Yasmin Interview

Beautiful and talented, mighty things are expected of the DJ turned artist, singer and songwriter from Glasgow. Here she talks to me about honesty, hard-work and going it on your own.

 

We are in the midst of an explosion in young British music. What has made this generation of new UK music-makers, including yourself, so special?

It’s a DIY generation. We have new forces like the internet, everyone’s get a laptop and makes music. It means you get flooded, but people rise to the top through work ethic, through talent. We have a huge range of influences, listening to diverse radio stations. I think that’s why we’re going through such an exciting time.

What have been your biggest influences, from early on to recent collaborations?

I grew up listening to hip-hop and rap. I was just drawn to it because it was so honest. So raw and uncensored. They said anything. It wasn’t bubble-gum pop it was real. I’m always drawn to honesty - my favourite album of all time is ‘The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill.’ Today I’m inspired by a lot of my peers – people like Labrinth, like Ed Sheeran – these people worked so incredibly hard and they’re so talented and grateful and humble about everything. That’s really inspiring.

How would you describe your music?

Er….. what the fuck music. So when you hear it you can say what the fuck is that!?

Tell us about your DJing and how it has affected making music?

I started DJing at the age of 17. It’s extremely important in being an artist. I grew up listening to so much and I have so many references and inspirations – so much greater than if I’d have just been a music fan. You obviously have a grasp of what works in a club situation – you can judge styles and everything. It’s really helpful.

Throughout your career you have worked with a variety of artists and producers  – from Labyrinth, to Devlin, to Jamie XX. How important is collaboration in the creative process? 

Me personally I don’t produce so I’m always going to collaborate with people. It’s all about finding someone who works with you, somebody that sees your vision and has the confidence to add to it. I view making music like making babies – you wouldn’t just have a baby with anyone; there’s specific qualities in a person that you’d want. And that’s how I go about choosing people to collaborate with.

What was it like touring with such seminal artists as N.E.R.D and Eve?

I was DJing. It was really good. It was a great introduction to the life of touring. More recently I’ve supported Chase and Status and Eliza Doolittle as a singer. I love supporting artists that I’m a fan of especially. You learn a phenomenal amount. Touring with Eve was so great because she’s a female rapper and at the time I was a female DJ. To be a female in such a male dominated world she gave me a lot of confidence – she’s a very inspiring woman. With Chase and Status the live set is so incredible and mind-blowing – they’d watch my show and give me some pointers – that’s what it’s about – I’m still learning so much.

You’ve recently been in Ibiza. How is R’n’B and hip-hop changing, perhaps becoming more integrated into dance music?

Yeah, I can’t say I’m happy about it. There is a lot of this kind of hip-hop R’n’B David Guetta stuff. Personally it’s not my taste. I’m a huge fan of the 90s – using samples – it was such a craft. The hip-hop’s come back but I’m waiting for the R’n’B. I’m waiting patiently.

Debut single ‘On my own’ seems influenced by trip-hop pioneers massive attack, whereas new track ‘Light Up The World’ has a sped up garage sound. Do you enjoy experimenting with musical genres?

Yeah definitely. When I started making music I never thought I had to find one genre. I like being unidentifiable. I like mashing together but not in a contrived way just what feels like the right thing to do at the time. With the horns and strings ‘On My Own’ is very influenced by that trip-hop sound. With ‘Light up the World’ I kind said to Shy Fx just give me breakbeat and reggae. I thought it showed a different side of me – I like to go out and feel good. It was time to reflect that different side of me.

Tell us about your upcoming debut album.

It will be out maybe first quarter of next year. I’m working on it. Debut album – it’s such a big deal. Being close to your music it’s very hard to be like ‘yeah ok I’ve finished it.’ There’s a lot about independence. I’ve spent a lot of time on my own. I want to inspire other people to take risks, and be brave and adventurous – to go for what they really want. Sonically, there’s a lot of reggae and breakbeat. There is also a couple of acoustic moments – I just kind of let the songs do the talking. It’s honest. I’m excited about people hearing it. There are a couple of ex-boyfriends who might be pissed off when they hear it.

What gigs and tours have you got lined up?

