Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Sondheim’

Picking up steam now; my first four-show day, though it started with a couple of small exhibitions. At the National Library of Scotland, Enduring Eye featured new prints from the original negatives of the photographer in Shackleton’s 1914 Antarctica expedition, and they are extraordinary. They bring to life this amazing adventure on the other end of the Earth whilst World War One is taking place. At the University of Edinburgh Library, Highlands to Hindustan brings together items from their collection given by people returning from India; a small but fascinating collection of pictures, sculptures, books and even some video and sound footage.

Enterprise was a show I added when it got a Fringe First Award and I’m glad I did. At Assembly Studio Two, it’s a satire on corporate behaviour, featuring four men in suits in various permutations in a series of short scenes which added up to a rather accurate and very funny expose of corporate greed and ruthlessness. Back at the Traverse One, the National Theatre of Scotland’s Adam was the fascinating true story of an Egyptian refugee girl’s journey to Glasgow and to manhood, with Adam telling the story himself, with the help of another actor. The closing scene, where video clips of hundreds of people with similar stories from around the world singing ‘I am Adam’ was deeply moving. The Last Queen of Scotland overcame the handicap of being in one of the fringe’s worst venues – Underbelly, a damp, caverness, airless space without natural light – and proved to be a very original story of a Ugandan Asian woman’s childhood flight from Kampala to Dundee in 1972 when Idi Amin, himself bizarrely obsessed with Scotland, expelled them. The Dundee accent was sometimes impenetrable and the superb actor playing her was young and white, but the true story of her return to her home country and the Kent refugee camp shone through. Only time for a solo pasta today as we were all in different places with busy days, before ending with comedy – Mark Steel at Assembly Hall. Steel’s recent divorce loomed large and my companions thought him bitter, which he was, but I thought he was also bloody funny, with insightful views of what’s happening in our society to go with the personal story. One of my favourite comedians with an excellent, very personal show.

Wednesday started well back at Traverse One with a proper play called The Whip Hand – living room set, five characters, dense plotting, multi-layered – which was a touch melodramatic, but unpredictable, pleasingly inconclusive, covering a lot of personal and geo-political ground. Very satisfying. An unscheduled interlude at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery enabled me to revel in the beauty of the recently renovated main hall once more, to see their latest hanging of an extraordinary collection of contemporary portraits, to catch an interesting exhibition called Looking Good / The Male Gaze, spanning five centuries, and a more depressing one of Graham MacIndoe’s photos of his own addiction in Coming Clean. Across the road at Stand One Mark Watson gave us some work in progress, partly created from audience pre-show input. A touch lazy, a bit rambling, but it’s hard not to like his anarchic charm, an antidote to the slicker comedians. A lazy afternoon with a light lunch, a glass of wine or two and a view of the castle in the fourth floor restaurant at Harvey Nick’s was followed by more comedy, favourite Mark Thomas with his new show at Summerhall. It re-cycles two ideas, with a new spin on Manifesto (more audience pre-show input) and the biographical Bravo Figaro, but his passion and audience engagement is unrivalled, so you do leave thinking you’ve spent 70 mins with an old mate having a bit of a rant. Dinner at http://www.fieldrestaurant.co.uk was a welcome return to their simple seasonal and local food; but I struggle to understand how they survive with twenty-six covers, of which we comprised a fifth! At the international festival’s The Hub, a late night ‘cabaret’ proved a disappointment, though views amongst the group differed, with me the most negative. Meow Meow’s would have been better if she’d dropped the Little Mermaid concept / ‘show’ and delivered her normal edgy burlesque cabaret, rather than a contrived piece which was good when she sang but fell flat on it’s flipper with the embarrassing sequences in-between. It was intensely uncomfortable, physically and intellectually, and I would have walked if you could have done so quietly. The main festival trying to be as cool as the fringe and failing.

