The Horrible History of Chippenham

They’re not show offs at the Neeld Community and Arts Centre in Chippenham, they’re show-ons!

They’ve certainly booked a huge variety of class acts akin to city status, and through 2018 they intend to continue.

A tribute to classic blues-rock is forthcoming with Voodoo Room, but from Nicolas Parsons’ sold out stand-up to a Big Fish Little Fish family rave, no one can argue variety is the key to Neeld’s ethos; and  that’s just next month!

I’m personally “well up” for April 16th when legendary R&B mod Georgie Fame will steal the thunder. But as an example of the variety on offer here I’d like to draw your attention to the Horrible Histories Show on 3rd June. If you’re asking why I’m drawing your attention to it, you’ve obviously not sat and read the amazing books or watched the awesome CBBC programs with your kids.


It’s ingeniously written, with gruesome facts and highly amusing sketches. My only complaint is jealousy, that history was never this fun in my school days. If just one of my teachers could’ve come anywhere near as entertaining as this, I might have stopped staring at Tracey Slater’s legs all lesson and paid attention.

The show, subtitled, “more best of barmy Britain,” is written by Terry Deary and Neal Foster, and produced by the Birmingham Stage Company. Deary, the world’s bestselling non-fiction children’s author, has 200 books under his belt, translated into 40 languages. His 50 Horrible Histories titles sold over 25 million copies worldwide from China to Brazil.

Currently celebrating their 25th anniversary, the Birmingham Stage Company is one of the world’s top family orientated theatre companies. As well as a dozen years of Horrible Histories shows, they’re known for Roald Dahl’s George’s Marvellous Medicine and David Walliams’ productions, Awful Auntie and Gangsta Granny.

This could be an event for the history books itself! The blurb runs like this: “We all want to meet people from history. The trouble is everyone is dead!

So it’s time to prepare yourselves for a special one-hour production of Horrible Histories featuring MORE of your favourite characters from our barmy past! This brand new compilation show has never toured before and includes a special new scene featuring wordy Will Shakespeare!

Find out why the Romans were revolting! Could you survive the vicious Vikings? Can evil Elizabeth entertain England? Would you party with the Puritans? Clap along with crazy King Charles! Vomit with the vile Victorians and prepare to do battle in the frightful First World War!

It’s history with the nasty bits left in!”

Sandie Webber of Chippenham Town Council said, “I have my ticket booked already. What better place for Horrible Histories than the town of Chippenham where Arthur had his Palace in those days so beloved of Horrible Histories author Terry Deary? Not so much revolting as riveting.”

Adult ticket are £17 and you know you’re going to have just as much fun as the children, who’s tickets are £13.50.



No Surprises Living in Devizes: Aesthetic or Artistic; similar thing isn’t it?

I was four in 1977, the year of the Silver Jubilee. I recall a tonnage of bunting at our local recreation ground, though it’s vague. One sentiment glued in my head is frustration, with my parents the following morning.

I’d been given a silver spoon with the crest of the jubilee, they were of the opinion it was something to treasure, to keep in mint condition, as one day, I was told, it’d be worth a fortune. I disagreed; sure was a lovely spoon, made sense to me it should have the honour of being used to eat my Coco Pops with.

I snivelled in our kitchen; mum, adamant I wasn’t going to use it to eat my cereal, finally caved, telling me the spoon would be ruined and I’d be sorry when I grew up. I did use the spoon, and continued to use it right into my mid-twenties, when the crest was long gone and it rusted to a state of disrepair.

It was futile to expect a four-year-old to comprehend sentimental value, but till this day I’m not materialistic, I’d sooner something be functional than retaining it for visual nostalgia. When studying art history I focussed on tribal art as they put design into their tools, as nomadic it’s pointless to carry unnecessary items for their aesthetical value.

