In Ravel’s 150th birthday years lies the opportunity to hear much more of his music. Those bored of Bolero and are driven mad by Mother Goose, may find solace in concerts like this. Seong-Jin Cho was the winner of the First Prize ten years ago at the Chopin International Competition. He has truly made a name for himself as was proven by this busy concert at the Barbican.
To have done in one night the entirely of Ravel’s lifetime of piano work is no mean feat. The first set showcased early work including the delightful Jeux d’eau and the instantly recognisable Pavane pour une infante défunte. The rest here prove less interesting, you fell he finest quite master things until he goes on in his career. Seong-Jin is stimulating to watch play, performing entirely from memory. The talent of this pianist should never be doubted. His furious attacks and fluid patters are the utmost poetry. I think I could hear him breathing and panting at times.
What really sold his was the second set of Miroirs and Gaspard de la nuit. Ravel is alive her with total impressionism, expressive and bold playing for Seong-Jin who makes worms meat of the score. Great to hear Ravel in more experimental modes, as some moments would evoke Messiaen perhaps even Ligeti latter music. Birds and boats are the imagery, seascapes and night time musings. Gaspard de la nuit is also a treat for its impassioned state, its touching sweetness too.
The last set looked the longest and felt like it. Valse nobles et sentimentales was the bulk, impressive for its major pallet of dance and conventions. Further preludes are slight and passable. Le tombeau de Couperin, which he later orchestrated is another joy, evocative and some of his most essentially happy music, even out of the WW1 context. Through it all it was Seong-Jin’s determination and utmost respect for the material that rang through. His talents are plentiful, his endurance a standout.
Gary Owen, known for his phenomenal play, Iphigenia in Splott, returns to Lyric Hammersmith with his adaptation of Henrik Ibsen’s, Ghosts. Featuring welsh actor Callum Scott Howells who has graced our TV screens in It’s a Sin and the stage with Cabaret and supported by a host of other famous faces, this classic tale is brought into the modern world.
Ghosts tells the story of the class system, long-term abuse and the intertwining relationships between. When Helena wants to use the money from her abusive late husband to create a children’s hospital, it begins to unravel as the truth comes out about him. She is catapulted backwards to her memories of trauma and, with her son Oz home, soon the unspoken secrets are revealed, creating problems that cannot be solved.
The entire performance takes place in one room – it looks like a plush building, with a glass window, that only ever looks out at the clouds and mist. The walls are plastered in the back view of a man’s head – a man we never meet. There’s a sense of someone always present, and when we hear the tales of abuse by her late husband, there’s this sense of him always watching. The cloud-covered building is hidden away from normality of the village, and this is only ever broached by the outsiders who are invited in. There’s a reference to class not only in this but outwardly acknowledged, and the concept of privileged in abuse underpins a lot of the story.
What is interesting is that the story delves into the juxtaposition of being a victim and this experience of turning them into an abuser. Helena (played by Victoria Smurfit, seen recently in the acclaimed Rivals) uses her position to push down the trauma, but as it unravels and her along with it, she uses her taught behaviour to impact others, using her privilege to forward abuse. It’s a really interesting take on domestic abuse and creates a feeling of unease, when, a not entirely likeable character creates an atmosphere where you feel sympathy, but breaks and returns to the unlikable person.
Scott Howells plays a lovable fool, brought up rich and sent away, he is a budding actor and holds the majority of the comical lines. He’s awkward but also bubble wrapped and this comes across in his interactions with others. His relationship with Reggie (played by Patricia Allison) becomes the one relationship that he isn’t pretentious in and the child-like innocence between them is natural and fun. It lulls us only into what comes next and they both create that easy environment, so when the mic-drop moments of the play happen, it makes you audibly gasp and feel very uncomfortable – exactly the purpose.
The only parts that felt a little out of place were some of theatrical approaches – for a large part, the play has a naturalistic feel – the performers conduct their interactions, there are monologues, and there is nothing wrong with this. On its own, the shocking moments would be as shocking. But later, there’s a change to choral/foreboding church music; some electronical music that crescendos; freeze frames and silhouetting, which are all fine as theatrical choices, but adds very little to the production. If this was throughout in little pockets, it may have added more to the performance. It unfortunately felt a little shoe-horned it and without purpose.
Overall, Ghosts is an enjoyable production. Full of twists and turns and shocking moments, it also has moments of comedy and lovable characters, doing well to create a comfortable space to plunge the theatrical blows.
