The Euros have kicked off. Dear England is returning to the West End. Is football coming home? They hope so in 1553.
This is the second play I have seen at the Royal Court focusing on historical football fans and their livelihoods around this time. Prior, Gunter featured this similar focus, pulling off into witchcraft and female alienation. The Bounds touches on this slightly, but this play is a bit more than that. It is about divides in place, in status, in religion. Dark but comical, and somehow relatable.
In London, there is currently a focus on regional plays and characters: Nye, based on the Welsh pioneer Nye Bevan; Boys From the Black Stuff, based in 80s Liverpool, and now The Bounds, again, bringing regional writing and theatre, from Newcastle. It feels like a rich time to bring these stories into the city and open up to other stories.
Rowan and Percy, as far as we can tell by their immediate interactions, are old friends. Grown up as some of the working class of the area, their only joy is to take part in this huge football game that spans miles between towns. There’s a modernisation to their attitudes and it is something we relate to, whether football fans or not. And somehow this is also pretty comical – a lively fan, impoverish and of an ancient time, shouting and bursting with excitement of a football game. The rapport between Rowan and Percy is natural, on beat and quick in succession. The back and forth “banter” sets the precedence for the play, and we relax into the setting.
That is until is goes all wrong. A appearance of a stranger changes this; suspicions arise, wariness unfolds and a secrecy is prevalent. This interaction starts off quite comical but soon it gets dark, with visions unnatural and non-nonsensical. When lighting changes and these “visions” appear, we are drowned in a sense of foreboding, an end of the world mystique and soon the laughter is long gone. We are forced to think of our own mortality, of the status of our World and it is an uncomfortable setting, with the actors almost making us teeter on the edge for a surprise that never comes.
The Bounds is a fantastic play, making you relax into a sense of security only to be directly pulled out of it. Combinations of the writing, actors and the stage/set all culminate to make something riveting and (in a good way) uncomfortable.
In their official end of their season, BBC NOW would wrap things up in their trying year, with no St David’s Hall, at Hoddinott Hall. Though they usually have one last flutter in the Hoddinott before the last concert at St David’s (then off to the Proms in London), this smaller scale concerts still have a lot of punch.
A hefty Cello Concerto from Dvořák, with soloist Alisa Weilerstein was an impressive start. All the folksy, good hearted nature of the Czech composer’s homeland is here. Written both in the US (where he taught) and his home, the piece is a three-quarter hour delight. Retrospective in nature, the home sickness also messed into his past love affair with his wife’s sister, who originally never cared for Antonín. This didn’t stop him putting her favourite song in the concerto. You’ve got to really like the cello for this to truly work, though the orchestra do bring out some ringing moments. The brass felt rather loud, perhaps due to the direct acoustics of the reliable Hoddinott. It’s always looks silly for a percussionist to wait patiently and then just play one instrument…that being the triangle for this large piece. Alisa makes the solo role putty in her hand, she brought many truths and I also was taken with her passion. She didn’t shy away from broad, proud moments and subtle, tender bars were noteworthy. Not quite my favourite cello concerto, but lovely all the same.
Blue Cathedral was our post interval opener from Jennifer Higson. Inspired by imagery of a cathedral floating in the sky, this liminal space in musical form, had lots of percussion and flamboyant instrumental moments for the orchestra. Some serene, Debussy like phases flattered the audience and some little bouts of harsh dissonance cropped up as well. I found it appealing, though felt it didn’t quite find its footing in its ten odd minutes.
A real rarity followed and a problematic one at that. The joyfully energetic American conductor Ryan Bancroft has treated us to his countries great musical offerings most notably Charles Ives, with a 150th birthday celebration this year. African American composer William Dawson saw great success with his Negro Folk Symphony in the 1930s. Though he could not bottle this popularity, he revised the work after visits to West Africa in the hope to rekindle its past success. Whilst Dvořák encouraged American composers to utilise spirituals and other music from Africa, he set the gold standard for its use. There is much flair and drama in Dawson’s symphony, the mark of slavery and faith pierce through. Its quite intense and theatrical, remarkably I was still bored by it. Even the lovely use of harp and an anvil at the conclusion didn’t win me over. Its fusion worked well enough, I just don’t think it maintained the stamina for the over thirty minutes. Whilst I have my own reservations, I cannot deny the works place in history nor it’s influence under diverse composition.