Dating from the Norman era, the Church of St Mary the Virgin in New Park Street is one of the most important buildings in Devizes; it’s Grade 1 listed, amongst the top 2.5% of listed buildings in the country and it’s tower a landmark in town, but no longer in use as a church.

A Conservation Management Plan was produced four years ago at the request of the Salisbury Diocese and passed to a number of consultees; the Diocesan Advisory Board, Wiltshire Development (Planning & Conservation,) Historic England, The Church Building Council, Devizes Town Council and Trust For Devizes.

The St Mary Trust formed a vision, to transform the historic church into a vibrant building for the arts. It’s been a battleground since, initially turned down by Wiltshire Council, appealed, and turned down more times than the dweeb in the first year asking out Tracey Slater, the fittest chick in sixth form.

st maryslogo

The grounds for their decision; WC planning officer, Mike Wilmott said, “This is a contemporary addition to a very old building. This will make substantial harm to the setting of this building,” and accused the group of blackmail, which, with all due respect, sounds to me like a crock of shit.

Nobody’s proposing holding a Special Brew anarchist’s sadomasochist brawl, or asking West Ham and Milwall fans to settle their differences with a monster truck rally. It’s just a few mild-mannered Devizions wanting space to perform some music and theatre.

By my reckoning, the modern regime we burden under despises funding arts. They’d rather we wake, work, be content watching Homes under the Hammer, sleep and repeat.

There’s a meeting to be held at 7.30pm on February 1 at the church, chaired by St Marys Future Group.  The churchwarden, Tony Storer explained to the Gazette, “The purpose is to review what has happened over the past two years, including a presentation outlining the Conservation Management Plan, developed with advice from the Salisbury Diocese.”

In the uncertainty, I hope the meeting doesn’t conclude that anything is better than being left redundant and the church gets used for something-or-other, like, I dunno, selling off for an antiques shop disguised by a fancy name, or slapping up two-thousand shoebox sized flats, just for the sake of it. I wouldn’t have eaten any old, budget-range chocolate rice pops with my jubilee spoon, had to be Coco-Pops.

An art gallery, café, charity base, use by another congregation, craft workshop, theatre, and a drop-in centre are all decent suggestions. After permitted TITCO performances, such as the brilliant and apt Sister Act, it’s clear, acoustically and functionally, St Marys would make an awesome arts centre, which would need a café for intervals, and when no performances are happening, it’d be perfect for all the other suggestions; hey, a multi-purpose arts centre, why not?

st marys2

A similar pursuit for an Arts Centre in Calne is under discussion, using the Grove building. Town councillor Terry Couchman informed me he’s “desperate to get some individual and group outline proposals of how they would like to use the Grove. Without these brief declarations and interest it’s going to be a tough fight with Wiltshire Council.”

I pondered with Terry, after explaining about St Marys; “I wonder if they’ll try similar on the Grove, although it’s not an old church?”

“They want to sell it for building,” he sighed, “to the highest bidder.” Why doesn’t this surprise me? Again, there’s a Town Council Meeting in Calne on 5th Feb, see the Calne in Tune Project Facebook page.


The Rev Canon Paul Richardson, St Mary’s Rector said it all, without adding things about monster truck rallies like me; “Without development of St Mary’s Church for community use it will be closed, and its future conservation is by no means secure. There is no harm to the building; there is minimum impact on its setting and the conservation area. There is a clearly identified and acknowledged public need that outweighs that minimum impact.”

Unless WC can see logic, like my rusted, worthless spoon, St Marys and the Grove will be hidden away, considered too aesthetically pleasing to be functional for art, which is kinda the same thing isn’t it? So come on Wiltshire Council, as we see our amenities fast diminishing, such as the hub of Brickstead and Eastleigh Rd, The Cavalier, isn’t it about time to bring something fresh to these market towns?

If I’d only kept the spoon, I’d bop them on the nose with it. I Googled it, you can buy a mint one on eBay for £1:99; worthless now, there wasn’t a need to treasure it, just saying.

