25 April 2014
On
Wednesday I was in Stratford-upon-Avon, as a guest of the Royal
Shakespeare Company, to celebrate Shakespeare's 450th
birthday. The evening culminated in a spectacular fireworks display
outside the Royal Shakespeare Theatre after we had watched Greg
Doran's production of Henry IV Part 1. Many people (including The
Guardian's Michael Billington) claim Henry IV Part 1 is Shakespeare's
greatest play. I'm not really in a position to judge but I have had a
soft spot for the work since I studied it for 'O' level. Watching it
again for the first time since seeing the National Theatre production
in 2005 (which featured Michael Gambon as Falstaff) I thought about
what makes this Shakespeare so special. Comparing it to the other
history plays, I think the balance between the macro political story
and the personal development of the characters is more even. The
contrast between the scenes at court and the inn scenes is so stark
they sometimes seem to have come from different plays. This makes the
crossover between these two worlds particularly fascinating and, for
all the inevitable focus on the wonderful character of Falstaff, this
is Hal's play. In the RSC production, Alex Hassell showed us a very
convincing transition between the playboy prankster and the warrior
prince, maturing before our eyes. In contrast, Trevor White's
peroxide blonde Hotspur was a manic, grinning adolescent – easily
over-excited and bouncing all over the stage. It was interesting to
see Henry IV so soon after watching Greg Doran's Richard II (reviewed
here in December 2013). Jasper Britton, as Henry, started proceedings
on Wednesday by placing the crown upon his head as the shadowy figure
of Richard (with David Tennant's flowing locks) appeared briefly on a
balcony, before fading from view – reminding us of Henry
Bolingbroke's violent coup at the end of the previous play. But it is
Falstaff who is naturally the centre of attention in Henry IV Part 1
and Anthony Sher's portrayal of the portly knight was compellingly
brilliant. Sher managed to make Falstaff both incredibly funny and
unnervingly unlikeable. The battlefield scene in which he offers a
desperate unarmed Prince Hal the loan of his pistol, only for Hal to
discover that the holster merely contains a bottle of sack, was truly
chilling – with Falstaff's childish giggling completely
out-of-place with the Prince's frustrated fury. Anthony Sher is an
electric presence on a stage and it is very hard to take your eyes
off him. But he makes Falstaff more than a mere clown, giving us a
much more complex character – one we long to see again whilst also
despising him.
Friday, April 25, 2014
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
'An Intervention' by Mike Bartlett
22 April 2014
I worried a little when I discovered that Mike Bartlett's new play 'An Intervention', which we saw at Watford Palace Theatre last Saturday, runs without an interval, takes place mostly in front of curtains (“like Morecambe and Wise or Abbott and Costello”) and has just two characters, designated 'A' and 'B' – who “can be played by actors of any age, gender or ethnicity”. But 'An Intervention' is a very accessible, clever and impressive piece of theatre. It's a funny, thought-provoking and disturbing two-hander – excellently acted by Rachael Stirling and John Hollingworth in a Paines Plough and Watford Palace Theatre production, directed by James Grieve. We last saw Rachael Stirling in Mike Bartlett’s contemporary version of ‘Medea', also at Watford Palace Theatre (reviewed here in November 2012), and she is a wonderful stage actor. 'An Intervention' looks at what happens when you hate your best friend. Can friendship survive when one of you supports the proposed military intervention in a Middle East conflict and the other is on the anti-war protest? And how much of the ensuing argument is really personal rather than political? Mike Bartlett's play has plenty of dark humour and a contemporary everyday ordinariness that reminded me of Patrick Marber's 'Closer', but it is a serious work that looks at its themes in a very theatrical way. Intriguing and entertaining – an excellent production.
I worried a little when I discovered that Mike Bartlett's new play 'An Intervention', which we saw at Watford Palace Theatre last Saturday, runs without an interval, takes place mostly in front of curtains (“like Morecambe and Wise or Abbott and Costello”) and has just two characters, designated 'A' and 'B' – who “can be played by actors of any age, gender or ethnicity”. But 'An Intervention' is a very accessible, clever and impressive piece of theatre. It's a funny, thought-provoking and disturbing two-hander – excellently acted by Rachael Stirling and John Hollingworth in a Paines Plough and Watford Palace Theatre production, directed by James Grieve. We last saw Rachael Stirling in Mike Bartlett’s contemporary version of ‘Medea', also at Watford Palace Theatre (reviewed here in November 2012), and she is a wonderful stage actor. 'An Intervention' looks at what happens when you hate your best friend. Can friendship survive when one of you supports the proposed military intervention in a Middle East conflict and the other is on the anti-war protest? And how much of the ensuing argument is really personal rather than political? Mike Bartlett's play has plenty of dark humour and a contemporary everyday ordinariness that reminded me of Patrick Marber's 'Closer', but it is a serious work that looks at its themes in a very theatrical way. Intriguing and entertaining – an excellent production.
Feydeau's 'Every Last Trick' in a new version by Tamsin Oglesby
22 April 2014
I first encountered the inspired lunacy of Spymonkey through their wonderfully silly stage show 'Oedipussy' (reviewed here in February 2012). Last Friday I was back at the Royal Theatre, Northampton, to see two of the four members of Spymonkey tackling a classic Feydeau farce in a new version by Tamsin Oglesby. 'Every Last Trick' was a Royal and Derngate production, directed by Told by an Idiot's Paul Hunter. It was a very impressive combination of physical theatre, clowning, dancing and singing. There were some incredibly funny moments (and some hilarious corpsing!). But 'Every Last Trick' felt a little like a work in progress and I wonder whether there were simply too many creative cooks involved in its preparation. The strict rules of farce seemed to get a bit lost along the way. Nevertheless, it was a very enjoyable experience which was rapturously received by a packed audience.
