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    Dark Hedges: 6 ‘Game of Thrones’ Trees Will Be Cut Down

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    Six of the Dark Hedges beech trees, a tourist destination in Northern Ireland for fans of the HBO fantasy series, will be cut down because they are in poor condition, officials said.Six trees with long branches that twist up to the sky that were made famous by the series “Game of Thrones” will be cut down in the coming weeks, officials in Northern Ireland said on Monday.The trees are part of the Dark Hedges, an international tourist attraction for fans of the HBO fantasy series. As many as hundreds of tourists visit each day. The beech trees, which form an arch over a road, have become one of the most photographed spots in Northern Ireland.Northern Ireland’s Department for Infrastructure said that the six trees, in bucolic County Antrim, needed to be cut down because they were in poor condition and posed a risk to the public. An additional four trees will require remedial work and a fifth will be assessed, the statement said. The work will begin on Nov. 20.Essential public safety works, including removal and remedial works, to a number of trees at The Dark Hedges on Bregagh Road, Armoy will start on Monday 20 November 2023.More details: https://t.co/DLvlOTHzMQ pic.twitter.com/Vl4sjT3SOb— Department for Infrastructure (@deptinfra) November 13, 2023
    “This decision has not been made lightly and whilst the amenity value afforded by the corridor of trees is acknowledged, the safety of road users is paramount,” the Infrastructure Department said. The government said it would engage with the landowner and others to determine a strategy for protecting the other trees.“Game of Thrones” is based on the first five novels in George R.R. Martin’s series “A Song of Ice and Fire.” The Dark Hedges appear in the first episode of Season 2, when Arya Stark, disguised as a boy, escapes from her enemies in a cart, traveling north on the Kingsroad.“Game of Thrones” was filmed in locations around Northern Ireland, including at Titanic Studios in Belfast. Popular tourist locations for fans include Cushendun Caves, the beach where the priestess Melisandre gives birth in a cave to a supernatural assassin, and Ballintoy Harbour, built in the 1700s. There were more than 20 “Game of Thrones” filming locations in Northern Ireland, including medieval castles, harbors and coastlines, according to the country’s tourism board, which advertises of “Game of Thrones” tours.The Dark Hedges were also featured in “Transformers: The Last Knight.” There were originally about 150 trees, but today just 86 remain, with some having been damaged in storms or by rot.The trees that make up the Dark Hedges, which sit on privately owned land on Bregagh Road, were planted by the Stuart family in the 18th century. They were arranged to impress visitors as they approached the entrance to a Georgian mansion, Gracehill House. According to local lore, the area is haunted by a ghost known as the Grey Lady.A line from one of Martin’s books, “A Storm of Swords,” gives readers a sense of how foreboding the Kingsroad could be: “I’d stay well clear of that kingsroad, if I were you,” a peasant says. “It’s worse than bad, I hear. Wolves and lions both, and bands of broken men preying on anyone they can catch.” More

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      in Theater

      Interview: Now with Not Now

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      Max Elton and Matthew Blaney talk Not Now

      Finborough Theatre 1 – 26 November.

      In advance of David Ireland’s Not Now opening at Finborough Theatre in November, we chatted with Director Max Elton and actor Matthew Blaney about the play, playwright and bringing the show to London audiences.

      What can you tell us about the show.

      Max: The show is about a young man, Matthew, who is about to travel to London for an audition at RADA. The timing is not good, his father has just died, and in his place, his Uncle Ray emerges as confidant. The question is, is Ray able to help him navigate this difficult time, or is he a bit useless? David Ireland writes two types of plays. In one type babies are brutally murdered and dogs are romanced. This is the other type – though I think giving away anything more at this stage would be a bit of a spoiler and we wouldn’t be caught dead doing that. I think people will laugh a lot and feel like they’ve been treated to a deeply satisfying evening at the theatre – all in about 50 minutes. 

