We were back at the Watford Palace Theatre on Saturday to see ‘Reasons to be Cheerful’ – a play-come-musical written by Paul Sirett, featuring the music of Ian Dury and The Blockheads. This was the first time I had seen Graeae – the acclaimed theatre company that boldly places disabled artists centre stage. ‘Reasons to be Cheerful’ was directed by Graeae’s Artistic Director Jenny Sealey, who is Co-Artistic Director of the London 2012 Paralympic Games Opening Ceremony. The first impression was of a stage packed with people – the cast of disabled and non-disabled actors indistinguishable from an excellent Blockheads tribute band. The framing device was that we were in a pub in 1981 to watch a play about events in the summer of 1979, performed by the people whose story they told. (With some exceptions – I liked the fact that Vinnie’s obnoxious boss Dave was played by Vinnie’s friend Nick because Dave obviously wouldn’t have been invited to take part in this performance. Amid the rumbustious energy of the play there was a nice level of internal logical consistency.) The acting and the characterisation were great – with lots of clever little touches going on in the background across the crowded stage. I loved the enthusiasm of the Musical Director of the band – Robert Hyman – who was also Vinnie’s Uncle Harry. It took me some time to work out that Pickles (Wayne ‘Pickles’ Norman) who appeared to have wondered onto the stage from the audience, joining in the dancing but having no dialogue, playing no real part in the story and spending most of the evening speaking into a payphone in the corner of the pub, was actually doing the audio description for those audience members who couldn’t see the action. The signer, Jude Mahon, was very much part of the action, singing and dancing with the rest of the cast and occasionally acting a part (at which point someone else would seamlessly take over sign language duties). There was also inventive use of a large video screen – both to provide captioning for those who couldn’t hear the dialogue and to illustrate the colourfully surreal world of Ian Dury’s songs. Bring able to read Dury’s incredible lyrics as they whizzed past at high speed was a fantastic addition for all members of the audience. The songs were wonderful – delivered with massive energy and enthusiasm and truly getting the whole theatre rocking. John Kelly’s lead vocals were Ian Dury to a T – without descending into parody or impression. Alongside the music, the performances and the inventiveness of the production, the story seemed a bit weak and disappointingly light on the politics of 1979. But by the time we got to several encores the audience was on its feet and we left humming “Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll”.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Reasons to be Cheerful’ by Paul Sirett
23 March 2012
We were back at the Watford Palace Theatre on Saturday to see ‘Reasons to be Cheerful’ – a play-come-musical written by Paul Sirett, featuring the music of Ian Dury and The Blockheads. This was the first time I had seen Graeae – the acclaimed theatre company that boldly places disabled artists centre stage. ‘Reasons to be Cheerful’ was directed by Graeae’s Artistic Director Jenny Sealey, who is Co-Artistic Director of the London 2012 Paralympic Games Opening Ceremony. The first impression was of a stage packed with people – the cast of disabled and non-disabled actors indistinguishable from an excellent Blockheads tribute band. The framing device was that we were in a pub in 1981 to watch a play about events in the summer of 1979, performed by the people whose story they told. (With some exceptions – I liked the fact that Vinnie’s obnoxious boss Dave was played by Vinnie’s friend Nick because Dave obviously wouldn’t have been invited to take part in this performance. Amid the rumbustious energy of the play there was a nice level of internal logical consistency.) The acting and the characterisation were great – with lots of clever little touches going on in the background across the crowded stage. I loved the enthusiasm of the Musical Director of the band – Robert Hyman – who was also Vinnie’s Uncle Harry. It took me some time to work out that Pickles (Wayne ‘Pickles’ Norman) who appeared to have wondered onto the stage from the audience, joining in the dancing but having no dialogue, playing no real part in the story and spending most of the evening speaking into a payphone in the corner of the pub, was actually doing the audio description for those audience members who couldn’t see the action. The signer, Jude Mahon, was very much part of the action, singing and dancing with the rest of the cast and occasionally acting a part (at which point someone else would seamlessly take over sign language duties). There was also inventive use of a large video screen – both to provide captioning for those who couldn’t hear the dialogue and to illustrate the colourfully surreal world of Ian Dury’s songs. Bring able to read Dury’s incredible lyrics as they whizzed past at high speed was a fantastic addition for all members of the audience. The songs were wonderful – delivered with massive energy and enthusiasm and truly getting the whole theatre rocking. John Kelly’s lead vocals were Ian Dury to a T – without descending into parody or impression. Alongside the music, the performances and the inventiveness of the production, the story seemed a bit weak and disappointingly light on the politics of 1979. But by the time we got to several encores the audience was on its feet and we left humming “Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll”.
We were back at the Watford Palace Theatre on Saturday to see ‘Reasons to be Cheerful’ – a play-come-musical written by Paul Sirett, featuring the music of Ian Dury and The Blockheads. This was the first time I had seen Graeae – the acclaimed theatre company that boldly places disabled artists centre stage. ‘Reasons to be Cheerful’ was directed by Graeae’s Artistic Director Jenny Sealey, who is Co-Artistic Director of the London 2012 Paralympic Games Opening Ceremony. The first impression was of a stage packed with people – the cast of disabled and non-disabled actors indistinguishable from an excellent Blockheads tribute band. The framing device was that we were in a pub in 1981 to watch a play about events in the summer of 1979, performed by the people whose story they told. (With some exceptions – I liked the fact that Vinnie’s obnoxious boss Dave was played by Vinnie’s friend Nick because Dave obviously wouldn’t have been invited to take part in this performance. Amid the rumbustious energy of the play there was a nice level of internal logical consistency.) The acting and the characterisation were great – with lots of clever little touches going on in the background across the crowded stage. I loved the enthusiasm of the Musical Director of the band – Robert Hyman – who was also Vinnie’s Uncle Harry. It took me some time to work out that Pickles (Wayne ‘Pickles’ Norman) who appeared to have wondered onto the stage from the audience, joining in the dancing but having no dialogue, playing no real part in the story and spending most of the evening speaking into a payphone in the corner of the pub, was actually doing the audio description for those audience members who couldn’t see the action. The signer, Jude Mahon, was very much part of the action, singing and dancing with the rest of the cast and occasionally acting a part (at which point someone else would seamlessly take over sign language duties). There was also inventive use of a large video screen – both to provide captioning for those who couldn’t hear the dialogue and to illustrate the colourfully surreal world of Ian Dury’s songs. Bring able to read Dury’s incredible lyrics as they whizzed past at high speed was a fantastic addition for all members of the audience. The songs were wonderful – delivered with massive energy and enthusiasm and truly getting the whole theatre rocking. John Kelly’s lead vocals were Ian Dury to a T – without descending into parody or impression. Alongside the music, the performances and the inventiveness of the production, the story seemed a bit weak and disappointingly light on the politics of 1979. But by the time we got to several encores the audience was on its feet and we left humming “Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll”.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
'The Taming of The Shrew' by William Shakespeare
14 March 2012
On Saturday we were at Milton Keynes Theatre to see Lucy Bailey’s Royal Shakespeare Company production of ‘The Taming of the Shrew’. This was the first time I had seen a production designed for the thrust stage of the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre performed in a more conventional proscenium arch theatre. The set is a gigantic bed – the shape of the thrust stage reproduced as a padded sloping surface covered by an enormous sheet. It’s a striking sight and emphasises the framing device for this difficult play: it is always clear that the battle between Petruchio and Kate is taking place within Christopher Sly’s dream and should be viewed in that context. Christopher Sly spends most of the play lying beneath a corner of the giant sheet while the players perform upon it. This allows for some lovely comic moments between scenes where Sly is pursued across the stage under the bed-sheet like the bump under the carpet in a Tom and Jerry cartoon. It’s always hard to judge ‘The Taming of the Shrew’ against modern standards: having recently seen ‘The Comedy of Errors’ it struck me that both are early Shakespeare works and lack some of the sophistication of his best plays. They both provide opportunities for slapstick and broad comedy but don’t have the verbal dexterity and deeper meaning of the later works. The RSC production was excellently acted: David Caves and Lisa Dillon were very strong in the leading parts and I also particularly enjoyed the clowning of Gavin Fowler as Lucentio. But the play didn’t grab my attention as strongly as I had hoped and we felt a long way from the action compared to the intimacy of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre.
On Saturday we were at Milton Keynes Theatre to see Lucy Bailey’s Royal Shakespeare Company production of ‘The Taming of the Shrew’. This was the first time I had seen a production designed for the thrust stage of the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre performed in a more conventional proscenium arch theatre. The set is a gigantic bed – the shape of the thrust stage reproduced as a padded sloping surface covered by an enormous sheet. It’s a striking sight and emphasises the framing device for this difficult play: it is always clear that the battle between Petruchio and Kate is taking place within Christopher Sly’s dream and should be viewed in that context. Christopher Sly spends most of the play lying beneath a corner of the giant sheet while the players perform upon it. This allows for some lovely comic moments between scenes where Sly is pursued across the stage under the bed-sheet like the bump under the carpet in a Tom and Jerry cartoon. It’s always hard to judge ‘The Taming of the Shrew’ against modern standards: having recently seen ‘The Comedy of Errors’ it struck me that both are early Shakespeare works and lack some of the sophistication of his best plays. They both provide opportunities for slapstick and broad comedy but don’t have the verbal dexterity and deeper meaning of the later works. The RSC production was excellently acted: David Caves and Lisa Dillon were very strong in the leading parts and I also particularly enjoyed the clowning of Gavin Fowler as Lucentio. But the play didn’t grab my attention as strongly as I had hoped and we felt a long way from the action compared to the intimacy of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre.
'Neighbourhood Watch' by Alan Ayckbourn
14 March 2012
For some of us Matthew Cottle will always be the weedy ginger-haired one in the Andrew Davies sitcom ‘Game On’, but more recently he seems to have been specialising in the work of Alan Ayckbourn. When we saw Ayckbourn’s ‘Just Between Ourselves’ at the Royal Theatre Northampton in May 2009, I realised we had seen Cottle play the same part in a 2002 production of the play at the Theatre Royal in Bath. Last Saturday we were at the Palace Theatre in Watford to see the original Stephen Joseph Theatre Scarborough production of Alan Ayckbourn’s latest play ‘Neighbourhood Watch’ with Matthew Cottle as Martin. This is Ayckbourn’s 75th professionally produced full length play and a very good example of his work. As usual with Ayckbourn there is a simple, single set – a domestic setting that would be easy for an amateur theatre company to reproduce. The action takes place in a middle class home where new residents Martin and his sister Hilda help to establish a neighbourhood watch scheme. Initially this seems very similar to the Esmonde and Larbey sitcom ‘Ever Decreasing Circles’ but there is always a darker side to Ayckbourn’s comedy and soon the neighbourhood watch is taken to extremes that veer closer to martial law. It’s a very funny, poignant and nicely observed play. Ayckbourn’s characters are slightly cartoony versions of reality but eminently recognisable: not least amongst the play’s audience!
For some of us Matthew Cottle will always be the weedy ginger-haired one in the Andrew Davies sitcom ‘Game On’, but more recently he seems to have been specialising in the work of Alan Ayckbourn. When we saw Ayckbourn’s ‘Just Between Ourselves’ at the Royal Theatre Northampton in May 2009, I realised we had seen Cottle play the same part in a 2002 production of the play at the Theatre Royal in Bath. Last Saturday we were at the Palace Theatre in Watford to see the original Stephen Joseph Theatre Scarborough production of Alan Ayckbourn’s latest play ‘Neighbourhood Watch’ with Matthew Cottle as Martin. This is Ayckbourn’s 75th professionally produced full length play and a very good example of his work. As usual with Ayckbourn there is a simple, single set – a domestic setting that would be easy for an amateur theatre company to reproduce. The action takes place in a middle class home where new residents Martin and his sister Hilda help to establish a neighbourhood watch scheme. Initially this seems very similar to the Esmonde and Larbey sitcom ‘Ever Decreasing Circles’ but there is always a darker side to Ayckbourn’s comedy and soon the neighbourhood watch is taken to extremes that veer closer to martial law. It’s a very funny, poignant and nicely observed play. Ayckbourn’s characters are slightly cartoony versions of reality but eminently recognisable: not least amongst the play’s audience!
Thursday, March 08, 2012
Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert
8 March 2012
Rimsky Korsakov’s ‘Scheherezade’ is a lovely piece of music with some wonderful melodies but seems to me (particularly in the second movement) not to represent 1001 tales told by a single storyteller but a succession of storytellers presenting their own versions of the same story. This procession of soloists within the orchestra stepping into the limelight and taking their turn to outdo each other provides a great opportunity to show off the talented players in every section of the orchestra. And, in the Northampton Symphony Orchestra’s performance last Saturday, each of our home-grown soloists excelled. To be completely honest, and without any false modesty, the horn solos are much easier than most of the woodwind solos that precede them, but nonetheless I was glad that I managed to perform them fairly cleanly. Amid all this self-congratulation most praise must go to our leader, Trevor Dyson, who gave an excellent account of the violin cadenzas that hold the work together. These virtuoso challenges must be a terrifying prospect but Trevor gave a great performance. In the first half of the concert we tackled the ‘Four Sea Interludes’ from Benjamin Britten’s ‘Peter Grimes’. I hadn’t played these before and it took me a few weeks to get to grips with the music but I found it very rewarding. Each movement has a completely different style and feel. We also tackled the second Piano Concerto by Shostakovich with the pianist and composer Huw Watkins. This is a playful and relatively short concerto which is enjoyable but somewhat slight – until you get to the slow movement which is achingly beautiful and worth the price of admission on its own. It was a lovely programme and a great concert.
Rimsky Korsakov’s ‘Scheherezade’ is a lovely piece of music with some wonderful melodies but seems to me (particularly in the second movement) not to represent 1001 tales told by a single storyteller but a succession of storytellers presenting their own versions of the same story. This procession of soloists within the orchestra stepping into the limelight and taking their turn to outdo each other provides a great opportunity to show off the talented players in every section of the orchestra. And, in the Northampton Symphony Orchestra’s performance last Saturday, each of our home-grown soloists excelled. To be completely honest, and without any false modesty, the horn solos are much easier than most of the woodwind solos that precede them, but nonetheless I was glad that I managed to perform them fairly cleanly. Amid all this self-congratulation most praise must go to our leader, Trevor Dyson, who gave an excellent account of the violin cadenzas that hold the work together. These virtuoso challenges must be a terrifying prospect but Trevor gave a great performance. In the first half of the concert we tackled the ‘Four Sea Interludes’ from Benjamin Britten’s ‘Peter Grimes’. I hadn’t played these before and it took me a few weeks to get to grips with the music but I found it very rewarding. Each movement has a completely different style and feel. We also tackled the second Piano Concerto by Shostakovich with the pianist and composer Huw Watkins. This is a playful and relatively short concerto which is enjoyable but somewhat slight – until you get to the slow movement which is achingly beautiful and worth the price of admission on its own. It was a lovely programme and a great concert.
Friday, March 02, 2012
'Our Father' by Charlotte Keatley
2 March 2012
Anton Chekhov said that if a gun appears in a story it has to be fired: that’s the point of a story. So when the curtain opened on Charlotte Keatley’s new play ‘Our Father’ at the Palace Theatre in Watford last Saturday, to reveal a dam, high on a hill in the Peak District, there was an ever-present inevitability that this dam would burst. Adam Wiltshire’s amazing set was the star of the show and the flood was a real coup de théâtre. Charlotte Keatley is best known for her 1987 play ‘My Mother Said I Never Should’ – a clever and moving tale of four generations of women that fast became a modern classic. She is clearly an accomplished writer and ‘Our Father’, directed by Brigid Larmour who directed the original Contact Theatre production of ‘My Mother Said I Never Should’, was a well-acted, polished piece, but somehow it seemed to amount to slightly less than the sum of its parts. The device of a young woman in the present day hearing the voice of a young woman talking to her from centuries earlier in the same location reminded me of Tom Stoppard’s ‘Arcadia’. But, for me, the play failed to really come to life: there seemed to be a strong story bursting to get out but the narrative dam was possibly too securely built to allow it to flow.
