Radio and television has changed the way we Britons talk to each other; research into British accents has shown most of our regional dialects are dying. I think the Received Pronunciation endorsed by TV and Radio (circa 1922 - 1979) has a lot to do with this.
TV and radio throughout the later half of the 20th century exploded into living rooms up and down our isle. Our fascination with light entertainment, celebrity and the arts encouraged our addiction to the wireless and the box - and with it - regional dialects softened.
Until the early 1980s TV & radio were mainly dominated by the middle classes adorned with BBC approved RP; thus affecting the pronunciation, vocabulary and colloquialisms of the regions and steering our accents towards a softer, homogenized British accent.
Our accents are incredibly important. They help shape our identity and employ pride in our heritage. They reveal our social status, background and place of origin, all which can be determined with just the word 'bath'. They allow us to build relationships with others immediately and trust each other; according to research, the Yorkshire accent is the most UK's most desirable.
The first act of defiance against this uniformed 'Standard English' came in 1960, almost 40 years after the first BBC radio broadcast. Coronation Street aired on Granada Television and brought the words 'chuck' and 'nowt' on to teatime TV, but The Street was a lonely island in diversifying and influencing RP on our screens.
Fast-forward to 2012 and a rather strange phenomenon has occurred - RP is in decline on prime time. In fact it's almost dead. It's become unfashionable to have the stern newsreader style accent that was once favored for broadcasting.
Many big stars in British cinema have regional accents and presenters with working class accents are heading prime time television programs - Ant and Dec, Tess Daly, Tulisa. The new Radio 1 breakfast show presenter is a lad from Oldham; to get a gig on BBC 6Music you must be a funny Northern bloke. But it doesn't stop there. Advertisers are now actively seeking voice artists with strong regional voices to promote their brands- Sean Bean's broad Sheffield accent for O2, Julie Walters and Jane Horrocks' 'Every Little Helps' at Tesco and the PlusNet broadband's entire marketing strategy celebrates their business based in Yorkshire with "honest" local voices in their call centres. The regional accent has become marketable.
Outré English accents have become the focal point of the prime-time dramality programs - Geordie Shore, Made in Chelsea (so posh it's beyond RP), Desperate Scousewives and most importantly The Only Way is Essex which has had such an effect on the national accent that words like 'vajazzle', 'is it' and 'shut-up' (pronounced 'sha-urpe') have entered the national vocabulary.
Television and radio not only inform us how other people in our country speak but it also informs how we speak. A received pronunciation is just that - received.
What's most exciting about this diversity of accents now being endorsed and encouraged by broadcasting is how it is making the arts accessible to the working classes. Not only does it open up opportunities for actors, performers, presenters and entertainers with regional, working class or non-RP accents, it's also engaging an audience in art forms that may have previously been perceived to be for the middle classes. Lenny Henry's broad Brummie playing Othello this year is a great example of this and could be the answer to the Arts Council's dilemma on how to engage the non-theatre goer.
With the RP accent in recession are we ever likely to see a resurgence of it or has it gone for good?
Not all regional accents are thriving though - Estuary accents associated with the south of the country are also dying out and dialects like the iconic Cockney could be gone within 30 years. Do we need to take action to keep these accents alive? Should we ask East London schools to add rhyming slang to the syllabus as the Welsh did to save their native tongue?
Whatever the future of voice of show business sounds like, revel in your accent, its intricacies and idioms- and be sure you keep your mother tongue alive.]]>How to Lose Friends, Thousands of Pounds and Alienate People - Performing at the Edinburgh Fringetag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.17303682012-08-02T19:00:00-04:002012-10-02T05:12:06-04:00Scotteehttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/scottee/
Everyone knows what the fringe festival is - it has played host to some of the biggest (and smallest) names in show business and chances are if you've live under a rock/Milton Keynes and have never been to the festival, you'll own a DVD from a beige comic that was filmed here.
