Episode 20 The Culture Show

This is Tate Modern and yes, it's The Culture Show.

Tonight, we have a living paintbrush,

a dazzling skyline,

and a cautionary tale.

But first, classical musician Evgeny Kissin,

described by some as the greatest musician alive,

here in the UK for two rare performances.

Clemency Burton-Hill met up with the famously private genius

for an even rarer interview.

Growing up in 1980s' Moscow,

Evgeny Kissin looks a lot like any other young boy,

with one big difference.

Evgeny Kissin started playing the piano aged two

and has been astonishing audiences ever since.

At six, he was studying at Moscow's music school for gifted children.

And by 12, he was an international sensation.

Now aged 41, he's arguably one of the greatest pianists of all time.

Yet, he hasn't always been popular with critics,

some of whom claim he's robotic and emotionally stunted,

relying on technical genius alone.

In other words,

an archetype of former prodigy cocooned in a bubble of music.

I think they are wrong.

Kissin is notoriously shy.

And he's also very enigmatic, both on and off stage.

But I think he's so much more than just a technician.

Not only are his musical instincts pretty much unerring,

but he can also communicate incredibly profound and sophisticated,

and, often, deeply moving musical ideas.

He rarely gives interviews though,

so I'm hoping that this will be the chance

to get a bit of an insight into his genius.

Your rise was so meteoric,

you made your debut at 12 and the whole world was watching.

How did you deal with that?

I had always, since childhood,

loved playing in public.

That was an unconscious urge

to share with others the music I loved.

But I have never in my life strived for fame.

In my early twenties,

fame, in fact, was very painful for me.

I felt almost physical pain

when strangers approached me on the street.

It took me years to learn to cope with that.

As Kissin grew older,

the relentless cycle of touring seemed to take its toll.

Some critics suggested his playing was cold and emotionally detached,

that he was coasting along on his natural technique

and prodigious musical talent.

In my early twenties, as I was giving more and more concerts,

the feeling of routine inevitably crept in.

Something happened which helped me to get rid of it.

When I was in Cologne playing,

I had a free hour and I went for a walk.

I walked along the pedestrian street there

and heard wonderful playing of one of Beethoven's quartets.

They had a violin case there on the ground for money.

Not only were they playing on a very high professional level,

but they were doing it with such passion,

with such involvement...

..that I immediately thought and said to myself...

"..Shame on you! And you dare sometimes to go on stage..."

"..and not give all of yourself,

"because you are not in the mood."

-Which helped me...

-And now, do you feel you always give yourself?

-Yes, I do.

-You're always passionate, every time.

Every concert is an event for me now.

There are musicians whose initial approach is cerebral,

it's a kind of intellectual analysis of what the music is doing.

Do you feel there's an emotional tension in your playing at all

between the intellect and instinct?

Well... I think it has always been there.

I'm not an intellectual type of musician,

but one cannot achieve much without brains in life

and a musician, a musical performer, cannot achieve much

without brains in music.

I think that I am a romantic type of personality,

with all the faults of this type of personality

and with all the suffering it inevitably brings to one's life.

And that, inevitably and naturally, manifests itself in my playing.

It seems like you instinctively respond so deeply to music,

are there certain composers, more than others,

to whom you feel a particular profound connection?

Bach is someone...

who stands above all, for me.

And Chopin is the closest one to my heart.

Of course, I'm sure I always knew it with my heart,

but only recently I finally realised it with my head.

It is Frederic Chopin.

Would it ever be possible to describe or to analyse and put into words

-why you have that relationship to his music?

-Oh, no...

That's a very personal question and...

that would need to be...

-Heard, I mean, when you play Chopin...

-No, analysed scientifically.

But even then, the scientific results or analysis that they might get,

-what would that tell us? I mean...

-Then, they would...

They might be able to analyse and understand

why I love the woman I love.

But I myself don't want to know that.