Anton Chekhov said that if a gun appears in a story it has to be fired: that’s the point of a story. So when the curtain opened on Charlotte Keatley’s new play ‘Our Father’ at the Palace Theatre in Watford last Saturday, to reveal a dam, high on a hill in the Peak District, there was an ever-present inevitability that this dam would burst. Adam Wiltshire’s amazing set was the star of the show and the flood was a real coup de théâtre. Charlotte Keatley is best known for her 1987 play ‘My Mother Said I Never Should’ – a clever and moving tale of four generations of women that fast became a modern classic. She is clearly an accomplished writer and ‘Our Father’, directed by Brigid Larmour who directed the original Contact Theatre production of ‘My Mother Said I Never Should’, was a well-acted, polished piece, but somehow it seemed to amount to slightly less than the sum of its parts. The device of a young woman in the present day hearing the voice of a young woman talking to her from centuries earlier in the same location reminded me of Tom Stoppard’s ‘Arcadia’. But, for me, the play failed to really come to life: there seemed to be a strong story bursting to get out but the narrative dam was possibly too securely built to allow it to flow.
Monday, February 20, 2012
'Oedipussy' by Spymonkey
20 February 2012
One of the most difficult challenges for any artist is how to respond to a particularly bad review. Australian comedian Tim Minchin (reviewed here in November 2008) famously wrote a vitriolic song about the Guardian reviewer Phil Daoust ("occasional Guardian newspaper journal-oust"). Now physical theatre company Spymonkey’s response to a bad review by Joyce McMillan in The Scotsman (and particularly her reference to them as a “bunch of middle-aged actors”) is to create a gloriously silly rendering of ‘Oedipus Rex’ in the style of a 1970s James Bond film which plays on the theme of ageing. As they say at the beginning of ‘Oedipussy’ - “this one’s for you Joyce McMillan!”. We were at the Royal Theatre in Northampton on Saturday to see the last night of ‘Oedipussy’ – a Spymonkey production in association with the Royal & Derngate Northampton, written by Carl Grose and the cast and directed and adapted by Emma Rice. I had loved the visual humour and stagecraft of two previous Emma Rice productions – ‘A Matter of Life and Death’ at the National Theatre (reviewed here in May 2007) and ‘Brief Encounter’ which I also saw at the Royal Theatre, Northampton and this show (her first with Spymonkey) had a similarly inventive approach. Spymonkey are a wonderful quartet of physical actors and clowns who spend much of the show stepping out of character to complain about their aliments and moan about their colleagues. Their re-telling of ‘Oedipus Rex’ (I loved that Sophocles gets a biography in the programme which says he “has several projects in development including a rock opera of his ‘Philoctetes with Einsturzende Neubauten and a sitcom treatment for Baby Cow”) is chaotic and confused with the actors often arguing amongst themselves. This is a physical theatre version of The National Theatre of Brent. There were some great visual gags: why is there nothing so funny as someone trying to walk through a narrow space while wearing headgear that is too wide for the space?! And the show finishes with the most hilarious suicide by hanging that you are ever likely to see on stage! ‘Oedipussy’ was incredibly silly and I suspect most people would either love it or hate it but I was grinning throughout, except for when I was laughing raucously – and many of the audience ended the evening in unstoppable hysterics.
One of the most difficult challenges for any artist is how to respond to a particularly bad review. Australian comedian Tim Minchin (reviewed here in November 2008) famously wrote a vitriolic song about the Guardian reviewer Phil Daoust ("occasional Guardian newspaper journal-oust"). Now physical theatre company Spymonkey’s response to a bad review by Joyce McMillan in The Scotsman (and particularly her reference to them as a “bunch of middle-aged actors”) is to create a gloriously silly rendering of ‘Oedipus Rex’ in the style of a 1970s James Bond film which plays on the theme of ageing. As they say at the beginning of ‘Oedipussy’ - “this one’s for you Joyce McMillan!”. We were at the Royal Theatre in Northampton on Saturday to see the last night of ‘Oedipussy’ – a Spymonkey production in association with the Royal & Derngate Northampton, written by Carl Grose and the cast and directed and adapted by Emma Rice. I had loved the visual humour and stagecraft of two previous Emma Rice productions – ‘A Matter of Life and Death’ at the National Theatre (reviewed here in May 2007) and ‘Brief Encounter’ which I also saw at the Royal Theatre, Northampton and this show (her first with Spymonkey) had a similarly inventive approach. Spymonkey are a wonderful quartet of physical actors and clowns who spend much of the show stepping out of character to complain about their aliments and moan about their colleagues. Their re-telling of ‘Oedipus Rex’ (I loved that Sophocles gets a biography in the programme which says he “has several projects in development including a rock opera of his ‘Philoctetes with Einsturzende Neubauten and a sitcom treatment for Baby Cow”) is chaotic and confused with the actors often arguing amongst themselves. This is a physical theatre version of The National Theatre of Brent. There were some great visual gags: why is there nothing so funny as someone trying to walk through a narrow space while wearing headgear that is too wide for the space?! And the show finishes with the most hilarious suicide by hanging that you are ever likely to see on stage! ‘Oedipussy’ was incredibly silly and I suspect most people would either love it or hate it but I was grinning throughout, except for when I was laughing raucously – and many of the audience ended the evening in unstoppable hysterics.
Friday, February 17, 2012
'Our Version of Events' by Emeli Sandé
17 February 2012
Another week, another eagerly-anticipated debut album by a much-hyped young female singer songwriter. But it's not every week that the young woman in question is a former medical student from rural Aberdeenshire with English and Zambian parents. As you start to listen to 'Heaven', the opening track of Emeli Sandé's album 'Our Version of Events', it's easy to leap to the assumption, guided by the rapid background beats, that you're squarely in dance music territory. But the emergence of brass chords, leading to an epic orchestral backing, seems to take you into more of an R&B feel. And Sandé's voice is a powerful, soulful instrument. The further you travel into the album the less sure you are of where you would pigeon-hole this music. It's a clever and impressive collection of pop songs, ranging from the delicate simplicity of 'Where I Sleep', to the whispered vocals of 'Mountains' to the piano ballad 'Clown'. There's a particularly strong strand of sad but gorgeous songs such as 'Daddy' and 'Maybe'. 'Our Version of Events' is a cool, varied and sophisticated first album: it will be interesting to see what Emeli does next.
Another week, another eagerly-anticipated debut album by a much-hyped young female singer songwriter. But it's not every week that the young woman in question is a former medical student from rural Aberdeenshire with English and Zambian parents. As you start to listen to 'Heaven', the opening track of Emeli Sandé's album 'Our Version of Events', it's easy to leap to the assumption, guided by the rapid background beats, that you're squarely in dance music territory. But the emergence of brass chords, leading to an epic orchestral backing, seems to take you into more of an R&B feel. And Sandé's voice is a powerful, soulful instrument. The further you travel into the album the less sure you are of where you would pigeon-hole this music. It's a clever and impressive collection of pop songs, ranging from the delicate simplicity of 'Where I Sleep', to the whispered vocals of 'Mountains' to the piano ballad 'Clown'. There's a particularly strong strand of sad but gorgeous songs such as 'Daddy' and 'Maybe'. 'Our Version of Events' is a cool, varied and sophisticated first album: it will be interesting to see what Emeli does next.
Tuesday, February 07, 2012
'The Comedy of Errors' by William Shakespeare
7 February 2012
‘The Comedy of Errors’ is a very early Shakespeare play and not one of his best. Even within the parameters of silly farce, the plot doesn't entirely make sense and several of the characters you are meant to care about are less than sympathetic. But it still provides solid material for an enjoyable romp if handled well. Dominic Cooke’s new production for the National Theatre is a very modern take on the play. Set in a seedy, urban, contemporary world it makes good use of the massive stage in the Olivier Theatre, incorporating three-storey buildings which use the full height of the auditorium. I loved the way the passage of years was indicated by the changing sponsors’ names on Dromio’s Arsenal football shirt! The star attraction here is Lenny Henry who gives an impressively restrained performance as Antipholus of Syracuse, with the occasional hysterical outburst, wide eyed astonishment and manic energy all the funnier for their sparing use. Antipholus and Dromio are a classic simpleton double act along the lines of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza (though ‘Don Quixote’ was published more than 10 years after the first performance of ‘The Comedy of Errors’) and Lenny Henry and Lucian Msamati make a great team: it is fascinating to see Lenny Henry more often playing the straight man. As the farce begins to take off in the second act there are some great comic moments with crowds of actors pursuing each other around the set. Claudie Blakley and Michelle Terry deserve a particular mention for managing to negotiate the chase scenes in vertiginous high heels!
‘The Comedy of Errors’ is a very early Shakespeare play and not one of his best. Even within the parameters of silly farce, the plot doesn't entirely make sense and several of the characters you are meant to care about are less than sympathetic. But it still provides solid material for an enjoyable romp if handled well. Dominic Cooke’s new production for the National Theatre is a very modern take on the play. Set in a seedy, urban, contemporary world it makes good use of the massive stage in the Olivier Theatre, incorporating three-storey buildings which use the full height of the auditorium. I loved the way the passage of years was indicated by the changing sponsors’ names on Dromio’s Arsenal football shirt! The star attraction here is Lenny Henry who gives an impressively restrained performance as Antipholus of Syracuse, with the occasional hysterical outburst, wide eyed astonishment and manic energy all the funnier for their sparing use. Antipholus and Dromio are a classic simpleton double act along the lines of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza (though ‘Don Quixote’ was published more than 10 years after the first performance of ‘The Comedy of Errors’) and Lenny Henry and Lucian Msamati make a great team: it is fascinating to see Lenny Henry more often playing the straight man. As the farce begins to take off in the second act there are some great comic moments with crowds of actors pursuing each other around the set. Claudie Blakley and Michelle Terry deserve a particular mention for managing to negotiate the chase scenes in vertiginous high heels!
Friday, February 03, 2012
‘Born To Die’ by Lana Del Ray
3 February 2012
I’ve been listening to the most anticipated debut album of
recent years, ‘Born To Die’ by Lana Del Ray, which was released on Monday. I
haven’t really been following all the hype, which seemed to centre on outrage
in the media that Lana Del Ray turned out to be a character rather than a real
person – which doesn’t seem a terribly newsworthy scandal in the world of pop
music. I came to the music without much of the backstory and have been enjoying
the album on its own merits. This is incredibly catchy pop with a hint of dreamy
strangeness. It’s lusciously produced
with soaring strings, gentle piano chords, drums and electronic beats, plenty
of echo, some light rapping and Lana Del Ray’s haunting, very slightly slurred
vocals. It’s the tunes and their delivery that make ‘Born To Die’ addictive
pop. The lyrics don’t bear too much scrutiny but there are some great singalong
choruses. ‘Video Games’ is a wonderful song – slow, gentle, littered with harp
arpeggios and low, sultry vocals with a weirdly compelling melody that seems to
twist sinisterly in unexpected directions. ‘Diet Mountain Dew’ feels completely
different – trip hop meets cheerleader with a minor key feel that sounds a lot
like early Oi Va Voi. ‘National Anthem’ clearly borrows from ‘Bitter Sweet
Symphony’ by the Verve but takes us on into a memorable chorus. Cleverly
manufactured pop music.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
‘Man with a Love Song’ by James Hill
25 January 2012
The humble ukulele has undergone a renaissance in recent years, with its notable appearances including ‘Bang Goes the Knighthood’ by The Divine Comedy (reviewed here in June 2010), the eclectic music of Beirut (reviewed here in November 2006 and October 2007), the phenomenal posthumous success of the late Hawaiian singer Israel Kamakawiwo’ole and the ubiquitous Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain (reviewed here in July 2010). James Hill is a Canadian singer, songwriter and ukulele player and his latest album ‘Man with a Love Song’ is a lovely, varied set of songs – laid-back, gentle and playful tunes. James Hill also plays banjo and piano and is joined by the cellist Anne Davison. He uses the ukulele thoughtfully and sparingly: there is little of the clichéd frantic strumming here. And the pick of the tracks, for me, is the haunting, moving ballad ‘High Demand’ – a beautiful song.
The humble ukulele has undergone a renaissance in recent years, with its notable appearances including ‘Bang Goes the Knighthood’ by The Divine Comedy (reviewed here in June 2010), the eclectic music of Beirut (reviewed here in November 2006 and October 2007), the phenomenal posthumous success of the late Hawaiian singer Israel Kamakawiwo’ole and the ubiquitous Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain (reviewed here in July 2010). James Hill is a Canadian singer, songwriter and ukulele player and his latest album ‘Man with a Love Song’ is a lovely, varied set of songs – laid-back, gentle and playful tunes. James Hill also plays banjo and piano and is joined by the cellist Anne Davison. He uses the ukulele thoughtfully and sparingly: there is little of the clichéd frantic strumming here. And the pick of the tracks, for me, is the haunting, moving ballad ‘High Demand’ – a beautiful song.
Friday, January 20, 2012
'The Awakening'
20 January 2012
We made a rare trip to The Castle in Wellingborough last Saturday to see ‘The Awakening’, a British film that came out last November but had passed me by. It’s a ghost story, set just after the First World War at a boarding school in Cumbria where professional hoax exposer Florence Cathcart is called in to investigate the death of a boy who has apparently been scared to death. It’s a spooky tale, atmospherically filmed in a constantly gloomy light with muted colours, allowing half-seen images to lurk in the shadows. The most scary ghost films are those that don’t show too much but play upon the audience’s imagination. ‘The Awakening’ pulls off that classic trick of showing you a scene in which the heroine walks through a room without noticing anything unusual, while a ghostly figure appears very briefly in the background in a way that ensures all the audience see something but no-one is quite sure whether they really did. Rebecca Hall is great as Florence Cathcart, her rational determination gradually unwinding in the face of increasingly unexplainable happenings. And there is good support from Dominic West and Imelda Staunton. It’s a nicely made film that doesn’t outstay its welcome and confirms that there is nothing so scary as children!
We made a rare trip to The Castle in Wellingborough last Saturday to see ‘The Awakening’, a British film that came out last November but had passed me by. It’s a ghost story, set just after the First World War at a boarding school in Cumbria where professional hoax exposer Florence Cathcart is called in to investigate the death of a boy who has apparently been scared to death. It’s a spooky tale, atmospherically filmed in a constantly gloomy light with muted colours, allowing half-seen images to lurk in the shadows. The most scary ghost films are those that don’t show too much but play upon the audience’s imagination. ‘The Awakening’ pulls off that classic trick of showing you a scene in which the heroine walks through a room without noticing anything unusual, while a ghostly figure appears very briefly in the background in a way that ensures all the audience see something but no-one is quite sure whether they really did. Rebecca Hall is great as Florence Cathcart, her rational determination gradually unwinding in the face of increasingly unexplainable happenings. And there is good support from Dominic West and Imelda Staunton. It’s a nicely made film that doesn’t outstay its welcome and confirms that there is nothing so scary as children!
Friday, January 13, 2012
‘The House of Silk’ by Anthony Horowitz
13 January 2012
It’s been confusing, over the past couple of weeks, to be watching the excellent new series of ‘Sherlock’ by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss whilst I have also been reading ‘The House of Silk’ by Anthony Horowitz – the first new Sherlock Holmes novel to be officially approved by the Conan Doyle estate. Both are lovingly reverential to the original Sherlock Holmes stories and knowingly playful with the genre. In ‘The House of Silk’ (I read the unabridged audio version, read by Derek Jacobi) an elderly Dr Watson, living in a nursing home many years after Holmes himself has passed away, recounts one last case which he was unable to tell at the time it happened – and will be consigned to his solicitors' vaults for 100 years. All the familiar Holmesian elements are present – 221B Baker Street, Mrs Hudson, Inspector Lestrade, the pipe, the violin, the Baker Street Irregulars etc. There’s a wonderful laugh-out-loud encounter between Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes where they exchange a rapid series of elementary deductions about what they have each been up to since they last met – like an intellectual tennis match. The narrative style is faithful to Conan Doyle and Watson’s voice is completely recognisable. Watson himself comments on his tendency to preoccupy himself with plot and laments his inability to comment on the social conditions of Victorian London in the way Gissing or Dickens had. He then attempts the occasional foray into Dickensian description but Horowitz’s main focus is also on the puzzle of the case (or cases). It’s hard to know whether to criticise the occasional clumsiness of the writing or to attribute this to an accurate reproduction of Conan Doyle’s narrator but ‘The House of Silk’ works better as a thriller than a literary period piece. It’s a marvellously complex mystery: being much longer than Conan Doyle’s original stories allows the novel to weave an extensive web of plotlines, while the relentless pace of the adventure drives the confused reader continually onward. The trick of a Sherlock Holmes story is to leave the reader always slightly ahead of Watson but slightly behind Holmes – and Horowitz achieved this admirably as far as this reader was concerned. The novel builds to a truly thrilling conclusion – I was completely hooked.
