Press ESC or click the X to close this window

Stories on a String

Little Angel Theatre

This charming little show celebrates Literatura de Cordel, a musical style of performance poetry from Northeastern Brazil.

I’m glad I don’t have to stage-manage it because, simple as it looks, we see lots of drawings on cards which become quasi puppets and it must be quite a challenge to get them in the right order. The traffic jam in San Paolo (largest city in South America with a population of 20 million we learned in passing) with the whole audience hooting while the drawings of vehicles harassed each other is great fun. And it sets the tone for a delightful story which manages to be very folksy as well as making fun of mobile phone dependence.

Justina is sent to the country to spend the summer with her grandmother. She is initially resentful but, sent on a quest, she eventually realises the joys of the jungle and that there are more interesting, real things in life to identify with. She meets, for example, a lion, a beautiful bird, a sprite, a spider and more – all, like Justina, puppets nicely made by Judith Hope.

Directed and co-written by Rachel Warr, Stories on a String features four talented performers. Co-writer, Rachel Hayter narrates and plays several musical instruments, her sound – especially on flute – blending well with Camilio Menjura who is the main musician. Puppets are, mostly, in the hands of Jum Faruq and Ajjaz Awad, whose teamwork is striking. Both are actors and singers who perform through their puppets whose voices and facial expressions they project. Faruq, in particular, gives us a totally believable Justina, variously cross, scared, entranced and innocent.

It’s an engaging hour of theatre. Take anyone over three.
 First published by Sardines: http://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/reviews/review.php?REVIEW-Little%20Angel%20Theatre-Stories%20on%20a%20String&reviewsID=3229

Chichester Festival Theatre

Simon Higlet’s delightful set is what I shall remember most vividly about this revival of Enid Bagnold’s 1955 play, written when she was already in her mid sixties with National Velvet long behind her. It’s a garden room with conservatory at the back and we’re close to the sea on the Sussex coast. There’s lots of shingle, arranged in scallop pattern around the edge of the playing area. The room itself is full of retrospective 1950s clutter from magazine racks and rugs to sprawling sofas and a big garden work bench. It looks lovely and feels convincingly homely. Emma Laxton’s seagulls and other atmospheric sounds place the piece very firmly too.

The play itself, however, is wordy and wooden, especially in Acts I and 2 which provide a longish first half. It moves on a little more after the interval.

Mrs St. Maugham (Penelope Keith) has charge of her teenage granddaughter, Laurel (Emma Curtis) and employs a companion, Miss Madrigal, (Amanda Root) for her. Then Laurel’s mother, Olivia (Caroline Harker) decides to remove her child. Other characters include a Judge (Oliver Ford Davies) who’s a family friend and Maitland (Matthew Cottle) the man of all work. There is very little action in the quasi present. Instead we get a great deal of talking as various bits of back story emerge – I began to long for Hedda Gabler with her father’s pistols or Malvolio in yellow stockings and cross garters.

Penelope Keith is, of course, terrific as Mrs St. Maugham. She delivers those rapier thrust put-downs as well as Maggie Smith does except that Keith, as ever, does it with a disarming twinkle rather than a glare. That’s the deal with Keith. She is always the same – invariably cast in these bossy patrician (matrician?) roles. It’s enjoyable enough but don’t expect any surprises.

Exactly the same applies to Oliver Ford Davies. He does elderly, urbane, anguished judges, bishops, statesmen and the like, pretty well but it’s a very predictable performance.

The most interesting acting in this show comes from Amanda Root as the initially enigmatic Miss Madrigal. Her character has a pretty dramatic past, a great deal of unexpected knowledge, expertise and learning and is a complete contrast to other characters. Root finds a thoughtful, tense, unsmiling stillness in her so that we know almost from her first stiff-backed appearance at her job interview that there is a great deal more to this woman than meets the eye. Root makes her very intriguing and her silences are splendidly eloquent.

Matthew Cottle is quite engaging as the servant, who also has a past – which is not a secret but I’m afraid Emma Curtis is unconvincing as a curious, disinhibited, somewhat damaged teenager even for the 1950s.

Bagnold was a self indulgent writer and, I gather, many of her more flamboyant lines were coaxed out by her American editor. I’m glad, though, that “It’s time I looked at boys or I shan’t get the hang of it” and “Judges don’t age. Time decorates them” survived the cuts.

