Brighton Festival

Every year the Festival has some star attractions. For me this is often the music. I would have loved to see the jazz musician, Courtney Pine, or Dave Thomas (whom you may know as the front man of rock band, Pere Ubu). In the literature programme they had Margaret Atwood and Germaine Greer. I'm sure that the classical music, theatre and dance programmes had good stuff too, though I know less about the artists and groups involved. Sadly all this stuff was sold out before I knew I could go.

Quick Tips:

Firstly, there is a web site. Keep an eye on it. The Festival is in May, so think about booking in March if they will let you.

Hotels are expensive, and the festival lasts three weeks. If you can't afford to stay for the whole thing, look at the programme carefully and pick out a good week. Include both weekends if you can.

You don't need to stay in Brighton. It will be packed and expensive, and the clubbers make a dreadful row in the middle of the night. Stay in Hove instead. Bus fares into town are only a pound (.45).

Take a look at the Royal Pavilion while you are in town. See my journal on Historic Brighton for details.

Eat out, Brighton has some wonderful restaurants.

Best Way To Get Around:

Central Brighton is fairly compact. You can walk to all of the Festival events from the town centre. Buses to outlying districts such as Hove are a flat rate of one pound (.45) to just about anywhere. Late at night get a taxi after a show - they are plentiful.

Yes, I know, I have written about this place a lot before. But if you are reading this Brighton journal before any of my others please go and read why I love this hotel. They are great people, and I stay here whenever I can.

I think I have said just about everything I can say about the welcome and the food, so here are a few facts and figures:

- there are 23 rooms;
- the hotel is 200 metres from the sea;
- every room has satellite TV, tea and coffee making facilities, phone and hair-dryer;
- I have no problem accessing the Internet on the hotel phones. Indeed, because they have ISDN I get better access in the hotel than I do at home;
- they are even working on having online booking, which for a hotel of that size is pretty awesome.

Check out their web site for more details.

Having lived in Melbourne and San Francisco I am badly spoiled for Chinese restaurants. What you get in England tends to pale in comparison. There are some good places in London's Chinatown, but elsewhere a good Chinese restaurant is hard to find. Brighton, it seems, has one.

One thing that you should possibly not do, however, is go to a good Chinese restaurant with vegetarians. Not that I blame Tom and Antony for this. They liked the restaurant, and the Chinese make a lot of good vegetarian dishes. But it does mean that you can't have any of the set meals, which are by far the best way of getting to sample lots of dishes (and hence the quality of the restaurant) quickly. It means no crispy fried duck either, which is the one thing that Chinese restaurants in Britain do really well.

No complaints, however, I had a delicious prawn starter with a chili dip, followed by beef in black pepper sauce. It was good stuff. I've had better, but I would certainly be very happy to go back to this place. The boys seemed very happy with their food too. They are locals and I'm assuming that they would not have taken me there if they didn't like the food.

The décor is good too. Sun Bo Seng has a sparse, metallic look, without being threatening the way many such designs are. There was plenty of room inside. None of this cramming every diner in and not allowing them room to move. It is a nice place, and I liked it.

If you are going to do a "family style" Italian restaurant one of the worst places to do it must be in Britain. In my journal on San Francisco's South of Market, I mention the wonderful Buca di Beppo restaurant. They have the idea down pat. But can you imagine a typical British restaurant piling the plates with food? Not a chance, the stuff is too expensive here. And can you imagine British restaurant staff doing the fat and jolly Italian waiter bit? No way, they go about their work sullenly, seemingly muttering, "we are waiters, and we hate being waiters, it is so demeaning". The concept just doesn't work in Britain, which is a shame.

I went to Donatello's because I had been tutoring at a training course run by Guy Doyle's company. From Guy's point of view it was a good place to pick. We had a bunch of recent graduates to entertain, and family style Italian restaurants are just the place to do that: decent, cheap food and plenty of reasonable/quality wine. It is only a bad thing if you have seen the concept done properly and you know how poorly the restaurant you are in compares to others of the same ilk.

Anyway, it was an OK evening, and the food was perfectly acceptable. It is just that I was still hungry after the main course. At Buca di Beppo I am frequently stuffed before the main course arrives! Sorry Donatello's, you just don't cut the mustard.

