Museum lights up with Cerith Wyn Evans neon sculptures
The Welsh artist has exhibited worldwide and the Museum of Contemporary Art's winter exhibition represents his first major solo show in Australia.
The show, Cerith Wyn Evans ... in light of the visible, looks back at the last 15 years of the artist's work, his installations filling the gallery with both light and sound.
The exhibition has been conceived as if the visitor is strolling through a garden, with potted palms on rotating platforms across the gallery.
One standout is the 2020 artwork F=O=U=N=T=A=I=N, a wall of white neon Japanese script measuring three metres high and ten metres wide, with an archway for gallery-goers to walk through.
It's installed near an earlier work, 2018's Composition for 37 Flutes, in which air is drawn through 37 glass pipes, periodically breathing sound into the luminous space.
Evans has spent weeks in Australia working on the installation of dozens of delicate artworks like these, including site-specific new works made in response to Sydney's winter light.
Of these, the biggest is Sydney Drift (2025) which fills a whole room with neon scribbles installed across three dimensions - from circles of various sizes to parabolas and dramatic straight lines.
Mirrors installed on columns also amplify the artworks into entire scenes of luminosity.
"People have just been extraordinarily kind to me in Australia, and I can really pick up on people's generosity and their capacity for poetry," said Evans.
But what does it all mean? Unlike most exhibitions, there are no curatorial explanations telling people the answers - these tiny plaques are something the artist hates.
"People need to walk in there and just feel their gut reaction to what the hell is going on," he said.
It's all inspired by the artist's deep interests in music, history, literature and philosophy, exploring ideas such as space, time and perception.
Despite his global reputation, at a media preview Wednesday Evans did not appear entirely comfortable being the centre of attention.
"I feel vulnerable because I'm on display, and that makes me feel sensitive, so that's where it comes from," he said.
AAP travelled to Sydney with the assistance of the Museum of Contemporary Art Australia.
As the Vivid festival lights up Sydney, the city's contemporary art museum is also illuminated, with the neon glow of artworks by Cerith Wyn Evans.
The Welsh artist has exhibited worldwide and the Museum of Contemporary Art's winter exhibition represents his first major solo show in Australia.
The show, Cerith Wyn Evans ... in light of the visible, looks back at the last 15 years of the artist's work, his installations filling the gallery with both light and sound.
The exhibition has been conceived as if the visitor is strolling through a garden, with potted palms on rotating platforms across the gallery.
One standout is the 2020 artwork F=O=U=N=T=A=I=N, a wall of white neon Japanese script measuring three metres high and ten metres wide, with an archway for gallery-goers to walk through.
It's installed near an earlier work, 2018's Composition for 37 Flutes, in which air is drawn through 37 glass pipes, periodically breathing sound into the luminous space.
Evans has spent weeks in Australia working on the installation of dozens of delicate artworks like these, including site-specific new works made in response to Sydney's winter light.
Of these, the biggest is Sydney Drift (2025) which fills a whole room with neon scribbles installed across three dimensions - from circles of various sizes to parabolas and dramatic straight lines.
Mirrors installed on columns also amplify the artworks into entire scenes of luminosity.
"People have just been extraordinarily kind to me in Australia, and I can really pick up on people's generosity and their capacity for poetry," said Evans.
But what does it all mean? Unlike most exhibitions, there are no curatorial explanations telling people the answers - these tiny plaques are something the artist hates.
"People need to walk in there and just feel their gut reaction to what the hell is going on," he said.
It's all inspired by the artist's deep interests in music, history, literature and philosophy, exploring ideas such as space, time and perception.
Despite his global reputation, at a media preview Wednesday Evans did not appear entirely comfortable being the centre of attention.
"I feel vulnerable because I'm on display, and that makes me feel sensitive, so that's where it comes from," he said.
AAP travelled to Sydney with the assistance of the Museum of Contemporary Art Australia.
As the Vivid festival lights up Sydney, the city's contemporary art museum is also illuminated, with the neon glow of artworks by Cerith Wyn Evans.
The Welsh artist has exhibited worldwide and the Museum of Contemporary Art's winter exhibition represents his first major solo show in Australia.
The show, Cerith Wyn Evans ... in light of the visible, looks back at the last 15 years of the artist's work, his installations filling the gallery with both light and sound.
The exhibition has been conceived as if the visitor is strolling through a garden, with potted palms on rotating platforms across the gallery.
