Shropshire-based artist Sabine’s new single ‘Standing There’ is a complimentary follow-up to her latest EP ‘Heart of Mine’. It continues the theme of hope in the midst of heartbreak, and is told using the same style of instrumentation as found on her most recent record.
Opening with a powerful guitar chord that reverberates with an Oasis-like twang, the song then evolves into an atmospheric sound that drifts through the ether with floating piano and a whimsical vocal. A slight drumbeat enters to indicate the change from verse to chorus, and vice versa, with the chorus itself being a simple statement of profound longing as she declares to her lover that ‘I’m standing there/ willing for you to forgive me’.
Sabine has co-written this song with Northamptonshire-based singer Adam Hogg, but her delivery feels no less personal than her previous work. Her vocals are as reflective as ever, gently searching through the chorus with an amplified sound that hints at comparisons with Dido. This is certainly the case with the song’s bridge, its electronica elements really helping to push Sabine’s voice out into an ethereal state of soft tones and sweeping motions. It packs a soft punch which brings the song to a hopeful, climactic end. ‘Standing There’ is a strong addition to Sabine’s growing catalogue of emotionally-charged tunes. She is certainly growing into an accomplished singer-songwriter.
You can stream ‘Standing There‘ on Spotify by clicking here.
Originally written for Belles & Gals on October 16th 2020.
Who would have thought that six months ago travelling to a Ward Thomas concert would take a matter of seconds. Even if their Unfiltered tour had gone ahead back in April/May, no one would have believed it possible to be able to attend without leaving your own home. Yet in the age of social distancing and through the wonders of technology, I was able to make a brew in my own kitchen and then take it to my front row seat at the Theatre Royal Haymarket without even stepping outside the door of my North Wales home. Now that is revolutionary.
Of course, the ability to watch livestreamed performances has been around for a number of years now. Schemes like National Theatre Live and programmes like Live at the Apollo are well-established, while recordings of live concert gigs have been around for years. But the ability to experiment with these art-forms when the live audience is absent does not seem to have been undertaken in any significant way yet. Laura Marling is perhaps the best known musician to have done so, with her Union Chapel shows back in June. In this way, accessing Ward Thomas’ livestream concert, to coincide with the release of their new album Invitation, felt new and exciting. Watching it, I couldn’t help but admire their vision and ingenuity.
After a pre-recorded set from Devon Dawson all the way from Nashville, in which the rising country star performed three songs from what looked like a backstreet Opry, accompanied by Miss Piggy on piano and Yogi Bear on bass, Ward Thomas appeared onscreen in front of the theatre entrance. They walked through its doors and, via a faded shot, into the auditorium, where their three-piece band struck up the soft sound of ‘Sweet Time’. The lightness of the ukulele playing, alongside the deftness of touch on guitar and keyboard, blended with the angelic harmonies of Catherine and Lizzy to define the whole atmosphere of the evening. Even with the pop-inflected notes on ‘Don’t Be a Stranger’ and the light injection of funk in ‘Open Your Mind’ that followed, there was still an intimate feel to their performance which belied the cavernous belly of the auditorium.
It took some getting used to, but their venture into the Royal Box early on for a trio of songs, with Lizzy on keyboard and Catherine perched on the balcony with her guitar, was an inspired one. With the cameras angled voyeuristically to peer into this confined space, complete with lamp and oak cabinet, it felt like looking into their living room and being given privileged access to a jamming session. The resultant songs, including ‘Cartwheels’ and ‘Hold Space’, were clearly too well-rehearsed to have been off-the-cuff of course, but it was a nice touch that helped establish a more comfortable relationship between them and the distant viewers.
Their use of space got more bold and imaginative as the set went on. From the constraints of the royal box, the camera spiralled up into the gallery to find them singing opposite one another with their keyboard player in between. ‘Where the Sky is’ was an apt choice for their place up in the gods, with their harmonic voices helping to maintain a close bond with the audience despite the empty seats threatening to engulf them in this larger space. ‘One More Goodbye’ found them slightly losing this connection as they concentrated their performance out to the front of the room rather than looking down the lens of the cameras that perched either side of them. Their choreographed transition back down to the stage was also disjointed enough for me to consider whether they had perhaps been too ambitious in their desire to utilise the many parts of the building. It helped that they returned to the stage for ‘Guilty Flowers’ and ‘I Believe in You’ therefore, in order to restore them and us to a more familiar experience before the interval.
