Posts Tagged ‘World Music’


Well, it was a surreal start to the festival. I turned up at the appointed time at the Mercure Hotel for a ‘show’ by a Belgian company who had wowed last year. There were 4 others. We stood in a row, then a screen rose to reveal five others who proceeded to change places until they each chose one of us to lead away to a cubicle. Here we were asked personal questions and engaged in what can best be described as ‘speed dating’. After 10 or 15 minutes, we were led to a circle of chairs where the five ‘actors’ proceeded to share aspects of these private conversations in what seemed like group therapy. The fact that three of my fellow audience members were known to me (though we didn’t know each other) – a London fringe theatre director (who was so opinionated pre-show that I took an instant dislike to her), the theatre-director-of-the-moment and his literary collaborator – was a bit disconcerting. At the time, my view of Internal was ‘so what?’ but I have to admit that I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. The day continued to amaze with a production of Faust in a vast shed performed by 100 Romanians. This was the main festival like it was in its hey day, putting on things only festivals can. After over an hour of stunning visual spectacle we left our seats and joined Faust in hell where there was fire, ladies copulating with pigs, dead babies being eaten, fireworks and all manner of hellishness. Back in our seats and the story concluded with Faust’s salvation. Thrilling stuff.

SATURDAY was a day of one-person shows that started with Carol Anne Duffy’s poems The World’s Wife about the women behind men of history / mythology / fiction like Eurydice, Mrs Medusa, Queen Kong (!) and Mrs Darwin  (plus a reversal in the Cray Sisters and an infamous women in Myra Hindley). They were performed superbly by Linda Marlowe and were often very funny and always entertaining. Even an unscheduled 30-minute stop for a sick audience member to be taken away by ambulance didn’t put her off (though it raised questions about the lack of first aiders in a 6-space venue!). In Morcambe, Bob Golding gives an extraordinary performance telling Eric’s life story (with Ernie played by a ventriloquist’s dummy). It was nostalgic, funny and at times deeply moving and I adored it. Eccentric Welsh comic storyteller Hugh Hughes’ show 360 wasn’t as good as his previous shows Floating (about the day when Anglesey floated off into the Atlantic!) and the Story of a Rabbit, but he’s still a one-off. The success of each show depends on the audience and ours had a few too many puzzled souls who probably thought they were going to see a stand-up and couldn’t really ‘go with the flow’.

I opted out of the audio play in headphones whilst walking through the Botanic Garden on SUNDAY morning as it was raining; instead I went to a fascinating exhibition – Spain – that combined Spanish masters like Zubaran, Murillo, El Greco and Goya with British artist ‘visitor’ impressions of Spain. There was a stunning homage to Velasquez by Millais, the only David Robert’s non-Middle East paintings I’ve ever seen, a chilling Spanish Civil War painting from Wyndham Lewis and the best El Greco’s ever! At Home With Holly was a great idea that turned out to be a big mistake. A ‘comedienne’ entertaining you in her flat, except she wasn’t at all funny and covered this up with faux eccentricity which was rather embarrassing. If I could have found a way of sneaking out (one audience member feigned illness!) I would have. There were two stunts (I think) involving an audience member texting and a visit from Health & Safely but I’m afraid they didn’t save the day. Sunday ended with a stunning recital by the world’s greatest baritone, Bryn Terfel. In a largely British programme the Schumann songs seemed out of place, but the Vaughan Williams and Finzi songs were wonderful and the closing Celtic section was a populist move that worked well. He also told a couple of great jokes!

MONDAY at noon saw us in the Barony Bar with a G&T watching Charles Bukowski’s bar room tales unfold in Grid Iron’s Barflies. The small cast were terrific, the live piano accompaniment did much to create the right atmosphere and the close proximity (within drink spilling distance!) fully engaged you with the characters. They moved from funny to sad (watching people get drunk can be so depressing) and in the end you felt you had peeped into the souls of these people and experienced a combination of empathy and revulsion. The Creole Choir from Cuba had a shaky start but it didn’t take long before their African rhythms to take you hostage. They tried to tell the story of the journey from Africa to Haiti and on to Cuba and you certainly heard the music acquire Latin rhythms as the show went on. In the end their infectious enthusiasm and charm enveloped you and you left smiling. Tondal’s Vision is a combination of (mostly medieval) polyphonic music put together by a small Croatian group of female singers to tell the tale of the brief period between life and death of the knight Tondal. It sounded beautiful but the monotony wore you down to the point where you couldn’t wait for it to end. What could have been a 20-30 minute gem became an 80-minute sentence.

