Category Archives: Music

Brief Encounter – February 2008

8/10

By Noel Coward, adapted by Emma Rice

Directed by Emma Rice

Company: Kneehigh

Venue: The Cinema, Haymarket

Date: Wednesday 13th February 2008

This was definitely the best combination of cinema and theatre I’ve ever seen. The way the two media were blended together created a tremendous experience, and the seats were a lot comfier too. And there were cucumber sandwiches in the intermission!

The story of Brief Encounter is comingled with several Noel Coward songs and poems, performed by the staff at the railway station, a talented bunch who can turn their hands to most things. As well as sporting a magnificent rear end and selling delicious looking cakes, the chief tea lady Tamzin Griffin plays the cello and sings. Her helper, Amanda Lawrence, also sings and dances, and there are contributions by the others as well.

First, the set. The entire width of the stage was used, with plush curtains coming across to screen off the sides occasionally. At other times we could see the scaffolding on each side, with the stairs leading up to the gantry at the back. There was an oven door set into the back wall, the tea shop counter on the left, and some tables and chairs to the right. The back wall was used as a screen, while another screen, made of strips, came down near the front on several occasions, and allowed characters to slip on and off screen – very effective. It was mainly used to show Laura rejoining her husband. The first time, she was obviously reluctant to leave her lover, but later, there was a sense of finality, as she chooses her husband over Alec. When needed, the same chairs and lamp were brought on for a scene with her husband on the stage. Their children were large puppet dolls.

The performance started with the ushers and usherettes lining up on each side of the stage, and serenading us with some lovely harmonies. Then the two lovebirds, who were sitting in the middle of the front row, began having an argument. She got up and walked off, and from there we got all sorts of entertainment, some on stage, some in the auditorium, some filmed, some song and dance. But they kept the focus and the momentum going brilliantly throughout.

They made a lot more of the minor characters, but eventually the love story gets underway, and we’re treated to a couple of outstanding performances by Naomi Frederick and Tristan Sturrock as the two lovers. They give us all the necessary emotional restraint and upper class accents, while at the same time making the passion underneath it all believable. This passion is often represented by having a film of waves crashing on the shore projected on the screen at the back, and playing some sweeping classical music as the characters swoon briefly in their chairs in the tea room. On one occasion this segues nicely into a scene with Laura’s husband, where he asks her to turn the music down.

The interval was an intermission, and there were some lovely adverts shown, all done in the style of the day, and finishing with the cheesy grins which are held for a second or two longer than is natural. Then the cucumber sandwiches arrived, and we both had one – lovely.

In the second half, we get the scene where the lovers’ final parting is ruined by a friend of Laura arriving and taking over the conversation. She’s played here by Amanda Lawrence, who also plays Beryl in the tea-room. She’s wearing an outrageously long feather on her hat – nearly pokes Alec’s eye out – and she has a cheeky wee dog that steals the show. It’s another puppet, or perhaps a mop, but with a massive personality. After the curtain calls, the final piece of music accompanying our exit is Joe Jackson’s Fools in Love – very appropriate.

This is Kneehigh as I like them best – imaginative, inventive, and telling a story well, despite all the apparent distractions. We left the theatre, sorry cinema, or was it a theatre…? Anyway, we left feeling very happy, especially as there’d been a few sniffles to accompany the many laughs.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Rainer Hersch’s Victor Borge – November 2007

8/10

By: Rainer Hersch

Venue: Mill Studio

Date: Thursday 15th November 2007

I had a weird sense of dissociation early on during this performance. I knew we were watching Rainer Hersch giving us his impression of Victor Borge, but my reactions were as if the original was standing there. I felt all the warmth and affection I’d stored up from childhood, seeing him on TV and knowing the routines. It was a good start, and it got even better.

