Milton Keynes Sinfonia concert

28 November 2013

On Saturday I took part in a concert with Milton Keynes Sinfonia which celebrated the centenary of the birth of Benjamin Britten with two works which opened and closed the performance. Britten’s ‘Sinfonia da Requiem’ is a serious, complex, challenging piece – both to play and to listen to. It required huge concentration from the orchestra and our tight, clear performance was a significant achievement which owed much to our conductor, David Knight. We concluded the concert with a very different piece of Britten, his joyous ‘Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra’ with its variations on a theme by Purcell culminating in a glorious fugue and triumphant finale. In between the two works by Britten were a stunning performance of the Elgar ‘Cello Concerto by Jacqueline Johnson and Holst’s ‘Ballet Music from The Perfect Fool’ – a lively, tuneful piece with a playfully lopsided 7/8 rhythm. It was an interesting and varied programme which brought an enthusiastic response from a packed audience. 

'Crimson/Red' by Prefab Sprout

22 November 2013

I've always had a soft spot for Prefab Sprout, the 1980s band that gave us 'Faron Young', 'When Love Breaks Down' and 'The King of Rock 'n' Roll'. The new Prefab Sprout album 'Crimson/Red' could be described as completely stripped down. Frontman Paddy McAloon has now dispensed with all the other members of the band and plays all the instruments himself. And yet it still sounds exactly the same – distinctive, melancholic, symphonic pop that could have come from 1988, whilst simultaneously sounding refreshingly, inventively new. All the more remarkable when you learn that McAloon now has impaired hearing and vision. 'Crimson/Red' is a classic Prefab Sprout album – catchy, beautiful, poignant and clever. Caroline Sullivan's review in The Guardian called it “a kind of truculent, Geordie Pet Sounds”. I've been struck by the similarities to another of my favourite 1980s bands The Blue Nile and the influence both may have had on The Divine Comedy (reviewed here in September 2005, July 2006 and June 2010).

Bellowhead at Bedford Corn Exchange

15 November 2013

As I wrote here in February 2009, “you can’t beat a band that dances to its own tunes”. That band was the amazing English folk big band, Bellowhead (who I have also written about here in October 2006, July 2008 and October 2010). I am pleased to report that they are still dancing and their infectious enthusiasm is still whipping audiences into a frenzy. On Thursday night I was among a standing audience of over 1000 people in the cavernous  Bedford Corn Exchange to see a stunning performance by Bellowhead. About to celebrate their tenth anniversary, Bellowhead have always been a very slick band, mixing inspired lunacy and chaos with strict rhythmic precision. Many of the eleven members of the band play multiple instruments and all participate in dance moves clearly derived from Morris traditions. The mix of musicians from folk, jazz and classical background and the unusual instrumentation (including fiddles, cello, oboe, saxophone, trumpet, trombone, helicon, bagpipes, melodeon and concertina) make for a unique signature sound. Bellowhead rarely put a foot wrong and seem to bring a smile to everyone’s face. Go and see them live if you get the chance – they are truly brilliant.

Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert

14 November 2013

The Northampton Symphony Orchestra’s November concert invariably coincides with the weekend of Bonfire Night and/or Remembrance Sunday. This year we made the most of this coincidence with a remembrance-themed concert at St Matthews Church in Northampton. The music was interspersed with war poems by Wilfred Owen, George Fraser Gallie and Konstantin Simanov, beautifully read by three members of the orchestra – Virginia Henley, Maria King and Nick Bunker. As Virginia stepped forward to start the concert with Owen’s ‘Anthem for Doomed Youth’, the church bells rang the half hour and she waited a moment for the sound to die away before reading “What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?” – it was a perfect opening to the evening.

The first piece of music was the beautiful pastoral work ‘The Banks of Green Willow’ by George Butterworth – a charming piece with an aching poignancy in this context as Butterworth was killed at the Battle of the Somme at the age of 30. Another delicate, pastoral English work completed the first half of the concert as the orchestra’s leader Stephen Hague gave a stunning performance of ‘The Lark Ascending’ by Ralph Vaughan Williams. That some of the desperately quiet passages were interrupted by the explosions of fireworks outside only served to emphasise the contrast between the peaceful idyll of the countryside and the brutal reality of war.