The final day was the sort of eclectic one you can probably only get in Edinburgh. It started with my 10th production of an old favourite, Stephen Sondheim’s musical Into the Woods, staged and performed in the Assembly Hall by the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. I very much enjoy my outings to London’s conservatoires and I enjoyed watching future talent here just as much, in an excellent production. Odd to be at a full length fringe show after a week of pieces under 90 minutes, though. At the Fruitmarket Gallery, I rather took to Brazilian Jac Leirner‘s obsessive collection and presentation of all sorts of items – wire, rulers, spirit levels, cigarette papers – part of a very limited presentation of contemporary art this year. Cathy at Pleasance Dome was campaigning theatre, urgent and important as well as being good theatre itself. It was a new play effectively updating Ken Loach’s iconic TV play on it’s 50th anniversary, staged by Cardboard Citizens on their 25th. Like Loach’s recent film I, Daniel Blake, it puts up a mirror to modern society and in particular our approach to housing and benefits and shames us. Down in Leith, Volcano presented a riff on / deconstruction of Chekhov’s The Seagull called Seagulls in an extraordinarily atmospheric disused church. Full of surprises and, surprisingly, laughs, it was captivating if sometimes puzzling, but after processing it I realised it was quite faithful to the original, albeit with only five of the ten main characters – and a lot more entertaining! After a shaky start, seeming under rehearsed with poor sound, The Music of the Incredible String Band at the Playhouse Theatre, weaved it’s magic, bringing waves of nostalgia for 50-year-old music that is a key part of the soundtrack of my life. Eight soloists, including Mike Heron himself,  beaming in wonder, and a surprising but delightful triumvirate of ladies, opera singer Janis Kelly, folkie Karine Polwart and Barbara Dickson(!), were accompanied by seven musicians, including Heron’s daughter, a member of the McColl folk dynasty and Danny Thompson, who played on many of the original recordings. A lovely conclusion to the week.

Perhaps not up to 2015’s vintage year, but a particularly diverse one. Disappointing for art, but great for music, the Traverse on fine form and excellent food. Until 2018………

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Contemporary Music

In yet another senior moment, when I booked for it I’d forgotten that Maria Friedman‘s show at The Pheasantry was a repeat of the one just ten months ago at the same venue, but it hardly mattered. These Sondheim & Bernstein songs can be heard over and over again and you hear something new or the interpretation is subtly different or its just like a glorious encore. The venue is intimate and this time I was in the front and able to appreciate every nuance and every note. From the ‘overture’ – Jason Carr‘s ‘ mash-up’ of Sondheim & Bernstein melodies – it was an absolute delight.

The second ‘cabaret’ of the month paired the same Jason Carr with Janie Dee. The former, usually accompanying others or orchestrating shows, mixed his own songs with vintage musicals fare. He’s no great singer so guests Anna Francolini and Melvin Whitfield proved welcome. He does have bags of charm though and was very engaging with his audience…..as was Janie Dee, who hot-footed it over from Putting It Together for a short but perfectly formed if somewhat unpredictable set in which she invested more than a touch of acting. A very original take on the cabaret form, which I loved.

Classical Music

Flicking through those concert hall brochures, in this case St. John’s Smith Square, a series called Composers in Love took my fancy and Beloved Clara if the first of four I booked. It tells the story of the relationship between Robert Schumann and his wife Clara and the relationship of both of them with Brahms. Actors Harriet Walter and Henry Goodman read a selection of their letters and pianist Lucy Parham played appropriate selections. When I booked it, I had no idea it was going to be such a treat. The music was gorgeous and you learn a lot about these people’s lives. I was enthralled and now can’t wait for the other three.

I don’t know the work of John Tavener very well, but everything I’ve heard I’ve liked. When I saw a ‘celebration weekend’ in the St. John’s brochure, it seemed an ideal opportunity to correct that. Four concerts, twenty-one works spanning 43 years, three UK premieres and one world premiere, five hours of music. Between booking and going he died, so it became a posthumous review of his work. There was extraordinary range, from pieces for solo instruments through string quartets, a brass ensemble and the church organ to orchestral suits and choral works, but mostly choral works. Amongst the highlights were The Hidden Treasure for string quartet, cello work The Protecting Veil, Trisagion for brass quintet and new choral work Miroir des Poemes. This was a very good idea!

Opera

During a 24-hour post-work skive in Paris, I made an impulsive first visit to Opera Bastille for Massenet’s Werther for the only opera of the month. Roberto Alagna didn’t turn up and though his cover did his best he wasn’t really up to it. The rest of the singing was good though, the orchestra under Michel Plasson was excellent and the period production imported from Covent Garden was fine. The building didn’t really impress, though the sight-lines and acoustics were good and in egalitarian France those of us at the back were invited to fill the more expensive seats further forward!