First published by Sardines: http://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/reviews/review.php?REVIEW-Chichester%20Festival%20Theatre%20(professional)-The%20Chalk%20Garden&reviewsID=3228

society/company: Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre (professional productions) (directory)
performance date: 25 May 2018
venue: Regent’s Park Open-Air Theatre

It’s been a while since I cried in the theatre but I defy you not to at this intensely poignant, deeply moving take on Peter Pan which marks the end of World War One.

The premise is that the John and Michael Darling and the Lost Boys really would have been lost a few years after the premiere of Peter Pan in 1904. Most would have perished in the trenches.

So directors, Timothy Sheader and Liam Steel set their production in a field hospital where hideously injured men yearn for letters from their mothers. Gradually the imaginative power of story telling takes over, the beds move and morph into other things (set by Jon Bausor) and the dreamlike story of Peter Pan is acted out using far more of JM Barrie’s words than most versions do. But it’s anchored. We never leave the hospital and the front – soldiers march in and out, often singing hauntingly evocative WW1 songs. The movement work is fabulous.

There’s a three-piece band, out of sight, at the back and singer Rebecca Thorn, costumed as an elegant Edwardian lady, wanders round the set singing arrangements of numbers such as Keep the Home Fires Burning across the action. It’s a very thoughtful and thought provoking device.

One of the many strengths in this outstanding show is the puppetry (directed by Rachael Canning). Every puppet is formed from items which might have been lying about in a trench or hospital. Tinker Bell (beautifully puppeted by talented Elisa de Gray) is an angry oil lamp, snapping, spitting, farting and laughing gleefully. The mermaids are lamps with corrugated iron tails. Nurse’s dresses become fishes. And the crocodile is a snapping step ladder.

Cora Kirk who starts as an overworked junior nurse and then becomes Wendy is delightful. She brings touching warmth and wisdom to her role and her last line (no spoilers here) is a real tour de force. She uses a homely northern accent and, as Wendy, perfectly captures that transition between childhood and womanhood – shifting frequently from one to the other.

Sam Angell gives us a very child-like Glaswegian Peter Pan jumping about, having fun but vulnerably searching for what he can’t have or is afraid to take. He becomes a tragic figure at the end. There are no weak links in this fine cast (complete with “extras” from East 15 and ArtsEd) but Caroline Deyga is exceptionally good value as the larger than life matron who becomes Smee and there’s really lovely work from Lewis Griffin as Tootles and from Dennis Herdman as Hook, really a disdainful WW1 officer.

The bungee work which allows flying works well with ladders at the side of the stage up which other actors move up and down to counter balance it. It allows characters to fly all over the playing area and quite a distance into the auditorium.

One of the final scenes is set much later – maybe in the 1980s – when the few survivors, presumably at a reunion, tall each other what their lives have been since. It’s intensely powerful and leaves you wondering, as of course, you’re meant to, just what on earth this war was for.

First staged in 2014 to mark the beginning of the centenary, this revival has developed a lot. It’s now a marvellous show, one of the best I’ve seen in a very long time – don’t miss it.
 
 First published by Sardines http://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/reviews/review.php?REVIEW-Regent%E2%80%99s%20Park%20Open%20Air%20Theatre%20(professional%20productions)-Peter%20Pan&reviewsID=3221
 
 
 
 
 

Working, performed by the Royal Academy of Music’s Musical Theatre Company and Orchestra, continues at the Susie Sainsbury Theatre, London until 17 June 2018.

Star rating: three stars ★ ★ ★ ✩ ✩

Working is a strange show. Based on interviews by American journalist Studs Terkel with ordinary people from all walks of life, it consists of a series of unrelated monologues and songs.

Plot-less and with little in the way of cohesion it is part revue, part concert and feels oddly like a student showcase at times. In fact, I’m sure many of these numbers will soon find their way into student showcases if they haven’t already. Some of them would make useful audition pieces too.

That said, it includes some quite imaginatively choreographed (Aline David) use of ensemble to back soloists and provide visual interest.