Listen to this concert on 13 June 2024 on BBC Radio 3: In Concert, then available for thirty days on BBC Sounds.
Beautiful Evil Things is performed over seventy-five minutes by Deborah Pugh on her own. She performs in a simple costume on a minimal set, mainly consisting of microphones on stands, but the lighting and sound effects backing up her performance are complex and continuous (including surtitles ). Pugh’s performance shows everything has been carefully considered – every sentence in the monologue weighed, every movement across the stage planned. All the people mentioned in the handout programme make their absence felt.
Hard work is also one thing you think of, watching and listening. You can’t help but wonder how taxing Pugh’s delivery must be on her voice. Her seventy-five minutes are a tour de force. I wasn’t worried she would be unable to sustain her energy level, but I did think she might have vocal problems if she ever had to perform six days running.
This led me on to consider how her material, drawn mainly from The Iliad, might have been delivered originally. The epic must have been declaimed and sung over an extended period because it is so long. Could a single poet have managed it?
– Which might seem a sideways consideration in a review but Beautiful Evil Things is intended to make audiences think. It reworks a small selection of stories from The Iliad to tell them from a female perspective. The narrator – Pugh’s main character – is the severed head of Medusa, the gorgon who would turn you to stone if you looked into her eyes. Medusa was there throughout the Trojan war, her head strapped to the shield of Athene. She comments on what took place, like a BBC front line reporter.
Pugh also incarnates a slew of other female characters including Athene, Hecuba, Cassandra, Penthesilea (the Amazon queen) and Clytemnestra. She does cameos of Achilles and Perseus and mimics the voices of Zeus, Poseidon and Apollo. She narrates, declaims, explains, wisecracks, mimes, gesticulates, poses, glares, smiles, laughs and cries. She takes her audience on a roller coaster ride and if she makes any slips or takes any wrong turnings, they are not noticeable. Like Medusa she becomes mesmerising. Her body is so essential I was not surprised to find out both she and her two co-artistic directors are graduates of Jacques Lecoq’s École Internationale.
Although Homer provided Western civilisation with one of its cornerstone narratives, we are not obliged to use the mythic material in the way he chose to do. Pugh and Ad Infinitum are free to present the interconnected stories as they want, although they run the risk of being overshadowed. Homer organised his material with a clear artistic purpose. He wanted to illustrate the beautiful tragedy of the warrior hero and the end of the era he personified. Hence, The Iliad is a macho story par excellence. Women are not irrelevant – the Trojan war is fought over a woman – but it was left to Racine, well over two thousand years later – to show them as tragic figures in their own right.
Ad Infinitum want their audience to think and cross reference like this. I wondered how interesting Beautiful Evil Things might be for those who had never read any Greek myths, for whom the background of the capricious gods and the wide range of historic characters had no resonance.
This is one problem the piece encounters. A second one is connected to it. To ensure that no-one is left wondering who a character might be, Pugh is obliged to step out of character to explain. This slows the imaginative momentum of the piece down, especially as the explanations have to be accompanied by modernistic reductio ad absurdums – ‘Life of Brian’ style.
And Pugh’s Medusa with snakes instead of hair, is scary but only in the way a pantomime villain is. So when Cassandra becomes increasingly important in the narrative, I was unsure if she was meant to be a pathetic, a bit funny in the head – or someone whose communication barrier anyone and everyone can identify with. The show’s purpose might have been better served if either Cassandra or Clytemnestra had been the focus – if the company had adopted Racine’s approach.
The overall impact, the success of the piece, is determined by the use of the varied material. Watching it being demonstrated and thinking about what it all means becomes a bit demanding. After an hour and a quarter, I felt I had been harangued, startled, prodded and amused but I didn’t feel entirely comfortable. Perhaps this was because there were no relaxed moments, no variation in the tempo. Pugh is fast and furious throughout her monologue and the semi happy ending simply finishes everything off. It’s not a very satisfying conclusion.