‘Little Women’ is loved across the world in its various iterations; from its original publication in 1868, it has been widely adored, with critical and commercial success. Based loosely on author Louisa May Alcott’s own life, we follow the lives of four sisters; young women forging their path from childhood to adulthood. Loud and rambunctious Jo, ladylike Meg, quiet yet ‘good’ Beth and the youngest, Amy, used to getting her own way. The play begins just after their Pa has left to serve as a Chaplain for the Union in the American Civil War, and each girl is dealing with it in her own unique way.
This version has been adapted by Anne-Marie Casey, screenwriter initially who has now turned her attention to stage adaptations, having also adapted Wuthering Heights for stage in 2014. I loved the pace and the humour of this script; it loses none of the original whilst breathing life into the plot and giving these characters a chance to come alive on stage. It is genuinely witty and funny and full of heart, a fact we can, obviously, primarily credit to the original novel, but also shines here on stage which is a credit to Casey. The piece has direction and movement direction from Loveday Ingram and Mike Ashcroft respectively, and I loved the innovative use of the space. The set changes very slightly throughout, but with the direction we always feel like we are in a new space, whether that’s skating across an ice-covered pond, dancing on a balcony at a ball or stealing that first kiss in the snow.
Lighting and design, by Ruari Murchison and Mike Robertson, complements the actors well. I loved the world of ‘Little Women.’ The set is a living room amongst the trees, so to speak, but we are never in any doubt as to where we are. The trees and stool double as the window that Laurie is constantly clambering through, the flats at the back of the stage mean we can see each girl in tableau as time passes and they go from girl to woman. Sometimes simplicity is best, and I loved the idea of nature permeating the house in which the girls lived. Jo’s writing desk being ever present is also a nice touch as if, it’s the desk itself, that is charting the lives of these women. Lighting is also simple but effective; especially stark during Amy’s fall through the ice. I loved the addition of contemporary hymns and Christmas songs to add colour to the piece and to the lives of Marmee and her girls. Matthew Bugg, Composer and Sound Designer, adds his own touch to the piece; the arrangements are beautiful and sang so well by the ensemble.
This is a very well-cast company. Led by Grace Molony as Jo, who perfectly balances Jo’s tomboyish tendencies with her uncompromising love for her family, her passion for life, writing and independence, and her softer, more loving side towards the end of the show. She is excellent, a perfect Jo and she achieves plenty of laughter in our matinee audience. Jade Kennedy as Meg is wonderful; the will she, won’t she romance she shares with Jack Ashton as John Brooke is very endearing. There is, again, a lovely balance of humour but also the more serious, mothering side of Meg. They are joined by Catherine Chalk as Beth; her nervous energy around strangers is truly palpable throughout act one, and her tragic ending is expertly handled by Chalk. The final ‘little woman’ is indeed the littlest; Imogen Elliot as Amy brings a childlike innocence and petulance in act one, which blossoms very effectively into a society woman in act two.
They are accompanied by Belinda Lang who is excellent as Aunt March. Her accent is perfect, and her deadpan lines are delivered with expertise. She is delightfully blunt and rude, a fantastic addition to the cast. Ellie Pawsey understudied as Marmee in this performance and her motherly light really shone in the role. Her strength in holding together her family was really evident yet she was able to balance this with the emotion of hearing about her injured husband and the pain of losing a daughter. Outnumbered, but no less talented are the men of the piece. Cillian Lenaghan as Laurie bounds across the stage, the perfect opposite to Meg, seemingly more grown up and mature than them all in act one and then discovering his petulance in act two. Cillian counterbalances Monoly’s Jo with ease and they have a lovely chemistry. Finally, Jack Ashton who spends act one as Meg’s love interest, John Brooke and act two as Jo’s love interest, Frederick Bhaer. Ashton delivers these two distinct characters with ease. It is easy to put aside our dramatic disbelief and invest in him as both characters. I really enjoyed his Frederick especially, with a great accent and a softness and hesitation to his admission of feelings for Jo. This is a faithful adaptation, which keeps close to the original but also has its own voice and identity. Its true success is in its accessibility; I have never read the book (but will do so now!) and was sat alongside two sisters who have seen every iteration on film and were read the novel every night by their mother as children. I love how we came in with very different expectations and knowledges of the story but all left having absolutely loved this version. The show is lovely; touching, poignant at times, full of heart and humour; perfectly chronicling the lives of these little girls into ‘Little Women
In the perfect setting for Messiaen, St George’s in Southwark proved a stunning evening for Britten Sinfonia. With no strings in sight, this wind ensemble would also feature brass and the famous percussion too.