And it was not just any interval. This was a bar-based chat with Radio 1’s Shiona McCallum. It was slightly awkward and obviously staged but it was a nice touch that added to the general sense of intrigue and surprise of the evening. Part-National Theatre Live, with its pre-performance interviews and interval extras, part-Saturday Night Takeaway, with its backstage insight and eavesdropping feel, this segment really showcased the potential of the livestream experience and the possibilities of this infant art-form.
The second-half was much more in keeping with a standard show as Ward Thomas remained on the main stage throughout. They rattled through a host of songs, including ‘No Filter’, ‘Someday’ and ‘Wait Up’, with the same gusto as they would in front of a packed house. After each song, the lights would dim and then lift again a few moments later. There was nothing ground-breaking or indeed cinematic about this part of the set, which was a shame, given the creativity of the first-half. However, there was certainly nothing disappointing about the listening experience. In fact, their version of Jimi Hendrix’ ‘Purple Rain’ was superb. The stripped-back nature of their set allowed the lyrics to shine through as I have never heard them before. It was the same with Ward Thomas’ own ‘Push for the Stride’, where the instrumentation is usually more memorable than the words. ‘Carry You Home’ brought the music back into focus for an accomplished finale before Catherine and Lizzy sat at the edge of the stage to round off the broadcast with the acapella song ‘Dear Me’. It was the perfect ending, reflecting the sweet sound of the show’s opening to bring the whole thing full circle.
Ward Thomas’ livestream concert may have been a little frayed around the edges but its vision was bold and imaginative and was, in the main, wholly realised. They did not keep it simple, but instead took a risk and aimed high, choosing a venue whose size could have quite easily overwhelmed them. Instead, they made use of its space, showing creativity and innovation that, though dissipating as the show went on, nevertheless saw them occupying its nooks and crannies in an attempt not only to entertain their virtual audience aurally but visually too. It may not have always paid off but, considering the new environment and need to experiment with this new form of musical experience, they may have just created a blueprint for other artists to follow. The applause may have been non-existent inside the Theatre Royal. But Ward Thomas can rest assured that it was echoing in the homes of their fans who tuned in to witness this unique event.
Originally written for Belles & Gals on October 13th 2020.
Since March, theatres and community arts venues throughout the UK have faced an unprecedented challenge. Forced to close and cancel their shows for the foreseeable, many have lost all and any source of income. Government grants and interventions have helped to stem the negative flow of finances in the short term. But the longer restrictions remain in place, the more precarious the situation becomes for some of our best-loved and locally-valued arts spaces. In fact, some have already been lost in the midst of this pandemic.
My own local theatre has not been immune to this. Yet neither has it stood still during this crisis. It has become a community hub of sorts, as this article from The Guardianexplains. It has sought creative solutions to the problems it has faced. Perhaps most importantly, it has embraced the notion that arts and culture are much more than just escapism and entertainment. They contribute to the health and well-being of the nation, as Liam Evans-Ford explains in this article for The Stage.
I received a lovely, handwritten card from Evans-Ford and Tamara Harvey, Executive and Artistic Directors respectively at Theatr Clwyd, the other day. I had contributed something to their Helping Hand Appeal, a bursary scheme designed to assist freelancers in the creative industry. It was a short and simple note thanking me for my donation. One does not expect to receive such a response, let alone a personalised one. It was a touching surprise; a small act of kindness that has spurred me on to publish a poem I first drafted back in April. Since then, it has undergone a few changes as the situation has changed and evolved. I’ve not had the confidence to share it either, until now.
I hope that this poem conveys something of how important our arts venues are; and captures something of their wonderful potential and need for support.
To find out more about the work of Theatr Clwyd, and how to donate, click here.
With coronavirus restrictions taking hold of the live music scene for the foreseeable future, it appears we may have to get used to the online livestream. The hustle and bustle of people may be absent but the presence of high-quality sound, lighting and camerawork can help recreate the kind of intimate atmosphere synonymous with the acoustic storytelling of the country, folk and Americana scenes.
This was certainly the case with Wildwood Kin’s ‘Homegrown Sessions’, the first of what promises to be a series of stripped back, live shows from the rustic setting of Higher Eggbeer Farm in Dartmoor, Devon. The alt-folk trio faded onto the screen at 7pm sharp to deliver the first of many beautiful moments under the sanctity of candlelight. Surrounded by pot plants and sat, socially distanced, on three wooden benches, they appeared comfortable and calm as they ambled gently through opening song ‘Wake Up Sleeper’ before continuing the precious harmonies with ‘Circumstance’ and ‘The Crown’.