Brighton is a very trendy place, and consequently there are quite a few vegetarian restaurants. The top class place to go is Terre a Terre, which happens to be next door to Sun Bo Seng. If you are short of money, however, or just need a snack, Food for Friends is a very acceptable alternative. I went there for a quick bite to eat with Tom Arden before going off to see Deirdre Counihan's open house.

Food for Friends is deep in The Lanes, and seems to have been made by knocking several small shops together. It is something of a warren inside, but actually that gives it a rather intimate atmosphere. When you are eating you can only see 2 or 3 other tables, not 20. The only real problems are finding the front door to begin with, and finding your way out afterwards.

There is no table service, you buy your food at the counter on your way in which, for those of us not used to vegetarian food (myself included), provides a useful opportunity to see what you are getting. The food is good too, and cheap.

If you are worried about health or political fanatics, fear not. For all its organic posturing, Food for Friends looks like it is vegetarian restaurant for reasons of fashion more than anything. It doesn't ban smoking, and it advertises power breakfasts with unlimited coffee refills just like any American restaurant.

This restaurant is very conveniently located just a few doors away from the Pavilion Theatre. Tom and I ate there before going to the Adam Phillips presentation. Zafferellis is a good example of how the UK can get Italian restaurants right. Instead of going for the "family style" thing they major in getting the food right.

There is a tendency to think of Italian food as things that come out of a microwave: pizza and lasagne. There is more to it than that. It doesn't have to be junk food; it can be very good. Zafferellis tries to do that, and by and large they succeed. I had penne putanesca, which is a San Francisco speciality, and I wasn't disappointed. Tom was very happy with his lasagne verdi as well.

Another point in the restaurant's favour is that they never once tried to rush us. We knew when the show started, and we were not keen on moving until we needed to. I don't think that the restaurant was ever completely full while we were there, but it was busy. Many British restaurants in busy city areas have a habit of hassling you to eat quickly and kicking you out the minute you have drained the last of your coffee. It was a pleasure to be given time to enjoy the meal.

One of the few disadvantages of the Adastral Hotel is that there are not many restaurants really close to the hotel. Not that you really need one after eating one of the Adastral's wonderful breakfasts, but occasionally I arrive there late at night after a long journey and could do with a meal. Besides, I like food. So, it was with some pleasure that I noticed a new restaurant had opened just one block away. "Moroccan", it said, "organic; the passion and art of food." Somebody here cares about food. This could be good, and it was.

Coriander isn't exactly a Moroccan restaurant. It isn't exactly fusion either. It happens to specialise in tagines, the Moroccan stews, and they do excellent couscous. They also do dishes from other parts of the world: Mexico, for example, or south-east Asia. About the most fusion that they get is the kangaroo and prune tagine. It was delicious.

The restaurant serves a number of unusual meats. The menu also includes crocodile, guinea fowl, rabbit and ostrich, not to mention buffalo milk mozzarella. This isn't any particular political statement, or an attempt to be fashionably different, it is about food. Meat from wild animals tends to be leaner, and better flavoured, than that from farmed animals. It doesn't get bulked up with injected water either. Equally Coriander serves organically-grown vegetables for the very simple reason that they taste better.

Prior to the kangaroo I had crostini spread with the buffalo milk mozzarella and home made pesto. I also really splashed out on the beer. Yes, they have organic beers and wines too. There was this particular Belgian beer called Chimay, which is brewed by Trappist monks at Scourmont Abbey. It has secondary fermentation in the bottle, which I gather is a good thing for beer. I'm not an expert, but I had never understood before why the British get so excited about their warm beer. Now I know, it can be done right, and those Belgian monks are masters. It was very expensive, about $14 for a 750ml bottle, but boy did it taste great. (http://www.chimay.be/)

I was so impressed with Coriander that I went back for their Sunday brunch. I had, after all, been promised roast ostrich, and it was every bit as good as the chef had said it would be. It was firm and thinly sliced, just like roast beef, but it had a somewhat richer flavour and was wonderfully tender. The fishcake was brilliant too, and the Bavarian cheesecake.

Brief summary: Coriander is a wonderful restaurant and I'm going back there as often as I can afford.

What is it they say, as American as motherhood and apple pie? Why then, what the good people of Brighton must need is a real American momma and real American home cookin', all served to the beat of some real American soul music. Get on down people, it is time to get eatin'.