St Mary’s Trust st maryslogo

Future Use Seminar 1st Feb @ St Marys, Devizes


Unrest on Wine Street

In the mid-nineties Pewsey received a refreshing alternative to the predominately techno scene when it gained a resident Jamaican keen to put on welcomed reggae nights. To this day organiser Knati continues to host sound system events from Calne to Marlborough.

I’m reckoning it was 2006 when I approached him, asking if he’d like a flyer designed, stupidly, what I didn’t know at the time; he’s also Clifton Powell, a highly accomplished artist!


Clifton studied at The Jamaica School of Art, Kingston, before moving to London in the late eighties. After a stay in Bath he found his way to sleepy Wiltshire where he settled. I picked up on his sublime paintings at The Bluestone Gallery in Swan Yard, Devizes; an awesome emporium chockful of a wide variety of art, mostly locally sourced.

Prior to his forthcoming exhibition “Unrest,” at the gorgeous Wine Street Gallery over on Hopton, opening on 1st March and running until the 24th, I was invited to his rural retreat, which he deems his “yard,” to meet him, and a Labrador I recognised from Clifton’s portrait, who escorted me up the track.

Over a cuppa we discussed the range of his work. While acrylic on canvas is his favoured medium, and his style traditional realism, the range of subjects is vast and avant-garde, usually allocated to a series. Clifton, answering my question on other mediums, expressed although he had experimented, he was at home with acrylic or oil on canvas.

I was keen to ask if Wine Street’s show was confined to his shadier depictions of civil unrest and revolution, or if works of other subjects would be displayed.

It seems while the “Unrest” series will be the focal point, these other themes will also be displayed, bringing all the diversity he feels it obligatory to explore to the exhibit. Clifton is a highly accomplished, versatile painter and prolific, working on a piece when I arrived. With expressive fluid draughtsmanship he combines dynamic use of colour with confident brushwork to create gentle and realistic images; throughout his house I sauntered in awe.



Influenced by places travelled and the people he met, scenes and still life adorn every wall, many of Wiltshire’s countryside and wildlife, others include an astounding series of African landscapes and portraits, akin to Gauguin. But while many themes conventional, I was taken by the portrait “Barbados,” in Bluestone, explaining to Knati by the title I’d have preconceived brightness and buoyancy. However the painting is of a tired local with head-in-hands upon a black background, it’s shadowy, evocative. Knati laughed, enlightening night in Barbados is exceptionally dark and the character has been overworked.


It’s this contraction which has produced “Unrest,” the exciting series featuring at Wine Street; there are obscure backdrops of turbulence, active characters caught up in fogged scenes of, what I perceived as a riot, faces veiled by V or gasmasks, and ambiguous dark portrayals of a time Clifton views as present.

In contrast we paused on a breathtakingly realistic image of a robin, I noted it’s something my mother would love, and he told me a personal story of why he’d never part with it. This diversity is his motivation, a freedom to paint subjects at will, commission based or not, and something which makes Clifton’s art surprising and never dull.


Clifton’s past exhibitions include The International Art Exhibition at St Martin’s school of Art in London, as well as in Stroud, and The House of Emperor Haile Selassie in Bath; the Ethiopian king and divinity of Rastafari having stayed there in exile. Clifton has had his work alongside Paul Goodnight and many established black artists.

It was keenly noted by social media comments that Clifton is also an inspired teacher, volunteering with the Arts Together charity, which works to improve the health, well-being and quality of life of older people through a range of participatory arts projects.


Throughout our tête-à-tête Clifton never talked in tongues or attempted to baffle about what any painting represented, the pictures speak for themselves, and all that shone through was his dynamic and amiable personality. You need make up your own mind by viewing his work at the Wine Street Gallery, and if you’ve never been there before, this is the ideal opportunity.

