To extend Chekhov’s maxim that if a gun appears in a story it has to be fired, surely any play in which the stage incorporates a large tank of water will inevitably involve someone falling into it. The Royal Shakespeare Company’s new production of ‘Twelfth Night’ has a huge pool of water embedded into the front of the stage and I don’t think it’s too much of a spoiler to reveal that someone does indeed take a tumble into it, completely soaking several members of the audience. (In the spirit of Douglas Adams I will preserve some element of mystery by not revealing which character this happens to!) But much more impressively, the play begins with Viola suddenly entering the water from beneath the stage and clambering coughing and spluttering onto the stage like a Houdini escape. It’s a stunning opening and sets the standard for a wonderful theatrical experience. David Farr’s production of ‘Twelfth Night’ at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon is part of ‘What country friends is this?’ – the RSC’s trilogy of Shakespeare’s shipwreck plays (with ‘The Comedy of Errors’ and ‘The Tempest’) and is the first RSC offering within the World Shakespeare Festival 2012. The last time I saw ‘Twelfth Night’ was Greg Doran’s 2009 RSC production (reviewed here in November 2009) which completely gripped me, despite my familiarity with the plot. Again this week, I wondered whether I had seen ‘Twelfth Night’ too many times to enjoy it afresh but, on the day that Doran was announced as Michael Boyd’s successor as Artistic Director of the RSC, David Farr’s staging completely bowled me over. The two female leads, Kirsty Bushell as Olivia and Emily Taaffe as Viola, were excellent. In the 2009 production, I thought James Fleet was the best Sir Andrew Aguecheek I had seen but this week Bruce Mackinnon proved equally worthy of the title. I enjoyed the songs of Feste, played by Kevin McMonagle as an ageing crooner carrying a tiny electronic keyboard held together by gaffer tape. And Jonathan Slinger (who I last saw as Macbeth in Michael Boyd’s theatre-opening production, reviewed here in April 2001) was hilarious as Malvolio – with wig and double-breasted suit, looking uncannily like Mark Williams in the “suits you, sir” sketches. The set by Jon Bausor was amazing, with all the components of a dilapidated hotel foyer set at eccentric angles. He created some lovely gimmicks but resisted the temptation to overuse them. It was an excellent show – five stars: do go to see it but don’t sit in the front row, because “the rain it raineth every day”.
Friday, March 23, 2012
'Twelfth Night' by William Shakespeare
23 March 2012
To extend Chekhov’s maxim that if a gun appears in a story it has to be fired, surely any play in which the stage incorporates a large tank of water will inevitably involve someone falling into it. The Royal Shakespeare Company’s new production of ‘Twelfth Night’ has a huge pool of water embedded into the front of the stage and I don’t think it’s too much of a spoiler to reveal that someone does indeed take a tumble into it, completely soaking several members of the audience. (In the spirit of Douglas Adams I will preserve some element of mystery by not revealing which character this happens to!) But much more impressively, the play begins with Viola suddenly entering the water from beneath the stage and clambering coughing and spluttering onto the stage like a Houdini escape. It’s a stunning opening and sets the standard for a wonderful theatrical experience. David Farr’s production of ‘Twelfth Night’ at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon is part of ‘What country friends is this?’ – the RSC’s trilogy of Shakespeare’s shipwreck plays (with ‘The Comedy of Errors’ and ‘The Tempest’) and is the first RSC offering within the World Shakespeare Festival 2012. The last time I saw ‘Twelfth Night’ was Greg Doran’s 2009 RSC production (reviewed here in November 2009) which completely gripped me, despite my familiarity with the plot. Again this week, I wondered whether I had seen ‘Twelfth Night’ too many times to enjoy it afresh but, on the day that Doran was announced as Michael Boyd’s successor as Artistic Director of the RSC, David Farr’s staging completely bowled me over. The two female leads, Kirsty Bushell as Olivia and Emily Taaffe as Viola, were excellent. In the 2009 production, I thought James Fleet was the best Sir Andrew Aguecheek I had seen but this week Bruce Mackinnon proved equally worthy of the title. I enjoyed the songs of Feste, played by Kevin McMonagle as an ageing crooner carrying a tiny electronic keyboard held together by gaffer tape. And Jonathan Slinger (who I last saw as Macbeth in Michael Boyd’s theatre-opening production, reviewed here in April 2001) was hilarious as Malvolio – with wig and double-breasted suit, looking uncannily like Mark Williams in the “suits you, sir” sketches. The set by Jon Bausor was amazing, with all the components of a dilapidated hotel foyer set at eccentric angles. He created some lovely gimmicks but resisted the temptation to overuse them. It was an excellent show – five stars: do go to see it but don’t sit in the front row, because “the rain it raineth every day”.
To extend Chekhov’s maxim that if a gun appears in a story it has to be fired, surely any play in which the stage incorporates a large tank of water will inevitably involve someone falling into it. The Royal Shakespeare Company’s new production of ‘Twelfth Night’ has a huge pool of water embedded into the front of the stage and I don’t think it’s too much of a spoiler to reveal that someone does indeed take a tumble into it, completely soaking several members of the audience. (In the spirit of Douglas Adams I will preserve some element of mystery by not revealing which character this happens to!) But much more impressively, the play begins with Viola suddenly entering the water from beneath the stage and clambering coughing and spluttering onto the stage like a Houdini escape. It’s a stunning opening and sets the standard for a wonderful theatrical experience. David Farr’s production of ‘Twelfth Night’ at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon is part of ‘What country friends is this?’ – the RSC’s trilogy of Shakespeare’s shipwreck plays (with ‘The Comedy of Errors’ and ‘The Tempest’) and is the first RSC offering within the World Shakespeare Festival 2012. The last time I saw ‘Twelfth Night’ was Greg Doran’s 2009 RSC production (reviewed here in November 2009) which completely gripped me, despite my familiarity with the plot. Again this week, I wondered whether I had seen ‘Twelfth Night’ too many times to enjoy it afresh but, on the day that Doran was announced as Michael Boyd’s successor as Artistic Director of the RSC, David Farr’s staging completely bowled me over. The two female leads, Kirsty Bushell as Olivia and Emily Taaffe as Viola, were excellent. In the 2009 production, I thought James Fleet was the best Sir Andrew Aguecheek I had seen but this week Bruce Mackinnon proved equally worthy of the title. I enjoyed the songs of Feste, played by Kevin McMonagle as an ageing crooner carrying a tiny electronic keyboard held together by gaffer tape. And Jonathan Slinger (who I last saw as Macbeth in Michael Boyd’s theatre-opening production, reviewed here in April 2001) was hilarious as Malvolio – with wig and double-breasted suit, looking uncannily like Mark Williams in the “suits you, sir” sketches. The set by Jon Bausor was amazing, with all the components of a dilapidated hotel foyer set at eccentric angles. He created some lovely gimmicks but resisted the temptation to overuse them. It was an excellent show – five stars: do go to see it but don’t sit in the front row, because “the rain it raineth every day”.
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.
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