There could have been some softening, some stillness. Another dimension would have provided the show with more contrast and impact. This variation could have been provided by music and/or singing, i.e. in the way the original epic was delivered. More poetry, for want of a better word, and less rhetoric might have alleviated the strain of paying so much attention throughout.
Pugh does deserve the five-star accolades that she has been receiving for the effort she puts in, and the company also deserves congratulations for so carefully assembling a thought-provoking piece of theatre. I’d just prefer to see a play entirely of their own devising, with performances that didn’t require any running commentary for the audience’s benefit; a performance where an audience could be more confident of what their response to the work should be.
Theatr Clwyd also deserves recognition for programming Beautiful Evil Things. It was something different and well worth experiencing. Despite it being a cold windy Friday March night in North Wales, a good-sized audience was present on the night, filling over three quarters of the house. I’m sure they, like me, would be glad to see more work by Ad Infinitum in the future.
I was keen to attend a recital with Canadian legends Gerald Finley and Angela Hewitt for an excitable programme. Finley sadly, could not make it due to a bereavement. So this raised a question…what would be done instead?
Hewitt was up to the task by taking on the Golderg Variations as a very palatable alternate concert. Prior to playing, she spoke of the promise of doing something another time with Finley. We were amazed as we were informed she has been playing the Goldberg for 50 years, come 2025. She remains the gold standard of the piece, no doubt there are a select other few living, who could earn this title today.
Some might be deterred by and hour and half of piano, yet with Hewitt its remains a privilege and a pleasure. She brings so much to Variations, the opening Aria remains one of the finest things written in the keyboard repertoire (this was originally a harpsichord vehicle). It’s the personal touches throughout the epic journey that thrive. This is my second time seeing her do this, last time I recall she brought on stage a sparkly crutch. I can’t get enough really.
The travels are broad and Bach show’s us his genius with clever transposition of the Aria, new colours, mood, visions and energies burst out. Timeless music this has always been…further study into Bach and his creations can only broaden his intrigue and admiration. Hewitt brings her own inflections and posturings, moments of stillness are latter met with flare and style. In one instance, there appeared an almost emotional breakdown, though we wouldn’t blame her. The music has a complexity that still beguiles today. The faster movements are filled with plodding panache, the slower parts have a sincere retrospection.
After the panorama of depth, we return finally to the Aria once more. This has always been one of the most rewarding moments in the keyboard world. Those who may tire throughout, should find solace here. Hewitt knows the worth of this moment and we savour it at the conclusion. This remained a heart felt silence which felt forever in the space.
I do hope to see her play in her special anniversary next year. It would be an honour.
The Welsh National Opera delivers an excellent production of Il Trittico by Giacomo Puccini, where singers, chorus, and orchestra perform beautifully with skill and pathos. This is no small feat for a sophisticated and yet underrated work, consisting of three one-act pieces of starkly different registers. One only hopes that management will rethink the misguided cuts to the wonderful chorus and orchestra.
The night begins with Il Tabarro (the cloak), dark and intense, is perhaps the most refined musically of the three pieces. It tells the story of Giorgetta (Alexia Voulgaridou), dissatisfied with her life with Michele (Roland Wood) travelling from place to place on a barge. She falls for kindred spirit Luigi (Leonardo Caimi). Michele realises Luigi is Giorgetta’s lover, kills him, and forces her to look at her dead lover.
Roland Wood as Michele in Il Tabarro (photo credit Craig Fuller )
Contrary to Toscanini’s dismissal of the opera as grand guignol, Il Tabarro never indulges in sensationalism. Puccini’s mature music combines passion and restraint. Voulgaridou, Wood, and Caimi all deliver the haunting drama with great emotional depth.
