He recreates the experience with brutal underscoring, inviting us to imagine incarceration and the daily privations which work to grind down the prisoner, particularly one who thinks art can challenge authority. His detention was a scolding reminder of the power of the state and a corrective to the fanciful Western ideal of artistic freedom.

Sewing a Button is both a literal and a figurative recreation of Ai Weiwei’s arbitrary arrest and imprisonment. We see the cramped conditions of his cell, bed hushed up against the wall, one easy chair, a desk a sop to the idea of being able to carry out work, a bathroom where he can only relieve himself watched out over by two doleful guards and where his toothbrush is manacled to the tap.

What we mainly see is Weiwei exercising (the mind as well as the body presumably) by traversing his cell floor back and forth, back and forth, flanked by Chinese soldiers, one either side, Weiwei in sliders and joggers, the soldiers in fatigues and army boots. The crushing power of the state lies in its ability to reduce life (and art) to a monotonous exercise where time is stripped of its function as a marker of activity. Occasionally the artist will hold up a hand, a signal that he requires a drink of water. This, though, he cannot get for himself – rather, it is brought to him by a soldier and his every gulp is fastidiously watched over before it is taken off him and he returns to pacing the cell.

Occasionally, glimpses of muffled conversation between Ai Weiwei and his guards can be heard, and he is not spared the ignominy of interrogation. It is in this section that Weiwei is allowed the space to define art, its historical and political function, his words noted down by functionaries of the state. Personal art, he says, can’t change history or push it forward, but it is capable of reflecting changes in society.

Watching such activity as a ‘spectator’ is simultaneously soporific and chilling, the boredom of the daily exercise and watchful guards a stark contrast to the power of the state machine to exercise control over a person. As we watch Weiwei recreate imprisonment in a 24-hour live performance, projected onto a screen above the stage are different viewpoints of the cell which the audience can imagine themselves in. Surveillance does not end with the guards but is aided and abetted by CCTV cameras.

Lots of artists have been imprisoned for their work, and lots have memorably detailed their experiences, but perhaps none more so in a way which displays the banality of state terror and how ultimately it points to a failure of power rather than its imposition.

Ai Weiwei: Sewing A Button is a 24 hour performance at Aviva Studios on 4 July 2026. You can watch a live broadcast online. This installation is a companion piece to Weiwei’s major new exhibition Button Up! in which the artist explores how historic systems of trade, empire and exploitation resonate in today’s humanitarian and political crises. The exhibition runs until 6 September 2026.

The post Ai Weiwei: Sewing A Button – Review appeared first on Quays Life.

You may think that with only less than an hour the exhibit would struggle to fit all this in, but it has been meticulously curated and contains details of the most important periods of his life, such as the time he spent living in Los Angeles.  

Through his perspective it captures and explores Hockney’s creative process, in addition to exploring his relationships and interactions with the world around him. 

It was first held at the Lightroom gallery in London, and came to Aviva Studios last year. Following that success the exhibition returns to the venue as part of a trio of immersive experiences from Lightroom and Factory International being held at Aviva Studios this winter

Andrew Witherspoon, the marketing producer for the exhibition, is one of the many individuals who have been part of this long creative process and Hockney himself has been completely involved from the very beginning. 

Over a number of years, Hockney himself and his studio assistants worked together through the covid pandemic using scale models.

Hockney’s process is revealed in a cycle of six chapters featuring some of his most iconic images. An array of state-of-the-art projectors, which were picked out personally by Hockney as they were the only ones deemed adequately able to represent the brightness and vividness of his colours, loom overhead. 

Hockney has been a long-time advocate for embracing the use of art within technology, and this exhibit is a fantastic example of the way it can bring art to life in a way that transcends beyond the limitations of a traditional static canvas. 

After stepping inside the exhibit, you suddenly become transported; you’re no longer in Salford on a gloomy grey day – you’re simultaneously taken inside his mind and across the world, to the destinations which have inspired some of his most famous work.

The four walls, along with the floor, transform into many things throughout the course of the exhibition: a longboat, an opera theatre, and of course at one point, a gigantic swimming pool. 

The exhibit is narrated by Hockney himself, and the script is comprised of 60 years’ worth of interviews, edited together so seamlessly you would never even realise there may be decades between one word and the next. 

In one sentence you might be hearing some audio from an interview in 1980, and other audio from an interview we captured in 2021 stitched together.

His commentary is intertwined with an original score by American composer Nico Muhly which provides an orchestral ambience to the exhibit. 

One constant throughout Hockney’s career has been his lifelong fascination with nature and all its intricacies, and this message reiterates throughout the span of the exhibit. 

Hockney actively encourages the viewer to truly interrogate their surroundings -he completely engulfs the onlooker, and the enormous screens which and gigantic speakers leave no option for the viewer than to attentively digest his message. 

David Hockney: Bigger & Closer (Not Smaller & Further Away) is at Aviva Studios from 16 December 2025 to 11 January 2026. It is one of three large-scale 360° immersive experiences from Lightroom running in repertory at Aviva Studios this winter with alongside new shows VOGUE: Inventing the Runway and The Moonwalkers: A Journey With Tom Hanks.