I am here with a show I have directed called Unhappy Birthday. It is my fifth consecutive year at the Fringe and the once wide-eyed optimism has faded. When I first came to the Fringe I was excited, engaged and encouraged to be here, it felt cultish - full of performers all worshipping the same ideals and willing to give it go.
Before this sounds like I'm an old hippy from Glastonbury who remembers when it was "a real festival", this isn't my angle; I've just come to my senses.
Each year thousands of artists self produce their Edinburgh shows - the Arts Council tend not to fund Edinburgh runs as it is seen as a commercial venture that doesn't reach new audiences. So if you want to show off here you've got to front the cash.
It costs about £300 just to be included in the Festival, and for this pleasure you get 50 words in Ed Fringe version of the Argos catalogue and an email thanking you for your hard earned cash.
Once you've secured your place you need to find a venue to hire. Most will charge you in excess of £3,000 for the use of their lecture hall painted black with no dressing rooms or proper facilities. You shouldn't expect any lights, microphones, technical operators or pazzaz for this price - these are added bonuses that will leave you another £300-£500 out of pocket.
And because you're performing in a car park you have to acquire a PRS and PPL license that allows you to use recorded music in your show. Of course it would be cheaper if venue producers covered this cost in your already extortionate hire fee. So there goes another grand down the artistic drain.
You need somewhere to sleep during your stay. A bog standard two bedroom flat, 10 minutes walk from your venue will set you back another £2k for a month. You could hire an apartment in the Liverpool Hilton for three months for that price and still have change.
After printing, marketing, eating and just existing you're 8 grand down and performing to an average of four people a show that have bought into a culture of walking out of performances if they aren't satisfied after 3 minutes. This, ladies and gentlemen, is apparently a great exercise in showing the world your work whilst having to remortgage your home.
Edinburgh Fringe state on their website "[the Fringe is] an inspiring celebration of the best performance and entertainment emerging from every continent". Does this false economy really give emerging artists and companies room to be included in this 'celebration' or is this a festival as elitist as its audiences? They also state that it is an 'open access' festival, which is the biggest oxymoron since 'progressive house music'.
In short the Edinburgh experience works if you are Sarah Millican and are able to get 2,000 bums on seats a night, most of whom have no interest in the ethics of an arts festival and are more than willing to pay to see 'the woman from the television'.
The Fringe is a monopoly that leaves the big production houses laughing all the way to bank as you pass go and do not collect £200. My new found distaste for the Fringe is a feeling that the money men are benefiting from other peoples' creativity which leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
I'm certain the fringe in its current incarnation is miles apart from its original ethics of showcasing and supporting the arts but like it or not hundreds of companies still and will continue to relocate their lives to another country every August to happily lose thousands of pounds in their quest to gain the appreciation of a plethora of theatre blogs.
Hire your local community centre, put on the same show and invite your local community of non-Guardian reading cynics. Spend the eight grand on people who will be genuinely grateful, effected and appreciative for your efforts.
Unhappy Birthday runs from 2 - 26th August at Assembly Three http://unhappybirthday.net]]>It's London Gay Pride (Minus the Floats, Parties and Me)tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.16444982012-07-03T19:00:00-04:002012-09-02T05:12:16-04:00Scotteehttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/scottee/
Historically Pride was a rally that went past Greater London House, Houses of Parliament and Downing Street, usually the first Saturday in July to coincide with the anniversary of the Stonewall riots. Its aim was to push for political change, equal rights and highlight our community as a force to be reckoned with. This weekend the march will go past Selfridges, H&M and Burberry which says a lot about what is important to Pride London in 2012.
Pride London were asked to host World Pride this year, which is like a normal Pride but encourages foreign gays to come to visit WC1 and join in on the flag waving - a bit like the Jubilee with less cake and more substances. But hold on, before you buy another pink cowboy hat with tinsel trim; Pride are having to scale down the event to cut costs.