It’s been confusing, over the past couple of weeks, to be watching the excellent new series of ‘Sherlock’ by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss whilst I have also been reading ‘The House of Silk’ by Anthony Horowitz – the first new Sherlock Holmes novel to be officially approved by the Conan Doyle estate. Both are lovingly reverential to the original Sherlock Holmes stories and knowingly playful with the genre. In ‘The House of Silk’ (I read the unabridged audio version, read by Derek Jacobi) an elderly Dr Watson, living in a nursing home many years after Holmes himself has passed away, recounts one last case which he was unable to tell at the time it happened – and will be consigned to his solicitors' vaults for 100 years. All the familiar Holmesian elements are present – 221B Baker Street, Mrs Hudson, Inspector Lestrade, the pipe, the violin, the Baker Street Irregulars etc. There’s a wonderful laugh-out-loud encounter between Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes where they exchange a rapid series of elementary deductions about what they have each been up to since they last met – like an intellectual tennis match. The narrative style is faithful to Conan Doyle and Watson’s voice is completely recognisable. Watson himself comments on his tendency to preoccupy himself with plot and laments his inability to comment on the social conditions of Victorian London in the way Gissing or Dickens had. He then attempts the occasional foray into Dickensian description but Horowitz’s main focus is also on the puzzle of the case (or cases). It’s hard to know whether to criticise the occasional clumsiness of the writing or to attribute this to an accurate reproduction of Conan Doyle’s narrator but ‘The House of Silk’ works better as a thriller than a literary period piece. It’s a marvellously complex mystery: being much longer than Conan Doyle’s original stories allows the novel to weave an extensive web of plotlines, while the relentless pace of the adventure drives the confused reader continually onward. The trick of a Sherlock Holmes story is to leave the reader always slightly ahead of Watson but slightly behind Holmes – and Horowitz achieved this admirably as far as this reader was concerned. The novel builds to a truly thrilling conclusion – I was completely hooked.
Thursday, January 05, 2012
‘You Can’t Take It With You’ by George S Kaufman and Moss Hart
5 January 2012
Last Friday we were at the Royal Exchange Theatre in Manchester to see ‘You Can’t Take It With You’ by George S Kaufman and Moss Hart. This production by the Royal Exchange Theatre and Told By An Idiot of the 1936 Broadway comedy, was extremely silly, incredibly funny and joyously life-affirming: I loved it! Kaufman wrote for the Marx Brothers (including the screenplays for ‘A Night at the Opera’ and ‘A Day at the Races’) and ‘You Can’t Take It With You’ displays a similar zany humour. Set in New York in the 1930s, Alice Sycamore (played here by Sarah Ridgeway) brings her new boyfriend home to meet her eccentric family. Here the two lovers are the only ‘normal’ characters with everyone else slightly larger than life – the mother (played by Joanne Howarth) who has spent eight years trying to write a play, purely because eight years ago someone mistakenly delivered her a typewriter, the father (Sam Parks) who spends his days in the attics inventing fireworks, the sister (Sophie Russell) who wants to be a dancer and dances almost continuously around the house, the house guest (Martin Hyder) who arrived six years ago to deliver ice and never left and the grandfather (Christopher Benjamin) who decided that spending six hours a day doing something he didn’t enjoy in order to spend one hour doing the things he liked made no sense and so he stopped going to work or paying income tax. It was a wonderfully silly show, directed by Paul Hunter and making good use of the theatre-in-the-round setting. Everyone left with a smile on their faces.
Last Friday we were at the Royal Exchange Theatre in Manchester to see ‘You Can’t Take It With You’ by George S Kaufman and Moss Hart. This production by the Royal Exchange Theatre and Told By An Idiot of the 1936 Broadway comedy, was extremely silly, incredibly funny and joyously life-affirming: I loved it! Kaufman wrote for the Marx Brothers (including the screenplays for ‘A Night at the Opera’ and ‘A Day at the Races’) and ‘You Can’t Take It With You’ displays a similar zany humour. Set in New York in the 1930s, Alice Sycamore (played here by Sarah Ridgeway) brings her new boyfriend home to meet her eccentric family. Here the two lovers are the only ‘normal’ characters with everyone else slightly larger than life – the mother (played by Joanne Howarth) who has spent eight years trying to write a play, purely because eight years ago someone mistakenly delivered her a typewriter, the father (Sam Parks) who spends his days in the attics inventing fireworks, the sister (Sophie Russell) who wants to be a dancer and dances almost continuously around the house, the house guest (Martin Hyder) who arrived six years ago to deliver ice and never left and the grandfather (Christopher Benjamin) who decided that spending six hours a day doing something he didn’t enjoy in order to spend one hour doing the things he liked made no sense and so he stopped going to work or paying income tax. It was a wonderfully silly show, directed by Paul Hunter and making good use of the theatre-in-the-round setting. Everyone left with a smile on their faces.
'The Ladykillers' by Graham Linehan
5 January 2012
Between Christmas and New Year we were at the Gielgud Theatre in London’s West End to see ‘The Ladykillers’ – a new stage version of the classic Ealing comedy, written by Graham Linehan and directed by Sean Foley. It was an all-star cast with Peter Capaldi, James Fleet, Ben Miller, Clive Rowe, Stephen Wight and the wonderful Marcia Warren as Mrs Wilberforce. But the clear star of the show was the amazing set by Michael Taylor. The whole inside of the house is laid out in exaggerated and eccentric angles and perspective – which reminded me of the Stephen Daldry version of ‘An Inspector Calls’ – and this is combined with a revolving stage to take us outside and show us the heist with a series of toy cars and a toy train. Graham Linehan says in the programme that he was influenced by Patrick Barlow’s stage adaptation of ‘The Thirty Nine Steps’ and this was certainly in a very similar style. There were some very funny moments – I loved the tableau of the six faces of the criminal gang crammed into a tiny cupboard – and it was a very enjoyable evening in the theatre but the performances were good rather than outstanding.
Between Christmas and New Year we were at the Gielgud Theatre in London’s West End to see ‘The Ladykillers’ – a new stage version of the classic Ealing comedy, written by Graham Linehan and directed by Sean Foley. It was an all-star cast with Peter Capaldi, James Fleet, Ben Miller, Clive Rowe, Stephen Wight and the wonderful Marcia Warren as Mrs Wilberforce. But the clear star of the show was the amazing set by Michael Taylor. The whole inside of the house is laid out in exaggerated and eccentric angles and perspective – which reminded me of the Stephen Daldry version of ‘An Inspector Calls’ – and this is combined with a revolving stage to take us outside and show us the heist with a series of toy cars and a toy train. Graham Linehan says in the programme that he was influenced by Patrick Barlow’s stage adaptation of ‘The Thirty Nine Steps’ and this was certainly in a very similar style. There were some very funny moments – I loved the tableau of the six faces of the criminal gang crammed into a tiny cupboard – and it was a very enjoyable evening in the theatre but the performances were good rather than outstanding.
'Measure for Measure' by William Shakespeare
5 January 2012
On Boxing Say we were at The Swan Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon to see the Royal Shakespeare Company production of ‘Measure for Measure’, directed by Roxana Silbert. I’ve seen the play before but this production held my attention better and I felt I properly appreciated it for the first time. Although technically one of Shakespeare’s ‘comedies’, ‘Measure for Measure’ is a dark play. It was good to see the comic moments brought out, without losing the seriousness of its themes. Raymond Coulthard was a mercurial Duke, with a twinkle in his eye, a tendency to break down the fourth wall and a fine line in conjuring tricks. Now that the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre echoes its thrust stage, the Swan, next door, feels very small. We were in the top gallery and could only see the stage by leaning uncomfortably forward. But the quality of the acting overcame these practical annoyances and it was an impressive production.
On Boxing Say we were at The Swan Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon to see the Royal Shakespeare Company production of ‘Measure for Measure’, directed by Roxana Silbert. I’ve seen the play before but this production held my attention better and I felt I properly appreciated it for the first time. Although technically one of Shakespeare’s ‘comedies’, ‘Measure for Measure’ is a dark play. It was good to see the comic moments brought out, without losing the seriousness of its themes. Raymond Coulthard was a mercurial Duke, with a twinkle in his eye, a tendency to break down the fourth wall and a fine line in conjuring tricks. Now that the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre echoes its thrust stage, the Swan, next door, feels very small. We were in the top gallery and could only see the stage by leaning uncomfortably forward. But the quality of the acting overcame these practical annoyances and it was an impressive production.
‘The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha’ by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
5 January 2012
I’ve just finished reading ‘The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha’ by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, as an unabridged audio book translated by John Ormsby, revised, updated and read by Roy McMillan. It’s a massive book – the audio version lasts 36 hours – and I’m afraid it did feel very long. Everyone knows about ‘Don Quixote’ but it was an interesting experience actually reading it. At first it is hard to know how to take it: on the surface Cervantes is clearly parodying a particular style of chivalrous tale of knights of old, but the stories being parodied are now unfamiliar, so the tales of Don Quixote’s mistaken skirmishes with windmills and the like appear to us a simple child-like slapstick. This cartoon narrative is funny but doesn’t seem sophisticated enough to hold your attention over such a long novel. But then you gradually begin to see something cleverer going on in the way the story is told and, in particular, the question of who is telling the story. We appear to be in the hands of an omniscient narrator who knows all that befell Don Quixote and his trusty squire Sancho Panza, even when there was clearly no-one else present. But then there are references to the different versions of Don Quixote’s story, suggesting that he has been written about by many authors and his exploits have become the stuff of legend. ‘Don Quixote’ was published by Cervantes in two volumes, in 1605 and 1615, and in the second part the knight and his squire frequently encounter people who have read the earlier volume and are familiar with their history. This must be one of the earliest examples of meta-fiction and Cervantes proceeds to have lots of fun with the premise: the author himself points out inconsistencies in earlier chapters where, for example, Sancho Panza’s ass is stolen in one scene but he is then described as riding it again in the next. We are told that the author of this account of the Don’s life wrote it in Arabic and that it was then translated into Spanish. The narrator then interjects with comments about the original Arabic author and also about the translator – so who is making these comments? This becomes a very clever, entertaining and rewarding exercise in narrative style. The other thing that Cervantes does very impressively is to construct two classic comic characters, whose influence can be seen to the present day. Don Quixote and Sancho Panza are both deluded simpletons but with their own serious and consistent logic. I worried at first that we were simply being invited to laugh at Don Quixote’s mental illness as he mistakes an inn for a castle or windmills for giants, and even when these obvious mistakes are pointed out to him he excuses them by claiming he has been enchanted by evil forces. But there is much emphasis on the way in which Don Quixote is actually very sensible and logical on every topic except that of knights errant as he has been corrupted by reading too many chivalrous tales. And gradually you realise that Don Quixote and Sancho Panza are wonderfully drawn characters with their own internal logic – exaggerated cartoon creations placed in an otherwise real-world setting. Though set in a different continent at a different time, their picaresque adventures reminded me of the Coen Brothers film ‘O Brother, Where Art Thou’ – itself a loose version of Homer’s ‘The Odyssey’. Cleverly, Don Quixote and Sancho Panza can both see through many of each other’s delusions, while remaining blissfully unaware of their own shortcomings. These are comic simpletons with a serious approach to life – like Laurel and Hardy, Morecambe and Wise or Alan Partridge. I enjoyed reading ‘Don Quixote’: it is too long but you can see why it became so revered and how influential it has been and I will miss The Knight of the Rueful Countenance and his loyal companion with whom I have travelled so far.
I’ve just finished reading ‘The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha’ by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, as an unabridged audio book translated by John Ormsby, revised, updated and read by Roy McMillan. It’s a massive book – the audio version lasts 36 hours – and I’m afraid it did feel very long. Everyone knows about ‘Don Quixote’ but it was an interesting experience actually reading it. At first it is hard to know how to take it: on the surface Cervantes is clearly parodying a particular style of chivalrous tale of knights of old, but the stories being parodied are now unfamiliar, so the tales of Don Quixote’s mistaken skirmishes with windmills and the like appear to us a simple child-like slapstick. This cartoon narrative is funny but doesn’t seem sophisticated enough to hold your attention over such a long novel. But then you gradually begin to see something cleverer going on in the way the story is told and, in particular, the question of who is telling the story. We appear to be in the hands of an omniscient narrator who knows all that befell Don Quixote and his trusty squire Sancho Panza, even when there was clearly no-one else present. But then there are references to the different versions of Don Quixote’s story, suggesting that he has been written about by many authors and his exploits have become the stuff of legend. ‘Don Quixote’ was published by Cervantes in two volumes, in 1605 and 1615, and in the second part the knight and his squire frequently encounter people who have read the earlier volume and are familiar with their history. This must be one of the earliest examples of meta-fiction and Cervantes proceeds to have lots of fun with the premise: the author himself points out inconsistencies in earlier chapters where, for example, Sancho Panza’s ass is stolen in one scene but he is then described as riding it again in the next. We are told that the author of this account of the Don’s life wrote it in Arabic and that it was then translated into Spanish. The narrator then interjects with comments about the original Arabic author and also about the translator – so who is making these comments? This becomes a very clever, entertaining and rewarding exercise in narrative style. The other thing that Cervantes does very impressively is to construct two classic comic characters, whose influence can be seen to the present day. Don Quixote and Sancho Panza are both deluded simpletons but with their own serious and consistent logic. I worried at first that we were simply being invited to laugh at Don Quixote’s mental illness as he mistakes an inn for a castle or windmills for giants, and even when these obvious mistakes are pointed out to him he excuses them by claiming he has been enchanted by evil forces. But there is much emphasis on the way in which Don Quixote is actually very sensible and logical on every topic except that of knights errant as he has been corrupted by reading too many chivalrous tales. And gradually you realise that Don Quixote and Sancho Panza are wonderfully drawn characters with their own internal logic – exaggerated cartoon creations placed in an otherwise real-world setting. Though set in a different continent at a different time, their picaresque adventures reminded me of the Coen Brothers film ‘O Brother, Where Art Thou’ – itself a loose version of Homer’s ‘The Odyssey’. Cleverly, Don Quixote and Sancho Panza can both see through many of each other’s delusions, while remaining blissfully unaware of their own shortcomings. These are comic simpletons with a serious approach to life – like Laurel and Hardy, Morecambe and Wise or Alan Partridge. I enjoyed reading ‘Don Quixote’: it is too long but you can see why it became so revered and how influential it has been and I will miss The Knight of the Rueful Countenance and his loyal companion with whom I have travelled so far.
Lea Singers Concert
5 January 2012
I can think of few better ways to start the Christmas break
than by attending the Lea Singers Charity Christmas Concert, ‘MerryLea’. On 22
December we were back at the Harpenden Public Halls to see this excellent
chamber choir entertain us with a festive programme ranging from medieval to
modern. Each of Poulenc’s beautiful ‘Four Christmas Motets’ were paired with settings
of the same words some 400 years earlier by Palestrina, Orlando Lassus and
William Byrd. I also very much enjoyed a modern South African Christmas Anthem by
Grant McLachlan, ‘Come Colours Rise’. It was great to see a packed audience helping
to raise funds for the Grove House hospice charity and singing the carols enthusiastically
and impressively.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert
14 December 2011
Another vital component for bringing on the festive mood is the annual Christmas Cracker concert by the Northampton Symphony Orchestra. On Sunday we were back at the Spinney Theatre in Northampton for an afternoon of carols and other Christmas music. I haven’t seen the 2004 animated film ‘The Polar Express’ but the music by Alan Silvestri (who also wrote the score for ‘Back to the Future’) is a brilliantly nostalgic evocation of Christmas. Somehow I have also missed seeing that perennial favourite ‘The Snowman’ so it was fun to discover the story for the first time by playing Howard Blake’s music with narration by our excellent compere Graham Padden and members of the Northamptonshire County Boys’ Choir singing ‘Walking in the Air’. We finished the concert with Tchaikovsky’s ‘Suite from the Ballet Nutcracker’ (including a stunning performance at the beginning of ‘The Waltz of the Flowers’ by harpist Federica Mossone) and, with the scent of mulled wine and mince pies heavy in the air, you could hardly get more Christmassy.