In the second half of the concert we played the mighty ‘Leningrad Symphony’ by Dimitri Shostakovich. Shostakovich’s seventh symphony was composed during the Siege of Leningrad in 1941-42 and powerfully evokes the horror of the 872 day isolation of the city which saw almost a third of the population (around a million people) die of starvation. Despite being offered the opportunity to escape the siege Shostakovich decided to stay in the city to work on a one-movement symphony which he wanted to dedicate to Leningrad. I can imagine the look on Mrs Shostakovich’s face when he later announced that it now felt like the work actually needed four movements! Shostakovich did complete the composition elsewhere but after the premiere of the symphony by the Bolshoi Theatre Orchestra in March 1942, there was a determination to stage a first performance in Leningrad itself, while the siege continued. With many of its players dead or away fighting the war, The Leningrad Radio Orchestra could muster only 14 musicians. Extra players were brought back from the front line and posters were displayed around the city appealing for anyone with a musical instrument to join in. At the end of July an orchestra of professionals and amateurs played the symphony in the Leningrad Philharmonic Hall with the performance broadcast on loudspeakers throughout the city. In a show of defiance there were speakers relaying the concert to German troops stationed outside the city. The NSO concert programme notes suggest that the senior Russian officer on the front was issued with a copy of the score so that he might order his troops to cease fire during the quieter passages!

The Leningrad symphony is a mammoth work, lasting 70 minutes and requiring a large orchestra. In our performance in Northampton, conducted by Alexander Walker, I was one of nine horn players, alongside six trumpets, six trombones, tuba and extensive percussion. This was the first time, as an orchestral musician, that I have genuinely regretted not wearing earplugs for a performance. It was incredibly loud and immensely dramatic – a realisation of the brutality of war in music, though the conflict is contrasted with passages of delicate beauty. There were a host of great solos by Andrea Patis (flute), Kimberley Chang (piccolo), Kathy Roberts (oboe), Simon Cooper (cor anglais), Naomi Muller (clarinet), Peter Dunkley (bass clarinet), Sian Bunker (bassoon) and Nick Bunker (trumpet). And the side drum playing of Matt Butler through the long, relentless, repetitive march that dominates the first movement was truly amazing – controlled, precise and devastating all in its path. For me that famous tune still conjures up childhood memories of the 1978 BBC TV adaptation of John Buchan’s ‘Huntingtower’, but heard in the heart of the symphony it evokes the horror of war, starting as a simple fife and drum melody then growing ever more insistent and grotesque until the bombardment is overwhelming. It was a stunning, moving, exhausting performance and one I will remember for a long time. 

'I Am The Secret Footballer: Lifting the Lid on the Beautiful Game' by The Secret Footballer

8 November 2013

When you hear an interview with a retired politician it's remarkable how often they seem suddenly more knowledgeable, reasonable and sensible than they ever did when they were in office, regardless of where they come from in the political spectrum. The modern media age has bred a generation of people in the public eye who work hard to never say anything of interest. Perhaps the most extreme example of this is the post-match interview with a professional football player who has been extensively trained in the art of clichés and platitudes. Even retirement is no guarantee of openness in the football world as Sir Alex Ferguson's recent, very guarded, memoirs demonstrate. So it is a refreshing change to read an insight on the sport which is genuinely honest and candid. 'The Secret Footballer' started as an anonymous column in The Guardian, exposing the inner workings of the professional game through the eyes of someone still playing at the highest level. The anonymity of the columnist has so far survived investigation, rumour and clue-hunting. Reading the book 'I Am The Secret Footballer: Lifting the Lid on the Beautiful Game' the anonymous author gives a fascinating view of what it is actually like to 'live the dream'. I loved the fact that, when he joined his first professional club, nobody told him that he was only required to train from 10 am – 12 pm each day. At noon he was sitting along in the dressing room waiting to be told what to do next, not realising everyone else had gone home. His perspective on the incredible financial rewards that football brings to a select group of young men, counterbalanced with the insecurity, boredom and depression prevalent within the profession are fascinating. Occasionally the disguise necessary to keep the author's identity secret makes anecdotes quite hard to follow but this is a small price to pay for such an unusually frank read.

'Symphony No 4 (Arctic)' by George Lloyd

1 November 2013

I'm grateful to Alan Garriock for drawing my attention to the work of the British composer George Lloyd (1913 – 1998). I hadn't previously heard of Lloyd – a symphonist and opera composer whose lush, accessible, melodic music seems to have been overlooked (particularly in the 1950s and 60s) by a musical establishment more interested in the avant garde. I've been listening to George Lloyd's fourth symphony, 'The Arctic', which he finished in 1946. It's a lovely piece – tuneful, delicate, rousing and heroic. The style is romantic and a little old-fashioned for the period, recalling earlier British composers such as Holst, Bax and Bantock. It's a very enjoyable work and I'm looking forward to seeking out other pieces by George Lloyd.