APPLAUSE

From pianos to paintings,

as we head to the intoxicating world of avant-garde artist Yves Klein,

whose work is included in a new exhibition here, at Tate Modern.

Alastair Sooke brushed up for a meeting with the muse and model

who collaborated with Klein on some of his most controversial action paintings.

On the evening of 9th March 1960,

the social elite of Paris made their way to see a new artwork

by enfant terrible Yves Klein.

The dress code - formal.

Attendance - strictly invitation only.

What they witnessed that night would become an instant sensation.

Klein was already making waves within the art world

with his conceptual experiments, his vast monochrome canvases

and his love of pure colour.

In particular, a shade he patented as International Klein Blue.

But this new work was dramatically different.

Klein was introducing the world to his living brushes.

The audience gasped as nude models appeared

and began covering themselves in blue paint,

with Klein quietly instructing each of them

to position and press their torso and thighs onto the canvas.

Klein called these works the Anthropometries,

and went on to create more than 150 of them.

Klein is one of those avant-garde, post-war artists

who are now enshrined an art world legend.

For many people, his Anthropometries were groundbreaking performance art,

but, for some at least, over the years,

they've started to look a little bit sexist.

Whatever you reckon, though,

there's no doubt that they cemented Klein's reputation

as the grand provocateur of modern art.

Elena Palumbo-Mosca lived with Klein in Paris in the late '50s,

when he was still a little-known artist

and she was dancing in nightclubs to make ends meet.

She became Yves' favourite model

and collaborated on more than 20 Anthropometries.

I've come to meet her.

So, Elena, we're inside the Tate's new show, A Bigger Splash,

and, immediately, your eyes drawn to this footage,

which is really wonderful,

of the events known as Anthropometries Of The Blue Era, from 1960.

-I mean, that's now quite a long time ago.

-Over 52 years ago.

And what was the reaction?

Because, in 1960, this must have seemed pretty shocking.

After we finished it,

there were some very bitter discussions at the gallery.

People were not very friendly to you, I think, in those days.

To Yves, they didn't, they were angry by what he was doing?

They were angry, yes. Some...

quite a few of them were angry,

even his own mother was not too pleased,

because she thought he was destroying art in a way.

Why do think he asked you to participate in his works,

in the Anthropometries?

Well, because we knew each other and we liked each other,

and he knew that, in a way, I enjoyed also doing things

that the so-called normal people would criticise.

So, you liked the provocative side of it?

Of course, yes.

-And why was that?

-It's the way I am.

Even now, I'm a rather undignified old lady.

I mean, what do you feel about this phrase that's attached

to the models for Yves Klein's work, that's come about?

I mean, they're known as his living brushes, his living paintbrushes.

I don't think Yves ever used that word.

We weren't brushes, we were persons.

But lots of people have subsequently become almost irritated

by some of these works that Yves did,

because they say that they are sexist.

And he's always sort of there in sort of white gloves,

and looks extremely dandyish, well-attired but in control.

And it's as though there's an inequality

between the men and the women.

One could perhaps see things in this way,

but I think it would be wrong,

because it would be a very superficial judgement.

I think the white gloves...

and the...formal dress

was supposed to mean,

"Look, it's not important that I use my hands to do it,

"what is important is what is in my mind."

And he was able to communicate to us his ideas,

so that we would be like actresses

in the hands of a film director, for example.

Yves, himself, said that his paintings were the ashes of his art.

So this is the fire.

THEY LAUGH

The performance was the fire, the result were the ashes.

One performance in particular has shaped the way

that people think about the Anthropometries.

Klein agreed to a re-enactment using hired actresses

to be part of a documentary film called Mondo Cane,

by Italian director Gualtiero Jacopetti.

But when he attended the film's premiere,

Klein was shocked by what he saw.

When Yves went to Cannes to see the film

and he saw what came out of...of his work,

he was really very, very depressed.

Where you see Yves looking like a madman

and some very vulgar girls,

just rolling themselves with cheap erotic attitudes.