A splendid Alexia Voulgaridou gives voice to the pain of Suor Angelica, the second piece. The story of a woman forced to become a nun after giving birth to a child. Her Princess aunt visits to tell her that her son is dead. Angelica kills herself in the hope of being reunited with him, then she despairs as she realises that her suicide condemns her to hell. In in her final moments of anguish, she experiences hallucinatory or mystical transcendence, and embraces her child.
The subdue and soft music lets the tension between Angelica’s suffering and her hope unfold. Voulgaridou delivers Angelica’s irrational demise or transfiguration with striking pathos, doing justice to a much misunderstood Suor Angelica.
Alexia Voulgaridou as Suor Angelica in Suor Angelica (photo credit Craig Fuller)
The night ends with the unadulterated fun of Gianni Schicchi, where a family is left penniless as the patriarch dies and leaves his fortune to a monastery. They engage the wits of peasant Gianni Schicchi (Roland Wood), who pretends to be the deceased and dictates a new will to the notary. As he does so, he makes sure the largest part of the family fortune goes to him.
Haegee Lee as Lauretta and Roland Wood as Gianni in Gianni Schicchi (Photo Credit Craig Fuller)
Roland Wood performs with humour and sagacity, Haegee Lee, as Lauretta, sings Mio Babbino Caro beautifully. The three pieces have an excellent cast all around, including Tichina Vaughn (The Princess in Suor Angelica and Zita in Gianni Schicchi), Wojtek Gierlach (Il Talpa in Il Tabarro and Simone in Gianni Schicchi), and Oleksiv Palchykov (Young lover in Il Tabarro and Rinuccio in Gianni Schicchi), who entertain and enchant the audience.
In the expert hands of Carlo Rizzi, the WNO orchestra brings together the three pieces giving them a sense of continuity. They excel at balancing the restrained with the emotional thus delivering the intensity of Puccini’s music and drama. As Puccini would have wanted.
Starting with a bold statement – as any critic, I try not to go into a show with any bias or preemption. I firstly did not intend to go, for sadly, Dominic West. I’ve seen him in many things and never been the biggest of fans. But after seeing him and Callum Scott Howells speak about it on the TV, I decided to go. Boy, am I glad I did.
A View From The Bridge is a classic play by Arthur Miller. Known primarily for his work being based in America and its history, this play focuses on the flux of immigration to New York and the relationships built between new generation New Yorkers and their families back in their mother lands. West plays the main protagonist; the pillar of the family, all encompassing and ever loving to his orphaned niece from his wife’s side. When his wife’s stranger cousins come over to earn money, after starving and struggling in Italy, relationships become tense and feelings and thoughts arise from under the surface.
There is first to say that all the acting and general performances were perfection. Not a line was tripped over, not a pause where it was not meant to be; even slight slips like a flying piece of apple when cutting one to share is handled by the performers with grace and a natural nature. Their interactions feel real and wholesome, so when events begin to deteriorate, there are audible gasps and fear and sadness of the breakdown of these relationships. The shocking moments are really shocking and this is all made effective by the sense that we are breaking into the forth wall.
West is sublime. Yes, all the accents are a little hammed up and feel stereotypical of the New York Italian community during this era (1920-40’s) but when you get used to it, words are articulated with precision and West’s change from doting and loving uncle to something more jealous and sinister is a gradual change that is impeccably done. When Scott Howells joins, he is much more Italian and it, again, is a little dramatic but it works. When moments are serious, it feels real and feels serious and he commands the stage as much as West; which works brilliantly when they begin their intense dislike of one another.
Supporting cast and ensemble slot into their positions just as well and each command the stage in their own way at some point. The women, mainly Kate Fleetwood and Nia Towle, who, during this era are likely meant to be seen and not heard, are actually fiercely independent, which makes the break down and eventual end all the more heartbreaking. They both present completely different characters and sides of womanhood and in their own right take up space and perform with every inch of their souls.
There is something to say about some ensemble however; there are very small moments when a crowd is gathered and all of about 5 minutes at a time. It maybe happens twice, and while the ensemble do their jobs brilliantly, it did feel slightly unnecessary and as if they were not being used to their potential. If the play had just been the main characters, this would have worked just as well. Similarly, it was wonderful to see an un-microphoned performance; going back to the tradition of using skill and enunciation to perform. So when there is a brief interjection of sound to suggest someone calling outside the house, it’s a little strange and somewhat unnecessary, seeing as they had already been calling off stage successfully before this.