'An Alpine Symphony' by Richard Strauss

25 October 2013

It feels somewhat indiscreet to start by revealing a lady’s age, but my good friend Catherine Rose has hardly made any secret about achieving her first half-century. Rather than hiding away and pretending it wasn’t happening, Catherine chose to celebrate her fiftieth birthday by realising her ambition to conduct ‘An Alpine Symphony’ by Richard Strauss. Last Sunday I was part of an orchestra of 125 players which assembled in the hall of Bedford School to spend an incredibly enjoyable day tackling the Alpine peaks of this rarely performed work. The musicians were mainly drawn from three local amateur orchestras (Bedford, Milton Keynes and Northampton) together with professional orchestral players from across the country. The Alpine Symphony requires massive forces, including a wind machine, pipe organ, four Wagner tubas, cow bells and a heckelphone. Perhaps someone should have advised Strauss that this is not a recipe to get your work performed regularly. Nonetheless the Alpine Symphony is a piece held in great affection, particularly by horn players (including Catherine and myself). Instead of the usual four French horns, Strauss asks for eight on-stage players plus twelve offstage horns. On Sunday we managed to assemble a total of fifteen horn players and it was a fantastic experience to play as part of such a huge section. The Alpine Symphony is a glorious piece with some stunning, joyful climaxes. It must be amazing to be commanding such enormous forces by wielding the conductor’s baton – though it must also be completely terrifying. We ended the day with a performance of the symphony to an audience of family and friends. I think it was a pretty impressive rendition – particularly on a single day of rehearsals. It was a wonderful day – which also raised a significant amount of money for Catherine’s three chosen charities. A great way to celebrate a landmark birthday.

'One Summer: America 1927' by Bill Bryson

18 October 2013

Bill Bryson write two kinds of book – the travelogues which detail his first-hand encounters with countries, communities and people across the world, and his extensively desk-researched explorations (of Shakespeare, science, domestic life etc). I think my favourite Bryson is his childhood reminiscences 'The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid' (reviewed here in 2007) which (just about) fits into the second category. I particularly enjoyed his ability to conjure up the characters of a different era. So I was looking forward to Bill Bryson's new book 'One Summer: America 1927' which looks at five remarkable months in which America changed the world. Reading 'One Summer: America 1927' as an unabridged audio book, narrated by the author, I was initially a little underwhelmed. While there was nothing wrong with Bill Bryson's narration, I had just finished listening to the stunning performance of Julian Rhind-Tutt reading Jonathan Coe's novel 'Expo 58' (reviewed here in September 2013) and I'm afraid anyone would have sounded a bit flat after that. Also Bill Bryson's excessive use of statistics is particularly hard to take in without seeing the numbers in front of you. But once he got beyond the statistics and started to build pictures of the key individuals in his story I became gripped. The summer of 1927 in America was witness to an amazing array of events and an incredible cast of characters. Charles Lindbergh became the first person to fly non-stop across the Atlantic. In baseball Babe Ruth was breaking every record in the books. The boxing match between Jack Dempsey and Gene Tunney drew the largest crowd to any sporting event ever. The lazy President, Calvin Coolidge, (about whose death Dorothy Parker would later ask “How could they tell?”) decided not to run for office at the end of his (unelected) term while future President Herbert Hoover built his reputation co-ordinating the relief effort after the great Mississippi flood. Al Capone presided over an empire of corruption and extortion in Chicago. Henry Ford ended production of his Model T and embarked on a spectacularly unsuccessful attempt to create a rubber-producing city in the Amazon (Fordlandia). And talking pictures arrived with Al Jolson in 'The Jazz Singer'. It was quite a summer. Bill Bryson takes us chronologically through those summer months – with digressions to fill in the before and after to many of the stories. Lindbergh, Ruth and some of the other main protagonists provide overarching narratives which hold the book together. It's a powerful evocation of an era of prohibition, gangsters, anarchist terrorists, adventurers and celebrities. 

