Latest news with #Mackintosh
Glasgow Times
20-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Glasgow Times
This is the official 5 top things to do in Glasgow city centre
The organisation is responsible for boosting tourism and promoting the city at home and abroad. It has given people a handful of ideas of what to do in the city centre. What do you think of the ideas and what would you tell people who come to the city centre they should visit? The Visit Glasgow ideas include museums, music, art and literature. The list of 'top things to do in Glasgow's city centre' is: Learn about the history of the bagpipes at the National Piping Centre in Cowcaddens. (Image: Getty) Observe the beautiful interior at the historic Mackintosh at the Willow tearooms in Sauchiehall Street, designed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh. (Image: Newsquest) Explore the vibrant street art on the mural trail with many established murals on gable ends and a number of recently created pieces, the city is home to a wealth of public art. (Image: Newsquest) Discover one of the world's largest collections of Burns work at the Mitchell Library at North Street Charing Cross. One of Europe's largest public reference libraries, it is home to many collections, including one dedicated to Scotland's national Bard. (Image: Newsquest) Explore works of contemporary artists at the Gallery of Modern Art in Queen Street. Home to new and emerging artists and also a venue for temporary exhibitions, the building with the statue of the Duke of Wellington on his horse, complete with a traffic cone, itself a work of art, which is synonymous with Glasgow. (Image: Newsquest) Visit Glasgow says this is just a few of the many attractions and activities the city centre has to offer. On its social media posts, it states: 'Looking for things to do in the city centre on your next visit to Glasgow? Here are just a few.' More information can be found at Do you agree with the Visit Glasgow 'top' suggestions or do you have any other ideas for a great visit to the city centre? Let us know in the comments below or at what your favourite thing to do is in the city centre.
The Herald Scotland
17-07-2025
- General
- The Herald Scotland
I fear for Glasgow's listed buildings in the hands of city's leaders
This week, Mark Smith wrote that an appeal by the owner of the Vogue cinema in Possilpark to revoke the category C listing was thankfully rejected by the reporter appointed by Scottish ministers ("Incoherent, inconsistent, confused and ineffective", The Herald, July 14). Due to a communication failure between Glasgow City Council and Historic Environment Scotland, the empty cinema had already been partly demolished, a failure which was underlined in the reporter's decision. On June 17, Glasgow City Council's planning committee met to approve or reject the proposal for a 356-bed student block which would utterly obscure the south elevation of Mackintosh's Category A-listed masterwork, the Glasgow School of Art. It was clear that some members of the committee could not read the drawings provided by the applicant and I was utterly astonished by their complete lack of critical assessment as they approved the proposals, against the advice of Historic Environment Scotland, thereby putting in jeopardy the 'faithful reinstatement' of the building promised by the art school leadership. Consequently, I am genuinely fearful about the future of the city's listed buildings and its architectural heritage in the hands of its current leadership, councillors and planning officials. Professor Alan Dunlop FRIAS, Aberfoyle. Read more letters When small isn't beautiful Alister MacLeod (Letters, July 14) asked whether large numbers of mini-wind power generators might feasibly replace 'giant wind turbines' and be effective suppliers of electric power to the grid. Unfortunately, small turbines can deliver only small amounts of power and, as he surmised, the number of mini-generators would be huge. To a first approximation, the power generated by a wind turbine is proportional to the square of its diameter. A typical turbine