After an opening section giving us some of Borge’s classic patter – e.g. the joke about the piano being made in China, and an ordinary keyboard having the keys going from left to right (we filled in the rest ourselves) – Rainer told us about his own background (not Jewish, not gay, hair not permed, as he said to his partner Lionel, the hairdresser from Tel Aviv), and explained how he hadn’t heard of Victor Borge while he was growing up. Once he started doing stand up and brought music into it, a process that took a number of years, he found his reviews kept comparing him to some chap called Victor Borge, and in a search for a publicist so successful that he could get his own client’s name into another performer’s reviews, he finally came across a CD of Borge’s work and the rest is history, as they say. He didn’t actually say what his reaction to hearing Borge’s work was, but I assume it was positive, as it eventually led him to research Borge’s life, and even to meet him briefly, backstage, in Denmark – he showed us the picture.

From here he took us on a trip through Borge’s life story, annotated with various snippets of his comedy routines, and including some very moving events, such as Borge’s trip back into Nazi-occupied Denmark to see his dying mother for the last time. He managed the emotional changes very well, and I was crying more often from laughter than from sadness. Hersch’s own talents as a comedian and musician were very clear. He also managed the accent and mannerisms very well, and was ably supported by a good technical crew, who brought in the music and changed the lights perfectly. At the end, he encouraged us to beg for more, then gave us one of his own routines about what they’re actually singing at the opera – definitely called for one of those discrete little pads! This evening lifted our spirits, and reminded us of a great entertainer, as well as making us aware of a new talent.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Woza Albert! – October 2007

6/10

By: Percy Mtwa, Mbongeni Ngema, and Barney Simon

Directed by: Paul Jonathan Savage

Venue: Mill Studio, Guildford

Date: Saturday 27th October 2007

Two black actors sang, danced, spoke and sound-effected their way through this entertaining piece, based on the idea of Jesus Christ coming back and going to South Africa. They had round pink things hanging round their necks (ooh, you are awful), which turned out to be pink noses, so they could “white up” at a moment’s notice and play the non-black characters as well. They started off with a representation of a jazz band – very lively, very good, then we got to meet the characters we’ll be following through the play. Mbongeni, a Zulu with a preference for dancing over work, and Percy, who sings hymns in his sleep and believes Jesus is watching over him and everyone else. They used Jesus’ African name, Morena, throughout the play, but we got who they meant.

These characters, and a host of others, show us how Jesus would be treated if he had returned during South Africa’s apartheid period. Many black folk were seen to be waiting for his return, wanting things like jobs, bricks, and even a lollipop – that one was a young girl. The white folk were smug at first, reckoning his return made them look important, but then they decided his message wasn’t so useful, so first they imprisoned him, and then they tried to bomb him, but only ended up smashing Cape Town to smithereens. They’d forgotten that the Archangels were at His beck and call, so Gabriel kept springing him out of prison, even Robben Island, where they apparently had anti-angel missiles.

Finally, Christ wakes up in a cemetery, where Mbongeni is now working, and to keep his hand in, decides to revive a few corpses. Mbongeni takes him round to all the dead black leaders – Albert Luthuli, Steve Biko, etc – and he wakes them with a call of “Woza Albert” (or whatever). When Jesus spots the grave of Verwoerd, he’s about to woza him as well, but Mbongeni steers him away, understandably.

Apart from the amazing energy and talents of the two actors, what impressed me most was the amount of humour they were getting out of some appalling situations. Even at the time it must have been funny, and I guess it just shows how important it is to keep laughing through even the bleakest times. I didn’t feel uncomfortable about laughing, just surprised. I’ve learned a lot about humour this week (see Parade), and it’s all good.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Blonde Bombshells Of 1943 – March 2007

6/10

By: Alan Plater

Directed by: Mark Babych

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Monday 5th March 2007

I really enjoyed myself tonight. The story was good, the acting very entertaining, and the music was excellent. What more could I ask?