I first encountered the inspired lunacy of Spymonkey through their wonderfully silly stage show 'Oedipussy' (reviewed here in February 2012). Last Friday I was back at the Royal Theatre, Northampton, to see two of the four members of Spymonkey tackling a classic Feydeau farce in a new version by Tamsin Oglesby. 'Every Last Trick' was a Royal and Derngate production, directed by Told by an Idiot's Paul Hunter. It was a very impressive combination of physical theatre, clowning, dancing and singing. There were some incredibly funny moments (and some hilarious corpsing!). But 'Every Last Trick' felt a little like a work in progress and I wonder whether there were simply too many creative cooks involved in its preparation. The strict rules of farce seemed to get a bit lost along the way. Nevertheless, it was a very enjoyable experience which was rapturously received by a packed audience.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
'Longbourn' by Jo Baker
17 April 2014
Jane Austen's novels must have generated more sequels, prequels, parodies and imitators than any others, but Jo Baker's wonderful novel 'Longbourn' stands out from the crowd. 'Longbourn', which I have just finished reading as an unabridged audio book narrated by Emma Fielding, revisits characters and scenes from 'Pride and Prejudice' from the point of view of the Bennetts' servants. As with Tom Stoppard's 'Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead', for everyone familiar with the original, there is great pleasure to be had from discovering what happened in between the bits we know. And Jo Baker is very good at demonstrating how little those below stairs notice or understand about events which appear so momentous in Austen's story. But 'Longbourn' succeeds so well because it is a complete novel in its own right, with a self-contained plot – an achingly painful love story – that would make it an enjoyable and satisfying read even if you had never heard of 'Pride and Prejudice'. 'Longbourn' is a very modern novel, but completely true to its period setting. It is beautifully written, without succumbing to the temptation to imitate Austen's prose style. Jo Baker evokes the harsh realities of a servant's life and explores some of the darker questions beneath the polite society of Jane Austen's world. Revealing that Mr Bingley's wealth comes from sugar, she explores the role of slavery – which makes for interesting comparisons with those in service in England. The arrival of the army in Meriton takes us on a journey into the horrors of an ordinary soldier's experiences in the European wars. But all this is done without any knowing, contemporary sneering: 'Longbourn' tells it how it was and allows the readers to draw their own conclusions. One of the most intriguing revelations concerns the relationship between Mr and Mrs Bennett. From 'Pride and Prejudice' (and more so in many of its film and TV adaptations) Mr Bennett appears to be a saint, while his wife is an incredibly irritating comic character. It is tempting to wonder how they ever got together. Jo Baker paints a much more sympathetic portrait of Mrs Bennett and shows a darker, but sadly believable, side to her husband. 'Longbourn' is a clever, fascinating and moving novel – highly recommended.
Jane Austen's novels must have generated more sequels, prequels, parodies and imitators than any others, but Jo Baker's wonderful novel 'Longbourn' stands out from the crowd. 'Longbourn', which I have just finished reading as an unabridged audio book narrated by Emma Fielding, revisits characters and scenes from 'Pride and Prejudice' from the point of view of the Bennetts' servants. As with Tom Stoppard's 'Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead', for everyone familiar with the original, there is great pleasure to be had from discovering what happened in between the bits we know. And Jo Baker is very good at demonstrating how little those below stairs notice or understand about events which appear so momentous in Austen's story. But 'Longbourn' succeeds so well because it is a complete novel in its own right, with a self-contained plot – an achingly painful love story – that would make it an enjoyable and satisfying read even if you had never heard of 'Pride and Prejudice'. 'Longbourn' is a very modern novel, but completely true to its period setting. It is beautifully written, without succumbing to the temptation to imitate Austen's prose style. Jo Baker evokes the harsh realities of a servant's life and explores some of the darker questions beneath the polite society of Jane Austen's world. Revealing that Mr Bingley's wealth comes from sugar, she explores the role of slavery – which makes for interesting comparisons with those in service in England. The arrival of the army in Meriton takes us on a journey into the horrors of an ordinary soldier's experiences in the European wars. But all this is done without any knowing, contemporary sneering: 'Longbourn' tells it how it was and allows the readers to draw their own conclusions. One of the most intriguing revelations concerns the relationship between Mr and Mrs Bennett. From 'Pride and Prejudice' (and more so in many of its film and TV adaptations) Mr Bennett appears to be a saint, while his wife is an incredibly irritating comic character. It is tempting to wonder how they ever got together. Jo Baker paints a much more sympathetic portrait of Mrs Bennett and shows a darker, but sadly believable, side to her husband. 'Longbourn' is a clever, fascinating and moving novel – highly recommended.
Friday, April 11, 2014
Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert
11 April 2014
Accompanying a soloist in a concerto is always a difficult discipline for an orchestra. Maintaining balance often requires considerable restraint from the orchestra and the need to follow the soloist's fluctuations of speed can be a significant challenge for the conductor. In the Northampton Symphony Orchestra's concert last Saturday we had the privilege of accompanying the amazing violinist Clare Howick in a performance of Elgar's 'Violin Concerto'. Less well-known but very similar to the Elgar Cello Concerto, this romantic and dramatic work twists and turns the tempo in almost every bar. Clare Howick gave a stunning performance, and it was very exciting to accompany her, but the concentration required throughout the concerto (which lasts nearly 50 minutes) was exhausting. In the second half of the concert we performed Brahms' 'Symphony No. 1', a very 'classical' symphony that feels like supercharged Beethoven. There is a deceptive simplicity to the piece which reveals more and more as you get to know it and builds to a very exciting finale. I think we gave a very strong performance and it was an extremely enjoyable concert.
Accompanying a soloist in a concerto is always a difficult discipline for an orchestra. Maintaining balance often requires considerable restraint from the orchestra and the need to follow the soloist's fluctuations of speed can be a significant challenge for the conductor. In the Northampton Symphony Orchestra's concert last Saturday we had the privilege of accompanying the amazing violinist Clare Howick in a performance of Elgar's 'Violin Concerto'. Less well-known but very similar to the Elgar Cello Concerto, this romantic and dramatic work twists and turns the tempo in almost every bar. Clare Howick gave a stunning performance, and it was very exciting to accompany her, but the concentration required throughout the concerto (which lasts nearly 50 minutes) was exhausting. In the second half of the concert we performed Brahms' 'Symphony No. 1', a very 'classical' symphony that feels like supercharged Beethoven. There is a deceptive simplicity to the piece which reveals more and more as you get to know it and builds to a very exciting finale. I think we gave a very strong performance and it was an extremely enjoyable concert.