Dog-friendly slots are on specific dates/times. See factoryinternational.org for details.

The post David Hockney: Bigger & Closer (Not Smaller & Further Away) – Review appeared first on Quays Life.

In many ways the broader description suits it well, because this mash-up of Shakespeare’s Hamlet and Radiohead’s 2003 album, Hail to the Thief is neither a rock musical nor a straight play. Rather this co-production from Factory International and RSC presents an immersive experience, at times both gig-like and filmic, fusing these singularly challenging art works to create something new and more accessible.

It is an experimental show that has been simmering in the creative minds of co-creators Christine Jones, Steven Hoggett and Thom Yorke for 20 years. Co-directors Jones and Hoggett previously worked together on several projects including political Green Day musical American Idiot. This production has a similar dark, politicised and angsty tone. But it is definitely not a musical. And while the music and play get equal billing in the title don’t expect to go along and hear a live version of the album.

Instead, Radiohead’s Yorke has reworked his album as a continuous soundtrack which is played by a live band (not Radiohead) on-stage behind visible sound booths, with two singers Ed Begley and Megan Hill on an upper level, like turrets of the castle, looking down into the main hall of the stage.

The music adds another layer of emotional depth, providing seamless space for physical theatre and dance to fill the gaps where the text has been slashed to keep the running time to a tight one hour 45 minutes. The music also comes to the fore in the staging designed by AMP featuring Sadra Tehrani, who make use of huge amps as props on an otherwise bare stage. Jessica Hung Han Yun’s lighting design produces a stadium gig effect, that feels like an assault on the senses in the relatively small space of Aviva Studios.

It all goes to make for a sense of unease that something is rotten in the state of Denmark. So, what of Hamlet? Well, it is a bit of a whistle-stop tour of the play, but the main scenes are all there, albeit much-shortened, and it makes for an accessible and gripping introduction to the story.

Samuel Blenkin brings out the vulnerability and complexity of Hamlet’s character. His abandoned dancing with Ophelia and enthusiastic banter with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern show us glimpses of a more joyful side to his personality.  He is equally sympathetic when wallowing and raving, his grief and righteous anger misunderstood as madness in a society that seems to be complicit in the wrong-doings of those in power.

In its stripping down of the text with explosive force it feels like Hamlet Hail to the Thief has illuminated the core of Shakespeare’s universal tale and it’s blindingly good.

‘Hamlet Hail to the Thief’ is a co-production between the Royal Shakespeare Company and Factory International, running at Aviva Studios Home of Factory International, Manchester until 18 May before transferring to the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford Upon Avon from 4 June – 28 June.

The post Hamlet Hail to the Thief: Review appeared first on Quays Life.

We are what we eat. In age of financial strife, child hunger and queues at food banks, not everyone can afford to be fussy. Fast food producers resort to cheap and desperate gimmicks – meat in amusing shapes! free plastic toys! – in order to attract young consumers, and make sure they remain loyal. Consumption is the ultimate goal of every marketing team, even if that means selling your soul to get there.

Which brings us to Sweet Dreams, a co production between Factory International, and the art collective MLF (Marshmallow Lazer Quest). Billed as a ‘new immersive experience’, Sweet Dreams takes audiences on a surreal and satirical journey through food, appetite and desire, seen mostly from the point of a naïve food mascot, Chicky Ricky (smartly voiced by actor and comedian Munya Chawawa). As the audience moves through a series of themed rooms, other characters are introduced including Penny Peckish and the sinister ‘Boss’, who has a Rolodex instead of a face (voiced by Reggie Watts). Chicky Ricky thinks he’s living his best life but the company he works for is in commercial decline. For Ricky, it’s a painful road to fast food Damascus.

Says MLF director Robin McNicholas: ‘Sweet Dreams holds a cartoon mirror on our world. We’re serving up a story where audiences can deepen their connection to the food they eat. We aim to spark further conversations about our place in the food chain, via chirpy cartoon faces that are often the gatekeepers to the things we consume.’

The age range for the show is 12 plus. A responsible move because very young children would be freaked out by some scenes. At times, it feels like this is collaboration between satirist Chris Morris and horror director Ti West, with additional input from kitsch artist Jeff Koons. The factory conveyer belt is the stuff of nightmares, with workers encouraged to have regular ‘despair breaks’ and scream into the abyss via a metal funnel (an idea stolen from Unnovations, another blackly comic Charlie Brooker publication).

On a purely visual level, this show is a knockout, a jaw dropping blend of motion graphics, gaming, illustration, and bespoke objects. The scene of a dozen chewing mouths is something David Lynch would kill to have in his next movie. The vocal presence of gifted comic actress Morgana Robinson (who many will know from the sitcom Stuck), is a plus as are the character illustrations from French artists McBess.

But it’s the satirical script from former chef Simon Wroe which is the secret weapon. Wroe’s sly corporate speak is chilling and hilarious; in fact, I’m tempted to watch Sweet Dreams a second time, just to hear the rich, playful language. It’s a pleasure to see a show where a writer is given carte blanche to let his imagination run wild.

