Jesus and James

The peerless Clive James ended this year's series of Radio 4's A Point of View with a terrific essay.

Fascinating that a 'non-believer' is so profoundly in touch with essential aspects of JC that some of his followers seem to miss.

Click here to read.

Toodle-oo to 2008

Mr Gnome bids farewell to another year - and sends good wishes to all who are kind enough to glance at his blog, or even to read it.

And a not-too-profound (that'll be the day) guide to enjoying what will surely be a challenging year....

Christmas cornucopia

Once again, Christmas has brought a torrent of fabulous gifts. Mr G is beside himself with pleasure and gratitude.

• A suite of office-related paraphernalia: tape dispenser, stapler, hole-punch, pen holder - each item bearing iconic images of Mr Gnome. How useful.
• A pack of gnome-inspired playing cards. Snap!
• A trio of glow-in-the-dark gnome figurines, inspired surely by the famed Easter Island statues. Uplifting.

Hurrah for Christmas!

Don John

Last night, to wintry Stratford-upon-Avon to see the Kneehigh Theatre Company's Don John in the RSC's Courtyard Theatre.

This was a re-telling of the storyline treated so memorably in Mozart's opera Don Giovanni - with the characters transported to the dingy streets of London at the end of the 1970s.

During the course of the first half, a frail old man was senselessly murdered, an unhappy vicar ranted to the audience of his loss of faith and numerous brief couplings took place. And we had sight of possibly the most unappealing selection of underwear ever to grace the Stratford stage.

Those Seventies styles were, indeed, pants.

Characterization was minimal and the writing, to my ear, was stilted and unengaging.

In short, the whole mise en scene conjured up an atmosphere of such sordid despair that my companion and I were of one mind when the interval arrived. We went home.

Of course, things may have changed entirely in the second half, so, please, dear reader, this is simply a diary entry - it's not a review.

Er, for a review - try the excellent Charles Spencer of the Telegraph.

Theatre of war

An outing today to see the National Theatre's celebrated adaptation of Michael Morpurgo's novel War Horse.

Beginning in Edwardian Devonshire, the play follows the linked fortunes of Albert, a farmer's son, and his beloved horse Joey, both of whom are called to serve king and country in the horrors of the Great War.

Working with the remarkable South African Handspring Puppet Theatre, director Marianne Elliott and her mainly young cast conjure up the the deep bond between man and horse in a fast-flowing narrative that takes us from pastoral peace to the bleak devestation of Flanders fields, where men and beasts fell in their hundreds of thousands.

Yes, the horses are puppets. But the word seems uttelry inadaequate to describe what the War Horse audience experiences. Exquisitely crafted from leather and wicker, each horse is operated by three clearly visible men.

At first glance they make no concessions to naturalism - but when they move.... they live and breathe and prance and gallop with such extraordinary truth to life that one is drawn in to their story with an emotional impact that bypasses any hint of sentimentality.

This is a tough afternoon in the theatre, harrowing at times, and yet also deeply moving and uplifting.

Five stars.

Light

This is one of my favourite nativity images: light and darkness, amazement and mystery, peace and disturbance, heaven and earth.

A tiny, naked incandescent baby bathes his young mother in dazzling light, the illumination shared by a group of small, excited angels and by two attentive animals.

Joseph, rapt and still, watches from the shadows. All is peace and adoration.

But outside on the hillside, it's a different story as the shepherds desert their little fire to gaze in wonder at a single, vibrant angel, who chooses them, the poorest of the poor, to be the first to hear the news.

The picture was created by Geertgen and may be seen in the National Gallery, London.

I wish you a joyful Christmas.

Bill's Christmas cats

My friend Bill Sanderson makes his living as an illustrator. The arrival of his Christmas card has become an eagerly anticipated annual treat.

His theme is often feline. The image above appears on the front of the card and its witty sequel appears within.

Bill works on scraperboard, removing and removing the black surface to reveal the white board below. It's the opposite of traditional drawing, where dark lines are added to a white background.

I love the amazing economy of his images, and his ability to evoke textures, in this case the tufty silkiness of this very comfortable cat.