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Prom 17, 2022 (Susan Elkin Reviews)

This was an interestingly paired concert: It’s hard to think of two more contrasting pieces than Jennifer Walshe’s The Site of An Investigation and Brahms’s German Requiem.

Walshe is an Irish composer born in 1974 and her twelve section, 33 minute piece is a mixed-genre hybrid which sits somewhere between a concerto and a play with music. For this London premiere Walshe herself was the soloist – starting dramatically, with hand held mic standing behind the brass, moving to the middle of the percussion and finally coming down stage next to the conductor to the traditional soloist spot.

She speaks to the music and sings: sometimes with silvery lyricism and sometimes with strident forcefulness. She ruminates – with passion, wistfulness and occasionally humour – on the state of the world. So we are led to think about what we’re here for, ocean pollution, the pointless arrogance of the space race and the absurdity of AI-induced “eternal” (sort of) life, among many other things.

The orchestral colour in her composition is striking. The large orchestra gives us, for instance, some lovely discordant trombone glissandi, percussive harp, glorious woodwind detail and a couple of passages in which the whole brass section are required to shout “Break over them like the sea…” at angry fortissimo. There’s never a dull moment for the percussion section either. As well as playing a wide range of relatively conventional instruments they are required to pop bubble wrap, swirl coloured streamers and built a pyramid from plastic storage boxes which they then knock down. I struggle, it has to be said, to see the point of placing a four foot high model of a giraffe on a plinth and then noisily wrapping it in crinkly paper.

And so, after the interval, to the glorious familiarity of Brahms and his very personal take on the concept of a requiem – lots of Lutheran Bible, no Latin and no Christ.

The National Youth Choir of Great Britain makes a strong, energetic sound carefully managed by Ilan Volkov from the podium. It’s good to see so many fine tenors and basses with plenty of diversity and, of course, because this is a youth choir they are well able to stand throughout the work, thus precluding the need for tiresome bobbing up and down.

Bass baritone Shenyang brings terrific warmth to Herr, lehre doch mich and I really liked the pointing up of the fugue at the end of the movement. And soprano Elena Tsallagova sings with great sensitivity in Ihr habt nun Trauigkeit especially in rapport with flute.

But, for me, the best bit of this enjoyable performance was the choral singing. Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen is very well known as a standalone but this time, sung with explemplary tenderess, it sounded as fresh as if one had never heard it before. Similarly there was admirable drive in Denn wir haben and real minor key menace in Denn alles Fleisch especially in the fortissimo recapitulation.

First published by Lark Reviews: https://www.larkreviews.co.uk/?cat=3

Show: Room On The Broom

Society: London (professional shows)

Venue: Lyric Theatre, 29 Shaftesbury Avenue, London W1D 7ES

Credits: By Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler. Presented by Tall Stories

Room on the Broom

3 stars

Academics and literary theorists have sometimes argued that the world has just seven great stories and that all fiction derives from them. Room on the Broom, written as a preschool picture book by Julia Donaldson with illustrations by Axel Scheffler (2001) is a good example of that. It is essentially a quest narrative spliced with seeing off the monster so it feels very safe for a young audience. Everyone, even the very youngest, knows how it has to go. Yes, they will deal with the dragon and yes, the story will end where it started – although the framing device adds little or nothing.

Directed by Olivia Jacobs, this 60-minute, four-actor show uses much of the catchy rhyme from Julia Donaldson’s original book.

A witch (Jessica Manu) and her cat (Hannah Miller) set off on the former’s broomstick to confront a dragon (Jake Waring- great fun). Various other characters played by Waring and Peter Steele, join them en route. Friendship, teamwork and trust are, they gradually realise, vital to the success of the mission.

I admired the way several times, characters changed dramatically into something else on stage and Steele’s perky, tail-wagging puppeted dog is delightful. The distinctive accent work is also commendable: a plummy witch, a northern cat,  American frog and estuary parrot, for example. It’s a witty mix.

On the other hand the songs (by John Fiber and Andy Shaw) are pretty feeble and forgettable until you get to the music hall pastiche sung by Jake Waring as the parrot (nice piano underneath) and the  country and western number  beautifully delivered by Steele with banjo accompaniment.  The music is, of course, pre-recorded so some of the singing isn’t always as together as it might be.

Miller’s cat gives us plenty of feline movement and behaviour. And she finds all the petulance and jealousy the human side of the character needs before gradually settling into happy collaboration.