It’s unlikely anyone will emerge from Sweet Dreams eager to eat white meat. Some people may feel nauseous. Others may become vegetarian. What’s that loud whirring sound? It’s Bernard Matthews, spinning in his grave. Bootiful.

Sweet Dreams is at Aviva Studios until 1 September 2024.

The post Sweet Dreams at Aviva Studios: Review appeared first on Quays Life.

Manchester weather is unusually kind as 50 or so of us gather in Sackville Gardens (other groups are gathering in Peel Park, Ordsall Park and Cathedral Gardens) for the first part of the event – a stroll through the city centre, headed for Aviva Studios (the location for part two).

Although a reasonably up-to-date smart phone is recommended (to download the “City of Floating Sounds” app – to hear music as we walk and have access to the map), you will be able to get by without it. Just turn up, follow Factory International’s patient, efficient and friendly guides, tag along with the group (you’ll be able to hear the digital music from their phones, as you walk). Do chat with strangers along the way. It’s part of the fun, and some of them you’ll no doubt bump into later.

Our route takes us through the Gay Village, towards the Central Library, around by Manchester Central, pausing for stragglers in St John’s Gardens, onwards, via Deansgate, to the concert hall (with ample time to grab a drink and reflect).

If the rebel lurks within you, there is no need to follow the route and stick with the gang. By all means find your own way (or, even skip part one and go straight to Aviva Studios). Similarly, if you don’t feel up to the 30 minute walk (entirely on the flat), use the digital map to choose a point along the way to meet up with the group. Your own way is the right way. That said, I strongly recommend sticking with the group, if you are able.

As we walk, digital music plays from each of our phones. Intrigued passers by stop and ask what’s happening. The guides do their best to keep us safe (this is Manchester at commuting time). Even so, a pleasant woman, hefty rucksack on her back, plays “Chicken” with a tram approaching St Peter’s Square. (She wins, though I think the kindly tram driver let her).

Besides trams, we pass buses, impatient commuting drivers honking, an ambulance or two with sirens sounding, a man pushing a rattling trolley loaded with water cooler refills, punters chatting and laughing in street-side bars – all those regular sounds of a vibrant, busy city. With the music rising and falling in our ears, it is as though we are walking through the opening-credit scene of some Hollywood movie set in this fine English city.

Having, questioningly but eagerly, followed our “leaders” and their music on this beautiful evening, just like the children of Hamelin, we disappear – not into a mountainside, but into the comparative gloom of Aviva Studios.

After pausing for a drink, and to reflect on what we’ve experienced, we are invited up into the auditorium. (There is an escalator and a lift, for any with mobility issues). The hall itself is stripped of seating (apart from relatively few, free-standing chairs, set out in twos and threes).

Notably hazed and lit only gently from the backdrops framing the space, the eye is immediately draw to musicians (real live human beings with instruments): an orchestra, raised on metal platforms, perhaps a metre and a half high. The various sections (string, woodwind, brass) are set apart as they would be in a conventional concert, only the groupings are smaller (duos, trios, the occasional quartet).

Standing alone, on her very own platform and, necessarily, more starkly lit, is conductor, Gemma New, who is about to lead her players (and ourselves) into a wondrous new species of musical theatre: musicians and audience moving together to create a unique theatrical performance.

This concert lasts 40-45 minutes. I sit for the first 25 minutes, listening, and watching my fellow audience members (some of them now not quite strangers) standing or strolling among the musicians on their platforms. Some are studious; some captivated, almost dazed; others, not quite getting it, chat and joke, as in some swish new bar where music is mere incidental background for their conversation. One man circulates, a tiny baby fastened in a sling on his chest. Next to me, a woman sips from a beaker, ice cubes rattling. And everywhere, the muffled sound of perambulating human feet.

All the while, Ruo’s score – minimalistic, caressing, eastern influences blending with western – soars above and around the “noise;” a broadly flowing river of crafted melody and harmony, running alongside the ceaselessly babbling stream of random human motion.

Time for me to take a stroll through the throng. People spy friends, unexpectedly. They hug and laugh, exchanging their enthusiasms. A few small children wander, quietly engrossed, as though exploring some sonic playground, built especially for them. One woman, eyes closed, sways and dances, just like this is Woodstock ’69. And there is my new friend, the tram-dodger, rucksack still in place, smiling and nodding approvingly. Smiles, warm or semi-beatific, are the currency of the evening.

Photographs (no flash, please) are permitted, not video. Take a few but, please just Be Here Now. Stand close by as many of the platforms as you can, to hear the contribution of each section (how few of us have had this opportunity!) Two platforms each are peopled by cellists and double bassists – from up close, their deep tones vibrate delectably. Brass and woodwind sing in ways you might never again get to hear.

After Saturday, “City of Floating Sounds” transfers to New York City’s Lincoln Center.

Go now, if you can.

Huang Ruo: City of Floating Sounds is at Aviva Studios from 6-8 June 2024.

The post Huang Ruo: City of Floating Sounds – Review appeared first on Quays Life.