Friday, August 21, 2026

'The Oresteia' by Simon Stone, after Aeschylus & Others

21 August 2026

On Thursday we were at the Bridge Theatre in London to see a new production of 'The Oresteia', written and directed by Simon Stone "After Aeschylus & Others". 'The Oresteia' by Aeschylus is the only surviving ancient Greek trilogy of three connected plays. Recounting the murder of King Agamemnon by his wife Clytemnestra in revenge for his sacrifice of their daughter Iphigenia - followed, in turn, by their son Orestes avenging the death of his father by executing Clytemnestra and her lover. (According to Professor Edith Hall, writing in the Theatre Programme, the Oresteia was in fact a tetralogy. The fourth play, now lost to us, was a rumbustious satyr drama, with the chorus changing into hairy body suits with animal hooves.) The Australian writer and director Simon Stone comes to 'The Oresteia' having developed a reputation for re-workings of classics, from 'Medea' and 'Phaedra' to Ibsen's 'Wild Duck' and 'The Lady from the Sea'. We saw his version of Lorca's 'Yerma', starring Billy Piper, in 2017 (reviewed here in September 2017), in a modern setting in which the characters were encased in an enormous glass box that filled the stage. Stone's technique involves building the script through rehearsals, drawing inspiration from his cast's work. The first thing that strikes you about the Oresteia is the incredible set by Lizzie Clachan - an almost life-size two-storey house on a massive revolving stage, allowing the audience to peer through floor-to-ceiling windows into a giant doll's house, revealing the trauma going on in Agamemnon's family. As with the glass box from 'Yerma' (also designed by Lizzie Clachan), the glass windows of the house mean we can only hear the actors through their microphones: there is one scene with a character throwing boxes around a bedroom where we can hear what he is saying but the colliding props are eerily silent to us. Unfortunately some of the witty crosstalk in the early scenes is hard to follow because the detail of the characters speaking over each other is not distinct enough through the microphones. Stone uses the modern day setting to skip backwards and forwards through the tragic events spanning 2016 to 2026, gradually piecing together the story of murder and revenge. This creates a gripping narrative structure for the drama and makes much better use of the principal actors than having them play no further part after their murders. David Morrissey plays Christopher ('Agamemnon') and Mary Louise-Parker his wife Montie ('Clytemnestra') with Tom Glyn-Carney as their son Augie ('Orestes') and Rosie Sheehy as their daughter Alice ('Electra'). We last saw Sheehy stealing the show in 'The Brightening Air' by Conor McPherson at the Old Vic (reviewed here in May 2025). It's a spectacular and intriguing production that teeters between angst-ridden tragedy, black comedy and grand guignol, but I'm not sure it entirely works. The test of any modern reworking of Greek tragedy should be whether, by the end, we believe that these events would have driven these modern characters to commit the heinous acts they do. When we saw Mike Bartlett's new version of 'Medea' at Watford Palace Theatre in 2012 (reviewed here in November 2012), he did succeed in making us believe that Rachael Sterling's Medea would have murdered her children. But while Simon Stone's 'Oresteia' definitely showed the extreme emotional strain of each of the protagonists, I wasn't totally convinced that in its modern setting this would have led to the slaughter we witnessed. And by abandoning the chronological sequence of events of the three original plays, there's really no reason to present it in three acts with two intervals: it felt a little indulgent at three and a half hours long. Nevertheless, it's a very well-acted, inventive and visually stunning production. 

Monday, August 17, 2026

'He Should Have Died Hereafter' and 'An English Murder' by Cyril Hare

17 August 2026

Having enjoyed my first Cyril Hare detective novel, 'When the Wind Blows' (reviewed here in July 2026), I have now devoured two more of his books. 'He Should Have Died Hereafter', published in 1958, again features the retired lawyer Francis Pettigrew (whose wife played in the amateur orchestra in 'When the Wind Blows' and who is the protagonist of a series of five murder mysteries by Cyril Hare). In 'He Should Have Died Hereafter' Pettigrew joins forces with the retired Inspector Mallet (who himself appears in seven Hare novels) to solve a mysterious death on Exmoor. 'An English Murder' published in 1951 (based on a 1948 radio play by Cyril Hare, 'Murder at Warbeck Hall') is a quintessential country house murder mystery in the style of Agatha Christie, with guests gathered for a family Christmas and the house cut off from the rest of the world by snow. It feels like it comes from a previous era with its cast of aristocrats and a very polite butler, but is actually set during the early years of the post-war Labour government. I don't know whether the three books I've read are a representative sample of the works of Cyril Hare but they certainly have some common recurring themes to their plots. Nevertheless, all three have been very readable, funny and clever, while revealing some interesting social history details.