at the Whitelee wind farm has a diameter of 93 metres and generates a 'notional' 2.2MW of power. To generate the same power using turbines one hundredth of this size (0.93 metres diameter) would require 10,000 such units. Deploying turbines only two feet (0.6 metres) in diameter would require in excess of 25,000 units. Connecting such large numbers of generators to the grid is quite impractical. In our lifetimes we have become used to simply flicking a switch to get power in our homes and we fail to appreciate just how 'power hungry' we have become. The electric kettle in our kitchen requires power equivalent to that of four horses. A toaster needs the power of a pair of horses. A typical domestic gas boiler used to provide hot water and central heating uses power equivalent to that of 40 horses. We are perhaps used to feeling the power of the wind blowing on our faces or the heat from the sun burning our skin. In reality, however, neither wind nor solar power are energy-dense and, as long as we seek to enjoy our power-hungry lifestyles, we will require energy-dense power sources such as fossil and nuclear fuels. Norman Bolton, Newton Mearns. Let's have more culture For good reason the Letters Pages in The Herald tend to be dominated by political, economic and social issues such as the constitution, international conflicts, taxation and the gender debate. Many of the contributors take entrenched positions and there is a limit to how many circles can be gone round. Should there be space for discussion on arts and cultural items that have featured in The Herald? In the last few weeks I took on board two of Neil Mackay's recommendations and would have missed them otherwise. Firstly the film Make it to Munich is simply a heart-warming story, in particular the genuine friendship between Ethan (he suffered life-threatening injuries in a road accident) and his consultant. Despite, I'm guessing, having a 40-year age difference, they came across as simply being great mates out cycling. Secondly I've just finished the first part of the book On the Calculation of Volume, which Mr Mackay also strongly recommended. It's not the sort of book I'd normally hear about, never mind buy and read, but I found it strangely intoxicating without really understanding why. I'm looking forward to the second part and trying to figure what it is about the writing that grips me. I'm aware of the occasional letter for example on a concert review or about the BBC. I think it would be good to broaden the Letters Pages even further. Certainly Neil Mackay broadened my outlook and that can never be a bad thing. Willie Towers, Alford. Protect our libraries With the desperate situation in today's USA of libraries being metaphorically set on fire, could we in Scotland show an example by expanding the service instead of shutting down access? The pathetically small amount of cash needed to continue staffing school and local libraries doesn't come close to the wasted finances over recent years. No matter what your beliefs, woke attitudes, whatever, being able to research and discuss should always take precedence. Jim Campbell, Bearsden. Yesterday's Picture of the Day by reader Jackie Gordon (Image: Contributed) Damselfly confusion Jacki Gordon's Picture of the Day today (The Herald, July 16) was labelled as being a dragonfly and damselfly feeling the love. Sorry, it's a nice photo captured well, but let down by an inaccurate caption. The photo, as probably most viewers will realise, is in fact of a male (the blue-coloured one) and a female damselfly mating. Whether or not they are in love is not for me to say. While this not a guaranteed identification of the species it's likely they are common blue damselflies. (Other blue species are of course available.) Alastair Clark, Stranraer. Just sport, please. Nothing more The padding-out of every single sports event on television, to include pre-match, mid-match and post-match interviews and analyses, has reached new lengths (or heights/depths /limits?). Perhaps we could have just watch the sports without expert advice? Allan McDougall, Neilston.
