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Ragtime (Susan Elkin reviews)

Ragtime, performed by National Youth Music Theatre, continues at MCT at Alleyn’s until 27 August 2022.

Star rating: five stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Terrence McNally, Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens’ Ragtime is a magnificent, brave, visceral show and it’s hard to imagine it in better hands than those of the National Youth Music Theatre and director Hannah Chissick.

I shall, unashamedly, start with the band because there’s so much handwringing about music education these days. Of course the concerns are justified but here are 22 accomplished young players, aged from 15 to 23 and from all over the country, tunefully and very competently proving that young musicianship is definitely not dead.

Bringing them all on stage, holding their instruments at the end is a wonderful touch too. It reminds everyone present just how young they are and what a stonkingly good job they’ve done for nearly three hours. David Randall is evidently a fine and inspirational MD.

Ragtime’s complex narrative weaves together three New York stories …

Read the rest of this review at Musical Theatre Review: https://musicaltheatrereview.com/national-youth-music-theatre-ragtime/

Show: Patience

Society: Charles Court Opera

Venue: Wilton’s Music Hall. Graces Alley, London E1 8JB

Credits: G & S

Patience

4 stars

All photos: Bill Knight


We’re in a pub. Three “melancholic” maidens, dressed like Goths drape themselves along the bar and down lots of shots as they bewail their predicament. When down-to-earth Patience (Catriona Hewitson – sumptuous soprano) the barmaid arrives, blonde in her pinny and trainers she makes a colourful contrast. I’m left puzzling over what period this is meant to be set in when the three dragoons arrive in World War II uniforms but it doesn’t matter much – and the joke at the end when Grosvenor (Matthew Siveter – good) re-appears in a hoody with Angela and Saphir being every inch  2022 works brilliantly – “innit”?

Of all Gilbert and Sullivan’s operas, Patience (1881) has worn the least well. The over promoted useless politicians of, say, The MikadoHMS Pinafore and Iolanthe and the like are timeless as are jibes about silly laws and lawyers. The Aesthetic Movement, the target of Patience, is much harder for modern audiences to relate to. It was topical at the time but doesn’t make much sense now. Nonetheless, in this revival, a talented company of nine, under John Savourin’s direction, squeeze it for every ounce of fun and pop in a bit of their own. I enjoyed the “M&S young man” and the Frank Sinatra reference, for instance.

At the performance I saw, director John Savourin was covering illness as Bunthorne and he was terrific. Looking exactly like Oscar Wilde he uses his lanky height to great comic effect and commands the stage for every moment he’s on it as well as singing every word and note with warmth and humour.

Musically, some of the numbers are taken too fast. Yes you want pace but with WSG you need to hear every word and sometimes you couldn’t. For example “If you want a receipt for that popular mystery” would be better a little slower.

The sestet anthem “I hear the soft note of the echoing voice” was sung as well as I’ve ever heard it – a real high spot. It’s a beautiful  set piece and there should be no other distraction. In this instance it is literally a show stopper, given all the weight it richly deserves.

Catrine Kirkman delights as Lady Jane – the weary, unappealing old trout who simply wants a husband. (Gilbert was notoriously unkind to women of a certain age). She has a delicious low slung voice, uses a stick until she stops boozing and starts flirting lasciviously.  Her big solo number “Silvered is the raven hair” (and hers was exactly that with grey breaking though on the parting) is both funny and poignant. Her duet with Bunthorne “So go to him and say to him” is perfectly choregraphed (Merry Holder – with original choreography by Damian Czarnecki). It’s a real pleasure to watch two performers working together with such incisiveness.

Considering that the work was written to include a full female and male four part chorus it astonishes me (yet again – I’ve seen Charles Court in Iolanthe and HMS Pinafore and several other companies with bijoux G&S) that you can bring it off so successfully with just nine strong performers. Yes, you lose the four parts in some of the choruses but in return you get a great deal of musical clarity – a credit to MD David Eaton who accompanies on piano.

However dated Patience might seem I bet Sir Arthur Sullivan and WS Gilbert are spinning in their graves in delight that it’s still being performed and enjoyed over 140 years after its premiere.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/patience-3/

Blippi the Musical continues at the Apollo Theatre, London until 4 September 2022.

Star rating: two stars ★ ★ ✩ ✩ ✩

Originally developed for TV and widely watched via YouTube, Stevin John’s Blippi has become very popular. A musical version for stage is therefore likely to sell well and the producers have just booked another run for Christmas.

Setting out to educate as well as entertain children aged two to seven, it’s effectively Play School for the 21st century – in a very American way.

Stevin played this character himself at first but now the role is played by other actors recruited in the country the show is playing in. The lead and the ensemble of five are, however, anonymous. I hope they are paid well because there are no programmes and no information online so they get no credit for what they do …

Read the rest of this review at Musical Theatre Review: https://musicaltheatrereview.com/blippi-the-musical/

BBC Proms 2022 Prom 46: WDR Symphony Orchestra Cologne, Cristian Macekaru 21st August

Augustin Hadelich.jpgWhat a great joy it is to see overseas orchestras back at the Proms. And the WDR Symphony Orchestra Cologne looked as delighted to be there as the packed Albert Hall audience was to see them – from their formal entry all together at the beginning to their careful turn to acknowledge applause from people sitting in the choir at the end.