I’m doing some headline gigs in November, there are also a couple of festivals left. I’ll be doing loads of shows – I love performing with my band. I’ll definitely be on the road.

http://www.yasminsworld.co.uk/

http://disordermagazine.com/

'Fit and Proper People' at Soho Theatre

New play, Fit and Proper People, fuses football and theatre with a spot of food on the side for good measure.

 

Located in London’s epicentre of vice, Soho Theatre is surrounded by the sultry glow of neon lights. It seems the perfect venue for Fit and Proper People, a new play by Georgia Fitch, which looks to expose the seedy underbelly of the beautiful game. Daring, relentlessly provocative and darkly familiar, the play is both satire and tribute. It succeeds resoundingly in capturing the atmosphere of the stands, not least by giving out free pies at the half time interval.

Fit and Proper People tells the story of football agent, Casey Layton (Katy Stephens), and her dealings with new millionaire owner Frank Wong (David Yip), as she uses his fortune to buy players and earn promotion to the Premiership. In a furious non-stop narrative of quick-fire exchanges, the cut-throat politics of the board room are laid bare as Casey attempts to oust manager and narcissistic womaniser Tony Whitechapel – played by Steven Hartley with a croaking East End malevolence.

Before writing the script, Georgia immersed herself in a club, travelling with fans, speaking to players, and on her own admission, getting hooked on the world of football and all that surrounds it. “I felt compelled to tell the truth about what is really happening to our national game; my cousin had been dating a Premiership play and England star and her stories gave me the final push.”

Under Steve Marmion’s direction, there was an ingenious use of space, dance routine and intense physical interaction. The characters navigate around a set design that includes a dugout, changing room, grass pitch, floodlights, big screens, four stands seating the audience and electric advertising billboards. “The direction and stage design are inspired,” Georgia said, “Steve knows everything you could ever need to know about football and theatre; it’s great to have his experience and extensive knowledge leading the production. And Tom’s design makes the audience complicit and immersed within the play.’

As the whistle blew for the interval, with the excited babble of the audience gobbling on free pies, it really could have been half time at a football match. This carefree atmosphere was soon demolished in the second half of the play, which brought to light the characters’ disturbing back stories that include sexual abuse, fraud, human rights violations and an ultimate exploitation of fans. It focused on the misogyny that remains at the core of footballing institution, articulated by Tommy the scout (Russell Floyd): “women can’t deliver on the pitch that’s why they are treated the way they are.”

Incredibly ambitious, the script encroaches topics such as football’s imperial legacy and anxiety over the rise of Eastern economic power – all presented in a fragmented collage of surreal canivalesque media images that come to replace reality. We are shown how football gives a phoney and transient meaning as well as a sense of belonging in a ruthless and dehumanising capitalist society. The play is a testament to the potency of both theatre and football. As Georgia surmises: “Both are life choices, both can provide the most defining moments of one’s life.”

Fit and Proper People runs at The Soho Theatre until the 5th of November.

Lia Saville Interview

Lia Saville is the bright young thing taking to the stage to illuminate the dark and brutal reality of the disaffected British youth – a subject dominating contemporary playwriting, as well as recent political and social debate.

Acting in bold and powerful productions including Dennis Kelly’s ‘Osama the Hero’ and Simon Stephens’ ‘Herons and Country Music’, Lia’s tireless energy is now focused on something even more hard-hitting, as she stars in Sean Holmes’ upcoming production of Edward Bond’s infamous play, ‘Saved.’ Originally produced at the Royal Court Theatre in 1965, it initially received heavy censorship, provoking Laurence Olivier himself to plead for audiences to show ‘the courage’ to watch it. In the face of such a controversial and volatile history, Lia talks to i-D online about a play which, all over again, promises to incite its mixed share of outrage and adoration.

How are rehearsals going? They’re going well this week, last week we were just getting the feel of the play – that was quite a stressful time because you’re realising a lot about your character. Mine is quite an emotional character so it’s a lot to take om. But this week I felt a lot better and more comfortable.