Thursday, April 03, 2014
Milton Keynes Sinfonia workshop - ''Sinfonietta' by Leoš Janácek
3 April 2014
As regular readers may remember, I first came across the 'Sinfonietta' by Leoš Janácek in 2007 (reviewed here in October 2007). Last weekend I finally got the opportunity to play the Sinfonietta, in a workshop day at the Open University, organised by Milton Keynes Sinfonia. Following the success of last year's workshop on 'The Rite of Spring' (reviewed here in May 2013), players from Milton Keynes Sinfonia and other local orchestras gathered on Sunday morning to tackle the very different demands of the Janácek work, under the guidance of conductor David Knight. It was a very enjoyable and sociable day – with plenty of tea and cake! - and it was lovely getting to know this wonderful piece of music better by playing it. We finished the afternoon with a very passable informal performance of the Sinfonietta. I'm looking forward to the next MKS workshop.
As regular readers may remember, I first came across the 'Sinfonietta' by Leoš Janácek in 2007 (reviewed here in October 2007). Last weekend I finally got the opportunity to play the Sinfonietta, in a workshop day at the Open University, organised by Milton Keynes Sinfonia. Following the success of last year's workshop on 'The Rite of Spring' (reviewed here in May 2013), players from Milton Keynes Sinfonia and other local orchestras gathered on Sunday morning to tackle the very different demands of the Janácek work, under the guidance of conductor David Knight. It was a very enjoyable and sociable day – with plenty of tea and cake! - and it was lovely getting to know this wonderful piece of music better by playing it. We finished the afternoon with a very passable informal performance of the Sinfonietta. I'm looking forward to the next MKS workshop.
The Lake District
3 April 2014
We had a lovely week in the Lake District. The weather was cold but mostly sunny and we enjoyed some stunning walks. We were staying in a cottage in the village of Uldale, near Caldbeck, North of Keswick, so we mainly explored the Northern parts of the Lake District. We walked around Buttermere and up Sale Fell, overlooking Bassenthwaite Lake. We did a coastal walk at Silloth and visited the popular tourist haunts of Grasmere and Rydal. We particularly enjoyed driving over the spectacular Honister and Kirkstone passes. We also enjoyed some wonderful meals and would recommend the Quince & Medlar vegetarian restaurant in Cockermouth and the Overwater Hall Hotel restaurant near Ireby.
We had a lovely week in the Lake District. The weather was cold but mostly sunny and we enjoyed some stunning walks. We were staying in a cottage in the village of Uldale, near Caldbeck, North of Keswick, so we mainly explored the Northern parts of the Lake District. We walked around Buttermere and up Sale Fell, overlooking Bassenthwaite Lake. We did a coastal walk at Silloth and visited the popular tourist haunts of Grasmere and Rydal. We particularly enjoyed driving over the spectacular Honister and Kirkstone passes. We also enjoyed some wonderful meals and would recommend the Quince & Medlar vegetarian restaurant in Cockermouth and the Overwater Hall Hotel restaurant near Ireby.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
'Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities’ adapted by Mike Poulton
18 March 2014
On Saturday we were at the Royal Theatre in Northampton to see 'Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities’ – a new adaptation by Mike Poulton, with incidental music by Rachel Portman. This was the first production we have seen directed by the Royal & Derngate’s new Artistic Director, James Dacre, and it was great to see him building on some of the key characteristics of his illustrious predecessors – creating a set which appeared to have escaped from the stage and started to colonise the auditorium (much like Rupert Goold might have done), and using a ‘community cast’ of local students and amateur actors to provide crowds and extras to support the professional leads (a feature of many of Laurie Sansom’s Northampton productions). ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ was impressive, effective and enjoyable – whipping through the story at a rapid pace with a swagger and well-judged humour that never detracted from the seriousness of the situation. I particularly liked the sinister appearance of Mairead McKinley’s Madame Defarge in one of the theatre’s boxes, overlooking events on the stage, and knitting furiously throughout.
On Saturday we were at the Royal Theatre in Northampton to see 'Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities’ – a new adaptation by Mike Poulton, with incidental music by Rachel Portman. This was the first production we have seen directed by the Royal & Derngate’s new Artistic Director, James Dacre, and it was great to see him building on some of the key characteristics of his illustrious predecessors – creating a set which appeared to have escaped from the stage and started to colonise the auditorium (much like Rupert Goold might have done), and using a ‘community cast’ of local students and amateur actors to provide crowds and extras to support the professional leads (a feature of many of Laurie Sansom’s Northampton productions). ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ was impressive, effective and enjoyable – whipping through the story at a rapid pace with a swagger and well-judged humour that never detracted from the seriousness of the situation. I particularly liked the sinister appearance of Mairead McKinley’s Madame Defarge in one of the theatre’s boxes, overlooking events on the stage, and knitting furiously throughout.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
St Albans Symphony Orchestra concert
13 March 2014
I've played 'An Alpine Symphony' by Richard Strauss twice - in a workshop day with the Northampton Symphony Orchestra and the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra in 2000 and last year in a workshop in Bedford (reviewed here in October 2013) but I've never seen the piece performed. This is hardly surprising, given the gargantuan forces the symphony requires. It's an incredibly ambitious undertaking for any orchestra, so I was intrigued to see how the St Albans Symphony Orchestra would cope with the challenge in St Albans Abbey last Saturday. The concert opened with 'From the Apocalypse' - a dramatic piece based on 'The Book of Revelation' - by Anatoly Liadov, a Russian composer who was a pupil of Rimsky-Korsakov. We were then treated to a stunning performance of Mendelssohn's 'Violin Concerto' by the exciting young violinist Charlotte Scott, who brought a mixture of passion and delicacy to the concerto. In the loudest passages she arched her back and leaned her head back in the manner of the lead guitarist in a rock band with one foot on the amp. And in the fiendishly difficult quiet waterfalls of notes she bent forward over her violin in intense concentration, her bow bouncing across the strings in perfect metronomic rhythm. The second half of the concert saw the stage packed with extra players for ' An Alpine Symphony'. Merely scaling Strauss's mountain of a symphony and descending again safely without having to stop and restart would represent a considerable achievement. This was a very impressive performance which built to several jaw-dropping climaxes at which it must have been amazing to be conductor Bjorn Bantock, with both arms aloft, unleashing an avalanche of sound. I naturally took a particular interest in the orchestra's horn section and I was very impressed by the principal horn player, Stephen Orriss, who played the impossibly high solo lines wonderful, even towards the end of this mammoth work.