The play covers one day in the life of a teenage girl, who joins a wartime all-girl band, and ends up playing and singing on radio that night. It’s topped and tailed by her granddaughter, played by the same actress, who says it’s the story her grandma told her after she’s sung her grandma’s favourite song for her birthday.

We get to see the motley crew assemble in a cold theatre space with some bomb damage, especially to the drums. The band leader has been in the business for years, and is the usual hard-bitten type with a heart of gold, though it doesn’t often get used. Her regulars are a trumpet player whose husband was taken prisoner by the Japanese, so she’s had no news of him for months, a bass player whose husband went down on the Royal Oak, and an Australian piano player. All were good musicians, but I particularly liked the bass player – very funky.

First to audition is a schoolgirl (granny), who joins in their warm-up number on the clarinet. A gifted musician, she later plays the saxophone first time out with no practice, but that’s theatre for you. The next to audition is a nun, who entertains them with a George Formby number – she can play a number of instruments, and her enthusiasm is very obvious – perhaps explaining why the Mother Superior thinks she would be such a valuable asset to the war effort somewhere other than the convent!

Next there’s the upper class totty – a good looking woman who has that irritating ability to just pick up any old instrument and get a tune out of it, by ear – no reading sheet music for her. Her commanding officer has sent her along, after hearing that the band needed new members – it’s amazing the effect a large group of GIs can have on female morale. At least the girls in the band are never short of nylons!

Finally, the new drummer turns up, only he’s not quite what they were expecting. He’s basically a chancer on the run from his call-up papers, and they reluctantly agree to take him on for one night only, as it’s their big opportunity to show what they can do on the radio. The two existing members have naturally got a down on him, as their men have done the decent thing, so towards the end of the concert, the leader, Betty, announces he’s enlisting, which he does.

We see the auditions, some rehearsals, as the band shelters in the theatre’s basement during an air raid, and then the concert, and it’s a great combination of good fun and moving stories. I really liked the way the ladies stayed in character throughout, especially the over-enthusiastic nun, and the naive schoolgirl, almost wetting herself with excitement at being in the band. Even hitting the triangle almost gave her an orgasm.

There was some interesting historical stuff, too, such as the band not being able to announce where they were playing on air, in case the Germans came and bombed the place. And there was a lot of humour, like the joke about the nun and the penguin, although the real nun wasn’t too happy. We enjoyed it, though.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Nothing Like The Sun – February 2007

2/10

By William Shakespeare

Company: Opera North in collaboration with the RSC

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Saturday 24th February 2007

Sonnets for the first half –

73

That time of year that thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see’st the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west;

Which by and by black night doth take away,

Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the death-bed, whereon it must expire,

Consum’d with that which it was nourished by.

This thou perceives, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.

43

When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,

For all the day they view things unrespected;

But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,

And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.

Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,

How would thy shadow’s form form happy show

To the clear day with thy much clearer light,

When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!

How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made

By looking on thee in the living day,

When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade

Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!

All days are nights to see till I see thee,

And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

130

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;

Coral is far more red, than her lips red:

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damasked, red and white,

But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delight

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound:

I grant I never saw a goddess go,

My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:

And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,

As any she belied with false compare.

40

Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all:

What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?

No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;

All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more.

Then, if for my love, thou my love receivest,

I cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest;

But yet be blam’d, if thou thy self deceives

By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.

I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,

Although thou steal thee all my property:

And yet, love knows it is a greater grief

To bear love’s wrong, than hate’s known injury.

Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,

Kill me with spites yet we must not be foes.

27

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,

The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;

But then begins a journey in my head

To work my mind, when body’s work’s expired:

For then my thoughts – from far where I abide –

Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,

And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,

Looking on darkness which the blind do see:

Save that my soul’s imaginary sight

Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,

Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,

Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.

      Lo! Thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,

      For thee, and for myself, no quiet find.