You’ve been in some of the greatest premieres of new playwriting in recent years. Do you think British playwriting is striving to reflect what’s going on with people on the street? Yeah I definitely do. All those plays were a while ago. When I did Herons it very much had the feeling of real life situations, often quite intense; the boy (the main character) gets raped. Behind all that hardship and emotion there is a sense of wanting to get out and get a better life for themselves. I do think though that, of course, these are dramatisations, specifically designed for an audience.

What’s it been like working on such an emotionally intense and demanding play as Saved? You would think that the play was intense and demanding and sad and shocking and everything but actually there’s some funny bits as you’re reading it. And the way Sean has cast it there is a comical side to it. And everyone thinks it’s all over-emotional but there are bits in it which are amusing and funny and light. Although of course the play is hard-hitting, there are some…nice parts to it as well.

Edward Bond has described the ending as ‘almost irresponsibly optimistic.’ Do you see it that way? I do. We’ve gone through every scene now and spoke about it. My character Pam especially goes through so much. You see so much of her life and she comes out the other side. Edward Bond couldn’t have finished a play any better; the final scene, with the total silence just movement – it just makes perfect sense. After everything there’s still hope. People still go on. It’s a fantastic play it really is – the more I read through it. You have to come see it.

Is it hard to remake such an infamous and influential play?We’ve only been rehearsing two weeks – there’s ideas flying about. It’s Sean’s vision – what he sees the play to be. People have to come see it to answer that question for themselves.

How is it working with Sean Holmes? He’s so lovely. Even in casting he puts you at ease. He’s an amazing director, he’s so talented and he loves the play, which makes it even easier for him to express what he wants from us. When we see his love and passion it’s hard not to feel it as well. I feed off it.

Do you think ‘Saved,’ which explores the cultural poverty and frustration of a generation of young people, has more meaning in the current climate of the London Riots and the Arab Spring? It’s a tough question. It’s just a great play. People may feel it has some relevance. But I think it has resonance whatever time it is put on. It’s such a strong play whenever.

Saved runs at the Lyric Hammersmith in October, pop here for more information and to scoop some tickets!

Tempest the Musical!... - 'The Tempest' at Royal Haymarket with Ralph Fiennes

From Ibsen to Maid in Manhatten, Shakespeare to Potter, Ralph Fiennes isn’t afraid to swap the prestige of the stage for silver screen success. Now the Dark Lord himself takes a turn as Prospero; iconic lead of The Tempest, currently running at London’s Royal Haymarket Theatre.

The original desert island story, The Tempest follows Prospero, usurped Duke of Milan, on his quest for revenge, employing the power of spirits to trick his enemies and regain the dukedom for his daughter. Trevor Nunn’s production focuses on drawing out Shakespeare’s subtle metanarrative, exploring how theatre works as illusion – an ambitious and original outlook that has divided critics.

Provoking several laughs, Fiennes’s star performance combines revelry with malice, power and emotion. He recites his lines with quavering force invoking a subtle blend of authority and vulnerability, again suggesting the production’s emphasis on exaggerated theatricality. The set reflects his state of mind; a vast and bare stage hazed in dreamy shadows and projected silhouettes. Fiennes plays an isolated figure in his lonely search for catharsis by way of a healthy dose of magic and fantasy.

Shakespeare’s final solo play-and arguably his finest-returns to a traditional neo-classical style which is emphasised in Nunn’s deliberate and careful direction. Combined with an almost slapstick physical comedy, exemplified in Nicholas Lyndhurst’s drunken West Country take on Trinculo, this meant an entertaining, if prolonged, production (especially when watched from the bum-numbing seats squeezed into the lost heights of the upper gallery).

Luckily, the exciting combination of tragicomedy and masquerade kept it enthralling. Critical reaction to the play has reached fever pitch at the three hour duration, lengthened by the peculiar and indulgent musical interludes. These songs reach a bemusing balance between ridicule and dreamy mysticism. At times, the production was in danger of finally bridging the genres and becoming ‘Tempest the Musical.’ A sprightly and androgynous Ariel, singing in a quavering falsetto voice, brought contemptuous laughs from the audience. Even Ralph gets in on the act with a few lyrical exploits.

