First We Turn Away from Democracy, Then We Turn On Ourselves

The reportage and images from Wolverhampton City Council over the recent past have caused sadness, disbelief and in many cases anger. As is often the case when we're being asked to accept the unacceptable, there's a temptation to go straight to "blame" without touching "understand."
Some of the comments made under the general heading of "angry/blame" have made hard reading. Hard because correspondents and contributors have too often done one or a combination of:

• Blaming councillors because they have "huge expenses"
• Too many Chiefs and not ......
• Mad-cap schemes/Pet projects
• Money spent on useless things like needy groups/translation services
• Money spent on useful things like museums and libraries
• Failure to "grasp the nettle"

Some observations have been truly scalding, criticising the very existence of services who reach out to the weaker and marginalised members of our society. Others have mocked the notion that a museum should be funded from within the Council budget, stating that those who want to use it should pay for it.

 There's something missing: the principle of municipality, the concept of describing the kind of City that's wanted and to capture its meaningfulness to those who live and work there and would want their families to do the same.
The polarised and unhelpful clichés, that only the Tories can manage the budget and it is only Labour that will protect services are demonstrably untrue and distort a more pressing truth: local government, democracy and engagement are apparently held in contempt by Westminster as it relegates the provision of services that build an inclusive society to the level of the parish pump.
Social cohesion is always tested during difficult times and the positive contributory elements of belonging to and caring about your area, town, city have synergy and are powerful. They are well worth nurturing. The wrong questions are perhaps deliberately and confusingly, being asked of us: all too often there appears to be a pre-prescribed answer. Yet the question, "What do you want your City to look like and be like and what would you like it citizens to be able to achieve?" is never asked in a meaningful way. For me it is one that prompts a dialogue of potentially irresistible power and potential.
It's Easter now: a powerfully symbolic time of the year: I wonder what renewal is possible and what we would seek to resurrect from the bold days of high order municipal commitment and thinking? I wonder what will be left, impoverished and weakened to a point of incapacity?

"I Have A Feeling We're Not in Kansas Any more"

There's something powerful about this time of year. Loss, pain and renewal are never too far away from an internal dialogue that cuts across faith, belief and religion, hopefully re-emphasising something we all know and might not quite understand: that we are part of something bigger. Just how big can be a surprise.
I found out earlier this year that the excellent Red Shoes  http://www.redshoes-music.com/ were due to play at Birmingham's Symphony Hall "Folk for Free" event on the 17th of April.

And here they are sound-checking the set, looking out over Birmingham's Centenary Square. I found out on arrival that this was to be the last one in a series of Folk for Free events that have been held in the reception area.
As the reception area filled the growing audience used the upper tiers to see and hear what turned out to be heart jolting event. The sound check was better than some gigs I've attended and as it tool place old acquaintances were being renewed and people were connecting and smiling and anticipating.
The band honoured the special nature of the event, the last of its kind and I'm guessing, a casualty of what are blandly labelled as "spending cuts". They honoured it because they are exceptionally talented, unfailingly gracious and ever so "unaffected" by their talent teaming socially accessible and fun to be with. And then they play and sing.

.....and something transcendent happens. I looked around the auditorium as the band weaved a collective narrative of powerful imagery, strong emotions and music so technically well crafted it is neither the portrait or the frame of a beautiful sound picture

I watched casual observers become enthralled and felt the unmistakable "vibe" of an audience willing the band on to give them more. Unobtrusive percussion, a violin that has a breath of its own and an always "oh so appropriate" input from two skilled and gifted guitarists who work off each other seamlessly.

Applause didn't happen: it burst! The Red Shoes songs touch painful places, challenge the assumed right of the privileged to ride (sic) over the law of the land and so doing hold an engaged audience in a very special place throughout.
Their encore was a unique event: an ending not only to a great set but a great idea, that music and meeting people are one and the same thing and that this should be allowed and encouraged to happen producing a healing and renewing balm in an increasingly disjointed and fractured society. Without stretching the  Easter metaphor too far, I hope a resurrection of a great idea isn't too far away and wouldn't it be great if Red Shoes could open the next incarnation.