I've played 'An Alpine Symphony' by Richard Strauss twice - in a workshop day with the Northampton Symphony Orchestra and the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra in 2000 and last year in a workshop in Bedford (reviewed here in October 2013) but I've never seen the piece performed. This is hardly surprising, given the gargantuan forces the symphony requires. It's an incredibly ambitious undertaking for any orchestra, so I was intrigued to see how the St Albans Symphony Orchestra would cope with the challenge in St Albans Abbey last Saturday. The concert opened with 'From the Apocalypse' - a dramatic piece based on 'The Book of Revelation' - by Anatoly Liadov, a Russian composer who was a pupil of Rimsky-Korsakov. We were then treated to a stunning performance of Mendelssohn's 'Violin Concerto' by the exciting young violinist Charlotte Scott, who brought a mixture of passion and delicacy to the concerto. In the loudest passages she arched her back and leaned her head back in the manner of the lead guitarist in a rock band with one foot on the amp. And in the fiendishly difficult quiet waterfalls of notes she bent forward over her violin in intense concentration, her bow bouncing across the strings in perfect metronomic rhythm. The second half of the concert saw the stage packed with extra players for ' An Alpine Symphony'. Merely scaling Strauss's mountain of a symphony and descending again safely without having to stop and restart would represent a considerable achievement. This was a very impressive performance which built to several jaw-dropping climaxes at which it must have been amazing to be conductor Bjorn Bantock, with both arms aloft, unleashing an avalanche of sound. I naturally took a particular interest in the orchestra's horn section and I was very impressed by the principal horn player, Stephen Orriss, who played the impossibly high solo lines wonderful, even towards the end of this mammoth work.
Friday, March 07, 2014
'Piano Trio in E minor' (Op 118) by Edwin York Bowen
7 March 2014
This week I have been playing Brahms and listening to York Bowen – and being struck by the similarities. The Northampton Symphony Orchestra has started to rehearse Brahms' 'Symphony No 1', which we are to perform in Northampton at the beginning of April. I'm enjoying the final movement horn solo and practising hard to ensure I am ready for it. I've long had a soft spot for the chamber music of the early 20th century English composer Edwin York Bowen, perhaps because he played the horn (among other instruments). His 'Quintet in C minor for Horn & String Quartet' is a lovely piece – gentle, romantic and tuneful. This week I have been listening to his splendid 'Piano Trio in E minor' (Op 118) (from the album York Bowen Chamber Works Volume 2 by Endymion) which has touches of both Brahms and Rachmaninov.
This week I have been playing Brahms and listening to York Bowen – and being struck by the similarities. The Northampton Symphony Orchestra has started to rehearse Brahms' 'Symphony No 1', which we are to perform in Northampton at the beginning of April. I'm enjoying the final movement horn solo and practising hard to ensure I am ready for it. I've long had a soft spot for the chamber music of the early 20th century English composer Edwin York Bowen, perhaps because he played the horn (among other instruments). His 'Quintet in C minor for Horn & String Quartet' is a lovely piece – gentle, romantic and tuneful. This week I have been listening to his splendid 'Piano Trio in E minor' (Op 118) (from the album York Bowen Chamber Works Volume 2 by Endymion) which has touches of both Brahms and Rachmaninov.
Friday, February 28, 2014
'The Goldfinch' by Donna Tartt
28 February 2014
“Life is catastrophe” – that certainly seems to be true for Theodore Dekker, the hero of Donna Tartt's third novel 'The Goldfinch'. Theo is 13 years old when a visit to the Metropolitan Museum in New York changes his life, as a terrorist bomb destroys a section of the museum and kills Theo's mother. Theo emerges from the wreckage carrying a famous painting, Carel Fabritius' 1654 masterpiece 'The Goldfinch'. Theo's future becomes intertwined with the fate of the painting, and his journey from New York to Las Vegas and Amsterdam, through a succession of guardians, finding and losing friends and soulmates, is thrilling and emotional. 'The Goldfinch', which I read as an unabridged audio book narrated by David Pittu, is an epic work, even longer than 'The Luminaries' by Eleanor Catton (reviewed here in December 2013). If Eleanor Catton was channelling Wilkie Collins, Donna Tartt is definitely a contemporary Charles Dickens. I felt her wonderful second novel 'The Little Friend' – one of my favourite recent American novels – created a Dickensian cast of characters. 'The Goldfinch' continues this approach, combining slightly exaggerated but entirely believable characters with a Dickensian coming of age plot. The orphaned Theo Dekker is a modern day Pip, David Copperfield or Oliver Twist. His best friend, Boris, is his Herbert Pocket – or maybe The Artful Dodger. Donna Tartt writes beautifully with the adult Theo's first person narration reflecting on his childhood in a way that makes you feel exactly what it must have been like for him. This is often a harrowing experience as you really feel Theo's pain, loneliness and despair. Tartt creates empathy rather than sympathy so that, even when Theo commits indefensibly stupid, cruel or criminal acts, you feel you would have done exactly the same in his position. But 'The Goldfinch' is not a miserable novel – it has a slow-burning thriller plot that builds to a terrifying climax. And there is a wonderful twist about three quarters of the way through, which I was terribly satisfied to have spotted when the seeds were planted much earlier in the story. 'The Goldfinch' is a long, and sometimes deliberately slow, novel but expertly constructed, beautifully written and well worth investing your time in.