Pride London operates as a charity and need to secure enough sponsorship to allow the gays to take over the West End with floats pumping out progressive house (oxymoron). But they haven't been able to balance their budget. In a statement issued on their website Pride London broke the bad news:
Each and every year, Pride London needs to achieve some serious commercial targets to fund the event - and this year, targets are even higher than before, because of increased cost, the sheer scale of the planned event and mounting pressure to deliver a "world class" event. To a backdrop of a more difficult economic climate and tough sponsorship calls considering everything that is happening in London this year, fundraising from both corporates and from within the community has been more challenging than ever. Despite creating a strong sponsorship base for this year's planned event, there is, in the week leading up to the 7th of July, still a shortfall.
As a result, we are returning to the roots of the original Pride London rallies. The 'parade' as we know it will now be a procession. It will cover the same route as planned, but with the exception that there will be no vehicles or floats participating.
So the gays will have to walk. In addition, World Pride events have been cancelled in Soho and proceedings will be cut short in Trafalgar Square - along with the extended licensing hours. But there is a bigger question here to ask; does the demise of gay pride in London tell us its goal of political and social acceptance has largely been achieved in UK? Have advertisers lost interest in the pink pound because we're not segregated in society anymore? Have we finally found homotopia? Or is this just a sign of the recession?
Gay Pride in London has been on a slippery slope after Labour's pink focused reign. The placard queers who fought for abolition of Section 28, equal age of consent, employment equality and legal recognition of our partnerships have achieved everything they fought for. We're now left without a fighting political agenda, and are faced with the reformation of Pride and a generation of young LGBT people who have grown up with reasonable equality.
Pride may not be fighting for anything but globally there is still a lot to fight for. Pride in London doesn't even celebrate the previous battles for equality waged by an older generation of queers. Gay pride in London has no spunk or drive, it is limp and frivolous when it should be passionate, caring, referential and progressive. It lacks a message that a community and sponsors can support, or even enthuse the next generation to have a sense of ownership...not to mention real pride. The idea of Pride is bizarre and bi-polar: "accept us because we're the same as you... but we're also different". The death of Pride is imminent.
Before I lead you to believe Pride Day is a day of nothingness, Pride London are planning making their 'voice heard' on the issue of decriminalising homosexuality with a modelling competition in Soho. I'm sure this sends a very strong message to the Ukraine who are currently making moves to make homosexuality illegal.
The modelling competition is, and I quote, "looking for someone more than just a great body, great look and great personality" - because we all know the decriminalisation of homosexuality across the globe will be fought by someone in Abercombe & Fitch with a six pack and pearly veneers.
I won't be attending Pride this year. I'm fine being a homosexual any day of the year. Gay is a lifestyle choice and like Pride I don't have the cash to fund it.]]>Are You on Twitter? #FollowMetag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.16235312012-06-25T19:00:00-04:002012-08-25T05:12:04-04:00Scotteehttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/scottee/
The idea of being able to purge the clutter that floats about my brain for a viewing public is exciting. I'm aware my vegan dinner, lack of yellow Dr Martens in size 10 or bus journey with Russell Tovey are not of great interest to the majority of the Great British public but for those 3145 people, robots and Westlife fans that follow me it is.
For this reason I love Twitter and freely share the ins and outs with my life with anyone who wants to follow me. Twitter allows you to revel in your own ego under the banner of 'keeping up to date with your friends' lives' and for this I'm truly thankful, but underneath it all are we just procrastinating with hashtags? Or will our micro-blogs reveal secrets into our online lives for future generations?
In January filmmaker Tim Brunsden asked me if I was interested in collaborating on a episodical live documentary about the act of tweeting and my frustration at not being as popular as Russell Grant (40,000 followers).
Over the next two months, from an isolated room in Liverpool my aim is to devote some serious time to uncover the true secret of Twitter popularity and become a twitlebrity. Over the four episodes I want to attempt to trend world wide, undercover the secrets of gaining followers and find out why its such an important part of the social media kit.