He was really destroyed by this, because he had hoped

that Cannes would have been the place where, at last,

he would have been recognised as a great artist.

Shortly after seeing the film, Klein suffered his first heart attack.

Within a month, he was dead.

He was just 34 years old.

In his short, but prolific career,

Yves Klein was never far from controversy.

He once paraded 1,001 balloons through Paris

releasing them in front of bemused members of the public.

Klein was brilliant at creating a sensation,

but he also did more than that.

His work challenged the very idea of what art could be

and, for that, he'll always be remembered. Vive the blue revolution!

And you can see the exhibition until 1st April next year.

Next, we take a trip across the Thames to cast an architectural eye over London.

Town planning may not sound very rock and roll,

but one man is throwing a whole new light on the process.

Tom Dyckhoff took to the streets to meet the man who's transformed the city skyline.

The City of London in the early 1980s had a bit of an image problem.

It was old and fusty, not exactly a sexy place to work.

But all that was soon to change.

A Big Bang happened in the City of London today,

it was the day when old-fashioned practices gave way

to new ways of working and to the computer.

Big Bang had an explosive effect on London's Square Mile.

The sudden deregulation of the financial markets in 1986

saw an influx of big international banks.

And the once secluded cabal of privately owned British firms

was smashed almost overnight.

In with their money came design-busting buildings,

like Lloyds and the Gherkin,

which transformed London's skyline,

sealing its image as a thrusting world-leading financial centre.

And soon, these would be joined

by a new generation of soaring skyscrapers.

The Leadenhall Building, dubbed the Cheesegrater,

is said to rise 736 feet.

The Pinnacle, a whopping 944,

making it the highest building in the City.

That all this new growth

has taken place in the dense, mediaeval streets of the Square Mile,

tightly packed with historic listed buildings,

is quite remarkable. Pretty much down to one man.

The puppet master who's directed

the City's leading role on the world stage

is Peter Rees, its Chief Planning Officer.

-Lovely to meet you, Peter.

-Hello, Tom.

-What is it like to survey your kingdom?

Oh, well, I wouldn't describe it quite as my kingdom,

but I have had a 27-year love affair with this place, the City of London.

It is probably the best boys train set in the world to play with.

When you began, that was kind of the period when Prince Charles was being,

his classic period of being outspoken about modern architecture,

and all those battles were all taking place around here.

How did that influence?

The City has always been interested in everybody's points of view.

But, at the end of the day, there has to be change

-if the City is going to survive.

-That means you must make a lot of enemies.

I know a lot of your decisions have been quite controversial.

And you've been quite rude about some of the Heritage lobby,

-I mean, you called the...

-What?

-You called English Heritage "Heritage Talibans," or something like that.

Yes, I should have said Mujahedeen, of course, I was incorrect.

Um... But, yeah, I can be a bit outspoken.

I suppose that goes with the territory of being a Welshman.

-I think I'd like to take a tour. Would you like to show me around?

-Let's go and see the City.

This is one of our latest projects - the Walkie-Talkie.

You can see the way it curves towards the top

and it's dished on the front and on the back.

Do you always need a funny nickname nowadays for a new building in the City?

The public do expect a building to have a nickname.

This one originally looked rather like a one piece Swedish telephone from the 1960s.

And then, that seemed to morph into a walkie-talkie.

It's definitely unique. I can't think of anything else...

Oh, yes. It's the only walkie-talkie I know

that's being constructed at the present.

Let's have a little sneak preview.

-Wow, here we are!

-Here we are, 20th floor.

This is what it's all about, isn't it? There is the competition!

Well, yes, the Shard, on the south side of the river. We don't talk about that.

That's somewhere else. That's over in the big, wild wood.

So, how important is it to you for these kind of buildings

to be accessible to the public?

Very important. I mean, on the other side of the river,

we've got the Shard, with its public viewing galleries at the top, £25 a throw.