Another vital component for bringing on the festive mood is the annual Christmas Cracker concert by the Northampton Symphony Orchestra. On Sunday we were back at the Spinney Theatre in Northampton for an afternoon of carols and other Christmas music. I haven’t seen the 2004 animated film ‘The Polar Express’ but the music by Alan Silvestri (who also wrote the score for ‘Back to the Future’) is a brilliantly nostalgic evocation of Christmas. Somehow I have also missed seeing that perennial favourite ‘The Snowman’ so it was fun to discover the story for the first time by playing Howard Blake’s music with narration by our excellent compere Graham Padden and members of the Northamptonshire County Boys’ Choir singing ‘Walking in the Air’. We finished the concert with Tchaikovsky’s ‘Suite from the Ballet Nutcracker’ (including a stunning performance at the beginning of ‘The Waltz of the Flowers’ by harpist Federica Mossone) and, with the scent of mulled wine and mince pies heavy in the air, you could hardly get more Christmassy.
'Cinderella' by Sue Sachon
14 December 2011
Christmas is coming and there is no better way to start the festive period than with a visit to Toddington to see the excellent TADS pantomime. On Saturday were back at the tiny TADS theatre to see ‘Cinderella’ – a new version written by TADS member Sue Sachon. This was a very traditional pantomime, wonderfully delivered. Perhaps a little less inventive than last years’ ‘The Pirate Princess’ (reviewed here in December 2010) but great fun. ‘Cinderella’ featured a cast of fifteen actors, all of whom were strong. I think the highlight was Lea Pryer and Janet Bray as the comic crooks ‘Bob Down’ and ‘Sid Out’: their rendition of ‘Money Makes the World Go Round’ was a showstopper. But they only narrowly beat the performance of “U.G.L.Y. You ain't got no alibi, you're ugly!” by Cinderella’s Ugly Sisters and Stepmother. Very few of the cast were not playing the opposite gender, but amongst the usual comic drag performances, James Sygrove – as the wicked Stepmother, Cleptomania – took the whole thing to a different level (and not just because of the height of his heels!) with an impressive and disturbing portrayal that suggested he might have pursued a successful career as a female impersonator.
Christmas is coming and there is no better way to start the festive period than with a visit to Toddington to see the excellent TADS pantomime. On Saturday were back at the tiny TADS theatre to see ‘Cinderella’ – a new version written by TADS member Sue Sachon. This was a very traditional pantomime, wonderfully delivered. Perhaps a little less inventive than last years’ ‘The Pirate Princess’ (reviewed here in December 2010) but great fun. ‘Cinderella’ featured a cast of fifteen actors, all of whom were strong. I think the highlight was Lea Pryer and Janet Bray as the comic crooks ‘Bob Down’ and ‘Sid Out’: their rendition of ‘Money Makes the World Go Round’ was a showstopper. But they only narrowly beat the performance of “U.G.L.Y. You ain't got no alibi, you're ugly!” by Cinderella’s Ugly Sisters and Stepmother. Very few of the cast were not playing the opposite gender, but amongst the usual comic drag performances, James Sygrove – as the wicked Stepmother, Cleptomania – took the whole thing to a different level (and not just because of the height of his heels!) with an impressive and disturbing portrayal that suggested he might have pursued a successful career as a female impersonator.
Friday, December 09, 2011
'Henry V' by William Shakespeare
9 December 2011
On Saturday we were at Milton Keynes Theatre to see the Propeller production of Henry V. Propeller is an all-male Shakespeare company, led by Edward Hall. This was a very muscular account of this most masculine of Shakespeare’s plays which did its best to bring home the realities of war in a contemporary context. With members of the cast, in army fatigues and balaclavas, patrolling the auditorium before the start of the play, we felt very much part of the theatre of war. This was very deliberately an ensemble piece with no real stars but high quality acting throughout the cast. In this production The Chorus truly was a chorus, with its words passed between all the actors in turn. For me, the downside of this emphasis on the ensemble was that the King was not the strongest of the actors on the stage and was sometimes a little difficult to hear – particularly in the big set piece speeches where his admirable striving for realism rather than Olivier-style acting left his fast speaking occasionally drowned by music or sound effects. The music was impressive, with some fine singing by the cast and good use of (relatively recent) rock and pop to stress the contemporary setting. We were also treated to more songs in the foyer during the interval where some of the actors performed to raise funds for a respite care charity: they have collected more than £5,000 so far on their tour, which only started in November. I really enjoyed the show: Propeller made it an engaging and entertaining tale which kept my attention throughout. Henry V is not Shakespeare’s best plot (it’s mostly one battle after another with a few short pauses in between) but I was reminded of its crucial significance as a pivot between the other history plays. So many of the nuances are much more poignant if you are familiar with the two Henry IV plays. On the night before Agincourt, Henry V worries that he may be doomed to atone for his father’s sin in deposing Richard II. And this play finishes with The Chorus foretelling the failures of Henry VI and the onset of the Wars of the Roses.
On Saturday we were at Milton Keynes Theatre to see the Propeller production of Henry V. Propeller is an all-male Shakespeare company, led by Edward Hall. This was a very muscular account of this most masculine of Shakespeare’s plays which did its best to bring home the realities of war in a contemporary context. With members of the cast, in army fatigues and balaclavas, patrolling the auditorium before the start of the play, we felt very much part of the theatre of war. This was very deliberately an ensemble piece with no real stars but high quality acting throughout the cast. In this production The Chorus truly was a chorus, with its words passed between all the actors in turn. For me, the downside of this emphasis on the ensemble was that the King was not the strongest of the actors on the stage and was sometimes a little difficult to hear – particularly in the big set piece speeches where his admirable striving for realism rather than Olivier-style acting left his fast speaking occasionally drowned by music or sound effects. The music was impressive, with some fine singing by the cast and good use of (relatively recent) rock and pop to stress the contemporary setting. We were also treated to more songs in the foyer during the interval where some of the actors performed to raise funds for a respite care charity: they have collected more than £5,000 so far on their tour, which only started in November. I really enjoyed the show: Propeller made it an engaging and entertaining tale which kept my attention throughout. Henry V is not Shakespeare’s best plot (it’s mostly one battle after another with a few short pauses in between) but I was reminded of its crucial significance as a pivot between the other history plays. So many of the nuances are much more poignant if you are familiar with the two Henry IV plays. On the night before Agincourt, Henry V worries that he may be doomed to atone for his father’s sin in deposing Richard II. And this play finishes with The Chorus foretelling the failures of Henry VI and the onset of the Wars of the Roses.
Thursday, December 01, 2011
'The Killing (Forbrydelsen)' by Søren Sveistrup
1 December 2011
She's back! How wonderful to be back in Copenhagen with Sarah Lund for the second series of the Danish TV series 'The Killing' (Forbrydelsen). If you missed the amazing first series and are still wondering what all the fuss was about I would recommend leaping straight into 'The Killing II'. The new series is a completely separate story with an almost entirely new cast of characters and you really don't have to have watched the original to enjoy it. 'The Killing' is a police procedural thriller serial set in Copenhagen. What makes it special is the quality of the plot (written by Søren Sveistrup), the acting and the length of the story. The first series consisted of 20 hour-long episodes, each representing one day in the investigation of a single crime. The luxury of having 20 hours to explore the characters of the various suspects and their investigators allowed a depth you rarely see in TV detective dramas. (If 20 episodes seems a bit daunting, the second series is only 10 hours long!) And don't be put off by the fact that 'The Killing' is in Danish with English subtitles: like all the best foreign dramas it's so good that, afterwards, you will struggle to remember that it was subtitled. Although 'The Killing' shows us events from the viewpoints of all the main protagonists, it is always careful never to reveal anything to the viewer that the police don't know - so you have the same opportunity to work out what happened as those investigating. To make the plot last for so many episodes there are, inevitably, a series of red herrings. But each innocent suspect, for whom there appears to be compelling evidence of guilt, turns out to have an extremely plausible explanation for their suspicious behaviour. This is a very sobering lesson in how easy it is to convince yourself that someone must be the murderer on purely circumstantial evidence. Both series feature a strong political subplot and the power games between the politicians, the media and the police form a fascinating backdrop. But the heart of 'The Killing' is police officer Sarah Lund played by Sofie Gråbøl as a very believable human being. Lund's very gradual descent into instability, driven by her obsession with solving the murder of Nana Birk Larsen was so carefully portrayed that the disastrous consequences of her actions took us as much by surprise as they did her. Sarah Lund is a very cleverly drawn character: her colleagues (and us viewers) feel she is able to spot things that the other police miss - she seems to have an extra level of intuition. But she is a real, believable character, not an infallible Sherlock Holmes: she doesn't have special powers and her hunches often prove to be misguided. This creates a peculiar fascination in the viewer: you are rooting for Sarah and urging her colleagues to listen to her while simultaneously worrying that she might be going down completely the wrong path. It's brilliantly done. 'The Killing II' is on BBC4 on Saturday evenings but don't worry if you've missed the first few episodes: the whole series will also be available on BBC iPlayer until 24 December. (And I haven't even mentioned the jumpers!)
She's back! How wonderful to be back in Copenhagen with Sarah Lund for the second series of the Danish TV series 'The Killing' (Forbrydelsen). If you missed the amazing first series and are still wondering what all the fuss was about I would recommend leaping straight into 'The Killing II'. The new series is a completely separate story with an almost entirely new cast of characters and you really don't have to have watched the original to enjoy it. 'The Killing' is a police procedural thriller serial set in Copenhagen. What makes it special is the quality of the plot (written by Søren Sveistrup), the acting and the length of the story. The first series consisted of 20 hour-long episodes, each representing one day in the investigation of a single crime. The luxury of having 20 hours to explore the characters of the various suspects and their investigators allowed a depth you rarely see in TV detective dramas. (If 20 episodes seems a bit daunting, the second series is only 10 hours long!) And don't be put off by the fact that 'The Killing' is in Danish with English subtitles: like all the best foreign dramas it's so good that, afterwards, you will struggle to remember that it was subtitled. Although 'The Killing' shows us events from the viewpoints of all the main protagonists, it is always careful never to reveal anything to the viewer that the police don't know - so you have the same opportunity to work out what happened as those investigating. To make the plot last for so many episodes there are, inevitably, a series of red herrings. But each innocent suspect, for whom there appears to be compelling evidence of guilt, turns out to have an extremely plausible explanation for their suspicious behaviour. This is a very sobering lesson in how easy it is to convince yourself that someone must be the murderer on purely circumstantial evidence. Both series feature a strong political subplot and the power games between the politicians, the media and the police form a fascinating backdrop. But the heart of 'The Killing' is police officer Sarah Lund played by Sofie Gråbøl as a very believable human being. Lund's very gradual descent into instability, driven by her obsession with solving the murder of Nana Birk Larsen was so carefully portrayed that the disastrous consequences of her actions took us as much by surprise as they did her. Sarah Lund is a very cleverly drawn character: her colleagues (and us viewers) feel she is able to spot things that the other police miss - she seems to have an extra level of intuition. But she is a real, believable character, not an infallible Sherlock Holmes: she doesn't have special powers and her hunches often prove to be misguided. This creates a peculiar fascination in the viewer: you are rooting for Sarah and urging her colleagues to listen to her while simultaneously worrying that she might be going down completely the wrong path. It's brilliantly done. 'The Killing II' is on BBC4 on Saturday evenings but don't worry if you've missed the first few episodes: the whole series will also be available on BBC iPlayer until 24 December. (And I haven't even mentioned the jumpers!)
Friday, November 25, 2011
’50 Words for Snow’ by Kate Bush
25 November 2011
It’s hard to think of any other serious musician whose reputation could not only survive but appear to have been enhanced by an Elvis impression, a washing-machine fixation and a duet with Rolf Harris (all on her 2005 album, ‘Aerial’). Those of us who grew up fascinated by Kate Bush’s voice would probably be happy to listen to her reading the telephone directory. We get close to this on her new album but, unfortunately, it is Stephen Fry’s voice, rather than Kate Bush herself, that is given the task of reverentially intoning 50 (made-up) Words for Snow to Bush’s musical encouragement on the title track. ’50 Words for Snow’ is a quiet, contemplative collection of songs, mostly accompanied by gentle piano chords. It’s a beautiful work, despite continuing to sail mischievously close to self-parody (including a sexual encounter with a snowman!). Kate Bush’s celebrity pulling power seems stronger even than that of Ricky Gervais, with Elton John the guest vocalist on ‘Snowed in at Wheeler Street’. Much as I have been enjoying ‘Ceremonials’, the new album from Florence + The Machine, which sounds a lot like Kate Bush in rock-mode (I particularly like the opening track ‘Only If For A Night’ with its bell-ringing descending scales), it is no substitute for the real thing. More please!
It’s hard to think of any other serious musician whose reputation could not only survive but appear to have been enhanced by an Elvis impression, a washing-machine fixation and a duet with Rolf Harris (all on her 2005 album, ‘Aerial’). Those of us who grew up fascinated by Kate Bush’s voice would probably be happy to listen to her reading the telephone directory. We get close to this on her new album but, unfortunately, it is Stephen Fry’s voice, rather than Kate Bush herself, that is given the task of reverentially intoning 50 (made-up) Words for Snow to Bush’s musical encouragement on the title track. ’50 Words for Snow’ is a quiet, contemplative collection of songs, mostly accompanied by gentle piano chords. It’s a beautiful work, despite continuing to sail mischievously close to self-parody (including a sexual encounter with a snowman!). Kate Bush’s celebrity pulling power seems stronger even than that of Ricky Gervais, with Elton John the guest vocalist on ‘Snowed in at Wheeler Street’. Much as I have been enjoying ‘Ceremonials’, the new album from Florence + The Machine, which sounds a lot like Kate Bush in rock-mode (I particularly like the opening track ‘Only If For A Night’ with its bell-ringing descending scales), it is no substitute for the real thing. More please!
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert
15 November 2011
Having been practising Mahler’s 6th Symphony almost every day since early August, it feels very strange now that our performance has been and gone. In the last few days leading up to Saturday’s Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert I found myself increasingly paranoid that I was going to trip and bang my lip or fall prey to some other mishap that would prevent me from playing the 1st Horn part. In the event I made it to the concert intact and I think it all went incredibly well – though it’s very hard to judge when you are in the middle of it. I know there were no major disasters – we didn’t have to stop and start again and I don’t think I missed any of my solo passages. Having worked so hard on my stamina I was pleased to get through the 80 minutes of the symphony and still to be able to hit the high notes towards the end. But even though I had ensured I was physically capable of playing my part, it’s amazing what an effect nerves can have. As you approach a delicate solo you become more and more aware of how fleeting the opportunity is to get it right. You are thinking how many times you have played the phrase perfectly over the past few months and how awful it would be if something went wrong in the one brief chance you have to play it for real in the performance. These mind games are pernicious: even half-way through a solo there’s a danger that you think to yourself “actually this seems to be going okay”, only to distract yourself and fall apart. It’s an incredibly draining challenge of physical stamina, mental strength and concentration. I’m sure our performance was by no means perfect but Mahler 6 was a fantastically ambitious undertaking and I think we managed to present a very reasonable account of it, which included some truly exquisite moments. It was certainly incredibly loud, with an enlarged orchestra, including a massive brass section, creating a deafening climax. It was wonderful to have eight excellent horn players alongside me and I think we made quite an impressive section. The show was somewhat stolen, however, by the ‘Mahler box’ constructed specially for the occasion by Nick Bunker. The final movement of the symphony (which lasts a mammoth 30 minutes on its own) is punctuated by three massive hammer blows of fate. Mahler specified that these hammer blows should be "brief and mighty, but dull in resonance and with a non-metallic character (like the fall of an axe)”. For our performance Nick made a large wooden cube which was struck, by percussionist Keith Crompton, using a heavy log attached to a long broom handle. It created an amazing sound – and resulted in the violinists sitting immediately in front of it jumping several feet in the air each time it was struck! There is quite a good example of a similar realisation of the hammer blow at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UwljE3HsfSM and you can see our Mahler box at http://culturaloutlook.blogspot.com/2011/11/our-mahler-box.html. The first half of our concert saw an excellent performance of the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto by Charlotte Skinner who was confident, assured and lyrical. As I wasn’t playing in the concerto, sitting at the back of the audience to watch it was a relaxing way to prepare for the daunting challenge of the symphony. By the end of the concert I was exhilarated, proud, relieved and totally shattered. I’ve really enjoyed the experience of playing Mahler 6 but I’m pleased it’s now over and I’m looking forward to playing something slightly less demanding next!