So, there’s a private view, Thursday 1st March, from 6-9 PM, and the exhibit continues Saturday 2nd, until Saturday 24th March 2018, at Wine St. Gallery @ No 10, Unit 10, White Horse Business Centre, Hopton Road, Devizes, Wilts, SN10 2HJ Contact Dawn Galbraith Tel: 07852 945598, email:

Facebook Event Page here.

Those Beers Won’t Drink Themselves!

The Devizes Festival of Winter Ales does what it says on the tankard, but it isn’t just about drinking Kennet and Avon Brewery winter ales and ciders in the cosy Corn Exchange.

Now I’m not talking about this year’s warming musical performances by Rob Lear and the Drystones, or even, dare I say it, the chance to catch Rod Laver’s vaudevillian ping-pong mouth juggling, which might be worth the price-tag itself.


No, you see, the festival is a fundraising event for DOCA, The Devizes Outdoor Celebratory Arts, and we all love the many free events they put on in our town, like the Devizes International Street Festival, Devizes Carnival and the Christmas Lantern Parade.

The Festival of Winter Ales helps DOCA meet the costs of their outstanding programme, which costs thousands to create. Think of all those fireworks last Christmas, the brilliant bands at the street festival or at Hillworth Park; all wracks up you know. We owe it to DOCA to drink some ale and cider, which can be no bad thing!


Those beers won’t drink themselves, so show your support if you can; on the evening of Friday 23rd February, from 4 – 11pm, or Saturday 24th February when the afternoon runs from 11 – 5pm, and evening from 5.30 – 11pm.

Tickets are available for three sessions over the two days, and can be purchased online here: or in person at Devizes Books, The British Lion, The Vaults and the Wadworth’s Visitor Centre. Over 18’s only though you understand.


Wave your nappy in the air like you don’t care!

Halfway up a mountain in Andalusia, early noughties; I spot admist the crowd of mad ravers in a tranced frenzy, a distressed toddler crying, and perpetually calling out “mama!”

Rave culture was never just about popping out to a club to wave your arms in the air, and hug complete strangers on a Friday night, it was a way of life. A way of life which had engulfed me at this point, with a good fifteen years under my belt.

I’d done that, got the T-shirt and worn it out. So-much-so, no matter what my state of mind, I was capable of finding moral standing. I jumped to my feet from where we were “chilling” to assist in a way I wasn’t quite sure of, I just knew I couldn’t sit there and watch the child in meltdown.

A hand on my shoulder stopped me, a trusty friend advised me not to get involved. She was right, the mum could be anywhere in this humongous techno fiesta,  probably didn’t speak English and, what is more, would be too “off her face” to be concerned.

Heartbroken I tore myself away from the sight, consoled myself there was little I could’ve done.

As much as I loved free party raving, I have to admit it’s probably not the best environment for a toddler. It’d take a strong mentality to withhold parental responsibility when all about you is hedonism and mayhem.

There then is the plight of the last great youth culture, like all previous trends, we grew up, we had kids and now the fragments of that once proud scene consist of the odd occasion where you perchance to hire a babysitter but spend most of your time reminiscing about your car breaking down at  Castlemorton with some delinquent dribbling clubber, or such like fable, Uncle Albert style.


However, the times are a changin’  you soppy old ruffneck ting, and there’s a growing fad sweeping the nation which allows the hardcore massive turned mom or dad to shove their, let’s face it, mostly harmless ways of misspent youth down the throat of their impressionable nipper; and why not?!

Raver Tots host “family raves” where kids and grownups can hit the dance floor together.

The kids, and I’m gathering parents too, are supplied with endless entertainment; face painting, UV lights, bubbles, balloons, confetti and giant parachutes, all in a rave style atmosphere.


They book some of the UK’s top DJ’s  of yore including residents Artful Dodger, Brandon Block, Slipmatt & Nicky Blackmarket, attracting up to 1,500 people.

Rave Tots events have proved successful, selling out up to 3 months in advance.