“Life is catastrophe” – that certainly seems to be true for Theodore Dekker, the hero of Donna Tartt's third novel 'The Goldfinch'. Theo is 13 years old when a visit to the Metropolitan Museum in New York changes his life, as a terrorist bomb destroys a section of the museum and kills Theo's mother. Theo emerges from the wreckage carrying a famous painting, Carel Fabritius' 1654 masterpiece 'The Goldfinch'. Theo's future becomes intertwined with the fate of the painting, and his journey from New York to Las Vegas and Amsterdam, through a succession of guardians, finding and losing friends and soulmates, is thrilling and emotional. 'The Goldfinch', which I read as an unabridged audio book narrated by David Pittu, is an epic work, even longer than 'The Luminaries' by Eleanor Catton (reviewed here in December 2013). If Eleanor Catton was channelling Wilkie Collins, Donna Tartt is definitely a contemporary Charles Dickens. I felt her wonderful second novel 'The Little Friend' – one of my favourite recent American novels – created a Dickensian cast of characters. 'The Goldfinch' continues this approach, combining slightly exaggerated but entirely believable characters with a Dickensian coming of age plot. The orphaned Theo Dekker is a modern day Pip, David Copperfield or Oliver Twist. His best friend, Boris, is his Herbert Pocket – or maybe The Artful Dodger. Donna Tartt writes beautifully with the adult Theo's first person narration reflecting on his childhood in a way that makes you feel exactly what it must have been like for him. This is often a harrowing experience as you really feel Theo's pain, loneliness and despair. Tartt creates empathy rather than sympathy so that, even when Theo commits indefensibly stupid, cruel or criminal acts, you feel you would have done exactly the same in his position. But 'The Goldfinch' is not a miserable novel – it has a slow-burning thriller plot that builds to a terrifying climax. And there is a wonderful twist about three quarters of the way through, which I was terribly satisfied to have spotted when the seeds were planted much earlier in the story. 'The Goldfinch' is a long, and sometimes deliberately slow, novel but expertly constructed, beautifully written and well worth investing your time in.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Northampton Symphony Orchestra concert
20 February 2014
Marking the weekend of St Valentine's Day with a concert about death (the theme was actually love and death, but frankly it was mostly death) didn't appear to be the Northampton Symphony Orchestra's wisest marketing strategy. But we managed to attract a reasonable size of audience who really seemed to appreciate our weighty, romantic repertoire. I think this was the most ambitious programme we have attempted for some time and it was incredibly enjoyable to play. Rachmaninov's symphonic poem 'Die Toteninsel' ('The Isle of the Dead') was inspired by a black and white photograph of a painting by Arnold Böcklin which shows Charon, boatman of the Underworld, rowing a coffin across the river Styx to a lonely island. The relentlessly hypnotic 5/8 rhythm disconcertingly shifts from patterns of 2+3 to 3+2 as the boat shifts in the flow of the river. It's a gently emotional meditation on death. We were then joined by the Australian soprano Helena Dix to perform Mahler's song cycle 'Rückert Lieder' – five settings of poems by Friedrich Rückert. The five songs are each very different, varying from the playful to the dramatic to the achingly beautiful. There is a style and a beauty in several of the 'Rückert Lieder' that is echoed in the 'Four Last Songs' by Richard Strauss, written nearly 50 years later. The second half of our concert started with the 'Prelude and Liebestod' from Wagner's 'Tristan und Isolde' with Helena Dix signing the part of Isolde – the apogee of romantic music, a heart-rending climax of ecstasy and tragedy. After which we had to dig deep in our reserves of emotional stamina to perform the Richard Strauss tone poem 'Tod und Verklärung' ('Death and Transfiguration'). This remarkable piece, representing the dying hours of a man reflecting on his past life before the soul leaves his body, was written when the composer was barely 25 years old. When we started rehearsing 'Tod und Verklärung' I mistook references to 'the Superman motif', assuming that this somehow related to Nietzsche and his concept of Übermensch from Also Sprach Zarathustra (itself the subject of a tone poem by Richard Strauss). I soon realised I had been somewhat over-intellectualising and that we were actually talking about the bit that sounds remarkably like John Williams' theme for the 1978 film 'Superman'! This heroic phrase, with its glorious, drawn-out octave leap provides a stunning climax in the middle of 'Tod und Verklärung' and then becomes the basis for an ethereal, haunting, slow canon as life begins to seep away. It was an emotionally exhausting performance that I thoroughly enjoyed being part of.
Marking the weekend of St Valentine's Day with a concert about death (the theme was actually love and death, but frankly it was mostly death) didn't appear to be the Northampton Symphony Orchestra's wisest marketing strategy. But we managed to attract a reasonable size of audience who really seemed to appreciate our weighty, romantic repertoire. I think this was the most ambitious programme we have attempted for some time and it was incredibly enjoyable to play. Rachmaninov's symphonic poem 'Die Toteninsel' ('The Isle of the Dead') was inspired by a black and white photograph of a painting by Arnold Böcklin which shows Charon, boatman of the Underworld, rowing a coffin across the river Styx to a lonely island. The relentlessly hypnotic 5/8 rhythm disconcertingly shifts from patterns of 2+3 to 3+2 as the boat shifts in the flow of the river. It's a gently emotional meditation on death. We were then joined by the Australian soprano Helena Dix to perform Mahler's song cycle 'Rückert Lieder' – five settings of poems by Friedrich Rückert. The five songs are each very different, varying from the playful to the dramatic to the achingly beautiful. There is a style and a beauty in several of the 'Rückert Lieder' that is echoed in the 'Four Last Songs' by Richard Strauss, written nearly 50 years later. The second half of our concert started with the 'Prelude and Liebestod' from Wagner's 'Tristan und Isolde' with Helena Dix signing the part of Isolde – the apogee of romantic music, a heart-rending climax of ecstasy and tragedy. After which we had to dig deep in our reserves of emotional stamina to perform the Richard Strauss tone poem 'Tod und Verklärung' ('Death and Transfiguration'). This remarkable piece, representing the dying hours of a man reflecting on his past life before the soul leaves his body, was written when the composer was barely 25 years old. When we started rehearsing 'Tod und Verklärung' I mistook references to 'the Superman motif', assuming that this somehow related to Nietzsche and his concept of Übermensch from Also Sprach Zarathustra (itself the subject of a tone poem by Richard Strauss). I soon realised I had been somewhat over-intellectualising and that we were actually talking about the bit that sounds remarkably like John Williams' theme for the 1978 film 'Superman'! This heroic phrase, with its glorious, drawn-out octave leap provides a stunning climax in the middle of 'Tod und Verklärung' and then becomes the basis for an ethereal, haunting, slow canon as life begins to seep away. It was an emotionally exhausting performance that I thoroughly enjoyed being part of.
