In the moments leading up to Stevens’ performance, the Brighton Dome was brimming. Fans had been lining up for several hours to get as close as possible to this headlining act, which was to be the ultimate finale of The Great Escape. They waited patiently, but eagerly, until the lights dimmed; and as the anticipation grew, the stage burst into an array of lights, revealing the man himself in a costume of cyber-neon, with a grand entourage of piano, drums, horns and dancers.

They lapped up the applause for just a moment, before exploding into song without warning, in an experimental style exemplary of Stevens’ recent work.

As elsewhere in the night, the performance was breathtaking, cathartic, as it built continually to an assembled crescendo of noise which released itself into the bliss of quietude, carried by Stevens’ delicate voice. The concert was a spectacle, almost a gesamtkunstwerk, as it was animated by the performers themselves, their garish costumes, the light show and a cinematic visualiser, eventually climaxing in a shower of glitter and balloons; the flamboyancy of the scene captured that of the music.

Many will nonetheless be ambivalent towards Stevens’ new style, which marks a substantial distance from his folky origins. In particular, his use of auto-tuning sounds dated and inappropriate, occasionally cheapening his work. His venture into electronica is ambitious, certainly, but it is far from an unwavering success, and for such an outwardly spiritual artist it can seem a compromise to his overall concept.

The performance wasn’t exclusively comprised of new material, however, as Stevens intermittently treated to the crowd to simple acoustic numbers, in order – he said – to ‘lighten things up a bit’. Certainly, they stood in substantial contrast to the bulk of his songs, altogether providing a marked eclecticism. Stevens nonetheless seemed to distance himself from this older style, almost treating it as a sort of comic relief. In one of his many addresses to the audience, he commented that his music and life had thus far been ‘cluttered’ with language, hence his move towards more beat-driven songs that ‘transcend vocabulary’.

These asides were actually one of the most remarkable features of the concert, as Stevens gave a substantial insight into the influences behind his work: he gave anecdotes from childhood, and spoke at length about the outsider art of schizophrenic Royal Robertson, who features prominently in his most recent album The Age of Adz. Frequently, he spoke philosophically about matters such as the cosmos and love, but it was difficult to tell when he was being facetious and when he was falling absently into pretense, and there was therefore an occasional air of bemusement.

In any case, Stevens provided an unforgettable performance that nobody in that arena could possibly forget. His new direction may be controversial, but his innovation is undeniable, and here we have one of the more intriguing artists of our generation.

By Joshua Feldman

The show was A Father and a daughter – to make a reference joke. Supported, as he has done for the past 5 years, by his daughter Lucy Wainwright-Roche, Wainwright senior brought cynicism and humor to the Southbank Center. His daughter echoed this. Her fragile vocals compounded with lyrics of a first date, which ended in a collapsed lung; placing one in between calmness and hysterics.

Like her father, Wainwright-Roche has the gift of charm. Her anecdotes, like her music, are tangled with melancholy. Before a duet with her mother, Suzzy Roache, she said that ‘I know you haven’t come to see me, but thank you’. A rather touching moment.

That last night was – or not as the case may be – our penultimate night of existence, it proved a running joke. Unbelting his cynicism, Wainwright fittingly sang that the world is a terrible place, and so the end could not come too soon.

His performance continued in this light. It is cathartic. His lyrics simply lop out all the bile and buggery that life has to offer. And while he may waggle his tongue as he proclaims his profanities, it is the honesty of these profanities, and sadness behind the humor, for which he is great. He is more than taboo. While songs such as My Meds and The Acid Song were met with gafoors all round, Wainwright maneuvered us with sincerity through the break up of marriage with Your Mother I.

Eventually informality dictated the performance. It was tribute to Wainwright ‘s 21 studio albums that, what was earlier described by his daughter as ‘awfully quiet and polite’, became shout out of requests. Mingled between came stand ins from his daughter and Suzzy Roache. As all three ended the show, following two encores, the notion of the Von Trapt family could not but pop up.

By Patrick Wheaton

The news of the 2011 Student Academy Awards has be one that has made us all at TNC jump up in union to celebrate the huge achievement by such a diverse and talented group of students filmmakers. Their passion, skill, and ability leaves us speechless the more we see and hear from them.

Chris Jarvis, nominated in the animation category for “The Birds Upstairs,” New York University. Already a multiple award winning film this is the first Oscar nomination and one that is certainly going to be joined by others. There is something incredibly wonderful about his work that flicks a nod here and there to the modern French master Sylvain Chomet yet remains beautiful and original in it’s own right.

A stunning achievement yet again by a truly amazing student filmmaker. To watch the trailer and for more information on Chris work you can go to his website HERE.

How did you get into filmmaking has this always been a passion?

Well, having attended an accelerated high school for math and science, that was my primary focus throughout most of my early life. It was not until my senior year of high school, when I was exposed to the films of Andrei Tarkovsky, that I imagined pursuing a career as a filmmaker.

What was the first film/director that inspired you?

Well Since I already mentioned Tarkovsky, I would have to say Von Trier or Solondz – both of whom have crafted films that continue to influence me as a person and shape my contentions about film form.

Tell us about your film, what is your approach, how do you come up with your projects?

‘The Birds Upstairs’ was my first animated film, and was largely an experiment in the form, having never taken a class or attempted on before it- I am much more accustom to live action. Since it was necessary the characters move with an arthritic stoicism, I thought this would help hide my lack of craft, and I feel it did. Honestly, the idea emerged being exposed the somewhat indulgent and high class social life of adults around me as a child.

Very early on I developed a scathing dislike of artificial, bourgeoisie mentalities, and the premise of a couple who indulge this lifestyle in order to conceal something horrific about themselves they cannot face, which is of course the fact they’re dead, intrigued me.

Your film nominated for a Student Academy Award, a truly magnificent achievement, have you had time to let this settle in?

Not really! It still seems rather surreal.

What was did it feel like when you got the news?

It feels wonderful – I’m very grateful the film will reach a wider audience because of the nomination. In my experience with any exclusionary judging of art, I have recognised that unlike some sports or most competitive endeavours, this process is capricious and unpredictable. I am glad to be on the benefiting side, and remain humble to all the great works of art that may have not gotten recognised this year by the academy.

What have been the challengers you have faced, what help/advice have you sought?

Getting funding is always difficult, and of course the struggle with yourself to get the work you want to get done made. But if a conceit is important enough to you, you always find a way.

Things are going so well for you, you feeling the pressure?

I am, but I try to focus on my work and take it one film at a time.

What do you want people to take away from your film?

The idea of being in denial enough to a point where you are unable to recognise yourself is really what unites the film for me. The reason birds were chosen for the film, as opposed to human beings or some other animal, is because of their relationship with their own reflection. I remember as a child hearing the sound of a bird hitting a window and dropping dead to the ground. It was so quizzical to me – that it was the last thing it saw, as if it could not bear to face itself.

That for me is the tragedy of the Birds Upstairs, that this couple, in denial of the fact that they’re dead, (whether interpreted literally or metaphoric of them being conceited or shallow) cannot recognise their own son until they have killed it.

What has been your biggest sacrifice or difficulties that you have encountered?

Undoubtedly, finding the time and diligence to write and becoming vulnerable during that short window of time.

What advice would you give other filmmakers?

“Every story is a love story” – Todd Solondz

Finally, what are you working on now?

I am working on a live action short with Danish actress Stine Fischer Christensen I’ve been preparing for almost three years.

Cannes: The start of the 2011 Cannes Film Festival/ Festival de Cannes gets underway tonight with a gala screening of the new Woody Allen film “Midnight in Paris” which is being shown out of competition. If the buzz in the queue for tickets is anything to go by this is set to be a return to form by the American director, one French woman in on her way to another event said it was a ‘love letter to Paris”.