We began with a clear, clean account of Mendelssohn’s Hebrides Overture with plenty of light and dark, particularly well pointed trumpet interjections and a splendid clarinet solo. Cristian Macekaru, whose conducting style is expressive without being excessive, made it sound attractively fresh – never easy do to with a piece as familiar as this.

Then came Augustin Hadelich with Dvorak’s violin concerto and the arrival of two more horns. The Dvorak – in the key of A minor which is unusual for a violin concerto – doesn’t get quite as many outings as the big four nineteenth century ones by Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Brahms and Tchaikovsky – so it’s a treat to hear it played live with the affectionate panache that Hadelich brought to it.

We got plenty of tuneful melancholy in the opening movement including mellifluous lyricism as the flute dances round the soloist. In the third movement Hadlich and Macekaru – visibly working intensively together – took us cheerfully into Slavonic dance territory with much high speed playing all delivered with verve and palpable enjoyment on stage as well as off.

Then he played Louisiana Blues Strut by Coleridge-Taylor Perkinson as an encore and it was quite a performance with all those blue-y slides and insouciant double stopping, I’ve heard this played as an encore before and it makes a tasty contrast to a classical or romantic concerto – especially when it’s played as well as this. We got a second encore too because the audience was in raptures: Per una cabeza by Carlos Gardel arranged by Hadelich – another contrast.

We certainly needed the interval to digest all that – and put all those earworms to rest – before Brahms’s third symphony and a shift into F Major. Cue for further expansion of the orchestra with the arrival of three trombones and a contrabassoon. The opening was a bit overegged and unconvincing but it soon settled into a smooth rendering of all that Brahmsian grandiloquence alternating with dance rhythms.

Did I say dance? The Proms are some of the most wide reaching, inclusive concerts in the world and I’m always delighted to see children there. At this concert, in a second tier box, where no one else was sitting except the adults with them were two small children. They danced spontaneously and silently at the back of the box throughout the first movement of the Brahms. They were responding instinctively and in their own way (without disturbing anyone else) and it was a wonderful thing to see. I hope Herr Brahms, who liked fun and games with the Schumann children, was watching from somewhere and approving.

Macekaru took the sparky second movement faster than some conductors but it came off with incisive precision. And by the time we got to the Allegro finale he gave us some unusual dramatic contrasts both in tempi and dynamics. I especially admired the beautifully played dialogues between trumpets and trombones before the gentle, contemplative ending.

I’ve a lot of time too, for a conductor who systematically stands his woodwind principals up in turn to take applause at the end because they certainly earned it.

Finally, in the tradition of visiting orchestras at the Proms, they gave us an encore: Back to Dvorak for his Legend no 10 Op 59, lovingly played and an appropriate end to this attractively accessible concert.

BBC Proms 2022 Prom 42 BBC Scottish SO, Thomas Dausgaard, Jan Lisiecki

Lisiecki.jpgEven for a seasoned critic it’s quite exciting to arrive at a concert venue and see three sets of timps in place: one high on the tiers, another set of shallow “Beethoven” ones behind the double basses and, intriguingly, a third set tucked into the front corner of the arena.

The concert began with one of Sibelius’s quirkier works. It may be known as the seventh symphony but it is effectively a tone poem in disguise. Rising scales in C major are not the most inspiring way to start and end a symphony but Thomas Dausgaard brought out tender wistfulness, a grand largo string sound and some evocative brass motifs across the four fused movements. And we saw and heard the first set of timps on the tiers.

Jan Lisiecki was a last minute substitute for Francesco Piemontesi who had to pull out because of illness. And what a wonderful account he gave of Beethoven’s fourth piano concerto. Still only 27, this young Canadian is a very arresting performer who clearly feels every note of the piece – witness his body language during the orchestral passages. The famous opening statement came with gentle, but very compelling, precision and his andante – the tasty filling in this delicious musical sandwich of contrasts – was played as beautifully as I’ve ever heard it.

It’s also a treat to hear the Beethoven cadenzas played with calm confidence and panache. So often this concerto is marred by eager ego-trippers keenly poking in inappropriate late romanticism or modernism. And of course the performance was enhanced by the use of those dry timps played with hard sticks in the heart of the orchestra.

Lisiecki’s Chopin encore was equally breathtaking. No wonder the Proms audience (hall fuller than recently) was lengthily enraptured.

Carl Nielsen’s fourth symphony, The Inextinguishable, like the Sibelius which it pre-dates by a decade, is played without breaks between movements. It is, however, a much more substantial work. I liked the flute/horn dialogue and the way Dausgaard allowed it the space it needs. Violas were, unusually on the outside of the orchestra where cellos normally sit and that made good sense when we heard the prominence Dausgaard gave to their “angry” fortissimo, down bow passages.