One standout is the 2020 artwork F=O=U=N=T=A=I=N, a wall of white neon Japanese script measuring three metres high and ten metres wide, with an archway for gallery-goers to walk through.
It's installed near an earlier work, 2018's Composition for 37 Flutes, in which air is drawn through 37 glass pipes, periodically breathing sound into the luminous space.
Evans has spent weeks in Australia working on the installation of dozens of delicate artworks like these, including site-specific new works made in response to Sydney's winter light.
Of these, the biggest is Sydney Drift (2025) which fills a whole room with neon scribbles installed across three dimensions - from circles of various sizes to parabolas and dramatic straight lines.
Mirrors installed on columns also amplify the artworks into entire scenes of luminosity.
"People have just been extraordinarily kind to me in Australia, and I can really pick up on people's generosity and their capacity for poetry," said Evans.
But what does it all mean? Unlike most exhibitions, there are no curatorial explanations telling people the answers - these tiny plaques are something the artist hates.
"People need to walk in there and just feel their gut reaction to what the hell is going on," he said.
It's all inspired by the artist's deep interests in music, history, literature and philosophy, exploring ideas such as space, time and perception.
Despite his global reputation, at a media preview Wednesday Evans did not appear entirely comfortable being the centre of attention.
"I feel vulnerable because I'm on display, and that makes me feel sensitive, so that's where it comes from," he said.
AAP travelled to Sydney with the assistance of the Museum of Contemporary Art Australia.
As the Vivid festival lights up Sydney, the city's contemporary art museum is also illuminated, with the neon glow of artworks by Cerith Wyn Evans.
The Welsh artist has exhibited worldwide and the Museum of Contemporary Art's winter exhibition represents his first major solo show in Australia.
The show, Cerith Wyn Evans ... in light of the visible, looks back at the last 15 years of the artist's work, his installations filling the gallery with both light and sound.
The exhibition has been conceived as if the visitor is strolling through a garden, with potted palms on rotating platforms across the gallery.
One standout is the 2020 artwork F=O=U=N=T=A=I=N, a wall of white neon Japanese script measuring three metres high and ten metres wide, with an archway for gallery-goers to walk through.
It's installed near an earlier work, 2018's Composition for 37 Flutes, in which air is drawn through 37 glass pipes, periodically breathing sound into the luminous space.
Evans has spent weeks in Australia working on the installation of dozens of delicate artworks like these, including site-specific new works made in response to Sydney's winter light.
Of these, the biggest is Sydney Drift (2025) which fills a whole room with neon scribbles installed across three dimensions - from circles of various sizes to parabolas and dramatic straight lines.
Mirrors installed on columns also amplify the artworks into entire scenes of luminosity.
"People have just been extraordinarily kind to me in Australia, and I can really pick up on people's generosity and their capacity for poetry," said Evans.
But what does it all mean? Unlike most exhibitions, there are no curatorial explanations telling people the answers - these tiny plaques are something the artist hates.
"People need to walk in there and just feel their gut reaction to what the hell is going on," he said.
It's all inspired by the artist's deep interests in music, history, literature and philosophy, exploring ideas such as space, time and perception.
Despite his global reputation, at a media preview Wednesday Evans did not appear entirely comfortable being the centre of attention.
"I feel vulnerable because I'm on display, and that makes me feel sensitive, so that's where it comes from," he said.