Chicago Tribune
15-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
How Disney's ‘Beauty and the Beast' first brought families to Broadway
The new Disney tour of 'Beauty and the Beast' playing this summer at the Cadillac Palace Theatre is introducing bookish Belle, clever Chip and garrulous Gaston to younger generations who were not even born in 1993 when Disney decided to take a stab at turning an animated movie into a Broadway musical. They're also unlikely to know the significance of this particular musical in the history of the art form. But in fact, 'Beauty and the Beast' sparked a revolution in bringing family audiences back to Broadway. And the success of the show changed the face of the Disney organization. In the 1980s, the British producer Cameron Mackintosh had come to dominate the market for massive musical spectacles with a succession of shows: 'Cats,' 'Phantom of the Opera,' 'Les Misérables' and 'Miss Saigon.' These productions played London and New York and toured all over the world, running for years in cities from Cleveland to Green Bay, providing a boon to historic theaters like the Auditorium Theatre in Chicago, which programmed such musicals for years. Mackintosh's secret? His touring productions, which crisscrossed the country in fleets of trucks, were fully the equal of the shows in London and New York. The touring circuit had previously been dependent on stars, but humans are finicky and capricious. Mackintosh had figured out that the better business model was to make the entire production the star. That way, few knew and even fewer cared about who was or was not playing Fantine, say, on a given night. Mackintosh was an independent. The big U.S. studios, like Disney, had previously concluded that Broadway, with its high production costs and risks, did not offer enough of a potential payoff to be worth their time. But by the early 1990s, they were beginning to realize how much money Mackintosh had been making. Something else had happened, too. Disney had decided to reboot its animated franchise with a series of new musical movies that were heavy on songs. The studio had found an enormously gifted duo named Alan Menken and Howard Ashman, who'd made a splash in New York with a 1986 off-Broadway show named 'Little Shop of Horrors.' Although Ashman died from AIDS at the age of 40 during the creation of the film version of 'Beauty and the Beast' (just weeks before its release), the pair wrote eight songs for the movie, following up on their 1989 success with 'The Little Mermaid,' a film that had won two Academy Awards. Even more than 'Mermaid,' 'Beauty and the Beast' was very much constructed as a classic Broadway musical, with Belle set up as a Gigi-like heroine. The title song won an Oscar for best original song and the rest of the score was filled with gems. Which could not be said of most of the live shows on Broadway at the time. Frank Rich, then the chief critic for the New York Times, wrote a seminal article in December 1991 calling the movie musical 'The Hit That Got Away,' saying 'the best Broadway musical score of 1991 was that written by Alan Menken and Howard Ashman for the Disney animated musical 'Beauty and the Beast.' Rich noted, pointedly, that the pair had never worked as a team on a Broadway musical. 'Disney had just not thought stage musicals were the right business for them,' Menken said in a recent telephone interview. 'But although 'Beauty and the Beast' was an animated movie, it actually had a really strong stage sensibility.' And, of course, it had those hit songs, including some that had hit the cutting-room floor and could be put back into use. Disney's chairman at the time, Michael Eisner, had also read Rich's article and was well aware of the movie's theatricality. So he ordered up a Broadway stage version of 'Beauty and the Beast.' Up until that point, Disney had never done a full-blown musical, nothing much, really, beyond its early theme-park performances with foam heads and ice shows. 'Michael was a giant fan of theater. He was a former theater student, so he cared deeply about the form,' said Thomas Schumacher, by far the most important Disney executive when it comes to what became a succession of stage musicals, developing in sophistcation and specifically theatrical artistry, but moving through a door opened by 'Beauty and the Beast.' In essence, the show became the animated movie translated to the stage. That was all that it occurred to Disney to do. (That would change, to spectacular effect, with 'The Lion King' as Schumacher became the head of what morphed into Disney Theatricals, and Julie Taymor was brought on board and creative people wrestled with the problem of a movie starring a cast of animals, not period French folk.) 'I think of 'Beauty and the Beast' was the show we did that is the closest to the original Walt Disney ethos,' Menken said. 'The look of it. The style of it. The Bavarian village. And, of course, it's the most theatrical, given Gaston, Belle and 'Be Our Guest.'' The film had been Menken's last collaboration with Ashman, searing the memory of his beloved creative partner. The famed British lyricist Tim Rice had come on board to help Menken with the stage musical. But when it came to writing the additional songs clearly necessary for a full-blown musical, Menken no longer had Ashman, who had pitched the idea for an animated movie version of 'Beauty and the Beast' in the first place. 