Closest to here is one on the 4th February at the Bath Pavilion with Nicky Blackmarket playing classic drum ‘n’ bass with MC Chalky. And 8th April at Swindon’s Mecca with DJ Slipmatt.

Founded by Mike Pickets in 2017, Raver Tots has an ongoing charitable interest and supports an array of charities that help children with Autism and ADHD.

They advise ear defenders can be worn although the music is kept to safe levels and club lights are in “rave style” but no strobe lights are used. A maximum of three adults are permitted per child but you can’t get in without a child, insuring this is a totally family atmosphere.

What a brilliant idea, I salute the organisers of Raver Tots and I’m pleased to see just because rave has come of age, there’s acceptable outlets keeping the vibe alive in their own, individual way, keen to note though,  this isn’t completely unique, Bestival innovating family festival vibes since 2004.

Bestival increased this ethos by hosting spin-off club events of a similar nature called “big fish, little fish family raves,” and they’re at the Neeld Community Centre in Chippenham on the 10th March.


They describe the events as being, “designed as much for grown ups as for children; daft, social, anarchic and a whole load of fun for everyone together.” Which is, in a nutshell, what rave was all about to begin with!

Bath Pavillion 4th Feb:

Neeld, Chippenham 10th March:

Swindon Mecca 8th April

EH raise price to visit Stonehenge


EH announced entry price to Stonehenge is set to rise in April from £16:50 to £19:50 per adult, and from £40:70 to £50:90 for families.

I find myself wondering how much of this is for the upkeep of the monument and how much is pure profit, or to make inadequate new infrastructure alterations, or even, dare I say it, to fund a security company who many have complained about their heavy-handed attics and rude responses to visitors.

It also questions, just how much are people willing to pay to see Wiltshire’s primary internationally renowned wonder, and how these prices, which already seem extreme, affect smaller local businesses relying on tourism?

Already disgruntled with new rules regarding solstice celebrations at the site, and the charges for parking on these scared days, Pagan High Preist, Arthur Uther Pendragon opened a government petition, stating EH are “not fit to manage” Stonehenge.

“Since splitting with Historic England,” the campaign says, “English Heritage has commercialized Stonehenge to the extreme introducing a ‘Pay to Pray’ Policy at Solstices and priced Tourism out of reach for the General Public to whom it was left, and supported unsuitable road improvements in the World Heritage site.”

“They have rejected the advice and concerns of UNESCO, Senior Archaeologists, Historians, Druids, and Environmentalists. This shows they are not fit to manage the ‘Jewel in the Crown’ of a World Heritage site.”

Please sign this petition here:




No Surprises Living in Devizes: Christmas has Bin and Gone

Christmas has been and gone, oodles of excessive packaging, bounded by gift-wrap, collate with ceaseless magnitudes of biscuits or mince pie boxes, and a massif of void tins and bottles, a testament to an enjoyable few days of merriment.

Now it’s the renowned month of misery, as dark as a heart-to-heart about Morrissey’s downturn with a flu-ridden goth. Yet you choose to read my causerie as if it’s going to help; oh my years. Take the bins out; far more entertaining.

I love being environmentally friendly, love the fact we’ve gone from sturdy metal bins that’d have lasted a hundred years to lightweight plastic ones which will luckily last five; sense in that?

Risking a rupture, I raise my right leg and pull myself into our recycling wheelie-bin, joining the foresaid rubbish mountain. Like a grape-crushing winemaker I stomp, squashing contents down. I lose a slipper, ones my daughter bought me too.

Now, at a lower level inside the bin, comes the finale of my party trick; amidst yogurt pots and milk cartons, I must locate the lost slipper with toes, slip it back on, then cock my leg like a ballerina at the Vienna State Opera and attempt to clamber out, distributing my weight to avoid it tipping and wriggling raised feet to avoid slippers making another break for it; opps, nearly dropped me fag.