Yet these strange songs are at the heart of the production’s success. The overt and jarring theatricality draws focus onto its own nature as a play. It ironically draws links between Prospero’s ‘art’ and dramatic illusion.  Prospero’s rejection of his magic at the end of the play has been seen to parallel Shakespeare’s farewell to playwriting. Nunn’s production highlights Shakespeare’s final questioning over the mechanisms and potency of all his theatrical works.

The director’s inconsistent pacing failed to create tension. But this is the point. This production is a tribute to bathos; the contrast of powerful existential exploration and the dubious spectacle of sprits flailing around on wires. As a result we are drawn into the very nature of theatre.

The Tempest runs at the Royal Haymarket theatre until the 29th October.

'The Moon is Halfway To Heaven' at Jermyn Street Theatre, 3/5

Dubbed ‘the jewel in the basement,’ the modest Jermyn Street Theatre hides innocuously amid the bustle and glitz of London’s West End. Its latest production, David Kerby-Kendall’s ‘The Moon is Halfway to Heaven,’ suits the cosy layout: its small central stage surrounded by tightly packed seating reminiscent of a miniature padded amphitheatre. Consequently, the audience feels like an unwanted intruder overhearing the intimate confessions driving this poignant story of life, death and friendship.

Paul (also played by Kerby-Kendall) and Jamie (Lucas Hare) are best friends who, seeking temporary respite from reality, return throughout their lives to their special place – a secluded park bench and tree. The play uses this single location to trace their unorthodox relationship, bearing witness to various contemplations on their lives from ages seven to eighty-nine.

These intimate encounters are constantly overlooked by a Mighty Boosh-style moon that becomes a symbol of childhood and mortality. It also serves the purpose of scene setting, playing topical clips from the interchanging time periods. A large screen also sits behind the stage allowing limitless backdrops that project childhood fantasies and reveal the personal, imaginative escapism of the characters.

Born after the First World War Paul and Jamie’s early lives demonstrate the happy innocence of public school Englishness – mispronouncing words, confusing ideas, and wondering how adults manage to know everything. Obvious schoolboy gaffs and mostly unimaginative jokes are buoyed by the energy and gusto with which the actors throw themselves into their childhood roles.

Their teenage years brings inevitable sexual awakening; the discovery of girls and masturbating. Ladies man Jamie is the foil to intellectual but socially incapable Paul, even teaching him how to kiss. An admirably truthful portrayal of adolescent angst gradually escalates into over-indulged laddish humour. This get drunk, male-focused comedy continues throughout their adult lives. Whilst intending to reveal their ‘young at heart’ attitude, it begins to seem rather repetitive and overdone.

War, marriage and divorce invade their experiences whilst their central friendship maintains the one loving and supportive constant. As the characters grow old reluctantly, their nostalgia for the pure imagination of childhood intensifies. They offer metaphysical and spiritual reflections on life and identity– ‘the billion things that make us who we are.’ The characters realise the tragic transience of life and perception. These insights are thought-provoking although often cross over into tedious and didactic monologues of the writer’s personal philosophies.

Where the play succeeds is in its sense of fun and the heartfelt sympathy with which the audience identifies with the relationship described in the program as ‘without a label;’ a relationship outside society’s preconceptions. What undoes this slightly is that their loutish heterocentricism underpinned by homoeroticism is the definition of conventional masculinity. What could have potentially been an interesting theme of repressed homosexuality is immediately rejected as one of those ‘labels.’

From a production that resolves in the program to confront the conventions of society, it seems to conform to many itself. The dialogue though genuinely funny and moving at times, often seems unoriginal and cheesy. Jamie’s eventual death in old age sets up a final scene that could have been from a Hollywood chick flick –Paul gazing up at the moon as a pop ballad blasts in the background.

'The Company of Strangers'

This new dark comedy, by Carol Bunyan, opened at The Courtyard Theatre last night. Socially perceptive and genuinely funny the production should not be missed. 5/5

Ken (Derek Wright) and Matron (Imogen Bain)

Carol Bunyan’s ‘The Company of Strangers’ is a dark comedy of conflict ingeniously set in the forgotten isolation of a retirement home. Such a setting provides a perfect environment for Bunyan’s merciless humour while forcing us to stare, face to face, at the repressed reality of life and death.