What I find so captivating about their sound is that it can fill a room yet strike the heart of the individual with the same gentle ferocity. This was exemplified in the songs ‘Steady My Heart’ and ‘Dakota’, the former piercing through the screen with its urgent keyboard and thumping kick-drum, whilst the latter, a Stereophonics cover, reached out its hand and with a warm touch eased my mind of the week’s stresses and strains.
Indeed, their set was marked with a kind of Sunday evening restfulness, ‘Headed for the Water’ inviting us to refresh and recover before the start of another working week. Its focus on the need to stop and breathe is one that has been particularly pertinent during lockdown, when many have found time to reconnect with themselves and their passions. Wildwood Kin were mindful of those who didn’t however, ‘Beauty in Your Brokenness’ feeling like a tribute to those hardworking souls whose efforts, for our sakes, showed the best of humanity in spite of ourselves.
There is such a healing quality to Wildwood Kin’s music, speaking truth and hope with the softest of voices. ‘Never Alone’ was particularly striking in its calm delivery, as was ‘Signals’. Meanwhile, ‘All on Me’ offered encouragement encased in a slightly louder but no less affecting sound. And ‘Taking a Hold’, usually increasingly dramatic as the song goes on, found a greater emphasis placed on the lyrics here as this acoustic set largely reversed the sonic atmosphere often created by the trio to focus on the words and their heartfelt expression. It made ‘The Valley’, one of their most lyrically-excellent songs, all-the-more fitting as the final number, providing the sweetest of endings to this most beautiful of online performances.
Wildwood Kin clearly put a lot of thought and effort into this livestream concert. All credit must go to Jonny Finnows whose operation of the cameras and placement of the lighting made such a difference to the overall experience. Without his creative hand over it, one wonders whether it would have been as affective and immersive. Of course, the harmonic vocals of Wildwood Kin never fail to capture the ear of those listening. But this was also a pleasurable viewing experience that I look forward to engaging in again. And with a Christmas edition potentially on the cards, there won’t be long to wait for another of these ‘Homegrown Sessions’.
I am doing Molly and The Moon a disservice by listening to their latest EP in the dark of the evening. I have just come in from a walk under the fading moon whose face is blotched with grey gauze clouds. It is a far cry from the bright light emanating from my laptop moments later as I finish downloading In the Morningand press play.
Opening song ‘Rise’ is made for the sun-soaked days of summer rather than the receding ones of late September. Its bright and bubbly sound is filled with hope and cheeriness. Meanwhile, ‘In the Morning’ is laid back and contemplative – a traditional folk sound that ruminates under the pale light of early dawn. ‘Cold is the Night’ is much more in keeping with the current clime, whose emotions reflect the sadness in the wind and tears in the rain. The full band sound gives an extra heart-wrenching pull when compared to the acoustic version; and the final delivery of the chorus proves more affective and laden with hope than the rather despondent end to the original.
‘Same God, New Face’ gives definition to the theme of the natural world that runs throughout this EP. It grants nature a divine image which, depending on your beliefs, could either reflect the Creator or reveal nature itself to be Sacred. Whatever the interpretation, there is truth to be found in the skies and prayer to be seen in the eyes of another, Molly-Anne declares. Such prayer often represents our deepest longing, to be free to follow our hearts, as final song ‘Compass’ suggests. It is another take on the encouragement of Kacey Musgraves to ‘follow your arrow wherever it points’. As the darkness of an impending winter approaches, in which the presence of coronavirus hangs like an overarching black cloud over the world, we could do worse than heed such words and continue dreaming towards our greatest desires.
‘We can’t stop the sun from falling’, Molly and The Moon admit, but ‘love will lift you back into daylight’. There is hope of a new dawn yet.
You can stream ‘In the Morning’ on Spotify here, or purchase the EP via Molly & The Moon‘s website here.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel. Or so it seems. The arts sector is not out of the woods yet by any means. But there is a glimmer of hope. Like the neon bulbs dangling across the stage at my first live gig since March, there are rays of optimism breaking through the darkness. As the sun set on the magnificent red brick building towering over us, aglow with rainbow-coloured light, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of joy and relief that I am back. That I have been able to come back. That my theatre, unlike others, still stands.