Thursday, August 13, 2026

'Absolutely on Music' by Haruki Murakami and Seiji Ozawa

13 August 2026

I first discovered the Japanese writer Haruki Murakami through David Mitchell, whose novel 'number9dream' (a favourite of mine) was heavily influenced by Murakami's 'The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle'. Murakami novels are usually set in contemporary real-world Japan, into which magical realism starts to intrude. In my reviews here I have often noted Murakami's references to Western classical music (for example in my favourite Murakami novel 'Kafka on the Shore', reviewed here in October 2006). In ‘Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World’ (reviewed here in September 2017) the characters discuss the merits of various different recordings of the ‘Brandenburg Concertos’. In ‘1Q84’ (reviewed here in April 2012) Murakami provides expert analysis of the music of Janáček. And in 'Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage' (reviewed here in September 2014) a discussion of a recording of Franz Liszt’s 'Le Mal du Pays' by the Russian pianist Lazar Berman led to copies of Berman's CD becoming sold out almost immediately after the publication of Murakami’s novel. I am very grateful to Adriana Marques for giving me a copy of 'Absolutely on Music' - a book of conversations that took place in 2010 and 2011 between Haruki Murakami and the eminent Japanese conductor Seiji Ozawa. The book is mostly an edited transcript of the conversations, with a few added notes by Murakami, and I loved it. While clearly knowledgeable about classical music, Murakami does not play an instrument. So my experience of playing in orchestras gave me a level of understanding somewhere between Murakami and Ozawa, making this book perfect for me. Their conversations start with Ozawa recollecting a 1962 performance of the Brahms Piano Concerto no. 1 by Glenn Gould with Leonard Bernstein conducting the New York Philharmonic. Before the performance Bernstein turned to the audience and briefly announced that they were about to play the concerto according to Mr Gould's interpretation, with which he did not agree. This anecdote had me hooked from the start. And when Murakami and Ozawa started to listen to and compare six different recordings of Beethoven's 3rd Piano Concerto, and I realised that all six versions were available on Spotify so I could listen along (with Murakami helpfully providing timestamps for the particular passages they referred to) I knew I was really going to enjoy sitting in on their discussions. As well as concertos they talk about symphonies, operas, string quartets and more. Ozawa is particularly interesting on the job of a conductor and the enjoyment of score-reading. It was also a fascinating coincidence that the book refers to Ozawa conducting the premiere in 1983 of Messiaen's opera 'Saint Francois d'Assise', which was formed one section of the book 'Four Last Songs' by Linda Hutcheon and Michael Hutcheon that I read in July (reviewed here in July 2026). I might have been fortunate to be the perfect audience for 'Absolutely on Music' but I really enjoyed it and it has led me on to listening to and playing many of the pieces they discussed.

Tuesday, August 11, 2026

'George R. R. Martin's Game of Thrones: The Mad King' adapted by Duncan Macmillan

