Du Pre tragic, sublime

Press, 13 April 1988, Page 15

Du Pre tragic, sublime

Ruth Zanker

I on television

My original intention during last Sunday’s rainy afternoon was to sew on grey school-shirt buttons while I listened to Jacqueline du Pre play Elgar’s Cello Concerto. I found myself riveted by the programme instead. Du Pre’s passionate playing makes sense of ' “filmed music.” I talk in the present because of the immediacy ( of film. Jacqueline du Pre died fivfe months ago. Christopher Nupen's original film was made 20 years ago. We all know that her I glorious cello-playing was cut short by the onset of multiple sclerosis. The images of her musically precocious childhood, her joyous concert debuts, and her relationship with Daniell Barenboim are coloured by this tragic knowledge. Nupen’s decision to frame his 20-year-old j with shots he! took of Jacqueline du Pre after she had been I forced to give up the cello merely heightened the poignancy. I These shots showed her humming her Elgar Cello Concerto so that her celloplaying amanuensis could I write down her fingering

for students. She looked transported. I I | | Documentary film-mak-ing lends itself I to ireediting in this way. One director may) return . to earlier subjects with i insights that can (deepen over time. .It’s just la pity that the "one-off" packaging of documentary means that it takes; a 'tragedy ' ; to (make this strategy marketable. | So in the afternoon ! we were offered a marvellous documentary | about I an amazing woman. | j | So much for the sub-'

lime. Now for the ridiculous.

In the evening slot we were served up fiction about women ' worthy of “Girls’ Own Annual,” a post-liberation “Girls’ Own.”

How I wish Hillman College could show us “A Different World.” As it is; it all seems tediously similar, the same old hipplutocracy of the newright, Black-American style. It felt better on “The Cosby Show.” Cosby is a very funny man whatever his setting — or values. I' Denise, on the other hand, just grows more anorexic as she’s forced to keep up with her privileged, assertive, intelligent, pimple-less young women friends. This is unhealthy viewing for any mere mortal under menopause. Her sagas involve -the usual angsts about “relating" and being popular. This is deadly serious funniness. Her companions are sure that they’re liberated. But it’s strange to see them inviting sexist' comments with their body language. They declare they’re caring. Yet it’s disconcerting to see their,

conspicuous consumption. This is success as modelled for a Competitive sorority. I I found the series title particularly perplexing. We had echoes of a sixties campus-happening; dancing on car roof, slide guitar, and harmonica. But look closer. It’s all tricked out in expensive couture -and images. Those upwardly-mobile rock-revolutionaries have a lot to answer for. Which makes it rather nice to notice our homegrown “Herbs” getting work on television outside that long-running fast-food advertisement. To appear in two programmes on one day must be a record. “Signs of the Times” had the added bonus of Shona Laing. It’s a great idea. I’ll watch this programme for developments. It’d be good to be able to look forward to a day when more of our best talent in music, design, acting, directing, and cinematography could come out from under the ads and be part of the regular programming. Until then, thank goodness for ads! At least they keep lots of our artists in bread and butter.