AAP travelled to Sydney with the assistance of the Museum of Contemporary Art Australia.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Advertiser
an hour ago
- The Advertiser
Catherine Zeta-Jones, Michael Douglas 'very similar'
Hollywood couple Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas will celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary this year, with Zeta-Jones crediting like-minded attitudes for their enduring partnership. "Two celebrities together make ten. It's just the way it is. There's two versions of the story and there's two make-believes. We don't listen to the crap that is written about us, that's the main thing," the 55-year-old actress told The Sunday Times. "And we respect our space, we're independent spirits. We are very similar; we were born on the same day, 25 years apart. We're not afraid to be verbal, to express ourselves. I wear everything on my sleeve and so does he, which is good." Douglas, 80, revealed earlier this year that he doesn't plan to act again as prefers to "watch my wife work" but Zeta-Jones won't be surprised if he returns to the big screen. The Welsh actress - who has son Dylan, 25, and daughter Carys, 22, with the Wall Street star - said: "Michael has definitely earned the chance to slow down. "But I never say never. He's his father's son and loves to work - let's just say, 'retirement' is a flexible concept." Zeta-Jones found fame in the British TV series The Darling Buds of May but explained that she was frustrated by the "great beauty" roles she was subsequently offered. "I always thought of myself as attractive and interesting, but never a great beauty," the Oscar-winning actress said. Zeta-Jones plays Morticia Addams in the Netflix series Wednesday and confessed that she didn't know who co-star Jenna Ortega, 22, was initially, but soon realised that she is a "phenomenon". "When we first met I didn't know who she was. It took me one moment on set to work out who she was going to be. It was very clear that she was a phenomenon," she said. "I mean, forget the show, just her as a young woman, as an actress, the way she is. She has a smart head on her shoulders." Zeta-Jones says she's at a stage of her life where "everything is a bonus". "I have had such a great and varied career. I've worked with great directors, great actors. Everything now is a bonus." Hollywood couple Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas will celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary this year, with Zeta-Jones crediting like-minded attitudes for their enduring partnership. "Two celebrities together make ten. It's just the way it is. There's two versions of the story and there's two make-believes. We don't listen to the crap that is written about us, that's the main thing," the 55-year-old actress told The Sunday Times. "And we respect our space, we're independent spirits. We are very similar; we were born on the same day, 25 years apart. We're not afraid to be verbal, to express ourselves. I wear everything on my sleeve and so does he, which is good." Douglas, 80, revealed earlier this year that he doesn't plan to act again as prefers to "watch my wife work" but Zeta-Jones won't be surprised if he returns to the big screen. The Welsh actress - who has son Dylan, 25, and daughter Carys, 22, with the Wall Street star - said: "Michael has definitely earned the chance to slow down. "But I never say never. He's his father's son and loves to work - let's just say, 'retirement' is a flexible concept." Zeta-Jones found fame in the British TV series The Darling Buds of May but explained that she was frustrated by the "great beauty" roles she was subsequently offered. "I always thought of myself as attractive and interesting, but never a great beauty," the Oscar-winning actress said. Zeta-Jones plays Morticia Addams in the Netflix series Wednesday and confessed that she didn't know who co-star Jenna Ortega, 22, was initially, but soon realised that she is a "phenomenon". "When we first met I didn't know who she was. It took me one moment on set to work out who she was going to be. It was very clear that she was a phenomenon," she said. "I mean, forget the show, just her as a young woman, as an actress, the way she is. She has a smart head on her shoulders." Zeta-Jones says she's at a stage of her life where "everything is a bonus". "I have had such a great and varied career. I've worked with great directors, great actors. Everything now is a bonus." Hollywood couple Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas will celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary this year, with Zeta-Jones crediting like-minded attitudes for their enduring partnership. "Two celebrities together make ten. It's just the way it is. There's two versions of the story and there's two make-believes. We don't listen to the crap that is written about us, that's the main thing," the 55-year-old actress told The Sunday Times. "And we respect our space, we're independent spirits. We are very similar; we were born on the same day, 25 years apart. We're not afraid to be verbal, to express ourselves. I wear everything on my sleeve and so does he, which is good." Douglas, 80, revealed earlier this year that he doesn't plan to act again as prefers to "watch my wife work" but Zeta-Jones won't be surprised if he returns to the big screen. The Welsh actress - who has son Dylan, 25, and daughter Carys, 22, with the Wall Street star - said: "Michael has definitely earned the chance to slow down. "But I never say never. He's his father's son and loves to work - let's just say, 'retirement' is a flexible concept." Zeta-Jones found fame in the British TV series The Darling Buds of May but explained that she was frustrated by the "great beauty" roles she was subsequently offered. "I always thought of myself as attractive and interesting, but never a great beauty," the Oscar-winning actress said. Zeta-Jones plays Morticia Addams in the Netflix series Wednesday and confessed that she didn't know who co-star Jenna Ortega, 22, was initially, but soon realised that she is a "phenomenon". "When we first met I didn't know who she was. It took me one moment on set to work out who she was going to be. It was very clear that she was a phenomenon," she said. "I mean, forget the show, just her as a young woman, as an actress, the way she is. She has a smart head on her shoulders." Zeta-Jones says she's at a stage of her life where "everything is a bonus". "I have had such a great and varied career. I've worked with great directors, great actors. Everything now is a bonus."