          These sonnets comprised the first half. Each sonnet’s music was written by a different composer, but because they all had the same instruments to work with, the sound tended to be similar. One piece, sonnet 130, did have additional grating sounds – industrial harsh, I call it. Clanging noises, breaking, grinding, plus some hints of waves and wind, etc. Interestingly enough, this was the funniest of the sonnets when read out by the actor, Richard Dillane, but it took on a more somber tone in the musical version.

Sonnet 27, and to a lesser extent sonnet 43, came across to me as referring to God, rather than a woman (controversial, I know). Sonnet 40 seemed to be about unrequited love. The singers were both good. The woman had a clear, sharp voice, like a sharp, dry white wine. The male singer had a mellow, full voice, like a well-rounded burgundy. They didn’t clash, but I felt they weren’t complementary.

Gavin Friday, one of the composers, spoke the lines for sonnet 40 himself, during the musical version. He took a long time coming on from the back, and used a microphone very close to his mouth, which gave his speech a breathy, almost whispered quality. He walked slowly round the stage, and his exit was timed to fit with the music.

I noticed the male singer was turning his pages very quickly – I wondered if he was going for a speed reading record at first, then I reckoned he may have had the orchestral score, with fewer bars per page.

Both actors were very good. Richard Dillane didn’t refer to his script at all, while Nina Sosanya did have to look at hers, probably had less time to rehearse, although from the post-show it may just be that Richard is very familiar with some sonnets anyway.

These are the sonnets for the second half:

60

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,

So do our minutes hasten to their end;

Each changing place with that which goes before,

In sequent toil all forwards do contend.

Nativity, once in the main of light,

Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown’d,

Crooked eclipses ‘gainst his glory fight,

And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.

Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth

And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow,

Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth,

And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:

And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,

Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

123

No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:

Thy pyramids built up with newest might

To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;

They are but dressings of a former sight.

Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire

What thou dost foist upon us that is old;

And rather make them born to our desire

Than think that we before have heard them told.

Thy registers and thee I both defy,

Not wondering at the present nor the past,

For thy records and what we see doth lie,

Made more or less by thy continual haste.

This I do vow, and this shall ever be;

I will be true, despite thy scythe and thee.

128

How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st,

Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds

With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st

The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,

Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap

To kiss the tender inwards of thy hand,

Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,

At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!

To be so tickl’d, they would change their state

And situation with those dancing chips,

O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,

Making dead wood more blessed than living lips.

Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,

Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.

94

They that have power to hurt and will do none,

That do not do the thing they most do show,

Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,

Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow;

They rightly do inherit heaven’s graces,

And husband nature’s riches from expense;

They are the lords and owners of their faces,

Others but stewards of their excellence.

The summer’s flower is to the summer sweet,

Though to itself it only live and die,

But if that flower with base infection meet,

The basest weed outbraves his dignity:

For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;

Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

102

My love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming;

I love not less, though less the show appear:

That love is merchandiz’d whose rich esteeming

The owner’s tongue doth publish everywhere.

Our love was new, and then but in the spring,

When I was wont to greet it with my lays;

As Philomel in summer’s front doth sing,

And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:

Not that the summer is less pleasant now

Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,

But that wild music burthens every bough,

And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.

Therefore, like her, I sometime hold my tongue,

Because I would not dull you with my song.

146

Two loves I have of comfort and despair,

Which like two spirits do suggest me still:

The better angel is a man right fair,

The worser spirit a woman, colour’d ill.

To win me soon to hell, my female evil

Tempteth my better angel from my side,

And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,

Wooing his purity with her foul pride.

And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend

Suspect I may, but not directly tell;

But being from me, both to each friend,

I guess one angel in another’s hell:

Yet this shall I ne’er know, but live in doubt,

Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

55

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments

Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rime;

But you shall shine more bright in these contents

Than unswept stone, besmear’d with sluttish time.

When wasteful war shall statues overturn,

And broils root out the work of masonry,

Nor Mars his sword nor war’[s quick fire shall burn

The living record of your memory.

‘Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity

Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room

Even in the eyes of all posterity

That wear this world out to the ending doom.

