Art is For One; Art is For All

2010-02-02T12:40:00.008+01:00

A Comedy Monologue by Katy Coxall

Art is For One; Art is For All has been performed as a spoof speech at various events including Women in Film and Television's Christmas party and a Rotary Club breakfast meeting. It has been seen on stage on numerous occasions. Actors Paul Magson and David Perks (currently appearing as Barry Norman Biglow on BBC daytime drama Doctors) have played Theodore Parker Bowles.

At the beginning of the monologue Theodore is outrageous but relatively meek but by its end he has evolved to reveal his true Hitler-like personality.

The character Theodore Parker Bowles is based on a real person.

Theodore Parker-Bowles: “Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Good evening, especially, to those of you who shun such gendered labels. It is no secret, I am particularly delighted to note your presence here this evening. Indeed.

You are an invited audience, one in front of which I can express myself freely. Talk turkey. No need to dumb down in front of your elite personages. You’re thoroughly unable to get the wrong end of the stick, so to speak. You won’t go erroneously complaining to the press or, for that matter, telephoning radio shows. May I thank you for attending this evening and assure you that your place is guaranteed in my special Arts ring.

I am Theodore Parter-Bowles, czar of arts rejuvenation and regeneration (Re Re) in Birmingham – the UK’s second city unfortunately ranked twelfth. It is with me that the Arts buck stops. I, me, me, I – the one fully laden with the task of enticing greater numbers to Arts events in this, our astonishing city, a.k.a. B. B. B., Birmingham Beyond Belief.

My talk this evening has been designed to give you a flavour of the campaign I am operating during my seven-year tenure of Re Re in B. B. B. The campaign subtly entitled: Art is for One; Art is for All!

Why is Art for One and All?

Does this question really need answering? We, after all, know the answer instinctively. Those of us who were privileged to see Damien Damnation insert sharpened razor blades into his torso’s flesh and paint with the resulting burgeoning blood the words “ecstasy” and “plum” onto his piss-primed canvas. We know instinctively. Those of us who saw, nay experienced the alternative flatfoot ballet choreographed by Nigela de Shackley, which, incidentally, featured my favourite dance so far this year: Cod Piece – A View from Within - we know instinctively. Those who saw, nay, became the multi-media Stench City featuring Gita Screta’s haunting non-melodies – we know instinctively.

I see some of your faces here tonight. Why is Art for One and All? We know the answer even if our words, being too crude a medium, fail to convey it. Because Art serenades our creed, emblazons our attributes, lays everything bare. Art is a portal through which everyone is entitled to glance; into which anyone can insert their finger. Finger my portal!

Why and How do we Entice People to Come and See Live Arts? How do we Re Re arts in B. B. B?

Put another way, how do we encourage people to stick their fingers into my Arts Portal? I’m not a fairy. I can’t wave a magic wand and “hey presto” large audiences arrive. We need strategies to target the humdrum, hoi polloi. The plebeian people of Birmingham, the P. P. of B. B. B., are a necessary addition if we want our budgets increased. We need our budgets increased. Unfortunately we need the PP of BBB. We therefore need tactics to get them away from their soap operas, beer and chips. Away from their 2.4 children, from their sad missionary sex lives, their attempts at Home Front in the Garden and, God forbid, “their art”. Tactics which educate, stimulate and elevate them from hovel to theatre. We need to Favour the Arts Retarded Targets. We need to F – A – R – T!

How do we F – A – R – T? No, I can’t wave a magic wand. But I can, I will, I do, for example, promenade down New Street attired in my specially commissioned shimmering pink latex corset and posing pouch hoisting a placard demanding attention for my Arts. The results have been truly amazing. Last week, the audience for Cruella’s Curtsey – a bold piece combining body painting with grumpy belly dancing – was swelled by some several culture virgins. Cynics, of course, said that the seven were there solely to redeem their interval drinks vouchers. Yes, we do hand out these vouchers but I cannot accept this skeptical attitude. Neither should you. As part of my funded après show mingling I actually spoke to the virgins and despite the fact that I could not understand them fully, what with their thick accents and dismal diction, so typical of the problems we face, I believe that the virgins were glad to come. One young man in particular couldn’t wait to tell his friends about us. Word of mouth is such a precious commodity. We have mastered viral marketing. The young man I refer to was overwhelmed, indeed could scarcley contain himself, by the conclusion to Cruella’s Curtsey: The finished artwork! The vivid red bosom prints, irregularly spaced on their electric blue background implanted by means of girding gyration. I imagine the prints we will sell will bring art to many a city bedsit.

