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Latest blogs

Hussey's Riot: Secret Cinema's Fabien Riggall

Patrick Hussey meets Fabien Riggall from Future Shorts / Secret Cinema to talk rave culture, revolution and the ideal film

When you climb to the Future Shorts office, lodged at the very top of a ragged Soho stairwell, you are greeted by their red door and a curious sign.

‘This is the Future Shorts office. No prostitutes work here.’ It makes me wonder just what vetting process the staff go through and as a young woman opens the door I ask ‘Is that a joke?’ and point at the sign

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Eleanor Ivory Weber meets Rotozaza

Eleanor Ivory Weber meets Ant Hampton and Silvia Mercuriali from performance art company Rotozaza

Mind the gap. Because, according to Rotozaza, there is one. It’s the gap between the representational world and the real world, and this is what our lives are defined by.

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Agent Lynch, One Year On!

Wow it’s coming up to a year since I started performing and what a year it has been! I have been naughty about updating this blog. I end up writing long rambling emails to friends and not on here. Ooh hard to strike the balance between keeping it interesting and telling too much….

But here is what I can tell you. Everything has started to change since I was made redundant from my Ad Agency, which was a bit of a shock but actually a blessing in disguise. It just seems to have fast forwarded my decision to really go for Burlesque.

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Hussey's Riot: Forgive me Viv

In which Hussey plays a Gallic ponce then rows with national treasure Vivienne Westwood...

I get up and hit the shower, after all it's Saturday morning and I have a Manifesto to read! Yes a manifesto and about time too! Never a good one since the Commies!

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Ich bin ein Berliner: More Pricks Than Kicks

I thought a year was long time to stay in one place but Dorothy trumped me. “The last time I left Berlin was 10 years ago,” she said over her Sternburg, at 60 cents a bottle the impoverished drunkards beer of choice. She mentioned it as a fact, without pride or regret, like saying on which day the rubbish is collected or when you had your shoes fixed last - incidentally done free of charge at an orthopedic clinic in Neukölln, where they also pay you 40 Euros to undergo tests on your feet (mark it in your notebooks for desperate times).

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Hussey's Riot: House Party

The whiskeys lined the bar. There are moans at the back but our rotgut hors d'oeuvre is mandatory. All five of us slam.

It's the last round before ditching the pub, some relic adrift on the stub end of Mare Street. You know the kind. It has odd posters of Irish castles and a clapped out clientèle. The yellow-fingered husks look at us. How curious to have their peace disturbed by our chatter, by the buzzed choices we put on the Jukebox.

'Take my Breath Away! do do do-doo-do-do'

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