More info on the Follow project - http://www.andfestival.org.uk/event/online-follow]]>Union Jack Cushions Reduced - Nationalism Discontinued?tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.15889492012-06-12T19:00:00-04:002012-08-12T05:12:06-04:00Scotteehttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/scottee/
Americans proudly salute their flag every morning in school, pitch it on their lawns and fly it from every available rooftop. We have ours printed in China on sweat shop T-shirts and sold to us when we've been invited to a Jubilee barbeque and need something to wear. The irony is almost too much to bear.
We Britons have an awkward relationship with our flag. I was born on the same day as the Brixton riots and grew up in a un-United Kingdom fuelled by racial tension, rioting and far right political groups who commandeered the Union flag as their symbol. By the early 90s our flag was not a symbol of pride but something that identified you as a 'a nationalist'. As a child the famous red, white and blue scared me. It stood for something I was uncomfortable with. Confronted with it plastered across Oxford Street to celebrate a woman having the same job for 60 years, those same awkward feelings arise. When going through an unfamiliar area anywhere in the UK, the sight of a George Cross and/or Union flag always make me think twice about walking alone. Should we really be scared of a flag that is meant to represent unity?
I think my feeling is generational. Friends of a similar age have the same association with the Union flag; and its connotations run deep. But when I was recently working with some East End pensioners, their feelings toward the flag were of pride. Some women were even wearing personalized Union flag brooches "not 'cause of the Queen, 'cause we're British ain't we?!".
The day after our Jubilee weekender I was shooting a new short film. My director passed me a vital prop in the film - a bunch of flowers. These happened to be a Jubilee bouquet that was reduced from £7 to £1.50. But the irony doesn't stop there. On closer inspection it seems the blue flowers were fed dye to make them fit in with the national colour scheme. There is an analogy here about the Jubilee celebrations. Last summer a spontaneous feeling of community came out of the Royal Wedding - we weren't encouraged to throw parties funded by community grants. We lined the streets with flags and wore Union Jacks because it was spontaneous and we decided we were proud - a decision untainted by the BBC, the high street or government.
Is the future of our flag in jeopardy? Has our flag become a logo that flogs cheap apparel during times of nationalism decided by marketing teams? If Scotland gain independence do we need to change the flag?
I'm aware I'm projecting a feeling that is possibly unfashionable as you read this sipping your Fortnum & Mason Jubilee Tea sat on an ASDA Union Jack cushion looking at your Primark Union flag diamante iPhone case. But I wonder if those far right groups would have stolen the Union flag as their symbol of 'England for English' if they knew it was created by a Scottish, gay monarch in the 1600s? Having that knowledge behind our flag helps reinvent my relationship with it, not a piece of printed plastic.]]>Gay Marriage - An Issue of Consciencetag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.15454912012-05-25T19:00:00-04:002012-07-25T05:12:18-04:00Scotteehttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/scottee/
This week, Number 10 announced that MPs will be allowed a free vote on gay marriage because like abortion, equal marriage was "an issue of conscience". Why does our government seem to act on sexuality as if it's a lifestyle choice? Nothing says choose me more than social exclusion, risk of losing family, friends, abuse and attacks that even in the UK in 2011 lead to death.
A free vote will mean MPs are able to vote as they wish without scrutiny of their party leader, which has left many on the left worried the bill will not be passed, but it is still thought that the vote will go through. Are we supposed to believe that MPs like home secretary Teresa May who has previously voted against the age of consent (1998) and against adoption rights for homosexuals (2002 but later "changed her mind" on BBC Question Time) will allow us mere homosexuals marriage?
My Mum and Dad have been together for 28 years and are what American immigration shouts across JFK airport "a common law". They have seen their friends meet, marry, break up, make up, divorce and often remarry quicker than they could get through US immigration, and have stood by their decision not to marry but importantly made this decision as a couple. Unlike my folks, I would like to marry my boyfriend but unlike my parents this choice is out of my hands because of my given sexuality.