Perth Now
2 hours ago
- Perth Now
Catherine Zeta-Jones and husband Michael Douglas 'are very similar'
Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas "are very similar". The Hollywood couple will celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary later this year and Catherine believes that their like-minded attitudes have enabled their marriage to stay strong. The 55-year-old actress told The Sunday Times: "Two celebrities together make ten. It's just the way it is. There's two versions of the story and there's two make-believes. We don't listen to the crap that is written about us, that's the main thing. "And we respect our space, we're independent spirits. We are very similar; we were born on the same day, 25 years apart. We're not afraid to be verbal, to express ourselves. I wear everything on my sleeve and so does he, which is good." Douglas, 80, revealed earlier this year that he didn't plan to act again as prefers to "watch my wife work" but Catherine wouldn't be surprised if her husband, the son of late Hollywood legend Kirk Douglas, returns to the big screen. The Welsh actress - who has son Dylan, 25, and daughter Carys, 22, with the Wall Street star - said: "Michael has definitely earned the chance to slow down. "But I never say never. He's his father's son and loves to work - let's just say, 'retirement' is a flexible concept." Catherine found fame in the British TV series The Darling Buds of May but explained that she was frustrated by the "great beauty" roles she was subsequently offered. The Oscar-winning actress said: "I don't consider myself a great beauty. "I always thought of myself as attractive and interesting, but never a great beauty." Zeta-Jones plays Morticia Addams in the Netflix series Wednesday and confessed that she didn't know who co-star Jenna Ortega, 22, was initially, but soon realised that she is a "phenomenon". The Chicago star said: "When we first met I didn't know who she was. It took me one moment on set to work out who she was going to be. It was very clear that she was a phenomenon. "I mean, forget the show, just her as a young woman, as an actress, the way she is. She has a smart head on her shoulders." Catherine added that she is at a stage of her life where "everything is a bonus". She said: "I have had such a great and varied career. I've worked with great directors, great actors. Everything now is a bonus."
The Advertiser
6 hours ago
- The Advertiser
This modest and well-meaning story has impeccable historical detail
Inspirational teachers enjoy a well-deserved niche at the movies. To Sir, With Love, with Sidney Poitier, was a landmark in the sixties, while The Teacher Who Promised the Sea is a recent entry in the Spanish language. The late Robin Williams was unforgettable as one of these special, brilliantly motivational people in Dead Poets Society. While Mr Burton charts the success of a teacher who was indispensable to the development of one of the great movie stars, it also reveals the early life of an actor who seemed destined for the same life as his alcoholic father, a rough Welsh coal miner. The hardship Richard Burton endured in his early life may come as a shock, but it also serves as an insight into the destructive personal struggles in his later life, when it seemed he had everything. A classic film about an inspirational teacher, Goodbye, Mr. Chips, was running in cinemas in 1939, around the time that 17-year-old Richard Burton (Harry Lawtey) was nearing his last year at school in a mining town in Wales. Life with his beloved elder sister Cis (Aimee Ffion-Edwards) would be alright, were it not for her coalminer husband, Elfed (Aneurin Barnard), who had no interest in letting him finish his schooling. However, his gifted literature teacher, who also delved in theatre and radio, somehow saw the potential that his sulky, wilful student had to be a great actor. And the rest is history. Philip Burton (Toby Jones) assumed guardianship of the young man, Richard Jenkins, who then adopted his name. Their mentoring relationship became as close as father and son, with Richard able to finish his schooling, consider a place at university, and make his way through rounds of auditions until he triumphed on stage in Shakespeare's Henry IV at Stratford-Upon-Avon in the early 1950s. It was a truly remarkable transformation. There had been so many obstacles to a life beyond Port Talbot, let alone to achieving international success on stage and screen. Richard was the 12th of 13 children, had lost his mother at the age of two and seemed destined to follow in the footsteps of his father, Dic (Steffan Rodhri), a pugnacious coal miner who spent his time outside the pits at the pub downing pints. How could young Richard imagine a future beyond the daily grind? The answer is, of course, through the arts. Mr Burton is a Welsh production. It is told as a period drama, modestly mounted with impeccable historical detail, effectively capturing the ambience of gloomy mid-century Welsh mining towns and the kind of characters that they produced. In this modest, well-meaning story directed by Marc Hyams and based on a screenplay written by Josh Hyams and Tom Bullough, we leave off at the start of Richard Burton's brilliant career. A little abruptly, perhaps, even though his life and career were soon to become public property. Before the final fade, there is no hint at all of the glamorous world in which he would become a famous player, critically acclaimed and able to command a huge fee for his Hollywood performances. And then