Nick (Alan Charlesworth) is a dedicated but overly enthusiastic nurse at The Restmore Nursing home. His life revolves around envisaging ever more ridiculous games to entertain the tired and bemused patients. His booming opening soliloquy addresses the audience as if they were patients, immediately immersing the audience into the home’s bleak atmosphere, wonderfully complemented by the immediately recognisable stage design.

The part of Nick was written specifically for Charlesworth and you can see why. His amazingly malleable facial expressions and bulging eyes are enough to inspire amusement. But what grabs hold is an immediate sense of the underlying motives that fuel the constant distraction of his endless, idiotic games. In sudden recollections, sparked by clever language associations, we learn of his terrible guilt over the death of a young boy while he worked in a casualty ward. Nick spends eight years attempting to gain access to ‘his file’, terrified of the potential accusations it contains.

Nick’s relations with the ward’s Matron (Imogen Bain) revolve around typical workplace politics. She is desperately searching for love, dishonestly marketing herself as a 12 stone, chess-playing gym enthusiast, in a hilarious satire of online dating. There is a brilliant physical comedy to her performance as she enthusiastically runs for the phone whenever it rings and regresses to a giggling teenage self as she flirts with her blind date.  Again, this ridicule is balanced with a sympathetic humanity: she confesses ‘why not me? Make him love me.’

Driving the plot forward is the conflict between the home’s employees and a pair of teenagers arriving on work experience. Matt (Aaron Mwale) and Suzy (Rebecca Farrell) initially view their time as just that; ‘we’re only work experience.’ Offering a young and fresh perspective, they come to bond with the residents, such as Ken (played brilliantly by Derek Wright) whose deafness ‘is like being on a different planet.’ While the duo remain haunted by the memory of serving ‘custard’ to the residents, unlikely parallels emerge as empathy bridges the generation gap, revealing shared understanding. 

The cruelty of institutionalism is mirrored from school to retirement home as Nick remembers poignantly his treatment by school bullies. Bunyan gradually reveals the hidden anxieties of each character in turn. We learn how the Matron and Nick both live in constant fear of rejection. Another parallel is in the idea of defining identity. The Matron’s online profile creates an external ‘self’, mirroring the threatening power of Nick’s ‘file’ suggesting, as Matt articulates, ‘the power of information.’  

What makes Bunyan’s play so rewarding is its confidence, both in its unrelenting humour and willingness to explore universal human issues in clever and subtle dialogue. The retirement home functions as a microcosm of a British society ruled by conflict. Politics, class, race, gender, sex and identity are as potent as ever and, because of its isolated setting, operate more visibly. ‘The Company of Strangers’ manages to provide constant entertainment, social satire and potential redemption through empathy, kindness and care.  Bunyan’s play is both slapstick and tragically real, revealing the shared human fears and desires that connect us all. The play ends with Nick offering the audience an ominous reminder: ‘all of you…we’ll be waiting for you.’

'Where's Your Mama Gone?'

New End Theatre, Hampstead, 3/5

(Marie Fortune and Oliver Ashworth)

Originally part of a community driven project in West Yorkshire complemented by an exhibition, Brian Daniel’s Where ‘s Your Mama Gone? is a piece of passionate polemic, highlighting the importance of childhood care, overcoming trauma and social responsibility. It feels particularly resonant at a time when ignoring the plight of the young has had dramatic social repercussions.

The play is inspired by Richard McCann’s novel Just a Boy. Richard’s mother Wilma McCann was Yorkshire Ripper Peter Sutcliffe’s first recorded murder victim in 1975. This traumatic event is used as a thematic reference point, and is the basis for this fictional story of twins, Stephen (Oliver Ashworth) and Carol (Marie Fortune) who face a childhood in institutional care after their mother is murdered by a serial killer. Blending everyday humour and scenes of poignancy, the play paints intimate portraits of these children and their violent heritage. It delves into the psychological impact of childhood trauma and explores the possibility of achieving catharsis and release.