11 August 2026

Arriving at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon on Monday to see the first stage show based on George R. R. Martin's 'Game of Thrones' novels felt like proper event theatre. Firstly, we all had to have 'Game of Thrones' branded stickers placed over the cameras of our smartphones to emphasise the strict no filming or photography rule. Secondly, the audience weren't allowed into the auditorium until a few minutes before the start of the play. And thirdly, the inside of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre has been completely transformed for this production, with much of the seating moved from its normal position, to allow the usual thrust stage to be narrowed and extended into a cruciform platform stretching the full length and width of the auditorium. With additional seating placed on three levels on what is usually one end of the stage, the theatre has become a spectacular immersive space for a performance in the round. Unfortunately, this meant that the seats we had chosen, which were marked as having a restricted view, were not the RST's usual 'restricted view', requiring you to peer slightly around a pillar, but were completely restricted by a newly inserted wall that prevented us seeing anything happening at one end of the stage. There were three moments during the play where it was hard to follow important plot developments because we genuinely had no idea who was speaking. Duncan Macmillan's play, 'Game of Thrones: The Mad King', is a prequel to 'A Game of Thrones' - the book that formed the start of the HBO TV series. The play concerns the final days of the reign of Aerys II Targaryen - the Mad King of the title. The plot draws on references in several George R. R. Martin books to events in this period and features the younger versions of several characters familiar to audiences of the TV series. The play works as a standalone story but I think it would be incredibly hard to follow if you weren't familiar with the books or the TV series. I'm glad we had re-familiarised ourselves with the world of Westeros by reading a brief synopsis before seeing the play. Dominic Cook's Royal Shakespeare Company production is spectacular, boasting a cast of 36 and lasting nearly four hours. it's interesting that it uses very little modern technology. Like 'Harry Potter and the Cursed Child' (reviewed here in August 2025), it relies more on old-fashioned stagecraft. In particular the puppetry, by Nick Barnes, creates amazing life-size metallic horses, similar to those pioneered by 'War Horse' (reviewed here in October 2015). Chloe Lamford's set features two 'wow' moments - a brilliant realisation of a sacred heart tree in the godswood, with the trunk rising from beneath the stage to mesh with the branches being lowered from above: and the thrilling emergence from under the stage of the infamous Iron Throne. George R. R. Martin's stories have always had quite a Shakespearean feel to them and it's interesting to see the Royal Shakespeare Company taking on this modern giant of fantasy fiction. So it was funny that like some of the Shakespeare history plays, an already complicated plot became additionally confusing with the introduction, late in the play, of characters who hadn't appeared until that point but seemed necessary to link this prequel to the familiar stories that follow. The whole initial run of the play is completely sold out and there was a packed, enthusiastic audience on Monday evening. It's an entertaining and satisfying experience -not quite Shakespeare, but very enjoyable.

Monday, August 10, 2026

'Arcadia' by Tom Stoppard

10 August 2026

I've always enjoyed the plays of Tom Stoppard - from 'The Real Inspector Hound', 'Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead', 'The Real Thing', 'Travesties' and 'Jumpers' to 'The Hard Problem' (reviewed here in April 2015) and ‘Leopoldstadt’ (reviewed here in February 2022). I was even lucky enough to see Stoppard giving a pre-show talk before a performance of ‘Every Good Boy Deserves Favour’ at the National Theatre in 2009 (reviewed here in February 2009). When Tom Stoppard died in November 2025, reading the obituaries and tributes I was reminded that I had never seen the play that has often been described as his best work. I remember reading the reviews of the original production of 'Arcadia' at the National Theatre in 1993 but I didn't manage to get to see it. I did, though, really enjoy the audio recording of the play by that original cast (including Rufus Sewell, Felicity Kendal, Bill Nighy and Emma Fielding) which was broadcast on BBC Radio 3 in 1993. On Saturday I finally got to see 'Arcadia' on stage, at the Duke of York's Theatre (soon to be renamed the Tom Stoppard Theatre) in London's West End. Carrie Cracknell's production opened at the Old Vic in January this year and transferred to the West End in June. The production is presented in the round and we decided to get seats on the stage, which gave us a wonderful close-up view of the actors: most of the time it felt like we were watching a studio production. 'Arcadia' is a brilliant play. Set in a grand country house in Derbyshire in two different times (1809 and 1993) it shows modern academics researching the early 19th century events at the house, which we also see directly. This is a canvas for Stoppard to explore a range of ideas and themes, including mathematics, iterative algorithms, chaos theory, academic methods, the picturesque and landscape gardening. This preponderance of topics helps to avoid the script becoming too didactic, as the pomposity of certain characters is constantly pricked by interruptions and digressions by their peers. It's also a very funny play, with an extensive cast who are initially confined to the scenes set in their own timeline but then begin to cross over with their counterparts from another age. It's a great cast: Oliver Chris channels Bill Nighy as the Tiggerish academic Bernard Nightingale, for whom Nikki Amuka-Bird's Hannah Jarvis is more than a match, and Angus Cooper's Valentine Coverly is a gentle, sympathetic referee between them. Yolanda Kettle is commanding as Lady Croom and Seamus Dillane as the tutor Septimus Hodge is witty, knowing and charmingly disreputable. But Isis Hainsworth steals the show as the teenage mathematical product Thomasina Coverly - a proto-Ada Lovelace. It was particularly interesting to see 'Arcadia' so soon after reading Ian McEwan's novel 'What We Can Know' (reviewed here in August 2026) which has a very similar structure - with academics trying to unearth the details of the events of a previous century through the discovery of written sources - and slightly misinterpreting them. And both plots revolve around the works of a poet. But Stoppard is much funnier.