So, till the judgment that yourself arise,

You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes.

64

When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defac’d

The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age;

When sometime lofty towers I see down-raz’d,

And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;

When I have seen the hungry ocean gain

Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,

And the firm soil win of the watery main,

Increasing store with loss, and loss with store;

When I have seen such interchange of state,

Or state itself confounded to decay;

Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate –

That Time will come and take my love away.

This thought is as a death, which cannot choose

But weep to have that which it fears to lose.

The second half comprised a through-composed piece, with the words being both spoken and sung. On a screen at the back a film was shown, of various images which the director felt reflected the sense of the sonnet and would enhance the music.

Personally, I found this half rather dull. Again, the singing was fine, though the music wasn’t really to my taste, and I didn’t get any great sense of the sonnets involved. The lines were first spoken by Gavin Friday, in similar vein to his previous performance, but this time he was sitting in a corner of the stage and without a microphone. His delivery wasn’t clear enough for me to hear the words, so I was left without much of a reference point as far as the music was concerned, and that probably added to my listlessness.

The film seemed pretty boring as well, although there were several interesting images as it went on. I liked the slow-motion film of the struck match, seeing the amazing shapes taken by the new-born flame, and also the patterns of smoke from the recently blown-out candle. The disintegrating table settings, as someone lifted and then pulled the tablecloth, were also quite enjoyable, as was the water splashing from a puddle. All of this was in slow motion. Less appealing were the tulip flowers, the patterns of bare branches against a grey sky (repeated too often, for too long), and I found the close-ups of torn plastic hanging from barbed wire verging on the pretentious. Both Steve and I had a good laugh afterwards at the other image I remember – a swinging light bulb -because it reminded us of the opening credits for Callan, so many years ago.

As I couldn’t make out enough of the words, I couldn’t pass the time reflecting on their meaning, so this part of the evening dragged for me. Fortunately it was fairly short, and the seats were comfortable.

 

Post-show – an RSC lady introduced the post-show by explaining how she had got Deborah Shaw and Dominic Cooke together to do this project. Then we went through some of the other connections that were made in the overall process. Various members of the creative ensemble had worked together before or were working together at the time, and so the overall production came together. They all seemed to be united in finding Shakespeare’s sonnets terrifying to tackle. Some composers they approached couldn’t fit it into their schedules, but everyone involved was on the list.

Gavin (main composer) knew what instruments would be used – this is a touring production, so instruments were limited. No violins, but he had a double bass, cello and two violas. They were originally thinking of doing this in the Swan, but then the Courtyard became an option. Dominic asked what the acoustics would be like (while it was still a car park!) and particularly because of the schedule it became the chosen venue.

It was interesting for the actors, with their approach to the text, then seeing how the composers had tackled the same pieces – one sonnet in particular (130) was very funny when read by the actor, but much more serious as a piece of music. There was a general sense of synergy.

Some of the music was only ready in the last few days. The order of the pieces was serendipitous, as programs were being printed in advance, and it so happened the pieces worked well together, although the order may change in the future. This performance is towards the end of the RSC’s Complete Works season, and Opera North will be doing a season of opera based on Shakespeare later this year, so it’s quite a good crossover.

Some people heard it all clearly, some couldn’t, but Gavin’s approach seemed to be that it was more of a sound experience than a word experience, so tough.

Choice of sonnets – guest composers could choose what they wanted, Gavin focused on sonnets he didn’t know and that weren’t well known, also those that were more philosophical rather than the love poems.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Macbeth – February 2007

8/10

By: William Shakespeare

Directed by: Grzegorz Bral

Company: Teatr Piesn Kozla (Song of the Goat Theatre)

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Friday 23rd February 2007

This is a work in progress, as described in the brochure, so we had no idea what to expect. I felt certain that we would use the term “song of the goat” long after this performance, but I didn’t know what we would be referring to. It was so different, and so varied, that I may not be able to remember all of it, or the correct order, but here goes. Bear in mind this performance was about one hour, thirty-five minutes long – I doubt I’ll get these notes written that fast.