Art

Pop Art Design at the Barbican does what it says on the can – looks at how Pop Art influenced design. It’s an interesting idea and the selection is eclectic. There are Warhol works I’ve never seen before and household furniture and other items that seem ever so familiar. This is the sort of show the Barbican does well.

Paul Klee: Making Visible at Tate Modern is a fabulous exhibition. A huge collection of works showcase extraordinary variety and a sublime use of colour. Seeing it on a Saturday evening was a bonus, as the thinner attendance allows you to savour everything close up and from a distance. When I first entered the Mira Schendel exhibition two floors up, I wondered if it was a continuation of Klee, but it went off the boil very quickly as she became ever more conceptual. In fairness, it picked up towards the end with some nice installations, but there was a lot of rubbish in between.

Dulwich Picture Gallery has a huge hit on their hands with An American in London – Whistler and the Thames. Fifteen minutes to get a ticket, 30 minutes to enter the first room and too many people to fully enjoy it. It pulls all its punches in the first room with extraordinary etchings of Thames scenes done in his 20’s; the rest is fine but just doesn’t match these.

Sculptor Bill Woodrow‘s exhibition at the Royal Academy was a hit & miss but mostly miss affair. Clever but neither beautiful nor funny!

The tiny Ben Uri Gallery hosted a show of the London Group which was a who’s who of 20th century British artists and contained a high count of absolute gems amongst just 49 works. Most museums would die to show a collection like this and this is an unfunded gallery that doesn’t charge admission. Magnificent!

Jake & Dinos Chapman’s Come & See at the new Serpentine Sackler Gallery was a lot of the same old stuff – scenes of carnage in glass cases, defaced 19th century pictures etc. – but there was new work like contraptions for brain damage and self-deprecating films with David Thewlis & Rhys Ifans (not new, but I hadn’t seen them before). It was presided over by 37 life-size Klu Klux figures wearing rainbow socks and smiley badges. An odd combination of the macabre and playful.

My 24-hour Paris skive was an art feast with three exhibitions at the Pinacotheque and another at the Centre Georges Pompidou. La Dynastie Brueghel had paintings from 12 painters spanning 6 generations from the early 16th to late 17th centuries. It focused mostly on the elder and younger Jan’s, there was a shortage of Pieter’s and there were too many flower paintings, but it was well worth the visit. Chu Teh-Chun was new to me but I rather took to his brightly coloured abstract pictures, which were a huge contrast to the etchings in Goya et la Modernite which composed most of the third Pinacotheque show. Le Surrealisme et L’Object at the Centre George Pompidou was a collection spanning most of the 20th century featuring all the usual subjects, beautifully curated by theme. As it was no. 4, I probably didn’t do it justice.

Film

I hadn’t seen the first one, so Anchorman 2 was a bit of a punt, partly selected as 3rd choice because it fitted a location and time slot. Though it’s a tad overlong, and not all of the American humour works here, it does have a lot of laughs and ends with an extraordinary number of celebrity cameos. God fun, though far from life changing!

I’m at a loss to understand what all the fuss is about with American Hustle (10 BAFTA nominations!). I liked the period look, it was sometimes funny, but it was overlong and poorly structured and, well, rather dull. Not a patch on the director’s last film – Silver Linings Playbook.

I’m puzzled by the critical indifference to Mandela: Long Road to Freedom. It compresses so much into almost 2.5 hours and does so extremely well. Idris Elba is stunning. The whole thing is captivating and moving. Go!

You would be forgiven for thinking that The Hunger Games: Catching Fire isn’t actually a new film, the second in the series, but a new version of the first one. It just seemed to be more of the same and I was hugely disappointed.

Twelve Years a Slave is a harrowing, uncompromising and unsentimental story of someone kidnapped onto slavery. It may win a BAFTA, but it won’t win an Oscar because the Americans won’t be able to publicly confront something that is only 150 years ago in their short history. I’d love to be proven wrong, though. Not easy to watch, but a stunning film nonetheless.

I love the Coen brothers films, but Inside Llewyn Davies was a huge disappointment. It just didn’t go anywhere and the journey was rather dull, even if the cinematography and performances were good.

The Wolf of Wall Street ended my film-going month and was the fastest three hours I’ve ever spent in the cinema. Funny and chilling in equal measure, it’s a coruscating expose of the sort of excesses of the financial sector we’ve got used to in recent years and it’s a career defining role for Leonardo DiCaprio.

Read Full Post »