It never stopped, of course. It innovated; collaborated; diverted its resources; sought creative solutions. And now, it is slowly returning to a sense of the old normal. Not indoors, mind, but out. On a grassy field marked with white boxes and filled with makeshift chairs of all shapes and sizes. A tapestry of camping and outdoor furniture laid out before a plain black stage, simply lit and acoustically sound. Onto it step three lads with three instruments ready to entertain the throngs that have ventured out on this Friday evening. And entertain us they most certainly do, with a barnstorming hour of country, blues, and alternative folk.
Their blistering set was much needed to get the toes tapping; to counter the cold wind blowing across the site. The audience applauded in enthusiastic appreciation throughout, determined to enjoy an hour of music after the dearth of live performance over the past few months. The Goat Roper Rodeo Band certainly offered plenty of enjoyment and more besides, an eclectic sound keeping things fresh and lively, with no let-up in their high-octane delivery. Even in the slow, ballad-like songs such as Toss and Turnand Old Joanna, there was intensity in their presentation, perhaps caused by the welcome release that this post-lockdown opportunity presented for them. Whatever the case, it only added to the brilliance of the evening. With a carefully-crafted back-catalogue of wonderfully-catchy songs – reminiscent of Mumford & Sons one minute, sounding like a 1950s WSM Radio broadcast the next – The Goat Roper Rodeo Band certainly left their mark on proceedings in an hour that went by way too fast.
It was a very different experience of Theatr Clwyd to the one that I am used to. But it is moments like these that weave themselves into our memories. They are the unexpected surprises that make our relationship to a place so rich with meaning. They crystallise into a particular instance on our timeline that helps us tell the story of our lives to those that come after, when we recall how this theatre and its work has impacted us down the years. It may appear to the one looking in and gazing upon the photographs that this was just another outdoor gig. But to those who were there, or to me at least, this show marked the occasion when the arts began to breathe again, as the tightly-bound corset of Covid-19 restrictions was loosened enough to allow for such a socially-distanced gathering to take place.
There will be many bumps in the road to come. We are not out of the woods yet. But beyond the many trees still to wind past to get to the edge of what can seem an overwhelmingly-bleak scene, there is a light that shines. It will not be the same one we left behind. And neither should it be. Lockdown has been an opportunity to view and do things differently. Live performance as we knew it will return I’m sure. But the arts sector must also move forward. Change must be embraced.
Click here to find out more about The Goat Roper Rodeo Band.
Click here to find out what’s coming up at Theatr Clwyd.
Originally written for Get the Chance on 20th September 2020.
When I composed my ‘Top 5 Welsh Country Music Artists’ for a recent article, I made a glaring omission. How could I forget Laura Evans? Yet such has been the success of the Aberdare-born singer-songwriter, one can easily forget that her roots lie on this side of the pond. Her music has been featured on several US TV shows. She has performed at the famous Bluebird Café in Nashville. In fact, her time spent in Music City, writing and producing songs, means that she could easily pass for an American citizen.
On saying that, her voice retains a certain Welsh flavour that is evidenced on her latest EP Running Back to You. Her sultry tones are reminiscent of fellow Welsh warbler Duffy. Indeed, the strong soul vibe on the title track cannot help but evoke such a comparison. It is also shot through with blues, and contains some delicious guitar licks in the middle that make for a tasty listen. Its catchy groove sits nicely alongside the music of namesake Laura Oakes – though it is much more layered than Oakes’ straight-laced pop sound.
Laura Evans is no one-trick pony. This EP is defined by eclecticism that ranges from the heavy rock of ‘Drag Me Back In’ to the traditional country-sounding ‘Take Me Back Home’. The latter confirms her Welsh roots with a call to home that is beautifully written and played with gorgeous simplicity. Its sound is embedded in Nashville-inspired song which could belie the distinctly Welsh imagery within the lyrics. It fails to do so however, the two marrying well to create a lovely, heartfelt lovesong to Aberdare. Following on, as it does, from the heart-wrenching ballad ‘Mess of Me’, about the lasting damage that can be caused by a broken relationship, the track takes on further resonance that was perhaps unintended. Here, ‘Take Me Back Home’ takes on a Prodigal Son vibe in light of the despair contained in ‘Mess of Me’. It suggests the healing power of home which, given Wales’ Celtic spirituality and natural beauty, has the potential for truth.