The production opens with Stephen and Carol as children, standing back-to-back on the stage. They are isolated but mutually supportive of one another. Later we see them transform into adults via an on-stage costume change to the strains of Chumba Wumba. Their lager-guzzling adult selves are still lovingly connected to one another but in a way that is also self-destructive. The intensity of their bond is a little overdone, lacking the unspoken subtlety of a realistic sibling relationship. Stephen’s emotional progress provides the driving force of the drama. He supports his sister as she suffers mental health problems; suffocating in stasis, she seems doomed to repeat the mistakes of her mother.

The stage is bare, the space compact, but such stark proximity between audience and performer made the piece more engaging than it might have been. Disturbing scenes, such as the mother’s murder, were presented in shocking close-up. The frequency of these intense, emotionally charged scenes made for a harrowing production that was often hard work.

This was an actor-driven production with a cast of five, some playing multiple characters. Alexa Christopher-Daniels’ direction focuses on using physicality to project the psychological landscape of the characters. The most successful scene was the culmination of Stephen’s attempt to reconcile his memories as he engages in a kind of posthumous therapy session with the spirit of his mother.

Displaced from its original cultural context as part of a project aiming to heal the West Yorkshire community, there seems important narrative and conceptual gaps. Consequently, the piece takes time to find its way. Yet what power it loses in this way, it makes up for in dedication to its cause. The strong performances from the two lead cast members create something that, while flawed, is also persuasive and provocative.

Super 8

Co-Produced by Steven Spielberg, J.J. Abram’s rambunctious Super 8 relives the classic summer blockbuster, but its heady Goonies nostalgia confuses cliché for pastiche 

                    Young Love: Alice (Elle Fanning) and Joe (Joel Courtney) 

Perhaps testament to his reputation for dazzling visuals and trademark ‘lens flares,’ J.J. Abrams has created a film of kaleidoscopic refraction; majestically blending spectacle and suspense, humour and poignancy, intimacy and Hollywood hyperbole. It combines Abram’s childhood memories of making movies on a Eumig super 8 camera, with a modern CGI-ridden disaster movie. It is E.T. meets Cloverfield. The nauseating chaos of overblown special effects sequences barely disguises a loving interest in childhood friendship and overcoming personal bereavement.

The film is a school’s out summer story of Joe, an isolated pre-teen whose mother has recently died and who remains numbly distanced from his straight-laced cop father. His group of friends, obsessed with making their super 8 movie, accidently witness and record a disastrous train crash. As mysterious disappearances and violent occurrences invade the town, Joe and his friends must uncover the truth. In the process, of course, he will overcome his grief, grow up and learn to reconnect with his father. Add in some Romeo and Juliet teen romance and Super 8 delivers a typical Spielbergian coming of age story circa late seventies, early eighties.

In fact it recreates it too well. Against a fun soundtrack of Chic, the Commodores and Blondie, Super 8 eagerly presents a perfect suburban topography of small town America in the early eighties. You could turn on the film at points and think you were watching The Goonies. While this kind of nostalgic pastiche speaks of simple, old-fashioned story-telling, the film rarely divulges its own voice preferring loyal replication of Spielberg aestheticism and themes.

The disaster movie aspect delivers frantic and furious explosions, fragmented by dizzying camera sweeps and switches. Such tiring scenes could easily be regurgitated from a host of recent disaster film franchises - War of the Worlds, Cloverfield, Transformers etc.

Young pretenders:  Martin, (Gabriel Basso), Cary (Ryan Lee), Joe (Joel Courtney) and Charles (Riley Griffiths) 

Much depends on its young actors. Solid and subtle performances mean the film is a cut above most Hollywood Blockbusters. Elle fanning (sister of Dakota) emanates star quality with a natural and eye-grabbing mesmerism.

The E.T. inspired nostalgia that fuelled Abrams’ auteuristic vision, spews out a film with genuine heart. Yet what dominates is cliché, without the emotional complexity and heart-wrenching realism of Eliot’s absent father. One too many bowl cuts J.J.