Over all, despite my reluctance, A View From The Bridge was utterly fantastic. Equally lovable and heartbreaking, Miller’s well known play is brought to life in what feels like a new and fresh way; natural and intense enough to feel as if we are intruding into real life.
In this square bit of carpet, a duo bring a story of abuse, mental health and difficult relationships.
Faye’s home was broken into; she had come home drunk and therefore, the timings and activities are a blur. She’s not sure what has happened… but she is sure. She hasn’t slept and then, by rekindling her relationship with her brother, she enlists his help to “cure” her. But what develops are home truths, forgotten abuse and no cure in sight.
This harrowing and intense story is mostly based on the verbal interaction between Faye and her brother Naoise. They are rekindling their relationship after a year of no contact after the home invasion. Soon, truths come out on both sides and the change of blame and shocking events switches between the two. It is more than easy for us to side with Faye as a female suffering with trauma, but the story often takes a turn, putting her in the position of the abuser. It is shocking to say the least but important in highlighting the lack of gender in trauma and abuse.
The elevation of the story, interspersed with “flashbacks” that have been heightened by music and dance, add a theatrical element and to some degree is rather comical. But as it repeats, as the story descends into chaos and fear, these become more intense. McCurry’s (Faye) descent into madness, while trying to be rational is a triumph and ultimately shocking. The reaction by her brother and his physical show of fear shows that this isn’t normal and we soon jump to his side, full of fear and worry.
The energy between them is palpable and some when the most shocking moments happen, a pin could drop with the shock and quietness we experience. The changing between theatricality and almost naturalism is seamless and ensuring the important story is told and experienced in a mind blowing way.
Lie Low is a fantastic piece of theatre. It highlights important stories and the impact of trauma, but also of gender-less abuse. Theatrically it is brilliant and does well to change the platform between reality and the imagined.
The Perfect Show is co-produced by Improbable and ZooCo, showcasing that there are no limitations to what you can achieve. ZooCo are pioneers of exceptional accessible theatre, working with d/Deaf and disabled artists as leaders on every project as well as striving to make work that is accessible as possible to disabled audiences.
ZooCo has roots in the company being joint 2022 winners of The Oxford Samuel Beckett Theatre Trust Award, which supports the development of emerging theatre-makers engaged in bold, challenging and innovative performance.
Perfect show for Rachel presents chilled & relaxed performances with ounces of creative, immersive expression that uses audience participation to capture what Rachel requested! All performances are infused with creativity from singing, live music playing, improvisation and spontaneity based off Rachel’s choices & adaptability.
The essence of the show features both live captioning and integrated accessibility for d/Deaf and Hard of Hearing audiences. Due to the improvised nature of some parts of the show, some scenes were unapologetically funny and personal in connection to the buzzers Rachel chose from to aid her choices and decision making.
It’s exciting to see how the Barbican will continue their involvement with this unique production. And how the development of how the Perfect Rachel’s show evolves to reflect Rachel’s ever-evolving artistic incentives as she takes charge of crafting her story and showcasing her creativity as you step into Rachel’s world as she creates her perfect show.
The production runs from Fri 24 May—Sun 9 Jun 2024, more information here
Cardiff is seeing many fine eateries and places to be seen over the past few years. What recently caught my eye was the Coppa Club in their first flutter into Wales. It was all very exciting, a part of the timeless David Morgan building would be brought back to life.
I know the space well, my brother worked at the Moss Bros which was the past proprietor. Arriving to the club you could detect the faint whiff of new furnishings and new renovation smell (this was their tenth day of trading), though I’m sure that will go with time. I had little time to take in the space downstairs, which appears to just be for drinks and nibbles, the soft, autumnal colour scheme and cosy seats looked promising.