Whatever the potential significance of the song choices and their running order, Running Back to You displays the type of music that showcases why Laura Evans is so highly thought on both sides of the Atlantic. She is a genre-crossing artist whose songs all have the potential for broad appeal. I think it will be only a matter of time before she is given much wider recognition on national radio here. It will be the least she deserves.
When Philippa Hanna released her latest album Stained Glass Stories, it was with nervous anticipation that I pressed play. The sometime-Country singer-songwriter has journeyed into the world of Contemporary Christian Music (CCM) to make a worship album for the first time. Such a move doesn’t feel forced or contrite given her past projects, emerging as they do out of a heart that wishes to encourage and empower rather than please people. But I still felt anxious that the unique spark that makes her music so inspirational would be lost in favour of the subculture’s standardised tropes and stereotypical sounds. In the end, the record fell somewhere in between.
From the first few notes on opening track ‘Freedom Found Me’, I was immediately uplifted. Its rousing Gospel chorus confirmed that the early signs were good. The lyrics offered hope and reassurance alongside a positive sound that felt, well, very Philippa. Even when ‘The Name That Saves’ followed, with a very Hillsong-like framework, there still seemed to be a sprinkling of Hanna magic over it to avoid it descending into cliché. Perhaps it is her wonderful way with lyrics, which ‘My Hope is in the Blood’ displays most successfully here, which prevents Stained Glass Stories from becoming just another worship album. The chorus excels on this third track, not only because of its lyrical mastery but in part because of the slight musical variations that come with each repetition. It keeps the message fresh and emboldens the words with a presence that they fully deserve.
‘Oh The Power’ and ‘You’re Still God’ then cause the album to wane into familiar worship song territory; though the simple statement of the latter holds such weight that, to speak it as truth over my own personal context, it became deeply comforting and emotionally powerful. Yet just as it feels like the album is slipping into safe and average, ‘Everything is Possible’ brings a delightful injection of country-folk with a hint of bluegrass that surprises you with its exciting melody and toe-tapping rhythm. ‘Against All Odds’ continues this sense of originality by displaying the kind of pop and storytelling that mark it as a close cousin of Philippa Hanna’s previous two albums. ‘Loved Me First’ then rounds off this standout section of the record with a beautiful demonstration of country-pop that evokes the spirits of Ingrid Andress and Kelsea Ballerini. The line ‘why do I find myself trying to earn it’ was particularly pertinent for me, a humble reminder of Jesus’ work on the cross.
‘Now to Jesus’ could have been ripped straight from the Hillsong/Bethel manual on how to write a worship song. It creates the kind of tangible spiritual atmosphere that Charismatic Christians will be all-too-familiar with, Hanna transposing the vocals of Darlene Zschech into a performance that, for me, lacks creative spark. I accept my tendency to over-criticise this popular style of worship music, and so perhaps I am being too harsh here. Thankfully, it is the only song on Stained Glass Stories that has little essence of Hanna herself. ‘Trust’ is much more recognisably marked by her musical character, an acoustic effort that again reveals a real aptitude for songwriting. Meanwhile, ‘My Troubled Soul’, originally sung by Robert Critchley, is a heartfelt cover that makes for a nice finish to an album that largely meets my expectations.
Stained Glass Stories succeeds in retaining much of what makes Philippa Hanna such an inspiring and rather unique Christian artist. There are times on this record when she appears to veer into the customary sounds of CCM. But for the most part, she carves her own personality into songs that house a desire to worship Jesus through expressive songwriting, wonderfully-crafted lyrics and, at times, refreshingly different sounds. My quibble with the populist style of mainstream Christian worship music notwithstanding, Stained Glass Stories is an excellent album that marks another exciting chapter in the repertoire of Philippa Hanna.
Stained Glass Stories comes out on 31st July 2020. To purchase it, click here.
It is hard to categorise Bryony Sier. The Welsh singer-songwriter has a rather eclectic sound. There are bits of blues, flecks of folk, glimpses of gospel. She is cut through with country, with a slice of soul, lightly packaged in pop. Her new EP Personal Monster displays an exciting mix of all of these various sounds, sown together to create a mottled tapestry from a thematic thread of personal identity. Despite the deeply personal nature of this record however, its musings on mental health in particular speak to a universal experience which make it highly relatable.
