Calderdale Wind Farm Limited (CWFL) said its Development Consent Order application for Calderdale Energy Park on Walshaw Moor, previously expected in November 2026, will now be submitted in July 2027.

Reacting to the news on Facebook, Calderdale Windfarm Action Group said: "CWFL have now admitted their peat landslide hazard and risk assessment was wrong."

The developer says the revised timetable followed a review of responses to its statutory consultation which identified “a number of matters requiring further consideration”.

Christian Egal, project director, said: “We’re grateful to everyone who took the time to take part in the statutory consultation. The feedback we received has been invaluable, and it’s clear that some areas need more work before we’re in a position to submit.

“Taking this extra time is the right thing to do. It means we can complete the further assessments needed, refine the design and submit the most robust application possible.” (Callum Cuddeford)

A delay to a planned wind farm in Bronte Country could spell the end of the project, campaigners have said. [...]

Nick Mackinnon, from Stronger Together to Stop Calderdale Wind Farm, said while the project had been forced to pause because of safety concerns around the land, the campaign was not yet over.

The developers would have needed to transport heavy machinery and turbines along a half-mile (1km) long path near Crow Hill, which has a history of bog bursts – one of which nearly killed famous 19th Century author Emily Bronte when she was six years old.

Mackinnon explained: "They knew there had been instability on Crow Hill but they had concluded it had all finished in 1824.

"That bog burst was absolutely colossal. The effects were felt in Leeds – they had to turn off the reservoir pumps at Leeds – and you could still see the peat stain in the Humber."

But Mackinnon said he believed those connected to the project were unaware there had also been a "huge bog burst" in 1989.

"It is the only place in mainland UK where bog bursts happen and they're vast," he said.

"They are between 100,000 and one million tonnes and it all comes down at the speed of pressurised water, so they're explosions," he explained.

"There's been at least eight and they're spread over two centuries." (Grace Wood and Callum Cuddeford)

Ruth Wilson takes to the material with a zeal that will particularly delight those who know her from “proper” literary adaptations like Jane Eyre and Anna Karenina. (Brogan Luke Bouwhuis)

Victorian Psycho, despite its in-period aspect, isn’t Jane Eyre. (John Kirk)

“Wuthering Heights”

Emily Brontë’s “Wuthering Heights” is commonly referred to as the “greatest love story of all time.” But, while it is fundamentally a love story, it also functions as a tale of obsession, revenge and generational trauma. Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff, as well as other characters within the novel, are extremely complex and unlikable, reminding us that love can be twisted and depraved. So when Emerald Fennell announced her 2026 adaptation of Brontë’s novel, fans of “Wuthering Heights” were skeptical, to say the least. How could one possibly portray the intricate details and complexities depicted on the pages?

One of the biggest criticisms of the film was Fennell’s casting of Jacob Elordi, a white man, to play Heathcliff. Considering that a large part of the novel is centered around the racial “othering” of Heathcliff, which plays a significant role in his storyline, viewers expected to see similar themes explored in the adaptation. Not only was Heathcliff’s race erased, but his complicated relationship with Cathy was simplified to an overly emotional relationship, completely disregarding the abuse and trauma tainting their story. The nail in the coffin was the film being promoted as a “friends-to-lovers” trope prior to its release.

Even so, “Wuthering Heights” is exactly what Fennell intended it to be; she never claimed to make a faithful retelling of Brontë’s novel. If anything, she expressed her desire to create a work that reflected her personal experience with “Wuthering Heights”: reading it for the first time when she was 14. So if this is a feeling you’d also like to relive, you may just find what you’re looking for in this film. For anyone interested, however, in watching an honest and thoughtful adaptation — look elsewhere. (Meagan Ismail and Lorenzo Norbis)

Among the newcomers is Teresa Flavin, whose work caught David’s eye at the Brontë Birthplace in Haworth. A former lecturer at Leeds Arts University, Teresa is an artist, illustrator and author. Her mixed-media paintings draw on history, folklore, fashion and landscapes, combining rich colour and texture.