In the City, as high again as we are now in this building,

there will be public viewing galleries,

three floors of restaurants and bars, and free access.

That was one of the planning conditions when we gave approval for this building,

that there should be free public access to the top of the building.

God, so here is the money shot, in every sense of the word.

-Isn't it?

-That's quite a cluster.

-This is a cluster of towers.

I hear you had a bit of a hand in the shape of the Gherkin.

At the stage when the Gherkin was designed,

they came to my office with a building that looked rather similar to that one,

but it was much fatter and lower.

And I remember saying in the meeting

that, "If only you could make it thinner and taller,

"it'd be more elegant, and I think would work better in planning terms."

So, I suppose, you could say it was Lord Foster who designed the Gherkin

and Peter Reeves that squeezed it.

HE LAUGHS

And there you have the architect in you coming out as well.

-Do you find it hard not to micro-manage, get involved in the details...?

-It is hard.

But, at the end of the day, it's the planner's job

to actually explain why something doesn't work.

And it's the architect's job to come up with a solution.

And I try not to cross that boundary.

-Do you have to grit your teeth sometimes when you see what comes on your desk?

-I do.

I mean, there are times when something is so awful

that I have to take a hand.

But the best a planner can do

is to make mediocrity out of awfulness.

For excellence, you have to have a committed architect.

HE CHUCKLES

-Cheers, Tom.

-Yeah.

-The end of the day in the City.

-I was going to say...

The ties come off and it's time to relax.

Well, there's more and more of these kind of places in the City for having fun,

which is, presumably, a key part of your strategy.

Yes, I mean, in the mid '80s,

all the pubs closed at eight o'clock in the evening,

and everybody'd gone home, just back to the suburbs.

And when people did party, especially on a Thursday night,

they had to go to the West End to do it.

It seemed to us sensible that people working in the City,

working hard during today, should be able to party in the City as well.

The counterargument is that actually what's been created in the City

is obviously a playground for the rich.

Only a certain number of people or a certain type of person really is invited to the City of London.

The homeless are very absent from the City of London.

Buskers... Anyone of that kind of background are not really welcomed to the party.

And, I suppose, you've been amazing

in creating the appearance of public space,

but, actually, a lot of this public space is private space.

So how do you square those two?

That space is enjoyed by people who come to visit as tourists.

They come over the Millennium Bridge to visit St Paul's Cathedral,

they wander off into the little alleyways and pocket parks in the City.

You don't have to be a signed-up member of the City club

to come into the City.

So I don't think there is that exclusivity, it's in people's minds.

You've had quite an amazing career and you've worked in a place

which is a part of the country, which is flooded with money

and it's quite gilded in many ways.

Do you think that you might have achieved more

working, I guess, in place that would demand your skills greater,

a place with less money, or a place with fewer opportunities?

Aren't those the kind of places that really need a sharp city planner?

I like to think the important thing is to find a place

and stick with it.

Planning is not a quick business.

I don't have much time for people who go in for a couple of years

and walk away before you see the results.

You have to get into the spirit of the place,

absorb it, fall in love with it.

Then, you're a useful planner.

Well, Peter, thanks for your time. Good luck. Another 27 years.

It's been a pleasure, Tom.

Thanks for coming and sharing the City with me.

And now, to Danish film director Thomas Vinterberg,

known for his maverick and brave film-making style.

His latest project, The Hunt, is no less courageous,

as it deals with some of the complicated issues

involved in accusations of child abuse.

I had the chance to talk to him about the film

ahead of its release on November 30th.

GUNSHOT

Thomas Vinterberg first made his name

on the international movie scene with Festen (The Celebration),

a raw account of a hidden legacy of child abuse

filmed according to the austere rules

of the Dogme 95 Vow Of Chastity.

These rules included handheld cameras, no incidental music,

no superficial action and no director credit.

All with the aim of purifying film-making

to concentrate on the tough stories

that people often don't want to tell.