Manu gives us an engaging witch who commands the stage with her striking looks (red, purple and a really good hat) and fluid movement work.

The show is, however at least 10 minutes too long. Although the young children I saw it with were keen to join in the interactive bits – shouting “whoosh” to launch the broomstick and supplying missing rhymes from the narrative which many of them evidently knew well – there was also a lot of restiveness especially towards the end. A case for dropping the camping bit and starting with the real action perhaps?

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/room-on-the-broom-2/

Photographs by Mark Senior

Of course I’ve read the occasional John Agard poem in anthologies. And one of the schools I taught in invited Grace Nichols for an author visit so I knew they were a couple: a pair of poets as it were. And I read some of her work at that time. But I had never read him seriously until his latest collection Border Zone was sent me recently by one of the magazines I review for. So this book, which I read with a lot of pleasure, is a fairly new arrival on my bookshelves.

Agard grew up in Guyana and arrived in Britain in the 1970s. He is witty, lyrical, insouciant, sometimes a bit rude and good at satire, especially about immigration.

He writes, as you would expect, in a wide range of poetic forms because he’s a fine technician.  Quizzical poems, including one purporting to be written by a potato and another by ice, sit alongside moving tributes to poet Derek Walcott and to Agard’s old English teacher back in Guyana

I giggled my way though Bowdlerising the Bard which begins: “To delete or not to delete/ that is the delicate question /But even the Bard of Avon,/We daresay can be improved on./However timeless his timely lines./I, Thomas Bowdler, and my dear sister,/ will attempt to make them more refined.”

Best of all, though are poetry sequences which begin and end this volume. The book opens with an 86 stanza (seven lines in each) narrative poem about Victor, a Windrush generation man who eventually finds love in Britain. It ends with a 40 sonnet sequence presented as Casanova’s autobiography – another immigrant and the narrator is shamelessly honest so it’s often funny.

Like all poetry Agard’s work warrants reading more than once in order to absorb the finer points and enjoy the neatness and cleverness of his technique. Nonetheless it’s pretty accessible stuff with lots and lots of talking points for, say,  a book group or an A level English class. I’d have a lot of fun sharing this if I were still teaching. How about Three Siblings of the Word which begins: “Meet three siblings of the Word,/the Bronte lasses whose quills ventured/upwards from the blank of a page/yet rooted to a hill top parsonage/among those moors which beckon surrender.” Or from Meeting Old Father Thames: “Welcome to my well-trod guide book towpath /Enjoy my shores, stranger, whoever you be. / But pray, tell me, have you travelled from afar/ just to take that selfie standing here beside me?”

Next week on Susan’s Bookshelves: Lily by Rose Tremain

 

Little Women Mark Adamo Opera Holland Park July 2022

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The UK premiere of Mark Adamo’s 1998 two act opera was an interesting event. It sits well with Opera Holland Park’s policy of mixing the very well known work with the much less familiar within a single season and features some talented singers at various stages of their careers. It was also good to see the composer there, clearly moved by this account of his work.

We’re in the world of Louisa M Alcott’s famous 1868 novel with glances at its sequels as the four March sisters reflect from maturity on the events of their childhood. As with Carmen and Eugene Onegin the set by takis brings some of the action into the space between the audience and the orchestra which conveys a strong sense of immediate intimacy. For this show the main stage is dominated by a series of huge, distressed picture frames which make the small room scenes convincing and contained.

Adamo’s score – of its time, obviously – is short on sustained melody but strong on orchestral colour. During Brooke’s (Harry Thatcher) impassioned courtship of Amy (Elizabeth Karani) for example, with Jo (Charlotte Badham) trying to stop them, we get timp glissandi, snare drum tattoos and glockenspiel. And I like Adamo’s use of tubular bells. Both percussionists (Glynn Matthews and Jeremy Cornes) work very hard in this opera and the results are often arresting. Meanwhile there’s some good work in other sections in a piece which often sets up unusual combinations of instruments all well managed by Sian Edwards on the podium. The sympathetic playing here is testament to the long partnership between Opera Holland Park and City of London Sinfonia.

On stage Kitty Whately finds plenty of vocal warmth in Meg using her wide vocal range and depth to bring the most matronly of the sisters to life. Charlotte Badham delights, using body language and lots of notes to connote Jo’s confusion, intelligence, love for her sisters, anguish and – eventually – the hope of a happy ending for herself. Benson Wilson is terrific too as Friedrich Bhaer. His richly resonant bass voice would have captivated me too, had I been Jo.