Jeremy Hardy

16 October 2013

We first saw Jeremy Hardy in about 1997 in Lowestoft. I’ve written here before about that performance (in March 2007): “while on holiday in Suffolk, we were surprised to see the enormous old seaside theatre in Lowestoft advertising an evening with Jeremy Hardy. This theatre, which had Ken Dodd the previous week and Jimmy Tarbuck the following week – seemed an odd setting for a left-wing political alternative comedian. We booked our tickets and, on the night, found ourselves lost in a sea of empty seats with only about a dozen other people but Jeremy Hardy dealt with a potentially embarrassing situation extremely impressively. Quickly abandoning his prepared material he probably worked harder than ever that night and completely won his tiny audience over – one of the most impressive comedy performances I’ve seen.”  Last week we caught up with Jeremy Hardy again at Kettering Arts Centre, as part of his 30^th anniversary tour, and he was even better. He is a very assured performer. Not needing to rely on any theme, props or onstage persona, he simply walks onto the stage and talks continuously for nearly two and half hours (with a 20 minute interval). His delivery sounds like a seamless stream of consciousness, mainly focussing on politics and current affairs. If you look closely you can detect a few prepared sections but mostly it feels improvised rather than scripted. Jeremy Hardy’s politics are uncompromising but his thoughtful, logical, self-deprecating style is very winning, and incredibly funny. It felt like he could have gone on all night, and we would have been delighted if he had.

'Floating Letters' by Tsuumi Sound System

10 October 2013

I'm very much enjoying 'Floating Letters', the new album by Finnish folk/rock group Tsuumi Sound System. I reviewed 'Hotas', the previous Tsuumi Sound System album, here in April 2008. Their music is cheery and inspiring with a rhythmic complexity that demands syncopated toe-tapping. At first it sounds a lot like Scottish folk but the instrumentation, harmony and style continually shifts. Hard to categorise but easy to enjoy. The playing is slick and impressive but always wearing a smile. Here's a taster: http://vimeo.com/53798510

‘Life and Death: Pompeii and Herculaneum’

3 October 2013

Almost a year ago we visited Pompeii for the first time and were bowled over by the scale of the site and the size of the preserved buildings. So we had been looking forward to seeing the exhibition ‘Life and Death: Pompeii and Herculaneum’ at The British Museum. It was so difficult to get tickets for the exhibition when we booked, in May this year, that we ended up going on the final day last Sunday. There were huge crowds waiting for a last chance to see the well-preserved relics of Roman life and, even with the timed ticket system, you had to be very patient to get close to each of the exhibits. The excellent audio guide proved a very useful way to pass the time while queuing. ‘Life and Death: Pompeii and Herculaneum’ wasn’t a very big exhibition but that meant it was possible to explore everything it contained – and this took us a good ninety minutes. The exhibition was laid out in rooms equating to the rooms of a typical Roman villa, making sense of the context of the many artefacts. The quality of preservation of the wooden objects from Herculaneum was amazing. We were also struck by how overtly sexual (by modern standards) many of the pictures and sculptures were. There was one particularly explicit piece (if you’ve seen the exhibition you will know the one I mean!) that was located in a small side room with a notice by the entrance suggesting it wasn’t suitable for children. While I was there one father was getting exasperated by the enthusiasm of his young son (who must have been 7 or 8 years old) to see whatever it was his dad didn’t want him to see. In response to the boy’s pleading “why?” the man eventually shouted “because I’m your father and I’m exercising moral judgement!”. The casts of the bodies of some of the volcano’s victims, captured in agonising poses at the moment of death, provided an eerie and moving end to the exhibition. 

'Othello' by William Shakespeare

27 September 2013

On Thursday we were part of an audience of more than 100,000, in cinemas across the world, to watch a live broadcast from the National Theatre in London of Nicholas Hytner's production of Shakespeare's 'Othello'. This latest NT Live broadcast demonstrated the growing popularity of live screenings of theatre: at Cineworld in Milton Keynes, where we watched the performance, it was being shown simultaneously on three screens, each of which was almost sold out. Hytner's production sets the play in a contemporary military base which could be in Iraq or Afghanistan. The prosaic background of the soldiers' quarters made the action feel more real and the violence was particularly shocking. The scene in the gents toilets, with Othello hiding in a cubicle to overhear Iago and Cassio, was especially effective. 'Othello' is very much a two-hander and both the lead performances here were fantastic. Adrian Lester showed Othello's power and vulnerability in a wonderfully physical performance and Rory Kinnear's Iago was twitchy, shifty, sinister and incredibly funny. Olivia Vinnall was great as a tiny but powerful Desdemona whose despair towards the end of the play was palpable. Watching the production on the big screen showed every minute facial expression as the cameras kept close to the action in a series of small, claustrophobic rooms and it is so satisfying to be able to hear every word of the text so clearly. 

