Saturday 31 May 2014

WELCOME


http://pippa-rathborne-actress.blogspot.com/

Inspired by her talented and courageous parents, Pippa Rathborne
never thought of being anything but an actor. She has worked in theatre, TV and film since she was 22. She has a wide dramatic and light comedic range in both contemporary and classical texts. Born and based in London, she has toured the United Kingdom, and also worked in Europe and Hong Kong, in everything from modern English classics and Shakespeare to improvised comedy and murder mysteries. She is also an experienced role-player for legal and medical training courses.

PORTFOLIO, CV & CONTACT on
  


posts on history, daily life, art, theatre, film, culture

Hamburg 2010

London 2012
Cannes 2009
Hamburg 2010

Calico

rebegot of darknessPlease don't ask me how I feel.
In the garden of how I feel
nothing grows
but tears and sighs and bitter aloes.
I cannot speak my sorrow:
it swells inside me, fungating tumour,
choking words and ulcerating thoughts.

In the garden of how I feel,
there is no light; sunken corner
of mind's eye
diseased, where knotted stems writhe and mould,
mandrakes scream, torn out of earth,
and the angry rustling of ivy leaves
sirens that rats are tunnelling through.

It’s their garden now; dead ones stink
where lily and rose used to be.
Memory
by violence of absence mutates,
past and present are displaced -
love severed, nothing looks nor feels the same
that once was seen and felt by her, too.

enchantedPlease don’t tell me, then, to “move on”-
raw amputee crawling towards
a closed door.
Let me journey in catacombed mind
to resurrect the garden,
replant her flowers, released,
in sweet disorder, out of stone and clay,
ancient art of heartbreak colours mixed;

rare slender straight-backed gallantry,
supple as swaying summer stems;
make-believe
like her the most while having little -
her calico mystery -
I see her - quick - she’s climbed the tree again -
she stands, laughing in the dappled light.

Sunday 25 May 2014

cutting edge of fashion

Nothing becomes a rich person so ill as telling a poor one that money can't buy happiness, but I sympathize with them that it doesn't always buy beauty or good taste.  Looking at the clothes in Harvey Nichols the other day, for the first time in seven years, I have never seen so much I didn't want.* It is consoling to know that you can dress just as sluttily or frumpily from the local mall as you can from Knightsbridge.

But where is exquisite wearable art to be found in London today if it's not in "premier luxury retail"? It doesn't matter that the prices are out of my reach - the famous department stores have the power to inspire us all by showcasing the best, not dumb fashion down. Capitalism is failing in its moral justification to broker beauty. Producing and buying expensive stuff for the sake of its cost alone is not enough; wealth is not its own reward.

 Jean-Francois Janinet, Marie Antoinette, a print after Jean-Baptiste-AndrĂ© Gautier-Dagoty
France, 1777. Mixed method colour print on two sheets of paper. © Trustees of the British Museum

Good taste and beauty are not always the same thing, of course. One implies reason, order, restraint - the other can be terrifying....