Having been practising Mahler’s 6th Symphony almost every day since early August, it feels very strange now that our performance has been and gone. In the last few days leading up to Saturday’s Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert I found myself increasingly paranoid that I was going to trip and bang my lip or fall prey to some other mishap that would prevent me from playing the 1st Horn part. In the event I made it to the concert intact and I think it all went incredibly well – though it’s very hard to judge when you are in the middle of it. I know there were no major disasters – we didn’t have to stop and start again and I don’t think I missed any of my solo passages. Having worked so hard on my stamina I was pleased to get through the 80 minutes of the symphony and still to be able to hit the high notes towards the end. But even though I had ensured I was physically capable of playing my part, it’s amazing what an effect nerves can have. As you approach a delicate solo you become more and more aware of how fleeting the opportunity is to get it right. You are thinking how many times you have played the phrase perfectly over the past few months and how awful it would be if something went wrong in the one brief chance you have to play it for real in the performance. These mind games are pernicious: even half-way through a solo there’s a danger that you think to yourself “actually this seems to be going okay”, only to distract yourself and fall apart. It’s an incredibly draining challenge of physical stamina, mental strength and concentration. I’m sure our performance was by no means perfect but Mahler 6 was a fantastically ambitious undertaking and I think we managed to present a very reasonable account of it, which included some truly exquisite moments. It was certainly incredibly loud, with an enlarged orchestra, including a massive brass section, creating a deafening climax. It was wonderful to have eight excellent horn players alongside me and I think we made quite an impressive section. The show was somewhat stolen, however, by the ‘Mahler box’ constructed specially for the occasion by Nick Bunker. The final movement of the symphony (which lasts a mammoth 30 minutes on its own) is punctuated by three massive hammer blows of fate. Mahler specified that these hammer blows should be "brief and mighty, but dull in resonance and with a non-metallic character (like the fall of an axe)”. For our performance Nick made a large wooden cube which was struck, by percussionist Keith Crompton, using a heavy log attached to a long broom handle. It created an amazing sound – and resulted in the violinists sitting immediately in front of it jumping several feet in the air each time it was struck! There is quite a good example of a similar realisation of the hammer blow at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UwljE3HsfSM and you can see our Mahler box at http://culturaloutlook.blogspot.com/2011/11/our-mahler-box.html. The first half of our concert saw an excellent performance of the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto by Charlotte Skinner who was confident, assured and lyrical. As I wasn’t playing in the concerto, sitting at the back of the audience to watch it was a relaxing way to prepare for the daunting challenge of the symphony. By the end of the concert I was exhilarated, proud, relieved and totally shattered. I’ve really enjoyed the experience of playing Mahler 6 but I’m pleased it’s now over and I’m looking forward to playing something slightly less demanding next!
'La Bohème' by Giacomo Puccini
15 November 2011
We were at Milton Keynes Theatre last Friday to see the Glyndebourne on Tour production of La Bohème by Giacomo Puccini. This was the first Puccini opera I had seen and the music was wonderful – sumptuous, romantic, beautiful and, yes, sentimental – but none the worse for it. This revival of the 2000 Glyndebourne on Tour production, directed by David McVicar, is set in a grittily contemporary Paris, with an uncompromisingly urban set designed by Michael Vale. The grotty flat in which the four young men live looked strangely familiar – and when they are visited by their landlord in search of his rent I realised that we were watching an episode of ‘The Young Ones’, albeit with better singing! Writing in the programme, Nicholas Payne, suggested that ‘La Bohème’ is the perfect length. He says that “Puccini, and his librettists, Giuseppe Giacoso and Luigi Illica struggled for three years to find a coherent shape for their incidents chosen from Henri Murger’s novel ‘Scènes de la vie de bohème’” and that “with hindsight we can appreciate that it was Puccini’s pernicketiness which forged that unique mixture of the conversational and the lyrical that is the opera’s trademark”. I would agree that the opera does not overstay its welcome but it seemed to me that, by cherry-picking a number of incidents from the novel, the plot felt oddly unbalanced and disjointed. There are moments of great comedy that sit uneasily against the final angst and tragedy. And it seems a great shame to have constructed such a wonderful set-piece second act (in the Café Momus) which makes great use of a massive chorus and finishes with the show-stealing aria ‘Quando me’n vo’ soletta’ (gorgeously sung by Natasha Jouhl as Musetta in this production) only for the chorus to completely disappear as the opera moves to its bleak finale. Nevertheless the music was wonderful and the singing and playing (conducted by Jeremy Bines) was excellent.
We were at Milton Keynes Theatre last Friday to see the Glyndebourne on Tour production of La Bohème by Giacomo Puccini. This was the first Puccini opera I had seen and the music was wonderful – sumptuous, romantic, beautiful and, yes, sentimental – but none the worse for it. This revival of the 2000 Glyndebourne on Tour production, directed by David McVicar, is set in a grittily contemporary Paris, with an uncompromisingly urban set designed by Michael Vale. The grotty flat in which the four young men live looked strangely familiar – and when they are visited by their landlord in search of his rent I realised that we were watching an episode of ‘The Young Ones’, albeit with better singing! Writing in the programme, Nicholas Payne, suggested that ‘La Bohème’ is the perfect length. He says that “Puccini, and his librettists, Giuseppe Giacoso and Luigi Illica struggled for three years to find a coherent shape for their incidents chosen from Henri Murger’s novel ‘Scènes de la vie de bohème’” and that “with hindsight we can appreciate that it was Puccini’s pernicketiness which forged that unique mixture of the conversational and the lyrical that is the opera’s trademark”. I would agree that the opera does not overstay its welcome but it seemed to me that, by cherry-picking a number of incidents from the novel, the plot felt oddly unbalanced and disjointed. There are moments of great comedy that sit uneasily against the final angst and tragedy. And it seems a great shame to have constructed such a wonderful set-piece second act (in the Café Momus) which makes great use of a massive chorus and finishes with the show-stealing aria ‘Quando me’n vo’ soletta’ (gorgeously sung by Natasha Jouhl as Musetta in this production) only for the chorus to completely disappear as the opera moves to its bleak finale. Nevertheless the music was wonderful and the singing and playing (conducted by Jeremy Bines) was excellent.
Friday, November 11, 2011
'The Go-Between' by David Wood and Richard Taylor, based on the novel by L P Hartley
11 November 2011
"The past is a foreign country: they
do things differently there". I had heard of ‘The Go-Between’ by L P
Hartley but I haven’t read the book or seen the 1970 film adaptation by Harold
Pinter and, before going to see the new stage version at the Royal & Derngate
in Northampton last week, I didn’t really know what it was about. Published in
1953, the novel describes Leo Colston looking back, in 1950, to his childhood
experiences as the house guest of a wealthy family in Norfolk in the summer of
1900. His boyhood role as ‘postman’, passing messages between two illicit
lovers, leads to a devastating conclusion that affected him for the rest of his
life. The stage version, by David Wood with music by Richard Taylor, turns the
story into a serious musical, almost sung-through, reminding me of Sondheim and
not far from contemporary opera. The production, directed by Roger Haines, was a
collaboration between the Royal & Derngate, Derby Live and West Yorkshire
Playhouse and it was excellent. The cast were all strong and the singing was
very impressive but the show was stolen by the two local boys, Adam Bradbury as
Marcus and particularly William Miles as Leo who was on stage almost
constantly. The story was carefully and effectively told in a very theatrical
style which left much to the imagination. I particularly enjoyed James Staddon
as the older Leo, shadowing the actions of his younger self while watching from
the back of the stage. The music was provided by an onstage grand piano played
by Musical Director Jonathan Gill. It was an entertaining, moving and extremely
high-quality evening in the theatre.
Friday, November 04, 2011
'Symphony No 6' by Gustav Mahler
4 November 2011
Mahler’s 6th Symphony is a mammoth work: it lasts 80 minutes and requires an orchestra of nearly 100 players. Rather than the usual 4 French horns, there are 8 horns and the 1st horn part is fiendishly difficult. In most orchestral works, as a horn player you can expect to spend a fair amount of time counting the rests before you next come in but in Mahler 6 the 1st horn barely has more than a few seconds break in the whole piece. There are pages and pages of extremely high and loud notes, interspersed with plenty of delicate, exposed solos. When the Northampton Symphony Orchestra decided to take on the gargantuan challenge of performing the 6th Symphony it was in the knowledge that the daunting 1st horn part would be in the safe hands of our excellent principal horn player, David Lack. When it became clear that Dave was sadly going to miss the concert through illness, I was persuaded to step up to the challenge. Tackling this incredible work is a very exciting opportunity but one that I would much rather have had in different circumstances. The symphony has been dominating my life for the past 3 months. Since 7 August, apart from a week in Paris, a week in Northumberland and the occasional night away for work, I have played at least one movement of the work every day. Wary of the need to build my stamina, every Saturday and Sunday I have tried to play through all four movements without stopping. Finding 80 minutes to sit down and practice has been hard enough but the physical endurance necessary to play all the way through the symphony took some weeks to build up. Fortunately I won’t need to play every single note in the performance. It’s common practice in larger orchestral works to have an additional horn player ‘bumping’ the first horn part, ie doubling the first horn to allow the principal horn player to save himself for the solo passages, and I know I’m going to need this. I now know Mahler’s 6th Symphony intimately: it seems to be playing in my head most of the time at the moment. I like to practice by playing along with recordings and thanks to Spotify I’ve been working through heaps of different recordings (Sir Simon Rattle’s interpretation seems to be the slowest, Leonard Bernstein’s definitely the fastest, but I think my favourite is Claudio Abbado with the Berlin Philharmonic). At this Wednesday’s rehearsal we had all 9 horn players together for the first time – boy, it’s going to be loud! It’s an incredible work – passionate, playful, sentimental, brutal, triumphant and tragic, with lots of cowbells. If you are anywhere remotely within range of Northampton next Saturday, 12 November, please do join us for what promises to be an amazing concert – also including the lovely Mendelssohn Violin Concerto, played by Charlotte Skinner. Full details and tickets available from http://www.nso.org.uk/ – wish me luck!
Mahler’s 6th Symphony is a mammoth work: it lasts 80 minutes and requires an orchestra of nearly 100 players. Rather than the usual 4 French horns, there are 8 horns and the 1st horn part is fiendishly difficult. In most orchestral works, as a horn player you can expect to spend a fair amount of time counting the rests before you next come in but in Mahler 6 the 1st horn barely has more than a few seconds break in the whole piece. There are pages and pages of extremely high and loud notes, interspersed with plenty of delicate, exposed solos. When the Northampton Symphony Orchestra decided to take on the gargantuan challenge of performing the 6th Symphony it was in the knowledge that the daunting 1st horn part would be in the safe hands of our excellent principal horn player, David Lack. When it became clear that Dave was sadly going to miss the concert through illness, I was persuaded to step up to the challenge. Tackling this incredible work is a very exciting opportunity but one that I would much rather have had in different circumstances. The symphony has been dominating my life for the past 3 months. Since 7 August, apart from a week in Paris, a week in Northumberland and the occasional night away for work, I have played at least one movement of the work every day. Wary of the need to build my stamina, every Saturday and Sunday I have tried to play through all four movements without stopping. Finding 80 minutes to sit down and practice has been hard enough but the physical endurance necessary to play all the way through the symphony took some weeks to build up. Fortunately I won’t need to play every single note in the performance. It’s common practice in larger orchestral works to have an additional horn player ‘bumping’ the first horn part, ie doubling the first horn to allow the principal horn player to save himself for the solo passages, and I know I’m going to need this. I now know Mahler’s 6th Symphony intimately: it seems to be playing in my head most of the time at the moment. I like to practice by playing along with recordings and thanks to Spotify I’ve been working through heaps of different recordings (Sir Simon Rattle’s interpretation seems to be the slowest, Leonard Bernstein’s definitely the fastest, but I think my favourite is Claudio Abbado with the Berlin Philharmonic). At this Wednesday’s rehearsal we had all 9 horn players together for the first time – boy, it’s going to be loud! It’s an incredible work – passionate, playful, sentimental, brutal, triumphant and tragic, with lots of cowbells. If you are anywhere remotely within range of Northampton next Saturday, 12 November, please do join us for what promises to be an amazing concert – also including the lovely Mendelssohn Violin Concerto, played by Charlotte Skinner. Full details and tickets available from http://www.nso.org.uk/ – wish me luck!
Friday, October 28, 2011
‘Fatou’ by Fatoumata Diawara
28 October 2011
I first saw the young Malian singer Fatoumata Diawara providing backing vocals for the legendary Oumou Sangaré at the 2009 WOMAD Festival (reviewed here in July 2009). I saw her again at this year’s WOMAD Festival where she appeared on the BBC Radio 3 Stage with her own band to perform songs from her forthcoming debut album. That album, ‘Fatou’, was released in September and I’ve been listening to it this week. Fatoumata Diawara comes from Southern Mali and sings in the Wassalou style, familiar to me from Oumou Sangaré (reviewed here in March 2009) and that other great contemporary Malian singer Rokia Traoré (reviewed here in December 2008). Like Rokia Traoré, Fatoumata Diawara now lives in France and her music shows some European influences. Her voice is gentler than Oumou Sangaré and more laid-back than the breathy intensity of Rokia Traoré. And the songs on ‘Fatou’ are lovely – gentle, catchy, joyful, distinctively West African but easily accessible to European ears. Perhaps not as musically ambitious as Rokia Traoré or quite so concerned with political messages as Oumou Sangaré (though she does deal with some important social issues) Fatoumata Diawara has created an album which is sophisticated easy-listening.
I first saw the young Malian singer Fatoumata Diawara providing backing vocals for the legendary Oumou Sangaré at the 2009 WOMAD Festival (reviewed here in July 2009). I saw her again at this year’s WOMAD Festival where she appeared on the BBC Radio 3 Stage with her own band to perform songs from her forthcoming debut album. That album, ‘Fatou’, was released in September and I’ve been listening to it this week. Fatoumata Diawara comes from Southern Mali and sings in the Wassalou style, familiar to me from Oumou Sangaré (reviewed here in March 2009) and that other great contemporary Malian singer Rokia Traoré (reviewed here in December 2008). Like Rokia Traoré, Fatoumata Diawara now lives in France and her music shows some European influences. Her voice is gentler than Oumou Sangaré and more laid-back than the breathy intensity of Rokia Traoré. And the songs on ‘Fatou’ are lovely – gentle, catchy, joyful, distinctively West African but easily accessible to European ears. Perhaps not as musically ambitious as Rokia Traoré or quite so concerned with political messages as Oumou Sangaré (though she does deal with some important social issues) Fatoumata Diawara has created an album which is sophisticated easy-listening.
Friday, October 21, 2011
'South Pacific' by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II
21 October 2011
‘South Pacific’ by Rodgers and Hammerstein was the first musical I played for as a member of a pit band. It was a production by the excellent Westwood Musical Society at the Key Theatre in Peterborough in 1991. We did more than a week of performances, at the end of which I knew the score inside out and could recite huge chunks of the dialogue. But, being in the orchestra pit, I never actually saw the show and some aspects of the plot have never entirely made sense to me. Twenty years later I’ve finally got around to seeing ‘South Pacific’ for the first time. We were at Milton Keynes Theatre last Saturday to see the acclaimed production from the Lincoln Center, New York. It was a very straightforward revival which didn’t attempt anything particular innovative or revisionist but it was excellently done. In the same way as Shakespeare seems to have inserted lots of famous lines into ‘Hamlet’, Rodgers and Hammerstein seem to have stuck a load of very well known songs together to make a musical. It’s an impressive show that includes ‘Some Enchanted Evening’, ‘There is Nothin' Like a Dame’, ‘I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair’, ‘A Wonderful Guy’ and ‘Happy Talk’. The music was wonderful and the cast were very strong, particularly Samantha Womack as Nellie Forbush and the operatic baritone Jason Howard as Emile de Becque. I enjoyed the choreography (by Joe Langworth) but I could have done with more. I’m always a little disappointed with a musical that doesn’t have a really big dance number. And though I now finally understand the story, ‘South Pacific’ is not the most impressive of plots. Nevertheless the music is so good it doesn’t need much assistance and I really enjoyed the show.