Even compressed and refilled it’s still as light as a feather. So light in fact, that my efforts are wasted because, like everyone else in our town, I’ve failed to take heed of the Council’s yuletide collection modifications, mimicking the neighbour’s behaviour for assembling their rubbish for collection despite knowing they’ve no more clue than I. Consequently, it’s the wrong day.

Hello, it is winter; as if a force ten hurricane was unexpected. It sweeps my bin, your bin, and everyone else’s bin along the street, rocking them, tipping them, spewing rubbish into bushes and trees as they journey, littering our once green and pleasant land. If anyone wanted to remake the Dr Who episode “Attack of the Mutant Wheelie Bins,” (classic Tom Baker) they missed an ideal opportunity for filming.

Yes, I love being environmentally friendly. Guilt-ridden I pursue Fruit Shoot bottles down the street, recalling my childhood when the bin-man opened your gate, walked up your back garden path whistling a ditty, tipped his hat, threw your hefty bin over his shoulder, causally made his way to tip it in the truck and returned it back to your garden, still smiling.

No good being nostalgic, life cannot be like this anymore, we have to adhere to health and safety, have to consider there’s too many houses and not nearly enough bin-men, (sorry, refuse collection operatives)  and if we employ more, our council tax would skyrocket.

Like the days police would arrive at traffic jams to direct vehicles, or the post arrived in the morning, these are memories as unattainably returnable as Michael Jackson being the epiphany of cool.

So, someone sulked, “I used to tip the bin-men, I don’t anymore,” as if it’s their fault. “Oi; Refuse Collection Operative; put that Christmas cracker down, swallow your last mouthful of turkey, kiss the nippers bye, get your flipping boots on and pick up my crap before the storm blows it over the downs….oh, and merry Christmas to you too.”

No one blames the toy companies who outsourced production to a sweatshop in some far-flung country, meaning products need to be endlessly bounded with plastic ties, gurt chunks of polystyrene and masses of uncalled-for packaging.

No one blames the media, stirring commercial frenzy in our feeble minds, telling us what we need to buy, how much we need to bestow to our loved ones so they know we love them.

No one blames manufacturing, blasé with exploring and funding innovative concepts in organic packaging in favour of keeping costs low. If you funded them, they’d be standard and costs will drop; idiots.

No one blames politicians, many of whom hell-bent on denying there’s an issue with the environment, convinced it’s a hoax, and only push greener originations to stop a few fuddy-duddy hippies from whinging.  No worries, just shut up, munch your mini eclairs and throw the plastic wrapping into the impending wrath of climate change; some future generation’s problem.

Scientists predict a mini-ice age by 2030, yeah what do they know; they’re only scientists and, obviously, full of it? I can’t wrap my head around this ridiculous climate change conspiracy theory. Please tell me no one in Tory-Town Devizes believes this foolish fundamentalist bollocks?

Tell you what wise-guy, look around you; we’ve a few colder days but it’s supposed to be January for crying out loud into an unused snood. Nature doesn’t know if it coming or going. Plants are like “eh, what, is it time to bud now?”

Venture outside early and hear birds singing their spring song already, they don’t know if it’s mating season, migration or what to-buggery is going on. I wager they adopt the same ethos as me with the bins; wait and see what the neighbours do and when. They’re like, “hey Bob, we supposed to be migrating or what?” Bob is all like, “dunno pal, hoping you’d tell me.”

Forget not, these are the same group of ninnies certain the world is flat. Despite: YOU. CAN. SEE. IT. Climb a mountain, a skyscraper will suffice; you can see the curvature of the Earth.

Garth Brooks; I’ll tolerate. McDonalds; might munch one occasionally. But do we have to adopt this bonkers American credence? I’ll tell you what’s flat shall I? Your flipping brain is. Flat, and about the same dimensions as a postage stamp.

Take your flipping gear out of reverse, we must do what we can even if it works or if it doesn’t, least we can say we tried.