      Matthew: The play takes place in real time, in Ballybeen, East Belfast, where my character Matthew (an aspiring actor) prepares for his RADA audition that afternoon in London. It’s the day after his father’s funeral. He’s rehearsing the opening soliloquy from Richard III when his Uncle Ray interrupts him. Matthew is naturally feeling underprepared and is having second thoughts about going at all, and what unfolds is an examination on grief, identity, loyalty and love between the two men. It’s also feckin hilarious. 

      Ballybeen is where David’s from originally and listening to interviews he’s done in the past, and discussions in rehearsal, Matthew feels alot like how he may have been as a youngster; Matthew’s a very sweet kid: angry and awkward, but also very sincere. There’s a decency that slowly reveals itself in him I also find very touching.

      Max, you directed the very successful Yes So I Said Yes at Finborough last year, what was your first exposure to David Ireland and what made you want to direct his plays?

      Before Yes So I Said Yes, I’d directed The End of Hope at Soho Theatre which was a lovely show. I had come across it after seeing Cyprus Avenue at the Royal Court Upstairs. My response to David’s writing was completely different to anything else I’d ever seen. His characters get pissed off about the same sort of things that I get angry about. I don’t come from Northern Ireland and I don’t share the same history as many of David’s characters but on some level I strongly identify with them.

      Matthew, were you familiar with David Ireland?
      He’s the best! I’m delighted he’s known now in London and that his work has travelled successfully. He was writing for the Lyric Theatre in Belfast when I was taking classes at the Drama Studio nearly ten years ago. I was hooked right away – I distinctly remember Can’t Forget About You was a breath of fresh air.

      David Ireland has previously said that he thinks he is only ever writing for a Belfast audience but his work clearly has wider resonance and success. In London, Not Now will be his third play at Finborough and the Royal Court staged Cyprus Avenue to great success. What do you think is behind his success?

      Max: David’s flair and insight are on a different level to the vast majority of playwrights working today. He’s a one off and that quality resonates with people, wherever they’re from. 

      Matthew: He doesn’t shy away from the darkness. Certainly with Cyprus Avenue. I think audiences everywhere crave a safe space to be challenged, and seeing the horrors we are capable of doing to each other. Not Now is a quieter piece, but the anger is similar.

      Did you know each other before coming together for Not Now, had you crossed paths socially or worked together previously?

      Max: They had not but I was aware of both Matthew and Stephen. I’m thrilled to be working with both of them.

      Matthew: Unfortunately not. Stephen’s brilliant to watch and learn from, and I’m excited for audiences to see what he’ll bring to Uncle Ray.

      How has the first week of rehearsals gone, are you discovering anything new about the text or characters now that you are together in the room?

      Max: Rehearsals have been very exciting. Reading Not Now only gives you a glimpse of the iceberg with regards to its depth. We’re several feet under sea level now. 

      Matthew: It stops being funny very quickly! For us I mean – the jokes are class but it’s all coming from a painful place. You’ve got to really go there a little to find the truth behind the words, which Max has been encouraging us to do. By the time we get it up and running, the audiences should be reminding us we’re in a comedy again.

      Matthew, as a Northern Irish actor and given some of the plays themes of identity, how does it feel to bring this to London? Is there a little extra joy or satisfaction in taking on a role where you are playing a Northern Irish character in a play by a Northern Irish playwright? 

      I think it’d be difficult to tackle this without the lived experience, which David obviously has. I’m excited for people’s response to the play. The identity question is clearly a frustrating one (as the text explores) which hit me hard personally at Drama School. I’m delighted to bring some of that into my performance, and for audiences to see the complexities unfold in a very immediate and intimate way.

      Many of our ET team list The Finborough as one of our favourite London venues, tell us a little about working with the team? Max, we believe this is your third production here, you must enjoy working with Finborough?

      Max: I think Neil (McPherson – Artistic Director, Finborough Theatre) is brave enough to program work that other Artistic Directors shy away from. It is heartening to know that Neil prioritises excellent writing above all other factors when programming the space. 

      Matthew: Everyone’s been fantastic. I’m very chuffed to be a part of the team, and to get onto the stage pronto. 