The final number …

Read the rest of this review at Musica Theatre Review: http://musicaltheatrereview.com/royal-academy-of-music/

When I interviewed Emma Troubridge, ROH’s Head of Scenic Art, recently, she told me that this Swan Lake is the biggest show she has worked on in twenty years in the job. Having now seen it, I understand what she means. No wonder the audience of 2000 primary school children with whom I shared the experience gasped audibly and applauded spontaneously when they saw the massive, grandiloquent sets for Acts 2 and 3 (designed by John Macfarlane). The costumes – especially for the Spanish dance which is all swirly red, black and sequins – are stunning and choreographers Marius Petipa, Lev Ivanov and Liam Scarlett use every inch of the vast playing space. Everything is on a grand scale.

Seated by the press officer in a stage right box (with slightly restricted stage view) I had an unusual overview of the orchestra in the pit below me along with its conductor Valery Ovsyanikov. With my accustomed technical interest I could even see which positions the leader was using in the violin solos. It is, of course, a great joy to see this famous, beloved ballet accompanied by a full orchestra – hurrah for ROH production values – complete with four trumpets, plenty of strings including five double basses. This is what Tchaikovsky’s wonderfully powerful score needs but, sadly, doesn’t always get. Here it sounds sumptuous – especially in the final few pages with the brass sounding fortissimo tragedy and despair.

On stage, meanwhile, there’s plenty to admire too. Yasmine Naghdi is a fine Odette/Odile with suitably sustained pirouettes and plenty of fluid swan-like “flying” – leaving the ground with apparent effortlessness when dancing with the men: Nehemiah Kish as Prince Siegfried and Gary Avis as Von Rothbart, for example, both of whom have high levels of stage presence and all the lithe strength their roles require. The dance of the little cygnets is neat and appealing and the set pieces in Act 3 are a joy – especially the Neapolitan dance for which they use Frederick Ashton’s choreography. And the big “numbers” when many are on stage, especially the corps de ballet swan sequences look terrific because they’re angled and grouped so imaginatively. As a piece of theatre it’s also highly emotional and pretty moving.

The essence of good ballet is, of course, interpreting the music in a way which drives the story forward and doing so holistically. The potentially disparate elements have to be tightly integrated. This one ticks all the boxes.

I first encountered La Traviata when I was about nine. My father, who wasn’t actually a great classical music man, saw it at Royal Opera House with my mother and fell in love with all those fabulous Verdi melodies. So he bought “new fangled” LPs of La Traviata to play on his recently acquired three speed record player. For a long time the house resounded to Verdi’s rich and lovely tunes – many of them in lilting triple time – and I soaked them up like blotting paper. A lifetime later, of course, I’ve learned to appreciate this take on Dumas’s La Dame aux Camelias, in turn based on a true story about hedonism, passion and illness, rather more thoughtfully.

In Opera Holland Park’s new production Lauren Fagan gives a sensitive, intelligent account of Violetta. She took a little while to warm up on press night (nerves?) but once she got there it was a magnificent performance: passionate, convincing and thrilling with some stupendous top notes. Her Alfredo, Matteo Desole, an impressive tenor likewise rapidly got better after a lacklustre start. By the time they reach the deathbed scene in Act 4 their rendering of that supremely simple duet over pizzicato strings was beautiful.

There is strong support from bass Stephen Gadd and from  Laura Woods as Flora. The latter has a glorious wine dark voice, effectively an old fashioned contralto, which is a striking contrast to Fagan’s soaring soprano.

Sterling work from the orchestra under Matthew Kofi Waldren’s baton underpins the whole. This music is full of colour and Waldren allows us to see and hear it all – assisted by the clear acoustic in this venue which places the orchestra on the level in front of the stage. The work from the brass during the deathbed scene is especially noteworthy. It’s surprising how well the sound works here when you consider that the auditorium is open to the elements at the sides and you can hear the odd peacock, goose, aircraft or park reveller.

Director Rodula Gaitanou makes interesting dramatic use of a large chorus and ensures that the story telling is clear. I like Cordelia Chisholm’s ingenious set too. Built on a huge saucepan shaped quasi joist angled across the stage it offers an adaptable intimate space beneath the “pan” and more public area for parties and so on along the length of the “handle.”