Friday, February 14, 2014
'Through the Eyes of the Sun' by Belonoga
14 February 2014
The peculiarly beautiful vocal harmonies of Bulgarian choral music gained widespread attention in the UK in 1986 with the release of 'Le Mystère des Voix Bulgares' - a Grammy award winning album of Bulgarian folk songs performed by the Bulgarian State Radio & Television Female Vocal Choir. I first encountered this magical sound in 1989 when Kate Bush featured the Trio Bulgarka on her album 'The Sensual World'. The songs 'Deeper Understanding' and 'Rocket's Tail' make gorgeous use of those strange scrunchy Bulgarian harmonies. My favourite example of the Bulgarian vocal sound is the 2003 album 'Bulgarian Soul' in which the classical opera singer Vesselina Kasarova revisits Bulgarian folk songs, backed by the Cosmic Voices from Bulgaria – it's a really beautiful set of songs. More recently I discovered the Eva Quartet – four young singers from the Mystère Des Voix Bulgares choir. This week I have been listening to 'Through the Eyes of the Sun' by Belonoga – a solo project by Eva Quartet member Gergana Dimitrova. This album uses the Bulgarian singing style in a sparse, new-age musical environment, mixing wordless vocals with electronic and acoustic instruments, a variety of percussion and even a didgeridoo! The effect is gentle, laid-back, mysterious and beautiful but I missed the close harmonies of the multi-voice choirs and the tunes are not so immediately catchy as the Bulgarian folk songs featured in the earlier albums. Nevertheless this is an interesting and very different collection of music.
The peculiarly beautiful vocal harmonies of Bulgarian choral music gained widespread attention in the UK in 1986 with the release of 'Le Mystère des Voix Bulgares' - a Grammy award winning album of Bulgarian folk songs performed by the Bulgarian State Radio & Television Female Vocal Choir. I first encountered this magical sound in 1989 when Kate Bush featured the Trio Bulgarka on her album 'The Sensual World'. The songs 'Deeper Understanding' and 'Rocket's Tail' make gorgeous use of those strange scrunchy Bulgarian harmonies. My favourite example of the Bulgarian vocal sound is the 2003 album 'Bulgarian Soul' in which the classical opera singer Vesselina Kasarova revisits Bulgarian folk songs, backed by the Cosmic Voices from Bulgaria – it's a really beautiful set of songs. More recently I discovered the Eva Quartet – four young singers from the Mystère Des Voix Bulgares choir. This week I have been listening to 'Through the Eyes of the Sun' by Belonoga – a solo project by Eva Quartet member Gergana Dimitrova. This album uses the Bulgarian singing style in a sparse, new-age musical environment, mixing wordless vocals with electronic and acoustic instruments, a variety of percussion and even a didgeridoo! The effect is gentle, laid-back, mysterious and beautiful but I missed the close harmonies of the multi-voice choirs and the tunes are not so immediately catchy as the Bulgarian folk songs featured in the earlier albums. Nevertheless this is an interesting and very different collection of music.
Friday, February 07, 2014
'Tin Star' by Lindi Ortega
7 February 2014
A Canadian singer of Mexican and Irish descent might not seem an obvious candidate to become a major star of American country music but on her new album ‘Tin Star’, Lindi Ortega manages to sound both like the "love child of Dolly Parton and Johnny Cash" and a Nashville version of Amy Winehouse. She has a distinctive voice with a compelling mix of power and vulnerability. ‘Tin Star’ is a country rock album that encompasses a variety of styles from gentle country ballad to jaunty rockabilly (‘All These Cats’) to powerful rock’n’roll that has more than a hint of Arctic Monkeys about it (‘I Want You’). This is instantly likeable music that also seems to have staying-power.
A Canadian singer of Mexican and Irish descent might not seem an obvious candidate to become a major star of American country music but on her new album ‘Tin Star’, Lindi Ortega manages to sound both like the "love child of Dolly Parton and Johnny Cash" and a Nashville version of Amy Winehouse. She has a distinctive voice with a compelling mix of power and vulnerability. ‘Tin Star’ is a country rock album that encompasses a variety of styles from gentle country ballad to jaunty rockabilly (‘All These Cats’) to powerful rock’n’roll that has more than a hint of Arctic Monkeys about it (‘I Want You’). This is instantly likeable music that also seems to have staying-power.