‘South Pacific’ by Rodgers and Hammerstein was the first musical I played for as a member of a pit band. It was a production by the excellent Westwood Musical Society at the Key Theatre in Peterborough in 1991. We did more than a week of performances, at the end of which I knew the score inside out and could recite huge chunks of the dialogue. But, being in the orchestra pit, I never actually saw the show and some aspects of the plot have never entirely made sense to me. Twenty years later I’ve finally got around to seeing ‘South Pacific’ for the first time. We were at Milton Keynes Theatre last Saturday to see the acclaimed production from the Lincoln Center, New York. It was a very straightforward revival which didn’t attempt anything particular innovative or revisionist but it was excellently done. In the same way as Shakespeare seems to have inserted lots of famous lines into ‘Hamlet’, Rodgers and Hammerstein seem to have stuck a load of very well known songs together to make a musical. It’s an impressive show that includes ‘Some Enchanted Evening’, ‘There is Nothin' Like a Dame’, ‘I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair’, ‘A Wonderful Guy’ and ‘Happy Talk’. The music was wonderful and the cast were very strong, particularly Samantha Womack as Nellie Forbush and the operatic baritone Jason Howard as Emile de Becque. I enjoyed the choreography (by Joe Langworth) but I could have done with more. I’m always a little disappointed with a musical that doesn’t have a really big dance number. And though I now finally understand the story, ‘South Pacific’ is not the most impressive of plots. Nevertheless the music is so good it doesn’t need much assistance and I really enjoyed the show.
Friday, October 14, 2011
'Comedy Carpet' by Gordon Young
14 October 2011
It was great to have the opportunity to see Blackpool's new Comedy Carpet – an amazing artwork by Gordon Young featuring the catchphrases, jokes and names of more than 1,000 comedians which was unveiled by Ken Dodd at the foot of Blackpool Tower earlier this week. There has been massive worldwide interest in the Comedy Carpet: it was temporarily the most searched for term on Google. The ‘carpet’ is built from concrete and coloured granite and designed to withstand both the thousands of feet that will walk across it and the Blackpool weather. Encountering it for the first time is a compelling experience: the various catchphrases are all in different fonts, colours and sizes and face in different directions so you have to keep walking around to see the words that are initially upside down to you. This draws you in as you keep spotting another familiar phrase and trying to remember who said it. While there were plenty of old favourites I found quite a few lines I didn’t recognise and I kept smiling as I got the gist of another pun or witty aphorism for the first time. I suspect we will all have our favourites and I certainly found myself returning to the large words “I’m playing all the right notes – but not necessarily in the right order”. See: http://www.blackpoolgazette.co.uk/lifestyle/legend_unveils_comedy_carpet_1_3857375
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| Comedy Carpet, Blackpool |
It was great to have the opportunity to see Blackpool's new Comedy Carpet – an amazing artwork by Gordon Young featuring the catchphrases, jokes and names of more than 1,000 comedians which was unveiled by Ken Dodd at the foot of Blackpool Tower earlier this week. There has been massive worldwide interest in the Comedy Carpet: it was temporarily the most searched for term on Google. The ‘carpet’ is built from concrete and coloured granite and designed to withstand both the thousands of feet that will walk across it and the Blackpool weather. Encountering it for the first time is a compelling experience: the various catchphrases are all in different fonts, colours and sizes and face in different directions so you have to keep walking around to see the words that are initially upside down to you. This draws you in as you keep spotting another familiar phrase and trying to remember who said it. While there were plenty of old favourites I found quite a few lines I didn’t recognise and I kept smiling as I got the gist of another pun or witty aphorism for the first time. I suspect we will all have our favourites and I certainly found myself returning to the large words “I’m playing all the right notes – but not necessarily in the right order”. See: http://www.blackpoolgazette.co.uk/lifestyle/legend_unveils_comedy_carpet_1_3857375
Friday, October 07, 2011
'One Man, Two Guvnors' by Richard Bean
7 October 2011
On Saturday we made a first visit to the lovely Waterside Theatre in Aylesbury to see the National Theatre production of ‘One Man, Two Guvnors’ by Richard Bean. Based on Carlo Goldoni’s 1746 play ‘The Servant of Two Masters’, this production has been a big commercial hit for the National Theatre and a star vehicle for James Corden, reunited with the director Nicholas Hytner for the first time since ‘The History Boys’. Set in Brighton in 1963, ‘One Man, Two Guvnors’ is broad tongue-in-cheek comedy played for laughs but it’s very well done and extremely funny. The Waterside Theatre was completely sold out and much of the audiences was in stitches throughout. There was plenty of audience participation and ad-libbing, some great physical comedy and a wonderful cast. It is interesting to note that Goldoni was criticised for taking the usually completely improvised Commedia dell’Arte tradition and writing it down but, in doing so, he succeeded in preserving the style for centuries. The action of ‘One Man, Two Guvnors’ is supplemented by a four-piece Beatles-style band (playing original songs by Grant Olding) who spring from the orchestra pit to play in front of the curtains during each scene change. They are joined, in turn, by a series of members of the cast (including Corden on xylophone) who perform a variety of party-pieces. James Corden is very funny and clearly the star of the show but Oliver Chris also stood out as the public-school educated bully. It was an excellent, feel-good evening in the theatre.
On Saturday we made a first visit to the lovely Waterside Theatre in Aylesbury to see the National Theatre production of ‘One Man, Two Guvnors’ by Richard Bean. Based on Carlo Goldoni’s 1746 play ‘The Servant of Two Masters’, this production has been a big commercial hit for the National Theatre and a star vehicle for James Corden, reunited with the director Nicholas Hytner for the first time since ‘The History Boys’. Set in Brighton in 1963, ‘One Man, Two Guvnors’ is broad tongue-in-cheek comedy played for laughs but it’s very well done and extremely funny. The Waterside Theatre was completely sold out and much of the audiences was in stitches throughout. There was plenty of audience participation and ad-libbing, some great physical comedy and a wonderful cast. It is interesting to note that Goldoni was criticised for taking the usually completely improvised Commedia dell’Arte tradition and writing it down but, in doing so, he succeeded in preserving the style for centuries. The action of ‘One Man, Two Guvnors’ is supplemented by a four-piece Beatles-style band (playing original songs by Grant Olding) who spring from the orchestra pit to play in front of the curtains during each scene change. They are joined, in turn, by a series of members of the cast (including Corden on xylophone) who perform a variety of party-pieces. James Corden is very funny and clearly the star of the show but Oliver Chris also stood out as the public-school educated bully. It was an excellent, feel-good evening in the theatre.
'Fawlty Towers' by John Cleese and Connie Booth
7 October 2011
On Friday we returned to the tiny theatre in Toddington to see TADS take on ‘Fawlty Towers’. This was a straight presentation of two episodes of the much cherished 1970s sitcom by John Cleese and Connie Booth. I must admit I was dubious as to whether this would work on stage. ‘The Germans’ and ‘Basil the Rat’ are so familiar that most of the audience could probably have chanted along with the dialogue. And the characters of Basil Fawlty, Sybil, Manuel etc. have become so iconic there was a real danger that any attempt to act these parts again now would just seem like impersonations of John Cleese, Prunella Scales, Andrew Sachs et al. It was great testament to the skills of the TADS actors, excellently directed by James Sygrove, that they managed to create a believable set of characters that drew you into the plot and (almost) made you temporarily forget the originals. When Basil said “Don’t mention the war – I mentioned it once but I think I got away with it”, the line was perfectly in context (and therefore very funny) rather than sounding like the repetition of well-worn catchphrase. The Fawlty Towers scripts were very much of their time and some elements sounded a little uncomfortable to contemporary ears. But Fawlty Towers is excellent farce and the timing in the TADS production generated some hilarious moments (even though we knew they were coming). With a large cast crammed onto a small stage, it was some achievement to get the slapstick to work so well. Matt Flitton stood out as Basil Fawlty – a wonderful performance – but all the actors were impressive, particularly Susie Condor as Sybil Fawlty and David Sachon as The Major.
On Friday we returned to the tiny theatre in Toddington to see TADS take on ‘Fawlty Towers’. This was a straight presentation of two episodes of the much cherished 1970s sitcom by John Cleese and Connie Booth. I must admit I was dubious as to whether this would work on stage. ‘The Germans’ and ‘Basil the Rat’ are so familiar that most of the audience could probably have chanted along with the dialogue. And the characters of Basil Fawlty, Sybil, Manuel etc. have become so iconic there was a real danger that any attempt to act these parts again now would just seem like impersonations of John Cleese, Prunella Scales, Andrew Sachs et al. It was great testament to the skills of the TADS actors, excellently directed by James Sygrove, that they managed to create a believable set of characters that drew you into the plot and (almost) made you temporarily forget the originals. When Basil said “Don’t mention the war – I mentioned it once but I think I got away with it”, the line was perfectly in context (and therefore very funny) rather than sounding like the repetition of well-worn catchphrase. The Fawlty Towers scripts were very much of their time and some elements sounded a little uncomfortable to contemporary ears. But Fawlty Towers is excellent farce and the timing in the TADS production generated some hilarious moments (even though we knew they were coming). With a large cast crammed onto a small stage, it was some achievement to get the slapstick to work so well. Matt Flitton stood out as Basil Fawlty – a wonderful performance – but all the actors were impressive, particularly Susie Condor as Sybil Fawlty and David Sachon as The Major.
Friday, September 30, 2011
‘The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ’ by Philip Pullman
30 September 2011
With the ‘His Dark Materials’ trilogy of
children’s books Philip Pullman clearly decided to cock-a-snook at organised
religion. In ‘The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ’ he goes a step
further in attempting to retell the life of Christ. It’s an odd book: it seems
to be an attempt to present a believable account of ordinary events that could
have created myths that became the Gospels. Pullman suggests that Jesus had a
brother (how would we know what happened to Jesus in the wilderness or in the
Garden of Gethsemane unless there had been someone else there?) and even uses
this device to explain the resurrection. But the tone often veers from rational
explanation into the cheeky or facetious – which can be quite funny, depending
on your beliefs. Though his prose is modern (and often quite forthright) the book
is structured like a Gospel. It’s an interesting read but I found Pullman’s
lengthy Afterword, which discusses the narrative structure of the Gospels, much
more interesting. Here you realise that his real interest in writing the book
was not in exactly what happened two thousand years ago but in the way the
story was told.
‘Trumpet’ by Jackie Kay
30 September 2011
‘Trumpet’ is the first novel by the poet
Jackie Kay. It was published in 1998 and is an intriguing and moving work. The
death of a famous jazz trumpeter reveals a long-hidden secret which shocks those
who knew the musician. The novel shows us the reactions of a range of people
including family members, friends and those involved in the aftermath of the
death such as the undertaker, the registrar and the journalist who wants to
write an exposing biography. With each chapter allowing us to see things
through the eyes of a particular individual, the novel inhabits a variety of
voices, each believable and sympathetic. Their varying testimonies help to
piece together the jigsaw of a life but Jackie Kay impressively keeps the reader
hooked and eager for more without the assistance of any real forward narrative.
Even the memories of the trumpeter’s life don’t really build into a linear
story. It’s hard to describe but ‘Trumpet’ is a clever, beautifully written
portrait of a life that is both sad and uplifting.
Northumberland
30 September 2011
We had a lovely time in Northumberland last
week. We were staying in the tiny hamlet of Thorngrafton, just South of
Hadrian’s Wall – no far from the town of Haltwhistle, which claims to be the
Centre of Britain. We did some great walks along the Wall, in Allendale and on
the banks of Keilder Water. We visited the Housesteads and Vindolanda Roman
forts. Vindolanda was particularly interesting – lots to see and new
discoveries being made all the time. The collection of wooden tablets with
messages inscribed on them in Latin was fascinating – the banality of many of
the messages (an invitation to a party, a request to borrow something etc)
reminding us that people in Roman Britain were not that different to ourselves
(these tablets being the emails of their day!). I was also reminded that most
of the ‘Romans’ building and protecting Hadrian’s Wall were not from Rome: they
were mostly soldiers from conquered territories in Belgium and the Netherlands.
Young men from Britain were similarly pressed into service as Roman soldiers in
other corners of the Empire.
Friday, September 16, 2011
'Atonement' by Ian McEwan
16 September 2011
For some years I have felt like I was the only person in the world who hadn’t read Ian McEwan’s 2001 novel ‘Atonement’. I’ve just finished the unabridged audio version of the book (wonderfully read by Carole Boyd) and I can now see what all the fuss was about. ‘Atonement’ starts in 1935 and appears to be firmly in the tradition of the great country house novel: it reminded me at times of ‘Brideshead Revisted’ and 'The Moonstone' by Wilkie Collins (reviewed here in June 2009). The third-person narration alternates, with each chapter, between the viewpoints of the main characters, slipping back a little in time with each change of perspective to fill in more details on some of the same events. This iterative approach to the narrative creates a jigsaw image of what happened that only gradually reveals itself. Later in the book, the passages dealing with the Second World War, play the same game more slowly as we spend longer in the company of each of three principal protagonists. This process of gradual revelation allows the reader to spot most of the main plot twists in advance – only for the author to undermine our smug satisfaction by casually confirming the predicted surprise as if it was assumed that everyone would already know. ‘Atonement’ deals with the end of childhood, both literally and in relation to the onset of the horrors of war. It also focuses on the changing nature of the English class system before and after the Second World War, much like 'The Little Stranger’ by Sarah Waters (reviewed here in June 2010). In both books an outsider from a lower social class has become attached to the family of the country house and this allows for reflections on the momentous changes happening in society at this time. But ‘Atonement’ is really about writing, the nature of fiction and the development of the novel. McEwan plays a dazzling game of meta-fiction, presenting an apparently conventional novel, then introducing self-reflective literary criticism of that novel within the same plot and finally pulling back to reveal the truth behind the construction of the story we have been immersed in. As you approach the final pages you realise that you should have been thinking about who was writing the words you have been reading and why. It’s an impressive work, beautifully written and heart-breakingly sad. I’m glad I finally got around to reading it.
For some years I have felt like I was the only person in the world who hadn’t read Ian McEwan’s 2001 novel ‘Atonement’. I’ve just finished the unabridged audio version of the book (wonderfully read by Carole Boyd) and I can now see what all the fuss was about. ‘Atonement’ starts in 1935 and appears to be firmly in the tradition of the great country house novel: it reminded me at times of ‘Brideshead Revisted’ and 'The Moonstone' by Wilkie Collins (reviewed here in June 2009). The third-person narration alternates, with each chapter, between the viewpoints of the main characters, slipping back a little in time with each change of perspective to fill in more details on some of the same events. This iterative approach to the narrative creates a jigsaw image of what happened that only gradually reveals itself. Later in the book, the passages dealing with the Second World War, play the same game more slowly as we spend longer in the company of each of three principal protagonists. This process of gradual revelation allows the reader to spot most of the main plot twists in advance – only for the author to undermine our smug satisfaction by casually confirming the predicted surprise as if it was assumed that everyone would already know. ‘Atonement’ deals with the end of childhood, both literally and in relation to the onset of the horrors of war. It also focuses on the changing nature of the English class system before and after the Second World War, much like 'The Little Stranger’ by Sarah Waters (reviewed here in June 2010). In both books an outsider from a lower social class has become attached to the family of the country house and this allows for reflections on the momentous changes happening in society at this time. But ‘Atonement’ is really about writing, the nature of fiction and the development of the novel. McEwan plays a dazzling game of meta-fiction, presenting an apparently conventional novel, then introducing self-reflective literary criticism of that novel within the same plot and finally pulling back to reveal the truth behind the construction of the story we have been immersed in. As you approach the final pages you realise that you should have been thinking about who was writing the words you have been reading and why. It’s an impressive work, beautifully written and heart-breakingly sad. I’m glad I finally got around to reading it.
Friday, September 09, 2011
‘The Hare With Amber Eyes’ by Edmund de Waal
9 September 2011
Netsuke are the tiny carved fasteners that
were used to secure cords to traditional robes in 17th century
Japan. These intricately carved pieces of ivory, boxwood or metal are miniature
sculptures that became highly valued as works of art. ‘The Hare With Amber Eyes’
by Edmund de Waal is an unusual and enthralling family history which focuses on
a collection of netsuke bought in the late 19th century and handed
down through generations of the author’s family. The wealthy Jewish Ephrussi family,
originally from Russia, settled across Europe in the second half of the 19th
century and, much like their contemporaries the Rothschilds, established a
network of banks. The collection of netsuke are bought by Charles Ephrussi in
Paris in the 1870s. Charles was a patron of the arts who commissioned works by
many of the most famous impressionists – and appears as a figure in the
background of some well-known paintings. Indeed the whole Ephrussi family has a
Zelig-like ability to appear in the background of major historical events. Charles
passed the netsuke, as a wedding present, to his nephew Victor in turn of the
century Vienna where they go on to witness the trauma of two world wars. From
here the netsuke end up returning to Japan, with Edmund de Waal’s great uncle
Iggie, illuminating a fascinating account of post-war Japan. The book is like
an extended episode of ‘Who Do You Think You Are?’ and the story of the
Ephrussi family provides a compelling insight into European and Jewish history.