There are a few problems with this show, though. There is a quartet of women who sit on stage, busy at various pursuits, almost continuously, occasionally singing. They are oddly dressed – one is a knight, another a Bohemian artist-type and the other two in 1920s-style slinky cocktail frocks. I spent much of the 2 hours and 50 minutes (including interval) of this show trying to puzzle out who exactly these women are and why they’re there.

And, good as the orchestra is, it occasionally overpowers the singers. There were times, for example, when I couldn’t hear Charlotte Badham. And there is a problem with accents – I suppose the cast has been directed to sound American. In fact it is not sustained and the odd word you hear pronounced other than in RP it sounds like Cornwall. Moreover the diction is often fuzzy. One really shouldn’t need surtitles for an opera sung in one’s own language but in this case you certainly do, so I was glad they were there.

There is, however, plenty to admire in Little Women and I hope Mr Adamo was pleased with it despite the flaws.

First published by Lark Reviews: https://www.larkreviews.co.uk/?p=6855

Show: Coram Boy

Society: Tower Theatre Company

Venue: Tower Theatre. 16 Northwold Road, London N16 7HR

Credits: By Jamila Gavin, adapted by Helen Edmundson with original music by Colin Guthrie.

Coram Boy

4 stars

Originally staged at National Theatre, Helen Edmundson’s adaptation of Jamila Gavin’s young adult novel is big-cast theatre on a grand scale. So how do you make it work in a small space without the Olivier Theatre’s revolve and other high tech facilities? With elegance, flair, black curtains, mini rostra and a great deal of creative imagination from director Simona Hughes is the answer. She shows that this fine play can work anywhere if you give it free rein.

And Colin Guthrie’s evocative, clever original music is a magnificent addition with its Handel references and use of dissonance to connote fear, anxiety or anger. Pre-recorded by a small orchestra and effectively “led” by an on-stage professional violinist (Kate Conway) it adds a huge amount of atmosphere and colour.

Coram Boy is a complicated story set in the eighteenth century. It touches variously on slavery, the murder of babies by the sinister “Coram Men”, the significance of Handel in London, sex trafficking of very young girls for prostitution abroad, inheritance, paedophilia, empowerment of women, the redemptive power of music and our old friend “Sua padre” aka an unexpected (although the audience knows) paternity revelation – among many other things.

In a strong, all-age cast, Matt Tylianakis stands out as the dastardly Otis ruthlessly murdering infants (one of whom is, poignantly named Mercy) that he’s paid to deliver to Coram Hospital in the first act, He is then reborn as an utterly evil, smooth-talking, wheeling and dealing nobleman in the second. Paul Graves gives us a warmly sustained performance as the troubled, traumatised, epileptic Meshak and Nia Woodward delights as the initially playful, but then abused, Toby. Frankie Roberts, playing the music-focused reluctant inheritor of a big Gloucestershire estate – and then his son – is feistily boyish. She sings with sweet, intense musicality too so we are persuaded that, yes, Mr Handel would be impressed.

There’s also some pleasing choral singing in this moving show because one of the plot strands has Handel (who was a Coram Hospital donor) rehearsing a performance of Messiah. The whole cast rendering of “Hallelujah” at the end, once justice has been done and love has prevailed is a wipe-your-eyes moment – one of the many high spots in this well paced, sensitive production.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/coram-boy-2/

Show: Crazy For You

Society: Chichester Festival Theatre (professional)

Venue: FESTIVAL THEATRE, Chichester. Oaklands Way, Chichester PO19 6AP

Credits: Music & Lyrics by George Gershwin and Ira Gershwin. Book by Ken Ludwig. Co-conception by Ken Ludwig and Mike Ockrent. Inspired by material by Guy Bolton and John McGowan

Crazy for You

4 stars

Chichester Festival Theatre. Photo: Johan Persson

Energy comes in many forms: physical, imaginative, musical, emotional, theatrical, choreographic. And this exuberant, happy, funny show packs them all. In spades.

The show itself – with its mistaken identity/disguise plot, about as plausible as Twelfth Night or Cosi fan Tutte – was new to me but of course it pounds along with very familiar Gershwin numbers such as Embraceable You and Naughty Baby. It’s actually a 1992 reworking (by Ken Ludwig) of an earlier show with additional Gershwin songs to push the plot. Susan Stroman, who directs this production, has long been a driving force in the show’s ongoing life.