There, that cheered you up? I’m getting out of the wheelie-bin now.


Mind your Manners; Special Brew are coming the Cons Club in April

With barely enough time to tack another mirror to their Lambrettas, The Devizes Scooter Club is zooming forward with a Bad Manners Tribute band on April 28th at their regular venue, the Conservative Club.

After booking Northern Soul DJ Terry Hendrick for 24th Feb and hosting a 70s/80s disco on 31st March, are they out to put a gig on monthly? I asked the Colonel of the club Adam Ford. “We’ve got six dates in 2018 so far,” he told me; bookmark 30th June, 25th August and the 27th October in your busy diary rude boys and girls.

specail brew

Now you don’t have to be a Tiswas devotee to know the music of Bad Manners, surely? Formed in 1976 in North London, the Two-Tone band had enormous success with several notable hits you can’t help but dance to.

I recall seeing them at Level Three in Swindon in the nineties, on a tangent, it’s sad to hear the news Sheer’s night with Frank Turner will be the last gig there. A sad day for Swindon’s music scene, the venue and the Rolleston pub next door has been going for as long I can remember. I recall fond nights with the likes of the Skanxters and Zion Train.

Bad Manners though, they gave Millie’s “My Boy Lollipop,” a gender-swap cover, “Lip up Fatty,” was an anthem, “Lorraine,” and “Walking in the Sunshine,” both fantastic, and when they did the Can-Can, even my gran would be shaking a leg at those eighties family parties. Personal favourite though has to be “Special Brew,” which coincidently is the name of the Cardiff-based tribute act heading this event.


We’re just entering our 4th year of playing,” the band’s manager Wayne told me, “Things have gone from strength to strength.”

Of course, irregular frontman Buster Bloodvessel is the main reason for the notoriety of Bad Manners; that belly, baldhead and, well, that tongue. He managed to get them banned from Top of the Pops, and let’s just say the Pope didn’t take to kindly to him, or his backside, either. I asked Wayne if he’d met Buster and if he approved.

“We’ve met Buster a few times,” he continued, “he totally approves of us and appreciates us doing what we do. Angela, our sax player played for Buster and Bad Manners at last year’s Cardiff gig.”


Doubly confirming this tribute act isn’t watering anything down, their frontman goes by the name of Busta Bollock, and sure looks the part.

I asked Wayne for their favourite Bad Manners tune. “I guess each member has their own favourite but as a band we’d have to say Lip Up Fatty,” he answered, which didn’t help my patience any in anticipating April 28th; can’t wait!

Special Brew @ The Cons Club: April 28th 2018


The Ideal Husband is at the Wharf

What makes the ideal husband you might ask; what’s that honey, you woke me up?

One made of chocolate and praline perhaps, one who can fix the broken drain in just cut-off jeans and still smells like rosewood and patchouli, one who folds his socks in pairs might be adequate; I don’t know, maybe Oscar Wilde has a better answer than me. That is where the Wharf Theatre in Devizes comes in.

So yes ladies, the Ideal Husband is at the Wharf, rather than yours who is snoozing on the sofa, cuddling a bowl of cheesy puffs with his hand down his pants. Running from Friday 26th January to Saturday 3rd February, the Wharf’s next production is Oscar Wilde’s brilliant tale of political scandal.

Wilde introduces his audience to a young, highly respected politician, whose murky past comes to light at just the wrong moment. Lord Chiltern is on his way up and is being spoken of as a possible future Prime Minister. He is considered morally upright without a stain on his character and his wife, Mabel, considers him an ideal husband.

However it soon emerges that his meteoric rise was not without compromise and an early indiscretion leaves him wide open to blackmail; tales of political scandal are nothing new.

Tickets are now on sale at £12 with £10 concessions and can be purchased from the Devizes Community Hub and Library on Sheep Street, the Wharf Theatre website or call: 03336 663 366


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