Edmund de Waal is a potter and the netsuke are more than a mere device for him:
he writes enthusiastically about the objects themselves and the artistry
involved in their creation. Throughout the book he focuses on works of art,
furniture and architecture as well as the personal and political history of his
family. For me, the early chapters on Paris in the 1870s felt a little slow because
of this fascination with the objects his ancestor commissioned and collected.
But once we reached Vienna and the First World War the narrative became truly
gripping. ‘The Hare with Amber Eyes’ is an amazing true story told in an
interesting and artistic way.
Friday, September 02, 2011
'The Hour' by Abi Morgan
2 September 2011
I wrote here in April 2006 that I think the TV serial is the most satisfying of drama formats, allowing much greater character development than a play or film. It’s indicative of the decline of the format that it’s taken more than 5 years for me to discover a new drama to challenge for a place in my ‘Desert Island TV serials’, but finally along came Abi Morgan’s ‘The Hour’ on BBC2. ‘The Hour’ felt like an old-fashioned serial (I mean that as a compliment), not just because of its 1956 setting. It’s an exploration of the development of TV news, the political saga of Suez, a spy thriller and a murder mystery. Over 6 hour-long episodes ‘The Hour’ creates a cast of believable and rounded characters you really care about. The dialogue is carefully crafted and often very funny. It repeatedly made me think of the work of Dennis Potter – with mysterious spooks in raincoats loitering in the background as in ‘The Singing Detective’ as well as showing the changing nature of the British establishment through the Suez crisis as in ‘Lipstick on Your Collar’. ‘The Hour’ was excellently cast, with great performances particularly from Romala Garai, Dominic West, Anton Lesser and Tim Pigott-Smith, but the star of the show was undoubtedly the fascinating Ben Wishaw as Freddie Lyon. ‘The Hour’ was a perfect example of the TV drama serial – long enough to explore the characters in depth, but with a rounded plot which built to a climax with a final twist. I just hope they are not tempted to make a sequel.
I wrote here in April 2006 that I think the TV serial is the most satisfying of drama formats, allowing much greater character development than a play or film. It’s indicative of the decline of the format that it’s taken more than 5 years for me to discover a new drama to challenge for a place in my ‘Desert Island TV serials’, but finally along came Abi Morgan’s ‘The Hour’ on BBC2. ‘The Hour’ felt like an old-fashioned serial (I mean that as a compliment), not just because of its 1956 setting. It’s an exploration of the development of TV news, the political saga of Suez, a spy thriller and a murder mystery. Over 6 hour-long episodes ‘The Hour’ creates a cast of believable and rounded characters you really care about. The dialogue is carefully crafted and often very funny. It repeatedly made me think of the work of Dennis Potter – with mysterious spooks in raincoats loitering in the background as in ‘The Singing Detective’ as well as showing the changing nature of the British establishment through the Suez crisis as in ‘Lipstick on Your Collar’. ‘The Hour’ was excellently cast, with great performances particularly from Romala Garai, Dominic West, Anton Lesser and Tim Pigott-Smith, but the star of the show was undoubtedly the fascinating Ben Wishaw as Freddie Lyon. ‘The Hour’ was a perfect example of the TV drama serial – long enough to explore the characters in depth, but with a rounded plot which built to a climax with a final twist. I just hope they are not tempted to make a sequel.
Thursday, September 01, 2011
'Super 8'
1 September 2011
If ‘Attack the Block’ (reviewed here in May
2011) was reminiscent of an old Children’s Film Foundation production (albeit
with considerably more swearing and violence), J J Abrams’ new film ‘Super 8’
is Children’s Film Foundation with swearing, violence and big production
values. The two films have plenty in common with a group of teenage boys (and
one female interloper) battling aliens and the human authorities in each case. ‘Super
8’ clearly had a much bigger budget at its disposal – it was produced by Steven
Spielberg and Abrams seems to have tried to create a homage to Spielberg with
clear references to ‘ET’, ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind’ etc. ‘Super 8’
is set in 1979: a group of teenagers are shooting their own zombie movie using
a handheld Super 8 camera when they witness a spectacular train crash and
discover secrets they cannot reveal to anyone. As with ‘Attack the Block’, ‘Super
8’ has a very witty script with great interaction between the children. Both
films succeed because they manage to make the incredible (encounters with
extraterrestrial lifeforms) amazingly believable and realistic. ‘Super 8’ is
not quite as brutal as the British film – though there are some violent deaths,
you can mostly predict who is going to be safe. And the American kids are bit
more polite and wholesome than their British counterparts (who begin ‘Attack
the Block’ by mugging a nurse at knifepoint) but then this is rural small-town
America, not urban South London. ‘Super 8’ is funny and enjoyable but also
thrilling and genuinely scary. As it approaches its climax the film does become
a little predictable and somewhat sentimental but it’s lots of fun with some
wonderful performances, particularly from Joel Courtney as Joe and Elle Fanning
as Alice.
Paris
1 September 2011
We had a lovely few days in Paris last
week: I worked out that I hadn’t been there for 25 years so it felt like
visiting for the first time. We had glorious weather and made very good use of
open-top bus tours and boat trips on the Seine to explore all the main tourist
attractions. We went to Notre Dame, visited
the Louvre and saw the Mona Lisa, travelled down the Champs-Élysées from the
Place de la Concorde to the Arc de Triomphe and ended up at the Eiffel Tower,
though we opted not to join the massive queues to climb the tower. Instead we
travelled South to Montparnasse for the views from the top of the Tour
Montparnasse – an ugly skyscraper which has the advantage that its views
include the Eiffel Tower (and don’t include the Tour Montparnasse!). Paris is a
very beautiful city: unusually most of the architecture dates from the same
period – the 1860s when the whole central area was substantially rebuilt by
Baron Haussmann. This gives Paris a very uniform look and the skyline is very
flat, without the usual collection of skyscrapers, the highest of which tend to
signify the main ‘downtown’ area of most big cities. Although he was
responsible for the quintessential Parisian tree-lined boulevards, Haussmann
didn’t create many green open spaces. There are a few parks: we particularly
liked the Jardins du Luxembourg. We also travelled North to Montmartre and saw
the Moulin Rouge and Sacre Coeur. We loved the art deco Metro signs and the
masses of wrought iron railings lining each floor of buildings along the main
boulevards. We had a great time discovering Paris and certainly plan to return
well before another 25 years have elapsed.
'Sense and Sensibility' by Jane Austen, adapted by Laura Turner
1 September 2011
The summer doesn’t seem complete without
some open-air theatre, so it was a pleasure to return to the gardens of Woburn
Abbey to see Chapterhouse Theatre Company’s production of ‘Sense and
Sensibility’. We had very much enjoyed their ‘Pride and Prejudice’ last summer
(reviewed here in July 2010) and this was equally impressive. It was a
beautiful setting on a lovely evening and the acting was universally strong (we
could hear every word!) with Heather Mason as Marianne Dashwood and Nicky Diss
as her younger sister Margaret the stand-out performances.
Friday, August 19, 2011
'The Terrible Privacy of Maxwell Sim' by Jonathan Coe
19 August 2011
Jonathan Coe ranks alongside David Mitchell as one of my favourite contemporary novelists. Both write clever comic novels but their styles are quite different. Jonathan Coe’s writing appears more straightforward, without the linguistic tricks and stylistic ventriloquism that David Mitchell does so impressively. But Jonathan Coe’s more simple approach is deceptive: like David Lodge he writes light and accessible stories that contain complex themes and emotions which seep through the narrative rather than being rammed home. I’ve just finished reading Jonathan Coe’s latest novel ‘The Terrible Privacy of Maxwell Sim’ (as an unabridged audio book, read by Colin Buchanan). After the more serious departure of ‘The Rain Before It Falls’ (reviewed here in August 2008), this is a return to the comic adventures of Coe’s best known works, ‘What a Carve Up’ and ‘The Rotters Club’. Like those novels, ‘The Terrible Privacy of Maxwell Sim’ deals with themes of family relationships, technology and politics. In fact there are many themes lying beneath this humourous road trip across Britain (to sell toothbrushes in Shetland) and it was fun trying to decide which was the main purpose of the book. Is it really (as we are told towards the end) a study of the political and environmental implications of the toothbrush? Or is it a very subtle reflection on the banking crisis and the credit crunch? Surely the overriding focus is on loneliness: it is an often sad tale of a very lonely man suffering from depression who is embarking on a significant journey in both senses of the word. But, actually, I think ‘The Terrible Privacy of Maxwell Sim’ is ultimately about the act of writing. Max tells us his remarkable story in the first person, making it clear that he is an inexperienced an unconfident writer. His narrative is interspersed with a series of pieces of writing by his friends and family that he discovers on his journey. But it is hard to tell what is real and what is invented: who is faking their stories? This is a tale about fiction (and meta-fiction), very easy to get into and enjoy on the surface with much food for thought lurking beneath.
Saturday, August 06, 2011
'A Midsummer Night's Dream' by William Shakespeare
6 August 2011
On Friday we were back in Stratford-upon-Avon to see Nancy Meckler's new RSC production of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre. Meckler had set the play in a modern-day Athens with the gentlemen dressed in black suits and ties like a Greek Reservoir Dogs and the rude mechanicals actually wearing blue mechanic's overalls. I liked that, when Lysander and Hermia meet in the woods to elope, he arrives with just the clothes he stands up in but Hermia has the presence of mind to bring a sleeping bag, thermos flask and toothbrush! It was a very funny show, with the final performance of 'Pyramus and Thisbe' milked for every drop of humour but still leaving me wanting more. And it was great to see some serious comic dancing that could have come directly from a Hal Hartley film. But the humour of Peter Quince's players was surpassed by the lovers in a pillow-fight scene that was truly hilarious. All four of the lovers were excellent but the show was stolen by Lucy Briggs-Owen as Helena with her brilliant mixture of hysterical despair, falsetto disbelief and manic movement. She even outdid Marc Wootton who was fantastic as Bottom. And the fact that both Lucy Briggs-Owen and Marc Wootton are in their debut seasons with the RSC emphasises the company's ability to spot and nurture wonderful acting talent. 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' was a good example of the RSC's ensemble approach, with no real star names on the bill but a universally impressive cast. And while it made good use of the facilities of the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre, especially the massive pit beneath the stage, unlike the first two productions designed for the new auditorium (Macbeth, reviewed here in April 2011 and The Merchant of Venice, reviewed here in June 2011) it didn't appear to be so blatantly trying to show off the new theatre. The funniest Shakespeare I have seen for many years.
Wednesday, August 03, 2011
'The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet’ by David Mitchell
3 August 2011
In my previous job, when I was commuting to London every day, I managed to consume massive amounts of contemporary literature, often reading a novel a week. Now that the train has become my office, I find it hard to find time to read for pleasure. Regular readers may have noticed that my book reviews often tend to coincide with my holidays. I have therefore been amassing an ever-expanding list of books I am intending to read, with little prospect of making serious in-roads into it. I do, however, manage to find plenty of time to listen to music and radio programmes, usually on headphones while doing something else. So I thought I would see whether unabridged audio books might provide the answer to reducing my ‘to-read’ mountain. I signed up to the audible.co.uk subscription service and I have just finished listening to my first audio book, David Mitchell’s ‘The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet’. David Mitchell is one of my favourite contemporary novelists and I had been looking forward to his latest work. ‘The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet’ is an epic work – the audio version, wonderfully read by Jonathan Aris, lasts 19 hours. Structurally, it is much more straightforward than David Mitchell’s earlier novels, ‘Cloud Atlas’, ‘Ghostwritten’ and ‘number9dream’. This is an old-fashioned historical saga on a grand scale. Set in a Dutch trading post outside Nagasaki at the end of the 18th century it tells the tale of a young Dutch clerk, Jacob de Zoet, arriving at this grim colonial outpost and beginning to learn the mysteries of the closed Japanese empire. Had I been reading the book in print I wonder whether I might have struggled to get into it – I suspect I would have carefully re-read the opening chapters to get to grips with all the Japanese and Dutch names and work out exactly who all the characters were. Listening to the audio version allowed me not to worry about pronunciation (all done for me!) and letting the huge cast of characters initially wash over me worked fine: you soon begin to differentiate the main protagonists without having to work too hard. David Mitchell manages to draw very clear characters – all of whom have believable flaws. Within each group in the story – the Dutch traders, the Japanese officials and the British navy – there are both likeable and despicable individuals: there is no sense that one side are the ‘baddies’. The sheer length of the work engenders, by its end, a huge emotional attachment to the main protagonists. While the author avoids false sentimentality, the last few chapters are incredibly moving: you really feel you know these people personally. The historical detail was also fascinating: without laying on his research too heavily, David Mitchell teaches you a great deal about Japan and the tussles between Britain and the Netherlands. But ultimately this is a book about fathers and sons – from the opening birth scene to the pain of a lost son to the heartache of parting from your father. ‘The Thousand Autumns of Jabob de Zoet’ reminded me a lot of the work of Louis de Bernières, particularly ‘Captain Corelli's Mandolin’ – the small, closed community, the Dickensian cast of characters, the clash of cultures etc. I really enjoyed ‘The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet’ – it felt like an epic journey but one well worth embarking on.
Monday, August 01, 2011
WOMAD 2011
1 August 2011
Everybody's WOMAD is different: like any big festival there are so many bands to see on so many stages that each individual curates their own personal festival. This year my WOMAD seemed to be dominated by the violin: a surprising number of the groups I chose to watch featured one or more fiddles - from the sublime Scottish folk fiddling of Rua MacMillan to the unbelievably fast playing of Romanian legends Taraf de Haidouks; from the klezmer violin of Oi Va Voi to the eclectic mix of styles of the Barrunto Bellota Band from Caceres in Spain; from the uncategorisable fascination of Arthur Jeffes' Penguin Cafe to the brilliant Norwegian folk fiddle quintet Majorstuen. I saw 30 different bands over the WOMAD weekend at Charlton Park in Wiltshire including 20 complete sessions. I particularly enjoyed the AfroCubism super-group - it was amazing to see so many African stars, including Bassekou Kouyate (reviewed here in December 2007), Toumani Diabate (reviewed here in May 2008) and Djelimady Tounkara, sharing the stage with members of Cuba's Buena Vista Social Club. And it was wonderful to see the veterans of traditional Egyptian band El Tanbura, triumphant from their performances earlier this year in Tahrir Square. The WOMAD crowd (Womadders? or Womadians?) is a generous and sympathetic audience: if a roadie was to accidentally drop a guitar on the stage someone would start dancing to it! It's always lovely to see bands from completely different cultures, such as the Korean Tori Ensemble this year, start their set with serious frowns of concentration only gradually to realise how enthusiastically their music is being appreciated by a passionate, massed crowd in front of the stage. As the performers begin to look at each other and smile and (this year much more than I remember previously) take out their mobile phones and take photos of their audience, you begin to feel optimistic again about the prospects for intercultural dialogue and understanding. I think my favourite performances of WOMAD 2011 were those by: the young virtuoso of the South Indian veena (an earlier version of the more familiar sitar) Hari Sivanesan with the Cuban violinist (another violinist!) Omar Puente; the 10-strong Chinese acoustic group from Inner Mongolia, AnDa Union; the laid-back acoustic pop mixed with Scottish folk and Maori vocals from female trio Pacific Curls; and the stunning set by London-based five-piece female vocal group The Boxettes, led by world champion beatboxer Bellatrix. Oh, and I forgot to mention Appalachian clawhammer banjo maestro Abigail Washburn who was wonderful. All this and the weather was brilliant!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
'Betty Blue Eyes' by Ron Cowen, Daniel Lipman, George Stiles and Anthony Drewe
23 July 2011
Last Thursday we went to London to see an animatronic pig - and it's not often you can say that! We were at the Novello Theatre to see 'Betty Blue Eyes', a new musical based on the 1984 film 'A Private Function. The film, written by Alan Bennett and starring Michael Palin and Maggie Smith, has been reimagined for the stage by Ron Cowen and Daniel Lipman with music by George Stiles and lyrics by Anthony Drewe. Set in a small town in Yorkshire in 1947, much is made of the contemporary resonances of Royal Wedding celebrations amid Austerity Britain. As people struggle with the harsh realities of rationing, an unlicensed pig is being illegally prepared to feed local dignitaries at a private function to celebrate the wedding of Princess Elizabeth and Philip Mountbatten. But local chiropodist Gilbert Chilvers, and his wife Joyce, steal the pig and start a three-way tussle between themselves, the town council and the meat inspector. Reece Shearsmith and Sarah Lancashire are excellent as the leads. There are some great song and dance numbers, choreographed by Stephen Mear. It was lovely to see a West End musical comedy that was actually very funny. 'Betty Blue Eyes' feels like an old-fashioned musical - tuneful, witty (with plenty of pig puns!) and moving. The pig doesn't quite steal the show but you certainly come out smiling.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Bedford Festival Fringe
21 July 2011
We're not going to the Edinburgh Festivals this year: we generally go every other year, but as August approaches and withdrawal symptoms start to appear it's been a pleasant surprise to discover the opportunity to see several Edinburgh Fringe-bound shows a little closer to home. This was our first visit to the Bedford Festival Fringe and our first visit to The Place Theatre in Bedford where we saw two 'bedfringe' shows. Simon Munnery is a veteran of many Edinburgh Fringes and I am familiar with his work from numerous glowing reviews but I had never seen him perform. Many years ago he was better known as 'Alan Parker Urban Warrior' and, later, as 'The League Against Tedium'. For this year's Edinburgh Fringe he is working on "a one man musical about the R101 airship disaster of 1930" but, when we saw him in Bedford, this was still very much a work in progress. A couple of songs from the planned musical made up a tiny proportion of his set, which also included monologues, musical jokes and comic observations. It was all a bit rambling and unplanned but Munnery carried it off with charm: he is clearly a very experienced and confident performer. His comedy mixes the absurd with the logically pedantic. He is a very clever comedian and whatever shape his show ends up taking in Edinburgh it will undoubtedly be well worth the price of admission. 'Spitfire Solo' was a very different kind of show. This one-man drama, excellently performed by Nicholas Collett (and devised by Nicholas Collett with Gavin Robertson) tells the story of the Battle of Britain through the reminiscences of a RAF fighter pilot in a retirement home. Playing both the elderly veteran and his younger self (as well as a host of other characters) Collett gives a wonderful evocation of what it was like to be a Spitfire pilot - and re-enacts the entire Battle of Britain using only a couple of sauce bottles and a few slices of bread! 'Spitfire Solo' is a poignant and moving play, lightened by some gentle humour - an excellent fringe show.