Stravinsky’s Symphonies of Wind Instruments is often paired with Messiaen Et Exspecto. These delightful few minutes features shrill, bouncy moods followed by more sensual bars. The deep acoustic of the cathedral may not have faired well for this opener. The Choir of Merton College, Oxford followed in brief motets by Poulenc and Duruflé. These were the real deal, powerful stuff from these young singers. Poulenc’s Tristis est anima mea might have been the strongest, though all were truest declarations of faith.
Stravinsky’s Mass may prove why he didnt write much choral writing. Moments had promise and an experimental edge, yet it doesn’t quite take off. Passages of Orthodox singing and strange murmurings were note worthy, the wind players getting the expectedly angular writing. Benjamin Nicholas shared the baton with Nicholas Daniel both driven with the fire of this music. Daniel, best know as an oboist have a lush solo for Messiaen’s Vocalise-étude. This is lovely in its mawkishness, brief moments of flower scents and an unbroken style that could on be Messiaen. The Choir return only now at the entrance to the cathedral with the continuing French composer’s O Sacrum Convivium. The music levitates in real time, its just so warm these singers sung it flawlessly in their last feature of the night.
In Et Exspecto Resurrectionem Mortuorum, Messiaen conjured a terrifying memorial to the dead of both World Wars. A stunning array of tubular bells, tam-tams, cowbells all feature heavily and shine. The loudness is considerable, though I think the larger tam-tams could have had the crescendos a little more stretched out. Even in Messiaen’s whole canon there is nothing this earthy or alarming. The silences between each movement are baked into the score, another powerful feat. The finale sees temple gongs played ad nauseam, as all players blast and scream through the horror. It’s quite an unforgettable feat.
Nicholas Daniel, who is now leaving the Britten Sinfonia. We will dearly miss him.
Samuel Beckett might just be my favourite playwright. Why? It’s his abstractions, the eerie usage of prose for a higher truth. His plays in French and German then translated into English, capturing profound depths that wouldn’t be seen if it was just in English first.
First seen in 1958 with actor Patrick Magee, Krapp’s Last Tape have seen much success and is often regarded as one of Beckett’s finer works. This isn’t my personal favourite, though thanks to a tight production it holds up as enlightening. The play is even going with Gary Oldman in York , so there are plenty of chances to see this odd tale.
Per annum, Krapp on his birthday records another tape. A post-mortem of the year he’s had. He listens to recordings from decades past and loses himself in then, only to dismiss them as ancient histories. Aged 69, he leaves his last tape, after eating a few bananas, popping out to the kitchen in a hurried scuttle to what sounds like the pouring of wine (quite possibly urination) a few times and constantly critiques the man he was, against the man he is now.
Stephen Rea is a true Beckett actor. He had the foresight to pre-recorded the relevant material a decade ago, just in case he ever did play Krapp. Luck would be on his side thanks to laser focused director Vicky Featherstone. Set designer Jamie Vartan has the most simplistic plan, yet all you really need is a sliding door, chair, table with extended draw and that’s your lot. Katie Davenport got the tattyness of old age and white boots that might just not match the outfit. Lighting by Paul Keogan is scary and alluring in all ways. Kevin Gleeson’s, sound design keeps the suggestion of a drone in utter pianissimo throughout, near Lynchian. Stephen Wright as audio director assisted Rea with the old recordings and did a valiant job. You can tell Rea is younger, though not by a huge amount. Imagine the 30 years old tapes…
There is much to unpack about archivism, longing, resentment, ageing, loneliness, sex and lust in this mere 55 minutes. Other artists have taken the tapes ideas and ran with it, musicians especially with opera and looping material are really nice ideas. It has made me wonder about how do we preserve items in needs of tender love and care, with the passage of time decaying most materials. Through it all…was this the purpose of recording something?
‘Dear Evan Hansen’ is a musical about a high school senior who suffers from social anxiety, who fabricates a friendship with outcast, Connor Murphy, to achieve connection and popularity, after Connor commits suicide. Evan’s lie ends up out of control and leads to severe consequences; Evan becoming a symbol of Connor’s legacy, causing a chain reaction on his own life.
The set pretty much stays the same, yet creates life throughout the story like moving doors, on and off bedrooms and optical trees. Simple but effective!