TUESDAY started with our first proper Traverse play (The Traverse is one of Britain’s best theatres – on a par with the Almeida and Donmar in London), Orphans. The story of a brother and sister orphaned when their parents died in a fire and the effect of this on their lives, it had a dark brooding atmosphere and lots of twists, playwright Dennis Kelly’s trademarks. Beautifully performed and staged, I found it captivating. The Comedian’s Company was set up a few years back to stage plays largely cast from stand-ups. They had hits with Twelve Angry Men, One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest and Killer Joe but this year’s offering, The School for Scandal – a restoration comedy – was poorly received. I think the critics rather missed the point. It was in effect a panto, which took a lot of licence with Sheriden’s play, ad-libbing and over-acting and generally larking about. I thought it was good fun. It was worth the ticket price for a turn by Lionel Blair and black comedian Stephen K Amos in a frock coat and a powdered wig. Comedian Phil Nichol tried something different this year with an alter ego poet / singer in white suit accompanied by a pianist and double bass player. His fans seemed to find this hard to swallow, but despite it’s overly manic pace and delivery I thought it was intriguing, very rude and often very funny. The day ended with an extraordinary light and sound journey called Power Plant through the greenhouses of the Royal Botanic Garden. Some 22 artists each created pieces, from windpipes with flame jets to illuminated lily ponds to bright kaleidoscopic discs with whirring sounds. Gorgeous.

A late start on WEDNESDAY with Al Murray re-creating his alter ego The Pub Landlord’s 1996 Perrier Award winning show. I love his populist Saturday night ITV show and this had all the features of audience engagement, faux xenophobia and pub character parody. It was very funny indeed. This was followed by The Hotel, created by comedian Mark Watson, where a large New Town house has been turned into a hotel with restaurant, wellness centre, cabaret bar, business centre etc. It was bit hit-and-miss; I loved assessing job applicants in the Board Room (well, I would, wouldn’t I) and thought the Wellness Centre, Chill Out Room (with live guru!) and Cabaret Bar (with Ronnie Golden, no less) worked well, but the Processing Centre, TV Lounge and other parts worked less well and I couldn’t get into the restaurant (only after I left did I think no-one might have got into the restaurant and this was part of the joke?). I was convinced Holly from Sunday afternoon was the masseuse (she gave me a funny look) but maybe I’m being paranoid! Monteverdi’s opera Il Ritorno d’Ulisse in Patria was performed by seven singers, seven instrumentalists and five puppeteers (Handspring, the company behind War Horse at the National). As much as I admired it, it didn’t really engage me – though it’s fair to say the uncomfortable seats, heat and noisy neighbour didn’t help  – and didn’t seem to tell the story particularly well. It divided the group – Jeff thought it was the highlight of the festival! The day ended back at the Traverse for a highly original show called Accidental Nostalgia which started as a Neuroscience lecture and went on to become one woman’s journey through her past to find the truth about her father’s death. At first I thought it was going to be one of those pretentious avante garde NYC pieces like the Wooster Group but it actually turned out to be enthralling. It had the most wonderful country-rock score sung and played live by a terrific four-piece band and the most innovative projections and other visuals tricks.

THURSDAY, our last day, started brilliantly back at the Traverse. Midsummer, a play with songs, is a real departure for playwright David Greig – a feelgood romantic comedy. It tells the story of a mad weekend, but what makes it a cut above the rest is clever structure, weaving back and forth and in and out with lots of clever tricks; a real treat. We followed it with a Traverse production for the main festival, The Last Witch, about – guess what? – the last witch burned in Scotland. The first half was really slow, but it picked up in the second. I think the lack of rehearsal and previews has resulted in a play that frankly isn’t ready; shame. We ended with Welsh comedian Rhod Gilbert whose first 20 minutes were brilliant, but the rest of the hour was a bit patchy. He said burning smells behind the stage distracted him, but we couldn’t smell them from the third row!

Well, that’s another year – apart from Art, an above-average festival, with more variety than usual and lots of quirky one-off things, mostly successful. I’m now chilling out on the Isle of Mull off Scotland’s west coast. It’s chilly and cloudy with a lot of showers, but the seafood’s great! Until 2010 (accommodation already booked!)…..

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