      Max, originally you were due to bring back Yes So I Said Yes after its successful run last year but some scheduling issues got in the way. Was there a sudden ‘oh s**t’ moment when you realised you won’t be able to go ahead?

      Yes there was an ‘oh shit’ moment. It was very sad and it made me want to run away and start applying for jobs in the civil service. 
      There are many good days working in theatre and those of us able to do it should consider ourselves very lucky but the bad days can be really very miserable. That said, out of the ashes has come the opportunity to work on a play that I loved the first time I read it so the Department of Digital, Culture, Media and Sport will have to wait until at least the new year.

      Tell us what you each have coming up after Not Now finishes? 

      Max: I’m directing a version of The Government Inspector by Nikolai Gogol at St Mary’s University, which I’m very excited about. Gogol characters can be truly repulsive but there’s something very clear and true about the way they act that I find very funny. 

      Beyond this I’ll be returning to my day job of repeatedly emailing Artistic Directors and Producers to assure them that I do indeed “hope they’re well” and am available for coffee at 1 hours notice.

      Matthew: I’m going to be doing a few nights at The Hope Theatre next year in January with a new play called The Best Pints by Jack Gallagher. He’s also a brilliant writer from back home and that’ll be nice to kick start the new year for sure.

      You can follow Not Now Play on Twitter. Our thanks to Max and Matt for taking the time to talk to us. Our thanks also to 19th Street Productions and credit to Lidia Crisafulli for the rehearsal photos.

      Not Now plays at Finborough Theatre from 1 November to 26 November. Tickets and further information can be found here. More

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      in Television

      Lisa McGee Found it Hard to Say Goodbye to Her ‘Derry Girls’