'Expo 58' by Jonathan Coe

27 September 2013

Jonathan Coe obviously has a fascination with the Swiss composer Arthur Honegger (reviewed here in December 2005). Honegger's symphonies feature in Coe's novel ‘The Closed Circle’ and 'Pastoral d'ete' by Honegger provides the backdrop to a key scene in 'Expo 58', the latest novel by Jonathan Coe, which I have just finished reading (as an unabridged audio book, narrated by Julian Rhind-Tutt). The 1958 World's Fair in Brussels was one of the first major international gatherings after the end of the Second World War and the exposition, in the shadow of the gleaming new Atomium, provided both an opportunity for optimism about the rebuilding of international relations but also a focus for growing concerns about the development of atomic weapons and the increasing menace of the Cold War. Coe places into this setting a naïve Englishman abroad in the shape of Thomas Foley – a junior clerk from the Central Office of Information, recently married and with a baby daughter – who is sent to work at the Expo for six months. 'Expo 58' is a beautifully constructed comic novel which displays many of Coe's trademark elements but also feels remarkably like a David Lodge book. The civil servant being drawn into a world of international espionage also reminded me of Ian McEwan's 'Sweet Tooth' (reviewed here in January 2013). Jonathan Coe constructs some delicious comic moments as well as a host of easily missed throw-away gags. But he also manages to inject pathos – often between the lines. So much is implied by what characters don't say to each other: the chapter of letters between Foley and his wife is beautifully done. The novel concludes with some cleverly believable revelations but I could have done with a few more twists. Like all good novels I didn't want it to end.

'Daytona' by Oliver Cotton

20 September 2013

Last Saturday we were at Watford Palace Theatre to see 'Daytona' – a new play by Oliver Cotton. 'Daytona' is set in a Brooklyn apartment in the early 1990s – a New York Jewish family environment familiar from the work of Neil Simon and Woody Allen. It is a play about growing old, memory, forgiveness and atonement. The cast consists of three characters – all in their seventies. When Joe's brother Billy reappears out of the blue after an absence of more than 30 years it is an uncomfortable reminder to Joe and his wife Elli of difficult times in their past. 'Daytona' has an almost Chekhovian feel – the dramatic action all happens off stage and is recounted by the characters. Joe thinks he has recognised, by a poolside in Florida, a man who was a Nazi officer in the wartime concentration camp that Joe, Billy and Elli survived. As we begin to wonder whether or not Joe might be mistaken in his assumptions it feels like Cotton is creating a version of Ariel Dorfman's 'Death and the Maiden' in which the ambiguity of identity might never be resolved. Then I began to question whether the dramatic off-stage events had actually happened: we only have the word of one obviously unreliable narrator to go on. But as the play unfolded I realised that Cotton's focus was actually on questioning assumptions of motivation. The characters challenge each other about why they really took the actions they did – today and 30 years ago – and the cleverness of the play is how it shows the dawning realisation as each individual becomes aware of the extent to which they have been fooling themselves. 'Daytona' is a complex and subtle play and was excellently acted by Harry Shearer, Maureen Lipman and, particularly John Bowe as Billy.

'Boxer, Beetle' by Ned Beauman

12 September 2013

Having been so bowled over by Ned Beauman’s novel ‘The Teleportation Accident’ (reviewed here in July 2013) I quickly got hold of his first novel ‘Boxer, Beetle’ (which I have just read as an unabridged audio book, narrated by Dudley Hinton). The two books have much in common – a cast of grotesque characters, a fascination with Nazi Germany, a big country house, a rare and extremely peculiar illness, a jigsaw-puzzle plot with a ridiculous number of underlying themes and some great comic set-pieces. And, as with ‘The Teleportation Accident’, Beauman’s writing is delicious and rich in elaborate metaphors. Reading the two books in reverse order ‘Boxer, Beetle’ feels like a practice ground for what would become the later, greater novel but it is still incredibly enjoyable with a macabre humour that makes you both laugh and cringe. The country house murder mystery at the heart of the book reminded me of Jonathan Coe’s ‘What a Carve Up’ but Ned Beauman’s is a unique voice and I can’t wait to see what he writes next.