Last, but definitely not least, the cast! Here are my favourites… Tom Dickerson as Jared Kleinman, gave us the right amount of comedy to mix in with the show and gave us all a laugh. Killian Thomas Lefevre was fantastic as Connor Murphy. Even though Connor didn’t have much stage time, Killian honestly did not let that stop him, with lots of aggression but some softness. He showed us that Connor Murphy was sarcastic and rude but yet soft towards Evan on his last day. I must say Evan Hansen himself, played by Ryan Kopel, was absolutely brilliant. He showed everything Evan needed to be, anxious to tender and even showing the side of him that has outbursts.
Overall the show was honestly one of the best I’ve seen, it had everything it needed and it was everything it needed it to be, so stop ‘tapping on the glass’ and get yourself tickets for ‘Dear Evan Hansen.’
‘Today is going to be a good day’ and it certainly is a good day coming out of the new tour production of Dear Evan Hansen at the Wales Millennium Centre. The new production has a lot to live up to; a decade of productions since its first performance in July 2015. There has certainly been a huge number of changes for the world since the debut of the show too, with a pandemic lockdown, international conflicts which are still yet to be resolved and political and financial instability. Certainly, with all this ongoing, the themes tackled in the musical are more important than ever; the NHS regularly reports an increase in mental health issues with young people and in fact, the suicide rate in 2023 was the highest it’s been since 1999.
Having said all that, you may be inclined to think that the show is a fairly depressing affair, and it definitely has its moments of being on an emotional rollercoaster; I found myself in floods of tears at several points! However, the main mantra of the show signs through in its stunning score penned by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul (their impressive back catalogue includes work on La Land and The Greatest Showman), with stunning lines such as ‘you are not alone,’ ‘let the sun come streaming in’ and of course, the iconic, ‘you will be found.’ Based on a true story that occurred during Benj Pasek’s school years, I particularly love the fact that the characters, although likeable, are morally grey. They are so real and human that they bound from the stage and force us to look at our own decisions and life choices. It also truly emphasises that theme of ‘connection’ and that we all touch one another’s lives, sometimes without even intending to.
Therefore, this production has a lot to live up to! And it does so, with absolute ease, stamping its own new identity on the legacy of the musical. Starting with set, video design and lighting, (Morgan Large on set, costume and video, Ravi Deepres also on video and Matt Daw on lighting), I must say, that this production absolutely sets the bar and then smashes it. The way that this design all comes together and seamlessly integrates with performers on stage in a truly breathtaking way. There were several moments where I found myself with my mouth literally hanging open; from the moving ‘windows’ that have Evan literally waving through them, the ‘sun’ filling the whole stage as Evan sings ‘I climb ‘til the entire sun shines on my face,’ and the stunning montage of online footage as we hear ‘You Will Be Found,’ these moments are visually stunning and will stay in my mind for a long time. Huge congratulations to the team, they have created a truly stunning visual production with a very minimalist stage which enhances the performers rather than detract from them.
The small, but mighty, cast and ensemble of 14 certainly deserves the highest of praise. The ensemble creates beautiful tableaus and choreography (a credit to Choreographer, Carrie-Anne Ingrouille) and the chorus singing is stunning. The whole cast is wonderful, but I must make special mention to a few of them. Alice Fearn is a seasoned performer and having seen her portray Beverley Bass in Come from Away, I knew she’d be incredible as Evan’s mother, Heidi. She does not disappoint; ‘Good for You’ is gritty, angry and powerful and she flips it completely with a poignant, heart-breaking performance of ‘So Big/So Small.’ The true show stealer though is Ryan Kopel playing the titular Evan. I do not exaggerate when I say that his portrayal of Evan is phenomenal. His voice soars over the score with truly stunning emotional and lightness of touch in places and a powerhouse, emotional belt when required. His acting is a masterclass; he is instantly endearing and highly likeable immediately and he had me in tears from the beginning; from ‘Waving Through a Window’ to the showstopper of ‘Words Fail,’ where you truly could have heard a pin drop in the Wales Millennium Centre. They are joined by Lauren Conray as Zoe Murphy, Helen Anker as Cynthia Murphy and Richard Hurst as Larry Murphy, who exceptionally show the grief, or not, of the Murphy family; Killian Thomas Lefevre as Connor, who had me in absolute stitches in ‘Sincerely, Me’ and Tom Dickerson as Jared Kleinman and Vivian Panka as Alana Beck who bring brilliant vocals and fantastic humour to their roles.