It’s wonderful to see the old glass dome upstairs still be in the space, this is where the Gatsby like bar now resides. I was served a delectably smooth espresso martini, I rarely fall into vodka though I’m thrilled I did here. A perfect way to be welcomed in, I cant recall which vodka was offered though I did clock Grey Goose and amongst others. A grip with the bar is that the mountains like stools are extremely heavy and only swivel a certain amount if degrees. The layout of the bar is a clever use below the dome, though the golden, mushroom lamps block a large amount of space in the bar’s surface. I should also point out this is not a club per se, no membership required.
A highly amusing moment came when a customer asked me where the toilets were, I had chosen to dress up this night. A barman passed remark how smart I had come, which as always nice. I do remain a bit disheartened when people don’t dress up at a restaurant. The music was a little to dance heavy for dinner, though volume levels were graceful. Sat in the corner with a view of The Hayes, a slight sight of scaffolding couldn’t be helped as it was next door. Quite simply lit, the dining area we frequented felt right in mood, the seats comfy and the table standard for two. The folded paper art work had me intrigued, stylish if uninspired, the patterned prints were fairly more alluring.
The squid to start was a fine thing. Cooked well, tender and with a fitting sauce, the food was off to a great start. As my main, this might be the best steak I’ve ever had. Dry aged for 30 days, I couldn’t believe my luck. Cooked to perfection as medium rare, some fries were crunchy and a side salad was heavy on dressing, though a fine garnish. The Béarnaise sauce is not quite my flavour, but that’s on me. I should have done a classic peppercorn sauce. I’ll regret that thoroughly. My plus one had the yellow fin tuna, trying some it was pink on the middle as it should be, tender and juicy, some potatoes and olives added depth to the plate.
All desserts were veggie, but no chance for a vegan this time from what I could see. I was recommended the sticky toffee pudding, which I wouldn’t usually pick. It was the honeycomb crumbs which finished this pudding, the rest was finely balanced. Wine choices of red and rosé added colour to the meat and fish choices, I was thrilled to have a cappuccino with skimmed milk, something which not every place has.
The staff need a massive shoutout, as some of the friendliest and alert I’ve encountered in the dining world. Some personal stories thanks to my plus one opening up, lead to insights and advice. We even got some holidays tips and recommendations. We were looked after so much and the staff are really selling the place. It’s one of their strongest assets.
One question remained after I had left: where exactly was the kitchen in the club? I saw neither chefs nor kitchen setting. There was little chance of it being upstairs and I recall the ground not as not being huge either. Having said this, this was a wonderful night, filled with joy and generosity. The Coppa Club is becoming one of the places to go in Cardiff. We are going back for a birthday soon, I’d imagine.
The Coppa Club, The Cardiff Townhouse, is now open for reservations and drop ins.
To see a world class performer at the height of his game is a wonderful thing to behold.
To see Usain Bolt at London 2012, or Freddie Mercury at Live Aid are two moments such as this.
The third is Michael Sheen as Aneurin Bevan in Nye the National Theatre/Wales Millennium Centre co-production currently playing at Wales Millennium Centre in Cardiff.
He delivers a masterful performance as Nye Bevan, the architect of the NHS. His portrayal captures Bevan’s passionate commitment to social justice, his fiery oratory skills, and the personal sacrifices he made for his vision. Sheen’s nuanced acting brings depth to Bevan’s character, portraying him not just as a historical figure but as a man driven by a profound sense of duty and compassion. This role showcases Sheen’s ability to inhabit complex characters and make them resonate powerfully with contemporary audiences.
The ensemble and staging are breath-taking as is the storytelling and how it’s portrayed. Granted at the start, a little confusing, but the beat of the narrative is soon at a pace where the viewer is able to tell different times. The staging and direction effectively evoke the era, immersing the audience in the political and social challenges of the time.
It will take you on an emotional rollercoaster and you’ll see historic references which in turn are as truthful today as they were then – maybe more so now with so much heart behind the story.
Overall, “Nye” is an inspiring and poignant celebration of a pivotal figure in British (and Welsh) history.
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
(4 / 5)
(3 / 5)
(5 / 5)