'I found a cassette one day,' Menken said, 'from back when we were using cassettes. I think I was going to record over it. But when I played it, I heard Howard and I working on a song for 'Beauty and the Beast.' We were struggling to find the right tone and the right music.' They found it of course — a romantic, swirling aesthetic, filled with gorgeous melodies and all of the vibrancy of the original animated film. Only with living people. As part of its animated sensibility, director Robert Jess Roth's original production of 'Beauty and the Beast' had plenty of knock-out theatrical tricks, including a clever idea to put Chip, the talking cup from the film, on his own on-stage tray, seemingly making him a head-only character. Above all, the show delighted audience with its 'Be Our Guest' centerpiece, a dancing-flatware tribute to Disney's 'Fantasia,' as well as its famous moment of beastly transformation wherein Belle finally got all of her heart's desires. The show was never a critical favorite; reviews on Broadway were tepid, for the most part. 'There was a lot of cynicism,' Menken said, 'about Disney moving in on Broadway. We were pretty much treated with derision.' Any such derision did not hinder the show's success. The original Broadway run of 'Beauty and the Beast' production would play for 5,461 performances (some 13 years), and became the tenth longest running show in Broadway history. According to Schumacher, the original production has seen more global reproductions than 'The Lion King' or pretty much any other title you might mention. 'It is beloved around the world,' Schumacher said, simply enough. 'Beauty and the Beast' also brought kids and their parents to Broadway. Disney quickly realized that these titles could attract groups of four or more and, in the years that followed, Schumacher's team developed sophisticated pricing and marketing strategies that were aimed at families and would also be used for 'The Lion King' and 'Aladdin,' shows still playing in New York and attracting an audience that constantly renews itself as kids age into their target demographics. None of that would have happened without the massive success of 'Beauty and the Beast' — a new kind of musical that was a long way from 'Cabaret,' 'A Chorus Line' and 'Chicago' and that proved Broadway didn't have to be just for adults. Review: New tour of 'Beauty and the Beast' lives up to all the expectationsNow, the all-new U.S. tour, which has freshened the title without removing its traditional appeal, is focused on a new generation of families. For Menken, of course, the success of 'Beauty and the Beast' came in the wake of his heartbreak over Ashman's death. But he wrote a new song, 'Home,' for the stage show in tribute to his friend and 'seamless collaborator.' 'Home,' with its lilting melody, was the repurposing of a separate song, 'My Old Friend,' Menken had written after Ashman's death. By consciously doing so, Menken found a way to write Ashman into the stage version of 'Beauty and the Beast' and not just the animated movie into which the late genius had poured his heart. 'Is this home?' Belle sings in 'Home' of a castle that seems at first like a very chilly spot, before the Beast transforms into her true love. 'Is this what I must learn to believe in?' she sings, gaining in her certitude. 'Try to find something good in this tragic place …' Belle finds that good. So did Menken. So did Disney. And audiences in Chicago, few of whom know his history, currently are enjoying the good that came from 'Beauty and the Beast' every night.
Mint
12-07-2025
- General
- Mint
Footwear, power, and colonial politics in British India
In 1805, a British official visited the court of the Peshwa in Pune. Writing later, he described his host as 'much the handsomest Hindu I have seen", with a perfect 'gentlemanlike air". His appearance, James Mackintosh added, 'had more elegance than dignity" and didn't quite fit his preconceptions of what a leading prince would look like. The Peshwa was dressed in simple garments, and his 'throne", in an equally unassuming durbar hall, was just a sheet of white, with a few pillows thrown over it. But Mackintosh had another specifically interesting comment to make: 'no lady's hands, fresh from the toilet and the bath," he wrote, 'could be more nicely clean than (the Peshwa's) uncovered feet." The white man's attention to feet need not surprise us, for this part of the human anatomy played a significant role in colonial politics. Mackintosh himself, as he entered the Peshwa's presence, had had to remove his 'splendidly embroidered slippers", and go in with toes (nearly) exposed (he probably kept his stockings on). Across the centuries of their presence in India, issues around shoes and feet would haunt the British repeatedly. For instance, in 1633 when Ralph Cartwright, an English envoy, sought permission to trade from the Mughal governor of Orissa, the latter 'presented his foot to our Merchant to kisse". Twice Cartwright refused to bend, but in the end 'was faine to doe it". The symbolism is obvious: one party was the superior, the other a supplicant. In Mughal court culture this was not necessarily an insult: as the historian Harbans Mukhia observes, imperial foot-kissing was often a privilege, and most had to make do with touching lips on carpets or the ground instead. It is likely that by offering his foot to Cartwright, the Mughal governor was indicating favour. Yet, the same ritual could also, of course, be deployed to humiliate. In 1520, when the Bijapur sultan sued for peace after losing to Krishnadevaraya of Vijayanagara, the emperor agreed—provided the sultan kiss his feet. Bijapur declined and the war continued. The British, coming from a different culture, saw things decidedly from the insult side of things. It was common courtesy in India, for example, to take off one's shoes when entering any space of importance; white officials, though, saw exposed feet as improper. For generations, therefore, they negotiated for special treatment, success and failure depending on political winds. The second governor-general, Lord Cornwallis, thus, was able to meet a Mughal prince on his own terms: 'his lordship," we read, 'went into the imperial presence with his shoes on". This, when only four years before, Cornwallis's predecessor had to 'yield" to a whole series of 'indignities", such as 'going into the presence with his shoes off, sitting behind the prince on his elephant, and fanning him". What had changed was that the Mughal prince was visibly weaker; he could no longer insist on imperial protocol. In time, the British would assume the right to keep shoes on even inside temples and mosques. It was an uphill battle, though. In Gwalior, for example, an agent took umbrage to how the formidable anti-British queen, Baiza Bai, summoned him 'any day at any hour to dance attendance", making him 'sit on the ground without shoes", on the 'left side instead of the right side" of her throne (the left being less honourable). It would be 12 years—and after Baiza Bai's ouster from power—before the British would succeed, at last, in having the Gwalior durbar modify custom; in 1844, it was reported, 'we all sat on chairs with our boots on." Of course, this was also due to altered political realities, given that the state was now under more thorough British control, and had to, therefore, accept white officials' diktats. The location of the chair upon which British officers sat also mattered—in the 1870s, when the ruler of Baroda sought to have the governor of Bombay sit on his left during a proposed visit, it was stoutly resisted. The maharajah pursued the matter to London—and failed. In Hyderabad, meanwhile, it took until 1869 for the British to be able to wear shoes in the court of the nizam, let alone use chairs. An earlier ruler, when requested by a Company official for a chair, is said to have sneered that he continue to sit on the floor, but with a pit dug 'to dangle his feet in". But in the late 1860s, the reigning nizam was a child, and the British saw a window to force change. So, at the boy's installation in 1869, the white men sat on chairs, with shoes on. This was, however, as The Times of India recalled later, 'met with very considerable opposition". Indeed, according to one account, the British went to the extent of keeping troops ready to 'sack Hyderabad" should there be trouble due to the shoe-and-chair controversy. Interestingly, The Times of India writer ended with a lament that while in Hyderabad things were settled as 'the Europeans desired it", the British in Burma still had to 'leave (their) shoes outside the palace". In 1875, refusal to continue this led to a serious impasse with the Burmese king. Ultimately, though, it was not a question simply of shoes and chairs but the political messages encoded here. Having a British official sit on the right side of the throne, often at the same level, advertised 'native" vassalage and the white man's imperial might. Refusal of British officials to appear barefoot, even though their predecessors once complied, signalled how power equations had tilted in their favour. Ironically, the British were reluctant to let Indians enter their spaces with shoes; that is, the white man defied local tradition, but the brown man was expected to maintain local displays of deference. When once a 'Bengali of rank" is said to have appeared before the notorious Lord Dalhousie with slippers on, he received such a glare that the 'Oriental (sic) gradually sunk down and down until his flowing garments touched the ground, and his feet were completely concealed from sight." Reportedly, Dalhousie kept him 'in this painful position" for a while before moving on. Yet as Indians grew anglicised in dress and etiquette, the British had to modify their stance, not least because leading 'natives" began to boycott imperial events, as in 1857 in Calcutta. Some groups like the Parsis argued, besides, that unlike Hindus, they kept slippers on everywhere; to ask them to display feet was unreasonable. Sir John Lawrence, viceroy in the second half of the 1860s, ultimately decided that if brown visitors to government offices and courts 'conformed to English notions" by wearing 'patent leather shoes", they could be excused from having to remove their footwear. The decision, one commentator wrote, 'caused much grumbling" but 'prevented unpleasant altercations"; why, one group of people even benefited from Lawrence's command—'manufacturers of patent leather". In the end, though, it would take till the close of the 19th century for the issue to fizzle out: this grand, decades-long political headache called the 'Great Shoe Question" of India. Manu S. Pillai is a historian and author, most recently, of Gods, Guns and Missionaries.