The day you watch the newest production of DearEvan Hansen is going to be a good day and here’s why…it breathes fresh life into an already beautiful show, elevates the score, brings moments of stillness and poignancy to the libretto and shows touring productions what can be achieved with simple yet impressive set, video and lighting design. It’s an important show for everyone to see; yes, the themes are hard hitting and you will find yourself emotionally drained by the end, but you’ll also find yourself uplifted, reaffirmed and knowing that even when things go wrong, when life seems its darkest, that we are connected, not alone and that, ‘you will be found.’
I am not done with so called minimalism in London just yet. Part of the Southbank Centre’s Multitudes Festival, In C, proved to be a thrill. Taking Terry Riley’s iconic 1960’s composition, it is here laced with dance and that from Sasha Waltz.
Just over an hour, the whole beast was touching and the definition of fluidity. Diverse dancers swell together, Waltz’s stance on the belief, profound here. The London Sinfonietta players maintained tightness the overall pace. The C note is given time to breath in these phases, never a moment of discord nor shock. The development of this note is luxurious in its discoveries. These repeating motions from the musicians are a testament to muscle memory and endurance. This powdered piece is essentially Riley’ most revered stand out and that’s not a bad thing. You can easily lose yourself within it.
Waltz’ choreography has used classical music before to acclaim. It’s very human, allow me to explain what I mean. It’s the combination of coloured vests, which gradually darken with sweat, the smiles the dancers give and the unrelenting flow that makes up, this so uniting. So many connections are made: some appear to handle heart break, others suggest the glimpses of friendship. Each dancers easily go off on their own venture, prayer signs and soft balletic postures…often returning to a semblance of gathering. An infectious conga line appeared to form in one instance catching others into its fold, only then to disassemble at just as quick. Each dancers brought clear insight and energy, the head turned a few times, adding with their little adventures into the auditorium. Quite literary dancing in the aisles.
This might just be one of the most lovely combinations of dance and music. A broad colour palette evoked Rothko and Klee, a large screen haunting the space. This is also proof how good a venue the Queen Elizabeth Hall is for dance, I’ve seen work before but this defined it. Wonderous flights seem to take over the troupe as if they might just have floated off. I was quite moved, again its just so achingly human. I might just try out some of these flurrying moves at home…
What a privilege it is to be able to see Marina Abramović’s work so often in the current day. Being brought up studying her performance art pieces, over the years, Abramović seems to be creating more and more work in London and each one new and as fascinating as the next and I feel lucky to be able to see them first hand and continue to be inspired.
As part of the Multitudes Festival, she has joined with pianist Igor Levit to combine classical music and her quintessential durational work to create a performance across 20 hours. The options to come in and out throughout these 20 hours or find yourself with a 1 hour slot in itself delivers a unique experience for each audience member and the feat of the art is, not only what Abramović is famous for, her bread and butter, but still managing to be something new and exciting.
Vexations is based on a one page score of its namesake. While simplistic on paper, the score is ordered to repeat multiple times and throughout the 20 hours, Levit does just that. But it changes; the tempo, the tone, the volume, the intention, it is somehow different every time and even in a 1 hour slot, it lulls you, surprises you, creates a dreamlike state and shocks you. You find each iteration to be new in some way and never the same as the previous. Levit first performed this over live stream during the Covid lockdown, with an aim to comment on the experience of all but especially the hardships of artists at the time. There certainly feels like a poignant commentary on this, and becomes relatable for everyone; who else remembers the days of doing the same things over and over, but those rare times of something new to break up those long years?
Front and centre, Levit is at his piano, tearing at sheets when a page is complete and throwing it in disarray on the stage, building and building over the hours. He approaches the music each time as if it is something new. By my slot, 7 hours have passed, and the endurance is clear and painful, with movement in his body, changes from sitting to standing, uncomfortable and becoming stiff, an almost madness in his eyes but also something playful alongside it. Untouched snacks are provided to satiate but he never reaches for them. He does however abruptly break, a strange moment when looking around the auditorium, while he goes to the toilet or grabs some food, that the durational audience members treat this as some kind of break, to check their phones or break themselves; almost like a unwritten interval. Watching Levit himself, while directly or through the huge mirror above, looking down like a topsy-turvy world, is intoxicating and strangely, the music at no point becomes unbearable or monotonous.