It’s an affirmative piece, played here with plenty of warmth and passion, which makes a strong case for the redemptive power of music. And never more so than in the last few minutes when we got some effective musical theatre.

A second timpanist had been standing at the back of the arena disguised as a Prommer in teeshirt and carrying a rucksack. Seconds before his entry he walked through the crowd and at last we knew what the extra timps were for. The dramatic duet he played, spotlit, with his colleague in the orchestra was magnificent. And the distance between the two players, with Dausgaard pivoting at the halfway point simply added to the drama.

First published  by Lark Reviews  https://www.larkreviews.co.uk/?p=6898

Girl From the North Country continues at Marlowe, Canterbury until 20 August 2022 and then tours until 18 March 2023.

Star rating: three stars ★ ★ ★ ✩ ✩

It’s hard not to be seduced by the quality of the music in this show. Simon Hale’s arrangements of 20 Bob Dylan songs (dating from 1963 to 2012) are sensitive, evocative and beautiful.

Everyone in the cast, several of whom are actor-musicians, sings strikingly well. And the on-stage band, The Howlin’ Winds, catches every wistful nuance. Ruth Elder is an outstanding fiddle player.

And yet… Conor McPherson’s plot is clumsy, tiresomely episodic and shot through with undeveloped subplots. Reliance on a narrator to fill in the gaps is a weak device too.

Nick Laine (Colin Connor) and his wife Elizabeth (Frances McNamee) …

Read the rest of this review at Musical Theatre Review:

https://musicaltheatrereview.com/girl-from-the-north-country-marlowe-theatre-canterbury-and-touring/

Why the Whales Came, performed by the British Youth Music Theatre, was reviewed at The Mack, Mountview, London.

Star rating: four stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ✩

It is very moving to see a company of more than 30 talented, well directed young people in a story as powerful as this one.

British Youth Music Theatre specialises in creating new work and this show was developed at a summer camp and performed in an earlier version in Plymouth last year.

We’re in the Scilly Islands in 1914 where the self sufficient people, who rarely travel, avoid the island they think is cursed. Inevitably two children go there but are protected by the mysterious, reclusive Birdman.

Lonely eccentrics who turn out to be kind …

Read the rest of this review at Musical Theatre Review: https://musicaltheatrereview.com/british-youth-music-theatre-why-the-whales-came/

I learned a huge amount about Islam and about barriers/ semi-permeable membrane between cultures from Osman Yousefzada’s frank and thoughtful memoir whose strap is “a portrait of growing up between different worlds”. In some ways it reminded me of Sathnam Sanghera’s The Boy with the Topknot although, of course, the detail is different.

Osman’s father had Pakistani heritage and came to Britain as an immigrant. His mother’s heritage is Afghan. The family lived, both parents illiterate, in a small house in a Birmingham ghetto later getting better off and buying a bigger house.  His mother was not allowed out unchaperoned and had to wear a burqa – as did his sisters, thereafter not allowed to attend school, as soon as they hit puberty.

As a young boy, Osman was the go-beween who was allowed to sit with the women in one room or the men in the other. Later, when he inched away from the rigidity of his culture and began to integrate he became a go-between in another sense. Like most people who grew up in white, liberal Britain I find this religious, cultural segregation very hard to fathom and I am grateful to Osman, a very thoughtful and accessible writer, for describing it so informatively. I shall never understand it fully but I now know a little more about it than I did.

Today, and in his 40s, Osman is a successful artist and fashion designer whose eponymous label, Osman, was launched in 2008. His first yearnings towards the trade came from watching and helping his talented mother who ran a flourishing tailoring business from the confines of her purdah. Later he studied at School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, and at St Martins.

He is fascinating on the way that life revolved around the mosque, prayers and ablutions. And his account of what some of the Imams routinely said about “infidels”, honour, sin, hellfire and all the rest makes chilling reading. The young Osman, however, accepted most of it unquestioningly, churning with guilt over things like enjoying sweets made with gelatine, being  sexually aroused by images or people and other serious sins. And incidentally, I had no idea, until I read this that orthodox Muslim men are required to shave arm pits and pubic hair in order to stay “clean”. The lists of rules, Osman quotes or refers to in passing are, indeed, fascinating.

At school Osman was bullied. An especially dreadful incident occurred when a group of slightly older boys forced him to the ground and pulled off his trousers. No, it wasn’t rape but given the level of shame and horror it left, it might just as well have been.

How sad too that when one of his sisters eventually “escaped” she didn’t see her father for a very long time because she was estranged, disowned and dishonoured. Happily she reappeared at the very end of the old man’s life and there was a reconciliation of sorts. Osman’s father, incidentally, a carpenter who beat his wife and children a lot, died (dementia) when he was probably between 80 and 90. No one knew his exact age because his birth wasn’t regarded as important enough to record back  “home” where he was born all those decades earlier. And Osman’s community didn’t celebrate birthdays.

In reading this book, published earlier this year,  with a lot of respect along with the horror and surprise –  I feel that I too have, in a very tiny way, straddled the gap between strict Muslims and the other faiths or none they live amongst.