In short, Bobby Child, engaged to a woman he doesn’t love, wants to be a dancer rather than running the family bank. So he escapes to Nevada where, after various plot twists, he helps to restore a derelict theatre and falls in love with the daughter of the owner. And they all lived happily ever after – or something.

Stroman’s choreography is glitteringly original. In I’ve Got Rhythm, the first act finale, for instance, she gives us something new to marvel at every few seconds in a scene which runs for nearly eight minutes. The ensemble groups, and regroups like a musical kaleidoscope. No wonder many press night audience members leapt  excitedly to their feet when it finished although we were only half way through the show.

She knows how to get the best – spectacularly so –  out of her accomplished cast too. Carly Anderson is terrific as Polly – she sings with passion and verve and dances in a whole range of styles. Tom Edden excels too as the Hungarian theatre impressario, Bela Zangler who eventually comes out to Nevada to see what’s going on. He has a lot of fun with this part and is very funny. And there’s a fabulous ensemble with lots of small roles, immaculately performed, in this fine show. There’s a lovely sequence with a double bass for instance – as much part of the choreography as the sound.

And as for Charlie Stemp as Bobby Child well, of course, he’s a show-stealer. His style lying somewhere between Tommy Steele and Fred Astaire spliced with his own magic, he oozes so much charisma and talent that he gets a round of applause simply for his first appearance on stage – like a grand old man of Theatrical Status. And yet he’s only 28 and it’s just six years since his first big show: Half a Sixpence at Chichester. It’s well deserved though. Bobby Child is a huge role. Stemp dances and dances – tap dancing on tables, leaping like Rudolph Nureyev, thowing Anderson and others into the air and much much more. And it’s all done with (apparently) effortless lightness and elegance. He’s a fine actor too bringing out all the humour of the situation when he disguises himself as Bela and confuses Polly. Then there’s his tuneful, nicely articulated singing. The term “star quality” might have been coined for Charlie Stemp.

You’d expect a 16-piece orchestra convened by Andy Barnwell to be strong and it is. Out of sight and under Alan Williams’s musical direction they make sure we hear every note and nuance of the score – and are happily on top of a wide range of styles.

Beowulf Borritt’s set is neatly, imaginatively supportive of the action. It takes us, without fuss, from Bela’s New York Theatre to a depression-hit Nevada town, suggested by tired looking  two storey brown buildings (with doors) which move in and out.

This is a magnificent show. Chichester has a strong track record of producing shows, particularly musicals, which then transfer into the West End. I shall be very surprised if this one doesn’t soon join the list.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/crazy-for-you-4/

  • All Photos: Johan Persson

  • …click to enlarge

Show: Shrek: the Musical

Society: Cambridge Theatre Company

Venue: Great Hall at The Leys, Trumpington Road, Cambridge CB2 7AD

Credits: Music by Jeanine Tesori and book and lyrics by David Lindsay-Abaire. Based on the story and characters from the Oscar® winning DreamWorks Animation film.

Shrek: the Musical

4 stars

In the seven years since it was founded Cambridge Theatre Company has emerged as one of the strongest producers of amateur theatre in the country with lots of opportunities, at all levels, for learning, growth and development. This production of Shrek has a strong tradition to build on and, once again, does CTC great credit.

There’s a lot of Shrek about at the moment partly because the rights are available for amateur performance but also because it’s the perfect show for a non-pro company – lots of small cameo roles and plenty of scope for ensemble both children and adults. The tap dancing number with the rats, danced by children and adroitly choreographed by Gabriel Curteis is, for example, a highlight of this production.

It draws audiences, too, because most people know the film. And it’s subtly topical because at base this is a story about diversity, inclusion and the celebration of otherness: issues most of us think a great deal about these days. You can’t fault David Lindsay-Abaire’s witty book and lyrics too as we watch an initially surly ogre, the titular Shrek, and a large cast of fairytale or popular story characters all acting outrageously in character. Colleen McQuillen, for instance, is raucously present as Pinocchio, Damion Box floats about as the White Rabbit  and Gareth Mullan plays the Big Bad Wolf on stiletto-heeled boots.