Friday, January 31, 2014
'The Bridge'
31 January 2014
Of the current wave of Scandi-crime TV series I think the Danish/Swedish co-production ‘The Bridge’ (the second series of which comes to its conclusion on BBC4 this weekend) is my favourite. Despite being very violent and macabre it’s also incredibly funny. Detective Saga Noren from Malmo County Police is a brilliant character: her Asperger traits take the quirkiness of Sherlock to another level but we are never laughing at her condition – she is a sympathetic, strong and impressive centre to the story. Her professional relationship with her Danish counterpart, Martin Rohde, is warm and believable and it is really interesting to see how it has developed in this second series. The writing is clever and witty, the photography and direction are stunning and the plot is fantastically convoluted, littered with the corpses of a trawlerful of red herrings. I love the way we follow the lives of a host of seemingly unconnected characters for ages before their link to the crimes under investigation is revealed. It is very tempting to suspect each new character to be the criminal mastermind behind everything that has happened. I’m very much looking forward to the final two episodes and the subsequent analysis on Stuart Jeffries excellent series blog on the Guardian website at: http://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/series/the-bridge-episode-by-episode
Of the current wave of Scandi-crime TV series I think the Danish/Swedish co-production ‘The Bridge’ (the second series of which comes to its conclusion on BBC4 this weekend) is my favourite. Despite being very violent and macabre it’s also incredibly funny. Detective Saga Noren from Malmo County Police is a brilliant character: her Asperger traits take the quirkiness of Sherlock to another level but we are never laughing at her condition – she is a sympathetic, strong and impressive centre to the story. Her professional relationship with her Danish counterpart, Martin Rohde, is warm and believable and it is really interesting to see how it has developed in this second series. The writing is clever and witty, the photography and direction are stunning and the plot is fantastically convoluted, littered with the corpses of a trawlerful of red herrings. I love the way we follow the lives of a host of seemingly unconnected characters for ages before their link to the crimes under investigation is revealed. It is very tempting to suspect each new character to be the criminal mastermind behind everything that has happened. I’m very much looking forward to the final two episodes and the subsequent analysis on Stuart Jeffries excellent series blog on the Guardian website at: http://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/series/the-bridge-episode-by-episode
Friday, January 24, 2014
'Traces Of You' by Anoushka Shankar
24 January 2014
'Traces Of You', the new album from Anoushka Shankar, is an intriguing collaboration with brings together Ravi Shankar's daughters, Anoushka and Norah Jones, and the British producer Nitin Sawhney. The resulting mixture of styles is hard to categorise as Anoushka Shankar's sitar plays alongside Norah Jones' vocals, Nitin Sawhney's excellent flamenco guitar and a variety of other instruments from piano to tabla. It's a compelling mix with touches of jazz, Indian classical music, pop and more. Gentle, attractive, thoughtful and innovative music.
'Traces Of You', the new album from Anoushka Shankar, is an intriguing collaboration with brings together Ravi Shankar's daughters, Anoushka and Norah Jones, and the British producer Nitin Sawhney. The resulting mixture of styles is hard to categorise as Anoushka Shankar's sitar plays alongside Norah Jones' vocals, Nitin Sawhney's excellent flamenco guitar and a variety of other instruments from piano to tabla. It's a compelling mix with touches of jazz, Indian classical music, pop and more. Gentle, attractive, thoughtful and innovative music.
Friday, January 17, 2014
'Die tote Stadt' by Eirch Korngold
17 January 2014
I really enjoyed listening to the violinist Nicola Benedetti on Desert Island Discs on BBC Radio 4 this week. She displayed an infectious enthusiasm and inspirational passion for each of the pieces of music she chose which sent me straight to Spotify to listen to them at greater length. In particular I was taken with her love of Korngold, an underrated composer who I have written about here before (in April 2008 and October 2008). I had not previously listened to his opera Die tote Stadt (from which Nicola Benedetti chose an aria) but I am now a big fan. This is lush, romantic music, achingly beautiful, dramatic and tuneful.
I really enjoyed listening to the violinist Nicola Benedetti on Desert Island Discs on BBC Radio 4 this week. She displayed an infectious enthusiasm and inspirational passion for each of the pieces of music she chose which sent me straight to Spotify to listen to them at greater length. In particular I was taken with her love of Korngold, an underrated composer who I have written about here before (in April 2008 and October 2008). I had not previously listened to his opera Die tote Stadt (from which Nicola Benedetti chose an aria) but I am now a big fan. This is lush, romantic music, achingly beautiful, dramatic and tuneful.
Friday, January 10, 2014
'Mark Steel's In Town'
10 January 2014
It was great to see the return of ‘Mark Steel’s In Town’ this week (BBC Radio 4, Wednesdays at 6.30 pm). As I wrote here in March 2007: “the real test of a stand-up comedian’s skill is playing a small-town arts centre on a weekday evening”. I spoke then about a particular young comedian I had seen many years ago at the arts centre in Grantham: “demonstrating how little she knew her audience she started to tell a joke set in a nightclub and asked us to name the best nightclub in Grantham. After several minutes of discussion the audience concluded it didn’t know of any nightclubs in Grantham and, somewhat reluctantly, the comedian agreed, as a compromise, to set her joke in a nightclub in nearby Nottingham.” The excellent Mark Steel (reviewed here in June 2006 and May 2009) conversely demonstrates the greatest respect for his audiences by constructing each show in his ‘Mark Steel’s In Town’ series to be specifically about the relevant town. Undertaking extensive research he creates 30 minutes of material that reflect the idiosyncrasies, prejudices and peculiarities of each location back to its residents. And then he tests the results by trying to make an audience of locals laugh about themselves. It’s invariably incredibly funny but this week’s show, focussing on Glastonbury in Somerset, was a particularly good one. I can’t remember an episode in which the audience answered back quite so much, resulting in a splendid argument between the comedian and the collective voice of Glastonbury. Well worth a listen at: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b03nt9w6
It was great to see the return of ‘Mark Steel’s In Town’ this week (BBC Radio 4, Wednesdays at 6.30 pm). As I wrote here in March 2007: “the real test of a stand-up comedian’s skill is playing a small-town arts centre on a weekday evening”. I spoke then about a particular young comedian I had seen many years ago at the arts centre in Grantham: “demonstrating how little she knew her audience she started to tell a joke set in a nightclub and asked us to name the best nightclub in Grantham. After several minutes of discussion the audience concluded it didn’t know of any nightclubs in Grantham and, somewhat reluctantly, the comedian agreed, as a compromise, to set her joke in a nightclub in nearby Nottingham.” The excellent Mark Steel (reviewed here in June 2006 and May 2009) conversely demonstrates the greatest respect for his audiences by constructing each show in his ‘Mark Steel’s In Town’ series to be specifically about the relevant town. Undertaking extensive research he creates 30 minutes of material that reflect the idiosyncrasies, prejudices and peculiarities of each location back to its residents. And then he tests the results by trying to make an audience of locals laugh about themselves. It’s invariably incredibly funny but this week’s show, focussing on Glastonbury in Somerset, was a particularly good one. I can’t remember an episode in which the audience answered back quite so much, resulting in a splendid argument between the comedian and the collective voice of Glastonbury. Well worth a listen at: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b03nt9w6
Friday, January 03, 2014
'Various Pets Alive & Dead' by Marina Lewycka
3 January 2014
I've previously compared the novelist Marina Lewycka to David Lodge and Anne Tyler (in reviewing 'We Are All Made of Glue' here in January 2011 and ‘A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian’ in April 2006). She writes entertaining contemporary comic novels with a lightness of touch that acts as a Trojan horse for some serious themes. I really enjoyed Marina Lewycka's latest novel 'Various Pets Alive & Dead' which deals with the financial crisis of 2008. Mathematician Serge is a 'quant' (quantitative analyst) at Finance and Trading Consolidated Alliance at the heart of the London banking world but his mother, Doro, thinks he is completing his PhD in Cambridge. Doro still lives in Doncaster where she brought up her family in a socialist commune. Her daughter Clara is a primary school teacher who lives in Sheffield. Each chapter is told through the eyes of one of these three characters. Gradually we piece together their stories, the history of the commune and the contrast between political ideals and the pragmatic modern world. Short chapters create a real pace to the intertwined narratives which builds to some wonderful comic set pieces as the separate lives of the main characters come together. There are some mysteries buried in this family history, not all of which are neatly tied up. 'Various Pets Alive & Dead' is an enjoyable and thought-provoking read.