The Swan stage was filled with chairs. Most stood in a ring round the three inner seats. The outer ring faced in, the inner three faced out. [22/1/08 – I’ve only just realised the three inner seats were probably for the witches.] They were all straight, high-backed wooden chairs. With the lights low, the actors filed on from all four corners to take their seats. As they sat there, silently, the lights gradually grew stronger, shafting down from high oblique angles. I wasn’t sure at first if I was really hearing a faint droning sound, but as it became stronger, I realised the actors were toning, or humming, to create a background drone. Very pleasant. Then I caught a few over notes, and soon we had a full-blown vocal orchestra – polyphony, as the director later told us. There was a song, presumably in some middle European language (although this company is Polish, there were references to Russian songs, and other musical traditions in the director’s comments, so not knowing the languages, I don’t know which they were singing in. Possibly Polish, possibly not). Over this, one of the actors spoke some of the lines of the bloody man (honest, guv, that’s what it says in the text), and the rhythms of his speech blended with the singing to add greater musical texture than I’ve experienced before, even for Shakespeare. I was very aware of the unfolding story – how a mighty force was attacking, and Macbeth rose to the challenge.

By the way, we didn’t need surtitles, as all the text was spoken in English, but there was a screen up on the top balcony, showing short descriptions of what the actors were working on, what the section was about. This first section was entitled “Crown”.

The singing/chanting/droning changed from time to time, but that’s probably the least easy part to remember in detail. The next piece of text was also the first time an actor moved from their chair – Lady Macbeth reading her husband’s letter and telling us her point of view. This was interestingly staged. Lady Macbeth moved outside the circle of chairs and prowled round them, giving us an insight into her ruthlessness and ambition. As she came round to the front, she was saying some lines which appear to address her husband directly, although we know he isn’t there, but in fact she was able to speak them to the actor playing Macbeth. She completed the speech and the circle at the same time. I was very aware of her isolation, and that she was actually speaking only to herself, which doesn’t always happen with soliloquies.

Next up (literally) was Macbeth, and “If t’were done when ‘tis done…..”. (Chanting still on the go.) This was very interesting. Again, the rhythm of his speech intertwined with the music, and heightened the sense of his emotional journey. And, unlike Lady Macbeth, who returned to the same place, he ends up sitting in the only other empty chair, a sign of his movement as a character. I also found that the empty chair at the start reminded me of Banquo’s seat at the feast.

Finally, we had a song, and then that section was finished. The actors stood up, and removed the chairs, while the director came on to talk with us. First, he apologised to anyone who had come tonight to see the play Macbeth, as that wasn’t what they would be doing. His troupe’s work is based on a tradition of performance in Poland going back to the 1920s or 30s. Never mind 6 weeks rehearsals, this lot get 2 or 3 years! Basically, it’s ready when it’s ready. There are three strands which they explore and weave together to produce the final piece – music, text, movement. What they were doing tonight was to show us some of the work so far, and explore some facets of the play through sound, movement and text, to get a better understanding of what’s going on, and what works and what doesn’t.

The next section he introduced as “Cauldron”, where they explored the magical, witchcraft aspects. Seven witches sat down, with a bundle of poles, also used later. The chanting and keening portrayed grief at first then changed and became stronger. Not sure what that was about, but I did get a sense of the witches being desperately unhappy women – no families of their own, perhaps?

There’s no particular order now. We saw men waving poles around. They had long strips of cloth ranging from red through pink to white attached to them, so they made a beautiful, swirling pattern. Their movements reminded me of Tai Chi.

Family – another section. The actors stood in a family pose with men standing, women sitting and children at the feet. They sang a more cheerful song, while Macbeth’s fear of Banquo’s future success gnaws at his vitals – God, that man can suffer.