'What We Can Know' by Ian McEwan

10 August 2026

Ian McEwan's 2024 novel 'What We Can Know' is an impressive achievement. A historian in the year 2119 is researching the work of the early 21st century poet Francis Blundy and, in particular, his legendary missing poem from 2014, 'A Corona for Vivien'. To frame this scholarly literary detective story, McEwan has constructed a detailed history of the next 100 years, complete with climate disasters, nuclear war and more. But what he is really exploring is the unreliability of historical written sources, control of one's own narrative and the making of myths. It's an incredibly clever novel which I think I enjoyed all the more because I hadn't heard anything about it before reading and had no idea where it was going.

Wednesday, August 05, 2026

'Lady Oracle' by Margaret Atwood

5 August 2026

'Lady Oracle' is an early novel by Margaret Atwood, first published in 1976. I hadn't heard of the book when I started reading it and had no idea what to expect. I found the opening chapters, in which the narrator arrives at her holiday home in Italy, having apparently faked her own death, quite confusing, but once she started to tell the story of her childhood in Toronto the novel grabbed my attention. With hindsight it was fun coming to this tale without any prior knowledge of it, so I won't give much away here. I enjoyed the book but I still feel a bit unsure what I thought of it. On the face of it, its quite a miserable story - but it is told with a comic flair and boasts a cast of brilliantly eccentric characters (who all seem to have the habit of reappearing just when you had forgotten them!). 'Lady Oracle' does have the feel of an early work, perhaps throwing too many ideas into the mix. But it is clearly written by a skillful author - and the fact that the first person narrator is also a novelist makes it hard to know how much of her account of her life we should believe. An intriguing and entertaining read.

Wednesday, July 29, 2026

WOMAD 2026

29 July 2026

When the WOMAD Festival moved to Charlton Park in Wiltshire in 2007 (reviewed here in August 2007) that first festival at the new site was beset by problems, exacerbated by the constant rain that created a sea of mud. Last weekend's first post-Charlton Park WOMAD, at the festival's new home of Neston Park near Corsham in Wiltshire, seemed to have learned much from the 2007 experience - and also benefited from near perfect weather. For the first outing at this new venue (after a fallow year with no festival in 2025), everything seemed to go extremely smoothly. Neston Park feels smaller than Charlton Park (the WOMAD programme described it as "more intimate") but the numbers attending seemed to fit the space well. I soon got the hang of the new layout of the festival arena (though it took me until Saturday afternoon to realise that the beautiful path through the sunflower field provided a handy shortcut between the two halves of the arena). I'm not sure they had got the positioning of all the stages quite right but I expect the necessary tweaks will be in place by next year's festival. And, for me, 2026 was, musically, the best WOMAD for quite a while. I saw 23 performances over the three days, including 15 full sets, and there were many many highlights. It was great to see WOMAD founder Peter Gabriel on stage on Saturday afternoon to pay tribute to the WOMAD Festival Director Chris Smith who is retiring after 20 years in charge. Later in the day I found myself standing immediately behind Peter Gabriel in the crowd in the Sunflower Tent, watching the band LYR, featuring the Poet Laureate Simon Armitage. I really enjoyed Derya Yıldırım & Grup Şimşek and their 1970s psychedelic version of traditional Anatolian folk music. I was charmed by the intergenerational group representing the Lăutăresele Şaraimanic project that celebrates music from the variety of different ethnic communities in Romania. While these performances of Anatolian and Romanian folk music presented the traditional in an innovative modern way, the Mexican brass band Mixanteña de Santa Cecilia performed music from the Pacific coast of Mexico in a way that appeared to be completely historically authentic, with traditional costumes and dancers, but was no less thrilling. Bénin International Musical's "incendiary voodoo sound of West Africa" was engaging and varied. And I loved the Brooklyn disco funk of Say She She. Amidst these big danceable shows on the main stage, I'm pleased I also found the time to see Pakistani musician Ustad Noor Bakhsh on the smaller Village Stage. He plays the benju - a zither with typewriter-style keys, played like a lap-steel guitar - and he only found international recognition when already in his late seventies. His hypnotic fast-picking tunes found an enthusiastic audience at WOMAD and provided a beautiful opportunity for contemplation. But my favourite moments of the 2026 WOMAD Festival were the polyphonic vocals of the Occitan group Barrut from Southern France and the high energy singing and dancing of Galician female folk trio Tanxugueiras from Northern Spain. In both cases I found myself thrilled to have chosen to be at those stages at that time and thinking I will remember these performances for many years.