The Herald Scotland
11-07-2025
- General
- The Herald Scotland
Turner Prize winner and expert on MacKintosh receive GSA doctorates
Kaur is being celebrated for her innovative and interdisciplinary work exploring cultural memory, diasporic identity and colonial histories. Born in Glasgow's Pollokshields, her work is rooted in her Sikh upbringing and spans sculpture, installation, sound and video. She said: 'It was unexpected, but a total honour to be awarded the Honorary Doctorate this year, especially as Glasgow and The Glasgow School of Art are such significant places to me. 'They are both places that have shaped me, and I think often of how fortunate I am to have had access to free education, which was totally life-changing.' Read More Professor Penny Macbeth, Director and Principal of The Glasgow School of Art, added: 'Today marks a key moment for our graduates as they move forward into the next stage of their creative careers, equipped with skills they have learned during their time here at The Glasgow School of Art and applying them in new roles across the creative sector. 'This year's honorary doctorates are exemplars of the impact and legacy that our global creative network of graduates can make, demonstrating the value of creative education and the importance that creative people can make in setting the pace, in asking challenging questions, and in offering positive solutions. 'We are proud to award the honorary degree of Doctor of Letters in recognition of the outstanding success they have each achieved in their respective fields, expanding their research and creative practices to international significance and acclaim. Jasleen Kaur is the seventh GSA graduate to win the prestigious Turner Prize. 'Her interdisciplinary practice explores how we define ourselves and preserve and challenge our traditions. Architect and teacher Hiroaki Kimura has made a significant global contribution to research and knowledge related to Mackintosh, through a long and remarkable relationship with the institution that has spanned over 40 years.' Professor Stephen Bottomley, Head of the GSA's School of Design, continued: 'Jasleen Kaur was the winner of the 2024 Turner Prize and a graduate from the GSA's world-class BA (Hons) Silversmithing and Jewellery programme, one of the original subjects taught at The Glasgow School of Art's first incarnation as Glasgow Government School of Design, founded in 1845. 'Our graduates run businesses, work in industry, and lead or teach on the UK's leading design programmes. This year, it is especially fitting that we celebrate the practice and standing of one of the world's most respected artists and inspirational teachers in art and design.' Kimura's award comes for his promotion of Rennie Mackintosh, and that began when he studied in Glasgow and he's now spent four decades sharing his legacy with the rest of the world and in his home country of Japan. Professor Sally Stewart, Head of the Mackintosh School of Architecture, said: 'While practising and teaching over the last forty years, first in Kobe and subsequently at the Kyoto Institute of Technology, Hiroaki has never ceased to be interested in the studies he began as a student here at The Glasgow School of Art, or the opportunities that those studies opened to him. 'He has fostered and consolidated connections between artists, architects and patrons, between our institutions, professional bodies, and creative communities. Over regular visits to the School, he has recorded the changes to The Glasgow School of Art – occupied and in use, at work and at play, injured, renovated and once again damaged. 'The art school building has become a close friend. His documentation of this remains unparalleled, as does his knowledge of both the mystery and achievements of Mackintosh—an architect from another time but with continuing relevance.'