To accompany him, the black and white tiled stage is littered with well placed seating and audience members, chosen to sit and basque in the performance, eyes closed and in the moment. This is facilitated by two performers who move around with strong intent but at glacial speeds and no emotion. It is somewhat frightening but also calming at the same time. A wave of adrenaline as they come to the audience, breaking the fourth wall, will I be next? Another wave of disappointment (or maybe relief) when you’re not. But there’s also a tenderness in the blank faces and a sense of care by how they move and how they handle the audience members. It feels like a less aggressive selection process for a school sports team, or like becoming a “chosen one” from a crowd, being brought through a wall or veil we cannot see, highlighted by the preparation of shoe removal before stepping on the tiles. And watching this movement also lulls you, it is fascinating, and you can’t quite take your eyes off the performers or how the audience interact – some accept their fate, some are excited, one begins to move almost as if they have been replaced by the performer and copies her when he is released back to his seat, still in this trance-like state. One poor chap, with a wristband to show he is a durational audience member and therefore been here a while, suddenly loses all sense of his body, the performer still in a glacial but sped up way, not breaking character, rushing to him before he falls. He himself seems to have been pushed into a trance, and likely in need of water and nourishment, it is an occurrence that shows the impact it not only has on the audience but the sheer strength of the performers and Levit during these 20 hours.
And while touched upon already, there is a third performer – us. Or more specifically, those (in my opinion, lucky enough) to have been able to be there for the full day. What interesting experiences must they have had over that time, visually and also within themselves. I looked around and they themselves had become part of the performance – comfortable clothing, bobbing along to the music as if at a rock concert, cushions and blankets as if camped out to be the first in line at a festival or to get tickets, their seats marked by coffee cups or their bags on their chosen breaks. It was a social study that they were unaware they were part of and it only added to the essence of this performance.
Vexations certainly brings a new and interesting approach to the intention of the Multitudes festival. Breaking all the rules, it encompasses the whole room, physically and mentally, creating a unique experience and feeling but also an unusual and one of a kind pocket universe through song and physical art.
Kicking off the Multitudes festival, a festival that aims to celebrate the collaboration between classical music and other art forms, London Philharmonic Orchestra and circus troupe, Circa explodes in the Royal Festival Hall.
While the concept feels unsurprising and a good fit with one another, the actual viewing of such a spectacle is awe-inspiring and exciting.
Written for and with inspiration from dance, Daphnis and Chloe depicts the story of young love, with star-crossed lovers, a kidnapping by pirates and ultimate earthquake triggered by the rescue, eventually joining the lovers together again. This is followed by a secondary piece, La Valse, created in a time of war, depicting a society of chaos and on the verge of collapse.
The orchestra is on stage for the entirety of this performance. A quick intro by the head of music at Southbank Centre, we are reminded that, a tradition physical performance, such as circus or dance, would see a moment of applaud between pieces or at moments of monumental feats, but we are asked to hold our excitement to the end to also take in the orchestra and their equal part in this. In practicality, this is somewhat hard. A classical music novice, and clearly not the only one, a small break and an actual standing up of the orchestra and point to the accompanying choir prompts a response and so when the performers come back and the music drums back up, only then we know we are not finished. Not the end of the world but a strange sensation none the less. However, there is something lovely and refreshing to not hear an applaud each time the circus perform a death-defying stunt, while not silencing a strong, short inhale, and it gave a platform to take in the whole performance.
Despite this confusion, which is minimal in comparison to the event, the room is filled with the sounds of a typical orchestra. It reminded me how I wish to visit more classical music concerts, while with little knowledge of what to see exactly, as the live music aspect gives you a special tingle from the talent demonstrated and the beauty. As mentioned before, a choir accompanies, high in the seating to the right. Their gentle standing up for appropriate moments to join in with their choral harmonies brings a multitude of feelings, from excitement to sinister atmosphere, accompanying and competing in equal measures with the ever changing tone and range of the orchestra.
While we are unable to miss the orchestra, we are somewhat distracted by Circa. A small strip at the front of the stage is their platform, working linear and occasionally branching to the backing levels of the auditorium behind the orchestra. The feats are incredible, reaching heights using one another’s strength and contortion, it is visually beautiful and provoking of audible gasps. The amazement in itself coming from the small space they easily and effortlessly work in, compared to traditional circus tents or large vacant space. There’s a want, after the starting speech, to try and give attention to the orchestra and the choir, but it’s difficult to look at their “performance” when visually, the area is brimming with both them and the circus performers. However, you are trusting on your ears and the piece never misses a moment where all elements fit together seamlessly.
Daphnis and Chloe gels the different platforms of classical music and circus with ease and beautifully. Does it feel like a breakthrough in the arts? Not really, but you can’t help but love the collaboration and that it paves the way for more live music and preformative art forms to go back to traditional roots and bring them to the modern world.
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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