Italy's Le Marche region: the new 'new Tuscany'

The Marches region of central Italy has become the latest recipient of the title ‘new Tuscany.’  But this area, exemplified by the sleepy comune of San Ginesio, holds its own identity.

The majestic views towards the Sibillini mountains.

Beneath the sublime Sibillini mountains, nestled in the crooked rural hills of Le Marche, hides San Ginesio; a small comune mostly lost on the tourist radar. Tourist guides have been increasingly burdening Le Marche with the lazily reiterated portent - ‘the new Tuscany.’ This tired analogy is perhaps the most prevalent in tourism's unimaginative nomenclature - previously branded on a host of Mediterranean destinations throughout and beyond Italy, Croatia and even Slovenia.  A more exact title for Le Marche would be something like ‘new new new new new Tuscany.’ Having said this, the region is geographically comparable - mirroring Tuscany on Italy's opposite, Adriatic coast. And if Tuscany inspires images of terraced Italian countryside, ancient sandstone hilltowns brimming with arts and culture, as well as luscious local food and wine, the title of ‘new Tuscany’ is finally, at least superficially, accurate.

Entering into the walled town of San Ginesio, it seems everything you would expect from an isolated Italian community. Passing under the grand archway, it seems a liminal gateway into an Italian fairy tale, its walls masking a resplendent, antediluvian bubble of timeless natural and architectural antiquity – a town quietly winding its way through history like the struggling puntos up the sharp gradients of its narrow streets.

You find here a proud and unique localism; a manifestation of the fierce independence of Italian regionalism that would scoff at Tuscan comparisons. Communal pride is triumphantly displayed by processions of San Ginesio flags shadowing the streets from above. In this proudly traditional environment, tourists remain transient anomalies, floating by like foreign somnambulists on the peripherals - stared at unashamedly but welcomed warmly in shops, cafes and bars. Next to the deep working tans of San Ginesio inhabitants, outsiders stick out like sandals next to white socks stretched half way over pink shins.

The cobbled streets and sandstone walls entering San Ginesio.

 What is most refreshing here is the strength of community. The vitality of San Ginesio matches its heritage; you could imagine the local characters existing unchanged from any age.  Balcony gazers hail from half-open shutters, ancient, bent over Italian women struggling with groceries up the narrow streets, winding ubiquitously to the town’s grand piazza; the epicentre of the community. Here lackadaisical old men swoon in high-trousered gangs around the square, parodies of local hoodies. Heckling in geriatric (and semi-intoxicated) cheek at the passing local policewoman they are dismissed nonchalantly in daily routine. You are recognised by the flamboyant butcher selling varieties of luxurious local meats. He communicates in a semiotic code of flailing and gesturing, not assuming for a second that you have no idea what he’s talking about.  Condensed into this buzzing local piazza are the local shops, cafes and restaurants, two ornate churches and a magnificent loggia shading the entrance to the grand but intimate theatre.

While a holiday could be easily spent relaxing in the piazza - determined to blend in with the groups of old men - there are many activities out and around San Ginesio. Hiring a car is generally a necessity. Perhaps testament to the infectious community atmosphere, a local London investment banker turned B & B owner and taxi man, Mario, lent us his car to visit the stunning nearby lakes. His extreme friendliness and multilingualism inspire a constant feeling of guilt and unworthiness (Mario is a half Greek Aussie who has lived in a scarily diverse range of European countries speaking Swedish, Hungarian and Italian, with a Russian wife and even more multilingual children). Swimming in the brisk lake and sunbathing on its slate banks can be interrupted with lunch at nearby restaurants in unspoilt lakeside comunes. Other activities in the area include trekking and cycling trips through the mountains and excursions to the Sibillini national park.

The clear refreshing water of the nearby lakes overshadowed by mountains.

Although there is a hotel in the piazza, staying in one of the beautifully located lodgings pocketed in the surrounding valleys is preferable. Our villa, Casa Knight, was a rigorous twenty minute walk from San Ginesio, but the exercise can be easily interrupted by long rests admiring the clear views of the terraced vineyards, meadows and tumbling waysides. Mario’s Shambala Country House and Spa, which I can only assume is as comforting as the man himself, is located a similar distance from San Ginesio.

