Hard on the heels of Fanny and Stella, a great success in the new Garden Theatre at The Eagle earlier this summer, Steven Dexter’s imaginative take on Pippin is both intimate and immediate.

Seating on both sides means that the space becomes a mini-traverse. The talented cast of six, accompanied, by Michael Bradley on keyboard and just in sight, use every inch of it. In the introductory sequence one actor neatly landed in the splits at my feet and muttered something about liking my necklace.

Pippin is, of course, the story of Charlemagne’s son – sort of. First produced in 1972, it timelessly explores themes of ambition, fulfilment and what really matters in life with a cynically witty dismissal of military values and nationalism in favour of family life and farming.

Joanne Clifton excels as both Pippin’s mother and grandmother, posturing, pouting and twisting her apparently rubber body into unlikely shapes. She is also very funny, especially in her show stopper number “Oh it’s time to start living” in which she gets the audience to join in and then quips that because of their face masks she can’t see whether they’re singing the right words.

Among a lot of good music, Dan Krikler’s patter song so reminiscent of G&S – double speed in the final verse “because we’re running out of time” stands out.

Ryan Anderson is lyrical and plaintive as Pippin, hitting his high notes with warmth and being very convincing as a troubled young man.

I also admired Tsemaye Bob-Egbe as the lead player who directs the show within a show. She has oodles of stage presence and a powerful singing voice.

And what a joy, incidentally, to hear all this in an resonant space without radio mics. The closeness means that you can hear the harmony – and who is singing what – with unusual clarity.

It must be quite a challenge to choreograph this show in a space barely 20-feet long and 10-feet wide when you’re meant to be social distancing. Nick Winston, though, has risen to it with aplomb and the show is both vibrant and arresting. The balletic fight against the Visigoths is particularly good.

Frist published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/a-case-study-in-how-to-present-a-large-piece-on-a-small-covid-times-scale-and-do-it-well/

This production enjoys one of the most exquisite settings I’ve seen in quite a while. Stephens House and Gardens in Finchley was the home of ‘Inky’ Stephens – the man who made his fortune from Stephens Ink. His bothy garden is a self-contained walled space which could have been designed for theatre with an entrance at both ends and one on the side. It’s good for sound too despite the wind rustling the trees and children playing in the distance. All the cast needed were the unobtrusive floor mics and a couple of speakers to make the whole thing very audible.

Charles Ward’s six-hander play, directed here by Emma Butler, is a playful exploration of the time when Machiavelli and Leonardo da Vinci both lived in Cesare Borgia’s court. They switch identities and try to pull the wool over various people’s eyes, especially three key women. Imagine all the dramatic irony of Cosi fan Tutte or As You Like It spliced with some of the absurdity of a modern TV sit-com. And it’s all written in verse, mostly iambic pentameter with a lot of internal rhyme such as “gazing at the Christ child blazing” or “a mirage, a meaningless, worthless entourage.” Yes, it’s an ambitious piece but it mostly comes off without getting too bogged down in its own elegant cleverness.

James Corrigan, as Cesare, is very good at delivering high flown rhetoric punctuated with modern mannerisms and asides. He makes it sound very natural and his performance creates an appealing charisma.

There’s a fine performance from Hannah Morrish as Lucrezia too especially in the scene when she tells Corrigan’s character that she can’t sleep with him because she has the ‘Swiss Disease’ which is much worse than the French one a.k.a. syphilis, because it causes men to turn into women. It’s farcically funny.

Haydn Gwynne brings the witty hauteur she excels at to Isabella d’Este and Nicholas Limm is funny as Machiavelli particularly when he’s wrong footed. Akshay Sharan’s Leonardo is both put upon and pragmatic and Bethan Cullinane is sexily cunning at Caterina.

All this is staged on a small circular stage in one corner of the leafy ‘auditorium’ and the cast simply wear modern clothes in shades of white, beige and dusky rose so that there’s visual serenity to contrast with the conflict between characters.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/one-of-the-most-exquisite-settings-ive-seen-in-quite-a-while/

It lasts one hour and it wins its fifth star for its freshness and ingenuity.

Six actors and a folksy musician with concertina (Ollie King – warmly supportive) get together to perform a socially distanced dream so we start with Beshlie Thorp casting it in Peter Quince mode. Of course there’s much complaining, argument and silliness. Then we’re at Theseus’s court where actors send up both each other and what they’re doing – wheels within wheels within wheels.

It’s richly funny. The scene in which Lysander (George Readshaw) proposes to Hermia (Mofetoluwa Akande) with a ring before they go off to get lost in the woods is beautifully judged complete with latex gloves. And Harry Humberstone is the most hilarious mime artist I’ve seen in a long time, moving his wall as Snout and doing outlandish things with body and voice as Theseus/Oberon. James Camp is suitably dastardly as Demetrius and plays Bottom with an impressive range of funny faces and impeccable comic timing. Stage business with retractable steel rulers and make up brushes are the order of the day.

Broughton is a picture box English village and it was a privilege to review a play in yet another stunning setting (I saw Renaissance in the Bothy Garden at Stephens House and Garden the day before). About a hundred people attended, sitting in socially distanced bubbles. A good ‘house’ given the short notice at which this performance was arranged. Best of all was the number of children in the audience.  One girl near me, maybe 10, laughed until she rattled and there were two little boys at the front, perhaps 7 and 5, who were utterly transfixed. In good hands Shakespeare works. QED.

This show was in preparation in March and would have toured. It has been revived and skilfully adapted so that it’s Covid compatible and runs with the humour of the situation we all find ourselves in. But in present circumstance there have been sadly few performances. There should be one more in Oxford next week unless new government restrictions prevent it.