Lady Macbeth was being chased by a witch/demon, who grabs at her from behind. Perhaps they repeated this a few too many times? This leads into the “Come, evil spirits..” routine, and gave me the idea that Lady Macbeth is cracking up from the moment she gets that letter. Letters in Shakespeare are usually bad news – he’s a terrible advert for the Post Office – and this one’s a corker! Her madness is evident in the way she conjures the spirits, and there’s also a sense of her later, obvious madness and sleepwalking as being her own creation through the spell she casts.

Malcolm meeting Macduff, with news from Ross, is played out round and on a set of floor mats, and lines are spoken as the actors are tumbling, turning cartwheels, etc. Their breath control must be amazing. I was still very moved by the news of Lady Macduff and all the little Macduffs’ fate.

They used dissonance – half tones – to show Macbeth’s increasing madness. Well, yes, you would go mad if you had sounds like that crashing through your brain all the time. Eeugh! But brilliantly performed – that kind of dissonance is hard to sing. Steve reckons he knows why Macbeth goes mad – it’s because he’s got migraines.

Macbeth and the dagger scene – three actors surround him, and seem to entrap him, so he can’t get out – guardian devils? They move backwards and forwards in a visceral dance, the devils constantly blocking his escape. Once he’s resolved and steadies, they steady, and then leave, knowing he’s set on his path.

Macbeth and Lady Macbeth inviting Banquo to dinner and checking what he’s doing in the meantime, was followed by Man & Horse – Banquo being killed while out riding. The movements here were also balletic and effective.

Banquet scene – I thought it would be Banquo’s feast, but no, it was the original one with Duncan.

At times, they used only music to create an image. At one point, Lady Macbeth was tying herself up in ribbons attached to a pole.

Everyone was sitting on tables and chairs at the end, then reformed the circle for another bit of “Crown”, standing this time. There was more fighting with poles – Hells Gate – and they end up throwing the poles to Macbeth, who was perched on top of the stack of furniture.

While this description is quite jumbled, the sections made more sense at the time. I was very impressed with the actors’ dedication. Working on this stuff for so long may seen self-indulgent, but it takes a lot of commitment, and the results were immensely powerful, if not always pleasant (e.g. dissonance). I would be keen to see some of their other work, or indeed this production, once it comes to fruition.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Marriage Of Figaro – November 2006

Experience: 6/10

By Beaumarchais, translated/adapted by Ranjit Bolt

Directed by Jatinder Verma

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Monday 20th November 2006

This was a novel experience. The original play by Beaumarchais has been turned into an Indian extravaganza, complete with music. It ends up looking much more like a Brian Rix farce set in India (this is not a criticism). It took a while to get used to the characters dancing on and dancing off, as well as occasional bursts of dancing in the middle, but it was good fun, and the Indian hierarchy seemed to work just as well as the old European one.

The set was relatively simple – two walls at an angle to the front of the stage, with four or five doors. The musician sat to one side, playing a variety of instruments, mostly drums, I think, but the music blended in so well I can pay it the compliment of saying I didn’t notice it too often. There were only five actors, and more parts than that, so some characters were played with masks, allowing any spare actor to represent them. One of the masks seemed to be an ear, another a nose, etc. This mostly worked very well, but in a few scenes, actors had to slip away and leave their mask to be held by another character, so I might have preferred one or two more actors in the cast, just to make it easier on everyone, including the audience.

The plot came thick and fast. In fact, about the only criticism I have of the performances was that some of the dialogue went like the clappers, and what with trying to pick up on the different cultural references, I found it hard to follow at times. But I did get the gist (after all, I have seen the opera), and some of it was hilarious. References like “the rupee’s dropped, at last!”, and “pardon my Hindi”, after a brief bit of swearing, went down very well. It was a shame the audience wasn’t as full as usual, and the sheer volume of plot permutations did get a little trying at times. But this was a good fun production, very well performed, and deserves a lot of success.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me