The title track is one on which the disruptive and destructive nature of anxiety is expertly exposed by Sier. It makes for a rather sharp sword that penetrated right through to my own heart, all-too-familiar, as it is, with those tall tales telling me ‘I’m not worthy’ and ‘if I jump it will be my biggest mistake’. The song’s infectious rhythm belies its lyrical darkness, the sort of paradox that seems to mark much of Bryony’s music. Merry Go Round, for instance, exudes a form of pessimism that actually feels remarkably reassuring. Its tune is shot through with a melancholic hope that put me a wonderfully pensive mood. Meanwhile, Hurricane combines the whimsical movement of a Celtic folk song with the darkened sky of a gritty Johnny Cash number. The musical arrangement goes off on some unusual and unexpected tangents, producing a mystical quality that ends the EP on a rather intriguing note. I went back to listen to it again straight away, such was my fascination with Sier’s honest exploration of her own inner world as well as the astute observations of those around her.
Personal Monster represents a broad horizon of musical sounds upon which Bryony Sier feels free to explore. She borrows from here and there, constructing a multi-coloured road of sound along which she travels into the dark recesses of her anxious mind. It is a record that makes one feel less alone, and provides reassurance that the monster within us is perhaps not as personal as we might think.
Click here to listen to Personal Monster on Spotify.
The old adage that the two most difficult genres to write are comedy and horror seemed to have bypassed the ears of some of Wales’ top producers. The likes of Ed Thomas (Hinterland) and Euros Lyn (Doctor Who) decided to devilishly choose the latter for a short film challenge put on by S4C’s Hansh (of which they were judges). To raise the stakes even further, the films were required to be made within 48 hours, which under lockdown conditions, seems like a pretty tall order. But I guess that’s where creativity can either flourish or flounder, producing a fight-or-flight response which, for those of the former persuasion, led to some pretty professional-looking and eye-catching pieces.
The variety of films that were sent in made it difficult for the judges to compare them. But they managed, in the end, to narrow it down to a shortlist, before announcing a couple that were deserving of special merit; that came very close to the standards of the overall winner. Of the three runners-up, Martha a’r fantelldduwas my personal favourite. It contained a lovely, light humour which, in typical horror fashion, slowly turns sour as strange things begin to occur in the life of the protagonist. Much like other entries Dilynwyrand Y Glesni, it uses the prevalence of digital technology to create a familiar experience which, like The Blair Witch Project and Unfriended, is then brilliantly skewed to generate unease, concern, and, finally, terror. But it is the performance of the actor who plays Mari (the film’s producer, Erin?) that makes Martha a’r fantell ddu stand out from the crowd. The effervescence she brings to the role perfectly encapsulates that of the enthusiastic YouTuber. Yet as things get weird, her increasing paranoia is displayed not only in her facial expressions but in the nuanced delivery of her dialogue. She succeeds in taking us on a journey through a narrative that is character-driven, leading us to be entertained, concerned and fearful for her, as we are drawn into her experience to really emotive effect.
The overall winner takes a somewhat more conventional line. There are no livestreams or Zoom calls here. 03YB is a clever, playful and absorbing film that takes familiar tropes from the horror genre and executes them incredibly well. There is enough originality and fresh impetus in the plotline though to test your expectations, as the creators use skilful editing to keep you guessing throughout. The ear piercing music is largely effective, grating only slightly at points, whilst the costume is utilised brilliantly. More specifically, the ears on the hood of the protagonist’s onesie become a fantastically devious signifier for blood at one point, representing the kind of deceitful intentions that the film’s creators look to insert at almost every turn. 03YB reminds me of the kind of visceral scenes at the start of many contemporary Welsh television dramas, posing just as much mystery as them too. It leaves you with enough questions to want to enquire further. It has the makings of a full-length episode, if not series. It is a well-deserved winner.
It appears that there is plenty of talent in Wales when it comes to the creation of original, suspenseful, and entertaining shorts. Thomas, Lyn, et al, clearly sussed that setting such a hard challenge would lead to some excellent entries. I wonder if it did leave them surprised however by the quality of the filmmaking. Given the lockdown restrictions, alongside the competition’s time constraint, I would say the films were of a remarkably professional standard. If they are representative of Wales’ young creative talent, then the current generation can rest assured that the future looks to be in very safe hands. I just hope that the opportunities come for these young filmmakers to grow and develop in their creative potential. Without investment in the arts at all levels, but particularly at the grassroots, going forward, the worry is that their chances will be severely curtailed.
You can watch all 42 films that were entered into the competition here.
desperatelylostcity.com 