Momma Cherri's is one of Brighton's newest restaurants, and I guarantee that the city has not seen anything like this before. It is located in a lane close to the town hall, in what clearly used to be someone's house. This is ideal, because the front room of the restaurant is decked out to look like Momma's front room, even down to the photographs of her family back in Philadelphia. The walls are also festooned with a fine collection of covers from Ebony and Jet magazines, many of sufficient vintage that they can only have come from a private collection. The music, as you might expect, is superb.

Of course this is about food as well. The menu is full of traditional American dishes: pancakes, fried chicken, cornbread, chocolate brownies and, of course, apple pie. It doesn't quite come in the huge piles that you would get back in the States, because this is Britain and food is expensive. Nor does it generally come quite as spicy as is traditional, but ask and you can have the real thing. This is, of course, home cooking, prepared for you by Momma Cherri herself, right on the premises. So it might not be haute cuisine, but it sure doesn't come out of a packet and a microwave. I was particularly impressed to get both hot sauce and blue cheese sauce with my buffalo wings, and both were excellent. The brownies were superb as well.

I happened to go early in the evening when things were fairly quiet. It would be interesting to go back when there are crowds. The music is infectious and I suspect that people find it hard to resist dancing, even if they are stuffed. I would also like to see the Sunday brunch, as they promise a real, live gospel choir.

In short, Momma Cherri's is about having fun. The food is good, and the atmosphere is great. How many other restaurants like this do you know of in Britain? So it has to be worth a try, right?

My primary interest in the Festival is the literary programme. I am an avid book reader, and I can always guarantee some fascinating discussions even if they are about books I would not normally read.

The literary events are generally held in the Pavilion Theatre and cost around $9 a session. The theatre is an OK venue. The seating is very steeply banked, so you have no problem seeing, and the sound is good. However, the theatre is small, and can get very warm in the evening after a hot day.

I saw two events this year, both of which cost about $9 each. They were very different. One was about global capitalism, the other about psychotherapy. Doesn't sound very appetising? Don't bet on it, read on.

The interesting thing about George Monbiot and Adair Turner was that, from an American perspective, they might be seen as being on the same side. Nevertheless they produced a robust debate. Monbiot is a hard line Socialist determined to stir up fears about the world being taken over by Big Business. Turner is in the new mould of European politics, happy to exist in a Capitalist economy, but at the same time determined to create a fair and just society. Monbiot, though an excellent speaker, was essentially a rabble rouser. Turner, on the other hand, taught me an awful lot about economics in a very short speech. I was so impressed I bought his book.

The other event featured psychotherapist, Adam Phillips. The more I see of psychotherapists, the more I become convinced that you have to be mad to be one. Phillips was a prime example, yet at the same time it was obvious that he was a very clever man. His views were very much at odds with the prevailing orthodoxy, and many of the audience became quite exercised at his refusal to seek scientific proof of the efficacy of his work. They also worried that someone who worked as a child psychologist would not necessarily seek to "cure" a child whose parents complained that there was something "wrong" with her. Phillips, however, is not a man for black and white.

One audience member quoted a passage from one of Phillips' books in which he said that there is nothing "wrong" with anyone, and challenged him to explain that assertion. Phillips explained that people adopt anti-social behaviour because it helps them somehow. You can't get them to stop by telling them it is wrong, you have to find out why they thought it was right for them, and help them understand why that view may no longer be appropriate. Not so mad after all, is he?

One of the best features of the Festival is the tradition of artists' open houses. The idea is very simple. Some brave souls decide to turn over their houses to the public for the three weeks of the Festival. They decorate their houses with their own art, and with that of their friends. The public is welcomed in, and the artists sell what they can.

I know Deirdre Counihan through my connections with the science fiction community. She works on the Brighton-based fiction magazine, Scheherazade , and is also the house cover artist for Big Engine, a new science fiction publishing house. Many of Deirdre's book covers were on show in the house. The fact that I know several of the authors of the books, and that one of them, Tom Arden, was there with me, made the occasion even more special.

The rest of the art on display was all from people who have provided illustrations for Scheherazade. However, the majority of the other art was by Deirdre's friend, Julia Sexton. Julia does some particularly good garden ornaments in the form of animals. Have a look at the photograph of the giraffes and you'll see what I mean. Just the sort of thing to have peeping over your fence to worry passers by.

