From rock legends to climate costs: how culture and environment collide in the UK
As Suzi Quatro fights for Hall of Fame recognition and Brazil’s wind farms expose hidden costs, UK artists and policymakers grapple with climate realities—through theatre, film, and hard choices.
The rock hall’s blind spot: why Suzi Quatro still waits
At 76, Suzi Quatro’s exclusion from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame isn’t just a snub—it’s a pattern. The Detroit-born, UK-based bassist, whose 1973 hit Can the Can defined glam rock, told The Guardian this week that her omission feels “crazy,” though she’s in “good company” (read: fellow women and non-American acts). Quatro’s frustration underscores a broader debate about who gets remembered in music history. Her case isn’t just about gender or geography; it’s about how institutions gatekeep legacy. The Hall of Fame’s voting body, dominated by U.S. industry insiders, has long favoured artists with stateside chart dominance—a metric Quatro, whose career thrived in Europe and Australia, never prioritised. Her new album, Freedom, interpolates The Girl Can’t Help It, a sly nod to the constraints she’s spent a lifetime defying. The question isn’t whether Quatro deserves recognition—it’s why the industry’s arbiters of “rock royalty” still struggle to see beyond their own borders.
Ageing performers and the stage’s cruel calculus
Two productions this week lay bare the tension between artistic longevity and audience expectations. At St Andrews’ Byre Theatre, Revel by Company Chordelia turns the aches of ageing dancers into a meditation on when to quit. Co-creator Kally Lloyd-Jones, a veteran of Scottish dance, stages warm-up routines that double as metaphors for life’s second acts. Meanwhile, at Theatre Royal Bath, Kneehigh’s Tristan & Yseult—first staged in 2003—returns with its signature mix of circus mayhem and medieval tragedy. The show’s enduring appeal raises uncomfortable questions: Is there a “right” age to stop performing? And who decides? Both productions suggest the answer lies in redefining what performance can be. Lloyd-Jones and her collaborator Steinvör Palsson, a 60-something choreographer, prove that physical decline doesn’t equate to creative irrelevance. But their work also exposes the industry’s ageism—where older bodies are often treated as novelties, not norms.
Brazil’s wind farms: green energy’s hidden toll
While the UK debates its own renewable rollout, Brazil’s wind energy boom offers a cautionary tale. The country’s northeast, home to 90% of its wind capacity, has become a testing ground for the trade-offs of “clean” power. Antonio de Souza, a farmer in Rio Grande do Norte, saw his cashew trees felled to make way for transmission lines—part of a £20bn infrastructure push that’s left local communities bearing the costs. The Guardian’s investigation reveals a paradox: wind farms, hailed as climate solutions, are disrupting livelihoods in ways that mirror fossil fuel extraction. Cattle can’t graze near power lines; crops wither under their shadow. Yet the benefits—cheaper energy, reduced emissions—flow elsewhere. Brazil’s government calls the region the “Saudi Arabia of green energy,” but for residents like de Souza, it’s a raw deal. The UK, which imports Brazilian wind-generated electricity, faces its own reckoning: how to balance climate goals with justice for the communities that host renewable projects.
The climate on screen: from Elsinore to concrete docs
Two films this week frame climate realities through radically different lenses. Andrew Scott’s Oscar-tipped turn in Elsinore—a biopic of actor Ian Charleson—has reignited conversations about queer representation in awards. Scott, who played a gay man in All of Us Strangers, could become the first openly gay best actor winner, a milestone that underscores how far Hollywood has (and hasn’t) come. Meanwhile, documentarian John Wilson’s new film about concrete—yes, concrete—exposes the material’s environmental toll. Wilson’s signature deadpan style turns a mundane subject into a meditation on urban decay and sustainability. His collaboration with New York mayor Zohran Mamdani on sidewalk sheds (those ubiquitous construction barriers) hints at how policy and art can intersect. Both films reflect a cultural shift: climate isn’t just a backdrop anymore; it’s the story.
What to watch: the week’s cultural crossroads
Three moments this week crystallise the collision of culture and environment:
- Oktoberfest’s carbon footprint: Munich’s 191st beer festival opened with the usual lederhosen and sauerkraut—but also with new scrutiny over its environmental impact. A 2023 study found the event emits 1,500 tonnes of CO₂ annually, mostly from travel and meat consumption. This year, organisers have introduced “climate-neutral” beer tents, but critics say it’s greenwashing. The festival’s dilemma mirrors the UK’s own: how to preserve tradition while cutting emissions.
- Patrick Hamilton’s London, then and now: Twenty Thousand Streets Under the Sky, a stage adaptation of Hamilton’s 1930s novels, condenses his trilogy about lonely Londoners into a single play. The production’s power lies in its timelessness—characters trapped by class and circumstance, much like today’s city dwellers priced out of housing. Hamilton’s London was a city of pubs and precarity; the 2026 version is one of gig work and climate anxiety. The play asks: how much has really changed?
- Jonathan Franzen’s TV reckoning: HBO’s long-awaited adaptation of The Corrections finally arrives, eight years after Franzen’s cartwheel of relief when the project was shelved. The author, now 67, admits he “didn’t know how to do TV” during the initial attempt. His candour about creative failure—and the industry’s obsession with adapting novels—speaks to a broader cultural moment. As streaming platforms chase “prestige” content, Franzen’s struggle highlights the gap between literary ambition and screen reality.
The takeaway: culture as climate’s mirror
This week’s stories reveal a truth: culture doesn’t just reflect the climate crisis—it grapples with the same contradictions. Suzi Quatro’s Hall of Fame snub and Brazil’s wind farm trade-offs both expose systems that reward some while exploiting others. The UK’s own renewable energy plans, from offshore wind to tidal projects, will need to confront these tensions. Meanwhile, artists like Lloyd-Jones and Wilson are redefining what it means to create in an era of limits—whether those limits are physical, environmental, or institutional. The question isn’t whether culture can drive change, but how honestly it can face the costs.