there was the uniquely beautiful actor he married, twice, Elizabeth Taylor. What makes a great actor? It is always a question worth asking. Richard Burton's teacher had his work cut out. The accent would need modulating, and the anger and frustration would need tempering, but how did he come by that special something with which an actor makes a connection with audiences? his touching tale of success against the odds at least reveals the vulnerability that can lie behind mesmerising performance. Inspirational teachers enjoy a well-deserved niche at the movies. To Sir, With Love, with Sidney Poitier, was a landmark in the sixties, while The Teacher Who Promised the Sea is a recent entry in the Spanish language. The late Robin Williams was unforgettable as one of these special, brilliantly motivational people in Dead Poets Society. While Mr Burton charts the success of a teacher who was indispensable to the development of one of the great movie stars, it also reveals the early life of an actor who seemed destined for the same life as his alcoholic father, a rough Welsh coal miner. The hardship Richard Burton endured in his early life may come as a shock, but it also serves as an insight into the destructive personal struggles in his later life, when it seemed he had everything. A classic film about an inspirational teacher, Goodbye, Mr. Chips, was running in cinemas in 1939, around the time that 17-year-old Richard Burton (Harry Lawtey) was nearing his last year at school in a mining town in Wales. Life with his beloved elder sister Cis (Aimee Ffion-Edwards) would be alright, were it not for her coalminer husband, Elfed (Aneurin Barnard), who had no interest in letting him finish his schooling. However, his gifted literature teacher, who also delved in theatre and radio, somehow saw the potential that his sulky, wilful student had to be a great actor. And the rest is history. Philip Burton (Toby Jones) assumed guardianship of the young man, Richard Jenkins, who then adopted his name. Their mentoring relationship became as close as father and son, with Richard able to finish his schooling, consider a place at university, and make his way through rounds of auditions until he triumphed on stage in Shakespeare's Henry IV at Stratford-Upon-Avon in the early 1950s. It was a truly remarkable transformation. There had been so many obstacles to a life beyond Port Talbot, let alone to achieving international success on stage and screen. Richard was the 12th of 13 children, had lost his mother at the age of two and seemed destined to follow in the footsteps of his father, Dic (Steffan Rodhri), a pugnacious coal miner who spent his time outside the pits at the pub downing pints. How could young Richard imagine a future beyond the daily grind? The answer is, of course, through the arts. Mr Burton is a Welsh production. It is told as a period drama, modestly mounted with impeccable historical detail, effectively capturing the ambience of gloomy mid-century Welsh mining towns and the kind of characters that they produced. In this modest, well-meaning story directed by Marc Hyams and based on a screenplay written by Josh Hyams and Tom Bullough, we leave off at the start of Richard Burton's brilliant career. A little abruptly, perhaps, even though his life and career were soon to become public property. Before the final fade, there is no hint at all of the glamorous world in which he would become a famous player, critically acclaimed and able to command a huge fee for his Hollywood performances. And then there was the uniquely beautiful actor he married, twice, Elizabeth Taylor. What makes a great actor? It is always a question worth asking. Richard Burton's teacher had his work cut out. The accent would need modulating, and the anger and frustration would need tempering, but how did he come by that special something with which an actor makes a connection with audiences? his touching tale of success against the odds at least reveals the vulnerability that can lie behind mesmerising performance. Inspirational teachers enjoy a well-deserved niche at the movies. To Sir, With Love, with Sidney Poitier, was a landmark in the sixties, while The Teacher Who Promised the Sea is a recent entry in the Spanish language. The late Robin Williams was unforgettable as one of these special, brilliantly motivational people in Dead Poets Society. While Mr Burton charts the success of a teacher who was indispensable to the development of one of the great movie stars, it also reveals the early life of an actor who seemed destined for the same life as his alcoholic father, a rough Welsh coal miner. The hardship Richard Burton endured in his early life may come as a shock, but it also serves as an insight into the destructive personal struggles in his later life, when it seemed he had everything. A classic film about an inspirational teacher, Goodbye, Mr. Chips, was running in cinemas in 1939, around the time that 17-year-old Richard Burton (Harry Lawtey) was nearing his last year at school in a mining town in Wales. Life with his beloved elder sister Cis (Aimee Ffion-Edwards) would be alright, were it not for her coalminer husband, Elfed (Aneurin Barnard), who had no interest in letting him finish his schooling. However, his gifted literature teacher, who also delved in theatre and radio, somehow saw the potential that his sulky, wilful student had to be a great actor. And the rest is history. Philip Burton (Toby Jones) assumed guardianship of the young man, Richard Jenkins, who then adopted his name. Their