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      The Northern Irish writer said that she had never felt so close to a group of characters. Now, the show’s third and final season is arriving on Netflix.LONDON — In 1990s Northern Ireland, Lisa McGee and her friends decided to skip school to go to a concert. They were caught when one of the group posed for a photograph at the event, which then ended up on the front page of a local newspaper and was seen by her parents.“I’ll never forget that story because of how delighted my friend was in that photograph compared to the trouble she got in. It was just the perfect contrast,” McGee, 42, recalled in a recent video interview. She added: “I remember her saying it was worth it. I think she got grounded for life.”That was just one of many childhood experiences McGee drew on for her TV comedy, “Derry Girls,” which follows a group of chaotic and accident-prone friends and their families. The show, while joyous, is set during the Troubles — the violent, decades-long sectarian conflict that defined the region until the late ’90s.Like her characters, McGee attended a Roman Catholic school in Derry, and, like the show’s central figure, Erin, she grew up wanting to be a writer. The third and final season of “Derry Girls” arrives Friday on Netflix after airing in Britain this year, and McGee admitted that she had been struggling to let go.“I was connected to those characters in a way that I think is probably not entirely healthy,” she said. She kept notebooks filled with details for each of them, she added, and even now, lines for the characters still come to her. “It was really hard to stop talking to them,” she said.In the recent interview, McGee discussed growing up in Derry, which is also known as Londonderry; the joys of being ridiculous; and bringing the show to a close. These are edited excerpts from that conversation.When did you realize your childhood could be fodder for a show?When I moved to London, there were a few of my Northern Irish friends that moved over at the same time. And I remember being out in the pub and talking about stuff that happened to us and there was just horror on English people’s faces. We normalize this stuff that English people were like, “That’s not normal, lads, that’s weird.” I realized there’s something really funny about this, that this little pocket, this little place has normalized all this crazy stuff.I’d always felt that my group of friends at school were funny, and I’d always wanted to write something about a group of female teenagers who were the leads and were being the ridiculous people, not just the “friend” or “sister.”You’ve said in the past that, growing up, you didn’t want to write about the Troubles. What changed for you?Well, the truth is, I wasn’t going to. I was going to set the show in the modern day and it was actually my executive producer, Liz Lewin, who had been in pubs with me and my friends, listening to all these stories and said, “You’re really missing a trick, I really think you should try and do a period piece.” I just thought it was a headache, it’s too complicated, people wouldn’t understand. But I’m so glad she convinced me because the minute I started writing it, it gave me the chance to explain some things, and talk about some things that maybe people in the rest of the U.K. didn’t know about.But yeah, I just found the Troubles so boring. It was all that was on the news and I wanted to be a writer because I liked the escape, the fantasy of it all. So I still can’t believe this is the thing that has been the most successful thing for me.The show’s central character, Erin (played by Jackson), right, wants to be a writer, like the show’s creator.Hat Trick Productions and NetflixThe stars and heart of the show are the women and girls. How influential were the women you grew up around, what were they like?When I went to university, I realized Derry was different from all other places. The women, traditionally, were the breadwinners because it was a factory town and, apart from shirt factories, there wasn’t any other employment really, so a lot of the men were unemployed. So we grew up in this sort of weird society where the dads were looking after the kids and the mums were going to work.I also went to an all-girls convent school, so the cleverest person was a girl, the sports hero was a girl, the class clown was a girl. Growing up, everyone who was powerful or interesting or funny was female. I never questioned that we should be those things when I grew up, because women were very rock ’n’ roll where I came from, very forthright and very funny and ballsy and tough. That’s what I knew, and it only started to sort of fall apart when I grew up a bit.On “Derry Girls,” the girls aren’t aged up or put in particularly adult situations. They are ridiculous and embarrassing in ways that feel very true to teenagers. Was that a conscious choice?Part of it was just that was what was truthful — I was that ridiculous person. It was definitely a conscious decision for them not to be sexualized. I feel that’s the story that’s told over and over again about teenage girls. I always felt like, yes, that’s part of it, but our panic about not getting good grades was up there along with what boys we wanted to get with. Our ambition was one of the biggest things about my group of friends, that panic about failing or not getting into university, not getting a good job, all that sort of stuff. There was also the importance of your relationship with your other friends, that gang, that group, how important their opinions were.As young people, how present were the dangers of the Troubles for you and your friends?Now, looking back, you really lose your breath thinking about how dangerous things were, but we weren’t really scared. Not really. But we should have been. There were armed soldiers on our streets, outside our houses and lots of other gunmen in balaclavas floating about on the other side of things. It’s what you know; we didn’t overthink it. It actually, weirdly, started to really affect me and my friends after the Good Friday Agreement. When peace times started, we realized that what happened wasn’t OK, and there was a hope that things wouldn’t go back to the way they were.The realities of the violence were so dark, yet “Derry Girls” maintained a lightness. How did you think about the show’s tone?I always just thought about it through their eyes, how they would see it. For most teenagers, their views are very selfish, it’s like, “How can I make this about me?” and for the adults, it’s just a bit of an inconvenience most of the time, as it would have been.There’s a line in an episode where Michelle says there’s something sexy about the fact they hate us so much. Everything has its spin. So Michelle’s always thinking about sex, and Erin, quite a pompous character, loves the idea of it and writes about being a child of conflict and all of that.What I decided was that most of the story has to be about whatever the gang are trying to do that week, with the Troubles normally getting in the way of it.The show ends on an episode set around the time of the 1998 Good Friday agreement, and the declaration of peace. Why did you choose that as the show’s end point?I feel like that was the day Northern Ireland grew up, that vote and that phenomenal, phenomenal thing. That was the day we put all the pain and suffering behind us for the greater good. And I wanted to run that parallel to the kids’ growing up. It’s the beginning of their adulthood, just as Northern Ireland is walking into this new phase of its life. It always felt like that’s where I should naturally end the show, this hope and the positivity of the agreement and them going out into the big, bad world. More

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      in Music

      How Kneecap Is Pioneering Irish-Language Rap

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      The trio Kneecap is pioneering Irish-language rap, a genre that barely existed a decade ago.BELFAST, Northern Ireland — On a recent evening in a small, rowdy, West Belfast bar, Mo Chara and Móglaí Bap, two members of the rap group Kneecap, were posing for photographs with fans. One of the bar’s patrons, tapping out a text message nearby, called out to the rappers, “How do you spell ‘ceart go leor’?” an Irish phrase meaning something like “OK.”It might seem like a weird question for hip-hop artists, but Kneecap’s members should know. They have found fame here in a genre they are pioneering: Irish-language rap.Since 2017, when Kneecap released “CEARTA” (the Irish word for “rights”), the band’s popularity has been growing on both sides of Ireland’s internal border and among the diaspora across the Irish Sea. The band’s signature blend of ramshackle rave and rudimentary hip-hop beats, mixed with republican politics — in the Irish sense of seeking unity for the island’s north and south — has brought Kneecap sold-out gigs in Belfast and Dublin, and a growing fan base in England and Scotland.Even a decade ago, the notion of Irish-language rap seemed fantastical. But something is happening in Ireland — north and south — which lately finds itself in the midst of a so-called Celtic revival, with questions of identity, place and culture being interrogated across the arts, politics, fashion and even spirituality.The Irish language is central to this resurgence. The dominance of English in Ireland is a legacy of British colonization, stretching to the 12th century. English became the language of opportunity, progress and employment, and Irish came to be seen as incompatible with modern life. But people carried on speaking Irish in some pockets of the island, and a boom in Irish-language schools from the 1970s raised new generations that viewed the language with pride and enthusiasm rather than shame and resistance.D.J. Próvaí showing a photo of his father’s arrest during the Bloody Sunday uprising of 1972.Paulo Nunes dos Santos for The New York TimesRepublican murals in the Falls Road district of Belfast.Paulo Nunes dos Santos for The New York TimesKneecap’s signature style blends ramshackle rave and rudimentary hip-hop beats with republican politics.Paulo Nunes dos Santos for The New York TimesKneecap was born out of an Irish-speaking west Belfast squat, whose all-night parties featured both techno and traditional Irish music on the sound system. “We felt there was something bubbling, and we wanted to represent that,” Móglaí Bap said.“Irish language and culture doesn’t necessarily have to be an image of rural traditional music,” Mo Chara said. “It can involve youth culture.”Kneecap’s lyrics feature republican slang and slogans — often used in a tongue-in-cheek manner — that have stirred controversy in Northern Ireland. D.J. Próvaí, the third band member, said he left a job as an Irish teacher in 2020 after his school objected to a Kneecap video in which an anti-British slogan — “Brits out” — appears drawn on his buttocks.“Republicanism is so vast, and on a spectrum,” Móglaí Bap said in an interview. “We like to toy with it. We like to take the irony on, and also not be dictated about what kind of republicanism we’re going to believe in.”Frequent references to taking drugs in the band’s lyrics have placed Kneecap at odds with republican dissidents, many of whom have a zero-tolerance policy toward drug use. (The band’s name comes from a form of torture that republican paramilitary groups would inflict on those they accused of drug dealing.) “We’re screaming about the ‘Ra,” Móglaí Bap said, using a familiar name for the Irish Republican Army, “even though the ‘Ra would probably shoot us for doing all of these sort of things.”Not all artists embracing the Irish language are motivated by politics, however: Often, it is as much about rediscovering the past as reckoning with the present. In summer 2020, Manchán Magan, a writer and broadcaster, published “32 Words for Field,” a catalog of lost words to describe the Irish landscape. The book recalled ancient Irish terms like “scim,” which can mean a thin coating of particles, like dust on a shelf, “but it can also mean a fairy film that covers the land, or a magical vision, or succumbing to the supernatural world through sleep,” Magan writes.“32 Words for Field” was an instant cult hit, and it became a mainstream one. Its initial print run sold out in pre-orders before it reached bookstores.Magan said the recent boom in Irish-language creativity was part of a continuing search for an Irish identity, unshackled from colonialism and Catholicism. “What we’re trying to do is rooting ourselves back to — not nationalism, but those things that came before the nation,” he said in an interview. “Connection with the spirit, or some sort of universal mythology, all of those things that bring us together, that make us realize we’re united.”Catherine Clinch, left, and Carrie Crowley in a scene from “The Quiet Girl,” an Irish-language movie that won two honors at this year’s Berlin International Film Festival. InscéalIn Irish-language cinema, barely a genre a few years ago, the latest hit is “The Quiet Girl” (“An Cailín Ciúin”), which last month won two honors at the Berlin International Film Festival, and this month beat the Academy Award-nominated “Belfast” to win best film at the Irish Film and Television Academy Awards. Adapted from a 2010 short story in The New Yorker by Claire Keegan, “The Quiet Girl” was partly funded by an initiative called Cine4, run by the Irish-language television station, TG4.The film’s writer-director, Colm Bairéad, said he looked forward to the film being screened around Europe, when audiences would hear “the Irish language bouncing around these auditoriums where the language just hasn’t been heard throughout the history of the medium.”Cleona Ní Chrualaoí, the producer of “The Quiet Girl,” said the current resurgence of Irish-language creativity was, in part, because of people who went through the Irish-language school system. “That has really helped our positive relationship with the language,” she said. “We have generations of children, who have become adults who really respect the language.”Móglaí Bap said Kneecap’s members came from “probably the first generation coming out of the Irish-language education system that developed their own sense of identity within the language.” For the band, rapping in Irish wasn’t just about lyricism, or even identity, Mo Chara said. It offered, he added, “a completely different understanding of the culture, and even of reality around you.”“We found this wee niche,” Móglaí Bap said. “The language is a way for us to bring people with us.”Kneecap has played sold-out gigs in Belfast and Dublin, and has a growing fan base in England and Scotland.Paulo Nunes dos Santos for The New York Times More

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      in Music

      Northern Ireland’s Health Minister Is Suing Van Morrison Over Covid Criticism

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      Northern Ireland’s health minister has sued Van Morrison, who has said the minister’s handling of Covid-19 restrictions was “very dangerous.”Paul Tweed, the lawyer for the health minister, Robin Swann, confirmed on Monday that a lawsuit had been filed.“Legal proceedings are now at an advanced stage, with an anticipated hearing date early in 2022,” Mr. Tweed said in an email, adding that he could not comment “any further at this stage.” The Belfast Telegraph reported the lawsuit on Sunday.Joe Rice, a lawyer for Mr. Morrison, did not immediately respond to a request for comment on Monday. He told The Associated Press that Mr. Morrison would contest the claim, arguing “that the words used by him related to a matter of public interest and constituted fair comment.”In June, Mr. Morrison denounced Mr. Swann from the stage at the Europa Hotel in Belfast after several other concerts were canceled because of virus restrictions.Mr. Morrison, 76, who was born in Belfast and was knighted in 2016, has dismissed the coronavirus pandemic — the death toll for which surpassed five million people last week — as media hype and has criticized Covid-19 restrictions though his music.In the fall of 2020, as another wave of the pandemic raged, Mr. Morrison released three protest songs that criticized the measures that Northern Ireland’s government had taken to slow the spread of the virus. One song, “No More Lockdown,” claimed that scientists were “making up crooked facts” about the virus.At the time, Mr. Swann called the songs “dangerous” in an interview with BBC Radio Ulster.“I don’t know where he gets his facts,” Mr. Swann said of the songs. “I know where the emotions are on this, but I will say that sort of messaging is dangerous.”The songs also prompted Mr. Swann to write an opinion article for Rolling Stone in which he said that Mr. Morrison’s “words will give great comfort to the conspiracy theorists.”In August, Mr. Morrison dropped a legal challenge against a “blanket ban” on live music in licensed venues in Northern Island, according to the BBC. As Northern Ireland eased Covid-19 restrictions, live music was allowed to resume.Mr. Morrison welcomed the news at the time but also said he was disappointed that he had to cancel some concerts in Belfast over the summer.In May, Mr. Morrison, who is known for hits like “Brown Eyed Girl” and “Moondance,” released a double album, “Latest Record Project, Vol. 1.” The album, including the songs “Why Are You on Facebook?” and “They Control the Media,” has been assailed by critics who have accused Mr. Morrison of antisemitism and embracing conspiracy theories. More