Now, Vinterberg has returned to the subject of child abuse

with Jagten (The Hunt)

which, in terms of both style and substance,

offers the flip side of Festen.

Not only is the film much more traditional in its look,

but the story concentrates this time not on the awful reality,

but the false accusation of child abuse.

The film centres around Lucas, played by Mads Mikkelsen,

a kindergarten teacher whose world collapses

when he's wrongly accused by a young child at his place of work.

-So, Thomas, welcome to The Culture Show.

-Thanks.

You've described Jagten (The Hunt) as the antithesis of Festen.

What did you mean by that?

Well, back then in '98, we made a film about a guy

-who actually suffered from physical assault from his father.

-Yes.

And this time, the case is the opposite.

He's a guy being accused for something he didn't do.

Stylistically, as well thematically, the films are very different.

Festen is made according to the Dogme Manifesto,

this has a much more traditional look about it.

Do you look at the Dogme Manifesto as still having any relevance

or was it actually an elaborate joke?

Oh, it was never a joke.

It was arrogant, it was playful,

it was self-absorbed, it was vain or whatever you can say.

-But it was never a joke. It was heartfelt.

-Yeah.

We meant it very serious.

And it was meant to be a riot against the conventions of filming.

But, hey, Dogme was... It was a fantastic time.

-But you have to renew yourself.

-Yeah.

-You have to be on thin ice.

How did you approach dealing with the very young actor in the film?

At the centre of it is a very young actor who plays Klara,

and she's dealing with very difficult subject matter.

How did you protect her from the edgy elements of that?

Well, the film itself is slightly a comment

-on overprotection of children, the victimisation of children.

-Yeah.

So we, we talked to the parents about this

and, obviously, she is... she's seven years old,

or she was seven years old at the time.

So she doesn't understand sexuality, and should not.

But we told her pretty much everything.

She needed to know why they all got so angry at her.

And then, she went to play with her dolls and do her ping-pong.

And she wasn't really bothered,

so that was a fine and healthy process.

You grew up in a commune.

Tell me about that and what effect that's had on your vision as a film-maker?

-Well, everyone sees a different film when they see a film.

-Yeah.

And I, the most important thing I see,

what I'm getting involved with emotionally when I see The Hunt,

is the loss of innocence.

And, for me, it's kind of a nostalgic description

of what happened over my life since the '70s.

I grew up, as you say, in a commune,

amongst genitals and happy people.

And, you know what, back then, a teacher could hug a child

if she was crying or he was crying.

And it was no problem.

And we lost that, we lost some of all this.

I know there's a good reason, I know that kids are being assaulted.

But we lost our innocence, I guess, over the years.

And I feel a little sad about that.

HE SIGHS

Did you feel able to make Jagten, having already done Festen?

Saying, "Look, I have acknowledged the reality of child abuse,

therefore, I have, you know, I have kind of earned the right

to look at the other side of the story.

Yes, I've... I do acknowledge and we all know that this exists.

I mean, you have a case on BBC

and there's many cases all over the place of kids actually being abused.

Yes.

-But I have made that film.

-Yeah.

And I've being part of this, of throwing light on that in the '90s.

Now, this new film throws light on another kind of victim.

-And even another kind of child victim also.

-Yeah.

She's now just suffering another kind of violation

-from the overprotective society.

-Yeah.

And that, of course, is interesting and very problematic.

And we have to talk about that.

-Thomas, thank you very much.

-Thank you.

That's almost all for tonight, but if you want more culture, go to...

Finally, to play us out, The Culture Show goes Gangnam Style.

When Chinese dissident artist Ai Weiwei's satirical take

on the YouTube sensation went online,

the Chinese Government shut it down.

Last week, British artist Anish Kapoor made his own version

in support of Ai Weiwei and we've got an exclusive sneak preview.

Good night.

MUSIC: Gangnam Style by PSY

HE MIMES

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd