Elf Lyons is a name I’ve heard around for a long time. All good things, I promise. And is a performer I’ve wanted to see for a long time. So it’s safe to say, I went into this completely blind but very curious.
Lyons welcomes each person at the door which is lovely and unexpected; she is endearing and lovely and already in her clown make up. To do this for each person of this most likely sold out crowd is something in itself.
What comes to pass is every level of absurd, ridiculous, hilarious, dark humoured and insane. And I loved every second. The couple next to me, American tourists, asked if I had seen her before and when I said I hadn’t, they told me they had seen this show as a work in progress and that it would “change my life”. God, weren’t they right.
Lyons takes us through a whistle stop tour of horses, what they did and do for humans, their mythical stories, but retells these in her own way. Pegasus gets new shoes but he’s also going through puberty and so this, while physicality made to look horse-like, comes across in the typical teenage angst. Made up characters boarder stereotypes slightly but again, the way that Lyons embodies them each, physically, vocally, facially is all very different, and entirely her own.
Each story is like a little sketch and each is full of dark, dark humour. And she doesn’t go for the obvious; her tales are her own and absolute comedy genius. To be honest, without all these clever and well formulated stories and characters, Lyons just trotting around for an hour could have kept me entertained alone.
Elf Lyons Horses is unique but comedy perfection and not short of a genius show.
Throw together some Queer theatre, clowning, deep therapy, the X Factor and you have Plewds.
Plewds travels through the story of a Queer person as they try to get over a break up, but it’s more than that – it’s about identity, Queer stories and injustices of this.
Katherine Payne starts and ends the show unconventionally, they are very meta throughout, and admit this with not knowing how to start or end the show. The hardest parts, but certainly not the hardest they have experienced. We are taken through high levels of clowning and comedy and then thrown quickly and deeply into reality and despair. This sets us up each time for a roller coaster of emotion and makes the break down of their story even more poignant towards the end.
The characters they create are well constructed, if not clowned versions of stereotypes, helping to deliver the stories but make political and social commentary, A male detective who believes a lesbian interaction is an example of them as “just friends”, continuing to showcase the misconceived ideals through history.
There is of course audience participation (this is fringe) and these elements are just as funny as the pre-planned production. It adds a fantastic layer to the production and the audiences really getting into their tasks brought comedy and a comfortable break in the forth wall.
Plewds has a important message of identity of Queer people and Queer relationships and can resonate with many. But at the same time, it is a lot of fun and full of clown-fuelled comedy.
We knew, while we were in it, that shows of the future would likely contain elements of the pandemic. I dreaded this, thinking it would likely be the same thing over and over. But boy was I wrong.
Stuffed is a production about food banks – not food. Food Bank workers go through a daily cycle, while verbatim voice overs fill the scene. Using this, they take on different characters and drive the story forward by clowning scenes that are inspired by what is said. Everything gets worse and more chaotic until a crescendo of mess. But there is some light at the end of the tunnel.
We are thrown instantly into the production, with drum and bass music, high energy physical theatre and essentially being shouted at but with an important message: this is nothing new, nothing we haven’t heard before. And yet, this disclaimer still doesn’t prepare us for what’s to come.
There are levels of highs and lows in energy and performance, and this keeps us on the edge of our seat. Dark humour fills each scene, from a visceral scene of a person with guts coming out of them but acting as if it is all okay, to a fight over a crumb, the performers acting with elements of pigeon-like physicality. But with this, a more serious darkness comes and this does well to lull us before driving home the gut punch.
Political commentary on the state of politicians, the police and other elements mix between raw real speech to a clowned and hammed up interpretation: when the man with his guts hanging out is met by the police, they firstly ignore him, see we are watching and then embark on futile attempts to soothe to appease the public. Hilarious but extremely to the point and almost not surprising.
The crescendo is a break down of society, government, life and this is represented in an inferno, a building collapse. What is interesting is the performers already have signs on their costume and make up to suggest this isn’t the first time. It becomes raw and painful and delivers yet another gut punch. It is so powerful.
Stuffed is a must see play. Even if you think food banks have nothing to do with you, they have everything to do with everyone. This production has the perfect levels of comedy to then really smack you in the face with reality and it brings real emotion to you. It’s fun, but painful and so very important.
Rarely have I been in a situation when a review is hard to write because it is such perfection.
I very much booked this on a whim; I saw plenty talking about this, from fringe contemporaries to general public and as a cabaret, burlesque obsessive and millenial who grew up with and watches Shrek on repeat for comfort, I also couldn’t resist.
Most burlesque shows run for a couple of hours, with interval and presenters. But at Fringe, this isn’t an option and actually, the consistant pace the show is forced into just helps with keeping the laughter coming. Not that there is a problem with that in the first place.
As the name suggests, this burlesque show is a satirical take, with drag, burlesque, rude jokes and phenominal singing of Shrek, condensed to one hour with highlight triggers. From pop culture references or if you have just seen Shrek an ungodly amount of time, you’re already speaking the words along with the audio; the surprises and their take on them are all the more funny with extensive knowledge and they have chosen something so brilliant to be creative and get the audience going.
Transitions are smooth and we are thrown in from the start. Innuendo is writhe and the little details to create jokes are well planned and thought out. And the actual skill of the performers is a gold star – they are professional, having fun and extremley talented. I have probably never been to a show when, the next act comes on and i’m laughing at the sheer impressiveness of their choice and conduct or saying “No F***ing way!”. I was entirely engaged and so was every audience member, by the sounds of the cheers, the singing along, the laughter and clapping. It’s a wonder the Assembly Main Hall is still in tact.
Swamplesque is everything I wanted it to be and more. Not a foot wrong, so extremely clever in execution, creation and thought, they were meticulous in their choices and artistic direction and I had THE BEST time. Now to go away and question all my thoughts and feelings…
The WNO’s production of Death in Venice by Benjamin Britten is a symphony in black and white with minimal staging, effective choreography, and powerful singing. It’s a beautiful and haunting painting that conveys the internal anguish of the protagonist at the core of Britten’s extraordinary music.
Death in Venice is based on the novella by Thomas Mann, where Gustav von Aschenbach is a famous author who travels to Venice to find inspiration. There, he develops an attraction for an adolescent boy, Tadzio. Disciplined and ascetic in character, Aschenbach is torn between his sensual desire and his detached reason. As his attraction becomes an obsession, Venice is taken over by cholera. His passion makes leaving impossible. A glance from Tadzio makes Aschenbach rise from his chair only to collapse and die.
Aschenbach’s travel to Venice is as internal as it is physical. The initial confusion of the mind that makes him unable to write is lifted at the sight of Tadzio, whom Aschenbach sees as the embodiment of ancient Greek beauty. Yet, the aesthetic appreciation quickly plunges Aschenbach into an internal conflict between his rational mind and his passion for the boy.
Mark le Brocq as Gustav von Aschenbach. Photo credit Johan Persson.
Olivia Fuchs, who directs this production, weaves together the different elements of music, video, acrobatics, costumes, and song with great efficacy. A black and white video is projected onto the background. It alternates depictions of the sea, at times choppy and at times smooth, Venice almost as a shadow, and Tadzio up close. The most intense moment is when Aschenbach, played by a wonderful Mark Le Brocq, is alone and the scene has nothing but a picture of Tadzio. Throughout the opera, Le Brocq excels in intensity and harrowing beauty.
Alexander Chance as The Voice of Apollo, Mark le Brocq as Gustav von Aschenbach, and Roderick Williams as The Voice of Dionysus. Photo credit Johan Persson.
Aschenbach’s internal anguish mirrors the Nietzschean theme of the conflict between Apollo, god of reason, and Dionysus, god of passion. The battle between Apollo and Dionysus unfolds musically in the contrast between the countertenor voice of Alexander Chance as Apollo and the deep baritone voice of Roderick Williams as Dionusus. This is heightened by the juxtaposition of Apollo, dressed in a golden suit, and Dionysus, in a red suit, against the black and white background of the chorus, dressed in white when playing the hotel guests, and in black as Venetians.
Baritone Roderick Williams and countertenor Alexander Chance are equally enthralling. Tadzio has no voice; rather he embodies beauty through movement to a percussion music which Britten developed drawing on Balinese gamelan. The choice of sensual acrobatics performed beautifully by Anthony César of NoFit State Circus, directed by Firenza Guidi, conveys powerfully the Greek idea of beauty. The homoerotic acrobatic duel between Tadzio and another boy, performed by Riccardo Frederico Saggese, is allusive yet restrained. The result is mesmerising.
On a minor note, the production could have made better use of light design to emphasise Aschenbach’s internal turmoil. Overall, it is one of the best productions the WNO has given us.
Antony César as Tadzio, Riccardo Frederico Saggese as Jaschiu, and the cast of Death in Venice. Photo credit Johann Persson.
I wanted to see more of this stalwart of the circus world. I’m amazed by the number of people who turn up to see them. Now, even with Alegría one of Cirque du Soleil’s older shows has been revised and dubbed ‘In a New Light’.
Whilst I remained impressed by the international effort from a range of the circus spectrum, the novelty can wear off quite quickly. The clowns were just that little too childish, the only thing for the adults was a very suggestive cleaning of a gun motif which went on for years. There is universal humor, though the British like things a bit more angular. Flame eaters wowed with their circular fury. Ariel acts dazzled with grace and spirit. The singers belt out the same unrelenting refrain of ALEGRÍA just a little too much, though other songs are sweet and loving. Even the clowns made fun of this when the title song came up on their radio during a clean up of paper snow spread across the promenade and stalls.
Director Franco Dragone, with creative director Gilles Ste-Croix have created a show which would have held more weight back in its day. The costumes by Dominique Lemieux recall the golden era of fashion not quite circus eras but Art-Deco, Gothic and more. Composer René Dupéré wrote an award winning plush score not afraid to get really soupy or even rocky heavy. I realised that the acts are very similar from other shows, I guess it’s just the trappings which change. The athletic prowess ever wants…it’s the pacing which struggles. A hock story about a crystal king is very slight and the clowns play a role in this, with little of so called plot development.
Most will find lots to love in Alegría: In A New Light. I think i’ll take a break for a while from the all consuming circus spectacle.
Alegría: In A New Light runs at the Royal Albert Hall till 3rd March, then on tour in Spain.
Who would have thought that if you combined pigeons and circus, you’d have a brilliant time?
Lucky Pigeons is Brainfools Ed Fringe debut, and what a debut it is. This is a highly interactive, family friendly show. Before any action even takes place, our main “human” character is out in the audience, introducing herself to each member of the audience, interacting with the children and ensuring that they are comfortable with the next hour.
A boy called Oscar becomes an unbeknownst star when he is called upon regularly to come straight onto the stage and help. The grin on this boy’s face is infectious and his excitement to take part is electric. Lucky Pigeons has really provided an opportunity to make a core memory for this kid.
Our main character loses her job and becomes lost on a street where she meets a group of pigeons who magically become human size and teach her the ways of the pigeon life which is… circus. There’s a sense of learning from them and improving of her mood from these simple yet talented figures. Their costumes border human with suit-like outfits but bright feathers and colourful face paint, pigeon style hats and movement like a bird. It is engaging, and fun, cute and adorable.
The tricks are of course impressive, acrobatics from the built staging in front of us, tricks with no support at all and team balancing acts. There are the occasional mistake but these are picked up quickly and moved on with little notice. There is silly comedy and slapstick, which, from the sounds of the children, tickles them and therefore achieves what it sets out to do.
Lucky Pigeons is engaging, fun, comical and ticks all the boxes for a family friendly show. It may be catered for this demographic, but anyone can find it enjoyable and hugely endearing.
There is something very powerful about theatre being built around you. Even more so when it’s circus, around, in front and above your head.
Walking into the space, we are faced with only a lonely deflated tent, that we are asked to stand around and watch as it comes alive. We start from the outside until we are welcomed in and under the tent. In front of us, the tent grows and grows and is built before us. There’s a sense of consent – that we are only allowed into this magical world when we are invited.
This reminds me a lot of No Fit State, Bianco, where the staging is ever changing and we see the build before us. However, with Brave Space, we are brought in close to one another, in an intimate and close encounter – the space is safe, the space is brave.