Frances Sayer is outstanding as Princess Fiona waiting to be rescued in her tower and hiding an unusual (by fairytale standards) secret.  Scott Riley gets all the right Scots ruefulness as Shrek as he gradually falls in love with her and grows less grumpy, kinder and more willing to make friends – Riley gets the sense of change and wonder absolutely right. Mike Webster fizzes with energy as the talkative, tiresome (but observant) donkey who needs a friend – a fine, all singing all dancing performance. Rodger Lloyd is a joy as the ghastly Lord Farquaad, whom no self-respecting princess could possibly fancy, too. He leers, simpers and flips his false short legs around and has the audience in the palm of his hand.

Graham Brown’s eleven piece band, out of sight because the Great Hall has no orchestra pit, makes a pretty good fist of Jeanine Tesori’s wide ranging score although the balance isn’t always right and it occasionally overpowers the singing. I particularly like way Brown brings out the Grieg and Tchaikovsky quotes and gets lots of vibrance into I’m a Believer at the end.

Of course set, costumes and so on are hired in but I have to give the dragon a mention because, puppeted by three people with rods it comes in over the heads of the cast, eyes flashing and mouth working – great fun.

Well done, CTC. Another triumph. Keep up the variety.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/shrek-the-musical-7/

Northanger Abbey was my O level set text and my introduction to Jane Austen. I was hooked.  I read the other five novels over the next couple of years including Persuasion which was part of the Bishop Otter College English course – much better than anything to do with teacher training which was what I was meant to be there for. Then, 20 years later, I studied Mansfield Park in some depth on my Open University degree course.

Northanger Abbey is different from the others because, as our rather pedestrian O level teacher who kept coyly referring to “Janeites” told us, it’s really a joke against the gothic novels which were very popular with young females at the time. With that in mind, Miss Vincent kept boring the pants off us by reading large chunks of Anne Radcliffe’s The Mysteries of Udolpho (1794), I think, with hindsight she was time-filling because she only had three texts to teach over a two year course. A more enlightened teacher might have spent the first year widening our literary horizons with, say, Keats, George Eliot, Larkin and the Brontes. But I digress.

Catherine Morland is a naïve 17 year old clergyman’s daughter who is taken to Bath for the social life by her flighty friend Isabella’s mother, Mrs Thorpe. Of course it’s all about meeting the right sort of chap in the Pump Rooms and Catherine soon encounters, and is very taken with, one Henry Tilney – definitely Mr Right. Miss Vincent kept telling us how very attractive he is which made us 15 year olds sneer pityingly behind her back.

The plot is complicated – with a lot of flirtation and nastiness along the way. Mrs Thorpe is one of Austen’s spitefully but accurately drawn, dim but dangerous social climbers. Cf Mrs Bennet in Pride and Prejudice and Mrs Norris in Mansfield Park. In time Henry invites Catherine to stay at his family home, Northanger Abbey, where she meets his delightful sister Eleanor who is a much better friend to Catherine than Isabella. Other memorable characters include Isabella’s ghastly brother John and the tyrannical General Tilney who mistakes Catherine for an heiress and sends her away when he realises the truth.

The best bit in the whole novel is Catherine’s first night  at the Abbey. She is very excited to be visiting a place which, obsessed with her favourite reading, she imagines to be full of gothic romance.  In her room is a “mysterious” chest  which surely must contain a vital letter or other document relating to something sinister or macabre? Austen wittily builds the tension up and up until Catherine opens the chest and finds – to her horrified delight –  a piece of paper.  It turns out to be a laundry list.

Of course it all works out in the end. Henry is a better man than his father and …. well, I won’t spoil the ending for you if you’re new to this novel. Suffice it to say that every Austen novel ends with wedding bells.

Although Northanger Abbey has never been as popular as some of the other Austen novels there have inevitably been dramatisations which fail to do it justice. The 1987 BBC version, for instance, starring Katharine Schlesinger as Catherine and Peter Firth as Henry lost all sense of Regency England although Robert Hardy was memorable as General Tilney. Then there was a film in 2007 with Felicity Jones as Catherine and JJ Feild as Henry. Good as Carey Mulligan was as Isabella I didn’t care for it much.

I read Northanger Abbey four or five times when I needed to know every detail for O Level. Returning to it 20 years later I was surprised how well I still knew it. And re-reading it now feels like visiting an old friend. Familiarity, however, does not blur the spiky wit and observation. This is Austen, after all, and I appreciate her more with every passing year.

Next week on Susan’s Bookshelves: Border Zone by John Agard