Monday, July 18, 2011
'A Visit from the Goon Squad' by Jennifer Egan
18 July 2011
Writing in The Guardian this week about 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2', Peter Bradshaw said that part of the colossal achievement of the Harry Potter movies was that they "brought home to me how terribly brief childhood is". As Douglas Adams said "Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so." Jennifer Egan's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel 'A Visit from the Goon Squad', which I've just finished reading, is a fascinating reflection on time and the brevity and connectedness of human lives. It is a structurally amazing book, a jigsaw puzzle that only reveals itself fully at the very end. Set in and around the music business in New York, the opening chapter of 'A Visit from the Good Squad' focuses on Sasha, the kleptomaniac assistant to a record label boss, showing us the world through her eyes. But the second chapter shifts the focus to a different character (who had been mentioned in passing in chapter one) at a different time. A peripheral character in this chapter becomes the main protagonist in the next, and so on. Each of the book's thirteen chapters has a different subject, taking us backwards and forwards in time (from the late 1970s to the near future) and to different locations across the world. But all the characters are connected to each other in some way. This is social networking as narrative structure: apart from a brief namecheck of Facebook there is little mention of online social networks but Jennifer Egan uses the haphazard nature of 'friends' or 'friends' to construct a complex web of relationships. One review likened the book to David Mitchell's 'Cloud Atlas' and, while the timespan of 'A Visit from the Good Squad' is within one human lifetime rather than spread across several centuries, Jennifer Egan teases the reader, much like David Mitchell, before revealing the connections between her main characters. 'A Visit from the Goon Squad' is compelling, funny, clever and incredibly sad - a remarkable achievement.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Rhythms of the World Festival
14 July 2011
On Sunday we made a first visit to the Rhythms of the World Festival in Hitchin. Rhythms of the World is celebrating its 20th anniversary and has grown from a free event in the town centre to a substantial world music festival, now located in the lovely gardens of Hitchin Priory. I was amazed by the scale of the event which included more than 130 bands on 7 stages over 2 days - with full price tickets only £7 per day! We only managed to see 5 bands during our brief visit but they were all very impressive - from the excellent three-piece rockabilly band The Zipheads to the delicate songs of Glasgow group The Recovery Club to the rhythmic fusion of The Tabla Rhythmix. The highlight of our day was a performance on the main stage by the young English folk superstar Jim Moray (reviewed here in August 2008). I've been a fan of Jim Moray since his 2003 debut album, 'Sweet England', but I hadn't seen him live before. He put on a good show to a packed crowd - proving there is still life in the electric guitar/hurdy gurdy combination! Jim Moray takes traditional folk songs and reworks them with a rock feel, incorporating varied influences including electronic beats and rap. He looks every inch the rock star and it was great to see him approach the microphone in his leather jacket, with his electric guitar slung over his shoulder, to say "here's another murder ballad".
Tuesday, July 05, 2011
'The Long Song' by Andrea Levy
5 July 2011
Andrea Levy’s ‘Small Island’ is one of my favourite novels of recent years – a moving tale of Caribbean immigrants to the UK after the Second World War which manages to show you events through the eyes of each of the main protagonists so that you amazingly find yourself simultaneously sympathising with both sides of the racial prejudice at the heart of the story. Levy’s latest novel, ‘The Long Song’, also deals with Caribbean history but is set much earlier, showing us the final days of slavery in Jamaica in the mid 19th century. The narrative style is more straightforward than in ‘Small Island’ with a single narrator, the elderly ‘Miss July’, recounting the events of her childhood and early adult life. It’s an often grim tale of slaves being treated as sub-human by their white masters. But Levy makes the history lesson compelling and entertaining by telling the story of one individual’s life: the wider political events are mostly peripheral to the narrative. And Miss July is a slightly naïve narrator, allowing us to read between the lines to deduce what was really going on. The story is interrupted by some comic arguments between Miss July and her grown-up son who is encouraging her to write her book. As we approach the end of the tale the son enters Miss July’s story himself and these entertaining interludes reveal themselves to be more significant than they first appeared. ‘The Long Song’ is an impressive and fascinating novel but I found it a little difficult to get into: in order to demonstrate the impact of the ending of slavery, Andrea Levy has to devote the first 100 pages or so to establishing how bleak the situation was before and this makes for some understandably uncomfortable reading. But it was certainly worth persevering with.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wimbledon 2011
30 June 2011
We had a wonderful day at Wimbledon on Wednesday. We had seats on Court Number One where we saw two of the men’s singles quarter finals. Novak Djokovic against Bernard Tomic was a thrilling match with the teenage Australian qualifier looking out of his depth in the first set but finding his form to take the second. It was a fascinating encounter which at times seemed like a game of chess as the players tried to work out how to beat each other. Some of the rallies were superb with both players finding incredible angles. Djokovic’s experience saw him through in the end but there were several times in the third and fourth sets where I genuinely had no idea who was going to prevail. So many top tennis matches have an air of inevitability about them but this was excitingly unpredictable. Rafael Nadal against Mardy Fish was more one-sided but not without excitement with Fish fighting back to take the third set. The result was never really in doubt but it was absolutely fascinating to see Nadal live for the first time. He is an amazing player to watch – serious, focused, twitchy and powerful. He hits the ball harder than anyone I have ever seen and seemed in a different class, not just from Fish but also from Djokovic. We ended a wonderful day of tennis with the bonus of seeing a seniors’ doubles match in which Lindsay Davenport and Martina Hingis beat Gigi Fernandez and Natasha Zvereva which was great fun. After many years of visiting Wimbledon I think this was one of the best days of tennis I have seen.
‘Eden End’ by J B Priestley
30 June 2011
Last Monday we were at the Royal Theatre in Northampton to see Laurie Sansom’s production of ‘Eden End’ by J B Priestley. This family drama set in 1912 plays with the poignancy of its characters hopes for the future when we know they will shortly be engulfed by the First World War. The prodigal daughter, Stella, who fled the family home eight years earlier for a life on the stage, returns unexpectedly to disrupt the life of her younger sister who had stayed at home to look after their widowed father. An excellent production, wonderfully cast with outstanding performances by Charlotte Emmerson as Stella, Daisy Douglas as her sister Lilian and Nick Hendrix (making his professional stage debut) as their younger brother Wilfred. There was a lovely invention between two of the scenes where Wilfred and Stella’s actor husband Charles (Daniel Betts) appear in front of the curtain to perform a music hall song and dance number which both evokes the life on stage chosen by Stella (and adored by Wilfred) and perfectly evokes the men’s night out in the village pub from which they return rather the worse for wear in the following scene.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert
28 June 2011
It’s been more than two years since the Northampton Symphony Orchestra last played at the Derngate in Northampton (March 2009). It’s a wonderful hall for orchestral music but extremely expensive to hire and a major financial risk for the orchestra as we need to sell considerably more tickets than for our other concerts just to break even. Our programme for last week’s concert was designed to attract the biggest possible audience and included two of the eight most popular requests from BBC Radio 4’s ‘Your Desert Island Discs’. Holst’s ‘The Planets’ is one of the best known pieces of classical music but the vast resources it requires mean that it is not that often performed. I’ve played it three times now and it’s a much more sophisticated work than is often assumed. I think our performance in the Derngate was of a very high standard with some truly thrilling moments. Sitting in the middle of the horn section as we played the undulating arpeggios in ‘Jupiter’ it was hard to understand why every composer since Holst hasn’t written for six horns! In the first half of the concert we played Elgar’s ‘Cello Concerto’ with NSO principal ‘cellist Corinne Malitskie as the soloist. It’s a passionate, emotional work and Corinne gave a wonderful performance which brought the house down. It was a great concert and we attracted a fairly large audience: I hope we’ll be back in the Derngate soon.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Music in the Brickhills concert
16 June 2011
"Voluntary arts group does some voluntary arts activity" doesn't seem like much of a story: makes you think of the old adage about "Man Bites Dog". A friend of mine claims genuinely to have seen the headline "local choir to put on concert" in a local newspaper in Bedford last year, but I'm not sure I believe him. The sad thing is that the somewhat understandable reluctance of the media to jump at the chance to report on voluntary arts groups doing what they do is a story of missed opportunities, because the real story is often much more fascinating and complex than we make it seem. Voluntary arts groups seem to fall into a trap of formality in their publicity, maybe mistakenly trying to seem 'professional', when what are most likely to attract media interest - and audiences - are the real human stories about what they are doing. Music in the Brickhills is a small organisation based in the Brickhill villages just to the South of Milton Keynes. Last Sunday Music in the Brickhills put on a concert of chamber music in the church in Little Brickhill: four things make this unremarkable fact fascinating. Firstly, until the development of Music in the Brickhills there were very few live music performances in these villages: local residents had to travel to Milton Keynes, Bedford or Northampton to see concerts. Secondly Music in the Brickhills deliberately programmes music which is not that often performed, bringing together local professional and amateur musicians who are attracted by the opportunity to play music they would rarely otherwise get the chance to perform and providing an opportunity for local audiences to experience it. Thirdly, rather than regular rehearsals Music in the Brickhills works on a project-by-project basis with a range of musicians and singers coming together for a few intense rehearsals before each concert - which makes it easier for busy in-demand individuals to commit to particular concerts. This has enabled Music in the Brickhills to attract some extremely impressive musicians to perform in these small villages: the musical standard of the performances is very high. Fourthly everyone gives their time and expertise free-of-charge and all money raised by the concerts goes to charity - each event supporting a particular local or national charity. This unique mixture is what makes Music in the Brickhills special and what attracted me last Sunday to hear the augmented Kaznowski Quartet play Schubert's String Quintet in C and an 'all star' wind ensemble perform Nielsen's Wind Quintet. The Schubert is seen by many as a high point in the history of chamber music. I'm not familiar with it but it is a long work encompassing great varieties of mood and a multitude of technical challenges. The Kaznowski Quartet gave a wonderful performance. I had not previously heard the Nielsen piece either: writing in the programme David Lack suggests that it is one of only a handful of masterpieces in the wind quintet repertoire. It is certainly a fiendishly difficult piece requiring virtuoso playing from all five musicians. Each instrument gets its (often completely unaccompanied) moment in the sun and at Sunday's concert these were all accomplished with confidence and panache. I loved the idea that, because Nielsen was writing for the Copenhagen Wind Quintet who he knew well, he introduced the characters of the individual players into the piece. (David Lack says in the programme "variation 5 does make you wonder about the relationship between the clarinettist and the bassoonist in the original ensemble!") It was a lovely concert - fascinating music, played to a very high standard with every penny raised going to the Parkinsons Disease Society: definitely a good news story.
Friday, June 10, 2011
'Vertical Road' by the Akram Khan Dance Company
10 June 2011
On Wednesday evening we and the rest of the delegates from the International Congress on Active Cultural Participation in Europe were part of a packed and enthusiastic audience in the amazing old theatre of the Vooruit Arts Centre in Ghent to see the Akram Khan Dance Company perform ‘Vertical Road’. This was the first time I had seen Akram Khan’s much celebrated choreography. From the start it was clear that it was going to be a high-quality show. We started in pitch blackness, only very gradually beginning to make out the indistinct shape of a human figure behind a giant translucent plastic sheet. This membrane displayed elaborate ripple patterns across the stage when touched. Eventually the solitary figure emerged from behind the sheet to encounter six other dancers with whom he started to interact. The soundtrack, by Nitin Sawhney, began with primitive, natural sounds which grew into a variety of rhythmic and melodic pieces. The overall effect was brutal and uncompromising – occasionally very loud and using some strobe lighting – but there were also some very beautiful passages. At one point one dancer ‘discovered’ his ability to move one of the others like a marionette with invisible strings, lifting his hand to raise the other dancer’s head then thrusting it down to make his colleague writhe on the floor: the dancing, athleticism and physical co-ordination was incredible. Overall the show was very impressive but, not being very familiar with modern dance, I found it a bit too long (at 70 minutes) to sustain my interest without a clear narrative to guide me. Nevertheless it was a fascinating experience.
Friday, June 03, 2011
'The Merchant of Venice' by William Shakespeare
3 June 2011
We returned to Stratford-upon-Avon last weekend to see the second RSC production created for the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre. After Michael Boyd’s Rottweiler production of ‘Macbeth’, Rupert Goold’s ‘The Merchant of Venice’ is a poodle of a show. Set in a Las Vegas casino, it’s completely over the top and incredibly entertaining. Rupert Goold is always inventive and ambitious: I still remember fondly his amazing productions of ‘Othello’, ‘Paradise Lost’, ‘Doctor Faustus’ and ‘Hamlet’ for the Royal Theatre in Northampton. Given the wonderful new RSC stage and a massive cast Goold is in his element with ‘The Merchant of Venice’, throwing everything and the kitchen sink at this notoriously difficult play. Making Launcelot Gobbo an Elvis impersonator allows for a series of big song and dance numbers. And a fancy dress party sets up a great sight gag when Shylock’s daughter Jessica flees from her father’s house dressed not as ‘a boy’ but as ‘The Boy Wonder’. Patrick Stewart’s Shylock is a still, series centre to the pantomime going on around him but ‘The Merchant of Venice’ is really Portia’s show and Susannah Fielding definitely steals it in this production. The inspired idea of setting the Belmont scenes (where suitors attempt to win Portia’s hand in marriage by choosing between three sealed caskets) as a TV gameshow (‘Destiny’) complete with video screens and ‘Applause’ signs is a triumph. It’s all lots of fun but ultimately it’s not Shakespeare’s best play and strangely I felt, given how fast and loose Goold plays with the setting, his failing was in being too reverential to the text which would have benefited from much greater cutting, particularly towards the end. It was very interesting to see the emphasis on a homosexual subtext to the friendship between Bassanio and Antonio, poignantly puncturing Portia’s success. ‘The Merchant of Venice’ very effectively shows off the capabilities of the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre but is probably not one for the Shakepeare purists.
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