Le Marche deserves more than to be known as nouveau-Tuscany. The region demonstrates a rich heritage, landscape, culture and character that have flourished in the neglected shadow of its celebrated regional neighbour. A strongly hermetic identity is highlighted in the neighbourly atmosphere where the population remain unaware of the whimsical and ominous fluctuations of tourism fads – an ignorance hard to find in the tourist-invaded Tuscany. Le Marche offers a mostly undiscovered and unique destination where you are made autonomous of your invasion whilst silently accepted as a fleeting part of a vibrant, local community. 

Tallinn – a stunning city break at half the price

With more and more Brits looking to Eastern Europe for cheaper city breaks, Estonia’s medieval capital offers Scandinavian, Russian and European experiences. But is it already spoilt?

Architectural diversity: the sublime Russian architecture of the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral

To older generations brought up on city escapes contained to conventional western tourism hubs such as Paris, Barcelona and Rome, my weekend break to Tallinn seemed to cause quiet derision – a bizarre adventure into the forgotten, alien land of the soviet bloc. Yet in recent times, rich and undiscovered capitals of Eastern Europe have unveiled themselves as provocative historical and cultural attractions. A new generation of Brits looking for cheaper and more exciting alternatives, have increasingly aimed their sights at Eastern destinations such as Prague, Budapest and Krakow.

Tallinn offers something unique: a modest city of 400,000, its Baltic position sits at the epicentre of Russian, Scandinavian and central European frontiers. Such geography establishes an eclectic legacy of history and culture both contemporary and antiquated. All at half the price of Western Europe.

With its jaunty chaos of medieval buildings, sublime Russian churches and narrow cobbled streets, Tallinn’s Old Town is the crown jewel of Estonian tourism, becoming an UNESCO World Cultural Heritage site in 1997. The enclosed streets are awash with strange and wonderful architecture, magnificently archaic clocks and stained glass windows. At night, silhouetted lager guzzlers giggling in dark alleyways, interrupt a feeling of silent surrender to the ever-bourgeoning number of curious arrivals.

 ‘Raekoja plats,’ the city square, though surrounded by overly priced cafes, remains a beautiful space. Tallinn’s new pedigree as ‘cultural capital 2011’ has meant determined acts of national celebration - an erected stage adorns the square as part of the ‘Old Town Festival.’ Its variety of performances ranged from the confusing to the questionable; a stumbling duo of youngsters dressed as jesters preceded the headline act of what can only be described as a series of old woman group dance-offs.

Old woman dance-off – the strange entertainment of the Old Town festival in Raekoja Plats

The Old Town’s sights and activities are viewable in a single day. Climbing St.Olav’s tower (the tallest building in the world in 1549) is perhaps the highlight. Well-worth the claustrophobic ascent its wondrous panorama of the tumbling, rooftop skyline reaches all the way to the sea. Excursions outside the crowded Old Town streets are distinctly refreshing with trips to the Kadriog palace park and the brilliant nearby art museum.

Tallinn holds a strange contrast between the diverse depth of its culture, architecture and cuisine, and its modern tourist identity. Its genuine charm is often submerged by an overly twee masquerade defined by patronising foreigners coming out of grander and livelier home cities.

Its small scale should vitalise a community atmosphere, whilst in fact meaning tourism is concentrated. You can sense the cobbled streets ever-eroding beneath the waddling processions of middle-aged tour-goers and old continental couples. Its atmosphere, while perfect for friendly late night partying, is stagnated by hostels, surprisingly expensive cafes and such superficial but amusing pageantry as dining in ‘Ye Olde Hansa,’ served by waitresses in tacky medieval attire.

Having said this, whilst true cultural discovery can prove an endeavour, the joy of Tallinn is in its diverse, alien beauty and obscure fun: as historical information often gives way to modern pastiche, visitors are left trying to figure out what exactly is going on. Tallinn offers a relaxing sleepwalk into an unknown melting pot of history, restocking your cultural fix with ample chance for rest and contemplation in its spawning cafés. For those seeking a lively cultural veracity, other Eastern European city breaks such as Budapest or Berlin would offer greater fulfilment.