Her lyrical depictions of imagined Victorian women bring together representational imagery and expressive abstraction. Inspired by Victorian fashion plates discovered in Leeds City Libraries’ Special Collections, Teresa’s paintings give their subjects a personality of their own. “My current paintings have been inspired by real-life Victorian women such as the Brontë sisters and their world,” she explains. (David Starley)

   

The eccentric Pear is back to its entertaining tricks, thanks to Sarah Gordon’s 2024 play, “Underdog: The Other Other Brontë,” which takes a highly irreverent look at the three Brontë sisters. The outcome is a fun and spellbinding evening, laced with metaphysical side trips that will leave your brain buzzing. [...]

The most delicious thing about the play is that Gordon doesn’t stop there. She takes great, occasionally absurd liberties, primarily that of having the sisters converse in modern English, complete with jarring, casual obscenities. She also throws in the occasional anachronism, such as the interview that Charlotte conducts with the BBC.

This sense of freefall allows the story to focus on the many power geometries, the ones between the authors and the hostile male world, the authors and their troublesome family, and the growing troubles between the sisters.

Douglas has the perfect attitudinal range for Charlotte, who even in her more festive moments radiates ambitious intensity. Charlotte seems to be the most successful of the three, but she constantly spoils it by wanting more, and more, and more. It’s not enough to be an admired writer; she wants to be the toast of London, and then to be loved for her true self.

Naomi Murray plays middle sister Emily with a great and free energy, more than willing to call out big sister on her faults. She’s also just hilarious, and perhaps the only sister who’s actually happy with herself.

The heart of the play goes through Anne, and Aleisha Lew’s performance reveals a baby sister with a slippery identity. Constantly called “the mouse,” she may actually be the most courageous of the three. Her sisters scold her for basing her book “The Tenant of Wildfell Hall” on their own embarrassing household, but really she’s using it to address the oppression of women that permeates British society. The criticism that comes after the publication of her “scandalous” book hits her empathic heart with great force. But this kind of criticism is the surest sign that she’s ahead of her times and, also, doing the exact right thing.

If the Brontë sisters were Muses, perhaps they would be Ambition, Passion and Sincerity, all crammed into one small household. The second act uses these qualities, and the magnifying element of success, to offer one sticky confrontation after another. Thanks to playwright Gordon and the work of director Wynne Chan, these scenes are sanctified by awkward silence, and operate within metaphysical stage zones. These powerful moments are the ones that will remain with you after the applause.

The rest of England is portrayed by a six-pack of supporting players who display great versatility. Keith Larson provides an important symbol of the Outside World in the person of Charlotte’s publisher, Smith. Dan C. creates a few reckless moments as the unstable brother Branwell and a memorable cameo as Charles Dickens hiding behind a potted plant. Bibliophiles in the audience will love the elaborate writing books and quills, and the books hanging from the rafters. I also enjoyed production designer Qian Zhang’s floor projections of the authors’ words as they wrote significant passages. (Michael J. Vaughn)

   

The last showing I attended was of a contemporary adaptation of Wuthering Heights, which very much reminded me of an assignment I had in high school to modernize scenes from Othello. A group of elderly patrons sat a few rows ahead of me, and seemed taken aback by the vertical nature of what they were about to watch. (Perhaps they saw a showing for Wuthering Heights listed somewhere and bought tickets.) Before the film started, they flagged down one of the theater attendants to ask about the Alza Festival information shown on-screen; the slides highlighted vertical storytelling and one of the sponsors, the app Verza TV. After the attendant dutifully explained what microdramas were, one of the patrons asked incredulously: “How does that apply to television?” It was a reminder that, as much hype as this slice of the entertainment industry gins up for itself, vertical dramas haven’t proved they’re more than a way to make a quick buck. (Elise Hannum)