'The Impressionist' by Hari Kunzru

12 September 2013

Hari Kunzru’s debut novel ‘The Impressionist’ was highly praised on its publication in 2002 and I the reviews made me keen to read it but for some reason it has taken me more than 10 years to get around to doing so. I wasn’t disappointed. ‘The Impressionist’ is an epic tale that starts in India in the early years of the 20^th century and looks at empire, race and identity against a backdrop of real historical events. The use of comic characters and farcical plots set against extremely serious and often horrific history is carried off remarkably effectively. The tone of the book reminded me a lot of Matthew Kneale’s marvellous ‘English Passengers’. And ‘The Impressionist’ also had echoes of two other debut novels by contemporary British writers – David Mitchell’s ‘Ghostwritten’ with episodes in different settings, and with completely different sets of characters, linked by a single constant but evolving figure; and ‘White Teeth’ by Zadie Smith with its exploration of how Britain’s colonial past is evident in modern Britishness. ‘The Impressionist’ is a brilliant tour-de-force – well worth waiting for.

Norway

12 September 2013

We had a wonderful holiday in Norway on board the P&O cruise ship Adonia. Our two-week cruise took us as far north as Tromso – well above the Arctic Circle – and visited a varied range of fjords and islands. Particular highlights were the beautiful Lofoten Islands and the stunning scenery of Geirangerfjord – surely one of the most beautiful places in the world. We were very lucky with the weather and managed to do a lot of walking. We also really enjoyed our time on board the ship, attending 5 recitals by the excellent pianist Dominic John, a very impressive performance of Noel Coward’s ‘Private Lives’, doing plenty of ballroom dancing and taking part in a playreading of ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’. You can see a few photos from our holiday at: http://culturaloutlook.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Norway2013 

'Sherlock Holmes' by Mark Hayward

19 August 2013

We were back in the gardens of Woburn Abbey last Friday to see The Pantaloons' production of 'Sherlock Holmes'. This new adaptation, written and directed by Pantaloon Mark Hayward, combined several Conan Doyle stories (including 'The Speckled Band', 'The Blue Carbuncle' and 'The Hound of the Baskervilles') with the usual Pantaloons mixture of pantomimic clowning and audience interaction (“there is no fourth wall!”, “Watson, stop narrating!”). It was lots of fun. There were just four actors – two playing Holmes and Watson and the other two playing everyone else. As with the wonderful Patrick Barlow stage adaptation of ‘The Thirty Nine Steps’, half the fun is in anticipating how they are going to cope with the challenges this throws up. I particularly enjoyed Holmes turning his powers of observation and deduction on a member of the audience: I suspect his amazingly accurate conclusions may have been influenced by some pre-show research with the audience member's friends and family but the little boy sitting to my right was genuinely amazed (“how did he do that?!”). And The Pantaloons are very good at planting an idea very early in the show that returns triumphantly to resolve the plot at the end. It was a very enjoyably silly evening but it was incredibly manic and overplayed (even by the standards of The Pantaloons) and I wondered whether it might actually have been funnier if more of it had been played straight.

'After the Fire, a Still Small Voice' by Evie Wyld

12 August 2013

I've just finished reading 'After the Fire, a Still Small Voice' by Evie Wyld (as an unabridged audio book, narrated by David Tredinnick). This debut novel tells the parallel story of two generations of an Australian family, with alternating chapters dealing with Frank Collard – escaping, in the present day, to the remote shack that had belonged to his grandparents on the North coast of Australia – and Frank's father Leon, growing up in Sydney several decades earlier. This is a tale of parallels between fathers and sons: Leon's own father's life was irreparably damaged by his experience of fighting in the Korean War and Leon then suffers a similar fate when he is called up to serve in Vietnam. 'After the Fire, a Still Small Voice' is a book about loneliness and the plot moves very slowly, with both main characters spending long stretches of the novel alone. The writing is beautiful and delicate but it's a sad, gentle tale of broken relationships.

'A Midsummer Night's Dream' by William Shakespeare

12 August 2013

I really enjoyed the open air production of 'The Importance of Being Earnest' by The Pantaloons that we saw last August (reviewed here in August 2012) so I was looking forward to their return to the gardens of Woburn Abbey last weekend. The Pantaloons are a group of five young actors who bring a comedy-sketch-group approach to open air theatre, full of backchat, audience interaction, improvisation, original music and infectious silliness. Their production of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' played well to these strengths but also demonstrated their more serious acting skills. It was a very funny and enjoyable evening. I particularly liked the impromptu use of three members of the audience to play the fairies – Cobweb, Peaseblossom and Mustardseed. While the acting was excellent, the limitations of such a small cast meant that I am not sure anyone who wasn't already familiar with the play would have been able to follow all the intricacies of the plot. Nevertheless it was great fun and I can't wait for The Pantaloons production of 'Sherlock Holmes' which is at Woburn this Friday.