I've previously compared the novelist Marina Lewycka to David Lodge and Anne Tyler (in reviewing 'We Are All Made of Glue' here in January 2011 and ‘A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian’ in April 2006). She writes entertaining contemporary comic novels with a lightness of touch that acts as a Trojan horse for some serious themes. I really enjoyed Marina Lewycka's latest novel 'Various Pets Alive & Dead' which deals with the financial crisis of 2008. Mathematician Serge is a 'quant' (quantitative analyst) at Finance and Trading Consolidated Alliance at the heart of the London banking world but his mother, Doro, thinks he is completing his PhD in Cambridge. Doro still lives in Doncaster where she brought up her family in a socialist commune. Her daughter Clara is a primary school teacher who lives in Sheffield. Each chapter is told through the eyes of one of these three characters. Gradually we piece together their stories, the history of the commune and the contrast between political ideals and the pragmatic modern world. Short chapters create a real pace to the intertwined narratives which builds to some wonderful comic set pieces as the separate lives of the main characters come together. There are some mysteries buried in this family history, not all of which are neatly tied up. 'Various Pets Alive & Dead' is an enjoyable and thought-provoking read.
Friday, December 20, 2013
'The Luminaries' by Eleanor Catton
20 December 2013
Eleanor Catton broke two records this year, becoming the youngest ever winner of the Man Booker Prize with the longest winning novel, 'The Luminaries'. An 832-page novel is a daunting prospect for the reader but I was intrigued by the reviews and decided to tackle it as an unabridged audio book (lasting more than 29 hours!), narrated by Mark Meadows. 'The Luminaries is a complicated crime mystery set in the New Zealand gold rush of the 1860s. The story opens with Walter Moody, newly arrived in the small town of Hokitika, walking into the lounge of the Crown Hotel to discover an odd assortment of twelve men gathered to discuss a series of violent and puzzling recent events. The truth about what has happened is gradually revealed through the eyes of these twelve witnesses before the remaining gaps in the story are filled in from the point of view of its main protagonists. 'The Luminaries' is written in the style of a Victorian thriller that could have come from the pen of Wilkie Collins (such as 'The Moonstone', reviewed here in June 2009, or 'The Woman in White', reviewed here in October 2012). On the face of it the story is simple tale of love, deceit, greed and treachery, made complicated by its length, the large number of characters, the unreliability of some of its narrators and the non-linear way in which we encounter the main events. Beneath this narrative Eleanor Catton sets herself a remarkable challenge, aligning her characters with astrological signs and planets and relating their interactions with each other to the relevant star charts. The lengths of her chapters get shorter as the book progresses, emulating the waning of the moon as the two principal characters representing the sun and moon (The Luminaries) are drawn apart and then together. The thriller plot is intriguing enough to hold your attention without attempting to understand the astrological underpinning and Catton creates a massive cast of distinctive characters whose names seem to take on a poetic quality. There are quite a few loose ends that do not appear to be tied up (Who did kill Francis Carver? And what role did Adrian Moody play in the events?). But I enjoyed my 29 hours in Hokitika, Kanieri and the Arahura.
Eleanor Catton broke two records this year, becoming the youngest ever winner of the Man Booker Prize with the longest winning novel, 'The Luminaries'. An 832-page novel is a daunting prospect for the reader but I was intrigued by the reviews and decided to tackle it as an unabridged audio book (lasting more than 29 hours!), narrated by Mark Meadows. 'The Luminaries is a complicated crime mystery set in the New Zealand gold rush of the 1860s. The story opens with Walter Moody, newly arrived in the small town of Hokitika, walking into the lounge of the Crown Hotel to discover an odd assortment of twelve men gathered to discuss a series of violent and puzzling recent events. The truth about what has happened is gradually revealed through the eyes of these twelve witnesses before the remaining gaps in the story are filled in from the point of view of its main protagonists. 'The Luminaries' is written in the style of a Victorian thriller that could have come from the pen of Wilkie Collins (such as 'The Moonstone', reviewed here in June 2009, or 'The Woman in White', reviewed here in October 2012). On the face of it the story is simple tale of love, deceit, greed and treachery, made complicated by its length, the large number of characters, the unreliability of some of its narrators and the non-linear way in which we encounter the main events. Beneath this narrative Eleanor Catton sets herself a remarkable challenge, aligning her characters with astrological signs and planets and relating their interactions with each other to the relevant star charts. The lengths of her chapters get shorter as the book progresses, emulating the waning of the moon as the two principal characters representing the sun and moon (The Luminaries) are drawn apart and then together. The thriller plot is intriguing enough to hold your attention without attempting to understand the astrological underpinning and Catton creates a massive cast of distinctive characters whose names seem to take on a poetic quality. There are quite a few loose ends that do not appear to be tied up (Who did kill Francis Carver? And what role did Adrian Moody play in the events?). But I enjoyed my 29 hours in Hokitika, Kanieri and the Arahura.
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