And so. With what do we F – A – R – T? And How Big is our F – A – R – T?

Thanks to the fund raising wizardry of Richard Head, my assistant co-director at Re Re BBB, we now

have the means to invest in further publicity escapades. Thus Re Re in BBB F – A – R – T s with Arts Council Funding. What is more European funding promises to let us F – A – R – T some more. Also thanks to Dick Head monies once ring fenced for the utterly drab Birmingham Super-Prix, then conveniently forgotten, shall now be redirected to F – A – R – T. F – A – R – T is big . . . F – A – R – T is getting bigger.

To this end, Dick and I working closely in tandem have put together the Sensitive Monitoring of Egalitarian Gain – aka S – M – E – G. S – M – E – G, our scientific device for measuring the uptake of Arts awareness among Birmingham plebeians is based on the daily telephone monitoring of some 250 plebs. We are able to fund an office of nine executives devoted to S – M – E – G on a full time basis. Of course this area of operations has been located in London. Why London and not Birmingham? Several reasons. Obviously the calibre of telephone marketers in Birmingham is not up to the required standard. Also, although a Birmingham operation would be cheaper, a lot cheaper, the Birmingham executive would not, quite frankly, attain that note of authority which efficient plebeians’ handling calls for.

Where to Now?

Clearly I have been unable to give full assessment of all “Arts is for One, Art is for All” manoeuvrings. The confidential nature of some elements of what Dick and I do in our office cannot be fully disclosed. I sincerely hope however that I have given a taste of our Arts vision.

I leave you with an additional thought. Actually, more a nightmare scenario: what if people of our calibre devoided the Arts of our input? Arts without intellectual input! How would the Arts function under such a regime? I will tell you. Arts without thought provoking content. Theatre from the perspective of ordinary people. Pub theatre and its like. Damien Damnation, Nigela de Shackley, Gita Screta et al unfulfilled. Yes there would be more toilets and readily available interval drinks, but what of our important projects? Projects like Lullaby of Hieronymous Bosch; Elvis: Toilet Requiem; Smacking Simeon. Flushed down the Plebeian pan, what of them indeed?

I have a dream. A dream to replace this nightmare. Enforced Arts attendance. Enforced after-show debate. The education of the pleb by means of the Arts. Not only would it give them better diction and delivery, revamp their crude accents – but imagine our enhanced status, our increased importance. Imagine our additional funding! It would be wholly appropriate. We would officially dictate good taste. At last, enforce the removal of their shabby net curtains.

We have the opportunity to ignite this dream. The city once responsible for the industrial revolution would be equally responsible for our Arts revolution. In years to come, Birmingham, England would be saluted for its F – A – R – T and its S – M – E – G. The S – M – E – G that oiled the F – A – R – T that lit the touch-paper of the Arts – our Arts uprising!

[Recovering] As ever, I thank you for your continuing support. I look forward with relish to hearing your comments and ideas over drinks, funded of course by the Arts Council of England and cocktails by S – M – E – G".

Don't forget, to visit Wilma Proops Comedy Problem Page

THE BAKER ~ Excerpt from a Comedy Monologue

2007-05-28T21:15:00.002+02:00

This seems to be doing well on the website - a comedy monologue about a none too hygeinic baker.

FRED THE BAKER: “Wallop! I fell for her round at the club one night. She came third in the karaoke, danced a Cha Cha Char and went on to win the yard of ale competition. Glugged two and a half pints - sub eleven seconds. Class!

Sexy! Strong voice. Came from yelling at her kids. Gets them out of her house so we can do the business. I can go like a train! Choo choo, mmm, chew.

She sung In the Jungle. [SUGGESTIVELY MIMICING HIS GIRLFRIEND’S VOICE] “It were done by Tight Fit”, [HE'S SLOBBERING WHEN HE SAYS THIS] mmmm sexy. . . were the first words she ever spoke to me.

I love to hear her talk dirty. Admit it, real men do. Half way through the song she fell into the band and I copped a load of her knickers. Encased her buttocks like a pork pie crust does its jelly.

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Art is For One; Art is For All

THE BAKER ~ Excerpt from a Comedy Monologue