If I'm being honest I love the idea of gay marriage and not because I am one of them, allowing gays to marry (as opposed to gay marriage) subverts the idea of what a marriage is, what it means and what it can be, not to mention radicalising the gendered roles of a husband and a wife, all of which makes me excited. It also feels about time, when I told my Roman Catholic nan we couldn't marry she was shocked to think I wasn't seen as a good person in the eyes of the law (cue aww).
Peter Thatchell raises and interesting argument on his Twitter asking Cameron if he would put forward a free vote on race equality? No. But this echo's my hypothesis that government think sexuality is a preference.
As attractive as the idea of waking up and asking myself what sexuality do I fancy being today, this isn't the case. What I find more interesting than people in suits pretending they are doing the right thing is the anger my heterosexual friends have towards inequality in marriage, in fact I know more heterosexuals who have posted rants on their Facebook status' than my homosexualist mates - is gay marriage an issue for the gays?
We were thrown civil partnerships back in 2004, a convenient half way house that wouldn't rock the boat too much and of course my community lapped it up. Was I the only queer who thought we were being fobbed off? I'm aware I'm asking more questions than I am answering, but I'm baffled the decision of equal anything is still controversial in 2012.
Will gay marriage be approved? Who knows but I hope the MPs bring their issue of consciousness to the party. The only thing you can guarantee are the front pages of the right wing press printing "First Gay Divorce - Told You It Wouldn't Work!']]>My Love/Hate Relationship With the Critictag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.15358992012-05-22T19:00:00-04:002012-07-22T05:12:24-04:00Scotteehttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/scottee/Unhappy Birthday an immersive theatre show I've been working on over the last 15 months with Amy Lamé. The show opened in London at the start of the month, theatre types would call the two week run a 'sell out', I'm more inclined to call it a 'smash hit' but in real language the punters came, enjoyed it and inflated our egos but all of this glory was largely down to the views of other people who were force fed complimentary cake and sweetened with party bags on opening night - the critics.
Unhappy Birthday has already collected more stars than the head waitress at McDonalds's from some of the most respected arts pages bar one. I'm eagerly awaiting the words one woman. 'Eagerly awaiting' should translate as 'manically refreshing her website as often as possible without any Wi-Fi in this sponsored accommodation', only to find it's still not up and I've turned mental in the process of worrying what this woman thinks of my work. I'm not usually one for reviews or worrying if they even enjoyed 'the experience' so this is new territory for me. Trying to talk myself down, I discussed my fears with Lamé who responded with 'of course you're worried, it's your directorial debut and if this goes well you'll get more directing gigs' - this is my fear: that my future career of telling performers what to do is in the hands of a journalist.
Critics have a bit of a reputation for watching your work with what locals up here would call 'a face like a smacked arse' but when I forced her to sit in my eyeline and wear a party hat like everyone else she looked engaged and even LOL'ed - why was I staring at her during the show as if I could predict her review or manipulate her experience? I even nervously introduced myself to her before the show as if to say, "now, I'm a real person please be nice." But she isn't paid to be nice, she's there as an elected official of the lefty middle classes who hang on to every nine letter word she prints whilst sipping their fair trade coffee in Islington patisseries.
Now before we think this post is about criticising the critic I want to get something straight - the art of critiquing is just that, an art: Finely crafted, but like your Nan's water colour challenge, everyone can have a go but very few are Picassos. A great critic gives nothing away and lets you in on everything with adjectives you end up having to Google. As much as I love the idea of 'the people' reviewing theatre and posting it on the plethora of audience sites flooding the net, they are often never read/any good. Critics are people paid to have formalized opinions that we believe and buy into, but their greatest attribute is the power of a readership that can see your shows sell out or close too soon.
Ultimately the success of any piece could be down to just one person's grasp of your work, this one person has the power to sway the latte lovers of N1, otherwise known as theatregoers. But who wants an audience of theatre goers when you could fill the rafters with real people and make exciting things happen?
Does it matter what the critics think? Yes.
Do I care? Possibly too much/probably not enough.]]>