It is altogether an enjoyable production which does the piece real justice. My father died in 1997. He would have been 96 this month. I think he would have approved.

 

What a strange piece Cosi fan tutte is. In a way it covers the same ground as A Midsummer Night’s Dream – sexual licence and the temporary (?) hots for the wrong person. Yet the ambiguity of the message makes it seem very different. It’s almost tragic rather than comic. Oliver Platt’s directorial emphases in this enjoyable production, for example, left me feeling deeply sorry for the duped women and I don’t always.

 

Despina, the knowing maid who assists in the duping, is undoubtedly the best female role and petite Sarah Tynan made a fine job of it – hitting all those soaring high notes with aplomb and adding lustrous warmth to numbers such as the glorious sextet which ends the first half. She’s also very funny disguised as both the doctor and the notary.

Peter Coleman-Wright’s Alfonso has plenty of scheming gravitas as he sets up his two friends to find their fiancées unfaithful – and his 6/8 patter song as he backs out of the door with Despina is pure Mozartian fun. Then the four young lovers: Eleanor Dennis, Kitty Whately, Nicholas Lester and Nick Pritchard all sing well both together and in groups with Dennis’s second half aria being a particular high spot. The farewell quintet before Lester and Pritchard’s characters pretend to go off to war is another gem delivered with tender warmth here.

Opera Holland Park’s playing space is almost traverse theatre and it’s vast so most designers find ways of confining it to a smaller area and Alyson Cummins is no exception. Her main, rather ingenious set is based on a huge hinged, five facet flat positioned centre stage, which represents walls with doors and windows. It’s decorated with pastel wall swags in relief which looks strikingly pretty.

Her costumes are good too – firmly in period with the men in gorgeously colourful velvet breeches and elaborate 18th century beehive wigs which make them look ridiculous even before they disguise themselves as lustful Albanians. It’s a pity that Kitty Whately’s dress is quite so frumpy but it’s a small point. She is so convincing as Dorabella that I soon stopped noticing it.

In many ways the real star of this show is Dane Lam who works musical miracles in the pit. A highly charismatic, left-handed, word-mouthing conductor, he ensures that not a nuance in the music is missed. We hear every bassoon and clarinet solo with clarity, for example. And I liked the work of both timpanist, Scott Bywater using hard sticks and of Stuart Wild who plays the harpsichord continuo with delightful responsiveness. The latter makes the recit passages sound as it they really are simply conversations.

This is a blog in praise of pit bands – all those hardworking talented musicians who lurk mostly out of sight in orchestra pits or are hidden away behind a curtain somewhere upstage. They make musical theatre work in all its forms, including opera and ballet. Without their excellent contribution there wouldn’t be a show.

Yet, they get very little credit compared with singers and dancers on stage. Their names are listed in the programme and the cast may wave an applause-directing arm towards the band at the end of the show but it’s a rather formulaic gesture. So is the Musical Director or conductor getting them to take a bow at the beginning of the second half.

These people work very hard indeed. They have practised for decades to reach the standard they need to be at in order to be able to freelance. Rates of pay are low and pits are hot, uncomfortable, cramped places to work in. And yet the band plays on expertly… and yes, that’s another thing. Some players will be working almost continually, depending on the score they’re playing, with barely a bar’s rest all evening. No singer, dancer or actor ever has to do that in musical theatre. There are always little breaks.

Last week I saw Working at Royal Academy of Music and Trinity Laban’s Betty Blue Eyes at Stratford Circus. Both were accompanied  by outstandingly good bands of freelance instrumentalists which was what drove the show in both cases. No musical instrument is easy to learn and play. We should value these accomplished people far more than we do.

So what can we do to change attitudes? For a start we can encourage the children we take to the theatre to be aware of and take an interest in the band, I was really pleased to see teachers in the front stalls at Royal Opera House pointing things out in the pit to their pupils while we were all waiting for Swan Lake to start at the recent schools matinee I attended.

Second, how about more articles about bands, orchestras and players in programmes? And we usually get a mini biog for each actor and creative why not also for the musicians in the pit?

Third, I think anyone who really cares about musical theatre should stay and listen to the play-off at the end of the show. Then give those musicians – who finish their evening’s work ten minutes later than their colleagues in the cast – a resounding round of applause of their own.