My only criticism with this is that we are such a large audience, that this becomes slightly uncomfortable, with the pressure of the tent on your head if you’re at the back. When we are asked to lie down and watch acrobatics above us, again, it feels compact, little awkward and some couldn’t quite find the space to do this so miss out on the impact. If you’re lucky enough to lie down, it’s magical and a new and relaxed perspective.
The actual circus tricks are of course brilliant and awe-inspiring. There’s the occasional mistake but this is picked up quickly and effortlessly, with very little impact on the smooth transitions.
Brave Space is a tranquil and intimate circus show, bringing us together and creating a new world, built before our eyes.
In a small, circular lecture theatre, we are brought an avant-garde expression of anxiety through the forms of dance, circus, music and .. oh a Llama.
From an Australian duo, Oat Milk & Honey quite effectively use their platform to share how anxiety feels, not only for the person experiencing it but also the impact on others.
There is no narration or vocals bar the occasional breath of the moving performer and pre-recorded voice overs but the silence is filled with beautiful, original compositions which occasionally go off-piste to express the interruption anxiety can create.
It feels relatively slow paced and it would have been interesting if there had been a change of pace. There was a little of this, interrupting the seriousness with an element of comedy when a performer comes in dressed as a Llama, reflecting the fact of serotonin created from watching Llama’s run which we hear at the beginning in a voice over.
There’s no doubt that both of these performers have great talent in their own right; a talented composer and musician and a very flexible and powerful dancer, circus performer. And each part of this performance is really interesting to watch but continues at the same pace which loses attention.
Oat Milk & Honey is transcendental and soothing, with a poke of humour but needed some different speed levels to keep the intrigue.
Perhaps the name to be most associated with the art of circus, Cirque du Soleil needs little introduction. With their meteoric rise in world-wide tours they have become an industry of their own making. Truly something to aspire to.
First seen back in 2014, Kurious – Cabinet of Curiosities is a steam-punk, fever dream showing of many eye-bulging acts. There are way too many names to mention (from 22 different countries) but I was staggered by the energy, the athleticism and the bravado that all offered. I honestly wouldn’t have minded a bit more of a narrative approach, something to be hooked by between screens changes and the like. Through this approachable universality of the whole thing is a crowd pleasing decision often through broad humour, metallic spectacle and outrageous feats. This is also the most props they have ever used for any of their shows: 426 in total.
Photo Credit: Andy Paradise
Michel Laprise as writer and director has tapped into a goldmine of ideas here, the unrelenting flux of circus testament to the evening. Some personal favourite acts were Chih-Min Tuan, his intimate and dazzling Yo-Yo skills, something I never expected to see on a show of this scale. The hand puppet work of Theatre of Hands was just wonderful and clever, one of many delights. From Ukraine, Andrii Bondarenko left people flabbergasted with his Upside Down World something which just needs to be seen to be believed. Contortionists astride a giant mechanical hand, shock with their nimbleness and fluidity. Aerial and net play also were delightful with nods to The Creature from the Black Lagoon and other winks. Off note was the singer Sophie Guay, with a gramophone horn in her hair who added an extra depth to the acts and kept up a fine rollicking swing. The band were also a sensation, the celli being visible from the clockwork backstage.
The amazing set and costumes are of the finest quality as well, evoking the surreal, French Canadian vibe of the whole show. Mr Microcosmos played by Mathieu Hubener took on 20 pounds of metal costumes, a protruding belly where Mademoiselle Lili lived. Tackled by Rima Hadchiti, an evocation of circus of the past is here as her inclusion as a dwarf is a well handled and welcoming force and she often left us smiling. The Tomanobv Brothers appeared at first to be conjoined twins but this was a lie, something which leaves a bit of a bad taste today. Though their aerial straps act had us reeling.
Framing the whole event was Cherecher played by Antonio Moreno, a mad scientist of sorts, lost between dreams and the real world, often floating around in the air. Facundo Giminez had his Invisible Circus (an idea which could have gone either way were it not for the squibs and strings) and a odd scene when he dragged a poor lady on stage and began to throw up a mock hairball as a cat he took the persona of.
I’d recommend for the spectacle, though those seeking more meaty stories might need to look else where.
Creating opportunities for a diverse range of people to experience and respond to sport, arts, culture and live events. / Lleisiau amrywiol o Gymru yn ymateb i'r celfyddydau a digwyddiadau byw
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