You can find out more about Scheherazade Magazine from their web site. For details of Big Engine (and some of Deirdre's cover art) see http://www.bigengine.co.uk/, and for more about Tom Arden go to http://www.tomarden.com/.

I know Liz Allen because I have done a lot of work for a company owned by her husband, Guy Doyle. That is all in my secret identity as an electricity industry consultant. Liz isn't involved in that business (save for decorating the company offices). She does paintings and digital collages instead.

I particularly liked Liz's map paintings. The idea here is that Liz takes a map of a city and uses it as a basis for a painting, representing some of the physical shape of the map, but superimposing other elements that give an impression of the spirit of the location. Liz describes the paintings as abstract landscapes.

Along with her own work, Liz was exhibiting work by her friends, Dawn Stacey and Jane Hawkins. Dawn produced bold, stylised paintings that draw heavily on mythical traditions, particularly those of the local area. Jane produces pottery and other ceramic work that is inspired by the local beaches and cliffs.

You can see more examples of Liz Allen's work on her web site. You may also like to try http://www.kemptownartists.com, which features work from a variety of Brighton artists.

For a while I was quite disappointed at the absence of street events at the Festival. Then it occurred to me that I was being very stupid - all of the action was down by the beach on the weekend. I took a walk.

Brighton Beach has plenty goings on throughout the summer, but during Festival it is buzzing. The day I went, the main entertainment was the "Mackerel Fair" being provided by the Fisherman's Museum (see my Historic Brighton journal). They had a ceremonial Blessing of the Nets (it was Sunday) and followed this with a program of music and dance events linked in various ways with fishing and the sea.

There were Morris Men everywhere. I don't think there was any sort of competition going on, but I saw several separate groups of Morris Men performing at various places. As mad British traditions go, Morris Dancing is a pretty good example. What amazes me is that they go through those routines after many pints of beer, and don't manage to kill each other with those wooden staffs.

But the biggest event of the day on the sea front was the Mini Fair. That's Mini as in car - the funny little thing that you see in films about '60s Britain - all Mary Quant and young Michael Caine. There are people who are nuts about this car. Far more nuts than people get about most cars, and people can get very nutty about cars. All around the country there are Mini owners clubs. But on this particular day every one of them was in Brighton. I have never seen so many Minis in one place in all my life.

So what did they do? Mostly they displayed their cars, which were all beautifully turned out, and many of which had been customised beyond recognition. Elsewhere there were stalls selling all manner of motoring accessories. And of course there was some sort of contest in which earnest young men flung their Minis around an obstacle course with much squealing of tires. Quite what all this had to do with an arts festival I'm not sure, but it was very impressive.

One street event that is getting its own entry is Dieppe Market. I confess that this is primarily because I got some really good photographs of it, but it was well worth going to.

But wait, I hear you say, surely Dieppe is a town in France, what is it doing in a report about Brighton? Well may you ask. The answer is very simple. Given all the action going on in Brighton at the time, the farmers of Dieppe take one weekend a year to go on holiday to England and set up shop there. Yes folks, a real French street market right outside Brighton town hall.

So what do you get? Well, just about everything you might get back home in Dieppe. Cheese, of course, lots of it. And sausages, pate, fresh fish, mustard, cider, honey, pastries, all supported by vast piles of those famous baguettes. All fresh off the farm (or out of the sea). Yum!

My problem was that I had just had a hotel breakfast and I was really not prepared to eat any more just then, especially as I knew I had roast ostrich waiting for me later in the day. Which is a shame because the food looked wonderful. Quite a bit of what was available could probably have been bought in a local supermarket for rather less - the Dijon mustard for example. But the French were so enthusiastic about their food that you felt it just had to taste better.

There were some great sights too. Quite why the man selling Normandy Oysters had a fish on his head I do not know, but it drew in the crowds. Slightly more confusing was the stall selling "pate du lapin". "Ooh, that looks nice, what is it?" people would ask. Wisely the French shrugged and pretended not to understand the question, though they did have some pictures of cute bunnies in case anyone was smart enough to take the hint.

Again, what this has to do with an arts festival I do not know, but it was great to have the French there. I guess the mere fact of the festival attracts loads of other stuff, and that has to be a good thing.