mentoring relationship became as close as father and son, with Richard able to finish his schooling, consider a place at university, and make his way through rounds of auditions until he triumphed on stage in Shakespeare's Henry IV at Stratford-Upon-Avon in the early 1950s. It was a truly remarkable transformation. There had been so many obstacles to a life beyond Port Talbot, let alone to achieving international success on stage and screen. Richard was the 12th of 13 children, had lost his mother at the age of two and seemed destined to follow in the footsteps of his father, Dic (Steffan Rodhri), a pugnacious coal miner who spent his time outside the pits at the pub downing pints. How could young Richard imagine a future beyond the daily grind? The answer is, of course, through the arts. Mr Burton is a Welsh production. It is told as a period drama, modestly mounted with impeccable historical detail, effectively capturing the ambience of gloomy mid-century Welsh mining towns and the kind of characters that they produced. In this modest, well-meaning story directed by Marc Hyams and based on a screenplay written by Josh Hyams and Tom Bullough, we leave off at the start of Richard Burton's brilliant career. A little abruptly, perhaps, even though his life and career were soon to become public property. Before the final fade, there is no hint at all of the glamorous world in which he would become a famous player, critically acclaimed and able to command a huge fee for his Hollywood performances. And then there was the uniquely beautiful actor he married, twice, Elizabeth Taylor. What makes a great actor? It is always a question worth asking. Richard Burton's teacher had his work cut out. The accent would need modulating, and the anger and frustration would need tempering, but how did he come by that special something with which an actor makes a connection with audiences? his touching tale of success against the odds at least reveals the vulnerability that can lie behind mesmerising performance. Inspirational teachers enjoy a well-deserved niche at the movies. To Sir, With Love, with Sidney Poitier, was a landmark in the sixties, while The Teacher Who Promised the Sea is a recent entry in the Spanish language. The late Robin Williams was unforgettable as one of these special, brilliantly motivational people in Dead Poets Society. While Mr Burton charts the success of a teacher who was indispensable to the development of one of the great movie stars, it also reveals the early life of an actor who seemed destined for the same life as his alcoholic father, a rough Welsh coal miner. The hardship Richard Burton endured in his early life may come as a shock, but it also serves as an insight into the destructive personal struggles in his later life, when it seemed he had everything. A classic film about an inspirational teacher, Goodbye, Mr. Chips, was running in cinemas in 1939, around the time that 17-year-old Richard Burton (Harry Lawtey) was nearing his last year at school in a mining town in Wales. Life with his beloved elder sister Cis (Aimee Ffion-Edwards) would be alright, were it not for her coalminer husband, Elfed (Aneurin Barnard), who had no interest in letting him finish his schooling. However, his gifted literature teacher, who also delved in theatre and radio, somehow saw the potential that his sulky, wilful student had to be a great actor. And the rest is history. Philip Burton (Toby Jones) assumed guardianship of the young man, Richard Jenkins, who then adopted his name. Their mentoring relationship became as close as father and son, with Richard able to finish his schooling, consider a place at university, and make his way through rounds of auditions until he triumphed on stage in Shakespeare's Henry IV at Stratford-Upon-Avon in the early 1950s. It was a truly remarkable transformation. There had been so many obstacles to a life beyond Port Talbot, let alone to achieving international success on stage and screen. Richard was the 12th of 13 children, had lost his mother at the age of two and seemed destined to follow in the footsteps of his father, Dic (Steffan Rodhri), a pugnacious coal miner who spent his time outside the pits at the pub downing pints. How could young Richard imagine a future beyond the daily grind? The answer is, of course, through the arts. Mr Burton is a Welsh production. It is told as a period drama, modestly mounted with impeccable historical detail, effectively capturing the ambience of gloomy mid-century Welsh mining towns and the kind of characters that they produced. In this modest, well-meaning story directed by Marc Hyams and based on a screenplay written by Josh Hyams and Tom Bullough, we leave off at the start of Richard Burton's brilliant career. A little abruptly, perhaps, even though his life and career were soon to become public property. Before the final fade, there is no hint at all of the glamorous world in which he would become a famous player, critically acclaimed and able to command a huge fee for his Hollywood performances. And then there was the uniquely beautiful actor he married, twice, Elizabeth Taylor. What makes a great actor? It is always a question worth asking. Richard Burton's teacher had his work cut out. The accent would need modulating, and the anger and frustration would need tempering, but how did he come by that special something with which an actor makes a connection with audiences? his touching tale of success against the odds at least reveals the vulnerability that can lie behind mesmerising performance.
